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erwinsvow · 26 days

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little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

#bitchy reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .

synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.

contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue

Z H O N G L I

Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.

It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.

It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.

"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."

"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.

"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.

"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."

"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.

"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"

"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"

A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."

"(Name)?" Everyone questions.

"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.

Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."

Silence.

A cup drops.

Tea spills (literally).

Then,

"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.

"Married." Zhongli confirms.

"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"

Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."

"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.

"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"

Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."

"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.

In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—

Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.

"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.

"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."

"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.

"I don't."

The group blinks.

"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.

"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.

". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.

"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"

Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."

His jaw drops. Venti laughs.

|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||

~ bonus ~

"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"

"No? What makes you think that?"

"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."

tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why

//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted

"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."

ko-fi support | character m.list

#genshin #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli fluff #zhongli fic #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

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evie-sturns · 4 months

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𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘥 - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

summary: when you and matt first started dating, you made a rule, that you two would never go to sleep mad at each other, but tonight a heated argument breaks that rule.

warnings: arguing, angst?, crying, swearing, fluff.

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me and matt don't fight often, in our 4 months of being together we've only bickered, aside from the odd big argument. we always make up by the end of the day because of our rule. never fall asleep angry with each other.

9:48pm

"matt i promise, i didn't mean to." i sigh, i'm exhausted after our arguing, which has been going on for 45 minutes.

"you didn't mean to search my phone, im sure." he scoffs, grabbing his phone and checking the time.

"i fucking didn't matt, your phone was being spammed every 2 seconds so i picked it up, then you came in, its not my fault it looked different from how it actually was."

i say, my voice raising as i go to walk away, but matt grabs my wrist, yanking me back towards him. "so all the other apps that had been opened weren't you hm?"

he says glaring down at me, matt never loosens his painful grip, i don't think he even realises he's hurting me. his rings leave red marks on my arm.

"im going to sleep matthew." i say, my voice barely audible and wobbling.

matt's grip softens, allowing me to pull away.

i run upstairs, slamming the door to the bedroom behind me as i hold back my tears.

i rarely cry, matt's only seen me cry a handful of times meaning its a shock for him each time i do.

i strip down to just a tank top and panties before crawling into bed, shutting my eyes, hoping to sleep off the built-up frustration inside me.

just as i feel myself drifting to sleep the door swings open, followed by matt's angry stomps. he rips down the covers and plops himself in, before yanking them back up.

after a few minutes i roll over, matts back is facing me. i reach out a hand to grab his, he pushes me off. "dude don't fucking touch me?" matt says, somehow moving further away from me.

that'll do it.

i climb out of bed, grabbing my pillow as i walk over to the small basket in the corner of our room, filled with blankets from our previous movie nights. i pull up a blanket into my arms as tears fill my waterline. matt flicks on the lamp which rests on our bedside table, a warm yellow light fills the room.

"what the fuck are you doing this time." matt says, squinting his eyes.

i erupt into sobs, my face scrunching as tears soak my face. through my blurred vision, i can partially see concern and worry painted across matts face. i have a pillow under my arm, a blanket in my other and im clutching matts pug stuffed animal, which we share now.

i walk out of the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind me before sprinting downstairs, i place my pillow down on the small couch, and lay down, pulling the grey blanket over me and cuddling the pug to my chest, which shortly gets damp from my tears.

11:34pm

i dont know how long ive been asleep, or even where i am, but i'm woken up from matts arms around me, holding me in a bridal position. "matt..?" i say, looking up at him through my swollen eyes.

"i know gorgeous, theres no heating down here its too cold for you sweetheart." matt says, his voice soft and quiet.

my eyebrows furrow, did we even fight? or did i dream it? i look down at my wrist, which is red from where matt grabbed me earlier,

we fought.

matt carries me upstairs, his grip on me is so gentle i cant even comprehend how I'm being held up right now.

he opens our bedroom door with his elbow, the room is pristine, cleaner than I've ever seen it. "why is it so tidy in here.." i squeeze out, my voice raspy. matt clears his throat "oh-.. uh couldn't sleep so i cleaned.."

he pulls back the covers, readjusting the pillow with one hand before laying me down. "do you want me to come in the bed with you or are you happy by yourself.." matt says, his voice timid.

"you can come in.." i say, wide awake now and fully aware of everything thats happened in the past 3 hours.

matt lies down next to me, his body tense.

"im really sorry, i feel so guilty." matt says, tilting his head to look over at me. i nod, "it was my fault too." i say, fidgeting with my nails.

"no its not, i overreacted so much i don't even know what went over me, i regret it so much." matts voice shakes.

"i feel like shit for even touching you." matt says, "and i'm sorry for waking you up but i didnt want to break our rule.."

"huh?" i say, looking over at him, our eyes making eye contact.

"no going to bed angry with eachother.." he says with a small laugh.

i roll over to face him, a wide smile spread across my face. "oh matt.." i say, climbing ontop of him and laying down, burying my face on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around, underneath him.

he hugs me back with a sigh of relief, but somethings different,

"matt! where are your rings?" i say, sitting up on his torso and grabbing his hand.

"i couldn't even look at them without feeling guilty, i know they dug into your arm.."

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i love this i was in such a writey mood

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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pacifymebby · 9 months

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I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛

( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)

AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!

Tommy

🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?

🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.

🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.

🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.

🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.

🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.

🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"

🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.

🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.

🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.

🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.

🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.

🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.

🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.

🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.

🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.

🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."

🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.

🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."

🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.

🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.

🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."

Alfie

🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.

🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.

🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."

🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.

🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.

🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.

🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.

🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...

🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.

🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.

🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.

🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.

🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.

🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."

🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.

🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.

🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.

🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."

🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.

🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.

🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."

🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.

🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.

Arthur

🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...

🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...

🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.

🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...

🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.

🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.

🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."

🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...

🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.

🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.

🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."

🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...

🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.

🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.

🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."

🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'

🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."

🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."

🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.

🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.

🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.

John

🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.

🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.

🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...

🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.

🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.

🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...

🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.

🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.

🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.

🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.

🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.

🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.

🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."

🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.

🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.

🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.

🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."

🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.

🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...

🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.

🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...

🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."

🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...

🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.

🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.

🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.

🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.

🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.

🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.

🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.

🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.

🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.

🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.

🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.

🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.

🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.

Isaiah

🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...

🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."

🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.

🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.

🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."

🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.

🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.

🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"

🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.

🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.

🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.

🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...

🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"

🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...

🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.

🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.

🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.

Michael

☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.

☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.

☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.

☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.

☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.

☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.

☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...

☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)

☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.

☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."

☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.

☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."

☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.

☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.

☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"

☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.

☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.

AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/

Taglist:

@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo

#tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #isaiah jesus x reader #alfie solomons x reader

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strawberry-daiquiris · 21 days

Note

i just need you to know that all of these ~water adventure oscar~ photos have me thirsting for a salt skin part 2. maybe he and lando decide to take to the sea ? i don’t know. i’m just spit balling. and this is ZERO pressure! i just wanted you to know im thinking of you and your boys! (plus my fave photo from the set!!)

this photo was intense immediate salt skin vibes for me! the concerned look on his face, the clutching hand on the towel, the person captivating him off camera.

i haven't done much meta around them because that fic still feels a bit sacred - i wrote it all in one sitting, more or less, and felt a bit like i'd been drowned in the ocean/dehydrated on a rock when i finally stood up off the sofa.

i've always thought that afterwards, lando would become oscar's very curious, slightly violent wag, flitting all ethereal around the paddock charming people then threatening to rip their throats out if they so much as hinted a threat at oscar. everyone would know there was something weird about him, they could just never really guess what. except for maybe zak brown lol still don't ask me what i was getting at with that weird hint of a side plot.

anyway here's a little 900 word snapshot of their morning before this picture would have been taken in the saltskin universe!

tw for them being bloodthirsty sirens and also displaying slightly coercive behaviour!!!

_________________________

“Are you going to put SPF on?”

Oscar hangs back against the bathroom door, rubbing a stubborn patch of lotion into the dry skin at the side of his nose. On the floor, Lando is rooting under the bed for something, his naked arse pointing Oscar’s direction. It still gets him, even now, how weirdly Lando moves his human body, whipping around slightly too fast, fixing Oscar with a stare that’s a little ethereal.

“I’m a merman, Oscar. I don’t need frickin’ SPF.”

”Were.” Oscar emphasises with his hands, chucking the tube onto the floor next to Lando. He flinches from it like Oscar’s thrown a grenade, or a fishing line. “You were a merman, and now you’re not, so…”

He points out the window to the baking hot sun. It’s a free weekend in Monaco, time to take the boat out into the furthest reaches of the bay so Lando can dive under the water for longer than it should be possible to hold his breath.

“SPF.”

Lando grimaces, poking at the tube with his foot, trying to roll it under the bed to its final resting place next to whatever he’d been looking for. He treats the underneath of the bed like a cave, hoarding things there. It’s fine, and Oscar doesn’t mind, until it’s something important, like his passport, or the car keys.

”Lando, don’t make me do it.”

Oscar turns back to the bathroom mirror, sighing when he realises he’s still got a glob of white on his nose. He pauses, listening for the squelch of cream on soft skin, but it doesn’t come.

”Lando,” he starts, and he hears a groan as his voice curls out of the bathroom, tantalisingly soft as it creeps away from him. Oscar has learnt how to control it, how to target the power towards a person, or an object. It’s not the only reason there’s trophies on his shelves and a different coloured team wear in his wardrobe, but it’s one of the biggest. “Put on the sunscreen.”

He hears the cap pop, the heavy weight of Lando’s footsteps as he comes closer, standing naked in the doorway squirting it on his chest. It’d be hot, if it weren’t for the scowl.

”I hate you,” Lando spits, tongue more pointed than usual, the tops of his ears going red like they want to spike, fighting the siren rage.

Maybe it’s hot because of the scowl.

Oscar only smiles, wrapping an arm around his stomach and holding him against the door frame, fingers working some of the cream into the scarred skin that used to be gills, shiny silvery purple like stretch marks. When he comes to a stop, he looks at his hand, pale against the tan of Lando’s skin. Ever since he came out of the ocean, he’s had webbing at the base of his fingers. Not enough to be noticeable unless you really look. Take it in alongside his slightly lighter eyes, and his sharper fingernails. Surface changes to the eye, but rooted far deeper than that, somewhere in Oscar’s DNA.

”No, you don’t,” Oscar whispers, and he doesn’t need to use his powers for this, needs nothing more than the press of his lips against the side of Lando’s face, where he’s finally starting to grow something that looks like facial hair. “You love me.”

Lando squirms, but Oscar has the upper hand. More strength in his thighs, more defined muscles in his chest. He’s not fighting a monster now. He is one.

”Don’t.”

Oscar smiles, twisting Lando so their faces are pressed so close he can smell the salt on Lando’s breath. Strong like he’s been swilling sea water, even after he’s brushed his teeth.

”You do, you love me,” Oscar insists, and Lando shakes his head. Oscar rests his fingers along Lando’s scars again, scraping the pointy bits of his nails along the soft, new skin until Lando shivers, whimpering, pleading. Tame. “You wished for me.”

Lando grabs Oscar’s arm, wraps his strong, long fingers around his wrist and tugs, heaving breaths like he’s just gulped down a lungful of water.

“You did,” Oscar insists, the hand Lando didn’t grab scratching deeper, until the scars start to pinken. It turns Lando on, every time, still sensitive with an erogenous zone unique only to him. “Say it.”

”I wished for you,” Lando blurts, and Oscar lets go, stepping back out of his space triumphantly. Still, Lando reaches for him, sliding his hands under Oscar’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles, pulling him close. His voice is softer, when he speaks again, more like the boy who dazzled him in the water, tempted him close to death. “You know I wished for you.”

Oscar kisses Lando’s forehead, holds him as he rests against his chest, so much skin on display, so much vulnerability. He can tell the moment it takes them both, remembering how lonely they were, how much they loathed the absence of this, even when they didn’t know what this was.

“I know,” Oscar whispers, letting his hand fall to the curve of Lando’s waist, and the small ridge where his tail used to start, the one you can feel if you know where to touch. Eczema, Oscar has taught Lando to claim, if anyone asks why his skin looks like the surface of a rock, weathered by a storm. “I know.”

They stay that way until the SPF starts to dry, tacky, on Lando’s skin and Oscar has to push him away before they’re bound by more than just the sea.

”Put some clothes on, Lando,” Oscar says, brushing past him to leave for the kitchen, pack a cool box with raw meat they don’t eat anywhere but home, the boat and any restaurant with carpaccio on the menu. “The boat’s not going to sail itself.”

#GOD I LOVE THE BLOODTHIRSTY LITTLE MONSTERS!!!!#Both changed in different ways #Weirdly nervous about this because that fic sometimes feels like it was written by someone Not Me lmao #my fic #salt skin #landoscar #strawberry.ask

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beatcroc · 4 months

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a year!!! as of today i have now been drawing these funny little pizza freaks, to the exclusion of almost everything else, for!!! an entire year!!! i wanted to do a nice group shot/lineup of everybody to compare to when i first started trying to draw them because oh boy were they bad. i never even posted most of them anywhere because they were so bad. but im posting them here, now, to see how everything's changed/evolved.

this is probably the hardest time i've ever had trying to figure out how to work with a style, but we got there eventually; i'm pretty happy with the handle i've got on everybody now...dont let ur memes be dreams. lots of unimportant journaling and idle thoughts abt it below.

older pics

the first one is the VERY first time i drew them, before i thought i was going to actually have any interest in drawing them [lmao]; it was just the one isolated image, for my friendserver, to illustrate the funney message, so there was no attempt to make it Good or actually understand anything going on w/ the designs or style.

second is the original run of practices sketches to start trying to figure them out for real; done after i started having ideas for the comics and such and realized oh god maybe i am actually gonna draw fanart for this. [again, lol, and lmao.]

third one is the first pt art thing i posted on here. there were a couple weeks of sprite studies between this one and the previous image. the one on the top right wasn't part of that post i just threw it on as space filler; i'd intended to shift to doing Sprite Redraws But Stylized to explore tings more, but that was the only one i did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

individual characters

peppino: by far the hardest dear god. bro what ARE your shapes how DOES your face work. jesus christ. everything i have trouble with this style for, peppino has it in excess. i draw in polygons! i need consistency! and that is the last thing this kind of style is concerned with. they are made of squarshy clay and i do not understand how to mold them. i was really hoping trying to learn this game's style would GIVE me that kind of flexibility for fun exaggerated facial expression but i don't think much came of it in the end 😔. anyway on the bright side all this means once i got peppino figured out a little bit everybody else clicked way easier.

fake peppino: honestly i never did anything with him on purpose except for how his eyes work + the perma-smile thing. i figured ok hes supposed to look weird and off model so whatever happens with him happens. and it did. and it kept happening. it is still, in fact, happening.

noise/ette: somehow, for every bit that peppino was the least natural thing i've ever tried, these two worked pretty much right off the bat. i still don't understand it, seeing as pretty much all the things at play for peppino are also at work for them. i think the new sketches are actually a little worse than older ones but not enough that i care.

gustavo: really funny bc i drew him on model twice and just went 'okay, cool nice, easy, um. he doesn't have any fucking legs?' fortunately he was the only one i had a strong idea for how to stylize him [square] and it worked exactly as i was hoping so wahoo.

brick: is an animal and therefore 5000x easier and more natural for me to draw/stylize than anything else in the cast. that is Just a rat bro. i can draw a rat.

gerome: i think the funniest one here. the most drastic and least necessary change imo. i was gonna have him be really small at first, like smaller than the noises, but then i just... didn't. he's just peppino-sized now. also i gave him like. actual human facial structure, which is funny bc in most cases i'd do anything to avoid, but it works well for his being A Rock to give him some angles and definition like that+ to differentiate his vibe from the rest of the cast who are all very squishy. also since he is essentially Just A Head it's good to emphasize that too ig.

john: i only drew john a couple times but he gets to be here because i like him. and because most of the stuff i applied to gerome was readily applicable to john, though i did try to keep him a little more uncanny because he is a Huge And Lanky Freak. i hate that he is barefoot btw but idk how to make his color balance look right with shoes.

pizzahead: i did not want to put him on here honestly but i Have drawn him a handful of times and more importantly i didn't know what i was gonna do with john's pose if i didn't have him there to be glared at. the only thing that's different with him is giving him wider-bottomed pants, which i got from when i tried to draw these guys in clone high style [i never posted that one either][i will eventually]

snick: he gets to be here because 1. he's like 6 lines 2. i like him and 3. ive scribbled him a few times offhand and it went pretty well

misc

there are some guys missing because those are guys i didn't draw enough [or at all] to have gotten comfortable with them. sorry

i would have Liked to shade these but for the time being i have accepted that my grasp of light/shadow has decayed to the point im not going to be happy with anything i try there, so For Now i am working on my presentation with flats i guess. gerome has a shadow only because he's shaded like that ingame and looks naked without it

anyway if you are still reading [hi?] i get to shamelessly plug now. i'm over the hill of my pizza run now, and while i still have plenty of things i want to make here, most of the bigger more in-depth ones have passed. pizza tower was the first thing in THREE YEARS to get me out of my oc groove to doing fanart, and once i am done with my ideas here i will be going right back to it. if you like my art or how i write characters/interactions you should check out my oc/webcomic blog @jamverse . i can't promise people who like pizza stuff will be terribly into my designs, but i can guarantee i treat my guys with the exact same sort of tone i handle the pt guys with. and hell, i've mentioned it a few times before, but like 70% of my characterization for fake pep is just copied off one of my characters, so if u are going to miss him... he will still be there in spirit >;p

and if you dont care about any of that and are still reading thank you anyway. actually making these comics + seeing how shockingly well-received they've been has done a lot for my confidence, and for seeing that my kind of stuff IS something people enjoy :')

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #gustavo and brick #the noise #noisette #pizzahead #arting #pizzaposting

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percyluvr · 3 months

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could you do a jason grace x fem!reader , where the reader gets a little jealous since Jason gets hit on/asked out a lot by other ppl, and she is a little jealous, but jason just reassures her that she's the only one for him? im just craving some fluffy bf!jason content rn haha

jason grace x fem!reader summary: you get jealous when jason gets flirted with, but he reassures you that you're the only girl for him wc: 987

Being with a guy like Jason wasn't easy, and you'd known that from the day you started dating him, but you didn't expect to feel so insecure about yourself all the time. It wasn't like it was his fault, no, not even close.

You knew he was bound to get flirted with, he was very handsome after all, but it made you so insecure and you felt horrible about yourself, especially when girls that you considered way prettier than you began to flirt with him.

You never wanted to make him feel bad, so you never told him, but keeping it to yourself was beginning to take a toll on you. Typically, you and Jason told each other everything, and you were beginning to feel guilty for not telling him, especially when it was one of the only things on your mind recently.

At camp, everyone knew everyone, so it made you even more frustrated and insecure when other campers flirted with him. It made you think that they thought you were less than them and that they didn't care that Jason was dating you.

Before you began dating Jason, you generally thought that you were at least average, but now you felt like you were the absolute bottom of the barrel, and it was not a good feeling.

You wished so badly that you could voice this to Jason, but he had already dealt with so much that you didn't want to add to that, but apparently he'd caught on to how you were feeling.

The two of you were sat on a log near the campfire, Jason's arm wrapped around your body and your head laying on his shoulder. He was gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm in a soothing motion, subconsciously trying to make you feel better. His efforts to make you feel better had been working until a girl came up to you two, her eyes immediately looking Jason up and down in a flirtatious way.

"Give me a visit sometime, would you, handsome?" She gave him a wink and sauntered off to where she was sitting before.

You felt yourself tearing up and accidentally let out a small sniffle that you hoped Jason didn't hear. Unfortunately for you, he does hear, and gives you a concerned look.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asks.

You clear your throat. "Um, nothing, excuse me for a second," you quickly say before removing yourself from his embrace and rushing off to your cabin. You hear Jason's footsteps behind you.

"Woah, slow down. Come on, talk to me, please," he pleads.

"Jason, please, I just need to be alone for a second," you say, voice cracking. He sadly nods and lets you go into the cabin.

However, what you didn't realize, was that he sat on the steps outside your cabin, waiting for you to be ready to talk, so when you did come out of the cabin, you screamed in surprise.

"Hey, it's just me," he softly says, reaching his hand out. You intertwine your fingers with his and sit down on the step next to him.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Are you ready to talk now, or do you need more time?" He gently asks.

"I think I'm ready," you say.

There's a moment of silence before you speak again. "I've been dealing with this for a while, but I really didn't want to say anything, because I know you're still dealing with a lot, and I didn't want to add to that," you say, pausing to collect your thoughts.

"You're never a burden, okay? I want to know what you're thinking, always," he says as he pulls you closer to him.

"Okay, well, ever since we started dating, I've been feeling kind of.. well, for a lack of better words, insecure. Almost every day someone comes up to you and flirts with you, acting like I'm not even there, and it just makes me feel inferior to them. This is probably stupid, never mind," you spoke, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"It isn't stupid. I hope you know that no matter how you see yourself, or how you think anyone else sees you, I still think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in the world. You know that I would never even reciprocate their flirting, especially when I have you, you're the most important person in my life and I would do anything for you to be happy, okay?" He states, giving you a gentle kiss.

"Really? You mean it?" You ask, looking up at him.

"Really," he says with a smile. "I love you more than anything in the world."

#jason grace x you #jason grace fluff #jason grace #jason grace imagine #hoo #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #heroes of olympus

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todoroki-waifu · 10 months

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Can i request a story about the reader being in another school that is a rival of easton even though reader and rayne are a couple? Thanks💞 (im sorry if this is a weird idea i just thought it up in my head😅)

Note: Thank you for this! And it's not weird at all! It was a cute idea. Not sure how I feel about how I wrote this, but I hope you still like it. Also, Luke is a random character I made up.

Rayne x Reader

Warning: Female reader, cursing, and a guy hitting on/bothering the reader to be his.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count:828

------

Your excitement was increasing with every step as you approached Easton Academy. Your dorm mate is beside you, talking about today's event. There was a duelo match at Easton and your school was playing against them. Schoolwork had kept you and Rayne from physically seeing each other, but you still found ways to communicate.

You and Rayne have been together for a little over a year now, but only a select few knew this. You both weren't ashamed of your relationship, but you agreed it was best to not announce it so loudly. You couldn't deal with people digging deep into your personal business and you knew it'd only fuel rumors and gossip since your boyfriend was from Easton. Despite your schools having history with each other, it didn't stop the two of you from falling for each other.

"I have a feeling the match is gonna go into overtime." You hear your roommate as you search for your boyfriend. You planned on sitting beside each other to watch the game.

"Yeah? You think?"

"I'm pretty sure! Both teams are at the top this season."

"You're not wrong there." It didn't matter to you who won, you were more focused on being able to hug Rayne again. A voice shouts your name and your eyes target its source. You groan at the approaching male with his friends not too far behind, your roommate cursing at his presence.

"Hey there, ___(y/n)! You ready to cheer me on?"

"Hey, Luke..." You forced out a polite smile.

"We gotta go and grab some seats. Bye!" __(r/n) links her arm with yours, attempting to pull you away from Luke and his team.

"Oh c'mon, stop cockblocking. I wanna talk to my girlfriend." Luke interferes with your escape route.

"Don't call me that. I already told you that I have a boyfriend." You glare, your patience thinning rapidly the more you are around the duelo captain.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're just playing hard to get." He slips between you and __(r/n), draping his arm over your shoulders. You immediately create distance between the two of you, your eyebrows knitting together.

"No, I'm not. Just like how I've told you many, many times before, I'm happily taken."

"That's just a lie." Luke steps closer to you once again. "You're always saying that."

"And I'm going to keep saying it." You were praying that someone would just date this idiot so he'd finally leave you alone. But all the other girls knew better.

"It's just that I've never seen or heard about him before." You feel your hand being taken in his and lures you close to his body. "If you really have a boyfriend, then where is he?"

"Right here." Fingers grip tightly on Luke's wrist, granting you freedom. You automatically knew who it was because only one voice made your heart jump. You whisper his name, your blonde and black haired boyfriend now blocking Luke's view from you. Scum like him didn't deserve to lay eyes on his girlfriend.

"Hey man, let go!" Luke's shout attracts a large audience from both academies. “Who the hell are you?”

"I’m ___(y/n)’s boyfriend.”

“What? Yeah right! I’ve never seen you two together!”

“It is none of your concern whether you have seen us together or not. If she has told you that she was already dating someone, you should have ceased your annoying advances from the beginning.”

It was almost as if Ranye’s golden orbs were eerily glowing the longer he held his gaze at the duelo captain.

“Che, whatever! I ain't wasting any more time with you. I got a match to win.” Luke pulls his hand back, trying to rub the pain away without seeming affected by the Sword Cane’s strength. Rayne ignores his comment, for now, and tends to you immediately.

"Are you alright?" He inspects for any physical injuries and distress in your eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Rayne gently rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the soft skin under his thumb. You smile into his touch, leaning into it. His lips slightly tug downard at the thought of you having gone through that boy's pestering for quite some time. Rayne heard you complain about your multiple rejections. He couldn't blame you since you respected the promise you both made in regards to hiding each other's identity. Also, knowing you, you didn't want to worry the magic blade user.

Well, he couldn't allow that to continue. He breathes out your name, his other hand claiming your free cheek.

"I think it's time to let everyone know our little secret." Rayne lays his lips over yours delicately, ignoring the various noises from the onlookers. You couldn't help but melt into his kiss, pressing yourself a bit closer to him. It felt so liberating and exciting now that you both can show each other off. He wanted it to be clear who exactly your mystery boyfriend was.

#mashle x reader #rayne ames x reader #rayne x reader #rayne x you #rayne x y/n #Rayne Ames x you #Rayne Ames x y/n #Rayne fluff #Rayne Ames fluff #Rayne imagines #Rayne Ames imagines #mashle x you #mashle fluff #mashle imagines #rayne ames drabble #rayne drabble #mashle drabble

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loveydovey-leviathan · 5 months

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"promise"

leona x gn!reader

summary: leona pushes you away because he wants you to be happy | 2k words

cw: very loosely based on the song "promise" by laufey, reader is yuu, farena uses yuu's happiness against his brother, kinda ooc, leona doesn't know how to handle his emotions or problems, he's a dick but when is he not, leona pushes you away and he doesn't communicate properly, reader chooses leona over their world, happy ending because im not one of those writers who likes to see everyone suffer /j

The day Leona had was too nice and the night too beautiful for him to be putting up with his perfect, always-the-first-choice, thinking-he-knew-what-was-best-for-everyone, and quite frankly just plain annoying older brother.

"What do you want?" he grumbles as soon as he answers the call, lying down on his bed.

"What, I can't call my younger brother just because?" Farena chuckles, a sound familiar to Leona but he knows him well enough to realise that he has an ulterior motive besides just checking up on him.

"You don't call unless it's to tell me something."

"Now, I know that's not true! I've called you plenty of times but-"

"Spit it out."

The voice on the huffs, but it's followed by a few seconds of silence. Leona is about to hang up before Farena finally breaks it.

"I know about your relationship with the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, Leona. Did you really think you could hide it from me.?

"I never hid it from you."

"Then how come you didn't tell me? It's been months!"

"I don't tell you anything."

"I know that but I thought you'd tell me this at the very least," another sigh from the King. Leona waits for him to continue because there's clearly more to this pointless conversation.

"Leona, you may not be King but you still have responsibilities to uphold."

"I knew what I was getting into when I chose ___."

"Yes, but do they know?"

"Of course, they do, they aren't stupid."

"Are you sure? And I mean absolutely sure, no doubts whatsoever and everything was made crystal clear since the beginning. I'm not talking about the stupid part, in case you were wondering."

"What are you getting at," it was more of a demand than a question.

"You're a prince, Leona! That's what I'm getting at, you can't be selfish like this!"

"Yes, I can," Leona knew he was selfish, but so many things had been taken from him purely by chance, but you chose to love him. He was your first choice and he'd love you for the rest of his life, consequences and stupid responsibilities be damned.

"I meant concerning ___. They're from another world, correct? Would you make them choose between you and the family they have back in their home?"

Leona doesn't like to think about it. The thought is shoved into the far corners of his mind, where worries as heavy as this are left to fester, waiting to attack on lonely nights. He grips his bed sheets tight.

"You should consider their happiness as well, Leona," he knows that, everything he's done was in an effort to do so– to prove to you that you weren't going to regret loving him.

"And if they do choose you, and if this relationship lasts until both of you graduate, do you think they'll be happy here with you? It's one thing to date during school, but when you leave its confines and truly become a Prince, will they still be happy with you? Royalty has always upheld a tremendous amount of responsibility, and the spouse of said royalty is expected to share that burden alongside them."

Once again, Leona doesn't answer, and Farena sighs. It's one of finality and exhaustion.

"I hope you think about what I've said tonight, Leona. Good night, and I'm always here when you need me," the call ends and the second son puts down the phone. He doesn't know how long he stays awake staring at the ceiling, but by the end of it, he clenches his fist even harder and grits his jaw. He loves you too much to be selfish.

━━━━━━━

You find Leona under his usual spot in the botanic garden. He’s as pretty as always but it’s immediately evident to you that something is wrong. His body is too tense, there are dark circles under his eyes and his tail is lashing side to side in a rapid manner.

“Leona?” you call to him, but he doesn’t answer, though you know he’s awake. You step towards him and sit down near his head, expecting him to drag your body nearer so he can lay on your lap. He doesn’t move.

You know him much more than he thinks you do, so there isn’t a doubt in your mind when you ask “...Did your brother call?”. At that, he finally raises an eyelid and his mouth moves to form the question you’ve become used to, ‘How’d you know?’ but only a sigh leaves his lips.

Suddenly he sits up, and you notice that there’s at least a foot of distance in between you. He stares at your face for a while and the silence as you wait for him to say something stretches more than it should– something is wrong and even though he isn’t acting that weird, there’s a heavy feeling in your gut that spreads to your chest and onto your fingers, begging to hold him.

So you do. You scoot closer and entwine your hands with his. He hesitates for 1, 2, 3 seconds before squeezing back and tucking his head into the crook of your neck like all he wants to do is hide away. Gently, ever so gently, you place his head onto his usual spot on your thighs and he buries his face in your stomach. The action is tight and desperate, his body curls as though he wants to mould his very being to you. It cracks open your ribs and makes your heart bleed because when he hurts, you hurt with him.

The rest of the lunch break is quiet but he doesn’t fall asleep. And when you leave you don’t see him for days.

━━━━━━━

He senses you before he even hears your footsteps, before the warm and familiar sound of your voice fills the hallways of this school. It’s always been like that with you, he realises. He doesn’t even have to search for you– it’s like he already knows his place in the world and that’s by your side, so he just gravitates towards the one he’s given his heart to. But he makes a conscious effort to ignore the tug of his legs that instinctively wants to be near and moves away.

He knows he should just tell you, end it all before he hurts you and the poison in his veins that tells him he’s never going to be good enough taints you as well– which you aren’t, you deserve so much more than a second no-good prince– but he’s also selfish, and he figures out that he is also a giant coward.

The voice that tells him so screams at him when he breaks his promise and goes back to you, tail between his legs and shame on his shoulders weighing him down. It always happens when he’s delirious on sleep deprivation because he can’t close his eyes without seeing you and the hurt expression you try to hide when you think no one’s looking. He tries to push you away, or rather to pull himself away– but he can’t stand the thought of you going back to life without him even though his conscious mind wants you to.

When he first showed up at your doorstep, the betrayal and shock pummelled his soul to the earth and made his heart drop to his gut. But you didn’t say anything when he barged into your personal space and wrapped himself around you like he never left. He half-expected you to demand why he’d been so distant but all you did was hug him back so tight his heart lodged in his throat and tears welled up from the choking feeling. You took him by the hand and you both slept on the couch that night. By the next morning, he was gone without a word and the guilt felt even heavier, knowing he got your hopes up. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again.

That night repeats days after and the cycle repeats. His visits don’t have a pattern. Sometimes, he comes after 3 days, others a week or more. By the third visit, you look tired- of him. He hates it but somehow it feels right, not in the way he likes but in the way you’re supposed to. The way you deserve to. Maybe if you hated him you wouldn’t hurt.

━━━━━━━

He’s lost count of how many times he’s visited but tonight when he sees you, you look angry, rightfully so. You’re undeservingly patient towards him. When Leona sees your face, you’re angry– furious at him. You look like you want to throw him across all your furniture in hopes that he feels the same way you feel.

“Leona–” he hates the way you say his name. It’s angry and cruel and deserved. “-- what the hell is going on? You won’t tell me what happened to make you act like this and then you ignore me for days right after–”

“Nothing’s going on,” he stubbornly grumbles. Like he’s said every time you’ve asked. Every time he says this you look increasingly frustrated because it’s obvious that he’s lying– and your eyebrows scrunch in exasperation once more.

But this time your face falls and his heart stops.

“We can’t keep doing this anymore, if you don’t tell me– then I can’t be with you.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so frazzled– this is what he’s been waiting for because he was too much of a weakling to tell you himself, why he started all of this in the first place.

But he misses you, and he’s selfish. He always has been and he doubts he’s ever going to change.

“Would you choose me?” The question makes you pause.

“Leona, I did choose you–”

“If you could go back to your world, would you still choose me?” Would you pick me first?

You’re silent then. His palms almost bleed with how hard he clenches his hands as he waits for you.

“...Yes. Yes, I would. If you tell me why you’re acting like this.” He doesn’t know if you’re telling the truth, if you’ll still tell him that if there really was a time you had to choose between him and your world. But he’s so tired, and he loves you more than the amount of stars there are in the sky.

“I got a call from Farena,” this makes you hesitantly reach for his hand. He meets you halfway and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. The action makes him want to tear up– you’re still so gentle with him after everything.

“Do you think you’ll be happy with me? When we both graduate and I have to help my brother rule, will you be happy?”

He feels your hand on his cheeks, lifting his head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes isn't angry or hurt, it’s soft and understanding. He almost forgot how it felt to be on the other side of your affections.

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose you. You’re rough around the edges but you make me happy in ways no one ever did, like no one ever could.”

He moves his arms to hug you but he stops, still not sure if he’s allowed to. You meet him halfway and he buries his face into your neck. You feel tears stain your shirt and he lets out a sigh so deep and tired it makes you smile.

“Haven’t been able to sleep without you, herbivore.”

You chuckle, “Guess you aren’t getting rid of me then.”

“...Sorry.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

You hold him with enough love to break his heart all over again, and he holds you like a beast who doesn’t deserve it but will gladly take anything you give him.

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adiralovespercyjackson · 1 month

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Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Percy Jackson x gn!reader

Summary: Percy is dating Annabeth (love percabeth). But reader is swept away by Percy and can't help their feelings. Eventually, they talk and start dating. Everyone is suddenly distant to reader bc they ruined the best ship. Reader is insecure but Percy would gladly spend all his life reassuring them.

Fluff 💙💙🪼🌊🔱⚜️

On the radio~

🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼

(1st person)

There goes Percabeth, I thought bitterly. I have always had a crush on percy, but Annabeth got to him first. I didn't have anything against Annabeth, I just thought it was unfair. Unfair because I lost. "Y/n!" I had most the whole world tuned out as I read my book, sitting at a random bench near the lake, the sun hiting bare shoulders since I was just wearing a bikini, trying to tan. "Y/n!" oh. They're talking to me. Great. I looked up to see Percy's toned figure and sea-green eyes staring back at me with a bright smile. "Oh. Hey, Perce," I put on a fake smile as I speak. "Sorry, I tuned you out!" "No worries! Happens to the best of us, " he said, smiling. "What's up?" I could've sworn he had checked me out, but I wasn't so sure. "Oh yknow, trying to get a tan, reading, the usual." I said. "Oh, alright. Have fun!" he said, about to leave. "Wait! Perce!" I said, Calling out to him before could leave. Percy didn't say anything, he just waited for me to speak. "I... I know that you are dating Anna, an you guys are best best couple I've ever seen, but- but I like you..." I looked up Percy to see him staring at me in shock. "W-well...Im not dating Annabeth anymore..." he said. "Wait wha-" I was shocked at the least. "We decided to stick as friends because she is going through a sexuality crisis," he seemed calm but almost nervous and jittery at the same time. "I like you too, Y/n. Maybe we can date?..." he looked at me hopefully. "Of course!" she said, wanting to scream in joy.

(3rd person)

Fast forward to a couple months later. They decide to go public with their relationship and now a majority of her friends we're way more distant. Her stuff is often vandalized with words like 'slut!' and 'homewrecker'. People often spread rumours about her when she wasn't listening— when they thought she wasnt listening. He never voiced this to Percy, for multiple reasons. One, what if they're right? Is she a slut and a homewrecker? Would Percy stop loving her if he saw a different perspective? Two, what if he didn't care or didn't believe her? What would she do then? She also has always feel insecure about her body and just herself in general. Would Percy not like her if she wasn't confident? She needs to stop being an ugly coward. The two of them were actually on a date right now, and they were sitting on the beach. "Baby, what's wrong?" Percy asked, clearly concerned for his beautiful girlfriend. "Oh. Nothing..." she said, putting on a heavily fake smile. "Y/n L/n, my love, my girl, darling. Please don't lie to me." he said. He might have the nickname 'seaweed brain', but he wasn't an idiot. "I'm sorry for ruining it." she started sniffling. "For what?" Percy was genuinely confused, his beloved, beautiful, girlfriend couldn't possibly do any wrong. "Ruining your relationship." she was sobbing into his chest, the sea-salty scent blanketing her in a comforting warmth. "Baby.... No..... You didn't do anything." he lifted her chin with his index finger. "We broke up before you confessed, remember?" "oh...." she said, feeling stupider than usual. "Am I a slut?..." she asked. Percy's eyes widened and he tackled her into a hug, spooning her while laying in the sand. "Who told you that?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming protective and menacing. "E-everyone..." she said quietly. "Everyone spreads rumours about me and calls me name. In front of me and behind my back. They say that I ruined you and Annabeths relationship." she sighed into his arm. "I'm ugly and not confident. Why do you like me?" Percy audibly gasped at this, his precious is none of those things. "You aren't any of these things. You may act and look different than others, but no one looks the exact same. You are gorgeous, if not in your eyes, in mine. I chose to date you for a reason." he hugged her tighter in a slightly possessive way. "Mine." he said, his voice muffled since his face was burried in her neck.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo fanfic

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loves0phelia · 24 days

Note

miguel o’hara x nurse!gf pls

All This Time?

Summery: the request

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: injuries, getting hurt on purpose, grammar mistakes.

A/N: Thank you :)

You and Miguel met each other on a normal day. Usually when you meet someone new nothing very extraordinary really happens but your encounter with him was so uncommon it felt like it was staged.

Still wearing your usual blue scrubs, holding a well needed coffee after a 16 hour shift, you were on your way out of your workplace. You went to violently open the entry door of the hospital, but you hadn't noticed Miguel on the other side. So when you slammed it open the door stopped abruptly making your nose knock right into it.

Your coffee dropped from your hand right onto the white tiled floor.

“Shit!” You yelled, your now unoccupied hand came up to your face to hold your nose in pain.

“Dios mío, are you okay? I'm so sorry” He finally came around the door. His body was towering over yours and his gentle eyes observed you in pure concern.

“Do I look okay?” tears had welled in your eyes involuntary because of the impact.

“Not really…” he admitted, not sure what more to say.

“Of course I don't! im dirty, i smell and now I have a swelling nose” your salty tears were now rolling down your cheeks. This accident was your last straw.

“Would it make you feel better if we went to the coffee shop around the corner? it would be better than that cold hospital coffee you had” he eyed the brown liquid now dripping into a bigger puddle and then lifted his gaze to yours.

“I- sure” you wiped away your crocodile tears and passed him to finally go outside the building. You couldn't stay one more second inside that place.

That night you and Miguel had coffee, and a pastry he begged you to taste, but you also shared numbers.

You guys ended up calling the next day to meet again, and the day after that and the next one. Which led your friendship here.

Almost two years later after he proposed you a job, you were now a nurse at HQ. He had seen how bad your work conditions were at your old job and couldn't live with knowing you were treated badly at work. Now, he was your boss and Miguel would always make sure you were comfortable and happy, especially after you learned about him being spider man and the entire multiverse. Nothing could stop him from doing so and you knew he would never let you down.

“Lyla, could you tell Peter I've gotten Mayday’s report back and tell him she only has the flu. Nothing to worry about '' you call out to the AI. Even though she wasn't physically present she had ears everywhere in the headquarters in case a spider person needed her help.

“Consider it done!” She appeared out of thin air and talked in a bubbly manner. But that wasn't unusual for her. Lyla was always cheerful.

“Also, Miguel is on his way” she added before disappearing and you couldn't even react to her statement before Miguel came through the door out of breath, as if he had been running a marathon.

You watched as he made his way into the medical bed, he groaned and shifted trying to find a comfortable way to lay down.

“How many times do i have to tell you to be careful during your missions, almost seems like you do it on purpose” you sighed before gathering your equipment to treat all of his injuries.

His hologram spider suit disappeared and you noticed the large bruises forming along his chest. Your eyes examined the rest of his body and you frowned seeing the various other scars and cuts.

“i thought it was the Rhino anomaly again” You said, genuinely concerned about his health.

“it was” Miguel’s eyes avoid yours.

“How come you're so banged up then? You've dealt with the rhino anomaly hundreds of times. You know how to get rid of it” You said in a scolding tone.

“I know” he kept his eyes low.

“what happened?” you said now lowering your tone.

“you were right” his eyes finally found yours.

“About what?” you asked, confused,

“I did it on purpose,” he admitted and something in you snapped.

“What the hell! Why would you do that? You could've gotten seriously hurt” you were angry and sad at his confession.

“I knew I wouldn't have gotten hurt badly, I knew what I was doing ok?” He tried reassuring you but he failed miserably. You couldn't understand why he would do this to himself. You couldn't stand to see him hurt.

Your hands worked on his injuries furiously but still gently enough not to hurt him anymore. He tried explaining but you were not letting him.

“y/n stop please. Let me explain, caríno” he grabbed your hands to stop any of your movement and you sighed, accepting to finally let him speak.

“Ever since Iost Gabriella i never allowed myself to love anyone else, but when i met you i knew instantly that i could not resist you. I tried countless times to ask you out and express how I felt but everything I did felt wrong. The only way I managed to see you and talk to you was when I got hurt during missions” he sat up in the bed as his hand squeezed yours but you couldn't bring yourself to look up at him.

“So you thought the best idea was to get hurt purposely to be able to be near me?” you spoke lowly.

“yes, i know it was a bad idea-”

“It was the baddest idea Miguel! I thought you knew i loved you” you slapped your hand on your forehead.

“wait what? you love me?” he genuinely asked.

“Of course I do, you big idiot, you didn't notice all the times I looked at you? or all the times I wanted to be around you?”

“Now that you mention it-” his cockiness makes you grab the nearest pillow and slap it on his head.

“Okay, Okay I'm sorry!” you both laughed.

“So you're telling me I was getting hurt on purpose to get your attention all this time for nothing?” he smiled and you almost melted on the spot but you still nodded.

Slowly he leaned in and placed his lips against yours. He lingered there for a moment like he was asking for permission, silently, and then he placed a delicate kiss on your soft lips.

It was slow but passionate and in this very moment you never felt more happy.

“You're telling me I could have been kissing those pretty lips all this time too?” you giggled, nodded and pressed another kiss to his lips.

#miguel ohara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fluff

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livingemkayde · 9 months

Text

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday.

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house.

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night.

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night.

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation.

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you.

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in.

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his.

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother.

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer.

But you didn’t really do — anything.

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs.

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear.

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe.

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams.

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers.

But never fear — well, not until right now.

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy.

Some hours earlier.

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard.

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables.

Yesterday:

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party.

But his words echo in your mind.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

You let out a cursed sigh.

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy.

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more.

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets.

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought.

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket.

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you.

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart.

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips.

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone.

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh.

“Perfection takes time.”

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight.

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder.

He’s looking back at you too.

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around.

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you.

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd.

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with.

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now.

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle.

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier.

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup.

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station.

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink.

“So,” she says, giving you a wink.

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way.

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance.

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue.

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue.

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.”

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah.

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters.

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.”

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow.

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind.

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies.

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion.

“W-what? I—”

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it.

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back.

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning.

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.”

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel.

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you.

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.”

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit.

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now.

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge.

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question.

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough.

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear.

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces.

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone.

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear.

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts.

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party?

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else.

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan.

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy.

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.”

Tommy—harmless.

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried.

It’s Tommy. It’s fine.

Right?

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled.

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess.

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—”

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday.

He looks down.

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile.

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand.

“Thanks.”

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence.

“Joel helped you?”

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front.

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended.

“I wanted to go on my own.”

Tommy doesn't look convinced.

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction.

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet.

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.”

Shit.

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse.

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside.

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?”

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil.

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last.

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it.

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind.

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.”

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—”

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know.

“‘S okay,” He says.

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope.

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—”

“What is that?”

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless.

“What? I don’t—”

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline.

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?”

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead.

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too.

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip.

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises.

“What the hell is that?”

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down.

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture.

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you.

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond.

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable.

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud.

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here.

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything.

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance.

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help.

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better.

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head.

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it.

“He didn’t,” you reply.

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction.

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—”

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you.

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do.

Joel moves to speak but you do it first.

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.”

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel.

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him.

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking.

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?”

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you.

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again.

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual.

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?”

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?”

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air.

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face.

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think.

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has.

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite.

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist.

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him.

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again.

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car.

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her.

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window.

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all.

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl.

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat.

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges.

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping.

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle.

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart.

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there.

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises.

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there.

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.”

You shake your head.

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle.

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape.

“That I liked it.”

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes.

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—”

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs.

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head.

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you.

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on.

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off.

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath.

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly.

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips.

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you.

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling.

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp.

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move.

It’s kind of like a game.

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses.

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder.

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred.

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better.

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands.

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do.

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you.

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding.

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.”

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster.

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right.

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again.

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does.

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere.

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you.

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away.

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him.

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh.

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