#he does not look like a jumper and is not built like one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

Hello my beautiful bubs💗 so I see you added Max Burnett to your list and like to request a little angsty and fluff.

So Maybe him and reader get into a ugly and heated argument or he leaves her with no explanation like he does in the movie but then they End up fixing everything after awhile.

hey baby! I hope you like what I wrote!

summary - max left you with a word, causing you to go through many stages of heartbreak until you finally meet again after 5 years.

warning - angst, swearing, heartbreak, no happy ending.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

He told you to meet him here. You were sure of it. You had reread the address and time he sent, not wanting to disappoint him. You waited anxiously on the bed, gnawing your bottom lip as you whipped your head from the door to your phone. You turned it on and went to the messages, opening his contact.

Max❤: Meet me at our spoken place, you know what room. No, later than 12.

You looked at the time, noting it was now an hour past 12, and you were all alone. You scrolled through the messages you had sent him.

You: I’m here. 12:00 seen

You: Max? Where are you? 12:05 seen

You: Max? 12:15 seen

You stared sadly at your last message.

You: I see… You’re not coming… 1:00 message could not be delivered

You blinked back the tears, wondering if you would’ve seen the signs beforehand if you weren’t so stupidly in love. You would’ve rathered him break things off face to face instead of leaving you like this. Did he even care about you? Were you nothing to him? All these thoughts ran through your head as you stared at the wall, not bothering to wipe the tears that rolled down your cheek away. You must’ve been there for a long time because you were only brought out of your zoned-out state when someone entered the room, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay. You painfully smiled, nodding your head before leaving. You made your way home, feeling drained of all emotion, not knowing if you’ll ever feel okay again.

You slowly stripped from your clothes, turned the shower on and entered. Your head rested against the cool tile, letting the water run down your body as tears fell from your eyes. Your heart hurt more than ever, squeezing harshly inside your chest as if someone had reached inside and begun to squeeze. Your sobs filled the quietness of your apartment, showing you how alone you really were. Once you were finished with your shower, you slowly got out and dried yourself, dressing in your comfy clothes before crawling into your bed, ignoring the harsh rumbles in your stomach, begging for food, ignoring the dryness of your throat. You just wanted to close your eyes and never wake again.

It had been about five years since Max left you without a goodbye and a shattered heart. You spent the first year numb, barely living or feeling anything. Your friends and family didn’t see or hear from you, and when they did, they noticed that you barely took care of yourself. They tried convincing you to go to therapy, but you stared at them blankly. Barely even hearing a word they spoke to you.

The second year, you spent grieving. Your feelings came crashing down on you one day, and you couldn’t stop the dam from breaking. You’d cry whenever you saw something that reminded you of him, and you’d cry if you saw his name or someone who looked like him. You’d cry when you came home and saw things he had gifted you or the jumper he had left behind. The people in your life were still worried, but they were relieved you were at least feeling something now, taking more care of yourself than the previous year.

And now we are here. For the remaining years, you became cold, heartless, and mean. You had built walls so damn high around your heart that no one could penetrate it. This is what caused the meeting you walked into. Your friends and family sat in your loungeroom as you walked into your apartment, staring at you worriedly. Throwing excuses that they care about you, they're worried about your well-being, and that you need to get help. You left, slamming the door behind you and heading to the closet bar. You sat on the stool and ordered a whiskey, needing something strong. You barely took notice of the man sitting beside you, rolling your eyes as other seats were available.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you drink whiskey.” You scowled, knowing who was now sitting beside you by the voice. Max smirked, leaning against the counter. “What, no hug?” You skulled the rest of your drink, slamming the glass down before slowly turning toward him, noticing the smug look on his face.

You smirk, causing his brows to furrow as confusion takes over his features before you raise your fist and slam it into his face, hearing the crunch of his nose. You slam some bills down onto the counter and begin to walk off, exiting the bar to get as far away from that asshole as possible. You rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw, when you heard him following behind you. “Hey! Wait up!” You don’t. You just pick up your pace until he grabs hold of your arm and spins you, quickly raising his hands as you go to punch him again. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” You growl, stepping closer to the man. “Now you just want to talk? After five fucking years, you finally want to fucking talk?!” You scream, punching his chest until he grabs your wrists and stares at you. You huff, glaring at him. “I don’t want to talk, Max. I want you to fuck off. I want to return to five years ago and get the shattered pieces of my heart back.” You lick your lips, “I want to go back to before I met you so that I could have never met you and fallen for your stupid words and your stupid face. I want to be me again, but guess what? I can’t! Because I fell for you.”

He raises a brow, gulping as he continues to stare at you. He took in how beautiful you had gotten and how your sweet scent wafted through the air and into his nose. He missed you and feels it’s too late to make it up to you, but god, he will try his hardest too. “Are you done?”

“Let me go, you asshole.” You growl. You wouldn’t let him back in. You couldn’t. You don’t know if you’ll survive another heartbreak and aren’t willing to try.

“Just listen to me, okay? I’ve been looking for you for five years.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words. “It’s true, goddamit, Y/n! Will you just fucking listen to me.”

“Or what? What are you going to do, huh? What’s worse than you pretending to fucking love me and then leaving me without so much of a word?” Your glare sharpens, desperately wanting to get far away from him.

“For fuck sake! I didn’t pretend to fucking love you! I still fucking love you! I didn’t have a fucking choice, okay?!” Your brows furrow, wondering what the fuck he means by that. Max sighs. “They were onto you and me. They threatened to hurt you if I met or even spoke to you. It took me four years to get away from them, to get them off my radar. You disappeared. I’ve been looking for you to ensure they didn’t do anything. Fuck! I didn’t want to fucking hurt you!”

You shake your head, not wanting to believe him. You couldn’t. Sure, you still had some love for him, but you couldn’t put yourself through that again. Max cups your cheeks, looking into your eyes with his tear-filled ones. “Please, just give me a chance… Even as a friend, I just… Please, I need to have you in my life.” You shrug against him, stepping back and away from him.

“I don’t know… Maybe in another life, but I don’t know if I can put myself through that again.” You swallow the sob that tries to pass your lips before turning away from him and walking away, holding back the tears that want to fall.

“Y/n! Please!” He cries vision blurred with tears as he watches you leave him like he left you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

2K notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 3 months

Note

Yandere Ex Husband Price/Kyle/Johnny head canons !!!!

He still believes you two are together no matter what you are the state says

He keeps delaying signing the divorce papers

He keeps bothering u no matter how much u push him away

Hi pookie!! Hope ur doing well!

— Yandere Ex-husband Johnny being a menace headcanons

Warnings: yandere behavior, mention of sex and alcohol, much overbearing.

A/N: Decided to go with Johnny ;)! Enjoy <3

It’s a shame, no? You two were destined to be together. Forever.

He hated being away from you. Not being able to touch you was hell. But, ever since you started acting out, yelling and fighting, breaking out and ignoring him completely, it’s been crushing his heart. Between his missions and your own work, you two barely talked; broken promises turning into broken hearts with wide holes.

He tried making it up, he really did!! Bought you flowers, dates that ended up with hours’ worth of love and sex, but it was never enough.

And it made your beloved husband sad. It made me angry. Why can’t you understand you two are meant for each other?

So after you demanded a divorce, he went along with it. A smirk that widened his blue eyes, nodding as you scoffed at his playful demise.

But, who even listens to those stupid documents? Certainly not, your beloved MacTavish. You were still his, regardless of what the state, or that mind of yours tells you.

Johnny knows in his gut, in his heart, you’re still in love with him. That one slap you snuck on him was just an accident. That one kick to the balls was just annoyance. The rip of the brand-new underwear he gave you, for Valentine’s Day, was the wrong size. You’re just afraid. The missions he was doing were taking a toll on you; the unsafe feeling crawling up your back. And he was going to protect you to the very end of his line.

Despite your annoyance, he still picks up your favorite food, coming over to pester you. The knocking, never stopping. The doorbell, which he built, rings your ears. He’ll keep doing it, till he sees his pretty face that he wants to smooch in.

And if you ignore him? Well, guess he’ll have to move in next door! Giving you a smirk when you caught him by the mailbox. So what if you kicked him out? People call him Soap for a reason.

Finally, when the time is right – Johnny runs over, hand full of items he’ll know you’ll love.

He knocks, a large hand ringing the doorbell as he yells for your name. He waits, does it again until he smiles at the recognizable stomping of your feet. You’re so cute when you’re angry!

Of course, as he predicted it, you open the door with an attitude. Nose scrunched. Eyes giving him a glare. And the obvious, “What?”. He chuckles, fixing his jumper as he leans in closer to you.

He covers a sly excuse that he just wanted to check up on you, one hand holding pretty flowers, your favorite, as the other holds a few beers. He smiles, watching how you leaned against the front door. “Looks like you could use a beer, sweets?”

You roll your eyes, inviting him in. How stupid do you have to be, dolley?

He still takes every chance to place his hands on your hips, your waist, his lips on your neck. As soon as you two come inside, door locking, Johnny reaches over and seductively grasps your elbow, growling how he needs to talk to you, watching your eyes go wide as you realize Johnny is not your husband. Yet, you’re still so obedient? Why is that?

He lets you go, chuckling. He’s jus’ joking, peach! But, when you two sit down for the dinner he bought, he knows he’s back into your heart. All quiet. All stiff and being bothered by his presence. It’s cute, isn’t it?

As dinner finishes, you get up and do dishes; an immediate distance that you need to take. But he chuckles, you think he’d let you off that hook that fast? How sad.

He passes behind the counter, surprising you with his hands on your hips, as he draws you into him, making sure you feel how much he’s missed you. His fingers deepen into your skin, growling into your ear, “Shoulda kept ya’ all safe, tucked in bed f’me, yeah?”

Before you know it, it’s months of him not signing the papers. And it’s dawning on you. Irritation digging in your bones, you want to be by yourself! Have a life without Johnny! Get a real job, have real friends, not ones he forces you to have.

And behind all that glass, Johnny is smirking. Calloused fingers pulling at his hair as he watches you from afar.

He could wait all day to get the silly idea of divorce out of your head. And you would, just eventually. It’s a waiting game, he’s done it before – enemies and you – so he’ll do it again.

And maybe, just maybe, he can handle a few more months of “Divorce.” And if you continue going out, getting ready for dates, for only your rightful husband to ruin it, he might need to fuck the business into you, right?

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

386 notes · View notes

tomriddlehyperfixataion · 5 months

Text

Tom Riddle x reader - The bet.

Modernish? Au? one of those -son of Voldemort Tom's that has Mattheo as a brother n stuffs like that-none of thats important to the fic i just wanted to put that up so them having phones makes sense, also they have charmed phones so they work within hogwarts. :p

starts off with texts messages --(two dashes) with italics for (y/n) and -(one dash) and bold for Tom.

It was a stupid bet, one that Tom was already regretting even thought it hadn't started yet. it all started with his girlfriend (y/n) being cheeky while she was supposed to be in class and asking for a bloody abs picture from him while he was trying to study.

--hey tommy~?

Tom didn't know why he didn't put on the 'do not disturb' feature on when he was studying, because (y/n) always bugged him when he studied. he picked up his phone that had vibrated when he got a text and saw what his girlfriend texted him, he quickly sent a reply back and then set his phone back down.

-What is it this time (y/n)? -Did you get detention, again? -I'm not getting you out of it this time.

(y/n) replied quickly, which told Tom she wasnt paying attention at all while she was supposed to be in charms class.

--nooo that was one time tommy --okay maybe two times --okay three....five times --whatevs thats not what im texting u for --do you think you could to me a favors? ill return it?

Now Tom was, slightly(emphasis on slightly) intrigued, sighing as he picked his phone back up after reading the texts as they came in and messing (y/n) back.

-What is it (y/n)?

(y/n) replied almost instantly, which made Tom annoyed because merlin's beard she was in class!!

--ab pic? plssss???

-...Are you actually serious?? Did you just text me to ask me for an ab picture?

--yes. pls? ill send something back? pls? pls pls pls? all the other girls get ab pics from their boys? and you've got a baaaady bb~

-No.

--plsss?

-(y/n) I'm busy.

--does that mean 'im busy so ill send one later' orrrrr

-(y/n).

--Tommy.

Tom sighed, setting his phone down, willing himself back to studying, but curiosity had him picking his phone back up and typing a response.

-Why do you even want an ab pic?

--cuz

-That's not an answer (y/n).

--plllllllls tommy? ill send you something back i stg

Tom's interest was once again piqued, his brow raising. she would...send something back?

-And I'm supposed to take your word for that?

-bet

Tom scrambled to catch his phone when another message was sent from his girlfriend, except it wasn't a text, it was a photo. Of her in nothing but his jumper, sitting in front of mirror, the jumper pulled up above her chest to show off her body that got him feeling feral, her face just barely obscured in the photo-but he could see her tantalizing smirk that always had him going nuts.

He quickly got a handle on his phone and texted (y/n) back with a clench in his jaw.

-CHRIST (y/n)!!! -You're in class!!!

--and you, aren't~! --enjoy bb~ now about that ab pic?

He was blushing for sure, his face hot and red and he felt his trousers get tight. He shuffled in his seat, running his hand through his hair. He thought about it for a hot moment before he groaned and stood up, going into his bathroom and turning the light on.

He texted (y/n) one last time before pulling his button-up off and snapping a picture of his upper body. He wasn't really built like Draco or his brother Mattheo was, he wasn't a quidditch player, but he did have defined muscles and (y/n) liked them, so that was fine.

-ffs fine. -photo sent.

-Happy?

--👀👀🥵😍💞🥰👌👌👌👌👌👌

Tom let out a soft snort, leaning against the wall of his bathroom, holding his shirt in his hand as he looked down at (y/n)'s message. Yep, she was happy. he looked back at the photo she had sent him and swallowed, the flush in his face returning as a spark went down his spine, looking at the way her chest was pushed out, her breasts soft and round and such a perfect size for him. her thighs looked bloody gorgeous as well, he wanted to sink his teeth into them again, seeing in the picture some of his previous marks on her skin.

"Fuck," Tom muttered, his head hitting the wall as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his hand falling to smack against his thigh. This girl was going to be the death of him.

he got another message and if he wasn't already flustered, he sure was now because he pulled his phone up so quick. yeah-(y/n) was going to be the death of him.

--thnk u bb~ i can just imagine ur face rn, all red n flustered~ --🥰😂

Tom huffed, rolling his eyes, throwing his shirt onto the sink counter and messaging his girlfriend back(honestly how he had even gotten one was a mystery to not just him, but to all his little 'friend' group.)

-You're a menace. -Your imagination does too many favors for you.

i mean, she was right-his face was all flushed and he definitely was flustered, plus he had a bloody hard on thanks to that hoodie picture; but did she need to know that? Nope.

--oh LOADS --like imagining what you would sound like whimpering for me --thats always a good daydream for me 😈🥵🤪

Tom flushed again, puffing his cheeks too. Whimper? Him? Never.

-I Don't whimper. Not for anyone. -Not even you.

Tom huffed through his nose, his cheeks flushing still as his own imagination began to wander off. but he was brought back to reality when he got another message from (y/n).

--wanna bet? 😈

Oh Fuck.

"Fuck," Tom muttered under his breath, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a moment as he thought of a response. She was riling up intentionally, he knew that, she wanted to see what he would do-how he would respond to her challenge.

-Menace.

--scared Riddle?

-Don't do the fucking 'scared potter' thing on me.

--its working isnt it? i know how you tick bb~ ur just scared i'll make u whimper and i'll make you lose control~

-Shut the fuck up.

--oh swearing now are we? you are flustered

He was, his face was red now and his leg was bouncing, somehow even harder imagining (y/n) doing her absolute best to make him whimper.

--so --wanna bet?

Tom took a long deep breath, running his hand through his hand and then down his face. would he regret this? probably.

Fuck it.

-fine. you're on. what do you wanna bet?

he could feel the feral grin through the phone screen.

--i get five minutes to try and make you whimper, i can do whatever i need to do, if you dont whimper-moaning and other shit you usually do is fine im not cruel bb-in those five minutes you cannnnnn, idk, do whatever you want to me?

Now that was enticing.

-What do you get if you do make me whimper? Which wont happen of course.

--you gotta be REALLY vocal next time we do it. i wanna hear allll the sounds you can make, whimpers, moans, grunts, ANYTHING.

Tom flushed, really? All she wanted was for him to be a bit more...vocal during sex? weirdo.

-Weirdo.

--im UR weirdo.

Damn straight. Tom thought about it for a long moment and then groaned. Ffffine. fucking fine.

-Fine. Bet.

--BET!

Tom let out a long sigh, checking the time. it was still another half hour before (y/n) was done with classes for the day, but he suspected she was going to be heading straight to him as soon as she was done-when she was all excited like this-she wouldn't let go of her 'mission' until she got it done.

And this time-her mission was making him whimper. Well, he would make sure she wouldn't hear a single peep out of him this time.

He put his shirt back on and tucked it back into his pants, sighing when he saw he still had a hard on and simply ignored it, going back to his desk and going back to studying-he needed to get this done before (y/n) relentlessly distracted him later.

His timer went off exactly 30 minutes later and he sighed, pushing away from his desk, setting down his quill. Right on the dot-he got a text from (y/n) and he glanced at it with flushed ears.

--omw.

Yep. He knew it. He began mentally preparing himself for whatever sensual onslaught (y/n) had planned for him, crossing his leg over the other as stared at his almost finished essay, before he could think too much on it-the door to his room opened and in stepped in his girlfriend, looking positively giddy.

Oh boy, he was in trouble.

He stared at her as she locked the door behind her and walked right over to him, huffing a bit when she swung her leg over his lap and sat right down, her arms resting over his shoulder as she leaned in close, grinning like a cat that caught her prey.

"Ready to whimper for me baby?" (y/n) cooed and Tom rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and resting his hand's on her thighs.

"You wont hear a thing," Tom muttered, keeping his voice monotone and his eyes cold, but (y/n) could see the warmth they had for her, and only her. (y/n) grinned and got right to work, cradling his jaw in both hands and pressing her lips to hiss in a passionate and hungry kiss, quickly heating things up as her tongue licked his bottom lip and then pushed into his mouth.

Tom's breath caught in his chest for a split second, his eyes snapping closed as his grip on her thighs tightened, holding back a groan that wanted to escape as (y/n) practically devoured his lips. 'fuck' he thought, this was going to be harder than he thought.

(y/n) kept kissing him in a way that made him breathless and her hips began to grind down against him-making him gasp a bit as he felt her brush against his bulge that had quickly grown the moment (y/n) had stepped into the room. "(y/n)," Tom hissed quietly, his lips, swollen and shiny with spit, parted as (y/n) pulled away and went down to his jaw, nipping and kissing his skin.

She kept moving her hips down into his and he felt his resolve slowly start to crumble as her lips explored his neck, the sensation of her nibbling, biting down, and sucking all over his neck drove him nearly mad. He couldn't help but groan as he tilted his head back, exposing his neck for her.

(y/n) grinned against his neck, licking up the side and trying to find his sweet spot, anything to make him break. "Gonna whimper for me yet?" she asked sweetly, whispering into his ear and kissing the spot behind it.

"Not a chance." Tom said, every word a struggle to get out, his eyes still closed as (y/n) chuckled and went back to his neck, grazing her teeth and tongue against every spot she could-searching for that one spot that would make him break.

"Guess I'll hav'ta try harder then," she whispered, latching onto the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder as one of her hands went between them and Tom let out a choked groan, his face rising with heat as he heard and felt her undoing his belt and pulling his shirt out of his trousers.

"Don't you dare," Tom warned, but if only so he didn't lose this bet. He knew if (y/n) started touching him, his resistance would quickly fall. She was too good at this. (y/n) smirked against his neck and shimmied his trousers and boxers down-Tom's breath caught and his back arched a bit as (y/n)'s soft fingers wrapped around his aching cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

His hips jolted up and then back as her hand began to move, up and down the shaft of his cock, the feeling of her hand driving him mad as the sound of it made it harder to focus on not making those sounds (y/n) so desperately wanted to hear.

"(y/n)," he hissed out, his jaw dropping open as he panted, his breath shuddering with each stroke of his cock and graze of her teeth on his neck. He jolted again when she found the sweet spot on his neck and heat grew in his core as her teeth and tongue lavished that spot with attention while her hand stroked him with increasing intensity, making it harder and harder for him to keep his resolve.

(y/n) shuffled just a bit closer on his lap, his cock pressed against her clothed belly and adding more friction as she moved her hips with her hand, his pre-cum smearing against her skin and clothes.

Fuck.

Tom felt his control falter further as he felt (y/n)'s mouth and her hand work together over his neck and cock. His resolve was broken and he was lost in sensation. A single sound came forth before he could stop it, a hoarse whimper leaving his lips.

(y/n) grinned against his skin, kissing his sweet spot before she pulled back just a bit-her hand continuing to go as she rut her stomach against his cock-feeling him dripping helplessly against her hand and clothes, soaking her shirt in his fluids.

"aww baby, you whimpered," (y/n) cooed-and just then-the five minute timer (y/n) had sneakily set up went off-he had just missed the mark-if he had just lasted another few seconds, he would've won. but he had lost-(y/n) made him whimper.

"Sh-shut-" he let out another hoarse whimper, his breath catching as (y/n) pressed his cock against her belly. "Wh-whatever just-fuck-don't-mmfh- don't tell-tell, shit, tell anyone." Tom commanded, his vision blurry when he looked at (y/n), who was grinning like a bloody basilisk.

"Oh don't worry darling, this is for me and me alone." (y/n)purred, kissing him deeply again, her chest pressed against his as her hand practically fucked his cock, giving him just the right grip as more embarrassing sounds pushed forth from his throat, whimpering into (y/n)'s mouth as she kissed him.

He felt the heat in his core start to spread, his breath and heart going rapid as his head started to fog over with unrelenting pleasure. "shit-(y/n)-FUCK-don't stop-don't stop-don't stop-" Tom babbled as his eyes snapped shut, his head going back as well as (y/n) made out with his jaw and neck, leaving more and more marks on his pale skin as her hand kept going, and going, and going, faster and faster, squeezing a bit whenever she got to the tip-pushing more pre-cum from him until-

Tom's muscles tensed, He gripped the plush of (y/n)'s thighs, his teeth clenching as he felt a tingling throughout his body. His eyes remained shut, although he could still see the world around him somehow.

Then, an intense feeling of warmth started at his core and spread out throughout his entire body. His muscles trembled and shook as he felt pleasure like he hadn't felt before.

A deep moan escaped his lips.

Cum soaked (y/n)'s hand and shirt, some arching over and landing on Tom's belly and thighs while (y/n) began to slowly calm down, her eyes locked onto Tom's bright red face as he let out those little sounds she had been so patiently waiting to hear from him.

"Ahhn, hahh-fuckin hell-" Tom groaned, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him. He whimpered a bit when (y/n)'s hand slightly pushed him into 'too much' territory and he shakily grabbed her wrist that was slick with his cum. "Fuck." he sighed, his body slumping in his desk chair as (y/n) sat triumphantly on his lap, giggling away while he caught his breath.

When his vision finally cleared and he caught his breath, he saw his all too proud of herself girlfriend grinning at him, cum soaking her shirt and her hand covered in it as well, his softened cock just inches away from her hand.

"I hate you," Tom grumbled, his eyes fluttering closed when (y/n) laughed and pecked his lips.

"No you don't~ also i knew you'd sound adorable whimpering, wanna do it for me again?"

...

"Yeah,"

-end-

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #smut fic #pictures included #well one picture included lol #you dont know how long i spent looking for a picture that actually suited how i think Tom's body looks #we all know he's gotta twink body dont deny it #he skinny~#lanky #but he can have some muscle definition #as a gift #besides this tecincally is Tom the 3rd and not Tom jr aka voldemort #Tom the 3rd can be more built than his dad lol #half text message fic half smut fic half normal fic #anyways enjoy~#i had too much fun #emoji's included

224 notes · View notes

raphael-angele · 3 months

Text

Exotic Pets I think PJO Characters would own

Disclaimer: This post does not encourage the purchase or distribution of exotic/endangered animals to be kept in captivity. This is completely for entertainment purposes

Percy owns a Blue Mosaic Axolotl and he named it Mandy. This is because he originally thought she was a salamander. When he took it home and showed it to Annabeth, she corrected him but the name already stuck.

Annabeth has a Canary Barn Owl named Cato. She does not own this owl per se. Cato was flying near their apartment when Annabeth decided to leave some food out for him. Since then, Cato has been keeping an eye on her and following her around from the apartment to her college campus to the grocery store.

Grover has a Kinkajou he named Jumper. Again, he does not particularly own him. Jumper just happened to jump onto his shoulder while he was taking a hike through the woods one night. Jumper was hungry so Grover gave him some food. Every now and then, Grover would go back and feed him.

Nico (besides Cerby) owns two melanistic foxes named Aspen and Amber. No one knows the true origin of these foxes, all the campers know is that they just showed up out of no where and follow Nico around. Despite what they think, Aspen and Amber are actually very friendly and they only get defensive if you intend to harm Nico (besides Percy. They hate Percy for some reason).

Jason has a Racoon Dog named Jojo. Jason found Jojo while he was out for a walk. It was raining and it looked like Jojo was injured. Thankfully, they weren't that far from camp so he took him back and gave him a warm bath and treated him. Once Jojo was fully healed, Jason tried to release him back out there but he wouldn't leave

Piper has Anna's Hummingbirds. She built a bird house one time with Leo and hung it outside of the cabin. Next thing she knows, hummingbirds are inhabiting it. Two paticular hummingbirds she sees are two Anna's hummingbirds she named Luna and Aurelia.

Reyna (besides her two dogs) has a Serval Cat she named Aenea. Reyna does not own her but she goes to feed her every now and then and lets her take shelter during storms or when she wants

Bianca has an Unkindness of Ravens. Not one, not two, an Unkindness. EDIT: She was on a quest with the hunters one time and the ravens warned her about where they were going, where they should go, etc. The ravens got attached to her, being the daughter of the dead. And she eventually got used to it, but some of the hunters still get jumpscares when they wake up and see Bianca being surrounded by dozens of ravens. Two Ravens in particular, she named Argus and Sergio. These two are in charge of looking after Nico. Yes, she can speak to them; Yes, they are also messenger birds.

Thalia has a Sugar Glider named Jason. She found him on the shelf in her cabin looking for food. She was about to help him down when he flew to the drawer beside her bed. She took him to Annabeth to figure out what he is. She gave him some food after that and thought that he reminded him of Jason.

Hazel has a Chinchilla named Amy. Amy (short for Amethyst) looks like she's purple but really, she's a mix of grey and blue, which is why she looks purple. Amy was actually a gift from Frank.

Will, scarily enough, has an Edit 2: Sunbeam Snake he named Bowie. Again, no one knows where he came from, they just walked into the Apollo Cabin and freak out when they see the snake slithering around the cabin and they just go, "Oh, don't worry, that's just Bowie". Bowie only likes being held by the Apollo kids and Nico.

Leo has a Tarantula named Felix (Fix for short). Oddly enough, Leo was never scared of spiders, if anything, he loves them. The Athena Cabin always asks for his help to get rid of spiders. He found Fix crawling on his work table, almost getting killed when he interfered. He scooped him up and sent him back into the woods. The next day, he found him again on his table. He kept putting him back till he gave up and made a little space for him

#might reblog this and make more #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson #grover underwood #annabeth chase #reyna avila ramirez arellano #will solace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #thalia grace #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #greek mythology

86 notes · View notes

stylinsoncity · 4 months

Text

posting this long snippet from the time travel fic i've been writing.. might not make any sense out of context but oh well. i think i'll also post a penn park snippet too. just to confirm for you all that i'm alive and writing lol

“This isn’t Back to the Future, Lou. Everything that’s meant to happen has already happened. Nothing you say can really change that. But it’s bad form and technically violates witch law for us to, like…tell you next week’s winning lottery numbers or something.”

“But it’s not against the rules to bring me here?”

“No,” Harry says. “It’s not like you’ll be going out or interacting with anyone else. You’ll be staying with us.”

“Who’s us?”

Harry peeks at him. He hesitates for a while. “Um. Me…and my husband.”

Louis angles his body to face him. “Husband?”

Harry throws another skittish glance his way.

“So you’re actually…?” Louis wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. “When did you decide for sure you were…?”

“Gay?” Harry supplies. “Maybe it was when you kissed me.”

“You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back,” Harry says. “Enthusiastically.”

“Whatever. Is that genuinely when you knew? You started snogging boys exclusively from then on?”

“Well, I was snogging a girl just now before we left, as you saw. And a boy,” Harry says. “But yeah, I guess…not long after that party, I decided to stick to blokes. Or just…one, really.”

Louis nearly misses that last bit. “What?”

Harry turns the radio up. “That’s enough questions for now. And we’re almost home.”

Louis goes on staring at him for a bit longer, wondering if he’s understood correctly. Did Harry meet his husband at that party? Was it someone he met the following week? Was Louis that stupid to step aside and let whoever it was take his place? Apparently so.

The mood grows tenser from then on, mostly due to Louis’ adamant silence and sour mood, neither of which he can justify. Did he expect Harry to never marry? Did he expect Harry to marry him?

Louis snorts aloud and sees Harry sneak a look at him. He sinks further into his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and stares through the windscreen for the rest of the ride.

Within the next few minutes, the car slows and turns at the corner of a downward sloping drive. At the end of the drive, as Harry approaches, a garage door rises. Louis didn’t see Harry press any buttons but perhaps it’s automatic.

Then Louis sees him. Or himself. Or his older self. At first he doesn’t believe his eyes. He’s still expecting something dimension-shattering to occur when he’s face to face with a future version of himself. He expects to implode or for Future Louis to fade out of existence. None of that happens, but there’s no denying that the man standing at the door connecting the garage to the house is Louis, eleven years older.

“Trippy, isn’t it?” Harry says, as he cuts the engine. “Ready to meet your future?”

And well, Louis won’t say it aloud because he’d just sound like a dickhead, but his future is quite fit, so the answer is yes. He’s got an actual beard, as opposed to Louis’ vague facial hair. He seems more built and broad around his shoulders and torso. It’s hard to be sure when he’s backlit by the light flowing from the interior of Harry’s home, but even his hair seems shinier and softer. He’s wearing a dark grey knit jumper with the sleeves pushed to his elbows and Louis catches sight of several more tattoos, although he doesn’t get a good look at them before the Older Louis pulls his sleeves down.

Harry pushes his door open, so Louis does the same. And finally meets eyes with himself, unobstructed by the windscreen.

“Forgot how small I was,” Older Louis says and nothing more.

Louis wasn’t expecting to be best mates with his older self or anything, but perhaps they won’t be friends at all. “You’re not exactly Dwayne Johnson, mate.”

Harry snorts, pushing the car door closed. “Don’t start,” he says to Older Louis. He noticeably pats his stomach as he eases past him into the house. It registers as familiar or even flirty to Louis, which is odd but reassuring. At least in the future, in spite of Harry’s husband, they manage to retain their closeness. Harry’s husband must not love that, but clearly Older Louis can’t be arsed.

Louis hears a chorus of barks from further inside and moves more quickly and curiously, eager to see every aspect of Harry’s adult life.

“Shoes off,” Older Louis says to younger Louis at the door. He tacks on a smile. “If you’d be so polite.”

Louis narrows his eyes at him as he shoves his shoes off.

“Come on,” Older Louis says. “I’ll be your tour guide.”

“You don’t even live here,” Louis says.

Older Louis looks at him. “Right,” he says. “Harry just lets me kip here every night ‘cause I don’t have a home of my own.”

“Seriously?”

“The future is tough, mate,” Older Louis says gravely. But just as he turns away, there’s a nearly imperceptible wiggle of his lips that suggests he’d like to laugh.

Louis decides his older self is not to be taken seriously. He’ll get his facts from Harry. Speaking of whom, they find him when they enter the kitchen as he steps inside from the back garden.

“What happened to your dogs?” Louis asks.

“I let them out. Jasper is a senior and when he gets really excited, he wets himself,” Harry says. “And he’ll get really excited seeing two of you.”

“I gave him his meds,” Older Louis says. “Should be fine in a bit.”

“Thanks, babe,” Harry says. His gaze flickers suddenly to younger Louis like he forgot he was there. He clears his throat. “Um, do you want a beer? Or tea? Water?”

“Whatever you’re having,” Louis says.

“Do you like wine?” Harry asks. “I can’t remember if we drank wine at your age.”

“Never too early to start,” Older Louis says. “He’ll like the Malbec.”

“Malbec, it is,” Harry says and goes into a walk-in pantry where he ostensibly keeps the wine. Meanwhile, Older Louis gets three glasses from a cupboard above the sink. He’s really a bit too familiar with Harry’s home. Maybe he is here all the time. Maybe he really doesn’t have a home of his own. Compounded with his imminent death tomorrow, the future doesn’t seem all that bright for Louis. No matter how hot he is.

But his friendship with Harry is a lot to be grateful for. Louis watches Harry and his older self speaking quietly to each other as Harry fills each of the three glasses. He watches Harry laugh at whatever Older Louis says and slap his hand playfully against his chest.

Louis wonders again about Harry’s husband. He wants to ask where he is and when he gets home, but he also never wants him to come home. So long as he’s away, Louis can keep tricking himself into believing he doesn’t exist.

But then he spies the wedding ring on Harry’s finger as Harry hands him a glass of wine and he can’t stop himself from blurting, “Where is he?”

Harry’s brows crease. “Who?”

“Your husband,” Louis says, pointedly.

“Oh.” Harry chews his top lip for a moment. “Why don’t we get comfortable first? Come on.”

Then he takes Louis’ free hand and pulls him off towards the sunken living area. It hasn’t slipped his notice how posh the entire home is. The kitchen was a massive gleaming wonder of marble and bronze. There were five cars in the drive and the first room Louis passed upon entering the home was a gym. He didn’t get a good look at the exterior under the cover of night, but what he could see revealed an expansive upper floor and several outdoor decks.

The living area features two parallel velvet couches, a marble coffee table, and a large flat screen tv mounted above a two-way fireplace. Louis can’t quite tell what’s on the other side of the fireplace but it seems like a formal dining room.

“Your house is fucking amazing,” Louis says, plopping down in a plush leather armchair.

“Thanks,” Harry says, smiling. He sits on the couch across from Louis. “It’s the kind of house you grow into. That’s why we bought it.”

Louis nearly asks if that means Harry has kids, but he has a big greedy gulp of wine instead. He shrivels at the taste initially, finding it bitter and sharp. But then he has another sip and it’s not so much that he likes it, but that he finds it distracting.

Older Louis enters the room much to Louis’ disappointment and takes up the seat right beside Harry.

“I can still get you a beer,” Harry says randomly. “If you don’t like the wine.”

“No,” Louis says. “It’s fine.”

“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know,” Harry says. “I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable enough, Haz,” says Louis. “It’s just nice to see where you live in the future, and how well you’ve done for yourself. You deserve all this. The husband, too.”

Older Louis exhales a laugh. “Should I get a box of tissues?”

“Shut up,” Harry says.

“Tell him to shut up,” Older Louis says. “This is embarrassing.”

“If you’re so embarrassed, just leave,” Louis says. “I don’t even get why you’re still here.”

Older Louis groans suddenly and loudly, pressing his fingertips into his eyelids. “There’s no way you’re this daft. No fucking way.”

“Louis,” Harry says. “Please.”

57 notes · View notes

ctimenefic · 2 months

Text

don't like a gold rush

sometimes you watch a video of James Vowles calling Alex special and your mind goes blank and three weeks later you have 6k

everlasting thanks to @latecomersprivilege for cheerleading, proofreading, and encouraging my crimes

don't like a gold rush Rated Explicit Fandom F1 RPF Pairing Alexander Albon/George Russell 5,951 words In which Alex having a good boss for once drives George absolutely mad.

First part below:

James Vowles is the best thing that could have happened for Williams. Well, the best in 2023, second overall - second to signing Alex. George truly believes that, has said it often, loudly, to anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby with a microphone. Even as the spectre of getting caught in the Albon DRS train gets ever closer, even as the W14 lets him down at every turn, he’s still got a massive soft spot for his old team. He wants the best for them. He wants the best for Alex.

And James as a boss is everything Horner wasn’t, as far as George can tell. Even-tempered. Even-handed. Kind. George has been in the Mercedes orbit long enough to see that. James wasn’t the type to talk down to a fourteen-year-old touring a garage with eyes like saucers. Instead he offered a steadiness even Toto couldn’t match. His good opinion had been worth having, and George had fought to get it.

He likes James, for Christsakes.

So, it’s something of a surprise to find himself grinding his teeth as Alex gets second-beer tipsy and starts waxing poetic about what a difference he’s made to the team.

They’ve got a small table at the back of a footie pub in London, where not a single regular is under 60 and clearly no one gives two shits about Formula One. It’s not built for tall men; their knees jam up against each other. George is slightly too warm in his jumper and coat, prickles of heat across the back of his shoulders. And his molars ache as Alex keeps going on about bloody James Vowles.

“Some of it’s the car, obviously, and the calendar,” Alex is saying, too media-trained to not add context and caveats in any declaration, “but James is just- like, no offence to Jost, but- he gets it. It’s like we’re all going in the same direction. Points aren’t a fucking miracle anymore, it’s expected, but not in a bad way, you know?”

“Don’t rule out the driver,” George adds, because he’s pathetic, really, weak for the indulgent eyeroll and grin Alex throws him to hide the genuine pleased flush of a compliment. And, because, well. It can’t all be James.

He’s not blind to the fact Alex has dragged Williams higher than he ever managed. And yes, it’s a different car, a different set up, but Alex is fucking quick, and it’s about time someone else noticed.

“No, but really, it’s- Look, I’m not saying it’s perfect, I’m sure Logan has something to say about his contract renewal, but I’ve never had a boss who takes care of the team like he does. It’s nice,” Alex finishes, with that half-shrug he adopts to couch his opinions in nonchalance. George knows him too well to fall for it.

Something hot and slick and sour coats the inside of his chest cavity, roiling up from his belly. He necks the rest of his pint before it can escape over his tongue. “He takes care of you?” he manages, and it almost sounds normal, squeezed out of his throat like that, everything else trapped behind his teeth.

A glint comes into Alex’s eye. “I’m sure it’s not the full Toto Wolff experience-”

“Piss off.”

“-holidaying together, sharing a crossword, father-son fishing trips-”

“Piss off!”

“But, yeah. Logan more, obviously, he needs it more. But- you know after Silverstone, after you pointed out the shoulder thing, he had them look at the seat again? That kind of thing.”

Of course George remembers Silverstone. He’d joked about it, under the watchful eyes of the press and a Williams PR woman who knew him far too well, because Alex hated when George made a sincere fuss, but he could just about get away with taking the piss.

It’s good, he reminds himself, that James doesn’t want the car to shake his drivers to pieces. But that doesn’t stop the sudden blinding vision of James pressing a bandage against Alex’s skin.

George had done it, back in the summer, when Alex had tripped on their run and the jerk of the fall had reopened the scar from the seat. George had only had these stupid Superdrug plasters, all too small, so he’d had to line three up, carefully overlap them and smooth them down so they wouldn’t ruck up into a mess when Alex rolled his shoulders. Alex had said he was making too much of a fuss then as well, but he’d shivered as George ran a thumb around the edge of each plaster to check the seal.

It hadn’t been normal for George, obviously, having his best mate half-naked in his bathroom, the mirror too big for comfort, all of his face there to be seen as he touched Alex’s skin. But. But the thought of James doing the same makes George’s fingers tighten on his glass. And he knows, logically, that it didn’t happen; that Williams has a medic, that Alex has a trainer, that there’s half a dozen people on the team who take care of Alex. Who have that in their job descriptions.

He just- Christ. He wants it to be him.

“I’m glad, mate,” he lies. Swallows. Makes himself hold Alex’s gaze when he responds with his ducked-head smile. But he nudges the conversation on so he doesn’t have to keep lying, swaps the wildest rumours he can with Alex’s - Charles to Red Bull, Lewis to Ferrari, Fernando collecting a seat on every team like he’s filling out a Pokedex. The caustic burn lingers in the back of his throat, despite four pints and a packet of crisps. Read the rest on AO3

#galex #f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #featuring a george so jealous he can barely speak #and an alex who won't stop laughing #until...

52 notes · View notes

doomed-era · 2 months

Note

..gaffen and zeldas horses pre and post cal (including hylia brainworms)? names + personalities perhabs

hehe oh this might be long. because I . uh

drew all of them.

gaffen has five horses so. full slots in-game yea. non-"special" horses are sneaky, cheese, and epona! the giant horse is named pumpkin, and the white horse is named cloud, however he does not really consider cloud his horse. he also did the epona thing </3 i am taking a little artistic license with the horses because I want there to be different heights + builds for them uh yea. i used to be really into horses growing up so its my right. horse isle 2 babeeyyyy

sneaky -- mare, skewbald, 14.5 hh. I would say she's probably descended from horses that were already running wild around hyrule from before the calamity. I'd say her build is similar to that of an american mustang for that reason (short, very hardy. tho tbf I really dont think a lot of feral horses WOULDNT be like this. im just. messing around) she's gaffen's first horse, and his favorite one.

she's about seven years old now? gaffen caught her when she was fairly young and very soon after he left the great plateau so she took to him very well. shes very gentle and intelligent, generally speaking doesn't know what to do around monsters. gaffen had to train her to not shy around them because she is not a fan and is kind of a coward </3 she knows a bunch of tricks like shaking hands and standing up on her hind legs, retrieving objects, and other stuff. she's very treat-oriented and will listen to anyone who gives her food. this actually led to a yiga kidnapping? once? yeah the yiga tried to steal her oops. her name is sneaky bc gaffen had to sneak up on her to catch her. very creative

epona -- mare, flaxen chestnut, 13.9 hh, about six years old. also descended from already-feral horses, though she may have a little farm horse that got free in there. she's the second horse gaffen registered!

epona started just. following gaffen one day. this is presumably because she was bored and smelled food on him. she's a very bold horse, and not afraid of a fight. she also gets bored really easily, so gaffen has taught her several tricks as well. she really likes people, and is the most vocal of gaffen's horses. gaffen named her after a story he heard about chosen heroes naming their horses epona, as he didn't know the story when he found sneaky.

cheese-- stallion, 15hh blue roan. he's descended from horses used by the hyrulean military. he's got a very long, pretty mane and is very well-built, similar to an andalusian.

cheese was named after his coat color and markings. he's around seven, and is gaffen's fourth horse. gaffen thought he looked like mold but the stable owner he tried to register him at (it was tasseren) said he wouldnt let gaffen name a horse mold. so he settled on cheese. cheese is generally a very sweet horse who loves attacking monsters. he's kind of annoying around people he doesn't know and will nibble on your clothes. but! he is a great jumper and people have asked gaffen if they could breed cheese with their mares once or twice. his favorite treat is apple horse treats that some stables will sell

pumpkin -- 23 hh mare, technically this coloration I dont THINK exists irl but the closest is probably a liver chestnut. she has the build of a shire more or less, and her bloodline is believed to be the result of an abandoned breeding project in the gerudo highlands.

pumpkin is AGGRESSIVE. towards horses, people, what have you. the problem is she's very attached to gaffen and gaffen as far as hes concerned thinks pumpkin can do no wrong. she runs over things with no remorse. its not like she wants to she just doesnt care. gaffen thinks she was the matriarch of her old herd. she's a very proud horse and refuses to do tricks but she is very affectionate towards gaffen and generally listens to him. her favorite treat is endura carrots. she is the fourth horse gaffen has registered and is around fourteen years old.

cloud-- 14.2 hh white stallion, around nine years old. my god I did not want to make him white I wanted to make him a grey or ivory or perlino but nooo. canonical pink nose which means he's probably white ew ew ew. anyway he is based on an arabian horse, however I gave him feathering, he's kinda fuzzier than an arabian and he probably has a mane more like an andalusian. i love andalusians. but he descended from a special breed of horses called the hyrulean imperial breed! they're a hotblooded breed known for their intelligence and grace.

cloud is the last horse gaffen registered, probably because it was so frustrating to catch him. unfortunately toffa was a LITTLE bit more picky in this au lets say. and didnt just look for a white horse but something with the breed characteristics of a a hyrulean imperial. so gaffen ended up catching several horses either sired by cloud or part of his herd that were a similar color. cloud, uh, well he hates everyone. he is wild as they come, very difficult to train, even for someone who likes training horses and had quite a bit of experience like gaffen did at the time. this was only exacerbated by hylia having recently popped into gaffen's head and insisting he give the horse to widget and train him properly, which only made him more angry at the horse. gaffen just. didnt really treat him well. to him, that is not his horse. cloud is a big fan of apples but he also likes sugar cubes-- basically anything sweet.

ok pre-calamity horses now

chestnut-- 15 hh mahogany bay gelding, 15 at the time of the calamity.

chestnut is a horse that gaffen got from his parents when he was thirteen. it took him a bit to get used to riding but once he understood it and began to bond with chestnut he fell in love with horses. they're better than dogs, obviously. chestnut was basically the perfect companion-- he was trained very well for his job before gaffen got him and had a gentle disposition. chestnut, unlike gaffen, seemed to enjoy the company of just about everyone, and most stables gaffen went to complimented him on how well-kept and good-natured chestnut was. when the calamity hit gaffen ordered the boy under him who was responsible for the horses to set chestnut and the other horses free. it's unknown if the horse survived.

lily -- 14.2 hh white mare, around 5 years old at the time of the calamity. I DO NOT KNOW WHY WE CAME UP WITH THE SAME NAME </3 she is a hyrulean imperial

widget did not like lily at first, and lily did not like her. though she was trained to be ridden without complaint by the royal family specifically the horse had a way of being annoying without technically going outside of the rules she was trained to follow. though some stablehands suggested she take some time to learn better riding habits widget didn't really care to do it as she had made up her mind that she didn't like horses and didn't want to put any effort into learning how to bond with hers. eventually, with some help from gaffen the Horse Obsessed Freak, widget does learn to like and work with lily and they get along fairly well.

#anyways. enjoy me tracing over pictures of horses i found on google.#i have a lot of trouble with horse anatomy they are Awful #but tbh I need to practice them #golden blood on his hands #asks

20 notes · View notes

draco-dormiens · 2 years

Text

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Three

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: conversation has sexual themes towards the end, strong language, alcohol, the characters are 18 in this story fyi :)

wc: 3906

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! tags below:

@slyth3rin-princess @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach

Chapter Three - Christmas

Christmas Day Draco woke to another silent house. Through the curtains he saw snow hurtling down, a small heap pressed up against the window. As used to being alone as he was, your invitation had played on his mind ever since you left. If you asked because you felt sorry for him, then he'd rather you laugh in his face about how pathetic his life was instead. There was nothing Draco hated more than acts of sympathy, mostly because he was so sick of them. People would assume he needed comfort, or that he needed their company, but he had built himself a wall and he was perfectly happy staying alone within it. (Or so he had trained himself to believe, anyway)

He dressed himself and headed down the stairs, a Merry Christmas from the house elf along the way and stood by the tree to observe the gifts beneath it. His mother had left a note with his name on and several neatly wrapped gifts. He sat crossed legged on the floor and began reading his mother's note.

Merry Christmas, my dear. We hope you like your gifts. Wish you were here. Mother x

A smile crept across his face, putting the card down and ripping the first few open. It was the usual stuff, his favourite cologne, cauldron cakes, a knitted green jumper, new shoes, new suit, even a bottle of fire whiskey. He popped the cork out and sniffed the amber looking liquid, and suddenly a wave of memories came rushing back from his time at school, before all the madness and heartache. The first night he got drunk, he was almost sixteen, at the end of his fifth year. Himself, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson snuck out into the night to drink and smoke cigarettes. He got so plastered that him and Pansy ended up in his private dorm room and one thing led to another. Does he regret it? He didn't really know. But Pansy thought that it meant they were destined for each other and became even clinger than normal after that. He took a swig of it and exhaled after, tasting the bitter, sugary substance on his lips. He kept sipping away at it as he opened the rest, and then took himself, the whiskey, and a box of cauldron cakes to the one drawing room he liked. With a flick of his wand, the fire was lit, and he plopped himself down on the couch for a long day of nothingness. After nearly half the bottle of fire whiskey and a tray of cauldron cakes, he started wondering what you might be doing right now, and then cursed himself out loud for even thinking it.

Your Christmas morning was very different. Draco had crossed your thoughts when you woke, but your mother had soon taken your mind off it when she burst through the bedroom door in a Santa hat and a hot cup of tea. The morning went by like it usually did in your house, presents, your younger siblings arguing over what the other one got (they get the exact same thing), and then a slap-up Christmas dinner and midday nap for your father. Being a muggle, he was huge fan of muggle alcohol, and kept a rather stocked up stash when it was Christmas. He'd drunk three glasses of wine before 12:30 and passed out in his armchair with a paper crown on his head from a cracker. You loved Christmas. It was about family, friendship, and the act of giving. Hermione had sent some peppermint toads and a Christmas card from her family, and Luna had crafted you a beaded necklace with your initial dangling from it. They should have opened their home baked cookies you had gifted them by now. After resting your stomachs for a while, you helped your mother wash the dishes as the rest of the house slept peacefully, a muggle Christmas movie going unwatched on the TV.

"So, how is that project of yours coming along?" your mother asks, "getting on with your partner?"

"He's fine," you tell her, drying off a dinner plate, "he's really stubborn and argumentative, likes everything his way and his way only, but apart from that he's okay. I think we're sort of friends at this point, but it's hard to tell with him."

"Oh my," your mother laughs, "he sounds like a treat. What's his name, again?"

"It's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

She froze for a moment, and you saw from the corner of your eye. She began scrubbing away again.

"I'm familiar," she tells you, looking across and smiling, "can't say I have that much of an opinion."

"I'm going to guess it's the same as everyone else's," you chuckle, "I'm not the biggest fan, but he seems to be mellowing a little since we started on the project."

"Maybe that's your influence," your mother nudges you, "you have that effect on people."

"Well, he complains at me a lot, so I doubt it. He's just one big mystery, I know nothing about him apart from that his parents leave him alone at Christmas."

"He's alone today?" your mother exclaims, passing you a soapy tray to dry, "that's awful. Did you invite him over?"

"I asked but I think I just made him feel awkward," you said, cringing at how shocked he looked, "we're only just getting on with one another."

You mother fell quiet for a second, and then left momentarily and returned with a wrapped present.

"Here," she says, handing it over to you with her yellow-gloved hand, "take this to him."

"What? I can't do that," you shake your head, looking at her like she'd just asked for your presents back, "we don't know each other well enough for me to just turn up at his doorstep, on Christmas."

"But he's alone, darling," you mother says softly, "and as a family, we never leave one out, even if they've made bad choices in the past. Go. Take them to him. It's only chocolates."

You sigh, knowing that it was a nice gesture. You wouldn't have to stay long, just take the chocolates, wish him well, and come home. It was an easy enough task.

"Fine," you say, taking the gift, "I'll be back soon. Thanks, mum."

Malfoy Manor looked as daunting as ever in the early evening dusk and white sheet of snow. It stood, grey and foreboding, with one light on in a top left window. You stood for a while contemplating whether this was a good idea, taking a few steps forward and then shuffling back.

"Just knock on the door, hand it over, and leave," you tell yourself, "It's just a nice gesture."

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the doors and knocked. After a few minutes, the tiny house elf appeared at your feet. He smiled brightly.

"Merry Christmas, miss Y/L/N," he said, "are you here to see Master Malfoy?"

"Well, actually, I suppose you could pass these-"

"Y/L/N?"

You look up from the elf to see Draco stood just behind, dressed in his green hoodie and sweatpants. His hair is little more tousled than normal, and he's holding an empty cauldron cake box.

"Draco," you say, "I was just dropping this off for you."

He pads over to you, and the elf moves out of his way, but not before he shoves the empty packet into the elf's tiny arms.

"You bought me a gift?" He says, taking the box from your hands and eyeing the wrapping paper.

"I just thought, as you're alone today, you might like to see a familiar face," you tell him as he unwraps the bow from around the box, "even if it's mine."

He removes the packaging to reveal a box of chocolates, and the ghost of a smile curls at the corner of his mouth. Of course, he had lots of girls give him presents in the past, lots of secret admirers and heart shaped gifts, especially at Christmas. But this was different, this was an act of kindness and selflessness, and it was for him. He didn't understand why, but you were here, and suddenly he didn't feel so alone anymore.

"Thanks," he said, looking up at you and smiling a bit more, "that was, uh, real nice of you. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," you shrug your shoulders, "I should probably get going. Merry Christmas, Draco."

"Wait," he calls, and you turn back to see him awkwardly stood in the doorway. That sounded far too eager, he thought, "do you want to come in for a bit? I can't offer you much, just tea. Think there's some cake somewhere. And we have these."

He held up the box of chocolates, and there was a hopeful glint in his eyes that you would say yes, although if you mentioned that he'd probably throw the box at you and slam the door in your face.

"Sure," you agree, thankful as the cold had started making your toes numb, "tea sounds great."

He took you inside and you walked through the now familiar corridors to the drawing room you first met him in, the fireplace roaring and empty boxes of cauldron cakes on the coffee table, along with an empty bottle of fire whiskey.

"Sorry about the mess," he says, quickly gathering up the rubbish, "I just sort of like cauldron cakes."

"Seems that way," you giggle, taking off your coat and basking in the heat of the fire, "is that all you've eaten today? And the whiskey, have you had any water?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked across at you warming yourself in front of the fire. The outfit you had on was nice, he thinks, but he physically shook his head to rid the thought. I need to slow down on the whiskey. You seemed so casual about asking him, like you were his mother or something, and it wasn't the first time you'd made him think of her, either.

"I uh, well, I haven't had time."

"Haven't had time?" you said, spinning to scold him directly, "Draco, just because it's Christmas doesn't mean you shouldn't eat properly. You need to eat some proper food."

He begins to grin, really grin, and it was strange but nice to see. It even made you smile back.

"What?"

"Have you come here to tell me off, Y/L/N?"

"No, of course I haven't," you defend yourself, going over to him and taking some of the rubbish from his hands, "and I don't tell you off, I inform."

He just keeps grinning, and you can't help thinking how nice his smile is. You look down at the empty whiskey bottle in your hand and contemplate knocking yourself out for a few hours.

"C'mon," he says, and you look back up at his smiling face, "I'll make us some tea."

Time seemed to go by so quickly from the minute you got there. You drank tea in his favourite drawing room whilst the fire burned away, played a game of chess, and after a glass or two of water, cracked open a bottle of wine and began drinking it. It was expensive wine, but Draco said that his mother had so much of it that it was almost a waste not to drink it. The entire time you were thinking about going home, but each time you thought about it the less you wanted to go. The wine was good, and surprisingly, so was the company. Draco was turning out to not be as tightly wound as you previously thought, especially with some wine in him.

"That is not how to you play this game," he slurs, glass half full in his hand, two almost empty wine bottles on the side. You giggle, and it's so infectious he can't help himself, and you know you've never been this drunk before, not even on your eighteenth birthday party.

"S-shut up," you hiccup through your laughter, trying to line the cue up with the ball on the pool table, "I know what I'm doing Malfoy, just w-watch."

You go to hit the ball and completely miss, breaking down into a fit of laughter, and so does he, and it's so refreshing to see someone who is always miserable laugh like that. He makes his way over to you, putting down the wine glass and taking your arms from behind.

"Look like this," he tries to show you how to hold it, chest pressed against your back but far too drunk to even care, "hold it like this, and then try."

He tries aiming you, but it fails miserably, and you both end up in another fit of laughter. You drop the cue, but Draco stays behind you, and your head falls back against his shoulder.

"You're so funny," you tell him, gasping for air as you did so. His laughter dies down, but you're still giggling to yourself.

"You think so?" he asks you, and you turn around, face an inch away from his and your cheeks are rosy and eyes hazy from the wine. You're pretty. He thinks you're pretty. Or does the wine think you're pretty? He didn't know right now. He was running on cauldron cakes, chocolates, whiskey, and wine. Oh, and some bread that you made him eat.

"Y-yeah," you hiccup again, "like, I find you really annoying but I kind of like it when you laugh. Is that weird? That's weird, right?"

"No," he shakes his head, feeling so dizzy he just might collapse, "I mean, I don't think it's weird? Is it weird that I think you're really pretty tonight?"

His words register slowly in your mind, and suddenly you feel a lot more sober, remembering you'd just said that you like it when he laughs.

"Woah," you chuckle breathlessly, pushing him away slightly for some space, "I think we've drank too much. My mum is going to murder me."

He starts to understand his words himself, and then repeating what you had said about his laugh, and his stomach does a small flip, and he thinks he might vomit.

"Yeah, way too much," he agrees, stepping away and leaning against the wall, "we should call it a night. Can you make it home?"

"Oh shit," you grumble, holding your stomach because of the nausea, "I cannot apparate like this, I'll be violently ill."

Draco runs a hand down his face. The room is practically spinning.

"You can stay in one of the spare rooms," he manages to get out, not without having to hold his head to stop the spiralling, "I have some clothes you can borrow."

You just nod, tired and drunk and in need of a toilet right now. You can explain to your mother tomorrow, when you're not wanting to throw up over a pool table that probably cost a million Galleons.

The room he gives to you is so neat and tidy you feel bad about using it, but it had a toilet to empty your guts into and water from the sink. After some serious glugs of water and a few moments over the toilet seat, you start to feel a bit better. Draco had disappeared for some time, doing the exact same thing, but he was standing over of his private bathroom sink after vomiting up everything he had digested that day. He looked across at the clock on the side. 1:30am. That's how long you had been there drinking with him. It had only felt like a few hours.

"Fuck," he mumbles to himself, looking up at his reflection. You'd only come to hand over a gift, and now you were being sick in his guest bathroom. He kept thinking about calling you pretty, and each time he feels like lurching again. How utterly embarrassing, he barely knows you.

"Merlin, I'm pathetic," he says to himself, pulling away from the sink and taking a few deep breaths. He heads towards your room and knocks on the door gently, and soon after it clicks open and you appear, looking much more yourself.

"Better?" he asks, and you just nod in relief.

"So much better," you sigh, "are you?"

"I'm just so hungry now," he says, and you laugh at his answer.

"Snacks?" you suggest, "I think I might need something to dry up the wine."

"Sounds good," he said, gesturing for you to follow him, "and I know the best place to eat them."

Draco's pantry is like a muggle supermarket. You tell him this, but it goes unappreciated. You both take an armful of biscuits, crackers, cheese, and Christmas cake, followed by a more sensible choice of pumpkin juice. He takes you to the very top floor of the house and into a room that you think is going to be the attic but ends up being like the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts. There's a giant window in the roof and all you can see is stars, moonlight shining in and casting a beautiful light across the room. It was breathtaking.

"I can't believe you have a place like this in your house," you say, putting down the snacks on the floor as Draco pulls out a huge blanket and lays it on the ground, "the best I have is my bedroom window."

"This is my favourite place," he admits, sitting down and patting the space beside him, which you take happily, "I come here a lot to think."

He screws open a pumpkin juice for you, and you take it with a thank you, as he begins opening all the snack packets and previewing each one as he did so. As he's munching and opening, you just stare up at the black sky with little white specs across it. It's all so far away, and you wonder who might be looking back at you and not knowing it. They might just think they're looking up at the stars, too.

"Thinking hard?" Draco asks, breaking your thoughts.

"I was just thinking how big the world is, you know?" you tell him, "Like, all those little specs in the sky are something, and we're just here. Looking up at them. A small piece in a big puzzle."

Draco looks across at you staring up at the sky, and even with less wine in his system, he thinks you're pretty when the moonlight hits your face, and that outfit is cute.

"That was deep," he says, and you look across at him with a glint in your eye.

"I like being philosophical," you said, "can't handle the truth of the universe, Malfoy?"

He laughs, and then takes a sip of his juice.

"You know, you're the last person I'd imagine bringing up here."

You scoff, but you're still smiling.

"Gee, thanks."

"That wasn't a jab," he chuckles, "I just meant that a week ago we hardly knew one another."

"I guess we don't know all that much now." You admit, looking back up at the ceiling. He peers across at you, and for a little while, he just looks. How much a week can change is truly unbelievable.

"What do you want to know?" he asks you, and he gains your attention once more.

"What do you mean?"

"About me," he elaborates, "what do you want to know about me?"

You stare back at him, but this time you really look at his features. His eyes are a grey, blue colour, and his hair is so unnaturally white he could have bleached it. His jaw was sharp, like his nose, but he was overall quite handsome. Minus his awful attitude sometimes, he was quite a catch.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" you find yourself asking him, and you aren't entirely sure why. Were you curious if the great Draco Malfoy has ever been in love, or were you asking because the wine was still very much in your bloodstream? Either way, he seemed to really think on it.

"No, I don't think so," he answers quietly, looking up at the stars, "I've been with a few girls, but not really had a girlfriend in my eighteen years, so I'd say no."

"Not even Pansy Parkinson?"

He laughs. A genuine belly laugh, and the sound makes your heart feel happy.

"Merlin, no," he says as he calms down, "she was a friend if anything, we hooked up once but that was it. I don't even see her anymore."

"You slept with Parkinson?"

"Yeah?" he says casually, "what? I'm not exactly proud of it. She was my first."

This time you belly laughed.

"Seriously?" you say, and he just nods as he sips his drink, and then wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

"Alright, now you know mine, who's yours?"

You fell quiet and began to play with the rim of your pumpkin juice bottle. Should you tell him? You weren't entirely sure you could trust him yet, but when you looked back at him, there was something that told you he wasn't going to blab it to the entire school.

"A muggle guy," you admit shyly, expecting him to scold you to the ends of the earth, but instead he just hums and drinks his juice.

"A muggle, huh?" he says, "was he, like, your boyfriend?"

You could tell he was uncomfortable asking you that because the label on the pumpkin juice bottle just became interesting to him.

"No, he wasn't my boyfriend. I have muggle friends who don't know anything about this world, and it was one of them. He was sweet. It was at my seventeenth."

Draco just nods.

"I was fifteen."

"Huh?" you almost spit out your drink, but Draco seems unphased.

"Well, I was almost sixteen. It was just before the summer of our fifth year."

You wipe your mouth on a nearby napkin.

"I don't know why I'm surprised, really," you said, "you do have a reputation."

"For being a dick?"

"Yep."

He just bites his lower lip, smiling as he did so. You caught him doing it, and your eyes fell to where his pearly whites sunk into the flesh of his lip. Was this guy attractive or were you still drunk?

"You've changed, though," you say quickly, and his eyes fall on yours again, "you're still an arse, but this last week I've seen you change. It's good."

Draco doesn't say anything for a moment, but he's looking at you and his eyes are dancing across your features and the moonlight is reflecting in them and if this was anyone else the situation would have been romantic.

"I don't want to be the person everyone thinks I am," he confesses to you, his eyes still locked on yours, "I don't want to be the person you think I am. The other day, when you threw that stupid drawing into the fire, that was the nicest shit anyone has ever done for me. Can you believe that?"

You just listen, absentmindedly leaning towards him as you do so. He continues.

"People don't know but I find socialising really tiring and awkward, especially if its genuine, and honestly I just want someone to hang out with. That's how sad I am."

"I don't think that's sad," you say softly, and his eyes are on yours and you're closer and he smells so good and you realise, that was no Amortentia, that's just how delicious Draco smells, "besides, we're buds now, right?"

He chuckles deeply, taking those grey eyes away and putting them back on the sky above you.

"Yeah, we're buds now," he agrees, looking down at you through the corner of his eyes, "and you're not bothered what your other friends might think."

"Why would I be?" you say, "you're not the devil, Draco. Anyway, I get to choose who I'm buds with."

"You're not half bad, you know that Y/L/N?"

You sit up a little straighter and look him up and down playfully.

"Neither are you, Malfoy. And call me Y/N, yeah?"

He smiles and forces some air through his nose.

"Y/N," he repeats, "alright then."

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

#draco malfoy #draco #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hpff

267 notes · View notes

mrsarnasdelicious · 6 months

Text

Puppy Boy - Animal Shelter Sihtric Long Fic

Ch 1 - This Fucking Kid

"Heya kiddo." Finan ruffles his young tennant's hair. Sihtric groans, almost spilling his milk. "I am not a kid, I am 21!" He yells. "You're a kid, kid." Finan chuckles, sitting opposite the young Dane. "How was yer day?" He asks. "A lot." Sihtric murmurs. "Oh?" Finan furrows his brow. "Kinda overstimulated right now." Sihtric replies.

Finan owns a construction company, he's well off and unattached. He lives his best life in a house he built himself and works from his home office. He's Irish and does everything his Catholic upbringing forbids.

Sihtric is all but a decate younger and rents Finan's attic. He works at the local animal shelter and could not be more different from Finan even if he tried. He's shy, peculiar and more often than not straight up bad with people. He gets along much better with the animals he takes care of. And he hasn't had a girlfriend since he was sixteen. He is not at all unattractive, though somewhat dorky and clumsy in the way he dresses. Even the glasses he wears are kind of cute.

"Need to leave ya alone for a while?" Finan asks. He knows how Sihtric is by now. Sihtric peers at his watch. The thing looks like he's had it since he was twelve. "When's Uhtred gona be here?" He asks. Finan throws a glance at the digital clock on the oven. "In half an hour or so." He replies. Sihtric groans softly and gets up. "I'll go take a shower and try to decompress a bit." He says. "Just be down by dinner. And it is okay if you go back up when it gets too crowded." Finan assures him.

Sihtric nods and heads upstairs to shower.

He let's the hot water run over him, pictures it washing him clean from all the stimuli of today. He takes Finan's body wash, liking the scent of it, much better than his own. He can't afford the luxurious products Finan has, but he knows Finan doesn't mind if he uses them from time to time.

Once's he's cleaned up, he allows his mind to wander.

At first, they don't go anywhere in particular, meandering to the pretty woman who adopted one of the bunnies today. Sihtric liked the look of her freckles and full, round breasts. His cock swiftly hardens and his hand wanders south. Groans tumble from his mouth as he strokes himself. His imagination runs wild, picturing warm, full breasts, leaking with milk. "Mama, please." He whimpers, tugging firmly on his cock. "G-gods." He sputters.

He cums quickly, painting the tiled wall of the shower generously with his seed.

He comes down for dinner, find Uhtred, Halig and Leofric already there.

"Hello boy." Uhtred purrs, eyeing Sihtric up and down. Sihtric flushes so brightly his glasses almost fog over. He knows Uhtred well, but never really gets used to the covetous way he's being looked at. Especially considering Uhtred has a wife and kids. "Heya nerd." Halig grins at Sihtric as the youth sits down. Sihtric smiles a small smile at him. Leofric just grunts at him. Leofric is in his 40s, he's got nothing in common with Sihtric. But it's fine, Sihtric does not mind.

Over dinner, Uhtred starts whinging about his employer and Leofric, who works for the same firm, assures Finan it is not that bad. Sihtric just sits by, shoving Finan's superior cooking into his face.

After dinner, the others pile in. Aethelwold, Edward, Aethelflaed and Erik, Haesten, Dagfin, Aldhelm and Aethelred, Eadith and Ragnar and Brida. Sihtric is pretty sure Finan wants to shack up with Eadith. The Irishman can barely keep his eyes off of her.

Sihtric joins in for a few round of whatever card game has been brought out, but quickly gets overstimulated, so retires to his bedroom. Only Aethelwold hassles him for it, but Sihtric doesn't care for that guy's opinion.

He puts his headphones on and listens to Valhalla Calling on repeat for half an hour at first.

He touches himself again after that, his jumper between his teeth, abs glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he strokes his thick, long cock. He doesn't really fantasize about anything. He just focusses on the feeling of fucking his fist. But of course he can't keep his mind on track. He wonders what it would feel to fuck a warm wet pussy, or a tight hot arse. To just slip into another person's body, feel their heat and pressure. "Oh Gods." He groans. He imagines what it would be like to drown in another person's scent. To press his face between two warm breasts or a firm chest and just inhale. He feels his climax building, his mind wandering further to suckling on hardened, sensitive nipples. To feel fingers rake through his hair and be praised.

It is the undoing of him. He spends himself all over his chest and abs.

It isn't that Sihtric is unattractive and he's had a few girlfriends in high school. He's kissed a boy in a club once. It was the only time he'd ever been to a club. And he made out with Uhtred when he got genuinely wine drunk. But all of that has been at least two years ago. He hasn't gone to a club in aaages. He hasn't made out with anyone in what feels like a decade, which it of course is not.

He's not a virgin, but the first time he's had sex, when he was seventeen, was uncomfortable and he just avoids it now. Not because he does not want to fuck. Gods he wants to fuck and be fucked in return. He has desire in spades. But he gets anxious when he thinks of the discomfort. He isn't even sure what the discomfort stemmed from, all he remembers from the entire ordeal was a fierce rash on his cock, but a clean STI test.

He doesn't have to work weekends. But still he spends all his time at the shelter. The animals never judge him for being odd. And the other people working the shelter got used to him being a bit a lot peculiar by now.

So eh heads out to the shelter saturday morning, after his morning work out. He works out twice a day, before work and before dinner. Working out makes his mind calm. He does the hard labour, bringing in heavy bags of kibble, cleaning the kennels and wrangling the big dogs. The weekend volunteers are very grateful that all they have to do now is feed the animals and socialise them.

After lunch he takes the dog for a run, each in turn. Running makes his head empty too. And the dogs love to get out of the kennel and show their best side. He does not draw too much attention, with his thick glasses and oversized hoodie. No one would suspect those hoodies hide rockhard abs and behind those glasses are mischievous eyes.

"Ah, Sihtric, there you are." One of the volunteers calls out, once he comes back from walking Tusker, a young staffie husky mix.

Sihtric quickly puts Tusker back into his kennel and goes up to the volunteer. "What's up?" He asks gently. The volunteer gestures him to follow into the office. Sihtric obliged, following to the elder lady in charge for today. "What can I do, ma'am?" He asks politely. "I need you to take Pretty to the vet, that hairball has been bothering her long enough now." The elder woman says. "Yes ma'am. I'll grab a carrier." Sihtric says diligently. "No need to, we already have her ready to go." The volunteer mixes in.

So he is brought Pretty, in her carried. "Thanks." He mumbles. Pretty hisses, she is uncomfortable. "Yeah yeah, I know." Sihtric cooes soothingly. He takes the carrier to his beat up old ford. Carefully he secures Pretty on the passenger chair and drives to the vet office in town.

You hear the front door bell chime. A walk in!

"Be right with you!" You cry out, making sure the file you were working on is saved. You get up from your desk and head into the waiting room.

You stand eye to eye with possibly the cutest boy you have ever seen. Holding a crate with the angriest cat you have ever heard. "Hi, who's this?" You ask. crouching before the crate. You peer into the crate, facing a moody calico persian. She hisses at you and you cast your eyes up at her person, waiting for an answer. You gaze up into dual coloured eyes, through glasses that magnify his long lashes. He looks so innocent it almost breaks your heart.

"What's her name?" You ask sweetly.

The youth swallows thickly. "P-pre- .. Pretty." He stammers. "And what is going on with Pretty?" You get back up and smile up at the young man. Fluster dusts his cheeks. "She .. she has a hairball stuck in her tract." He stutters. "Oh goodness, that is why she is so crabby, huh?" You cooe. "No... no, she is always like this." The youth shakes his head.

"How about we start with some paperwork, I'll get Pretty comfortable while you fill it out.¨ You cooe. "Yeah.. s-sure." He nods, extending you Pretty's crate. You take the crate and smile sweetly at him. "Come, follow me." You lead him to the treatment room. He eagerly follows after you.

You pull out some papers, handing them to the young man, while you put the crate on the sterilised table.

"Come here, pretty Pretty." You cooe. The persian hisses. "Alright, you take some bribery, I see." You chuckle. You grab a tube of chicken paste from a drawer and open it, holding it for Pretty to smell. Pretty cranes her neck and takes a little taste. "Good Gal." You cooe, slowly pulling your hand back. Pretty follows along to keep licking the chicken paste.

Sihtric feels his ears burn when he hears you praise Pretty. It unlocks something inside him and his jeans tent. He swears under his breath. This is not a bodily reaction he needs right now. He does his best to will his boner down, but you again praise Pretty for being so cooperative in exchange for yummy snacks. His cock throbs eagerly and he pulls his hoody over his crotch.

"I .. erm..." He has no idea what to say anymore, handing you the paperwork. He pointedly avoids looking you in the eye. "Thanks." You cooe, quickly reading through the form. "Sihtric Kjartansen?" You ask, to verify his name. "Yeah, I work for the local shelter." He replies. "So, Pretty is a shelter cat?" You ask. Sihtric nods. "Y-yeah." He stammers. "Why hasn't she been adopted yet?" You asked. "Cuz she is a bitch to everyone." Sihtric replies. You can't help a soft giggle.

"Now what is going on with Pretty?" You. "Hairball, won't pass. We have tried everything." Sihtric replies. He finds that it is easier to talk when he talks about the animals. Though he can't look you in the eye. "Are you giving her baths?" You ask. "N-no.." Sihtric stammers.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #tlk #the last kingdom #arnas fedaravicius #au: animal shelter #vet!reader #construction firm owner!Finan

19 notes · View notes

dameronology · 2 years

Text

stranger things characters + autumn

because i am a slut for autumn, ok? it is the best time of year

eddie munson

one word: halloween

eddie lives for spooky shit all year round but it's even better when everyone else is embracing it too

when the annual hawkins halloween shop opens in september he's always the first one in the queue and you can bet he's dragging you with him

he'll act like he hates couple costumes but he's actually so down for them

when early october comes and the temperatures start to drop, the trailer becomes freezing which means surviving solely on blankets and shared body heat

it's during these times that eddie's bedroom becomes something of a permanent pillow fort

he has loads of lamps as well and he loves to turn the lights off and just lay in bed with you and warm tones of the smaller ones

he also permanently forgets to bring a jacket so he never shuts up about how cold he is

that means he will, nine times out of ten, wrap himself around you every time you go outside

if you put leaves in his hair he will cry but it's very funny

he also refuses to wear a hat because he thinks it makes his hair look - and i quote - "too poofy"

dustin's mum knitted him one though and he feels bad not wearing it

he has loads of chunky jumpers and his favourite thing is coming back late from d&d games or band rehearsals to find you passed out in the pillow fort wearing one

steve harrington

steve lives for summer and he refers to autumn as "the funeral for his vacation"

only because every summer he swears he's going to do something cool and then he just works and babysits and the impending cold of fall is just a reminder of that

is he complaining though?? only outwardly. like he'd ever spend his summer any other way

steve is a mum, as we are all aware, so you better bring a jacket or he will give you a lecture about it

he keeps a spare in his car just in case

which means you sometimes forget to bring one on purpose just so you can wear his (the lecture is worth it, okay?)

his parents might have been shit but they did pay for a car with heating and you will be forever grateful

his house as well!! it has heated floors in the kitchens and bathrooms which means you basically never leave during the autumn and winter months

steve is enthusiastic about halloween but he's more excitable about all the other cringe autumn stuff; crunchy leaves, hot chocolate, pumpkin patches

he's also head organiser of the matching costumes for him and the kids and he will 100% try and drag you into it

it's also his favourite time of year to crack out the polaroid camera because everything is so pretty in hawkins after september

he has one in his wallet of you and dustin making snow angels in the leaves

robin buckley

fall is low key a stressful time for her because the transition of relaxing all summer to going back to school/college is always a kicker for her

she relies on you during that period for comfort - she's never demanding, but she does like to know you're there and she might become impossibly clingier

and she's so distracted by her school work that you can wrestle her into whatever halloween costume you so desire

when she does eventually relax, robin loves the cooler weather

like ninety percent of her wardrobe is knitted jumpers and thick jeans so really she was built for it

she's also perpetually warm!! which means snuggling up next to her on the sofa and in bed is everything

she likes going on walks in the evenings to wind down after doing all her work - if it's quiet, she'll hold your hand or throw an arm around you

her mum has this swing out on the porch and robin loves sitting with you, legs laid over your laps whilst you both drink hot chocolate

#stranger things headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson headcanons #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harringon #steve harrington reader insert #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley imagines #robin buckley #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things reader insert #stranger things

247 notes · View notes

ff7-has-taken-me-over · 1 year

Note

Okay take two because I think tumblr didn’t let me submit this unfortunately but I won’t stop talking about baby girl soap!(Thank you for answering all my asks I get excited to bond over my interest with people and I love always seeing your writing <3)So let’s say prices goes on leave for a couple of days (man's need a vacation from dealing with everyone’s shit) and gaz just gets even more menacing when price leaves. Him and soap do bets and dare more than ever since price and gone even with ghosts tells them to stop (gaz see’s that as a challenge and plans to make the 2 weeks that price is gone living hell for the simps) . So he gets to work and dares soap to wear a ghost's hoodie for the day (ghost definitely ran to get soap, a hoodie he would forever deny that tho) and he literally loses it when he sees soap in his hoodie. The other beg soap to wear their clothes he does and quite often to the point it’s a regular thing and they lose it gaz takes it a step further to get the best blackmail he makes soap wear shorts, thigh highs with a matching collar that broke the dam so people try to flirt with soap they are immediately met with the most threatening stare from like 4 different guys.

Firstly) I fuckin love baby girl Soap. God damn is it good.

Secondly) Thank you so much!! I actually love responding to asks and people’s prompts, it’s so much fun. So I’m glad you’ve been submitting them 😁

Thirdly) I realised I’ve been writing these with the sort of idea of Soap getting with everyone (just Ghost being like the first or main) and I haven’t been tagging everyone else! Guys, I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it when I get the chance.

But onwards!! So I can imagine Soap actually trying to steal Ghost’s hoodie at first because he’s more than fairly sure the man won’t let him borrow it for the bet he just lost with Gaz.

Ghost catches him obviously and Soap very nearly loses his fingers for it but when he says he has to wear it because he lost a bet Ghost nearly carks it. Man’s freezes and stares and imagines the sergeant in every piece of clothing he owns and fuck… he’s gonna give it to him.

So there Soap goes, walking around base with Ghost’s hoodie for the day with said man following close behind. Soap’s pretty built, no doubt about it, but Ghost is even more so. So the hoodie sits a little loose on the younger, sleeves slipping past his palms and hem sitting just below his ass, it’s a sight that’s for sure.

When the rest of 141 see it they immediately try and ask him to wear their clothes. I reckon Rudy would try getting the man to wear his track pants because he likes wearing them a little tight whereas Soap wears ‘em loose, so the pants are just a bit of a squeeze for the man with an ass but he manages.

Alejandro likes getting him to wear his turtlenecks because while he’s taller than Soap the other is just a little wider than him. So Johnny fills them out really nicely but the sleeves and hem sag a little at the ends of his torso and arms and it’s really fuckin cute.

König I reckon gave Soap a hoodie once (because one look at the rest of his wardrobe and they were immediately out of the question) and the shorter was absolutely swimming in it. It was beyond adorable and everyone found themselves hard pressed to be jealous or disappointed when Soap was peeking out from under that hood with the brightest smile and sweater paws.

Johnny - poor, oblivious, adorable Johnny - has no idea why everyone is suddenly giving him clothes to wear and why half his wardrobe has now been replaced. He’s not really complaining because he finds it comforting to have things of his teammates with him. Likes the comfort of sleeping in König’s jumper when he’s going to sleep, and the way Rudy’s track pants and Alejandro’s turtle neck show off his hard earned muscles. He also loves curling up in Ghost’s hoodie when he’s had a rough day because it smells like him and it’s comfortable.

Now that Gaz knows Soap barely owns any of his own clothes he ramps it up a notch, positively ecstatic to send his captain this next batch of blackmail material because it’s absolutely glorious and he feels as if his captain might be getting a tad bit bored while on his leave. So he gets these footy shorts he saw while in Australia one time - they’re short, black and silky feeling - along with some thigh highs and a collar and a slew of other things.

Soap fuckin hates him for it but he’s a man of his word and he’ll be damned if he lets Gaz hold that over his head (never mind all the embarrassing outfits and humiliating scenarios he gets in)

So next time Soap walks into the mess hall, blushing a deep af red but holding his head high regardless, he very nearly causes some severe accidents. The bet this time was the footy shorts and Ghost’s hoodie, which means there’s only a strip of black showing at the edge of the jumper before it’s just pale legs and bare feet (cause Gaz is a shit and stole his shoes)

The 141 are in varying states of horny silence and utter shock while the rest of the base are in all sorts of disarray. Some guys are already making fun of him, pointing and laughing, while others are in the same boat as the 141. Soap’s a looker, it’s hard not to be attracted to him.

Then the thigh highs and matching collar come out and it’s too fuckin much. Rudy’s praying for strength, Alejandro is trying so very fucking hard to speak English but his brain has left the chat. König could very well be passed out on the table at the moment - nobody knows - and Ghost is about two seconds away from slinging the man over his shoulder and making an escape with him.

The 141 are quick to snap out of it when some rookie - a new guy from the latest squadron on base - goes up to Soap and starts flirting like his life depends on it. Now it wouldn’t be too bad if Soap was his usual oblivious self and just returned it with a smile and friendly nod, but he doesn’t.

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish - maybe for the first time in his entire life - catches onto the flirting and returns it. He blushes and plays coy, hiding the bottom of his face behind the collar of Alejandro’s turtle neck as he laughs at whatever the fuck the rookie is saying and it’s enough to send the whole squad into a murderous rage.

Ghost is the first to move, hand already pulling a knife out as his eyes stay zoned on the asshole that’s got his hands on Soap. Rudy and Alejandro aren’t far behind cursing up a storm in Spanish as König lumbers after them.

Ghost uses his bulk to get between them, Rudy and Alejandro blocking Soap from the rest of the base’s eyes as the former takes off his jacket and hangs it on Soap’s shoulders. König uses his height and bulk to pick Soap up and hide him from view before leaving with him. It’s such an obvious claim and blatant ‘don’t touch what’s ours’ that the rest of the base quickly learn to avert their eyes whenever Soap enters a room dressed in anything less than military gear.

Gaz feels as if he should feel bad for what he’s done but honestly? It’s too funny. Plus, Price left him a very detailed message on what he would do to the guys if he came back and he was one military personnel short because of Gaz’s stupid bets and dares.

69 notes · View notes

x-authorship-x · 10 months

Note

Hello! Thank you for making the best known fics about Shisui! Reading your tidbits of amusing author notes and writings about him are both appreciated, since shisui-centric fics are really hard to find. I'm thinking of making fanart, but what does your Shisui look like in Until Dawn Breaks? I don't want my interpretation to be wrong, but also want to see how you, as the creator, envisioned him. Also hope you have a good day~

Thank you! 🥰

(You know I just don't learn to save my rants and then boom! They get eaten by Tumblr and I have a trantrum and you guys end up with an unhinged answer instead of the lovely first draft 🤣)

ANYWAY 🙃

Thank you, Anon! This was absolutely lovely to hear(read?) After a long Monday and I'm really happy you're enjoying my fics!

For someone who's been described as overly wordy, my descriptions are - ironically - not usually that helpful but I'll try. I'll also try not to get too carried away but, well, this is draft answer number two so it's already going to be unhinged

SHISUI HIMSELF:

Hot. He's just really hot okay. He's not perfect but he's one of those people who are just effortlessly, really naturally beautiful? Distressingly attractive. If Itachi takes after his mother and looks like a painting of a cresent moon brought to life, Shisui is the Sun. THE SUN

Dimples. One in each cheek, so deep that they're visible when he talks. They hurt my feelings.

He's got a cool undertone in his skin and he's golden in the sun. Shisui IS the sun. This is a very important theme ok lmao

He has a good nose (not a button, not too sharp, not one of those straight line cop-outs, we don't fear noses here), squarer but sharp jawline, flatter thick brows, high cheekbones. Sculpted but very much like "that is one nice guy" than "inhuman statue"

His eyes are as dark as you can naturally get and his hair is the same, no blue tints or anything. Shorter cut on the sides (if he caught a curl in his headband...rip) with angel curls on top (please don't give him a footballers undercut tho 🤣 he doesn't deserve that punishment).

The biggest most beautiful liquid eyes. You know how some guys have the most unfair lashes and you just seethe in resentment? Shisui cripples egos on the daily without realising.

He gets those little 'eye whiskers'/crows feet around his eyes when he grins really hard. Are you getting the picture that he's devastating. I think he deserves this after the shitshow of canon tbh.

He's 6ft. (There's a reason I cba for now)

More built than you'd think for "fast as fuck". He's built like a sprinter, so "characterized by a muscular build with a high percentage of fast-twitch muscle fibers, allowing for explosive power, speed, and quick reaction times." Think a bit slighter than Usain Bolt.

As of NoT, Shisui wears his mother's Uzushio earrings 24/7. Single lobe piercing, an engraved silver bell hangs from each silver hoop.

As of UDB, Shisui has white sealwork around his eyes. Think:

OUTFITS

JOUNIN UNIFORM: (as of UDB) black ANBU pants and sandals, high neck black shirt (varying sleeve lengths), very dark purple waistcoat-jacket with a mandarin collar that has a black crow embroidered in mid-flight in each corner (he doesn't wear this in summer). Headband on forehead, bandages around his calves and one thigh, over which he has his supply kit. Tantō holster across his shoulders.

CASUAL: black ANBU pants and sandals, Uchiha tee shirt, tantō holster.

UDB MISSION: there's some variation (he starts off with the crow vest on and then seals it away at some point lmao idk I can't remember) but generally.... the same base as his Jounin Uniform but with black boots and a thicker jumper, bandages around his thigh under his skirt and also binding his feet and hands (Rock Lee hands). He wears a dark navy scarf with small back tassels around the edges wrapped around his head, shoulders and lower face (only eyes visible), and a skirt.

The skirt is from below his bellybutton to halfway down his calves and it falls straight, a dark navy with a slight tapestry pattern in thick fabric, common for northern regions. There are slits up both sides for movement and his second and third tantō are accessible through the pockets where they're strapped to his thighs.

He carries a brown crossbody satchel for appearances but has most of his kit in the supply pouch on the small of his back. His sealwork is covered in cobalt makeup paste that he smears across his eyelids and the bridge of his nose. Think this colour-

- but a total mess lmao.

Hopefully I covered most of this but it's off the top of my head so do ask if you want more/etc etc! Happy drawing, Anon ✨

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #shisui #character reference #shisui outfit #shisui reference #hope au #not #udb #no tomorrow #until dawn breaks

14 notes · View notes

dykefever · 2 years

Note

hiya hiya hiyaaaa oh goshhh richard siken AND your writing literally what else is there to ask for ill say 16 or 9 in case someone happened to beat me to either<33

hi hi hi my love, 9 is making me go crazy and you know what. i'm going to make it nice we get a nice one!!!!

9. you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.

Sirius is thirteen years old and still made of the soft warm flesh of childhood. He has a scar on his chin from his mother and his knuckles raised waiting, waiting for the fist. He doesn't feel very much like a child anymore.

Second year, a winter day made of aching white snowflakes and sharp wind. They - the four boys wearing oxblood red and cliff-drop smiles - rush through halls built from stone, laughing, laughing, late for their afternoon lessons.

"We should just skip the rest of our lessons!" he gasps out, running after the golden brown frizz of curls ahead of him. Out of the corner of his eye James's cheeks are flushed dark. He wears a grin so wide it knocks the wind out of Sirius's chest. He's so giddy and loose, fizzing with feeling.

Remus slows his steps and tilts his head towards Sirius. Sirius shuffles to Remus's side and brushes their arms together so he can prolong the fizzing feeling. It sparks sweet and toothy in his gut when Remus is near.

Remus says, "We can't skip our lessons. We'll get detention."

"What's a detention to us?" James boasts, throwing his arms out and spinning around.

"Remus did miss lessons last week," Peter points out, scarf trailing behind him, barely hanging on to his neck.

Sirius swings to face Remus, walking backwards. "What do you want to do?" he asks.

Remus scrunches his mouth to the side like he does when he's thinking. Sirius gets breathless and shuffles even closer to Remus, tilting his chin up, smiling with his hair falling into his eyes. Remus - taller than him by several inches after the summer - ducks his chin and narrows his eyes.

"I think we should go to class," he offers, rolling his eyes at James's loud groan, "and then sneak out tonight."

They cheer and Remus laughs and Sirius is still walking backwards. He clutches the front of Remus's jumper for balance and syncs their steps. So close he catches Remus's sweet cinnamon and biscuit scent and he wishes it was okay for friends to sniff friends, to bury noses in necks right at the hairline and smell. Because Remus smells good and Sirius really likes it and he always wants to be closer to him.

They reach the door for their lesson and Peter and James tumble inside. Sirius still holds Remus's jumper. They end up very close, toe to toe with Sirius's hand between them. Remus exhales and it knocks warm against Sirius's cheek.

He licks his lips and looks up at Remus, fizzing.

Remus grins, crooked, scar running through his top lip. Sirius keeps looking at the faded indent it makes over his pink lips.

Then, then, Remus tilts forward, knocks his temple against Sirius's own, and pulls away to walk into the classroom and - and - Sirius feels -

This wide, gaping thing opens up from his neck to his gut and his heart beats too fast. He presses a hand to his stomach and stares at the slump of Remus's shoulders through the open door, the flattened patch of hair from sleeping on folded arms at lunch.

His temple is still warm from Remus's own.

siken prompts

#laura writes #drabbles #writing prompt game #layla tag #sirius trying to make platonic sniffing of friends a thing so true bestie #i loooveeee completely infatuated baby sirius what a loser! (remus is just as bad tho if we're real :-/)

39 notes · View notes

her-devils-advocate · 11 months

Text

Touch the darkness within me.

♥. Genre: angst / hurt and comfort

♥. pairings: Nate Sewell / Female Detective (Named)

♥. content warnings: Mentions of a suicide attempt and depression, implied past abuse

♥. notes: I have been wanting to explore Valerie's background, especially with her opening up to Nate. It's been a while since I wrote angst to this degree, so I'm a bit rusty!

♥. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48536515

♥. Word count: 4,489

Her concealed wails are a mournful sirensong, twisting itself around every other sound until he is caught in its sorrowful grasp. The haunting tones guide him towards where he finds Valerie in the dead of night, sitting alone outside the warehouse.

She's staring out at the forest surrounding them, jade eyes sparkling in the moonlight shining down on her. The silver beams highlight the red rims of her eyes as more tears paint her cheeks. Her sniffles are muffled by a shaking hand as she bites down on the soft sleeve of her jumper, whimpering as more tears well up in her eyes, replacing the ones that had just fallen.

Yet no matter how much she tries to silence her pain, he would always be able to hear it as if those cries came from his mouth instead. Some nights he wishes that they did, just so she could get some relief from the shadows that continue to haunt her.

He goes to embrace her, pulling her so close that their hearts beat as one. Her’s a frantic pounding contrasting the gentle fluttering of his own. He weaves his fingers through her onyx hair as he tries to help soothe the raging storm within her. He doesn't ask, knowing she will tell him when ready. Knowing that at this moment, she is too fragile to open her mouth and have anything but cries tumble out.

The uncommon sight before him is a stark contrast to the woman she was during the gentle light of day. The strong yet warm Detective Michaelis, always smiling and laughing when not focused on a tough case.

“Shh, it’s alright,” He does his best to calm the waves threatening to drag her asunder, he is her beacon of light, piercing through the fog clouding her heart. “I’ve got you, it's ok.”

With those simple words, all the emotions and thoughts she had once locked away now come rushing free. The walls that had been erected throughout her childhood -walls solely to keep that pain hidden behind- had slowly begun to decay, allowing the avalanche that she is now buried under, struggling desperately for air.

As his touch slowly unravels her, she looks deep within her frightened heart. Was it worth it? To slowly learn to trust again, to love again when it resulted in forcing herself to face the problems that made her scared to do so in the first place?

As she feels Nate pressed up close to her, draping his incredibly soft leather jacket across her frozen shoulders, mumbling sweet nothings to help soothe her aching heart, she finds her answer: Yes.

He is her rock, always holding her when she falls, patiently waiting alongside her until she is able to stand. He never forces her to rise before she is ready but is always there to help raise her back up once she is.

Yet she feels like she is nothing more than a rock tied to him. Dragging him down every night she awakens with screams, disrupting him from his own reverie within the blanket of nightfall.

The thick guilt that swirls within her each time she bruises his gentle heart whenever she reveals just how bandaged her own is when it comes to her relationship with Rebecca, a complex relationship filled with love built upon years of solitude.

A girl just wanting her mother's love, happy with any amount to have received as she ignores the rising bitterness of her past. A relationship that taught her to trust only herself, for everyone else would leave her scarred and alone. A complex relationship full of love that shines so brightly, casting shadows that hide the bottled-up grudges.

The first relationship to leave her damaged, yet not the last.

Valerie never could learn to shield herself from people fully. When given enough time, enough hints of companionship, she would break apart and reveal that shielded heart, like a dulled geode hiding beauty within its shadows.

But with Unit Bravo, with Nate, the cracks in her composure felt good, felt safe. But the lingering fear of them leaving plagued her during the nights when the slivers of the silver moonlight were her only companion. During the nights when her demons broke loose to play with her mind. Nights that were thankfully less common now, yet not banished entirely.

The fear of what they would say if they knew of her past, knew how she once desperately wished to leave it all behind, how addicting the taste of that abyss felt. How she occasionally continues to hear its dark beckoning, trying its best to lull her back towards that ledge, the path of no return...for a human like her, at least.

It’s been years since the sickly sweet voice had last tormented her, yet its ghost continues to haunt her.

It all started with her mother, yet continued with Bobby. With each new bruise added to the collection, the lost university student studying law yet ignoring the irony of the situation. How those scars on her heart would split open and fester on a bad day, worsened by Murphy, only able to be soothed by Nate's gentle hands as he unknowingly chases it away.

She knows that she should tell him and that she needs to tell him. Something this important shouldn't be kept from him, not now that things are official and serious between them. Yet the fears claw at her throat with their slender fingers, wrapping around her tongue to hold it still in submission. Could he still love her knowing that once the sunlight dies, she is no more than a broken bird, unable to fly and caged within the shackles of her own heart?

Yes.

She hears the gentle echo of his voice in her mind, “You are no broken bird, ya rouhi. You are so strong, I wish you could see yourself the way we see you.”

But her fear at that moment is stronger.

Valerie slowly tilts her head to gaze at the wide expanse above them. The silence of the starless sky screams out at her, half in mockery, half in accusation. The unknown caresses her with its icy hands as she presses her face deeper into his warm chest, the scent of sandalwood surrounding her as she feels his warm hands press into her instead as she continues to sob. His hands hold her firmly in place as she seeks refuge within his sanctuary.

“Love, what is the matter? Please speak to me, you don’t need to keep it all bottled up within you anymore.” His deep voice cuts through the buzzing of her mind, bringing her out from its murky depths and back to reality.

Nate's eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the small woman, somehow appearing even smaller with the way she curls around herself within his hold. He wishes he could fix whatever had gone wrong to cause her such distress, but a part of him knows that such wrongs take time to heal, if they ever do. He could guess, using the small fragments he has glimpsed throughout their time together.

The way her eyes light up around Rebecca, only to dull once she leaves. A fake smile firmly placed upon her professional mask, a mask that eerily resembles the older woman herself until her real one slowly melts through hours later.

The way Tina fiercely defends her when she cannot herself, how she hates Rebecca so that Val can love her.

The way she carefully hides the urge to freeze whenever someone moves too quickly, too unpredictably around her. Or the urge that occurs when the mention of needles is carelessly thrown around her, the subtle squint paired with the balling of her fists silently showing her discomfort, signs easily missed by anyone not able to hear the increasing heart rate that follows. Signs that Mason had picked up on first, the rest of them following shortly after. How could they not study all the details which make her the person they grew to care for, to love as a family?

The way she always refuses the aid of sleeping pills, no matter how dark her nightmares grow, causing her eyes to grow darker. Her smile weary and dull the next day as exhaustion threatens to drag her down.

But despite all that he has seen, Nate would rather not think assumptions about her, no matter how accurate. He is content to hold her together until she is ready to pull herself apart, to let her show him why he holds her together in the first place.

He simply loves her too much to know those parts of her until she is ready to reveal them first.

The same way she sees how he flinches at the roaring thunder, too sharply for it to simply be his surprise at the crash echoing above them. Yet she never pries when he brushes it off with a smile, too forced to be genuine.

The way she swallows back the occasional barbed retort when pushed by her mother, knowing each one would hit him as well. Knowing that she still has something he had lost long ago and not taking that for granted before him.

The way she is far more adept with technology, yet never takes it upon herself to dredge up the lost answers of his past herself.

They both know that she could, yet she loves him too much. She is content to wait for him to reveal those shards of himself first.

He hadn’t realised how long they had sat there together, blanketed by the silence despite the screaming of their thoughts. He is brought back from deep within his mind when he feels her shift, her watery jade eyes peeking up at him. The vulnerability within causes his throat to tighten, the trust causes his heart to follow.

The love and concern written all over his face is obvious, the two battling over what displays on his handsome features the most. It would make Val giggle if her heart hadn't sunk deep within her, causing her to cling to him as her anchor, preventing her from drifting off into that dark unknown once more. But as she gazes deep into the dark brown of his eyes, she feels at home.

Her fears melt away as he caresses her cheeks, silently wiping away the marks of her anguish as she allows herself to get lost in his eyes.

His warm, brown eyes do not once leave her own, the newly revealed stars reflecting within them, twinkling through the gentle expression as he looks at her as if she is his world. She sees herself within his eyes, a mess in comparison to him, the rivers down her cheeks have become tinted with the black of her mascara, now slightly smudged from her tears being brushed away.

Yet he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Hey love,” His hushed voice takes her away from her pain, if only for a moment, as she composes herself before him. “Are you ready to talk?”

For the first time in a while, Valerie feels her heart overflow with a love she never knew existed outside of fairy tales, knowing that she was safe and that he would listen to her story without running. That he would stand tall beside her, even on the days when all she could do is crumble.

With a watery smile, she pulls away from his warm comfort into the cold of night. Almost as if the shadows could shield her from the conversation she dreads. The dark embrace of nightfall had comforted her for so long, yet even with those shadows wrapping themselves around her shaking form, she had never quite felt as exposed as she does before him.

Confusion and concern flicker across his face as he looks up at her, not wanting to be the one to break the serene quiet that had fallen now her tears had lessened. Not wanting to startle her as she slowly pulls the loose threads of herself tight once more.

“Yes…I think I am.” Her voice is a shaky whisper as she stands before him, it takes all his strength to not reach out and hold her once more, knowing that being held together would do more damage, that it could cause her to flee further into that night like a skittish deer. He knows that she needs to make the small cracks first before she can let that wall fully crumble to the ground. How can he know so much, yet so little, about the woman who owns his heart?

So he simply stands, he stands before her and waits. Nate has all the time in the world, he is willing to give it all to her.

“I’m not exactly sure where to start,” Val runs her hands through her hair as she paces, the action doing very little to bring her comfort as she tries to pull at the stitches holding her heart and mind together, “or how to start actually… This might take a while. It might take a few days.”

Nate smiles down at her, a smile full of warmth and support that never fails to set her heart ablaze, no matter how frozen the day had caused it to grow.

“Take all the time you need, ya rouhi. If you need a suggestion, why not start with the main cause of your distress? We can have the discussion whenever you need, however often you need.”

Her fidgeting is brought to a halt as his words surround her. Relief washes over her small frame in waves as it sinks in, the olive branch he’s offered, a way out of needing to bare her whole heart to him in that fractured moment. A moment where she can’t even piece the story together, let alone weave it together for another to be able to follow.

It almost brings her to tears once more, almost. She holds it back as best as she can, having cried enough for the both of them tonight.

She comes to stand before him, looking up at his tall figure, highlighted by that sickeningly familiar glow of moonlight. A sight that helps settle the frantic pounding of her heart, the shaking of her hands. She fiddles with the end of her braid as she nods, a nervous tick of hers that he has grown used to.

“Ok, I can do that, I can start with what happened today and maybe go from there.” Valerie takes a deep breath, not able to meet his eye for longer than a brief glance, her eyes dart around the scenery circling them as if not looking at him could hide her from his own gaze. As if it could protect her from his reactions.

“Do you ever feel numb to everything around you? Like you are watching a movie of yourself in real-time and yet the you in the movie isn’t accurate, no matter how hard you try to act like yourself it's just not…you? It’s like the more I try to act normal, the more distant I feel from myself in these moments. It feels like my emotions are hidden behind the dull fuzz of radio static, I know they are there but I can never seem to reach them. Not until that dam breaks, one way or another, and they all come rushing through to overwhelm me and make me wish that I could go back to feeling that numbness.

Then there's the sadness that follows, it’s an odd kind of sadness that I don’t even know how to describe. The type that tears you to shreds from within, pulling you towards actions you would never do normally, things you regret when pulling yourself together the next day. I’m fine though…Or will be fine, it's just that the familiar feeling has been creeping up on me again recently. I guess it came to a boiling point earlier today.”

She looks down at the ground between them, her eyes shut tight as she bites her tongue, already regretting the words that it had released into the cold sky. The admission that not even Rebecca knew, for it would eat her alive from the guilt. An admission that no one had heard since she uttered it to Tina years prior. The first and last time those words had been given life, until now.

Those dark, consuming feelings terrify her now that she has something to lose, someone important that could be scared away by the brief whisper of the words, the brief glimmer of what she kept hidden. Not that he would be scared away from her or let something like that push him away from her side, yet the thoughts refuse to leave her alone, eating away at her from the inside.

Nate had taken her world of grey and taught her how to paint life back into it, never one to do it for her, purely giving her the tools to do so without even knowing. The thought of falling back into that grey unnerved her, the unwelcome fears come crawling out from the woodwork at the smallest whisper of her past.

Nate doesn’t leave her stewing within her muddled thoughts for long as he takes Valerie’s smaller hands within his larger ones, gently stroking the soft, pale flesh with his thumb before giving her hands a light squeeze. The action is soft and reassuring, letting her know that he’s still there, still hers.

His eyebrows furrow in concern as his own tears gather in his eyes. Yet he refuses to let them fall, not wanting to cause her more distress or to add more unneeded guilt onto her list. His heart aches at her confession, panic begins to swell in his chest at the implications laced between each word. The fear of losing her sets off alarm bells within his mind, the fear of what could have been makes them a cacophony.

He brings their joined hands to his lips, pressing feather-light kisses to her fingertips before letting one of her hands go in order to place a slender finger under her chin. He gently tilts her chin upwards, sighing inwardly as he spots her eyes tightly shut still.

He bends down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger as his voice caresses her. “Thank you for telling me, Val. I can’t say that I am familiar with what you’ve described, but I will do whatever it takes to help you through it, no matter what it takes or when it strikes.”

His heart swells with pride as he sees the strength that she had hidden away within her shielded heart. A certain type of strength he knew she would deny if spoken aloud but one he could always see within her, it shines brighter than the sun before him the moment she reveals her heart to him. The strength she holds lets her open up in ways unfamiliar to her, to push through the panic contracting her silence.

He beams down at her as she slowly opens her eyes to gaze up at him, the action causing the sides of his eyes to crinkle as he moves to slowly cover her face in kisses. Trailing down her nose, across each cheek before coming down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

“How did you usually handle such feelings? I can’t imagine that it has been easy for you.” He doesn’t miss the slight wince his question provokes, nor the way she bites her lip in hesitation, the urge to abort the conversation and run growing strong within her. So he simply tucks her head into the crook of his neck, cradling her close and letting the warmth of his body thaw the shivering overtaking her.

“The last time I acted on them, I ended up in a hospital,” She almost gasps with how easily the bitter confession fell from her lips, despite the fear that once kept it chained up within her.

She shrinks deeper into his hold when she hears his own sharp intake of breath, too quick for him to hide. Yet his gentle hands continue to hold her in place. He continues to hold her together as his fingers idly thread themselves through the braids in her hair, doing his best to comfort her without interrupting her constantly weaving train of thought.

“I’m alright now, that happened six years ago and I’ve made a lot of improvements since then. To the point where I really am alright now, more than alright, in fact! Tina was the one to help me through all that, she was in the hospital with me every day for as long as they let her stay.”

“I’m glad that you had her with you during those moments, it must have been scary for you.” He sways her gently within his arms, a silent dance under the moon's soft glow. His heart tries its best to not break with her confession, knowing that she is safe now. That the evidence of her safety is currently sniffling within his embrace, painting his shirt with old tears brought back to life, not that he minds.

He makes a mental note to buy Tina some fancy chocolates as a late thank you, adding flowers for Val onto the list.

“What about Rebecca?” She freezes in his arms, the question shooting a new shard of ice into her chest. That shard of ice digs deep, letting old and almost forgotten emotions bleed out. “Was she-”

“There?” Val’s shaky voice cuts through his own less-than-stable one. The word rushes out of her as if it would get trapped should she speak any slower. She trips on her words, not trusting herself to continue once she has stopped, not giving herself the chance to escape after pausing for a breath.

Each confession feels like lead on her tongue, filling her with unnecessary shame as she shines a light on the dark corners of her past. She knows that she shouldn’t feel ashamed, yet the sensation swims within her chest regardless, trying to drag her under as she peels away the fractured pieces of her mask of perfection.

“No, she didn’t know. I had changed my emergency contact for the hospital to Tina a few years before that. If Mum knew…she certainly never visited, so there's a good chance she doesn’t know at all. She can’t know, Nate. I’m sorry to throw all this onto you like that.”

He lets out the breath that he had been holding, the warmth of it brushing over her cold cheeks as he does. “You don’t need to apologise for any of this, Valerie. I am glad that you trust me enough to share parts of your past. You can always tell me anything, I hope you know that. As for Rebecca, she won’t learn about it from me, not if you wish for her to not know.”

He holds her shoulders, manoeuvring her so that he can gaze into her eyes. He gives her a watery smile of his own as he does, relieved that she had already exhausted all her tears for the evening as she peers up at him.

“I wish that I could do more for you,” he sighs, the sound is deep and old as an emotion Valerie can’t place swirls within his eyes.

“But you have done so much for me, Nate. More than I thought I deserved for a long time. You are like…one big ray of light on the days when I feel sad. Your smile never fails to send my heart and mind into overdrive, feeling more happiness than I know how to handle.” She brings a delicate hand up to caress his jaw, her thumb slowly stroking his cheekbone, giggling gently as she does. “You are the wordsmith out of the two of us, so I’m sorry if that doesn’t make much sense or sounds too cheesy.”

At that, the tense atmosphere that had been bubbling around them seemed to melt away as he slowly unties what remains of Val’s braid, her constant fidgeting paired with his own had made it far messier than she preferred.

“I didn’t want to make you sad or worried- seems like that is one of my talents recently,” she gives a weak chuckle at the light glare he throws her way. “I was having a bad day, which hasn’t happened in a while now that I think about it. I don’t think anything caused it either, it snuck up on me out of nowhere and I guess I just panicked. I had been meaning to tell you everything and I think that just stressed me out to the point of overthinking it and panicking even more than I previously was. I was scared to lose you, especially over something that had happened years ago.”

A chill wind cuts through the gap between them as the remains of the night fade away to greet the rising sun. The few remaining inky spectres -no longer content on dredging up the past- retreat from the light as Val watches the sunrise shine through his eyes.

Despite the harsh wind building up around them, she no longer feels the cold nipping at her skin as she sinks deep into his leather jacket, still gently hanging from her shoulders. Her cheeks grow even warmer as he moves to zip it up, amusement shining in his eyes as she almost vanishes beneath the old leather.

“If you feel like you are having another bad day, please come to me. Even if you don’t wish to discuss it, you don’t need to handle it alone, Val. You could never scare me away.” As if to punctuate his point, he quickly kisses the tip of her cold nose before pressing his forehead to hers.

Under the golden light of dawn, Nate hesitates before taking a deep breath, almost begging the words to conjure themselves so that he didn’t need to. “I know what it's like to fear someone else's reaction to the past, what they might say, what they might be too afraid to say. You mean so much to me Val, to all of us. You don’t need to worry about scaring any of us away, we are a team, that goes beyond the agency.”

The smile she graces him with makes everything worth it as she laces her fingers with his own, clinging to him tightly as she turns to watch the sunrise and the way it causes the warehouse facade to glow in gentle hues of orange.

As he looks down at her, he notices Valerie standing a little taller, no longer being weighed down by those fears that had clung to her with all their might.

#♥. writing #♥. Valerie #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #detective x nate #female detective x nate #twc angst #wayhaven angst

9 notes · View notes