#HE MOVED IN 2 SECONDS AGO AND WERE ALREADY SHARING CLOTHES | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

overnowsfcb · 1 year ago

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worth it for once; pedri

summary: sometimes the show must not go on. what happens when the curtains fall?

warnings: angst, smut (dom!pedri, pool sex, hickey, blow job (v), masturbation and self-masturbation (p), pet names) mature language, abuse of alcohol, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 5.9k

note: hi! first of all i wanted to thank everyone who interacted with 'halfway out the door', you don't even know how much it means to me that people can read my stories. i knew i said i would do some fluff, but i feel like im not good at it. i cant seem to let the reader be happy can i? (this fic is so long i feel like i got a bit carried away)

p.s.: this is my first time ever writing smut, im sorry if its too bad. also! 'halfway out the door' has ninety percent of possibility to have a second part.

p.s. 2: the party ended an hour ago and he still there. another thing that i wanted to say is that FOR ME 'slut!' is not a love song so that is my reason for this, i take my interpretation of the song and write it down — venus 🫂💐🫧

The sun's rays slipped through the white curtain covering the partially open window, letting in the morning breeze. You nestled in the sheets, still drowsy, but as you did, you snapped wide awake, realizing once again that Pedri wasn't by your side.

You turned over, hoping it was a dream, but the only remnants of him in the room were his lingering scent and memories of the night before, replaying in your mind.

The way he touched you, tracing each of the invisible scars left by your previous lovers who sought only their own pleasure, using you to their liking without paying attention to your desires.

He was different. His kisses felt like a religious experience, filling you with an ever-growing sense of fulfillment. Nothing wrapped around you more securely than the feeling of having him inside of you, merging under the lustful gaze of the moon that welcomed you on a tailor-made altar, adorned with soft sheets and sensations that turned into a celestial orchestra.

And although the next day, perhaps his flaws became evident, your infatuation took you beyond, closing the curtain of the stage within your mind; you didn't have to be displeased or critical when admiring a work of art, right?

When the strength left from the previous night was regained under pressure, and your mind returned to the frosty present, you sat up in bed, feeling your head heavy, needing to blink several times to clear the blurriness that clouded your eyes due to sleep.

Your feet rested on the wooden floor. You didn’t want to face another day with the pain of the mandatory conviction your heart held towards your mind, aiming it with a gun if it tried to move from there.

You sighed with closed eyes and gathered your clothes scattered around the room. When you finished dressing, you approached the window and inhaled a breath of air to refresh your thoughts.

You left your room; the squeak of the door echoed through the house, signaling to Elena that you had already woken up. You couldn't lie; you were afraid to face her.

She, your best friend since you desperately looked for someone to share an apartment with after the owners of your previous apartment unjustly left you out in the cold.

She, who warmly welcomed you full of empathy and commiseration, helped you deal with the storm by receiving you in a studio apartment with an air mattress. She became the person you adored most in the whole world and never lacked frankness in her words.

Both of you moved forward together; now, you succeeded in modeling, and you could search for something much more comfortable living now in a pent-house, but always side by side.

You arrived at the spacious kitchen connected to the dining room and were met with an exquisite aroma, akin to the dishes she professionally prepared. You tied your hair in a ponytail and moved the chair to sit facing the counter.

Crossed fingers and your chin resting on your hands, you noticed she expected your presence when she twisted her torso, leaving a plate with toast and homemade raspberry jam on the marble counter in front of you.

You waited a moment to grab one of the perfectly made toasts and spread the jam in the toast; you felt the tension in the air. You knew of her disapproving stance regarding your situation with Pedri, and you knew she was preparing the usual sermon.

"Want to say something about it?" It was as if she had read your mind; turning her back, you sat up straighter on the stool, your distressed chest making your heart pump more blood than usual.

"No," you replied dryly, as you took a bite of toast.

"Alright, then it'll be up to me." You felt fear travel up your spine to the buzzing in your head and a high-pitched tone ringing in your ears.

You tried to breathe normally, but it was impossible. Her actions guided your eyes; she put the angel food cake in the oven and turned around, sitting on the stool in front of you, looking at you incredulously.

"He left at seven in the morning. When was the last time he stayed the following morning with you? I know you don't want to hear this, and I understand that you're into him. But don't let that blind you from what's really happening here. You're too intelligent for this, too good for someone who treats you like an option." Her words were always harsh, and she never hesitated to tell you the bleak truth without flinching. But it wasn't what you needed now, and her words were insignificant in front of the formidable figure that Pedri occupied in your mind.

There were very few people who dared to challenge your perspective, and Elena was brave enough to do it, even though her attempts always ended in defeats.

And defeats consisted in your denial, where you decided to take off your glasses after seeing what was there. You knew it existed and acknowledged it deep down, but hearing someone throw out statements so lightly without knowing him in the homely intimacy where he could unfold without prejudices, was something only you could discover.

The 'Open Sesame' didn't work with all tones, and not everyone acquired the privilege of opening such a treasure. So, you assumed it was envy.

"Maybe it’s a mess, maybe it’s complicated, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth a damn!" Your voice began to rise in volume the more anger you vented at her, who was innocent of it all. You noticed her furrowed brow, her attempts to help, every time she threw you a lifeline, you chose to ignore it, believing you could swim the remaining yards to shore alone.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to find a balance, but your aggressiveness seemed to have reached its peak.

"I’ll sort it out myself, alright?" You exhaled, continuing your defense. "So just back off, Ele. I’m sick of needing your approval for everything. I’ll make my choices, even if they’re not in your rulebook." You spoke with a passive-aggressive tone. "You think you know him? You have no clue, none whatsoever." You got up from your seat, giving the countertop a light tap, and shook your head indignantly.

"I just want what's best for you, y/n," She whispered, looking you in the eyes with honesty. You headed towards the door disappearing from her sight.

You knew that she wanted to protect you like she did from the very first moment.

Despite being your age, she showed herself to be more mature than you. You were like her baby chick, and she had the instinct to keep you under her wings, but she had to admit that you had to learn defense by yourself.

And sometimes you need to fail to build your path.

There was no better remedy in your routine than drowning yourself in work to stop thinking about all the dilemmas surrounding your life. At least for a few hours.

Growing within the fashion industry was difficult without contacts; if you wanted to achieve something, you had to consider the hurdles you might carry in your backpack. But your resilience and pride prevented anyone else, terrified of having a future of subordination, from winning.

Today's meetings were about agreements for your brand, a dream that grew with you from your mom reading you bedtime stories to the present day.

You had put so much effort and creativity into your project that, regardless of what happened externally, your priority would always be there. No affair or argument could steer you away from that.

All your distractions due to logical thoughts vanished upon arriving at your apartment. You turned on the lights; Elena had left you a message informing you that she would stay at her boyfriend's house for the night.

Your home felt empty without her blasting music through the speakers and constant movements around the house. You cracked your neck, leaving your faux leather coat on the entryway rack. You lazily tossed your bag onto the couch, sitting beside it. You unbuckled your heels, freeing your feet.

A contained sigh escaped your nostrils, easing your chest a bit. You heard thousands of notifications coming from your bag. Worried, you unzipped it and searched for the phone, unsure of what was happening.

You glanced at the news headlines and the numerous social media posts where you were being tagged. You thought you had successfully escaped last time. The carefully revised alibi by both managers to divert media attention from your relationship had been futile.

But it seemed not entirely effective; without any evidence or concrete proof, just a blurry and deficient photo was enough for them to create a compelling scene for the public.

You clicked on a specific article; its name caught your attention, "The New Target of Love: The Boy in Her Chaos - Will He Survive?" You knew it wasn't the smartest decision you could make; the echoes of the voices of the people closest to you resonated in your ears. But you were alone and had nothing better to do at that moment.

The devil on your right shoulder encouraged and forced you to keep reading; with each sentence and word, your tear ducts were ready to expel the salty drops from your eyes.

You couldn't understand why journalists consistently targeted your romantic relationships instead of focusing on your professional endeavors, where you worked, and strived every day to show the world that you were more than just a pretty face. But in a sexist world, you had to accept without a murmur the things they wrote without any pity, driven by money and interactions.

Had you signed up for this life, or was it something gradually inserted into your brain about what it had to be?

You found yourself seated at your computer with a bottle of wine by your side, seemingly engrossed in reading each of the articles criticizing you and perpetuating a negative reputation of yourself.

You had poured a small amount of the burgundy liquid into your glass. Some sort of masochism consumed you, and without noticing, you began to pour more and more wine into the glass, your heart filling with misery, pausing at every clever word that defined your identity on the internet. Because all of the words seemed monotone.

Until the glass was no longer enough to swallow the bitter pill, you stared at the bottle, contemplating your next move. You shrugged and reached for the bottle with difficulty, your vision truly distorted, no longer having a sense of space.

You leaned back in the couch and took a long swig that burned your throat, feeling your heart rate rise.

You decided you had gone too far, abruptly leaving the computer on the table in front of you. When you tried to get up, you fell backward by inertia, unbalanced. That's when you realized you weren't even paying attention to the news but mindlessly scrolling your mouse.

The tears you had been holding back for over an hour and a half streamed down your cheeks immediately. Now, you couldn't turn back and felt trapped within your own uncontrollable body.

Gut-wrenching sobs made your body tremble, and at that moment, all you could think of was his touch, how every time you cried, he carefully wiped your cheeks and assured you that this too shall pass.

With tears and alcohol blurring your vision, it wasn't hard to find his number as you had it pinned in your messaging app. You opened his chat and immediately tapped the call icon.

You placed your phone to your ear, hearing the beeps from the other end, while your body, consumed by sorrow, couldn't help but continue shedding tears.

You perceived a noticeable change from silence to a clear indication that the call had been answered. You tried to stifle your crying by biting your lip, but it seemed this battle wouldn't let you emerge victorious.

"Love, are you crying?" You wanted to respond, but his voice only intensified your desire to cry; you longed to feel his warmth. You still didn't understand why you decided to go this far. "y/n, I'm worried. Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?" You tried to take a deep breath to provide an answer.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and then placed it on your chest, trying to assist in the calming process. "It's so exhausting." These were the words that came out of your mouth as you exhaled.

He still didn't understand exactly what you were talking about, but you kept talking. "I think I can't be with you anymore." Your voice came out strained; you truly didn't want to say those words. You clung to the arm of the chair with one hand, squeezing it, waiting to hear the response on the other side.

"What?" He couldn't comprehend how he had woken up at two in the morning, and you were talking about cutting ties. "Love, listen to me. Why don't you go to sleep, and tomorrow, we spend the day at the country house?" On the other end of the line, he easily realized the moment he picked up that you were drunk.

"Okay." You affirmed with a nod, resting your head on the armrest, and lifting your feet to stretch out on the sofa. "I love you a lot." Your face contracted again, a sign that tears would return.

"You too." He replied, and you were the one who ended the call, slightly calmer about the reflections the articles had left and the incoherent thoughts that had arisen from them.

You left the phone by your side and curled up, hugging yourself, seeking warmth without the help of a blanket. You closed your eyes, praying that the world would change radically tomorrow, although you knew it was an unlikely hope. You never wished more than for whoever was in the sky to give you a new chance to love in the right way.

You needed to believe in someone; you needed assistance from the universe to not lose the hope that once brought you immense joy. But perhaps genuine love was like Santa Claus, and sooner or later, it would crumble like any other ingenious belief.

And like a shrewd child who receives his Christmas gifts with the same enthusiasm even after learning the hidden truth, you dipped your feet into the transparent chlorinated water.

He watched each of your movements attentively, leaning on one of the pool edges. You plunged, soaking your entire body, and swam towards his direction, resurfacing enveloped in laughter with him.

He embraced you, sharing some of his warmth to your cold body due to the sudden change in the water, and you placed your hands around his waist, looking up at him from his chest.

"I love you so much." You bit your lip, seeking an outlet for your love. He rested his hands on your cheeks and began planting short kisses that spread across your entire face.

"I love you more." He reciprocated, giving two gentle taps on your legs. You jumped, and he took you into his arms grabbing your ass.

Quickly, he changed his position, leaving your back resting on the cold pool wall. The chills went up through your spinal cord, fusing the temperature of the edge and its expression, which never went out of style to make you think that everything you needed was there, with him.

You ran his sculpted shoulders with your palms open, feeling his muscles and intertwined your fingers behind his neck, brushing his hair.

Your lips brushed, and you could feel the electricity that could arise from a simple and minimal contact.

He brought his face to you, holding you tight against the concrete.

It was undeniable the indissoluble bond tied by the threads that led you each time to the same situation, and the core of your life was nourished by its bond.

As your lips collided with fervor, eager to quell the fervent passion, you pulled him closer with your legs still entwined around his waist. Feeling his hardness against your core ignited arousal as he pressed himself firmly, and both of you gasped in the midst of the kiss at the electrifying contact.

Your lips didn't want to part, too hungry for each other's sweet taste. You caught his lower lip between your teeth, pulling it gently to invite your tongue into his mouth. It had become sloppy as you lightly tugged his hair, eliciting a groan.

His hand stealthily ascended, never parting from your lips, traveling from your ass to the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

His tender lips traced a pattern from your cheeks to your neck. You tilted your head back, offering more of your skin for his exploration.

Expertly, his fingers unraveled the straps of your bikini with a single pull, still nestled in your neck. As the air grazed your tightened nipples, your breath hitched when he took one between his fingers, fidgeting and further intensifying the sensation.

Your sensitive boobs elicited desperate whimpers as he continued grinding against you, creating a symphony of pleasure. The air thickened, and your bodies radiated heat.

His lips passionately suctioned a spot, causing your eyes to roll. You were well aware that he would leave a hickey there.

Moving from your neck, his lips trailed down to your collarbone. Frustration built as he skillfully teased the sides of your breasts, deliberately avoiding the attention where you craved it most.

"Pedri, please..." You gently tugged his strands, prompting him to lift his head. Counterfeit innocence gleamed in his pupils.

"What do you need, amor? Tell me, is there something I can do for you?" His gentle caress graced your cheek, and you melted into his simmering touch.

"Please..." He ceased grinding, his hand swiftly traversing to your neck, as your hand descended, grazing his abs.

"If only you could see this beautiful hickey right now," He whispered, tracing the mark and toying with you, his actions inviting your response as he often did.

It was exasperating; no matter how frequently you found yourself in such moments with him, articulating your desires remained a challenge.

"Just do something," you uttered, a touch of despondency in your voice, pouting with pleading eyes. Yet, he remained resolute.

"I just don't know what you want." He shook his head, gently placing a strand of hair behind your ear, mimicking your pout with a teasing tone.

"Alright... just please, babe, suck my tits," you replied with a hint of frustration. His corners lifted, forming a smile, having successfully achieved his goal.

"There she is, that's my good girl, aren't you?" You couldn't help but nod several times steadfastily, just wanting him to stop playing.

His face vanished from your sight as he covered one of your breasts with his mouth. A loud moan escaped your throat, a sound of satisfaction for him as he moved his tongue, savoring your skin. "Was it that difficult?" He gazed at you once more, and you sighed in irritation, prompting him to raise his eyebrows, questioning your actions.

"No." Your fingers traced his chest as he continued sucking with determination.

Moving lower, you reached the edge of the swim trunks' fabric. However, as you did, he pulled away with a frown. "Who said you could touch?" You mirrored his expression confused.

"Last night, you scared me a lot. Do you think it was funny for me? No, so you can't decide who's having fun, okay?" Your chest felt heavy, yet you found a strange allure in his dominant low voice, even though you wanted to object.

"I thought..." He wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you back and shutting your mouth with his thumb. He watched as you sucked it, humming and biting his plump lips.

"You didn't think shit. Now, jump." He firmly gripped your hips, lifting you effortlessly to the pool's edge. Seated, you patiently awaited his guidance, uncertainty accelerating your heartbeat.

Intense eye contact heightened the tension. His fingers delicately traced over your thighs, starting from the outer part, then gently grazing your clothed intimacy. He devoured you with his gaze.

"Lean back for me, baby." You did as he pleased leaning in your elbows.

He tapped on your thighs, a signal to lift your hips, and he removed the sole fabric covering your body and throwing it to your side. He took your legs and placing them over his shoulders. Spreading you open. A groan escaped him at the sight, reveling in your arousal.

"So wet, just for me," he murmured, running his fingers through your folds, collecting your juices and parting your lips to spread the liquids.

You pressed closer, yearning for more. "Just for you." Suddenly, a firm spank on your sensitive area made you shudder, and you gasped. "Behave," he commanded, throwing you a dominant look.

Circling your clit, he gradually increased the pace. Tilted back, moans escaped uncontrollably. Another spank followed, and you met his gaze. "Keep your eyes on me, princess. Watch as I pleasure you like no one else could."

His words wielded a powerful influence in every scenario. Returning to your pussy, he made his way to slip two fingers inside you easily as you were soaked by now. The reflex to close your eyes surfaced, but his commanding words echoed in your mind.

He initiated a rhythmic motion, penetrating and withdrawing, targeting your most sensitive depths, obscene wet sounds, thumb still teasing your bud. Overwhelmed by the intensity, you sought stability, bringing your index finger to your mouth, biting down to anchor yourself. "You can grab my hair, baby," he suggested, prompting a satisfying sigh as you obediently followed his directive.

As the synchronization of your movements intensified, he decided to elevate the pleasure further. His mouth joined the sensual dance, lasciviously spitting your core, eliciting a contented hum from you.

As his mouth drew near your clit, enveloping it ably, a scream escaped your lips, worthy of a scene of a pornographic film. His name slipped through your mouth, an inadvertent encouragement that fueled his tenacity to excel, delve deeper, move faster, and render you numb in ecstasy.

In the intimacy, he displayed a reflection of his approach on the field, always seeking ways to enhance and achieve peak performance, a relentless pursuit of reaching his full potential at what he knew he was one of the bests, even when he didn't want to admit it.

There was no sweeter melody than your filthy moans. His crotch throbbed aching, aware that just a few pumps would make him reach his climax. But he needed to focus on you first, even though he rolled his hips against the concrete, trying to calm down his needs.

He groaned, shutting his eyes and digging his tongue into your hole. Your legs entwined around his neck, the tight knot of pleasure building as you moved your hips in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue.

"Pedri, I'm..." You shouted, the words hanging in the air unfinished, as he entered both, fingers with tongue, increasing the pace with each successive motion.

He opened his eyes again, locking onto yours, brimming with passion beneath the sun. His nose brushing against your clit, combined with his bambi-like eyes in contrast to the authority he held over you, escalate the moment as you tightly grasped his hair, evoking the release of your juices.

He couldn't help but stop pressing against the wall and squeeze his shaft inescapably, captivated by the way you adhered to what he said, even if it meant he had to assert control with a firm hand, correcting your inclination to lean back a few times.

He loved how obedient you were and how your body reacted.

Your high-pitched sounds spurred him to slip his hand inside his swim trunks, almost moaning at the sensations created by his own touch and the enticing arch of your back. He found himself immersed in the sweet taste and intoxicating fragrance that surrounded him.

He went up and down with his hand on his dick fervently, trembling in sync with you. "Are you going to come, my love? Do it for me," his deep voice making you feel so close. You played with one of your hardened nipples between your fingers. You affirmed with the other hand on his hair, and he hummed against you in response. "Oh, my god." you mumbled.

His vibrations heightened your euphoria, and the combination of his tongue and fingers left you feeling overstimulated. As you screamed arching your back, you became undone, laying flat, straightening your arms at your side and shuddering as you felt him persisting in his ministrations.

Too blind to reach his own pleasure to think about anything else, he continued pounding his dick, gripping his tip as he parted his lips, releasing ecstatic sounds and feeling the reverberations across his body. Leaning against your abdomen, he sensed his shots filling his shorts as he lowered his pace.

You tenderly ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, both basking in the tranquility of the moment as his chest rose and fell. Minds empty.

"Come here, baby," you whispered. He propelled himself up from the water and leaned flat at your side.

As you lay down on the cold poolside with him, he placed his hand on your waist, burying his head in your neck. He rubbed his nose, sensing how your perfume delicately mixed with expelled pheromones, obtaining a small giggle from you.

You swung your leg over his waist, leaning your chest towards him, and stroked his wet hair.

"Thank you," you smiled with closed eyes, sighing. "It's just what I needed."

"I like hearing that," he said, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. You looked like a fallen angel with your smudged mascara, swollen lips, tired eyes, and blush spreading across your cheeks.

His gaze instinctively dropped to your neck, observing the love mark on your skin. Though in his mind, he still questioned if this was truly love.

Without delving too much into his thoughts, he gently pecked your lips.

"Pedri..." you sighed, coming down from the adrenaline rush. Sitting up, you supported yourself with your hands and looked at him, recalling internet articles and Elena's words.

"Already want to talk about that?" he asked, huddled up, absorbing the remaining sunlight.

"I'm going to shower," you said, rising from the ground, creating a space for anticipation, allowing him to process and reflect. You knew the house perfectly, having visited many times with the understanding that no one could see you and spend the entire day together.

But meaningful memories were scarce, and you clung to them, hoping that someday it could be more than the fear of being seen together, unable to go to a restaurant or travel together.

You entered the shower, letting the cold water make you reconsider your beliefs. You trusted that, for the first time, you had found something real, a gentleman who stood out in the world of ordinary men, wanting to keep you safe.

You also trusted that you would walk on nails and endure all the thorns of a rose just to be with him. But genuinely, love should be about facing painful situations to prove love for a person, or love should feel welcoming, a place where you would stay for eternity if it had to be so?

You analyzed it, the rain falling on you as you cleaned your body. You wouldn't stay with Pedri; he never felt like a place where you could unload all your baggage without fear.

After all, coming from past relationships, he was your sanctuary at first, stemming from more deficient and unstable experiences. You couldn't stop the solitary tear that escaped your eye.

Since the night you met, you should have realized that nothing good could come from something that was supposed to be just for a night. But you didn't want to listen.

You left the shower, unable to continue ruminating in your head without fainting in the attempt. The drops that weren't allowed to fall from your tear ducts were released by your hair.

You grabbed your clothes, still absorbed in your thoughts. When you finished dressing, you placed your hand on the doorknob. Behind it lay the definition of the future of this strange relationship, and the confrontation was something that terrified you.

You walked into the living room to find him seated, wrestling with his thoughts, head bowed, facing away. Approaching him, you crossed your arms in front of his neck and hugged him, taking in his freshly scented and the slight dampness of his hair. He looked at you wearily, unsure of what would happen, and you gave him a kiss on the cheek before sitting next to him on the gray sofa.

You took his hand with love; you couldn't deny that, despite everything, he had been the source of most of your joys in the last four months. You took a deep breath before letting it out and started speaking.

"Are you mine?" His hand tensed, and his brow furrowed. He didn't understand where such a sudden question came from.

"What?" He responded confused, almost pulling away from you.

"Are you mine or not?" You still hoped for a more certain answer.

"I don't understand where your question is coming from." His expression showed he had never really thought about something like that. At least, was there some kind of feeling for you in his heart? You wondered which person you had been with all this time.

"Just answer it." You let go of his hand; your voice carried a tone of desperation and anguish. You knew you wouldn't get anywhere, but you still needed to cling to the few hopes that remained.

"I don't understand what you mean by 'yours'; we never talked about..." He tried to make another excuse in front of your eyes. It felt as if he were treating you like a little girl, who would eventually leave the question unanswered once she got tired.

"I need to know where we stand! Do you want to be with me or not?" You no longer knew why you kept trying about something that wouldn't change. You stood up from the sofa, and he avoided looking at you.

"Why do you have to make it so complicated? We're just having fun." He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. That response could have been worse than a straightforward no.

"Having fun? Do you think I'm with you to have fun with how the media calls me a slut, Pedro?" You shook your head in disbelief, letting out a bitter, pained laugh. "Four months enduring your ambiguities while defending you in front of my friends, saying you needed time." Your voice faltered, recalling all the arguments you had faced, thinking that at some point, everything would change.

"I didn't think you felt that way." He detached himself from his actions, as if it were so simple. Still avoiding eye contact.

"You said you loved me! Did you ever feel genuine love for me?" Your heart tightened; all this couldn't be a big lie where you were the only one playing a game that was already resolved.

"I don't know." He whispered, unsure of how you would react to such an unsure yet determinant answer. Your eyes blurred with contained tears; you couldn't cry like this in front of him.

"You knew everything you were doing; you knew that I was yours, and you didn't care." You screamed, desperate for him to show some emotion, to show that something of everything you had experienced had a hint of reality.

"It wasn't like that." He replied in the same flat tone, this time looking at you and realizing the tears that were falling, while you were motionless, feeling the room spin around you, and your ears ringing again.

"It was exactly like that." You had been sincere from your first conversation, under that neon light on a private yacht. A party where you didn't want to be, he approached you for that simple reason; you were the only girl who hadn't looked at him.

And you had found someone whom you thought had the will and power to heal all your wounds. But you ended up dancing with shadows in glass, with something ephemeral that you thought could be eternal. While you ended up being one of the many prey in his history.

"I gave you everything, I told you about my past and how I needed someone to trust, and you ended up being like everyone else." You released a silent sob and headed towards the room, where you had left your backpack. You were supposed to spend a weekend together, and now everything was withered. Your feigned acts of believing that magic still existed were in vain.

"Where are you going?" You gasped, bumping into him in the door frame; he placed his hands on your shoulders, concerned.

"I called Elena; she'll come to pick me up." You hadn't even talked to your best friend when you sneaked away with Pedri at noon; she would do everything to stop you from leaving, and you preferred not to tell her. But she, without hesitation, as soon as you asked, was already on her way.

"We can try to fix it." You knew he was only offering the response your ears craved. But you weren't going to fall for his spells. This time, his method of still having your strings to manipulate you like a puppet wouldn't work.

"I won't be with someone who never cared about me." You walked to the door, lowering the latch, and turned around once more; he looked at you from a considerable distance. He wasn't going to try to stop you, and that was what hurt the most. "Good luck, Pedro."

You left the house, and the evening air enveloped you. You walked along the walkway made of rocks, each step feeling heavier than the last. Another relationship failing, another person disappointing and discarding you like a crumpled note, forgotten in the margins of a story that never reached its intended conclusion.

Your tears flowed freely down your cheeks now that you weren't facing him. You stood on the street, waiting for Elena to arrive. She had every right to tell you 'I told you so,' and she would be justified.

You saw her black car approaching from the end of the street, parking right in front of you. You hesitated for a moment to get in, embarrassed to ignore someone who only sought your happiness.

She rolled down the window, and your eyes locked inviting you in. Opening the door, she extended her arms, offering solace. Tears streamed down your face as you looked for refuge on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Ele." You lifted your head, and she gently wiped away your tears. Shaking her head, she dismissed your apologies.

"I'll always be here by your side. You're the one who needs to learn, but I'll never leave you adrift, okay?" You pouted, and your tears continued to flow.

You both settled back into your seats, stealing glances at the house. A part of you lingered there, and a lump formed in your throat. You sensed that distancing yourself was the only thing that could save you from descending into delirium. Now, you must gather the fragments of your heart once more and rebuild it on your own.

Your eyes went directly to the hickey he had left. You wanted to rip that skin off, not wanting to have him in your memories in any way.

Leaning your head against the window, you wondered what could have been if fame hadn't been the haunting specter in your life. You guessed that you will never actually know.

#pedri x reader #pedri angst #pedri smut #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football angst #football smut #pedri imagine

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zukkook · 2 years ago

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sunburn — choi san

summary | you had your fun at the beach, enjoyed the warm sunlight and the calming sound of the waves. but now you're tired and your back hurts, so a nap is the only thing on your mind... not for your boyfriend though. he just wants attention.

pairing | choi san x reader genre | fluff, suggestive, established relationship word count | 2.4k warnings | mentions of sex, a little spicy but no actual smut

a/n: yes, this was in fact a hundred percent inspired by me forgetting to put sunscreen on before going to spend 2+ hours at the beach.

The voices and laughter coming from the kitchen are muffled by the closed door of the room you are in. You went in there earlier, after telling your friends that you would like to rest for a bit and to only bother you once the food is ready. Truthfully, you do feel bad about not offering a hand with lunch and, on any other occasion, you would be more than willing to get up and help. But after spending the morning at the beach with no sunscreen on, your back and your shoulders are scorching red and any slight movement hurts like hell. So you opted for lying on your front on the single bed of the room you and San were assigned, hoping for the burning sensation to let up. Luckily, your friends were very understanding, and Seonghwa even offered to bring you a plate when they are done cooking so you don’t have to move much, but you refused.

You have no clue how long you have been in there, especially with how you keep dozing off. With Mingi’s boisterous laugh resonating in every corner of the house, you thought you wouldn’t get much rest. But turns out you were awfully wrong, considering all of the noise coming from outside does nothing but act as a peculiar lullaby.

Not even the sound of the door opening is enough to make you raise your head from the pillow. At least not until someone drops all of their weight on top of you, making you both bounce slightly on the mattress.

There is no need to ask who it is or to turn around to see for yourself because you already know the answer. The way they are tightly hugging your waist while shamelessly burying their face between your shoulder blades is a dead giveaway. Only a couple of people in the entire house would dare to do such a thing without a care in the world. And considering you can hear Wooyoung screeching outside, that only leaves one suspect.

But knowing who it is doesn’t stop you from groaning. The sensation of cloth brushing against your burning shoulders is too uncomfortable to bear, yet the person on top of you seems to be too focused on rubbing his cheek against your back to notice you are in pain.

“San,” you mumble.

“Mhm?”

Even though you can’t see him, and even when no actual words come from his mouth, you know he is smiling. You can hear it in the pleased tone of his voice.

“My back.”

“What?” He asks, slightly raising his head from your back to look at the side of your face.

“My back,” you repeat a bit louder.

San furrows his brows instead of answering, still not fully comprehending what you are trying to say. It takes him no more than a few seconds to separate his head from your back and glance downwards. When he finally notices the reddish skin along your body his eyes widen and he hurries to get off of you.

“Oh my God!” He exclaims. “I’m so sorry, baby! I forgot.”

He lies on his front right next to you, mirroring your form. The bed is way too small for the both of you to be resting on it at a comfortable distance, but you have been sharing it since your group arrived at the summer house a couple of days ago, so you are used to it by now. It was clear from the start that there were not enough beds for everyone, so some special arrangements had to be made. These arrangements ended with some people sleeping in the living room, taking all over the couches, and a poor Mingi having no other choice but to lie on the floor. No couch was big enough for him anyway. The rest ended up sharing the few beds available, landing you with a single bed in the smallest room of the house. Initially, San was going to share one of the couches in the living room with Wooyoung. But after the other boy pushed him in his sleep and sent him down to the floor during the first night there, San sneaked inside your room and asked if he could share the bed with you. And of course, you said yes.

A soft laugh makes its way out of your lips while you turn your head on the pillow to rest your gaze on his worried one.

“It’s okay, Sannie. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

The worry in his eyes blurs into sympathy when he leans forward to place a delicate kiss on your shoulder, trying his best not to let the simple action hurt you in any way. The softness behind his moves is enough to make a faint smile appear on your lips. He always treats you like this, like you are deserving of every bit of love he has to give. Like you are the most beautiful piece of art he has ever laid eyes on. But even after his countless shows of affection, his tenderness never fails to take you by surprise, making the butterflies in your stomach come alive every single time.

When he leans back, he drops his head on the little bit of space left on the pillow you are using. As a consequence, his face is now resting centimeters away from yours. At this distance, you can feel every warm breath he lets out, smell the sweetness of his cologne and see even the tiniest of moles adorning his cheeks.

By the time you become aware of the way his eyes travel down your face to rest at a certain spot, he is moving again. The arm that was stuck between both of your bodies is now sneaking around your lower back, sliding across it until it wraps around your waist. Meanwhile, his leg finds its way between your legs, tangling them together and allowing him to slightly caress the exposed skin there with the inside of his foot.

“Is this okay?” He asks. His voice is low and soft against your face.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Neither of you say much after that, basking in the comfortable silence that forms between you two. From time to time, San leans forward again to leave more of those tender kisses on your exposed shoulder, while simultaneously rubbing any non-burnt skin he can find with the hand resting on your waist. His gentle ministrations, combined with the sound of the softened chatting in the kitchen, relax you enough to have you dozing off again.

But before your mind can shut down completely, he opens his mouth.

“Baby.”

“Mhm?”

He is pressing his lips against your shoulder, unable to stop the sweet kisses before the words sputter out of his mouth.

“Would I be too much of an ass if I asked you to have sex with me right now?”

His eyes are barely open, looking up at you lazily. It seems like he has been dozing off as well.

“What the hell, San?” You snort, not sure how to react, but still feel the laughter threatening to escape from the back of your throat.

San’s brows furrow as he leans back from your shoulder, his head hovering over the pillow.

“What? You were running around all day in that new bikini you bought. What did you expect from me?”

He pouts as he finally lets his head rest fully on the pillow. You don’t realize he is actually trying to hide his face on it until he continues talking, this time at an even lower volume, as if he were about to confess to something embarrassing.

“You looked hot. I got turned on…”

Your eyes widen as you can’t hold it in anymore and a rather wild laugh escapes you, your whole body shaking from the force of it and taking away the little sleep that remained in you.

“San!”

Trying to hide the sudden blush that takes over his cheeks, San fully buries his face in the pillow this time. The action is futile though: you’ve already noticed the warmth on them as well as the grin that takes over his face, toeing the line between a shy smile and a straight-up smirk.

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, the sound coming off muffled.

He eventually becomes brave enough to take a peek at your face, his short black fringe tousled by the pillow. He is relieved to see that you are not mad at his previous words but amused by them instead.

But suddenly your brows furrow, and San sees the exact moment something seems to click in your head.

“Wait a minute,” you say. His smile fades at your abrupt seriousness and gets replaced by a blank expression. “Are you saying that you’ve been turned on this whole time?”

He stares at you with his eyes blinking at an irregular pace. His lips keep opening and closing again, trying to come up with something to say, but nothing escapes them in the end. He is short-circuiting. That is answer enough.

“Oh my God, San!” You explode in laughter again, half shocked, half amused. “The reason you came in here in the first place was because you wanted to fuck, wasn’t it?”

Once again, you don’t really need him to say anything. You already know the answer to that question, if the way he was touching you and kissing you earlier is anything to go by. Sure, San is a very touchy and affectionate person by nature. But considering you have been dating him for a couple of years now, you usually pride yourself in how effortlessly you can read him. It is rather easy to tell when his gentle caresses hide a different intention. The only reason you weren’t able to catch on to it faster this time probably has to do with the newly acquired sunburnt on your back and how tired you got from it.

Seeing that you aren’t actually mad at him, San lets himself relax again, allowing a smirk to take hold of his lips. He adjusts his position, tightening his hold on you and bringing his mouth back against the reddened skin of your shoulder.

“Would you get angry with me if I said yes?”

The warmth that comes with the brush of his lips against your skin extends to the rest of your body. It doesn’t matter that you are wearing shorts and a rather thin top, with most of your skin exposed for the world to see, because San’s heated touches are making your body temperature go up to the point that you are starting to feel uncomfortable in your own skin.

You shiver slightly when his lips start wandering further away from your shoulder and closer to the side of your neck. You have to move your head to allow him more space and he accepts it gladly, giggling softly into the crook of your neck before delivering several open mouthed kisses to the area.

“You’re cute when you get flustered.”

You can try and blame the sun for the color on your cheeks and the warmth of your skin, sure. But there is no one you can blame for the way your body keeps trembling every time his breath hits your neck. This time you can’t take it anymore.

It’s your turn to bury your face in the pillow.

“Please, stop!” You squeak.

San giggles again at your shy attitude, but still retreats from your neck and offers you a bit of space to breathe and calm down. Or as much space as the bed allows him at least.

You are not brave enough to admit it out loud, but you instantly miss the warmth that his lips provide you with.

“Sorry.”

You slowly turn your head to look at him, trying your best to ignore how your cheeks are still burning up.

“No, no. It’s okay. I just…” Amused by the whole situation, you laugh before you can say anything else, trying to put your thoughts in order before you continue. You can’t decide if San’s gentle strokes on the exposed skin of your waist are helping at all or only making things worse for you, but you push yourself to ignore them and keep going. “I tell you that I burned my back and that my shoulders hurt really bad, and the first thing you do is ask me to have sex with you?”

At your words, San lets out a laugh, his dimples showing. He closes his eyes and lowers his chin to his chest so he can rub the top of his head gently against your shoulder. The mass of smooth black hair shakes with the movement. It is at times like this that you can’t help but be reminded of a big, fluffy cat looking to be petted.

“Okay, I see where I went wrong there.”

When he brings his head back up, he stares directly into your eyes while his soft smile turns into a dark smirk.

“But I mean…” His eyes drop to your lips as he scoots a little bit closer. His lips barely touch yours as he keeps talking, forcing you to drop your very own gaze toward his mouth. “You know I’m never opposed to you riding me…”

Even with San’s lips so close to yours, you have to force yourself to take a deep breath. You didn’t realize that you had stopped breathing completely there, too entranced by his charming aura to worry about something so mundane.

You feel the hand on your waist tighten up for a second before it loosens up again.

“I do love it when you fuck yourself on my dick while I hold your hips so hard there are bruises there the next day.”

His sharp eyes are darker than ever, looking at you in that half-lidded way that never fails to drive you insane.

He is tempting you, to be honest. Tempting you to let go and say yes to anything that he asks of you without second thoughts. Because how can you not when he is giving you a gaze so heated it contrasts deeply with the fondness of his touch? That alone is a dangerous combination that can easily turn into a deadly one if it comes from San specifically. You can handle anyone else, turn them down without hesitation, but never San.

But just when you are about to give in to his proposal, a deafening knock at the door startles the both of you and cuts the tension. Seonghwa’s voice comes from the other side.

“You two better be fully dressed by the time I open this door or I’m not letting you eat even a single crumb!”

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kingdionra · 3 months ago

Text

hi I've been trying to beg on the fediverse for a while but it's not going very well so I thought I would try here as well >.<

putting the teal deer up front, long explanation & images-for-proof under the cut: two traumatised and disabled queers have successfully run away from abuse but now have no furniture or other household essentials, looking for another €4000* or so to get everything we need + get out of our overdraft

GOAL: €1865/4000

throne link

£ paypal: [email protected]

cashapp: £KingDionRa

DM for roommate's € paypal or my UK bank deets to do a straight transfer <3

also if you want you can get an album for your moneys, i have it up for free download on both my site and on bandcamp :3

*this is higher than the original goal I set on fediverse because I'm including the ebike and winter clothes and getting out of our overdraft (which is costing us a bit in fees every month)...but also this still isn't including new computers which we both need lol but this already feels like so much to ask for!

LONG ASS STORY:

okay so over a year ago i ran away from the uk in its entirety to stay with my internet best friend of over a decade in germany, because i'd been in and out of homelessness there for most of my adult life and just kept ending up with abusers (because that's what happens when you jump at the first chance you get to get out of a homeless shelter by moving in with people you don't know), and then running away from them because they tend to get worse and worse and eventually you'd rather be homeless again than live with someone who continually messes you up and ignores your boundaries and lies to you and bullies you and fucks with your health. and yeah after long enough of that i had zero faith in the system to help me or in local queer groups to do so either, because they're the ones who kept finding me white middle class assholes to live with who turned out to be classist ableist racist shitfaces who talked the talk but failed to walk the walk

anyway, this was not an ideal situation because my best friend was living in a very tiny (25 square meters TOTAL) apartment surrounded by asshole neighbours after also only recently escaping homelessness, but we both found our mental health was VASTLY improved by living together (see it turns out we're NOT the problem!! it was the abusers all along!!!!) despite the very cramped living space (we literally couldn't both stand in the kitchen at the same time and it only had a minifridge and a stovetop) and having to share a room despite NOT being a couple and having no privacy

but eventually that situation got worse and worse due to a literal nazi living next door who engraved swastikas in our mailbox and threatened physical violence on us (pretty sure he thought we were a queer interracial couple and was very mad about that), and things came to a head when he repeatedly called the cops on us for being too noisy at night (we LAUGHED TOO LOUD at gone 10pm omg how dare we) and kept trying to get us in shit with the landlord by making up lies about us

SO, we asked the internet (fediverse) for money to move, and managed to get enough to hightail it the fuck out of there (we actually left the country because neither of us like germany it's, surprise surprise, full of nazis) to a very cheap place in very rural finland where we can each have our own room and that we can actually afford the rent on ourselves but, being poor and desperate, we only asked for literally the bare minimum to move, and left asap, and got here with no furniture, no beds, no household necessities, no nothing.

we've been here 2 months now and have managed to acquire one (1) bed that we're having to share (again we are NOT a couple and the lack of privacy is driving us both up the wall) but we still need:

-a second bed so i can actually USE my own room that i finally have again

-bedding (inc. warm things before winter sets in! and additional covers so we can actually put things in the wash)

-winter clothes before it gets too cold

-a washing machine

-desks and chairs so we can actually sit somewhere and work

-a cargo ebike so we can get to the nearest town (7km) and buy food, rather than relying entirely on non-perishables that we can order over the internet (it's been 2 months since we've had any fresh food and that sucks)

-a new phone for roommate cause theirs broke

-a laptop or desktop for roommate cause they have nothing atm

-a new desktop for me because i only have access to an old shitty kind of broken laptop at the minute (one of the hinges is fucked and i can't close or open it without worrying it will break for good and it doesn't charge right half the time and usually takes multiple attempts to boot up and i'm scared every time that this time will be the time that it just Won't), because when i tried to fundraise for a new one like a year ago i was offered this and didn't think i could say no, but i am very worried it will break any day now, and it is Not Good for recording music on or making art or games (you kind of need to run the games to make them....)

current overdraft:

our very empty living room:

my very empty bedroom:

please help us actually get sorted out and set up in our new place, so that we can actually RELAX for the first time in our lives (i'm 35 and my best friend is 38 >.<)

we both really want to actually do good work and help the world, and i have so much creative shit that i want to get on with but that has just been like, put on hold constantly, for *years*. i have so many stories and games and songs and so much art and a whole-ass comic i want to make and just haven't been able to do ANY of it for so long! (i'm keeping track of all my creative ideas in a huge google spreadsheet that links out to google docs full of properly fleshed out plans for things though, so that i can get to work asap!)

we just need a little bit more help to get started and then we will be giving back SO MUCH, i promise! all my content is and will forever be free! so you can consider this an investment in future works that you will definitely all get access to! <3

thank you so much for reading this far, and for sharing and boosting and donating if you can, you're incredible and awesome and very much appreciated <3

#mutual aid #fundraiser #donations #donate #escaping abuse

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giowritess · 1 year ago

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fortnight [2]

gif by @dameronscopilot

pairing | Benny Miller x female!reader [Grace Stratford] summary | you somehow end up pretending to be Benny's girlfriend for two whole weeks. is your heart going to survive that? probably not. warnings | swearing a bit, mentions of certain body parts word count | 1k author's note | to be honest, i have no idea where i'm headed with this fic lol this time, we have some insights into benny's head. love him. english isn't my first language and this wasn't proofread. part one | masterlist | main masterlist

There was one thing in your plan, however, you hadn't accounted for. You'd have to share a bedroom with Benny for the next two weeks, and you were trying not to freak out because of that.

“Left or right side?” He asked, oblivious to what was going on inside of your head.

“Left,” you replied, and he happily tossed his pillow to the right side before plopping down, landing on his side and leaning his face in his palm and looking at you. His cap flew somewhere in the room.

Shit. Fourteen whole nights sleeping by his side. Jesus Christ, your heart definitely wasn’t going to survive.

“If we're gonna do this, we gotta settle a few things,” you said, sitting cross-legged in front of him.

“Shoot.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two. You?”

“Twenty-seven. How long has it been since you left the army?”

“This feels like twenty-one questions,” he said, making you laugh. “Six years. How long have you been in the Air Force?”

“Four years. Why did you leave?”

He looked at the ceiling. “It gets to a point when you just have enough, you know?”

You nodded. Despite loving what you did, sometimes you felt that way, too. “Dad had just died, too, so I had enough,” he added.

You nodded again.

“We need an excuse,” he said. “To why no one knew about us.”

“True. We could say... I don't know, we didn't wanna rush things and preferred to keep it low?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Basic. I like it,” he said and yawned. “I need to take a nap. Carrying all my girlfriend's bags made me so tired.”

He sighed dramatically, making you laugh at his theatrics and the way he said the word girlfriend.

"Oh, shut up, it was just two bags,” you said, throwing your pillow at his face. His beautiful face. He effortlessly batted it away, sending it flying overhead, but, in doing so, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you, his strength making you land on top of him.

The laughter died in your throat when you realized just how dark his eyes were. You were straddling him, a leg on each side of his body and your palms splayed across his chest for support. His body was a rigid mass of muscle under you, your hands itching to travel all around his naked chest. He was so fucking hot, in both senses—the heat coming from him as arming you in all places. He slightly shifted and you went still when you felt the distinct outline of his cock through your clothes. It wasn't hard, but just a roll of your hips, and…

His eyes were boring holes into yours and you wanted to squirm. His hands circled your wrists. You took a breath of courage.

“There's something we didn't discuss”, you said in a meek voice, trying hard to get the words out under the intensity of his gaze.

“What?”

“PDA.”

Your voice sounded more breathy than you wanted it to. He chuckled, his body shaking slightly under you, sending vibrations up your body. You wanted to move so badly.

“I think we already established that won't be a problem,” he replied, and you wondered if he meant today, the heated kiss you shared, or two years ago, that night in his car? “But we can practice if y—”

Before he had the chance to finish the sentence that would make all your dreams come true, three rapid knocks sounded at the door before Maddie's voice came through.

“Grace? Can I come in?”

“Just a second,” you yelled back, you and Benny scrambling to your feet in seconds. “Come in!”

She did. She took one look at you and at Benny and a smirk appeared on her lips.

“Oooh, sorry I interrupted something, but I gotta steal Gracie for a bit,” she said, sitting at the corner of the bed as if she owned it. “Benny, shoo. Go get drunk or go fishing or whatever.”

He rolled his eyes and bent to press up his discarded cap. After putting it backwards—a silly thing, but it made you want to swoon nonetheless—, he pointed a finger at you.

“This conversation isn't over yet,” he said.

All you could do was nod, suddenly unable to speak.

***

Benny wanted to kick Will the moment he saw the grin on his brother's face.

“Shut up,” he said, breezing past him to grab a beer. To hell that it was only two in the afternoon—the day asked for one, and somewhere it was already five pm, right?

“I didn't even say anything!” Will argued.

Benny just raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the kitchen counter in silence, waiting for whatever shit he was going to say

“But I gotta ask. How the hell are you suddenly dating Stratford?”

“It was her idea,” he replied with a sigh. "So I can make Sam jealous. She thinksI want her back.”

Benny accidently forgot to mention that it was Maddie's idea. She must have heard one of their conversations and misinterpreted the whole thing.

Suddenly, the expression on his brother's face turned dead serious. “And do you?”

“Hell no. Not in a million years,” Benny replied, a bitter taste on his mouth just by thinking of dating Samantha again. She left a bad taste for relationships for him, which was why he was single ever since. “You know who I want.”

Who he'd been wanting since she got in their lives, but he was too big of a dumbass to do something about it, even after their one night stand two years ago. And to think that, if it wasn't for Maddie, he'd probably have her exactly where he wanted her right now.

“So? What you waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “To be sure, I guess.”

Will placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes as serious as ever.

“Big brother advice. Don’t screw this up,” he said. He nodded. “If you want her, go for it. Now get over yourself and let's go fishing.”

Benny chuckled, a sudden feeling of resolve surging through his body. He didn't know exactly how, but yeah, he was going for it.

by @reveriesources

➜ part three

#benny miller smut #benny miller fanfic #benny miller x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #will miller #giowritess #garrett hedlund #Garrett hedlund fanfic #writing #fanfiction

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happilybredbellies · 1 year ago

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“Thanks for choosing me mister,” Heather said, smiling up at the man as she opened her jacket to give him a good look at her bikini-clad curves. “I promise you won’t regret it! I’m allllll yours till morning, so just tell me what you’d like to do to this curvy little body of mine first!”

Inside, Heather was trying her very best not to vomit. As a cop, pretending to be a ditzy high-class escort for this snobby businessman was just about the most humiliating thing she’d ever done, but there was no way around it. This man was supposed to have ties to the local cartel, the same cartel that her partner had been looking into when she disappeared close to a year ago. The brass might've written the woman off as dead, but Heather wasn’t about to give up on her friend so easily. While it pained her to resort to playing the part of a prostitute, it was the only way she knew of to get at the files he kept in his penthouse safe.

So Heather swallowed her pride, making sure to keep the vapid smile plastered across her face as she stripped off her clothes and spread her legs wide. This man was nearly twice her age. It shouldn't take long to tire him out, and once he'd blown his load and fallen asleep Heather would have free reign to start snooping around.

“C’mon big guy,” she teased, steeling herself internally, “take me for a spin and show me what you got!”

2 Years Later

Heather groaned, rubbing a hand over her bloated dome of a belly as she plopped down on one of the communal beds she shared with the other cows. Her twins were overdue and had been kicking practically non-stop all week, but that wasn't a valid reason for taking time off work. If anything, the constant stimulation her children provided only served to make Heather more productive, as the dark stains currently forming on her shirt could well attest. The door to their living quarter swung open barely a second after she sat down, revealing one of the cartel’s goons.

“Mornin’ ladies,” he called, gesturing back out the door. “Better get moving. The Boss wants you girls in your pens and pumping as soon as possible today. Word is he’s just snagged another cow for the herd and is looking to give her ‘the tour’.”

Heather stood, grunting with the effort of heaving her gravid figure up off the bed. She made no complaints as she waddled out the door along with a dozen other women, all former cops, all now in varying stages of pregnancy. The businessman Heather’d been looking into two years ago had turned out to be the hidden leader of the cartel, and he had a…unique way of handling any women who got too close to that truth. The memory of Heather’s own ‘tour’ was seared into her mind. She could still remember the terror that’d gripped her heart as the Boss walked her down the rows of pens, letting her see the heavily pregnant women inside squealing in pleasure as industrial grade milking machines pumped streams of sticky white liquid from their swollen tits. But that hadn't been what broke her. Rather, it'd been the sight of her old partner, the very person she’d been trying to save, staring out at Heather with unfocused eyes as she climaxed from labour pains, the head of her child already poking out from between a pair of thick, motherly thighs, that ended up shattering Heather’s fragile hopes for rescue. Well, that and all the aphrodisiacs, fertility boosters, and growth hormones laced into every meal she was given.

Thanks to that cocktail of drugs, Heather’s breasts soon expanded into a pair of proper udders, and it wasn't before she found herself hooked up to a milking machine of her very own. Despite her initial reluctance, Heather ended up settling quite nicely into life as the cartel’s newest dairy cow, enjoying days spent mewling in pure delight as each spurt of milk sent pulses of pleasure shooting up her throbbing nipples. The breastmilk of captive policewomen was apparently quite the hot commodity within the criminal underground, and the Boss’ ‘open pen policy’ when it came to fucking them had made him quite popular, both among the guards and their increasingly needy livestock.

Today, as the men fastened cups around her dark, swollen teats, Heather simply leaned back against the stall and let out a happy sigh, already feeling the pressure in her milf-stuffed tits beginning to ease as she reached around her giant belly to finger her dripping snatch. She didn’t even notice the Boss entering the pens until he was right on top of her, but the slim young woman at his side looking strangely familiar. It took a moment to place the girl, but then it clicked. She’d been one of the station’s newest recruits, fresh out of the academy and always pestering Heather for advice during her last few months on the force.

Now, judging by the horrified look the girl wore as she stared down at the fertile cow her old mentor had become, it seemed as though the girl was starting to regret her decision to follow in Heather’s footsteps. Heather simply smiled up at the slender girl, trying to communicate to her the wondrous future that awaited her once she’d plumped up a bit and finally had a baby or two rounding out that flat tummy of hers. But the smile twisted abruptly, becoming a grimace as there was a sudden pressure between Heather's legs, accompanied by the sound of something splattering onto ground beneath her. Her water had broken.

“Understand? This is what happens to women who stick their noses where they don’t belong.” Boss said, forcing his newest pet to watch as Heather began pulling herself into a squatting position. “That’ll be you in a few months, just another fat breeding cow for my herd, happy to spend the rest of your pumping out milk and babies for the cartel. Don’t worry, the drugs will make sure you end up loving every second of it, even during childbirth.” He turned to Heather. “Isn’t that right, cow?”

The first contraction slammed into her as if waiting on his cue, the pain converted into a wave of indescribable pleasure that washed over her entire body. Heather came immediately, squirting all over the floor as the former policeman let out a long, throaty “Moooooooooooo!”, already feeling the first of her babies starting to slide out of her womb and into her birth canal.

The younger girl tried to recoil in disgust but the Boss just laughed, holding her in place by her hair. She'd soon learn to obey, just like Heather had before her. Like it or not, she was a cow now, a member of the herd, and cows like them belonged on a farm.

#pregnant #pregnancy #preggo kink #pregnantbelly #corruption kink #lactating kink #drugs #birth kink #hucow fantasy #noncon kink

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whumpy-wyrms · 1 year ago

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The Last Lab Rat #10: Alone - part 2

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content: lab whump, captivity, failed escape attempt, parent death mention, starvation, needle mention, animal death (mouse), minor character death, grief and angst, alcohol mention, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional whump, noncon touch (nonsexual), mind control, comfort at the end?, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

hey i know it sounds bad BUT at least Dew gets to eat spaghetti

—

Anton didn’t know what he was thinking. One moment, he was happily walking up the stairs to introduce his mouse friend to his test subject. And the next, he was wallowing in his own misery outside, deep in the dark untouched woods, rain pounding down on his head, clothes getting drenched in mud. Fitting, he thought. He wondered why it always stormed during funerals.

Except Anton didn’t have a black umbrella, or shoulders to cry on and share the pain with. He was alone. It was him, and his strange, glowing green concoction he was drinking out of a flask he found under his floorboards. He didn’t know what it did– it was probably an old experiment from decades ago– and he didn’t know if it would kill him. He just wanted something to ease the pain. Something to make him forget.

And it made him forget all right, but about all the wrong things. As Anton lay sprawled out in the wet grass, drenched in rain, mud and tears, he suddenly remembered that he had somebody locked in his basement. Somebody else he was supposed to take care of and look after. Somebody else that depended on him to survive.

“Shit!” Anton cried. What was he thinking? Leaving Dew alone all day? What time was it? It was dark out, sooner than usual in the autumn month. Anton staggered to his feet, and took another swig of the mystery concoction. He sighed, carded a hand through his messy hair and took one last look at the makeshift grave.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, and started running back to his lab, hearing the crunch of the dead leaves under his feet.

. . .

The door flung open and Anton staggered inside, leaning on the walls and clutching something in his hand. Dew stood, frozen in place as he stared at his captor. He felt like a literal deer caught in headlights, too scared to move or think. He got caught. He got caught. Dew was out of his room, he wasn’t supposed to be here, he was going to get hurt again.

Anton turned his gaze towards his test subject and let out a pained wince as he started to walk towards him. Dew was still hungry. He knew he had no chance of escaping now that Anton was back. There was nothing to do but wait, and hope the scientist would go easy on him this time.

“Dew?” Anton called after him, voice sounding… off. He was holding a clear laboratory flask filled with bright green liquid. It looked half full, and there was some spilled on Anton’s lab coat. Dew thought it was probably another experiment he was planning to test out on him. But none of that mattered now. Anton was back.

Dew fell to his knees in despair, the crowbar falling to the floor next to him. All of those empty threats from earlier were long forgotten and replaced with unfathomable fear. Silent tears fell from his eyes as he sat there, miserable and afraid. He knew it was a bad idea to leave his room, to attempt another futile escape. What was Anton going to do to him now? Take full control of his mind permanently? Erase his memories?

Anton walked closer. “Dewey, I…” He said quietly, voice trailing off. Dew watched as Anton came to a hesitant stop. Dew squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as his captor stood in the middle of the lab. His mind raced with all of the worst possibilities as he felt the seconds tick by and the feeling of being watched only grew. It was so suffocatingly quiet that Dew wandered if he’d imagined Anton entering, if the last few minutes were even real. Finally, Anton said in a small voice, “I’m back.”

Dew opened his eyes, already wet with tears. “Anton?” he squeaked. The scientist was acting so weird. Dew didn’t know what to do. “I… I’m sorry I-I left my room— p-please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered. “I-I’ll be good. I’ll–”

“No,” Anton choked out. “Dew, I…” The scientist walked forward until he was looming over his test subject. Dew let his tears fall freely, shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed and awaited what horrible punishment Anton would inflict on him. “Look at me,” Anton said, gently grabbing his chin and tilting his head upwards.

“Please, Anton,” Dew weeped. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m so hungry.”

“I… I know,” Anton said softly. “I’m um, I’m sorry… okay?”

Dew’s breath hitched, “What?”

“You’re my test subject… I’m supposed to take care of you.” Anton’s voice uncharacteristically wobbled as he talked, and Dew noticed how strange his expression looked… And his eyes. Something was wrong. Something was very fucking wrong. “I’m all you have, you depend on me and I just…”

“Are you… what’s that in your hand?”

“What? Oh. It’s–” Anton held up his strange flask of green liquid. “It’s this- uh– I dunno what it is. I found under the… the floorboards earlier when… It doesn’t matter. I th… thought it would uh… ease the pain I guess.”

“...Pain?”

“You must be hungry, right?” Anton asked suddenly as he let go of Dew’s face and turned on his heel towards the kitchen. Dew shakily nodded his head, and Anton took his hand and pulled him to his feet. Dew’s mind raced as Anton led him to the kitchen area. What the actual fuck was happening?

“Are the lights too bright?” Anton asked.

“Uhm, yeah, a little.” Dew sniffled, trying to calm himself down and stop crying. Anton dimmed the lights throughout the lab so they weren’t too bright, but not dark either. Dew would’ve thanked him if he weren’t terrified for his life.

Once they got to the kitchen, Anton sat Dew down on the couch— he didn’t have a normal table and chairs there, for some reason— and rummaged through the fridge. Dew’s thoughts raced as he sat there, fear making him unable to move, and he didn’t trust his voice not to break out into sobs if he talked. So he didn’t.

Anton left him alone– abandoned him all day with no food or anything, and now he was back acting so incredibly weirder than usual. Dew had escaped his room. He attempted another escape and was caught, why didn’t Anton seem to care now? Was he too distracted to realize? Distracted by what?

Dew held his head in his hands, exhausted and terrified. At least he’d finally be able to eat now. He looked up at Anton, who was starting to make spaghetti and meatballs. Super random. Dew would have preferred maybe a ham sandwich, you know, something that wouldn’t take 25 fucking minutes to cook, but whatever.

Dew noticed Anton’s hands shaking as he tried to pour the noodles into the pot, and was sure he’d accidentally burn himself. Anton’s hands never shook. Dew would know, for all the times his hands carefully and precisely made an injection or incision into his skin.

“I’ll do it,” Dew said, timidly standing up and walking towards the scientist. He didn’t care anymore about being hurt or trying to escape; all he wanted was food. And if Anton wasn’t going to hurt him now, Dew would take advantage of this moment if it meant he could eat sooner.

“No. I’m supposed to take care of you,” Anton said, weakly shoving Dew out of the way.

“Anton, you’re not–”

“Stop talking,” Anton hissed. He took a device from his pocket and turned it on, activating the mind-control.

Dew’s mouth snapped shut, and any attempt to argue was lost. He looked up at Anton sadly, and sat back on the couch. It could be worse, Dew thought. Anton could be hurting him right now, punishing him for escaping, but he wasn’t. And he had no idea why.

So, unable to talk, Dew just watched Anton struggle to cook. He would genuinely like to help, though. It’d give him something to do after doing absolutely nothing all day, and it’d be a good distraction; something familiar, something safe. Something to drown out the terrified worries that wracked his brain, instead of just waiting for something to happen.

It was silent in the lab again, and Dew was strangely content with that now. Anton was back, there was light, but it was dim enough to not burn his eyes, and there was the noise and smell of the noodles and meatballs cooking. He tried to focus on those things— and the fact he wasn’t alone anymore— to calm himself down enough to be prepared for what Anton would do to him for trying to escape again.

Dew noticed as Anton kept nervously checking his watch and taking small glances back at him every few minutes. He was acting so strange, so much more than usual. What had caused any of this? He wished he could just ask.

Anton sighed and leaned against the counter, sliding down to sit on the floor. He took another long sip from that flask and hugged his knees to his chest. His eyes were puffy. If Dew didn’t know any better, it looked like Anton had been crying.

Dew didn’t move a muscle. He stared at his captor with wide eyes from where he sat on the couch, and almost forgot to breathe for a moment. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and the only thing that could be heard was the noodles boiling on the stove.

“Basil died,” Anton mumbled.

Dew furrowed his brows. Basil? He thought. Who… wait, Anton’s pet mouse?

“I was… I was gonna introduce you two to each other this morning. But she was already gone… They were old, it was painless but unexpected for both of us. Those things just happen sometimes. And there’s nothing I could do. And now, now I’m all alone…” Anton’s voice grew quieter until it was almost impossible to hear. “The passage of time keeps going, even if… even if you’re still stuck in the past. Time doesn’t care about who you’ll miss or what you’ll regret or what you wished you would’ve done. It keeps… going. On and on and on forever. Until all you have is yourself and… Dew.”

Dew stared back at him blankly.

Anton looked up. His expression was nothing like Dew had ever seen on him before. He looked sad. It was so surreal. Dew didn’t think Anton could ever feel genuinely sad about something, being someone who’s completely fine with kidnapping and performing unethical experiments on another human being– excited about it, actually. “You… you can talk now.” Anton said.

Dew took a deep breath. He wasn’t expecting that. Any of that. “Is-is that why you didn’t– um, come down here today?”

“...Yeah, it was. I’m sorry for leaving you all alone. I fucked up. But– But Basil was my best friend and–” For the first time, Dew saw Anton cry.

Dew didn’t know how to feel about this. He should be angry, he should be jumping up and stabbing his fork into Anton’s neck and booking it the fuck outta there, never looking back. He should be shouting and screaming, he should be breaking down asking why the fuck he didn’t come down to feed him earlier, why he abandoned him. Why he left him all alone.

Dew did feel like doing all that, but he also felt a strange sense of pity. He knew what it was like to lose someone you loved, hell his friends were probably feeling the same way back home…

That realization made his stomach turn. Nah, Dew thought. Fuck that.

Dew shook those thoughts away, the thoughts that felt bad for the scientist keeping him captive, the person so attached to his so-called best friend, who was a literal mouse. Dew missed his friends too— and they missed him— but Anton didn’t seem to care about that, so why should Dew be expected to care about his captor’s mouse? Why should Dew have to care about anything this maniac was saying to him?

Dew stood. He looked across the counter to the knife block and ran towards it. He didn’t get very far, though. Anton— without even looking up from the ground— grabbed Dew’s ankle in an instant, making him lose his balance and fall to the floor.

The defiance in Dew’s eyes was replaced with utter terror again as he scurried backwards. Anton’s grip on Dew’s ankle became tighter as he dragged him closer, reaching for something in his pocket– probably a needle, Dew guessed.

“N-no, please,” Dew whispered in terror. “Please Anton– I’m sorry, I-I just– please don’t hurt me.”

Anton sighed and released his grip, making Dew fall backwards. Anton closed his eyes, leaning against the cupboards and holding his head in his hands.

“Don’t try anything,” Anton commanded, but his voice sounded more tired than angry. “Don’t try to attack me or escape, just stay here.” Anton saw the look of fear on Dew’s face, which only made him feel worse… Guilty, remorseful, all the things he tried so hard not to feel. But he supposed it didn’t matter now— how he felt. It wouldn’t change the past, it wouldn’t change anything. “And calm down. Relax.”

The second Anton uttered those words, Dew’s body did, in fact, relax. His heartbeat evened out and his breathing slowed. He looked around in displeased contemptment, knowing he should be scared, freaking out, angry, but he wasn’t. Those feelings were still there, but more than anything, he felt calm. Tranquil. It was as if he were sedated, but still wide awake and aware and in control, but calm about it all. It was a strange feeling, one he was oddly grateful for at this moment.

“I know you’re upset with me, okay?” Anton said, trying to make his voice sound at least a little comforting. “You have a right to be, I made a terrible mistake. I should’ve come down here earlier. It’s not your fault. I won’t hurt you.”

The timer on the stove beeped, and the spaghetti was done. Dew stood before Anton could pull himself up, and went straight for the food. He began frantically opening and closing cupboards, looking for the dishes and utensils instead of sticking his hands straight into the pot and burning himself.

“Here,” Anton said, opening a cabinet and handing Dew two bowls and forks. “Give me some too while you’re at it?”

It wasn’t like Dew had a choice, anyway. He scooped the noodles from the pan and filled the bowls to the brim with the tastiest looking spaghetti and meatballs he had ever seen. Dew timidly handed Anton his bowl, and sat back down on the couch.

“Don’t burn yourself,” Anton said as Dew raised a giant spoonful to his mouth. “Wait until it cools down a bit.”

Dew’s arm froze, the food right in front of him, but unable to take a bite. “Come on man,” Dew exclaimed. “Just let me eat, I’m hungry!”

“Fine,” Anton said.

Dew stuffed the spaghetti into his mouth and instantly regretted it. Mouth burning, he rushed to the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water.

“Told you.”

Dew glared at him, but took his advice. He’d let his food cool down a bit. But in the meantime…

“Dew, stop rummaging around in my fridge.”

“Can I at least have an apple?” Dew asked. “While the spaghetti cools down?”

“Fine,” Anton agreed. “But go sit back down.”

Dew thanked him and sat. He didn’t remember the last time an apple tasted this good. Dew was happy to finally be eating, but that didn’t ease the dread he felt.

He didn’t know how he could ever get used to his mind being controlled by a simple command. Anton could control almost everything about him now, what he does, how he feels… he hoped it only went that far. Dew realized he was probably lucky that Anton hadn't taken away his defiance yet, even though he could, so so easily do just that.

A sudden thought occurred to him: why hadn’t he? Surely it would be easier for the scientist for Dew to be a perfectly compliant and obedient test subject. But Dew still had hopes and dreams and a mind of his own. He was still determined to escape. But for what? What did Anton gain from letting Dew be himself?

He decided to not think about this. But still, Dew couldn’t do anything but sit there and wait. He couldn’t try attacking Anton or escape, and he couldn’t burst out in a rage fueled outburst or sob into the couch cushions. Because Anton simply told him not to.

They sat there, Dew huddled up on the couch, and Anton sitting on the floor. The dim, yellow light from the stove, mixed with the taste of spaghetti reminded Dew of cozy autumn nights indoors with his friends. It was that time of year already, and they were probably thinking about the same thing back home.

“I miss them so much,” Anton said. He looked so fucking sad. Dew grimaced. It shouldn’t matter what Anton felt, he was a monster.

“Mice aren’t solitary creatures, Anton.” Dew said as he took a big bite of his spaghetti. “You shouldn’t have kept it alone.”

“No,” Anton began. “Basil was different. She was all but human.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Anton glared at him, and Dew closed his mouth. The scientist rolled his eyes and sighed. “I guess you deserve an explanation…”

When Anton didn’t say anything more, Dew spoke, “...Yeah.” He fidgeted nervously with the spaghetti on his fork. “So, um, are you gonna tell me?”

“Yes,” Anton sighed. He took another drink from that flask and started talking. “It was… around 13 years ago. She was my first um– test subject. I didn’t hurt him, I didn’t want to. But I needed to test something out and I had nobody else to test on– and I couldn’t just clone myself and use the clone as a test subject back then either–”

“Wait, clone yourself?”

“Shut up.” Anton hissed. “So I needed to test something out, and Basil was only a mouse. So I used them for it. And… My experiment worked. She started becoming smarter, like incredibly intelligent for a mouse. And then I invented a device that allows animals to talk, and once again, he was first to try it out. And it worked. And she talked to me. We quickly became friends.

“She wasn’t just a mouse, she had gained the brain capacity of a person. He could think and feel and comprehend abstract concepts and thoughts just like a person can… And their lifespan– that got longer as well.

“They lived for 13 years, Dew. That’s not possible. I made something live longer. And after only a few weeks, she wasn’t my test subject anymore, she was my friend, my animal companion. And uh, he didn’t like that I became friends with every animal I tested on, so that’s when he started letting me experiment on his human test subjects instead of animals.”

“Wait, who’s he?” Dew asked.

“Pierce. The man who raised me into who I am. It doesn’t matter. He realized I couldn’t stand hurting animals so he didn’t force me to. My whole life I followed in his footsteps… He took me in after I became an orphan. He saved me, and taught me everything I know about science.”

“So when I was 12, I started experimenting on human test subjects. It was fun, we had fun. I loved my life and… and then, eight years ago, I met… them.”

“Who’s them?” Dew asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Anton hissed. He only then realized he was probably saying too much. He needed to end this conversation before Dew asked any more questions. “...But Basil was the closest thing they had to anything good in their life. And when they…” Anton’s gaze looked distant, lost in thought. “Um, anyways, Basil was– she was all I had left of them. And now she’s gone. They’re both gone. And, and I’m all alone.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Dew couldn’t help but sympathize with… Basil. She obviously didn’t deserve to die, and Dew felt sad when animals died, it was only natural. He remembered his parents, how he’d tried so, so hard not to think about them the past eight weeks– five years for that matter. It was too painful.

But everything was painful now, thinking about his friends and his life that was taken from him. They were probably missing Dew just as much as Anton missed Basil now, and he didn’t seem to care about that.

But… Dew now knew what he did care about, more than him. “Why don’t you just… bring Basil back to life?”

Anton’s head snapped up, brows furrowing. “That’s unethical,” he said.

“What, did your mouse have a ‘do not resuscitate’ label or something? You do unethical experiments on me all the time! You respect a mouse more than me? Seriously?”

“That's not funny.”

“They’re already dead! Use their body instead of mine! Just bring them back from the dead, that can be your next experiment! You want to invent immortality right? Well there’s your lab rat!”

“Shut up!” Anton hissed. Dew’s words died on his tongue as his mind was taken control over once again. Dew silently glared instead. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. And you’re still my test subject, that’s not changing. Don’t think because now you know a little bit about my past, you can use that to change my mind. I won’t ever let you go. Understand?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

It was quiet again. After they were done eating, Dew put the dishes in the sink as Anton continued to sulk on the floor. This was by far the strangest situation Dew had been in ever since he was brought here. He thought about earlier, about how bored he was. If Anton really was serious about keeping Dew here forever, he must realize Dew needed something to keep him entertained for when he was bored.

“Hey, Anton…?” Dew asked. It was a shot in the dark, but nothing bad could happen by asking. “Re-remember when you said a while ago you might give me back my music? Like my MP3 player and headphones? It-it was just so, so boring being alone earlier with nothing to do and I really feel like listening to music would help me calm down and–”

“You want it back?” Anton asked.

“Y-yeah. If-if that’s okay I mean–”

Anton pondered for a moment. “Yeah, sure.” He stood up and walked to his desk. Dew remembered the mess he made earlier during his stupid attempt to put together a bag of evidence, and hoped Anton wouldn’t get too mad about it. The scientist came back holding a pair of headphones and an MP3 player in his hands. Dew almost felt like he was dreaming again. Almost.

“Here,” Anton handed Dew his things, and Dew felt like he could cry. He’d missed this so much. “It’s not your original MP3 player. I had that and your headphones… destroyed. But I made an exact copy. And these headphones are better than the other ones, with more noise canceling settings and such.”

“Th-thanks. So much.” Dew said.

“Don’t mention it. I should’ve known sooner you’d get bored.”

Dew looked through the MP3 player, happy to find out all of his favorite songs were still there. This was the happiest he’s felt since… since… the vents earlier.

Anton hummed, taking another big gulp of that potion looking thing. “I suppose I should get rid of this, then.”

“Are you sure that’s even safe?” Dew asked apprehensively.

“I dunno. Probably not… But I have ways to heal myself if things go bad. This uh, seems to be working though… numbing the pain and all that… And keeping me thoroughly distracted. I’ll be surprised if I remember any of this by tomorrow.” Anton pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I was an idiot earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“And now, everything just feels fuzzy. Nothing has felt real since this morning, and I’m hoping this’ll all turn out to be a bad dream… But I know it won’t.” Anton looked up to Dew, who was watching him wearily with wide eyes. The scientist tilted his head slightly. “Who knows, Dew, maybe I’ll just erase this entire day from your memory so you won’t have to see me so… vulnerable and sad.”

“P-please don’t–”

“Relax. I’m not like that. I will never mess with your memories like that. Ever. So don’t worry about that. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

Anton sighed. “Anyway, I’m sorry about today. Neither of us wanted this to happen and it will never happen again. I’m supposed to be a genius scientist, not an emotional mess who… who drinks random mixtures of chemicals as a coping mechanism. This is extremely irresponsible and unprofessional… not like I ever cared about being professional, but still.”

Dew nodded, half pretending to be listening to Anton ramble on as he plugged the headphones in and put them on. He started playing his favorite song, but paused it when Anton started talking again.

“Anyway… Basil’s gone.” Anton said. “My best friend is gone, and you’re all I have left.” Dew gulped, this couldn’t be heading anywhere good. “I… I didn’t get to introduce you two, but that’s fine, I suppose. Now I can focus all of my attention onto you, and my experiments. And Dew, don’t think I’ll start going easy on you after this either. …Experiments begin again tomorrow. Anyway, let’s get you to bed, I’m fucking tired.”

“Wait,” Dew said before he could stop himself and think. “I um. I don’t wanna be alone again.”

Anton blinked. “...Okay, uh…” The scientist looked around and picked up a loose chain with cuffs on both ends. “You can sleep out here I guess. Just for tonight.” Anton attached the chain to Dew’s wrist, and cuffed the other end to his own.

“What are–”

“You don’t wanna be alone right? Me neither. I’ll sleep over here. This chain is just to keep you from running away during the night.” Anton grabbed a few blankets from under the couch, and tossed the bigger, fluffier one to Dew. Then he sat back down in his spot against the cupboards and curled up in a ball on the hard floor.

Dew grimaced. Weirdo, he thought. But a sleepover with the scientist was better than being locked back in his room, he supposed. Dew laid down on the couch, snuggling into the blanket. Anton used a device to turn off the lights, and they settled off to bed. Before Dew drifted off to sleep, he gave the chain light tug. It couldn’t hurt to try.

“Don’t even think about it,” Anton mumbled. “I’ll know if you get up.”

“Okay…” Dew said.

“Agh, you know what– just don’t move from that spot until morning.” Anton’s control took hold of his mind once again, and without anything to do, Dew turned on his music and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Dewey.” Anton said, half asleep on the floor. Dew chose not to respond.

As Dew laid curled up on the couch, unable to move, he thought about everything that happened the past day. The vents. The broken camera. The strange science concoction Anton was using as makeshift alcohol to drown out all his problems… the fact Anton didn’t know about the vents.

For the first time, Dew was one step ahead of the scientist; he had an advantage that Anton was completely oblivious to. He had the vents. He had a way to escape that only he knew about, and something Anton definitely wouldn’t be expecting. It was perfect. He could use the notepad he was hiding in his pocket to map out the air ducts, and eventually find the way out. And he’d make his escape during the night, when Anton wasn’t awake to mind-control him. Dew’s new plan could work, it would take a while, but it could actually work and that was all he cared about.

Giddy with newfound excitement and hope, Dew turned his music up, filling his ears with his favorite songs he had missed so much the past 8 weeks. Yes, the past day was hell, and a new kind of torture he’d never want to endure again, but it also presented him with the perfect escape plan.

Besides that, Dew felt like he learned a lot about Anton and his weird past. He hoped that could all be beneficial to him in the future. But he was also filled with so many more questions than answers, and the burning desire to never be alone again.

—

soooo hi! i feel bad about killing Basil off,, originally they just existed as something to develop the story, but then i got kiiinda attached. i have a few au ideas where she didn’t die, or where they’re a tiny borrower science lab assistant, and other stuff like that that i might draw or write about in the near future so yea. besides that, normal tllr chapters with normal experiments coming soon, hopefully not in another three weeks

if ur sad about Basil dying, take this <3 and this :P

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl @catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj @anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

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biggestxsimps · 2 years ago

Text

I Forgive You

Draco Malfoy x Male Reader (Part 2)

A/N: I haven't watched Harry Potter in a while, like I said in Part 1 of this, I’m not aware of everything in the HP universe so let me know if I’ve messed something up and I’ll try to fix it. I haven't written in first-person POV in a while so I hope it’s alright 😭

Part 1: I’m Sorry

Y/N’s POV:

The last couple of months felt like something out of a nightmare, never in a hundred years did I think Death-Eaters would storm into our school. Though I was in danger, I couldn’t help but watch as Draco stood on their side, I still think about it now. How he looked so terrified, so worried as Hagrid brought Harry’s limp body to the crowd. I shake my head. I can’t continue to overthink that evening, I’m in safe hands now, I just hope Draco is too.

I walk into the kitchen, deciding to finally grab something to eat. My eyes fall on the leftovers from last night’s dinner. As I grab the container, I hear a ‘swoosh’ as an envelope falls beside me on the counter. The food now left my mind as I reached for the envelope, something about it seemed familiar. I slowly pull the letter out, quickly scanning the writing, I feel my heart sink at the realization. Why would he be writing to me? I prepared myself before properly reading the words.

Y/N L/N,

I’m aware that I’m, no doubt, the last person you would’ve wished this letter was from, but I urgently need to speak to you.

I don’t wish for your forgiveness; just for you to let me explain everything to you. I feel terrible for leaving you with no reason.

I’ll be at The Three Broomsticks tomorrow evening, if you feel comfortable, please come and see me.

Draco Malfoy.

I felt my heart skip a few beats, no matter the pain that boy had put me through, I still missed him dearly. Now I have a chance to see him again, to talk to him again. My mind wanders back to our previous year, I can’t help but smile at the bittersweet memories, flashes of sharing laughs in the halls to quiet cuddles in our dormitory.

I couldn’t help but toss and turn that night, thinking about talking to the blond boy after what felt like so long.

Timeskip

The day had surprisingly gone by fast, 5pm only an hour away now. I decided to start getting ready, I didn't want it to seem like I dressed up for him, but I still wanted to look presentable. I started with a pair of black dress pants, then slipped on a vest over a white button-up and completed the look with a (Colour) tie.

I walk over to the full-length mirror in the corner of my room, flattening the wrinkled pieces of cloth before taking a few minutes to fix my hair. I glance down at my wrist, only 10 minutes left, I let out a deep breath.

Draco’s POV:

This was a stupid idea, I doubt he’ll show up. My eyes look up at the darkening sky, if he were to show up, he’d be here very soon. I look back at the crowding tavern before taking a second to take a breath. I was ready to talk to him, I had to. I look at the (f/c) rose in my hand, it’s not much, but I hope he’ll like it.

Y/N’s POV:

I can’t help but stare at all the colorful lights and buildings, it had been a while since I walked the Hogsmeade streets. Often coming here with Draco for a butterbeer in the colder months. I sadly smile at that, it feels like a lifetime ago.

I take a longer route to The Three Broomsticks, wanting to soak in the views before seeing the blond boy. A wide grin found place on my lips as I looked at all the parts of Hogsmeade I used to hang out with friends in, small memories passing through my mind at the sights.

I stopped my ogling and checked my watch, I didn’t mean to take as long as I was, time seemed to just fly as I walked around. I shake my head, in the back of my head, I knew that I was just trying to prolong seeing him again, I couldn’t bear the thought of falling back in love with him just as I was starting to move on.

I rushed over to the tavern, not wanting him to wait any longer than he already had. I sigh as The Three Broomsticks make its way into my view, my eyes search around the entrance, stopping on a well-known head of blond hair. I take a second to look over him, his shaking hands holding a (f/c) rose. I feel my heart beat a little faster and my lips tugging up as I start to approach him, his pale eyes lighting up as they see me. Merlin, he was beautiful.

Draco’s POV:

The sound of a familiar pair of footsteps starts to grow louder, I gaze up at the sound, my eyes locking with his. ‘Wow’ The grin on his face making my cheeks flush. He was somehow even more handsome than I remember him being.

Y/N’s POV:

“Good evening, Draco'' I nodded my head towards him, his face reddening. He looks me up and down before opening his mouth, a mix of incomprehensible words tumbling out. “Pardon?” I quietly chuckled. “I-I’msosorrythatIleftyouthewayIdid-” “Woah, woah, slow down.” I smile at the nervous boy in front of me, taking his hand and rubbing my thumb over his fingers like I used to when we were together. “Take it slow, alright?” His body starts to loosen. “I’m here to listen.”

The color on his cheeks starts to deepen as he nods, quickly looking away as he takes a few breaths. He turns back towards me and starts.

Draco’s POV:

I feel my stomach flutter and my knees weaken at his touch, Merlin, I can't focus on anything but his trailing fingers. My head shoots to the side. How am I supposed to talk to him when I can feel my heart beating in my throat? My lungs let out shaky breaths before I ready myself to talk to him.

“I know I should’ve told you back then, and it was foolish of me not to,” I start. “I just didn’t know how to tell you everything and how you would’ve reacted to hearing it. I trusted you dearly, but I was still afraid you’d hate me and see me as a monster for what I had been forced into.” I feel my voice waver and pause for a second, continuing after I collect myself. My eyes quickly glanced into his own, watching as they pinched in understanding.

“I knew that if we were close, you wouldn’t be safe. Not with everything going on, not with all the eyes on me. I meant it when I said I did it for your safety, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you forever because I was too selfish to let you go first.” A long sigh leaves my lungs. “I- I just wanted to keep you out of everything, avoid putting you through the terrors I had seen.”

“I’m so sorry I hadn’t told you back then, I truly wanted to, I hope you can forgive me.”

I stop, a deep breath bringing my speech to an end. I yelped as I was pulled into an embrace, Y/N’s coarse hands rubbing circles against my back. My eyes start to water ‘Merlin, how I missed this, him.’ I dug my head into his shoulder, the cloth soaking up my tears as his cologne filled my mind.

Y/N’s POV:

I couldn’t stand to see him like that, so conflicted, like he was last year. His eyes started to well with tears, and I just couldn’t resist pulling him into me, holding him like I always used to. My hands rubbed along his back as his face fell onto my shoulder, I loved holding him like this. My hand reaches for his cheek, pulling it up to see his face, his eyes hazily glancing back up at me.

“Of course I forgive you, Draco; there’s nothing you could ever do to make me feel even the slightest bit of hatred for you.”

“I- Really? You forgive me after all that happened.”

“Yes, if I’m being honest, there is not a waking moment when you are not on my mind; you haunt my every thought and dream. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you now that I have you again.”

“Y/N”

“Yes, Draco?”

“Do you think we could try this again? Us? I won’t let anything come between us now.”

“I’d love to, Dear.”

Draco’s POV:

I can’t help but swoon at the name, I’m so lucky to have him back. All those months of planning and fear were worth it in the end; I was in his arms, and he had no intent on letting go. As I now become more aware of my surroundings, I feel the rose I had paid so little attention to in my hands, the couple stray thorns pricking me.

I carefully back away from his chest, instead standing half-an-arm's length apart from him. His hands now resting on my lower as I bring the rose up to his view. His smile widens impossibly larger at the flower, freeing his hand and grabbing the (f/c) rose before placing a small kiss against my forehead “You remembered” I meekly nod “You haven't left my mind either.”

“Since we’re already here, what do you say we make the most of it and hang out like we used to?” My eyes light up as I look up at that. “You asking me out on a date?” I giggle. “You said it, not me.” I accept the offer, and he takes my hand and brings me into the tavern we were standing in front of. “Butterbeers on me.” He grins before opening the doors.

Y/N’s POV:

It had been a couple hours, but it felt so much longer. Being able to talk to him like this again, treat him like my lover again, I couldn’t stop the smile that forced its way onto my face. My eyes wandered his frame, I took in everything I had been missing for the past few months. His silky blond locks to his inviting grey eyes, to the dust of red on his pale cheeks, to the unique marks littered amongst his skin, and finally landing on his plump lips. He was truly gorgeous.

He must’ve noticed me staring, because his ears also start to blush, I place a hand on his thigh, moving my face towards his. His eyes flutter closed as we share a long awaited kiss.

Draco’s POV:

My heart nearly beats out of my chest at the connection; it was everything I hoped for, the kiss just as loving as it used to be. I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed my waist before breaking away. “It’s getting late; would you like to come home with me?” His hand reaches for my own, fingers dancing upon my palms.

“I’d love to.”

A/N: This somehow ended up being 3x the length of Part 1, idk how I did it. I hope it’s comprehensible, I haven't proof-read it. Thank you to @sotvs-luv for requesting the part 2 to this. (I’m unsure if you wanted to be tagged so if not, let me know and I’ll take it out!)

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

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goodchristiangirlx · 2 months ago

Text

Duty Whispers - chptr. 2

warnings: oral !F receiving, !p in v, tipsy sex?

A/N:hope you enjoy this little halloween special hehe

—————————————————————

yr2 Oct 1722

“What?’’

“What do you mean what? This is the first I’ve heard about it.” you retort.

Jane glares at you through an opened mouth and furrowed brow. Despite your two year friendship and tendency to share everything with each other, she conveniently forgot the 141s Halloween party. Tonight.

“Well you have to get a costume. We’re going.”

“Who’s gonna be there?”

“Everybody. Even Ghost.” she nudges your elbow. "after i said we were both going he said, 'turns out im free.' I mean, c'mon."

“Jane there’s nothing going on there, I mean it. He’s the LT it could never happen anyway.”

“Well who do you think organized all of those pairings for the missions? You think that overnight trip - alone - was because you’re the most skilled?”

“Fuck you” you laugh. You and ghost had become closer over the last year, his guidance on missions turned into partnership on long stakeouts. You really thought he had opened up, even just a little. He had taken off his mask for you, for gods sake.

You slump back into the canteen chair and wrack your brain trying to remember what miscellaneous clothes you have slumped into your dresser.

“Fine, i'll go. But I’m using your straighteners.”

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2106

Your heels clack and through the thin hallway. The bar is already bustling with Halloween music and low chatter. As the music becomes louder and clearer the orange lit room comes into view, dark figures hunched over the bar and side tables. You try to shove your dress down a little further but it just bunches up again.

You walk over to the only figure boring enough to not dress up. “what’s your excuse for no costume then, ghost?”

“The mask is enough. And what are you supposed to be?”

“Uhm,” you point to the mini wings on your back. You had found an old white dress and Jane lent you the wings. The dress was definitely meant for your body 2 years ago, but not now. The straps stretched across your toned back and the hem hugged your things, clinging to the muscle that wasn’t there before. It made you look good. Just too good for a task force function. “hmph. Cute” he murmurs, staring into his whiskey glass, spiraling the ice.

Soap approaches the bar and leans over on one arm, looking at you, hair gelled back like wolverine. “What’re you drinking, angel?” he coos, looking at your wings.

you let out a small laugh showing your teeth. “nothing, yet. I just got here.”

“Well that has to change, doesn’t it?” He grins. Before you can reply, he’s called over the bartender and ordered rum and coke for the two of you.

“Cheers to the start of your second year here. And cheers to your first Halloween with us. ‘Mon ghost, raise your glass.” He reluctantly listens and the three glasses clink infront of you. You take a mouthful and let it fizz in your mouth before swallowing.

‘Thriller’ starts playing over the speakers and your eyes widen. Soap notices, sets his drink down and offers a hand, inviting you to dance. As you get up ghost’s neck cranes and follows you as you trail Soap.

You move back and forth to the rythym as soap snakes behind you, laying a hand of your hip swaying with you. His touch light, and playful. You fight your gaze away from the bar, seeing ghosts mask aimed at you. Jane dances her way towards you, taking your arms and pulling you from soap. You two dance and spin eachother, laughing and clapping to the beat.

As the song slows, you make your way to the bathroom and press some water to the back of your neck. Why was he staring at you? And why was he being grouchy with soap? Weren’t they close? He’s such a child. These thoughts swirl around your head as you walk through the hall once more, only this time the exit is blocked. “Excuse me, lieutenant.”

“What d’you call that, then?” he spits out, ignoring you.

“Excuse me?” you repeat in a more violent tone, already defensive.

“Wearing this? Dancing like that?”

“Oh come on. You’re being unfair. God forbid i dress up for once, try to have fun after these past few months.” You suddenly become hyper-aware of the skin across your chest and shoulders, bare and burning from his gaze.

"Jesus - you know," he drops his head to your ear, your back pressing into the cool brick wall. "for being so smart, you can be so dense sometimes."

"What then? Why are you here?"

"I'm here for you."

His hand moves to your waist. "And something tells me McTavish isn't who you've had your eye on, either." His gaze returns upwards, to your lips. Surrounded by black, his long eyelashes making his greedy desperation look almost innocent.

Your hands and eyes trail upwards towards his neck, where you slip your thumbs under his mask, but you don't lift it. "May I?"

He softly grunts, almost moans, in response before you hook it above his nose. His lips are slightly parted and the scar across them has left a line through his stubble. You move a thumb across his lower lip while he holds your chin up, forcing eye contact before he leans down and kisses you.

You can feel the scar against your lips but it doesn't make the kiss worse, he's too good of a kisser for you to care. You're both panting and squirming, hands roaming mindlessly before he breaks the kiss, to your disappointment. "Can we go back? To the barracks?" he whispers to your lips. You nod. "How will we leave together?"

"You'll tell jane you dont feel well, and i wanted to leave anyway."

You laugh, almost wondering if this was premeditated. "Okay then, i'll meet you at your car."

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The tension of the car ride home means as soon as the door to his room locks, he has you pressed against it, lifting his mask once more. His hands glide from the back of your neck to your breasts and lower back, then your ass as he gets onto his knees, looking at you like a doe.

He gently unclasps your heels and you slip out of them. His hands curve up your thighs again and bunch your dress together as he lifts it over your hips. His nose tickling as it drags up towards your core. He plants a soft kiss that sends a shiver up your spine and makes your eyes close, then he's kissing you, guiding you backwards to the edge of his bed.

He's kissing below your ear as you reach around his back to lift his shirt off. As he pulls back he lowers himself to the floor and places a hand on your knee, spreading your legs. He presses a thumb to your clothed clit and hums as it turns darker.

A finger hooks the band and pulls the panties the whole way off. Your back arches as his lips make contact with your core, licking striaght up your slit and making circles around your swollen bud.

The rumble of his responses to your moans vibrate through you as the room fills with the filthy sounds of your pleasure.

A hand finds its way to his head, pushing down and grabbing at the mask that's adding to the sensory overload as he's making out with your cunt, fabric making your hips buck into him further.

"fuck Ghost mm-gonna-" you pant as he presses a thumb to your clit, cutting you off with a moan due to the sudden build up of pressure in your stomach. He presses further into your hips and they jump back, Ghost continuing to lick up your slick as you ride out the orgasm.

He brings you back and places a pillow under your hips and keeps a grip on your knees, keeping them open for him as he rubs himself sloppily through his cargos and slips on a condom. You reach forward to help him with his button and he kisses the sweet spot of your collar bone. As your head hits the mattress again, he’s already teasing himself by running his tip lightly through your folds.

As he inserts himself and begins to thrust you notice that he begins to quicken his pace sooner than you expected, in the low light levels you almost think you can see a slight flush of his cheeks before he looks across to the wall.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he grunts before whispering under his breath something about ‘better than he pictured you’ right as he slams into your g-spot making you both moan simultaneously. You loved how he reacted to you, your walls quickly accumulating for his size.

“Fuck I’m not gonna- last much longer”

“Nng I can’t- Simon I can’t…”

“Say it again, louder.”

“Simon, I need this.”

His thrusts become careless and messy but quicker until he spills into the condom and you feel a slight temperature increase in your core. You’ve never experienced orgasming at the same before, how intimate and amazing it is to come off your high completely synced. Ghost slowly pulls out of you as he’s leaning down and kissing you behind your ear again, lavishing in your fingers through his hair like a dog.

“Can I use your shower?” You finally speak, disturbing the silence.

“Yeah go ahead, towels are in the wardrobe.”

As you’re grabbing the towels, Ghost is gathering his and your clothes that have been strewn across the floor. He pulls his mask over his nose again and saying, “This uh,” he clears his throat. “I don’t do relationships. This cannot happen again and I- I’m sorry if I gave the wrong impression or-“

“Okay.” You respond, without turning around. “I agree, this can’t continue if I’m to be promoted etc, and frankly, respected. Glad we’re on the same page.” You smirk and close the bathroom door and by the time you’re out of the shower, the room is empty and your clothes are folded at the edge of the bed. You’re not surprised.

A/N : v v sorry this took so long, I’ve got an idea for the next chapter though, so hope it’ll be out sooner. Happy Halloween honeys!

#ghost #ghost x reader #smut #cod #kinktober #military men #ask me anything #male moan #god help me I love a man that moans

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casspurrjoybell-26 · 1 year ago

Text

Made of Steele - Chapter 34 - Part 2

*Warning: Adult Content*

Kit

I watch Jamie re-wrap a towel around his waist and then come over to me, his beautiful dark gray eyes captivating me with a single glance.

"I have patience, just not for things I want."

Just like that, I'm falling deeper and deeper in love with Jamie Steele, as if it couldn't get any worse than it already has.

I can't help myself from feeling so incredibly lucky it is me that gets to be with him, to see him like this, to make him this happy, it's a big feeling that I hope never goes away.

Like a puppy, I follow behind him and into his bedroom as he starts picking up the clothes he laid out to dress into for tonight's Christmas dinner that we were hosting together.

Although I'd admit to being worried about tonight, I instantly became calm when I saw Jamie's face because I knew that even if tonight went bad, we would be good and that's all that mattered.

A month ago, I was stabbed in the stomach and it was the best thing to ever happen to me because if not for that, I would've never had the courage to do what I have always wanted to do.

I gave my brother CEO, I ended ties with everything relating to my father's company and most of all, I am in the process of moving to America, to be closer to Jamie and to make our relationship stronger.

The news of my departure wasn't lost on my family after being told that I was in love with a man and uprooting my 'life' to go be with him and... it made them furious.

Yet, it's been weeks now and my family, especially my mother, has come to accept that if they want to be in my life, they will have to always expect Jamie right by my side.

I had made my intentions very clear, Jamie was what I wanted and after ending my engagement with Jessica and my business deal with her father, I felt like that weight my father put on my shoulders had disappeared, making me feel like a whole new man.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me?" Jamie asked as I blinked and focused on his eyes.

Was I staring?

Sometimes I just can't help myself.

He's just so damn beautiful.

"I was just thinking."

I smiled at him, watching as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Second thoughts?" he said cheekily, making me laugh.

"Not even for a second," I scoffed, as I put my hand in my pocket to nervously touch the contents inside.

My heart was beating so fast I thought that any minute I'd blurt the words I so desperately wanted to say out loud but the look on Jamie's face made me hold back, as he sat on the edge of his bed whilst he put his socks, then shoes on.

Since the moment I opened my eyes in that hospital room, I knew what I wanted, I wanted to be with Jamie, for however long who knew but one thing I did know was that there was no life for me without him.

I had been carrying around an engagement ring in my pocket for a week now, whenever we went I would carry it with me, hoping for the right time, any time, to just say the bloody words out loud, to get it off my chest.

I knew we were young and Jamie had his whole career ahead of him, being a very successful and creative painter, I knew that marriage would be a game changer in his life.

I didn't buy the ring to tie him to me but because it was the only thing I could do to show him just what I was willing to give and to share with him, if he was willing to also do the same.

I knew he loved me too but the fear of him turning me down because of how soon it was, was almost too much to bear.

So I held my tongue and watched him stand up, fully dressed and looking straight at me and to me, Jamie was the sexiest guy I have ever seen in my life.

He stared at me and for a moment I saw a panic swirl in his eyes as he opened and closed his mouth but no words came out.

Was he having second thoughts?

"Jamie..."

"Move in with me," he blurted out so loudly, it was almost a shout.

My eyes go wide as I stare at him, his face turning a beautiful shade of pink as his eyes try desperately to hold focus with mine as my heart beats rapidly in my chest as the words ring in my ears.

"I was going to ask earlier... but with dinner and stuff..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now blushed red.

"Our family knows... we're dating and with my studio being in the city, it'll save you time and money to buy an apartment, plus we'll see each other more so we won't have to constantly travel just to..."

"Yes."

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried, once I wrapped my arms around Jamie, there was no ever going back to how things were, this was how things were always meant to be.

"I love you, of course I'll live with you."

I bit back a laugh, as Jamie's timid hand rested on my back, as I noticed the tip of his ears red.

He was nervous about asking me to live with him... which only made me want to hold him more and tighter, for as long as physically possible.

How does he do this to me?

It makes me so happy that I wonder if I had ever felt this fulfilled in my entire life before I met him.

"Ugh."

He turned away from me, hiding his face.

"Don't be weird about this," he mumbled, making me laugh out loud.

I knew then that I had no reason to be scared about waiting to 'pop' the question to Jamie because it could be tonight, a week or a year from now and I'd still know that he'd be mine and I would be his.

Just then, as I touched the ring in my pocket, there was a loud knock at the front door to Jamie's studio, making us both look at each other, knowing that it was either mine or his family.

"Are you ready for this?" he tiredly said, with a small smile on his lips as he put his hand on my arm.

Ready?

Hahaha...

"I'm ready for anything, as long as I'm with you."

Jamie laughed and then shook his head and with one last kiss before we went and opened that door for our family, we enjoyed that moment of silence that we shared and like that, I removed my hand from my pocket and interlocked my fingers with Jamie's.

"Let's go."

This was the new beginning of life together and we knew that as long as we were together at the end of the day, that was enough.

That was how it should be, for as long as we loved each other, we were made of steel and nothing could break us apart.

The End

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fleurcareil · 1 year ago

Text

Leaving Canada

After finishing the road trip, the last 2 weeks of September were a whirlwind of activities to sort out things and say goodbye one more time before leaving the country. Although I may have benefited from staying a bit longer, having been on the road for so long made me ready to close off this phase and look forward to the next one, going back home to Europe! 🤩

First priority was to clean everything that I had been traveling with (with thanks to lots of space and a garden hose😁) and then figure out what to put into storage and what to bring as luggage. Initially my intent had been to travel straight from France to Chile, however due to exorbitant one-way air fares, I ended up booking a return ticket back to TO for mid-January.... not sure how this is all going to work out but for now it means that I'm only travelling with one suitcase instead of the 3 that I had already pre-packed. Easier to carry but harder to fit my clothes! 😅

Second key item was to get my car sold, so I got the car deep cleaned over lunch with Tara... something I've never done but should really have given myself as a gift much earlier! 😄 I thought the guy had done a great job at making my car look brand-new again, but he actually apologized to me as he hadn't managed to remove all bug residue from the grill nor the grit of the endless unpaved roads from the tires...the downfall of such an extensive road trip!

That afternoon, 3 accidents on the QEW highway meant that traffic was jammed for miles around, so I tried to wait it out by visiting the first 2 car dealers to get a sense of their offer... suddenly everything seemed wrong with my fab drive, as it needed new tires, new brakes, a chip in the window etc etc... 😯😪 I recognize the sales tactics for what they were but they still pulled me down, so by the time I got back home after taking 1.5 hours over a 20min drive, I was shaken & thoroughly fed up!

Next day, I toured a few more dealers who all basically said the same and then just cut my losses to get it over with (I must be the worst negotiator on earth! 🤣) ... I absolutely have had an amazing time driving my Rogue and I still loved everything about it, but it was time to say goodbye and move on.

Being a bit emotional after signing the papers, I drove by my old house in Burlington (where the new tenants are neglecting the pretty roses I had planted 😣) and then sat on my favourite bench in Paletta Park overlooking Lake Ontario. A mere 10 minutes' walk from where I used to live, I would often come here over my lunch break or after work, a great spot to relax! 😊

Next day, after having handed in the car & safely deposited the cheque at the bank, I was happy to go over to Priyanka & Arnie for a traditional Hungarian dish and meet again with their lovely parents. I first met Priyanka's parents at our MBA graduation over 10 years ago and we've been in touch ever since, having shared many dinners (including with my parents and in Delhi 🤗), theater plays, a powwow and ofcourse the wedding in India! 😍😍

On Friday, I spent hoouuuurs on the internet and phone to arrange anything from bank accounts & medical insurance to booking flights for my travels in Europe. Felt good to clean house and try to close as many things as possible before leaving. In the evening, we had delicious pizza & craft beer in the "Shed" in downtown Dundas.

That Saturday, it was fun times at the Ancaster Fall Fair with Arpita, Navneet and his cousin Nithia. 🤩 I had never been to a farm fair, which had everything from a hot sauce contest, cow & chicken displays to nitro-chilled snacks and prizes for the prettiest tomatoes, hay bales and funny-looking veggies! 😂 Quite an experience and a great afternoon!

On Sunday, I went with Heather for a hike in nearby Dundas Valley conservation area, my favourite forest west of the GTA. I've been here so often that I know most trails by heart but this time we walked in from a residential area on the side so that the forest still felt new. 😀

I spent the second week in Toronto where I lived for 11 years - my personal record of living that long in one city! 😊 - and it felt really good to roam the streets (albeit only for a short period of time before the craziness got to me 😫). For four days I crammed in as many friends as I could see, starting with a great backyard dinner with my old team. Having 9 different cultural backgrounds being represented leads to ever-interesting diverse conversations! 😍

On Tuesday, I had cozy lunch and dinner with my two good friends Kathryn and Lynne, both a bit senior to me hence always providing me with valuable insights that help me put things in a different perspective. 🥰 They're both great examples of how we can continue to have fulfilling lives for many years to come! 😘

Then on Wednesday, a lunch walk with Dana through my old 'hood and the Riverdale Farm, followed by relaxing tea with Natasha, Lance and their mother who I've also known since coming to Toronto and by whom I spent a memorable Christmas in Trinidad & Tobago. 🤩 In the evening, the drinks were tasty as usual when meeting with a loosely connected 😅 but somehow gelling group of Real Estate friends... always a good time!

On my last day in Toronto, I caught up with Harvey over Indian Roti and then had a few lovely hours at the new Love Park at the harbourfront. My final date was with my camping-sailing-drinking group of friends 😎 at the Queen Mother Café, a downtown thai restaurant where I used to go often in the first years. We're all a bit wiser (?!? 😂) then when we first met years ago but the laughs are still there!

Tired & having a terrible cold but feeling blessed with all those friendships, I made my way back to Dundas, where I was grateful to spend the last day with Arpita and Navneet, working a bit in the garden and playing the cool card game Dominion at night.

On the 30th September, they dropped me off to the airport, ready to fly home! 💖💖💖

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thehighpriestess22 · 1 year ago

Text

Please message me if you're going through the same thing, I don't have many people in my life that I can talk to about this as they've already got children. I need a little emotional support and I'll be yours if you need some too.

For God knows how long, I've been suffering with broodiness and at times, the feeling is so extreme that I fall into a depression period and it takes me quite a bit of time to pull myself out of it.

Near enough all of my friends and family members have babies so it's hard to talk to people about how I'm feeling, and when I do, they tell me to ''accidentally'' fall pregnant with my boyfriend which I don't have the heart to do so as he wants to move out into our own place and make sure we're financially stable before we start having a baby, and I agree that's the wisest thing for us to do.

But it doesn't stop the yearning to fall pregnant, experiencing that baby grow, and seeing them for the first time after they're born. I'm dying to see what they look like, whether they're blonde like their father, with blue eye or if they've got brown hair and eyes like me.

I want to know if anyone else is feeling this way, or have felt this way... just to know that this is normal for a woman and that I'm not alone.

I have wish lists full of baby clothes and accessories, and I keep looking at different push chairs and baby furniture along with thinking about different baby names.

My cousin is 8 months younger than me and she had her first baby at a really young age, and then she had another baby just over a year ago. Her and her partner said they're not having anymore babies as he has 2 from his previous relationship and 4 is enough now. 6 months ago, we were discussing baby names and I said that I'm in love with the name Isabella and if I have a baby girl, that's the name I would probably choose. Last year, we found out she was pregnant again and just after Christmas, she found out she was having a girl this time. Yesterday, I went around to see her and the kids, and as I'm about to leave to go home, she says she's calling her Arabella which hurt me quite a bit as it's so similar to the name my heart was set on for my own daughter. I know it's not the end of the world and I could still call my daughter that if I did have a girl, but I feel like it would be second best and it would be shared identity - does that makes sense?

Please message me!

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flightsoffandom · 3 years ago

Text

New Normal

Pairs: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader, Steven Grant x Fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Words: 8770

Summary: You woke up in a different universe and have to figure out how to put the pieces of your life back together.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, angst? Trauma, dealing with trauma and descriptions of panic attacks (based on my experience with panic attacks) POV switches all over the place because I think it helps tell the story. Sexual references but no smut. Not an accurate representation of DID, basing it off the show’s depiction.

Notes: Female reader, as per Anon’s request, Spider-Woman!Reader. As per warnings, POV switches all over the place. Hopefully, they aren’t too confusing.

Continuation of Life As You Know It - Part 1 - Part 2* - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

You walked next to Marc, his hand in yours. You were laughing about something grouchy he said. He was annoyed about it a moment ago. But the second you laughed, Marc couldn't help but crack a smile as well. You gently tugged on his hand, “Come on, I know how to cheer you up.” Marc eagerly trailed behind you, “Oh really?” You could already feel his eyes on your ass and you laughed again, “Not that you perv.” Marc let out a playful grumble. You rolled your eyes and glanced back at him, “We'll do that later but for now. Something else.” Marc smiled and gave you a nod, “Definitely fucking you later.” You winked at him before tightening your hold and continuing to lead him. You turned down an alley and away from the people in the streets, “Trust me, Spector?” You stopped moving and turned around. Marc took both your hands into his, “More than anyone else.” You couldn't help but blush. Smiling at him, you grabbed him around the waist, which caught him off guard. Before he could say anything, you pulled one hand away and then shot a web up. With Marc secure in your arm, you pulled both of you up quickly and onto a nearby highrise.

When you landed, Marc let out a gasp, “Jesus Christ!” You chuckle, “Come on, you fly all the time with your cape, it’s not that different.” Marc’s eyes were still wide, walking over to the edge and looking down below, seeing how far up you brought him, “It’s different. When I do it… It’s… I’m…” He was at a loss for words and you gently grab him and pull him back into you, “You're in control?” Marc nods and you smile before kissing him softly. Marc deepens the kiss and you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. When you finally need to breathe, you pull away, “I would never let anything happen to you… Any of you.” You look up and meet Marc's eyes, sharing a serious look for a moment. Marc smirks and chuckles, “That is supposed to be our line.” You laugh, your eyes crinkling, “Too bad. I said it first.” Marc lets out a playful growl, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you down onto the rooftop. You squirm a bit, giggling the whole time, “Marc, I didn't bring us up here for this.” Marc groans and kisses you, “What are we up here for then?” You nudge him with the palms of your hands, “So we can look at the stars together.” Marc willingly rolls over onto his back and stares up at the sky with you.

After a few minutes, Marc wraps an arm around you and pulls you in close to his chest. You smile, kissing his chest three times, “I love you.” You go back up to look at the stars for a few more moments, but when Marc doesn't respond, you turn to look at his face, “Hey, mister. I’m talking to you. I love-” Your words die in your throat when you see Marc’s face. Covered in blood, with no more light in his eyes. You shake him, “Marc.” With each call of his name, the scenery changes.

The skyline falls away, “Marc. Answer me!” Marc’s clothes become drenched in his blood, “Marc!” His clothes change into his Moon Knight outfit, “Marc!” The city around you fades away, “Marc… please…” Tears well up in your eyes and start spilling out uncontrollably. You look around for help and you no longer find yourself in the city among the rooftops. You are in a large metal room. You look back down. Marc’s body is on a dissection table. You place your hands on Marc’s cheeks. They are cold to the touch and that is when you completely lose it. You remember that this happened. That Marc is dead. You promised to protect them and they all died. You curl into his chest, screaming. Preying to anyone who will listen that this is just some fucked up nightmare and you will wake up in your lover's arms.

You wake up sobbing, barely able to breathe. The beeping of monitors is the first thing to come into focus. That was a nightmare… but only a nightmare of what happened to you. They were dead, and you were now alone. Thrown into an alternative universe stuck in a hospital.

Apparently, you had been out for a few weeks. The doctors mentioned that you should have died. You assumed you didn't because something about your powers probably saved you. You healed faster than normal people. You didn't know how to feel. You didn't know what to do. Your life was destroyed, ripped away from you and now you were just expected to start a new life as if nothing happened. The only comforting thing about that was that half the world was in the same boat. The blip had taken half the universe away and five years later they were suddenly all back. So, as fucked up as it might sound, you felt better that you weren't alone in some sense. After the hospital, you had nothing except your blood-stained superhero suit and a sling ring. You looked at the suit and looked at the three crescent moons. They used to be white, but they were now brown with a mixture of your and Marc's blood. The hospital was nice enough to give you regular clothes.

As soon as you got a chance, you burned your suit. Hoping that in some way, it will be cleansing or freeing. It didn't exactly make you feel better. Watching the flames devour the last part of your old life. You wished you had pictures of them or something. Your eyes stung as you watched the flames. You collapsed next to the fire you made, uncontrollably sobbing as the last thing physically tethering you to your old life and their deaths went up in smoke. You kept the sling ring just in case. Maybe you would take up practicing again when you were ready. Maybe you wouldn't. Seemed silly to burn something you had no genuine connection to. So you shoved it into your pocket. You went and tried to start a new life.

This universe's Khonshu felt you the second you arrived. He was curious about you. You did not belong here, but you were marked by him. And for a while, you didn’t seem to move. Then after weeks, he felt your presence relocate around New York City. Khonshu had to keep track of you. You were marked for a reason, even if you were not marked by this version of him. So Khonshu sent his Avatar to keep tabs on you. He sent Jake Lockley to monitor you and hopefully recruit you to his cause of protecting the travelers of the night.

You were walking down the street, making your way to one of the government-run stations for people who got caught in the blip. You felt bad for signing up for it, but they didn't exactly have government assistance set up for people who were universally displaced. Not like you could tell anyone that anyway, or that they would believe you.

You get through the line surprisingly quickly. You have a slight hiccup when they realize you have been listed as dead for over five years, closer to ten years, actually. But luckily, with everything going on, they just assume it's a typo and you get some help before leaving.

Jake watches you step out of the building. He looks back at Khonshu, "You're having me follow some lady that came back from the blip?" Khonshu shakes his head, "She is not of this world." Jake doesn't fully understand but honestly, it's not his job to understand so he just nods. Jake starts following you, from a safe distance. When you turn down an alleyway, Jake follows, but you are gone. There was nowhere you could have gone unless you could fly. And now Jake was assuming you were an alien since you weren't 'of this world' and how many aliens had visited the earth over the last few years. It would just make sense. Jake mumbles off Spanish curses under his breath as he looks back at Khonshu, "Where the fuck did she go?" Khonshu chuckles, "Tricky little arachnid, she is close by." Jake pays no mind to Khonshu's wording. Jake jogs off and tries to track you again.

You stand on the top of the building looking down at the man quickly looking around for you in a flat cap. You were the one who first gave Jake a flat cap, saying it would make him look cute. He started wearing them after you gifted him one. But now this other Jake was wearing them on his own. Which hurt. You don't know why it hurt, but it did. It made the gift in your universe seem pointless. He would have found his style, whether or not you were in his life. So you backed away from the edge of the building and fell backward in tears.

Jake couldn't for the life of him find you. So he stopped and asked the bird for help. To which Khonshu just pointed up to the roof of a building. Jake groaned and went inside, taking the only stairs up to the roof. Jake finally gets to the roof, where he sees you, across the street. There was no way in hell you got all the way down the fire escape and then up onto that other building's roof in the time it took him to climb some stairs. Jake started cursing again as he stared at you.

Seeing Jake following you made you cry harder. You couldn't see, so you used the only thing you had on you. With your sling ring, you opened a portal and walked through it. When the portal closed behind you, you blinked the tears out of your eyes to see where you were at. You froze in place as new tears took over your eyes. It was your fault you ended up here.

You kept thinking about wanting to go home and be safe. So, of course, the sling ring took you to your apartment. Except it wasn't your apartment in this world. It was vacant, empty, just like you felt. You slide to the ground, sobbing. This didn't smell like your apartment. This wasn't the same apartment you had asked Marc, Steven, and Jake to move into with you. This wasn't the apartment where Marc had bandaged you up after a particularly rough fight while you made a joke about being holy now because of all the bullet holes you had in you. This wasn't the apartment where Jake had fucked you against the window after you spent all night teasing him while you fought crime. This was the apartment where Steven very professionally practiced for his job interviews, you hyping him up and telling him if they didn't hire him, then it was the business's loss.

This wasn't your universe, and you hated it. Why had Khonshu and The Watcher dragged you here while acting like they were doing you a huge favor? Everything felt so dark. The weight of this new world and new life was crushing you. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't think. You cried into your hands, unable to stop yourself from breaking down.

Jake throws his hat on the rooftop, "Son of a Bitch." Khonshu appeared behind him and Jake growled, "You're having be track a fucking witch?" Khonshu shakes his head, "Just because a human knows a bit of magic does not make them a sorcerer." Jake mumbles, picking his hat up and brushing it off, "Where the fuck did she go?" Khonshu hums, "Far enough away that we should wait for her to come back before we track her again."

You slumped to the floor. Chest tight and breathing heavy. Your hands roughly tugged at your shirt, trying to get it away from your skin. Because even the loose fabric of the t-shirt was too tight. It was too much, all of it too much. Every second was overwhelming you. You curled into the tightest ball you could manage. Tears endlessly stream down your face. You ended up crying yourself to sleep right there on the floor of the shell of an apartment that was yours in another lifetime.

You woke up, startled and confused. For a moment, you thought the whole universal displacement had been a bad dream. One of your boys would walk over and ask why you had fallen asleep on the floor and they would comfort you after such a terrible nightmare. You were not so lucky. You got up, wiped your face with the back of your hand, and meandered through the space. You couldn't help but think this must be what it feels like to be a ghost, haunting your old place of living but it's not yours anymore and nothing is the same.

You slowly traced a path through this apartment, knowing it like the back of your hand. Dodging phantom furniture. You looked for the loose board where you used to hide your suit. It wasn't loose at all, it was very firmly in place.

You looked in the kitchen for the scorch mark from when you almost burnt the apartment down trying to make your boys a surprise dinner. You looked for the spot in the bedroom that they didn't know you knew about where they hid the surprise gifts for you. You never looked after you found out that's what it was used for. Never wanting to ruin any surprise they came up with for you.

None of it was yours. The realization sank into you, you weren't sure if that made you feel better or worse. You sighed softly, but with the empty apartment, it still echoed along the walls. You used your sling ring and portal out of there, wanting to leave it behind you.

You transport yourself to the only place you could think of, the only place that maybe someone would understand and you would have a place to stay for a while. The New York Sanctum. You appear right in the middle of Dr. Strange drinking his coffee, which he almost spat out when you appeared in front of him. Strange watched you carefully, "Who are you?" You sigh and look at him, "I know you from a different universe. You taught me some stuff. I don't have a place to stay. Can I stay here?" Dr. Strange blinked at you, "May I ask who you are and where you came from?" You give him a small nod, "[Y/N] [Y/L/N] I am… I mean… I was spider-woman. And My universe has been destroyed, so it doesn't matter much where I came from."

Strange took everything in for a moment before responding, "You wouldn't happen to have any relation to Spiderman?" You stopped and thought for a moment, "I don't know. I didn't have one where I came from." Dr. Strange nods slowly, "Might be something you should look into. That and the rampant radioactive spider problem across the Multiverse." A joke, one you would have laughed at in your old life, one you probably would have even made. But now you just shrugged before walking away and finding an empty room to hide in.

You had at least the prospects of a Spider-man. Even if you weren't related by blood, you were related by experience, at least the being bitten by a spider part. It gave you a glimmer of hope and you flopped down on the bed. Letting sleep take you.

You woke up crying, panting. You dreamed of Marc again. Your Marc, dead and lifeless against your body. You started to panic. Even as the dream had long ended, the feeling remained. You fell out of bed before pushing yourself into the corner. Head between your knees as you prayed the images would go away. You rocked yourself back and forth until you could calm your breathing. You sobbed until you physically couldn't anymore.

When your heart eventually stopped pounding in your chest, you got up. Legs unsteady from the wave of emotions. You slowly moved around until you felt the will to go outside your room. You stepped out and looked around. Currently alone, which was good because you wanted to slip out without being noticed. It was all good until you made it to the foyer, where you saw a man standing with Dr. Strange and talking to him.

This new man seemed a tad annoyed but still a little amused, "You didn't think to ask the Sorcerer Supreme if she could stay here?" Strange shrugged and waved it off, "Old habits and all that." The man turns to see you standing at the top of the stairs, "You must be [Y/N], I am Wong. The Sorcerer Supreme." You nod, offering a very unenthusiastic wave. Wong looks you up and down, "You know the mystic arts?" You shake your head, "I know some magic sure but not much. Don't plan on using it anymore, to be honest."

You quickly descend the stairs and right as you're about to reach for the doorknob, Dr. Strange's cloak blocks you. You hiss softly and back up. Strange looks over at Wong, "I'll train her. I did it once before in another universe. How hard will it be to continue where I left off?" You could have webbed the cloak to something, and then just left. But you really wanted to leave your powers behind you.

You almost felt betrayed by your powers and by being a superhero in general. You had done everything right. You have fought crime for years and then, after meeting Marc, Steven, and Jake, you had protected the travelers of the night for that stupid god. And still, in the end, all your efforts meant nothing. The world still ended, the loves of your life still died and no amount of good things you did stopped that from happening. So what was the point of being a superhero? You were going to leave it behind you. That wasn't your life anymore. Convincing yourself that part of your life died when they did.

But here you were stuck in a training area after that stupid cloak pushed you into it. Dr. Strange stood in front of you and somehow the cloak was looking rather smug. Strange watched you, "So what can you do?" You sigh and make a portal, "I can do portals and those weird sting things you sometimes fight with." Dr. Strange sighs, "An Eldritch Whip?" He demonstrates for you, summoning a long strand of magic.

You nod already over this conversation, "Yeah, I guess. I mean other you didn't exactly have time to teach me all the names of stuff, with me dying and the universe crumbling around us." Dr. Strange nods, "You said you could make one so show me." You roll your eyes and try to summon the whip. It doesn't come out right, flickering quickly before fading away. Strange shakes his head, "So you can't summon one."

You shrug before crossing your arms, "It's hit or miss. But it doesn't seem that important for me to learn." Dr. Strange furrows his brows at you, getting rather annoyed, "And what makes you say that?" You roll your eyes again, getting annoyed right back. You point to yourself, "I am a spider person, yeah? Spiders shoot webs. Webs are arguably better than weird magic whips." Strange appeared done with your attitude so he uses an eldritch whip to grab one of your wrists, "Prove to me they are better." It was a challenge and while you didn't plan on being a superhero anymore didn't mean you would not defend yourself.

So with your free hand, you shoot a web, first at Strange's face. The cloak takes offense, it would seem, and comes at you. So you dodge it quickly and web it up before attaching it to the ground so it can't come after you. And finally, you shoot a web at Dr. Strange's leg, pulling it quickly out from under him. Causing him to fall on his back with a rather dramatic thud.

You walk to him standing over him, "Just because I'm not good at magic doesn't mean I am not good at other things." He gives you a slight nod, "We can skip the whip training them." You offer a hand out to him and he takes it, lifting himself up.

Strange goes with a shaky hand to clean the web off his face and you stop him, "Don't do that. It will stick to your hand and just make it worse." You grab the web on his face and take it off before balling it up in your hand and throwing it to the side. You walk over to the cloak, "That was for trapping me in the house. Next time, don't stand in my way." You look down at the animated piece of fabric and it almost seems to nod like it agrees with you.

You start taking the webs off of it. As soon as it is free, it flies back off to Strange, taking its place on his shoulders. You sigh softly, "Why are you trying to teach me this stuff, anyway? I don't want to be a hero anymore. My metaphorical cape has been hung up." You brush your hands together, washing yourself of the whole hero thing. Dr. Strange watches you, "I am making sure you're not a threat to yourself or others." You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Sure." Strange adjusts his cloak, "We will start in a week." You nod, not believing him before going outside into the city.

A week had passed, and you hadn't started your training yet. Part of you was ready to do anything to avoid it at all costs. You walked down into the entryway, ready to go out for the day. Dr. Strange stood at the door, glancing out before closing it and coming back in, "Did you order a limo?" You crinkle your face in confusion, "A limo? No, why would I do that? I'm broke." Strange shrugs, "A limo has been sitting out front for a few hours."

You walk down the stairs and peek out the window. Strange's cloak joins you, peeking outside with you. You gasp and then quickly slide down the window, hiding. It was Jake who had found you again. Why was he following you? And why the hell was he driving a limo? Your Jake drove a taxi. You flinched at your own thought because this wasn't your Jake.

You stay on the ground, pushing your face into your hands. Dr. Strange looks down at you, "He is here for you then?" You nod slowly, "I guess. I don't know why… He shouldn't know who I am." Strange opens the curtain rather abruptly, not even bothering to hide the fact he is looking out the window at Jake. Dr. Strange shoos Jake with his hand.

Jake, however, came to the door and knocked. You froze. Of course, he would knock when told to go away. He was similar to your Jake, after all. Never backing down, stubborn. Things you had loved about him, but now you just wished he would go away so the ghosts from your past would just let you rest.

Another louder knock came through. Jake was getting annoyed. You slowly got up, "Tell him to go away. Be careful though. If he's anything like the man I knew, he carries a gun on him." Strange stops you, "And where are you going?" You point up, "To the roof, so I can leave without him seeing me. You handle him." You use your reflexes to slide past Dr. Strange before running up the stairs, hearing the wizard curse under his breath. You bolted, heading straight for the roof to escape.

Jake growled, knocking a third time. It was more like him beating his fist against the door in a knocking rhythm, but still. He weighed his options of if he could shoot the door out and just break-in. Right as he was lifting his jacket to reach for his pistol, the door opened. But instead of you meeting him like he was hoping, it was a man who looked like he belonged at a carnival or something as a magician.

Jake tilted his head, "Where is that flighty woman? I know she is here." The magician shook his head, glancing down at Jake's pistol, "She left." And with that, the magician slammed the door in Jake's face. Jake hissed and pulled out his gun, about to shoot the door out, when something caught his attention from above. He looked up and glimpsed you staring down at him before you disappeared back over the rooftop. Jake growled and kicked the door in annoyance before turning back to Khonshu. The bird tracks your movements with his long beak, "Follow her… I have a feeling she is about to do something idiotic."

You started running. You shouldn't have looked over the ledge at Jake, but you couldn't help it. You knew this one wasn't yours but your heart still longed to have him back in your life. Longed to be in his arms again. But you couldn't so you ran. It was getting dark, but you didn't care. You kept running, and you started swinging when you could but when that wasn't fast enough for you, you used the sling ring in your pocket to open up a portal and shove yourself through it.

You looked down at the city from your special spot. Your special building is distinguished from the city below. It had a different view than it did in your universe but it was just similar enough. It was comforting. It was so high above the city that everything looked like little plastic miniatures. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Willing your tears to stop. When you finally stopped hearing your heartbeat in your ears, you could breathe again.

You looked down over the city once more and decided to do something you used to do to calm down. You slowly tipped yourself off the edge of the building, doing a flip before you were swan diving towards the ground with your eyes closed. You had done this a lot before the rush of it just calmed you. You knew every part of this freefall. Your senses would kick in just in case but you wouldn't need it. You could count down the time until you needed to shoot a web and land safely on a rooftop nearby.

Your eyes closed. The wind rushed past you, whipping your hair around like crazy.

Five.

You could hear the noises of the city quickly getting closer to you.

Four.

The busy little city would never notice you, caught up in their own life.

Three.

You took a deep breath as you spun around in the air.

Tw-

You felt your body jolted mid-air. Being grabbed by someone or something as you both collided. Skidding across a rooftop with so much force, it hurt. When you finally stopped sliding, you opened your eyes. Out of instinct, you kicked the person who had grabbed you. Hard enough to send them flying into a nearby billboard.

Then you froze when you realized who you just kicked. It was Jake in his costume. It differed from the suit your Jake wore. This Jake's suit looked more like Mr. Knights' except it was mostly black, besides the mask, tie, and vest which remained white. Instead of gloves, his hands were wrapped in bloody bandages. This Jake was more of a brawler than yours.

You gasped and covered your mouth, "Shit… Shit… Jake." You ran to where he had fallen back onto the roof. His eyes were closed and you could feel the tears well up in your eyes, "Boss… You can't die on me again." You kept having flashes of seeing Marc's limp body. You had to make sure Jake was alive. You shake him with your hands, probably more roughly than you should have but you were terrified. Jake opened his eyes, and you saw the bright white glow. You started backing away, "I am so sorry… I didn't mean… I didn't know…"

Jake groaned as he looked up at you, confused as to what had just happened. He saw tears streaming down your face, which was twisted into pure fear. Fear that you had hurt him. Jake went to say something but before he could even stand up, you had portaled away again. Leaving him by himself on the rooftop.

Jake held his ribs, which were slowly healing. If you didn't care about running from him, why did you care about hurting him? Why were you crying like that? Over him? It didn't make sense. Then there was the weirdest part. You had said something about him dying again. What did you call him? 'Boss'. Why did that sound so familiar to him? Why did he know there was more to the name than just the one word? For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what word went with it. And he also knew he was supposed to have a special reply to the nickname. But he had never met you. Why would you have nicknames for each other? It was a lot to take in and once again, he had lost you after tracking you all the way here. Jake sighed and readjusted as everything healed back the way it should be.

You fell into your bed, curling into a ball. You could have accidentally killed Jake just because you were running from him. You got them killed once and you wouldn't let it happen again. You lay in bed, heart pounding out of your chest. You clung to a pillow, trying to ground yourself. You kept seeing Marc's dead body, kept feeling his cold skin pressed against you. It felt like it was all your fault and you couldn't take it. You were spiraling, unable to get these thoughts and feelings out of your head.

After what felt like years, the worst of the feelings had passed. They weren't gone, and you still felt like shit. But your chest didn't feel like it was going to burst anymore. You slowly and shakily got up and brushed your tears away. Your head was pounding from crying and lack of taking care of yourself. It was late, and you didn't want to wake anyone who happened to be around. So you quietly slipped out of your room and walked to the kitchen. You hadn't eaten all day, a bad habit from literally not eating while your world was dying. You grabbed some chips and walked into the foyer. You weren't ready to go back to your room yet, so you sat on the banister. Looking down at the moonlight dancing on the floor.

After a minute, you felt something come up next to you. You looked, and it was Strange's cloak. It sat on the banister next to you. Could cloaks sit? You had to guess they could because that's what it looked like it was doing. You looked over at it and just gave it a nod. Offering it a chip out of polite habit. The cloak brings up a corner and shakes it at you, like a human would a hand, to show it wasn't interested in your food. You go back to eating your chips, "Strange asleep?" The cloak nodded.

You looked back at the moonlight, "You care about him an awful lot. You love him." The cloak nods at your statement. You glance over at the animated object, "What would you do if you couldn't protect him?" The cloak slumps its shoulders if a piece of fabric could even have shoulders. You nodded, "Yeah, it sucks being the reason people you love died." The cloak pats you on the back. You hold back tears, sniffling, "Sorry about webbing you up and threatening you. I promise I won't do it again. Even if you do try to stop me from leaving." The cloak nods again and just stays sitting there with you in silence.

You finish your snack and roll back off the banister. The cloak surprisingly follows you around, just slowly floating behind you. You stop in front of your door, "Maybe Strange is right. I could be a danger to others." You think about how hard you kicked Jake tonight. He had the suit but after what happened, you didn't trust that stupid chicken who claims to be a god to protect his avatar. The cloak shrugs, flaring out its ends exaggeratedly. You bid the cloak goodnight before going into your room and laying down.

You wake up fairly earlier than normal and you go to the training area inside the sanctum. You had a routine, back when you fought crime. You needed a new one. To keep your nerves calm and not go stir crazy. So you use the training room to start doing gymnastics, twisting, and flipping your body around the bars. You had done gymnastics before you got your powers. You were completely terrible at it but you enjoyed it. Then, after your powers, you became too good at it so you had to drop out of your after-school programs and just practiced on your own. Now you did that again but instead of training to use your powers, you were trying to retrain your body to not use your powers at all.

So when your hand slipped, you let your body hit the floor. With a groan, you got back up and started over. You couldn't help all your powers, like your heightened senses, your supernatural balance or strength, but you could control using your webs and your general ability to stick to surfaces. So every time you messed up instead of using your powers, you ignored that instinct and let yourself fall.

At some point, while doing your new routine, Dr. Strange walked in, "What are you doing?" He startles you so you lose your grip on the bar and fall, with a loud thud to the ground. You stand up slowly rubbing your back, "Practicing how to be normal." Strange laughs, "Normal? Those were Olympic-level moves until you fell." You roll your eyes, "Fine. My version of normal." You jump back up, grabbing onto the bar with both hands. Pulling yourself up over the bar, twisting your stomach over it. Hooking your knees over the bar so you can hang upside down for a moment. Strange eyes you while drinking his coffee, "What are you punishing yourself for?"

You glare at Dr. Strange and quickly pull yourself up, using your hands to spin over the bar a few times. Jumping off and trying to stick the landing. You didn't. Your legs wobble and you almost fell over. Strange isn't blind to you ignoring his question, "If you stay here, you have to train in the mystic arts, and we might as well talk. Let's be honest, this sanctum is empty. Who else are you going to talk to?" You scoff, walking back over to the bar, "That's cute. You think I wanna talk about my problems?"

Strange glares at you, deciding to just start your training now. He flicks an eldritch whip at you and you're able to dodge it. He repeats the assault until after a few tries, he grabs your wrist, "What are you punishing yourself for?" You hiss and quickly spin until it breaks his magic whip away from you, "Who says I am?" Strange pulls out two whips and grabs both your wrists. You pull back as far as you can. Dr. Strange tightens his hold on you.

Which was a mistake on Strange's part. You used the tension he created, and you instantly stopped resisting. Sending you flying towards him, pushing yourself to the ground so you could slide and take his legs out from under him. And it would have worked if not for the ever-loyal cloak that allowed him to float instead of fall. You growled and scuttled to your feet. Dr. Strange saw the look in your eye, "Enough." He throws you into something that wasn't there before. It looked like a mirror, weird crystals of glass rippling around as you fell through it.

When you came to a stop, you looked around. Everything looked like it was in a kaleidoscope, rippling and moving altogether. Then you realized this looked very similar to where The Watcher had dragged you to before kicking you into this universe. You started panting. Not only was everything constantly moving making you disoriented but now you were verging on a panic attack because of how similar this looked to where you had been ripped from your reality.

You folded in on yourself, not fighting anymore. You wrapped your arms around your head and tried to just look at the ground, but even the ground was rippling, too. You closed your eyes tight. Breathing so fast through your nose that it didn't feel like the air was reaching your lungs. Tears started forming in your eyes when you thought of the last time you were in a place like this. Ripped away from the loves of your life. Torn away from everything. You were on the verge of sobbing. Staying put and just hoped everything would stop. You suddenly felt something blocking the light from in front of you. You looked up, and it was the cloak, looking rather disappointed at Strange. Dr. Strange sighs, "Alright." Then suddenly everything returned to normal.

You slowly stood up, on unstable legs. Strange walks up to you and offers you a hand. You smack him away, aiming for his arm because you have seen the scars on his hands and you may be mad, but you're not a monster, "The fuck was that for?" You angrily wipe your tears away. Trying to hide the evidence of your breakdown. Dr. Strange looks at you as his cloak floats next to him, "Sometimes you have to re-break a bone for it to heal properly. It's the same thing with emotional trauma."

You get to your feet on your own. Just like a fucking doctor to say. Strange looks at you, "So are you going to answer the question or not?" You cross your arms, not wanting to talk about it, but maybe you should. Because Jesus, feeling like this, was miserable. Feeling like this was suffocating, and you wanted to be able to finally fucking breathe. But as much as you wanted that, you still wanted to be stubborn, "One question per training session." Strange raises an eyebrow at you, "I thought you didn't want to learn more." You think back on how you could have hurt Jake and sigh, "Well, I want to make sure I don't accidentally hurt anyone." Strange nods, "Alright. We can work with that."

Dr. Strange started showing you how to summon Tao Mandalas to fight with. It was tricky and you couldn't hold them for long, but you were getting there. Strange chose when you were trying to concentrate on keeping the Mandalas formed to bring up his question again, "So will you finally answer the question?" The mandalas sputter and flicker out, "Shit." You wave your hands and try to refocus.

When you got them to reappear, you mumbled, "I got the men I loved killed." You were able to keep one formed but the one on your non-dominant hand flickered out. Dr. Strange raises an eyebrow, "Men? As in multiple?" You shook your head, "One question per training." Strange rolls his eyes but doesn't ask again.

You get your non-dominant mandala back up, "The deal is just as much for me as it is for you. You don't seem like the kinda guy who deals with crying well." Strange scoffs and gives your mandalas a testing smack to see if they will stay up, "What makes you say that?" Both your mandalas stay up for his test. You roll your eyes, "I mean kinda your whole 'thing' suggests it." Strange looks down at himself and then he looks at his cloak, which nods in agreement with you. He furrowed his eyebrows, "Fair enough, I guess."

Strange hits your mandalas again, this time harder, "Pain is an old friend, so I understand." Your dominant hand's mandala doesn't last through the hit and you have to try to re-summon it, "I didn't know you for long in my universe and to be honest that version of you wasn't even from my universe in the first place. But he looked like he had seen some shit."

You get the mandala back up before continuing, "Not that you haven't but you haven't turned into a walking nightmare so that's something." Strange stops what he is doing, "What?" You drop your hands, flexing your muscles to give them a rest, "I think you did something you weren't supposed to. You had snake eyes and an almost villainous aura. But you seemed like you were trying to correct it. I mean, you taught me enough so that I could…" You trail off saying nothing else, looking down at your hands before clenching them into fists. Strange nods slowly, "We are done for the day."

You went trotted down the stairs, ready to walk around the city for a bit. You open the door and Jake stood out front, leaning against the hood of his limo. You mumbled and tried to avoid him, but he spotted you. He walked over to one of the back doors and opened it for you, pointing for you to get in.

You stand for a moment and stare at him, "Why?" God, you wanted to hug him. Wanted to run into his muscular arms and hear him whisper all his sweet nicknames into your ear. You had to pull your eyes away because you already felt the tears welling up. Jake looks up at you and shrugs, "I just do as I am told." You growl out of both annoyance and trying to hide the fact you're about to cry. Ducking down into the limo, sitting in the back and glaring at Khonshu, who was sitting in it, waiting for you. Jake steps in after you sitting next to Khonshu before closing the door.

You cross your arms, "What the fuck do you want, you bag of sand?" Jake doesn't look overly surprised you can see Khonshu but there is still a bit of surprise in his eyes. Jake even looks a bit entertained by your nickname for his mummified boss. Khonshu looks down at you, "You were marked by me, so you must be important." You hiss loudly, hands balling into fists, "Unmark me this instant. I want nothing to do with your bullshit. I helped you for fucking years and it didn't mean a damn thing in the end." You were furious, your blood broiling.

Khonshu cocked his head, "The mark is not something that can be removed once placed. It is a symbol that you are important and worth protecting." You were even more upset now, so you stood up and walked over to the bird, getting in his skeletal face, "I don't trust anything you say. You claim to be this all-powerful god but you can't even keep your fucking avatar protected. So what fucking good are you?"

Khonshu seemed offended by that, "Little arachnid, I am trying to be patie-" You interrupted him, "Nope, because of you I am not an arachnid anymore. Just another bug like everyone else. So leave me the fuck alone." Before the god could speak again, you went to the door. Jake opened it for you from his sitting position without a word.

You couldn't help yourself and you ended up looking back and meeting Jake's eyes. Your Jake liked it when you got mad and yelled. When you were pissed off. This Jake seemed to enjoy it, too. There was a familiar look in his eyes as you exited the limo. You broke eye contact and rushed away, fists clenched, digging into your palms to control your emotions in some way.

Jake watched you walk away from his limo. God, you were hot when you were mad. He still didn't know who you were but, the way you yelled, the way you had kicked his ass last night, it did something to him. Jake turned to look over at the god, "She an old avatar of yours?" Khonshu shakes his head, "No. She loved one of my avatars dearly in another life. We will want her help for what is to come. It will not be that easy." Jake cocks his head, "Another life? Like reincarnation?" Khonshu shakes his head, "Another universe." Jake furrowed his brow and shook his head, assuming the bird was talking in riddles like the god does from time to time. So Jake got out of the limo, "I'll figure out a way to get through to her." And with that, he closed the door.

Strange had his tao mandalas up and so did you. You were practicing fighting with them. Dr. Strange went to hit you, "So you said Men. Explain." You block his hit and sigh, "Three of them." Strange raises an eyebrow as he hits you harder, "You were in love with three different men and they all died?" His blow slides you back and you wince at the mention of their deaths. Luckily, you are too distracted practicing to let the emotion overwhelm you. You stiffen your legs and push back, "Yes… It's complicated."

Strange allows you to push him back a bit before going to strike you again, "Love is complicated." You frown and nod, deciding to try and hit him back with your mandala. Strange easily blocks, "What's complicated about yours?" You raise an eyebrow, "Tell me about yours first." Strange hits you much harder this time, knocking you on your ass and making you lose both your mandalas. You focus on summoning them again. Strange waits, "I was an asshole our entire relationship. Then, when I successfully pushed her away, I realized how much I loved her. But saving the world." Strange waved his hand in the 'etcetera' motion.

You nod softly, finally getting your mandalas re-summoned, "Mine had D.I.D.." You stand up, putting your hands in front of you. Strange gets a shocked look on his face, "Dissociative Identity Disorder? So, three men in one body?" You offer a nod and a small sad smile, "My three for one special." You missed them, so much. You shook your head and went to hit Strange. He blocked but your mandalas stayed up.

Dr. Strange went to hit you back, "What are their names?" You froze, mandalas flickering out as your emotions threaten to overtake you. Strange's hit lands on your chest, but you don't react to the blow. You sigh softly, "Marc, Steven, and Jake." You slowly sit down on the ground, done for the day. Strange slowly sits down next to you, "That's why you never refer to me by my first name." You nod again, "Nothing personal."

You rest your chin in your hands, looking at the wall, "People used to spell his name wrong all the time. The way you spell it." Strange nods, following along. Your heart aches but you continue, "So I started having us take pictures with sign language 'V's. They are basically peace signs anyway but they were V's to us. For my Steven with a V." You felt your eyes start to water, but you didn't blink them away. Not at the moment.

Your heart felt warm thinking about those pictures you took with your Steven. Then you thought about what this universe's Steven was up to. You had seen Jake, but then you also thought about Marc. You started to cry more. Tears roll down your face and land on your pants. You quickly started wiping your tears again. Strange stood up and offered you a hand. You smack his arm away, "I'm not going to hurt you to stand up." You stand up on your own. Strange lets out a half-hearted groan, "You're an ass." You nod as you leave the room, "I used to be fun but, well… Pain changes a person." You went back into your room for the rest of the day and cried. Unable to stop thinking about the life you had lost and how you had nothing left of it. No keepsakes, no momentos, no photos. Nothing.

You were getting into a normal routine but your nightmares still haunted you. Marc's lifeless body wouldn't leave your thoughts. Your feelings were all over the place. You were mourning the death of the loves of your life. You were mourning the death of yourself as well. You used to be fun and joke and laugh. Now you didn't. Like being ripped from your life wasn't bad enough. You were ripped from yourself as well.

Jake stood outside that weird magician's building where you decided to stay for some reason. Jake had been taking care of you from a distance. And by distance, he meant making his presence very obvious, but not talking to you directly. He had left packages at your door, stuff you had looked at while shopping but couldn't afford. Jake had noticed you had little money. So he took care of it. Months had passed of this odd routine he started. Khonshu had told Jake to monitor you but Khonshu hadn't told him to leave you 'gifts'. So Jake wasn't sure if he was still following you for Khonshu or himself at this point.

One day, while he was following you around, you had stopped in front of a store. Looking at something on display. He could tell you hadn't meant to stop but your body forced you. You touched the glass and then pulled it away like it burned you. When tears started to pool in your eyes, you quickly moved away. Jake had noticed you cried a lot. Your face was red and puffy more often than it wasn't.

And for some reason, that hurt Jake. Hurt him that you were so upset, so damaged by something. He could tell from the months of watching you that you were struggling with something.

Jake walked up to the storefront, curious as to what hurt you this time. It was just a chunk of pearlescent fabric, nothing more. It reminded him of the fabric of his Moon Knight suit but that was it. Such a simple thing had brought you to tears.

Jake had found himself having dreams about you, which was odd. Then again, part of him felt like he had dreams about you before he met you. He hadn't put much thought into them because he thought you were someone his mind made up. Now he knew you weren't made up. That the dreams about you felt different. They didn't seem like the normal made-up dreams one's brain invents during the night. These dreams felt real. So damn real.

You were so happy and laughing. He had never seen you smile in real life before. You were joking with him and calling him 'Boss' like when you had thought you hurt him. Finally Jake heard his voice say the reply that he somehow knew existed, 'Legs'. And the way you beamed when he called you that made his heart race. Jake woke up, heart racing. Not from a nightmare or a scare, but from a new emotion that dream was making him feel.

The next morning Jake was following you like normal. Watching where you stopped and seeing if there was anything he could buy for you that might make you smile the way you had in his dream. He kept following you, only stopping when Khonshu appeared in front of him, "If she would like to remain a normal bug, let her. We have wasted enough time trying to get her to join us." Jake scoffed. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Jake wasn't planning to stop trying to help you.

Continuation of Life As You Know It - Part 1 - Part 2* - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Tag list: @missdragon-1 @lazyloki @lazyotakujen @disregardedplant @brekkers-desigirl @cleverzonkwombatsludge @rmoonstoner

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #Female reader #marvel #reader insert #marvel moon knight #Moon Knight #fanfic #fanfiction #anon request

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