#I think I'll get this done by end of Monday or nearly so anyway

[kyliafanfiction]

Word Count 1-6-23

573 Words

Count for the Month: 2501

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

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

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

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

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 

"Aren't you my present?" 

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 

"Bradley!" you whined. 

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 

"No. Keep going."

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

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

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

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

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

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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[r1poutmygvtz]

i'm so dizzy, tired, and weak and breathings getting hard again, normally i'd break the fast at this point but i want to hit 5 days again and maybe pass my 124h record, i really want to do a week but if this is how i'm feeling at nearly 91h then idk if i should for my health, ik i'll be fine for 5 days bc i've done it twice but a week seems riskier

im at my sisters still and most likely will be until monday so i won't have chicken broth (i drink a cup and it helps the weakness and dizziness for only 5 cals) or any vitamins to help (like i take them anyway 🤡) so i think i'll just get an energy drink since there's vitamins in them, it'll break the whole "zero cal intake for days on end" thing i've got going on but i'm ok with that if it means i can fast for longer because of it

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home to Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

A/N: Some dialogue from FOI.

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl @vulpixsworld

Prologue . . . Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chrissy didn't try to find Eddie the next day or the following Monday. She listened as Ronnie told her all about what happened in the recording studio Sunday, how it started off very rocky, but once they worked through their nerves, it turned out really awesome.

"Okay, enough about me," Ronnie said. "You were really distant on Friday. I was pretty much busy all weekend. Anyway, did anything happen? Did you finally get to talk to Eddie like you wanted to?"

"Uh, yeah," Chrissy said. "So, the demo is sent out, huh?"

"Don't change the subject, Henderson," Ronnie said.

"You're my friend, right?" Chrissy asked. "I mean, no matter what happens between me and Eddie?"

"Duh," Ronnie said.

"I think I'm done with Eddie," Chrissy frowned.

"Shit, what did the dumbass say?" She asked.

"He said the one thing that could drive me away," Chrissy said. "I was just trying to stop him from pushing me away, so I showed up at his house. I met his dad when he wasn't there yet, and God, he's definitely a conman. I think he's conning Eddie into something, and I think it might be something serious. I think that Wayne tried to talk Eddie out of whatever it is."

"What did he say?" Ronnie asked softly.

"He said I was crazy like my mom," Chrissy said.

"Shit, doesn't he know that your birth mom is in Pennhurst?" She asked.

"Yeah," Chrissy said.

"Fucking dick," Ronnie said. "I'm going ram my drumstick - "

"Ronnie! Look, he's clearly being self-destructive, and if he doesn't want me around to watch that, then so be it," Chrissy said. "I know he didn't mean for that to slip out."

"You're too forgiving, Chrissy Henderson. He doesn't deserve you," Ronnie said.

"This Eddie doesn't. I know the Eddie I fell for is still in there, hiding behind fear," Chrissy said, frowning. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not still pissed at him. And that doesn't mean that he's going to get off lightly if he does get his head out of his ass."

"Are you going to make him suffer?" Ronnie asked.

"I have ideas," Chrissy replied.

"Yes!"

Chrissy didn't look Eddie's way or bother to try to talk to him, and when he did try to approach her, it was her turn to scurry away. She didn't talk to him until Wednesday afternoon, when she turned the corner to discover him being pinned face first against the lockers by Tommy Hayes and Jason Carver. Connor was there, too.

"Hey! Let him go!" Chrissy yelled.

"What are you willing to do for me if we do let him go?" Jason asked.

"Well, I'll let you keep your equipment for one thing," Chrissy said, narrowing her eyes at him and Eddie snorted.

"Shut up, freak!" Tommy yelled at Eddie.

There were two Tommy Hs in this school. There was Tommy Hagan, who was an asshole but too much of a coward to actually do what this Tommy was doing. It was what had made it easy to hang out with him when Steve had been friends with Tommy Hagan. No, this Tommy H was far worse. Where Tommy Hagan was dark-haired with freckles littering his body, Tommy Hayes was blond haired with fair skin that was free of moles or freckles. Tommy Hagan always held a sliver of humanity beneath his bitchyness and snark. It always told Chrissy that this was something that he was eventually going to grow out of. Hayes held a darkness in his eyes, telling her that this was always going to be a part of him. Jason held an almost similar simmering darkness in his eyes, but it wavered slightly when Chrissy looked at him pleadingly.

"Don't do this, please," Chrissy said.

"He was breaking into a classroom," Jason said furiously.

"I was given permission! We were told we could use it for Hellfire!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I believe him, Jason. Let him go. It doesn't give you the right to do this," Chrissy said. "You don't have to be like this. You guys don't have to be enemies. His interest in the game isn't going to hurt you. It's just a fantasy game. You play your game, and he plays his. Leave him alone."

"Where's the fun in that, Cunningham?" Tommy H asked.

"Henderson," Chrissy, Eddie, and Jason corrected.

Jason stepped closer to her, and Eddie struggled against the others' grips.

"Leave her alone!" Eddie yelled.

"Serious answer here, Chrissy. What are you going to do for me if we let him go?" Jason asked.

"Are you seriously asking me that? Date you, and you leave Eddie alone?" Chrissy asked.

"Yes," Jason said hopefully.

"Don't!" Eddie cried out. "You don't have to do that, Chrissy. I'll be okay."

Chrissy stared at him as Tommy H pressed Eddie's face into the locker, their hands holding his arms so tightly that she knew they were leaving bruises. She looked into his wide brown eyes, so full of sorrow.

"Eddie," Chrissy whispered.

"I'm sorry, Chrissy, I'm sorry," Eddie wimpered.

"You really love this freak?" Jason said furiously, his jaw clenching.

Before Chrissy could answer, there came a scream, and Gareth was running toward them. Ronnie was running after him, trying to hold him back, but he was determined. He slammed his elbow into Tommy H's stomach, causing him to bend over. It allowed Eddie to push back against Connor and turn around. Tommy grabbed Gareth, holding him tightly.

"Get off of him," Eddie told him.

"Your freak king thinks I should do what he says," Tommy sneered, and Gareth spat in his eyes. "You little shit!"

He started dragging Gareth away. Chrissy went to chase after, but Jason grabbed her arm. She reacted quickly and slammed her knee into his groin before swinging her fist into his face as well. Jason cursed.

"Let me go," Gareth said.

"I'm going to kill you," Tommy spat at him.

Chrissy saw the look in Tommy's eyes at the same time that Eddie did. This wasn't just something that you say in the heat of the moment. He meant it. Tommy drove his knee into Gareth's chest, sending the boy to his knees. Chrissy rushed at him, but Jason, who was kneeling on the floor, grabbed Chrissy's ankle, causing her to fall hard against the tile and the other lockers. Her head hit the metal, and she gasped in pain, feeling the blood beginning to spill from her split eyebrow. Looks like she was going to have another scar. She shot her other foot out, slamming it into his face.

"Chrissy," Jason said, his nose bleeding and his eyes wide as he gazed at her.

"Chrissy!" Eddie yelled.

She stood up shakily, and they both watched as Tommy kicked Gareth forcibly in the head. Gareth flew back into the lockers with a loud crunch. He gasped and curled up on the ground, clutching his wrist. Chrissy was feeling a little woozy and tried to stop Tommy from picking up Gareth, but he pushed her down. Meanwhile, Eddie was trying to escape Connor, but it was no use. Tommy pulled Gareth up, the kid letting out a painful wimper. His arm went back as he tried to punch Gareth in the face. Ronnie, however, intervened by stepping in between them and taking the blow that was meant for Gareth.

"Are you done?" Ronnie demanded. "Or do you want to show off by beating up a freshman some more?"

"That's enough," Higgins voice spoke.

Higgins' eyes took in the scene. He moved to Jason and the others, finally landing on Eddie. He glared accusingly at him, like it was fault. No, why wouldn't it be the people who were actually responsible? Chrissy glared at Higgins. They were all brought to his office, except for Gareth. He was on his way to the hospital. Chrissy refused to go, instead fixed up her cut right there in the main office, glaring at Jason as she did so. Her eye was going to bruise. She just knew it. The other two were playing with their detention slips, but Jason was starting to look guilty, at least. Chrissy tossed her bloody tissue at him as she followed Eddie into Higgins' office.

"Miss Cunningham, I didn't ask you to come in here yet," Higgins said.

"I know, I came in here to make sure you listened to what actually happened and not just outright accuse Eddie," Chrissy said with a forced smile. "And for God's sake, it's Henderson."

"He knows what actually happened. Tommy Hayes made sure his parents bought him out," Eddie said. "How much is it going to cost them this time to bail him out? Three times the going rate? Maybe four? Maybe you get a new car this time. I've heard he's got a great stock of new Volvos."

"Are you finished? Wonderful," Higgins said. "Now. I’d like to run through the events of this afternoon with you because you seem to have an uncanny ability to ignore reality. Point one: After the final bell, you led your…club in breaking into a teacher’s classroom without that teacher’s knowledge or consent. Point two: when Mr. Hayes and his friends discovered your trespass. You goaded them into attacking —"

"That's bullshit!" Eddie and Chrissy exclaimed.

"Eddie works his ass off to clean classrooms to get permission to have a place for Hellfire," Chrissy scowled. "Those assholes were trying to hurt Eddie for his own amusement. He ran so they'd go after him instead of his friends."

"Miss Cunningham - "

"For the last goddamn time, IT'S HENDERSON!" Chrissy yelled.

"—which leads me to point three: in the ensuing altercation, four students were injured, one badly enough to send him to the hospital. Do I have that, right?" Higgins asked, ignoring Chrissy.

“No! We were minding our business, and those guys jumped us!"

Higgins shakes his head.

"A child is in the hospital, and you are sitting here whining and pointing fingers," he told Eddie.

Higgins sighed and pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it towards Eddie.

"What is this?" Eddie asked.

Chrissy peered over his shoulder to read it with him. Apparently, Stan's mom had taken him out of school when she found out he was in Hellfire and stuck him into a program to free him from his satantic influence. Chrissy cursed under her breath.

"I want to make this very clear, Munson," he continued. "What happened to Stanley is your fault. So is every bruise on every student sitting out in that office. So, is the child currently awaiting an orthopedic surgeon at Hawkins Memorial. ‘Oblique displaced fracture.’ That’s what the paramedics told me. ‘Lucky if he avoids nerve damage.’ I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but I do know it means it will be at least eight weeks until he can use that arm again."

"How about placing the actual blame on the kids who hurt him for no goddamn reason? Eddie was trying to protect his friends, and in turn, Gareth tried to do the same. Gareth wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't set your little minions on trying to hurt Eddie," Chrissy glared at him. "You're supposed to be an educator, but instead, you're turning this place into a battlefield and turning these kids against each other."

"Miss Cunningham, get out of this office, I will deal with you later," Higgins sighed.

"Chrissy - " Eddie started to say.

"NO!" Chrissy yelled. "I won't let you do this to him."

Higgins ignored her, proceeding to tell Eddie how Hellfire was finished. How Higgins had persuaded the staff not to let Eddie use their classrooms for his club. He told Eddie that they needed a faculty sponsor, and Eddie jumped at the chance to tell him that he'll find a sponsor, that he'll register the club.

"I'm asking you not to," Higgins said, and Chrissy didn't like the tone of his voice. "Let's talk about Veronica Ecker."

"She doesn't have anything to do with this, " Eddie and Chrissy said.

"This afternoon, she was involved in a serious brawl on school property. This is the sort of act that universities find…shall we say, significant? Or maybe the better word would be consequential. Which is to say, there are often consequences." He shook his head. "We were all so proud of her for overcoming her beginnings. NYU! A marvelous school. A terrific opportunity for a bright young woman. And to pile on a full scholarship on top of that achievement?”

Chrissy felt like someone punched her in the stomach, and she could only watch as Higgins blackmailed Eddie into dropping out. She grabbed Eddie's shoulder, gripping it tightly.

"Why me?" Eddie asked. "You’re right. I’m number one on the shit list of everybody in this school. In this town. And I honestly don’t know how I got there. I was hoping you did since you’ve got such a clear picture of what I should be doing with my life."

"Because it's just who you are," Higgins said.

"Eddie, it's not who you are. We can figure this out. We can talk to Hop," Chrissy pleaded with him.

"Ronnie's your friend, too, Chrissy," Eddie whispered. "Could you live with it? If she lost everything because. . .because of me."

"Eddie," Chrissy said softly.

Looking at him, she knew there wasn't anything that she could do to change his mind. He already made it up.

"Then congratulations, Principal Higgins," Eddie said. "You're looking at Hawkins High's newest dropout."

He didn't bother waiting to hear what he had to say, Eddie stormed out of the office. Chrissy gave Higgins a withering glare before following Eddie. They both brushed past Ronnie, who looked confused.

"I need to talk to him first," Chrissy said quickly and ran out of the main office.

The hallway was empty as Eddie walked quickly away from her. She cursed her short legs as she hurried to catch up to him.

"Go away, Chrissy," Eddie said, his voice thick.

When she was close enough to him, she managed to grab his arm and pull him around to face her. Eddie was crying.

"You don't have to do this," Chrissy said softly.

"Except that I do. There's no other option for me," Eddie sniffled. "I can't stay here and watch people suffer because this whole fucking town is determined to hate me. I love this town, but their hatred is going to kill me. Chrissy, I can't stay, they won't let me."

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her heartbreaking for him.

"You would let me stay, though, wouldn't you?" He asked.

"In a heartbeat," she replied.

"I can't let them hurt you either," he said, shaking his head. "I know there isn't anything that I can do to make up for what I said. . ."

"You suffered enough, I think," Chrissy said.

She moved closer to Eddie and placed her hand on his chest. He placed his hand over hers and held it close to his heart.

"If I could, I would pick you up and put you in my pocket, take you with me," Eddie said. "Your place is still here, though."

"Yeah," she said, and the tears burst out of her. "This isn't fair!"

"I know, sweetheart," Eddie said and cupped her cheek with his free hand.

"Eddie, I lo - ," Chrissy started to say, but Eddie quickly put her hand over her mouth.

"If you say it, I'll stay," he whispered. "And I can't do that to Ronnie. I can't do that to you. If I stay, they'll keep hating me, and I'll just be this Eddie shaped ball of resentment knowing that they're going after the ones that I lo - ,"

Chrissy licked his hand, and he yelped, pulling his hand back.

"If you say it, I'll follow," she whispered, and he pulled her into a tight hug. "My freak."

"My witch," Eddie whispered.

"You know, we met once in middle school. We had this moment, so small, yet so significant. It should have just ended there, but who would have thought we would meet again years later," Chrissy said.

"Maybe we'll meet again," he said.

"I'll be in the front row of your very filled out concert, packed with fans. I'll be cheering for you," Chrissy said, more tears slipping out.

"I'll be singing for you," he whispered. "It's always for you."

Chrissy wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his chest. He held onto her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He pulled back, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

"I still owe you," Eddie said. "How about some ice cream?"

"Sounds perfect," Chrissy said.

They started walking out of the school, and Chrissy reached over to interlock their fingers together. It should feel like the end of something, but why does it feel like it was only the beginning?

Chapter Twelve

[crypt-tids]

I was on semi vacation for about 10 days (basically I just stayed with my bf the whole time instead of going to Florida with my family.) the Monday after was chore day, deep cleaning Pretzels tank and getting her ready to go back into it (since I took her and my bunny with me to his place). I didn't finish in time to put her in her tank until Tuesday, which was all I had planned for that day and because my bf had the day off, I thought we would be hanging out, but when he asked what I had planned, I told him just putting pretzel in her tank (something that really wouldn't take longer than an hour). He was doing a couple chores and watching anime. I didn't get an invite so I just assumed he wanted some space after having me over for such a long time. I was pretty bummed about it, and already depressed which didn't help and at the end of the day I'd gotten pretty tired and hadn't allowed myself anytime to cry after falling down and hurting myself pretty bad the day before because I had too much work to do, so I ended up just crying over that Tuesday night. My bf offered to bring me stuff and hang out with me while I went through it, but it was nearly 10 pm and he usually falls asleep around 11 and it's a 35-40 minute drive from his house to mine. So I told him no because it was too far to go to not be able to see each other for more than a few minutes. He agreed. The next day he invites me over to watch a movie. I get in the car and he immediately hugs me and starts kissing me (full zoomies). And I'm just like "jeez, you'd think you hadn't seen me in like 10 years" and he's just like "it felt like it"

So I'm a little confused and I'm just like joking "well, who's fault is that?"

And he just gets really quiet and then says "I offered to come over yesterday but you said no"

"yeah, because it was 10 and it's an hour and a half round trip and you turn into a pumpkin by 11"

"I would've come anyways."

"you could've come over earlier, you know. I wasn't doing anything. I just had to put pretzel in her tank. I would've been done sooner but there was no rush because we didn't have plans."

"I thought you were catching up with your parents after the trip. I thought they'd want to see you."

"um... No we caught up on everything on Sunday night. My mom went straight back to work and my dad spent the whole day filling out disability paperwork. We didn't even talk really."

"..oh."

"I thought you wanted a break from dealing with me because I was there so long"

And he just looks at me like "what? Oh my God, no. I missed you."

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID THAT AND COME OVER!!"

And then he got real quiet again, like super bummed out that we didn't get to hang out on his day off because he didn't invite me and he's just like "I should've. I'll try to be better about that."

Like... Bless his heart, we're both fucking dumb.

[my-intrusive-stories]

Vampire! Engen x Female! Reader: Holding On To You Part 2

Word Count ~ 5313 Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence and Death Notes: I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter. I wanted to give it the ending it deserved but kept rewriting parts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I'll try to have my next work done at some point on Monday, but pls bear with me since I have midterms this week.

Hours? Days? Weeks? It was hard to keep track of time when everything was pitch black. After getting shot by the Hunter, Cyrus, you’d been in this strange place for god knows how long. Either this was the afterlife, or you got stuck in a bizarre limbo between life and death. Hopefully, it was the latter.

Another indeterminate period passed before you got tired of staying in place. If something was going to happen, it would have already happened. So you picked a direction and walked. The dark abyss seemed endless. No matter how far you walked or looked, there was only inky darkness.

More time passed, and you were beginning to feel disheartened. Nevertheless, you pressed on. Dying wasn’t an option. People were waiting on the other side. Suddenly, there was a small glimmer of light in the distance. You blinked, thinking it was a hallucination, but no, there was something there. Excited by the prospect of a way out, you started to run toward the light.

Meanwhile, three days had passed in the real world. Everyone in the castle was becoming more worried. You were still unconscious and running a high fever. Even the doctor, Vector, was nervous. Usually, patients would have some semblance of consciousness after several days.

“I’ve never seen a case like this,” the pumpkin-headed man told the anxious onlookers. “(Y/N)’s wounds healed at a rate faster than an average Supernatural, yet she won’t wake up. Her current condition may have something to do with her memory loss.”

“She isn’t in danger of dying, though, right?” Rachel asked apprehensively. If another one of her loved ones died, she wouldn’t know what to do.

“Luckily, (Y/N) seems stable, minus the fever. The best I can do now is put a cold towel on her head.”

“Thank goodness,” Baekji breathed out. You’d risked your life to save hers by getting animal blood in Hunter-infested woods. If you died, she’d feel unbearably guilty.

“Alright,” Vector clapped. “Everyone get out. Crowding in this room is bringing up the temperature. Especially you, Bagna.” He shot a look at the fire spirit. “If you want (Y/N) to recover, give her space to breathe.”

There was some grumbling from the masses, but who were they to disobey the doctor’s orders? Slowly, the Supernaturals filed out of the room. All except for two.

“When I said everyone, I did mean everyone, Engen,” Vector said sternly. His tone softened when he continued, though. “I know you’re worried, but standing over her body won’t do any good for either of you.”

The brown-haired vampire remained silent as he looked at your unconscious figure. Had it not been for the sheen of sweat covering your body, he’d think you were sleeping peacefully. Engen preferred the serene expression on your face to the one he’d witnessed when the Hunter put a bullet through your chest. Guilt tugged at his chest as he remembered how he couldn’t do anything to prevent this. Giving one last glance toward you, Engen retreated to his room to stew in his emotions.

Nearly a hundred years had passed since everyone he loved died. Engen thought he had moved on, but then you showed up. Everything about you was practically identical to his first love. From looks to personality, you were the spitting image of his (Y/N). The only solace was that your eyes were (Y/E/C) and not golden. Still, when he heard Rachel call you (Y/N), Engen nearly punched a hole in the wall. It was as if the world was playing tricks on him.

Bringing you back to the castle was a selfish decision he instantly regretted. Associating with Supernaturals as a human was a death sentence. Still, he clung to the ghost of his (Y/N). Now, you were suffering for his choices. As he lay sleeplessly on his bed, Engen decided he’d do anything possible to keep you safe. No one would touch you again.

Back in the strange, dark world, you were still running. Little by little, the light got brighter. It spurred you on. Had this been the real world, you’d have collapsed from exhaustion, but things functioned differently here. One step at a time, the finish neared. After what felt like an eternity, the end was right in front of you. Right before you could pass through, though, the brilliant glare blinded you. It caused you to fall through. Instead of bracing for impact, every muscle went limp.

When you tried to open your eyes and get up, nothing happened. There was only a stinging pain in your knees and the feeling of grass on your face. Where the hell was this?

“What did you do this time, (Y/N)?” a voice suddenly asked. It sounded like a young boy– a very exasperated young boy.

“Well, I tripped on a rock.” That was your voice? Why did it sound so childish? And who was it that asked the question? Only the Supernaturals at the castle knew of the temporary name Rachel gave you.

That query didn’t last long since you glanced upwards and saw a brown-haired boy with blue-grey eyes. He looked uncannily similar to Engen. Even the slight frown was the same, though the child didn’t have a scar.

As abruptly as he showed up, the Engen look-alike turned to leave. An arm reached out toward his back.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whined involuntarily. It was as if you were a passenger in your own body while someone made decisions for you.

The boy let out a sound of annoyance but turned around anyway. He wasted no time putting you on his back and walking toward a house. Apparently, you shrank because there was no way a child could carry you. This situation was like a strange hallucination.

After carrying you silently for a few minutes, the boy arrived at the house. Before he could knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a cheerful woman and someone you assumed to be her husband. They looked just like you.

“Hello, Engen,” the woman exclaimed cheerfully. “It’s nice to see you. What brings you here?”

“Hello, Mrs. (L/N). (Y/N) fell again, so I brought her back.”

“Again?” she sighed. “Thank you for bringing my clumsy daughter home.”

The woman scooped you up and placed you on a chair. A light flick landed on your forehead, but all you could think about was the information you’d just hear. According to Rachel, Engen was close to one hundred years old. Why would this weird dream involve both of you as children? You weren’t even alive back then, right?

Bandages wrapping around your knee snapped you out of your thoughts. You watched as the woman who claimed to be your mother tenderly wrapped your knees. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she was doing the most delicate of tasks. It made your heart swell. If this was a dream, it wasn’t a bad one.

Suddenly, everything began to blur. The scenery changed from inside your home to a tree near a lake. Sitting near the edge of the water was a slightly older Engen. He stared into the shimmering expanse of liquid with a serene expression. In all your time at the castle, you’d never seen such a peaceful expression on the vampire’s face. You honestly didn’t want to disturb him, but that wasn’t your choice to make at the moment. 

“Hey, Engen,” you shouted while sprinting up to him. The boy turned toward you. From behind your back, you produced a book. Engen’s eyes lit up ever so slightly when he recognized the cover. How cute.

 “Happy birthday!” you panted out. “Just wanted to give you this. I’ll get going now.”

Once you handed him the book, you turned to leave, but a grip on your wrist stopped you. Engen’s demeanor seemed softer than before.

“I don’t mind if you stay for a bit,” he mumbled while avoiding your eyes. A bright smile spread across your face. Together, you admired the sparkling lake. As you looked into the reflective water, you realized with a start that instead of (Y/E/C), your eyes appeared to be golden.

With that discovery, the world blurred out once again. Another scene played through. And another. And another. Each scenario felt nostalgic for some reason. You dismissed those thoughts every time, though. The gap between your childhood and Engen’s spanned decades. Whoever’s eyes you were seeing through must have been your ancestor or something. If these were real memories, you were simply a spectator in someone else’s body.

Slowly, you let yourself be immersed in this girl’s memories. Using the recollections, you pieced together her life. The golden-eyed girl’s father was an apothecary, and her mother bounded books. They were best friends with Engen’s parents. As it turns out, only Engen’s father, Davon, was a vampire. He’d wandered around before falling in love with a human and settling down.

Using his status as an apothecary, (Y/N)’s father helped explain away Davon’s strange habits as a result of an illness. Instead of human blood, Engen and his father consumed animal blood. They also filed their canine teeth. Since the Supernatural panic hadn’t begun yet, no one in the village suspected a thing.

(Y/N)’s life was actually quite happy. There was never a dull moment, as she constantly sought new things. Learning medicine? Done. Swimming? Been there. Knife-throwing? That was just a Friday. And through it all, she dragged Engen, much to his chagrin. Even though he pretended to be uninterested, the young vampire never declined your invitations. He was obviously smitten with (Y/N) but oblivious that she reciprocated his feelings.

Everything seemed great until you were transported into a new scene. (Y/N) was dragging Engen into her home. Just as she opened the door, Davon’s voice resonated through the living room.

“They’re going to kill us, dammit. And if they discover that you’ve been helping us, you’ll die, too.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Her father’s and Davon’s heads whipped toward their children. They hadn’t expected their early arrival.

“What’s this about?” Engen demanded. Of the two teens, he was the calmest. (Y/N) tried to mask her concern, but she was still trembling slightly.

The two fathers tried to shrug it off by saying, “It was nothing” and “Don’t worry about it,” but (Y/N) was having none of it. A frown slipped onto her face.

“Don’t say you’ll die, then tell us it’s nothing. Engen is already nineteen, and I’m about to turn eighteen. We have a right to know. You can’t keep us sheltered forever.”

Silence filled the room. Frustrated by the lack of communication, (Y/N) spun around and left the house. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere away from that situation was good enough. Engen followed her until she sat down near the lake. He saw the shake of (Y/N)’s shoulders as she tried to conceal her crying. Not knowing what to do, the vampire sat next to her and offered (Y/N) his shoulder until her tears ran out. Silence followed as the two watched the sunset on the lake. 

“Hey, Engen,” (Y/N) murmured. The young man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted her head upward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was filled with years of unspoken feelings. It was so raw and emotional that you felt guilty for intruding by watching through (Y/N)’s perspective.

When the two finally pulled apart, they looked into each other’s eyes. Gold bore into blue, and blue bore into gold. Engen then stood up slowly and offered his hand to (Y/N).

“Let’s go back. Our fathers should be ready to talk now.”

(Y/N) reached out and grabbed Engen’s hand. “Sounds good,” she agreed while standing up. Before she could stand up fully, though, Engen pulled her into a hug.

“I love you, too,” the vampire whispered in her ear. Heat filled (Y/N)’s face while goosebumps covered her skin. Engen wasn’t usually one to verbalize his feelings. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape its confines.

A dazed look was plastered on (Y/N)’s face. How was she supposed to function properly after that? Seeing the flustered look on her face, Engen smirked mischievously. That only served to make (Y/N) even more embarrassed. He was too damn attractive. Using her mental state to his advantage, Engen swept her off her feet and carried her back home.

When they arrived, their mothers had joined the meeting as well. The women noticed Engen and (Y/N)’s slightly swollen lips and began to snicker despite the grave atmosphere. It helped relieve some of the tension.

“So,” your father began, “I’d like to start by apologizing for not telling you this as soon as we learned about it. You deserved to know sooner, but we didn’t want you to worry. In the end, it made you worry more.”

(Y/N) nodded as if to say she accepted the apology.

“With that, let’s get down to the issue at hand,” Davon said seriously. “There’s this new group of people who call themselves Hunters. They hate all Supernaturals and want to eradicate them. Your father,” he looked at (Y/N), “has heard from some patients that some will be coming to this village. If they catch wind that Engen and I are vampires and you helped keep us concealed, they may kill us all.”

“On whose authority?” (Y/N) questioned. “There isn’t a single law stating that you can’t associate with Supernaturals.”

Engen’s mother chimed in. “They have connections and money. Most places turn a blind eye to their actions.”

“So what can we do? Move somewhere else? If they’re as well connected as you say, they’ll probably have stations in other villages.”

“We’ll just have to carry on as we usually have. Any sudden changes to our behavior may arouse suspicion. A Hunter won’t stick around if there are no signs of a Supernatural.”

The idea of passively waiting for the Hunters to leave wasn’t optimal, but there weren’t any other reasonable options. Everyone in the room looked grim. How could they not? Their lives were being threatened by strangers with a hatred for people they’d never met.

“That settles it then,” (Y/N)’s mother concluded. “We’ll have to prepare before the Hunters arrive, but I’m sure everyone here is getting tired. Tomorrow morning, we can sort out the finer details.”

Nods of agreement were shared. With that, the meeting was adjourned. Engen’s parents said their goodbyes and left, but Engen lingered around the door. He seemed to be waiting for (Y/N).

She quietly slipped out of the house and looped her arms around the vampire’s neck. In response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. (Y/N) pulled away breathlessly but was brought back into another kiss almost immediately.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Engen whispered against her lips. One of her arms unwrapped from her lover’s neck as she cupped one of his cheeks. 

“I’ll be waiting,” (Y/N) smiled. The two released each other from their embrace slowly. Neither wanted to go. After lingering glances, Engen turned and started back to his home.

Despite the grave situation, (Y/N) felt giddy. After years of pining, she and Engen were lovers. The lovestruck expression on her face didn’t leave as she went back inside. Unexpectedly, her mother was waiting for her.

“Did you have fun?” Heat flooded (Y/N)’s face. “Don’t answer that. I’m just teasing you. What your father and I really wanted to do is give you this. If you find yourself in a dire situation, follow the instructions here.”

She handed her daughter a notebook. When you saw it, shock ripped you from your immersion in (Y/N)’s memories. That was your notebook. Why was it here? An uneasy feeling filled your chest at the sight of the familiar item. Before you could question it too deeply, the world blurred, and you were thrust into a new memory.

This time, (Y/N) was in the forest. She seemed to be looking for a specific plant, but it was nowhere to be found. Sticks cut at her knees as she crawled around. A groan of frustration left her lips as the plant evaded her.

“Is this the right plant?” Engen questioned as he crouched next to (Y/N). The plant in his hand had bright red berries and thorns along the stem. You recognized it as hellebore.

“Yes, it is,” (Y/N) exclaimed happily. She pecked her lover’s cheek. “You’re brilliant. Once we get home, my dad and I can make the extract you use to dull your eyes. It’s sad, honestly. Your eyes are so pretty when they glow, but we wouldn’t want any Hunters to see them.”

What? Your notebook said hellebore extract was supposed to be used once a week to relieve stress. What’s this about it being used to reduce the eye glow of Supernaturals? Something was wrong either with your notebook or these memories. These slight idiosyncrasies were becoming more and more unnerving.

Once again, the scene shifted. (Y/N) was at the marketplace buying groceries. Nothing seemed significant about the memory until a Hunter approached her. He was trying to flirt with her but would not take the hint.

Done with hinting, she dropped premises of subtlety and stated, “I already have a lover. Leave me alone.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a Hunter? We’re quite powerful, you know.” 

She’d prefer to retch on his shoes. Had (Y/N) not wanted to arouse suspicion, she’d have caved the bastard’s nose in. As she attempted to walk away, Engen appeared out of the corner of her eye. He looked downright murderous. (Y/N) tried to signal to him to not intervene, but when the sleazy Hunter grabbed her arm, the sound of a fist connecting to a cheek filled the street. Even in the daylight, Engen’s strength was nothing to scoff at.

“How dare you touch a Hunter,” the man screamed. His cheek was already swelling.

“How dare you touch my lover,” Engen countered. He’d wrapped his arms protectively around (Y/N)’s waist. She was trying desperately not to laugh. “Let’s go home.”

The Hunter’s screams of “I won’t forget this” faded as they walked away. You had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t.

That festering feeling followed you into the next memory. In your experience, a Hunter only left a grudge alone once it was paid back tenfold. You could only hope the following memory was a happy one.

The beginning of the memory gave you hope. (Y/N) and Engen were on a walk through the forest. (Y/N) would spew facts about plants while Engen simply listened. Every few minutes, he’d press a light kiss to her knuckles. Each time, without fail, the vampire’s actions caused (Y/N)’s face to heat up. It made him chuckle.

“You’re such a jerk. Constantly teasing me. How would you feel if I just–” (Y/N) grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss. When they pulled away, Engen paused to think for a second.

“I think you need to do that again, so I know how I really feel.” A teasing grin was plastered on his face.

Unable to look at her lover, (Y/N) smacked him lightly with her bag and stepped out of the forest. Right before she made a witty comeback, the young woman looked toward her house. All coherent thoughts disappeared from her head as two familiar figures were being dragged out of the building. Those were her parents. Following closely behind were Engen’s. The silver shackle on Davon’s ankle gleamed in the sunlight.

As they were hauled outside, the older vampire’s booming voice could be heard across the field. He yelled at the Hunters not to touch his wife or (Y/N)’s parents. His pleas were all for naught, though. Four gunshots rang through the air. 

(Y/N)’s knees gave out. Everything went fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening. Bile rose in her throat. Dull pounding filled her ears. Nothing was processing correctly.

Meanwhile, Engen was shaking (Y/N) to snap her out of her daze, but it was futile. The shock of watching her parents die was too strong. With no other options left, the vampire picked up his lover and ran back into the cover of the forest. One of the Hunters spotted them, so it was only a matter of time before they’d catch up.

Engen ran for several hours before he found a cave to rest in. He gently set (Y/N) down, then leaned against the cold stone walls. Reality set in and filled his eyes with pain. Next to him, tears streamed down (Y/N)’s face. Their parents had been ripped away from them in mere minutes.

“I’m sorry for freezing back there,” (Y/N) croaked. “I just… I don’t know. What do we do now?”

Engen absentmindedly stroked his lover’s knuckles. “Let’s just rest for now.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “Love you.” Almost instantly, (Y/N) dozed off, but not before feeling Engen pull her close and kiss her forehead. 

Hours later, they were on the move again. The Hunters were undoubtedly on their trail. It put the couple on edge. Every rustle in the bushes made them jump. Every shadow looked like an enemy. 

“I feel paranoid,” (Y/N) whispered. “Like at any moment, a bunch of Hunters could jump out.”

No response. Engen had a faraway look in his eyes. So (Y/N) poked him.

“What’s wrong? You seem distracted.”

“I need blood. It’s been too long since I’ve eaten.”

Not hesitating, (Y/N) presented her neck toward the vampire. Engen looked conflicted, but before he could do anything, a bullet flew dangerously close to his head. The Hunters had found them. Wasting no time, they ran as fast as their legs would take them. 

Escape seemed attainable, but as fate would have it, they came across a cliff. There was nowhere else to run. 

One of the Hunters stepped into the clearing. It was the man from the market. A sick grin spread across his face as he said, “I told you I wouldn’t forget.” Three other Hunters appeared in quick succession. They moved to subdue Engen. Usually, three humans would be no match for him, but the sunlight and his weakened state were disadvantageous. (Y/N) tried to move toward Engen and assist him, but the sleazy Hunter had other plans for her.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart, or else I’ll blow that bloodsucker’s brain out.” (Y/N) complied. “See, that’s not so hard. Now,” he slid behind her and pointed the gun at Engen’s head, “I want you to watch him suffer.”

(Y/N) watched in horror as a Hunter poured holy water on their hand, then gripped Engen’s face. Holy water burned the skin of Supernaturals. Horror turned to rage. Like hell were these bastards going to kill someone she held dear. 

Using his temporary distraction to her advantage, (Y/N) grabbed the hand that held the gun and tried to wrestle it away. At the same time, Engen bit the hand that covered his mouth and didn’t let go until he ripped off a chunk of the hand. Lingering holy water burned his tongue, but the blood he consumed gave him the strength to shake off the assailants. The once cocky Hunters were scared now.

(Y/N) continued to fight for control of the gun. Every second, the edge of the cliff got closer. One particularly forceful pull nearly sent them both over the ridge. It gave (Y/N) an idea.

“Let go,” the Hunter snarled as he reared up for another tug.

“If you say so.” She let go of the gun. Not expecting the lack of resistance, the Hunter stumbled toward the cliff’s edge, but not before grabbing the strap of (Y/N)’s bag in a flailing panic.

Together, they careened over the rocky overhang. Engen dove to grab (Y/N)’s outstretched hand, but he was too late. 

The memory cut out. You thought that was the end. Few people could survive a fall of that magnitude. Much to your surprise, things didn’t stop there. Instead, (Y/N) woke up at the bottom of the cliff. She was unscathed, other than some rips in her clothing and a missing shoe. How was that possible? If the mangled Hunter to her right was any indication of what she should like, there was no way she should have survived.

Well, since she survived, finding Engen was the first priority. That would be difficult considering the size of the forest. For now, gathering supplies would be essential. The notebook her parents gave her was filled with advice on survival. Soon enough (Y/N) had a shelter. She flipped to the next page and saw a drawing of a flower labeled “Sleeper’s Azolla.” Underneath, it said, “Pollen from the Sleeper’s Azolla can be used to clear your head. Seal it in a vial and use it once every ten years, but never in your village.” Strange instructions, but if her parents had written them, it was good advice.

While looking for food, (Y/N) came across a small patch of flowers resembling the Sleeper’s Azolla. Using the tools in her bag, she tried to extract pollen from the flowers without smelling them. She was successful in bottling and labeling the powder, but some of it had unknowingly gotten on her hands. One slight rub to her nose was all it took to accidentally ingest the pollen.

“What the hell?” (Y/N) muttered as her consciousness faded. Even though she passed out, the scene didn’t change. This had never happened before.

Hours later, (Y/N) woke up, but something was wrong. She couldn’t remember a thing. The uneasy feeling you’d been suppressing came back stronger. This was what had happened to you: waking up with no knowledge of who you were or where you were.

 Everything went black.

Back at the castle, Vector was doing research. Your quick recovery from the bullet wound was suspicious. Humans don’t heal that swiftly or that well. There wasn’t even a scar where you were pierced. He had to inform Engen about this.

“What is it?” Engen grumbled. From a distance, the vampire looked put together, but Vector knew better. Deep bags had formed underneath his eyes, and he constantly lingered around the medical room. The fearsome Engen was worried.

“It’s about (Y/N).” Now, that caught his attention. “I don’t think she’s a human. Her healing rate is abnormal in every sense of the word. I overlooked it before because I was worried, but I can’t do that anymore.”

Engen gripped the armrest of his chair so hard that it broke. “So then what is she?” he asked lowly. His eyes were glowing a dangerous shade of blue. It made Vector nervous.

“I-I don’t know,” the pumpkin-headed man stuttered out. “That’s the problem. There are plenty of Supernaturals who can pass as humans. (Y/N) would have to be awake for us to check.”

“Then you need t–”

Without warning, Rachel ran in and accosted the doctor. “Vector, I found stuff in (Y/N)’s notebook that may help you.” She glanced at Engen, whom she’d interrupted. “Sorry, but this is important. Look at these pages.” The dryad presented the pages on hellebore and polkweed. 

“Rachel, those are drawings and descriptions of plants.”

“They’re incorrect descriptions, though. It says here that hellebore and polkweed extract is used to relieve stress, but that’s not the case. Hellebore stops our eyes from glowing, and polkweed changes eye color. I talked to Bagna and Ihwa, and they confirmed that (Y/N) was drinking it weekly.”

“That would corroborate my theory that (Y/N) is a Supernatural,” Vector mumbled.

“Wait, there’s more. I also found this,” Rachel exclaimed as she produced a vial full of pollen. “It’s Sleeper’s Azolla. One whiff of this, and you’ll forget everything you’ve ever known. This damn notebook says it’s for ‘clearing your head.’”

Everyone went silent. Who would benefit from creating a notebook with false information, and why did you have it? A wail from the medical room yanked them out of their thoughts. All three Supernaturals ran to check on you, but Engen was the fastest by far.

Inside the room, Engen found you curling into a ball as you sobbed. The screech of the door made you turn toward him. Instead of (Y/E/C), your teary eyes were bright gold. It took all of his self-control to stay standing.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. You were the same (Y/N) he fell in love with many years ago. Unable to hold himself back, Engen pulled you into a comforting hug.

You cried into your old lover’s chest. You cried over your dead parents. You cried over the loss of Engen’s parents. You cried over the memories that had been repressed for so long. Every emotion crashed over you in an overwhelming wave.

Engen hated seeing you in so much pain, but what could he do? Even after all these years, he still didn’t know how to comfort you. After half an hour, you passed out. Vector was waiting outside the room when Engen left. The scarred vampire wanted to stay, but for the sake of your health, he allowed Vector to do his job and retreated to his room. 

Three hours later, Vector rushed into Engen’s room. “After I confirmed that she’s an Immortal, (Y/N) went missing.” Panic surged through his veins. In an instant, he’d descended the stairs, where he was stopped by Baekji.

“(Y/N) is at the lake,” the female vampire stated. Nodding in acknowledgment, Engen rushed to the lake, where he found you staring at the stars.

“Why did my parents want me to forget? I’ve lived so many lives not knowing who I really am. Each time, I wandered aimlessly, trying to find a purpose. I hoped that one day I would remember who I was, then I could see them again. But it was false hope.” You turned to Engen with melancholy eyes. “It hurts, Engen. It hurts so damn much.”

The vampire sat next to you. He gazed at the gleaming stars and remembered the silver shackle on his father’s ankle.

“I might not seem like it, but I’ve been mourning you and my parents for almost a century. The pain of losing someone never completely goes away. You just learn how to manage the hurt until it doesn’t bother you. Honestly, I was never able to do that for you. When I saw you again for the first time in that forest, I thought my heart was going to burst. I don’t want you to deal with that kind of pain by yourself. Everyone in the castle is happy to be there for you, especially me.” Engen said the last part a little quieter, but you still heard it. Almost one hundred years, and he was the same man you’d fallen in love with.

“Hey, Engen,” you murmured. The man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted your head upward and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was filled with years of longing and desperation, but most of all, it was filled with pure love.

Engen had spent so long clinging to the ghost of you, but now that you were actually here, he’d spend the rest of his life holding on to you.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully, I'll post again in a timely manner soon!

- Mis

[purplesurveys]

1793

Yesterday

1) What was the weather like? Did it change your plans in any way? It was extremely sunny during the day which kind of sucked, because yesterday my family played host to a family reunion on the rooftop and the weather made things feel a little uncomfortable. In the afternoon, while the sun did hide for a bit it ended up being super humid anyway, so in either case it really just ended up being a super sweaty affair lol.

We addressed it by making sure our aircon in the living room was turned on the entire afternoon, so that anyone who starts to feel super hot or dizzy can choose to go down – which is why it ended up pissing me off when I caught a few people not even trying to hide their bitchings about how hot it was at our place and yet refused to go downstairs when I offered. Complaints are classic Filipino guest things but something I've never learned how to tolerate so I was pretty irritated from the get-go of that damn reunion.

2) What did you do yesterday, anyway? Helped my parents host said reunion, for the most part. I was so exhausted from all the walking and hosting and socializing all over the house so ngl I was knocked out from like 5 to 8, right after people left ha. When I woke up earlier this evening I spent a few hours playing a game on my phone and now I'm here winding down with a couple of surveys. Not a very eventful Saturday which is how I prefer my weekends to be.

3) Did you eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner? What did you have? I didn't have breakfast as usual. Lunch wasn't a full meal for me, I just got like 3 pieces of sushi from our reunion spread. I also didn't have dinner and just made a cup of coffee which is still right next to me.

4) Did you do some form of exercise? What? If going up and down the stairs 200 times counts as exercise then it would be that.

5) Who did you spend the most time with? My sister. Out of the huge crowd at home, we knew each other the best so we stuck together, lol.

6) What television shows or movies did you watch? I finished Gyeongseong Creature super early on in the morning (like, technically I was watching it from Friday then it bled into the midnight hours of Saturday haha), then I also played a couple episodes of Friends for the very few people who were in my age group in the reunion.

7) What time did you get up and go to bed? I got up at like 9. Went to sleep at 3 AM earlier.

8) What was the best bit about yesterday? I can't decide between watching Gyeongseong Creature and getting to eat sushi.

9) What about the worst? Being bombarded with work messages on a Saturday. My work! Makes me! Depressed!

10) Did you talk to anyone on the phone? Who? Why? My mom needed help ordering additional food for the reunion so she called me up while she was doing last few errands at the grocery so I can take care of it.

Today

1) What time did you get up? I just got up and it's currently nearly a half hour past 8.

2) What are your plans for today? I'll be taking my family to my favorite ramen place for lunch, then later in the afternoon I'll be seeing my close friends for our super late Christmas party.

3) Have you eaten any meals yet? What did you have? None yet. I don't mind not eating for a few more hours because I'll be eating a lot today lmao, so I'd rather save up the hunger so I can fully pig out for both lunch and dinner.

4) Are you planning on seeing your friends or boyfriend/girlfriend? Yup! I'm seeing Angela, Reena, and Hans later for dinner/Christmas party. I don't think we've been together since...August? In any case, we'll be at our fav Korean spot so I'm looking forward to it.

5) Does your favorite television show air today? Breaking Bad ended 11 years ago.

6) Have you spoken to your parents yet? Nopes.

7) How many texts have you received? I haven't gotten anything yet for today.

8) Are you planning on going to bed early? I never do on Sundays because I never look forward to Mondays.

9) Have you done anything remotely productive today? Nope. The full load of my day will start in like an hour when we head to our usual Sunday mass and after that I'm going to be traveling everywhere hahaha. BGC for ramen, then I might have to shop for clothes for my Seventeen concert next week, then head home so I can drive out for dinner with friends.

10) How much money did you spend so far? Are you planning on spending more later? None yet as it's only 8 but I am for sure going to be pulling out my card a few times today.

Tomorrow

1) What time do you have to get up tomorrow? Around 8.

2) What do you hope the weather will be like? Chilly but not too chilly. Cold weather feels so good that it makes me miserable when at work, because when the weather is comfy like that all I want to do is rest. So it'll be nice if it were cold, but I hope it's not too comfy!cold that all I'll think about is why I'm not in bed, lol.

3) Is there anything you’re dreading about tomorrow? The fact that I have work and that it's Monday.

4) Is there anything important you need to do, or can you just relax? Nope, can't relax.

5) Do you have plans to see your friends? No, I never have time to during weekdays.

6) What do you hope will happen tomorrow? I hope my schedule will be nice to me.

7) Are you going to wake up at home, or somewhere else? Just at home.

8) If you don’t have any plans, what do you think you’ll end up doing? I'll be working.

9) Do you have to get a work out in at some point? Nope.

10) Will you be working or studying at all? Yes.

[jolliestlolli]

Jolly's Friday Blog Update - Dec 9th 2022

Nearly forgot about this shit lmao.

What a week. I could really go for some MJ right about now but it's looking like I probably won't be having a green Christmas if you know what I mean.

So let's get down to brass tacks: Writing. I haven't done a lot of it this week, there I admitted it. To say I didn't write at all would be inaccurate, but the most I did was some extremely self-indulgent crap that is not meant for virgin eyes to read. Other than that all I really did was make some minor edits to stuff I've written with a very close friend of mine, and even then I know I could have probably done more. Oh well, there's always the weekend.

I had my first ever CT scan this week. Lately my health has sort of been on the decline, and we're hoping to get some answers soon. The truth is I haven't really been well for a long time now, I've been dealing with varying degrees of stomach trouble since I was at least 10 or 11. You might remember in my Author's Notes on my latest Ao3 story The Greatest, I mentioned how I recently got very very sick and was still not 100% recovered at the time that story got uploaded. I'd say I'm doing a lot better but the reality is I'm still dealing with the same issues I've been dealing with for close to a decade now, I've just gotten to a point where I'm like "This is a normal level of pain for me, therefor I'm perfectly fine". IDK what they'll find on the CT Scan, if they'll find anything at all. I almost hope they do just so I can finally get some damn answers. Whatever happens, I'll say this: I'll be happy if I never have to chug an entire bottle of Barium Sulfate again for the rest of my life.

As far as self-care is concerned, I at least have a decent morning routine in place: Wake up, shower, cook myself breakfast, take a walk around the neighborhood to try to wake myself up. Sure, there's room for improvement; I need to start remembering to brush my teeth everyday before they rot right out of my mouth. Oh also! Last night my mom found this old journal I was using back in 2020 to keep track of everything I ate and drank that day, and what my stomach pain was like. I can't entirely remember why I stopped. I feel like it had something to do with the fact that on some days, I couldn't remember what I ate, or if I even ate anything at all. Or maybe I eventually just couldn't be bothered anymore. Who knows. Bottom line, I'm gonna try to get back into the habit of writing in that journal.

Anyways, on another topic: My best friend and I finally started watching the 3rd and final season of Dead To Me last night, which I have been waiting for for a stupidly long time. If you don't know what Dead To Me is, stop whatever you're currently doing, go on Netflix, and watch it right fucking now. You will not regret it. The fact that it hasn't gotten nearly the level of international recognition that certain other Netflix shows have gotten is a crime and an injustice and I will do everything in my power to rectify this mistake. The basic plot is: Jen Harding is a mother of two that was recently widowed after her husband died in a hit and run. At a grief support group, she ends up meeting Judy Hale, and the two of them form a close bond. But Judy has some skeletons in her closet, and she's not even the only one.

My shitty summary probably doesn't even do the show justice, it's just that good. I can't even go into any real detail without giving away a small fraction of the many twists and turns the story takes. You have to see it to know what I'm talking about. We're about 3 episodes in and I'm just super nervous to see how the whole thing concludes, and I have slight PTSD from the last time I got super hyped over a new season of a show I love to pieces only to be horrifically betrayed... (*cough* *cough* The Promised Neverland *cough* *cough* *cough*)

Anyway that's all I can really think to talk about for now, see y'all on Monday. I'll go ahead and leave you with this screenshot of a funny exchange I had with my best friend last night:

[limalatina]

"I see your Spanish has improved," the Latina noted. Her lessons in high school were...less educational and more hands-on back then, so it was truly a miracle Giselle had retained anything from that time. "I figured you would've stopped trying to learn it after we broke up. You always seemed more interested in me rather than the language anyway." She couldn't fault her ex for detaching from everything surrounding their relationship, but letting go hadn't been as easy for her as one might think. Santana couldn't even spend a night in her old bedroom without being flooded with memories. Mostly because she'd never had the heart to send any of Giselle's things back to her after she'd left, so it'd really been her own undoing. "I know I still catch myself unconsciously doing things that remind me of you," she admitted, twirling the empty glass of champagne between her fingers as she contemplated everything. She'd wanted to fix things between them for so long, the fact it was finally happening felt a bit surreal. Santana didn't want to do anything to fuck it up, and the thought that she would terrified her more than it probably should have. "I do trust you with my heart, it's not that. It's just...it's never belonged to anyone else. I'm not used to someone having the kind of hold on me that you do. I guess I was worried you'd decide I wasn't worth it." She knew another rejection would close her heart off from ever trusting someone again. Santana was just looking out for herself in case Giselle changed her mind. "I'm glad to hear you trust me, though. At the end of the day, all I want is for you to be happy." It felt like she'd said that a hundred times, but everything she'd done truly had been with the best intentions in mind. Even in Santana's own weird way, she showed she cared. "I believe the word you're looking for is pendejo, at least in Mexico, but there's a bunch of words for it," she said with a smirk. "I'll sleep on the floor, I don't mind. But you're crazy if you think with no class on Monday that there's any chance I'm letting you out of my bed."

Happily accepting the refill to her champagne glass, Santana continued to listen as she tried her best to process everything. It excited her that Giselle wanted to get back together, but she also knew it'd been three years since her ex had been in a relationship, so she couldn't help but question what her emotional availability was. For anyone, Santana would be a lot to handle. It helped that they'd dated in the past, but jumping back in with someone as needy and possessive as her had to give any sane person pause. The Latina was every clingy girlfriend x1000. "I just want to make sure we're both on the same page before rushing headfirst into this, which is unlike me, I know," she admitted. She supposed they both had the therapy to thank for that. "I'm not expecting you to change, but there are certain things I'm insecure about that we'll need to address. We don't have to get into all of it here because I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about." The last thing she wanted was for their newfound relationship to start off on a sour note, which meant they needed to have those uncomfortable conversations. Without boundaries, this whole thing would fall apart. "Please keep your voice down," she said in a lax tone, almost in annoyance, as Giselle nearly fell out of her chair at the sudden contact. "Unless you want to cause a scene. In that case, we could just fuck right here." The look on her face proved she was only teasing, but her tone couldn't be farther from innocent. She was dead serious, and her ex of all people should know that when Santana got like this, there was really no stopping her.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there's not a lot of privacy anywhere," she stated, throwing her hands up to emphasize the amount of people with eyes on them. Santana wished she'd just booked a private yacht instead, but she thought this would be more romantic. She hadn't expected their conversation to go like this, or to be this turned on, so now she was regretting her decision. "Fine, but I'm getting an extra side of avocado with whatever we order," she said, displeased that Giselle seemingly got a kick out of torturing her. She slipped her foot back into the heel of her shoe and sighed, picking up her menu to browse all of the options. "Something about oysters in Mexico sounds like a bad idea, so we're definitely not doing that. Fish tacos do sound good though. What are you in the mood for?" Santana had actually worked up an appetite walking around the streets of Cancun all day, so maybe a break from the flirting to eat some first class Mexican cuisine wasn't such a bad idea. They could work their way back around to the sex talk at another time. She'd make sure of that.

"I don't need you rubbing it in, but yes, this is me being an adult and apologizing for flip flopping. And I would say thank you, but I'm taking it back since you couldn't just say 'it's water under the bridge' in English." Giselle huffed playfully, though it was adding to her frustration at this point, and she knew that Santana knew that. But considering the hell she'd forced her to suffer through for weeks, it was only fair that she get tortured back, she supposed. And leave it to Santana to just do it again. It caught her off guard, as usual, yet she still had half a mind to translate most of it. "Uh..did you ever doubt that? Lately, I kinda understand, but even with all of my bullshit, you should have still known you could trust me with your heart." She pointed out. Even if things had gone south after the break up, she had never gone out of her way to break the other woman's heart, nor would she have done so, even when she was mad at her. "And the feeling's mutual. Now, anyways. You've gone out of your way the last few weeks to prove that, so I trust you." She added. Maybe she hadn't been entirely sure of any of this when she'd gotten back to Lima, but Santana had proven herself time and time again since then. Listening to the fake ass pleading, Giselle rolled her eyes teasingly. "Eras un...how do you say asshole in Spanish again?" She taunted. "Keep that up and you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight."

Giselle being the one to suggest that they possibly label this was a bit wild, all things considered, so she didn't blame Santana for questioning it and wanting her to be sure. It was quite the extraordinary leap for them with the way the past few weeks had played out, but she nodded anyways as she grabbed the champagne bottle and refilled her own glass, and then Santana's. "I refused to date anyone else in the three years we've been apart. El corazón quiere lo que el corazón quiere...or whatever." Santana had only said that a handful of times back in the day so it was etched into her brain now, and she was sure that she'd said 90% of it correctly. "I meant it the other day when I said I wanted you. I'd take you in any way at this point, but we've both stated that we want this, so why not?" It did seem to be the most logical choice, and Giselle was positive that they weren't getting any smarter when it came to each other, so this was the perfect timing for it. "But those two were mutually exclusive. Either way, we should just be together." She decided. Taking a few sips of champagne, Giselle should have read the facial expression on Santana's face but since she didn't, she almost jumped out of her chair at the feeling of a foot tracing along her flesh. "Santana!" She groaned as she chugged back more of her drink, and as soon as Santana leaned back, she knew this was about to be the part where she toyed with her. "In my defense, I didn't know we were getting on a boat." She pointed out. "But for the record, us being on a boat's not an obstacle. Not for me, anyways." Giselle could make do just about anywhere when she was needy, so this boat was no different. Nodding at the topic change, she was about to pick up her own menu until Santana went right back to speaking Spanish, and the pang of arousal settling between her legs meant that she'd understood every single word of that. "Real food, Lopez. Think about real food right now and maybe you can have me as dessert." She teased, lifting the menu up and starting to look through, needing to concentrate on something else herself.

[sysig]

Honestly shocked that Jonathan Harker hasn’t been requested as a Friend Shape up to this point

[aceofshitposts]

So, yesterday was my last day at my job. I don't usually ramble about life here but it was 9 years (almost exactly! My anniversary was on Tuesday) and I'm having a lot of feelings about it that don't exactly fit on twitter

So, I think most people have clued in by now that I work with dogs. I'm a certified dog trainer and I also did part time grooming. For 9 years I've done this, I'm good at it and for the most part I've enjoyed it!

There's ups and downs to anything, dogs can be terribly annoying and uncooperative when they want to be. There were the occasional fights, injuries, having to go to the vet. People were not always reasonable and blamed us for anything. Had someone try to get us to pay his vet bill cuz his dog got pneumonia once.

But I loved the dogs. I've known most of them since they were puppies, I've seen some of them into seniordom and some to death. I'm not gonna try and pretend the emotional labour was nearly as much as a vet tech but man was it sometimes a lot.

I still don't really feel like it's real, that the landlord pushed us out for a possible measly increase in profit from the space before they tear the building down. It still feels like Monday I'm gonna go back and all my dogs will be there and we'll just carry on.

In some ways I'm relieved cuz I know I was having some really bad burnout. I mean burnout is what got me this lousy medical condition two years ago. The last three years have been particularly rough and I often found myself doing 3 people's worth of work

But damn am I going to miss those dogs. I always sort of hoped I could get a couple months off then return to the daycare. But things don't always work out the way we want.

It was nine years, almost my entire adult career. I'm gonna try something else for a while, mainly being a creative because I do love making things with my hands. But man

I dunno. I'll probably return to animal work at some point.

It's just. Everything's a whole mess 😂 I wish things didn't end the way they did. I wish we had more time.

Anyway here's some pictures.

[anisstories]

I Don't Want This

Chapter 6

The Next Morning

When Y/N awoke in the morning, she panicked, she didn’t know this room, and then she turned around. There was Anakin asleep, the sun shining on his face. His hair seemed to become even more golden. Y/N still felt tipsy. She looked at the foot of the bed and there were her clothes. It was 5 in the morning and no sound was heard. I doubt anyone’s awake, I’ll change, leave a note, and get a cab to the company. Shit, how strong is a Flameout? I'm falling back into a drunken state. Before that could happen she stood up, put her clothes on, went to Anakin’s desk grabbed a post-it, and started to right:

Hey Anakin,

I didn’t want to wake you up. Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Sorry for being such a bother. I promise I will never drink when you're around.

Next time I see you we'll be "happily married".

Warm Regards,

Y/N

Heiress to the Aridam Empire XD.

Anakin awoke to the sound of shuffling in his room. He turned around and saw Y/N writing something on a sticky note. The events of last night came to his mind. WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE? I should have kicked her out yesterday. She'll pay at this moment. Anakin got out of bed and stalked over to her. Y/N turned around only to be met with Anakin's bare chest. His pectorals glistened in the sunlight. "Hey, sorry I didn't mean to wake you. I was just about to leave. Sorry for-" "Last night I brought you into my home and you know who saw? Padmé. You already ruined my relationship. So you're going to stay here and we're going to be caught sleeping together. I don't care if your dignity is at stake." Anakin said as he pushed Y/N onto the bed. "Strip" Anakin said his voice and face were void of emotion. "w-what do you m-mean strip?" "Strip. Don't make me repeat myself." She felt a weight next to her. "I don't want to touch your disgusting body. So strip and go back to sleep. If you don’t I’m going to have to strip you myself, and you won’t like that." Y/N felt so embarrassed but she started stripping, fearing what Anakin would do if she disobeyed. She hesitated when she reached her panties. "Keep your underwear on." He opened the comforter for her. She stepped in, her back facing his chest, and felt Anakin's arms wrap around her bare waist. She felt so vulnerable in only her bra and panties. She knew that if someone walked in she would face the biggest embarrassment of her life. She started to squirm, to get away. But his grip tightened. "I said go to sleep," he growled. Anakin wasn't human anymore. He had gone feral. The love of his life was probably lost and all because of this stupid girl that laid next to him.

There was no going through to him. He roughly turned Y/N around. "Stop squirming. You said you'd follow my lead, so do it." He pulled her closer. Y/N started hitting his chest, muttering I hate you. Anakin grabbed her wrists. "Stop" his voice an octave lower. Y/N stopped. I hate you too, Y/N. Once we get married, I'll make your life a living hell. Anakin started to rub her back. Trying to get her to sleep. He wanted this to seem natural. He finally heard light snoring from Y/N. He went to grab his phone but feared the messages he would find there. He placed it back and started playing with Y/N's hair to help him fall asleep.

At 7 there was a knock at his door. Y/N jolted but Anakin held her tighter. He pulled the comforter low enough to reveal his bare chest and Y/N's bra. Then he heard Owen's voice "If I don't hear shuffling in 1 second I'm coming in." Of course it had to be this asshole. He grabbed Y/N's chin and started nuzzling into her neck. This caused Y/N to start whimpering. "You’re a piece of shit, you know that?" she said as she tried to push him away. “So I’ve heard” he mumbled. Anakin got tired of getting pushed away, so he flipped them over. He was hovering above her. Y/N’s arms got tired so he just pulled them to her side. This caused the comforter to fall off the bed. Owen walked in to see Anakin on top of Y/N. "Oh Maker. Fuck. Oh shit, I'm so sorry." Owen stuttered. "Can you stop staring at MY girl?" Anakin growled. "I wasn't staring at her. I was staring at you. Are you that insatiable?" Owen started laughing. "What do you - " and Anakin groans. Y/N accidentally brushed her leg against Anakin's groin and he felt a strong surge of pleasure coarse through his body. Shit, I was supposed to be mad. Not get turned on. "USE PROTECTION KIDS '' Owen closed the door and Anakin’s alarm clock hit it. He could hear Owen's laughter down the hall.

Y/N looked at Anakin’s sweatpants. There was a large bulge in them. When I brushed against it, his face contorted, I think it was out of pain. Y/N started brushing her knee against it. Anakin's eyes nearly popped out of his socket. "Mm..stop." Anakin was becoming less mad. Fuck this is bad... "No, this is payback for this morning." Y/N started brushing faster and harder. "Y-Y/N, h-hold o-o-oh Fuck!" Anakin spit. He fell on top of her chest. Y/N would've been mad. But when he fell onto her chest she had better access to that spot. Anakin started thrusting his hips into her knee. Y/N's name falling out of his lips. At this moment Y/N realized he hadn't groaned out of pain, he had groaned out of pleasure. So she pulled her knee away. Anakin's hips thrust into the air. Y/N heard Anakin moan out in pain. "Y-you, you’re a bitch" he growled. “Says the guy who forced me to strip.” She tried to get up only to fail, as Anakin had a death grip on her waist. "Hey let go," Y/N grumbled. Anakin refused. His breathing was labored and his forehead had a layer of sweat. "It hurts. Give me a fucking second!” he yelled. Y/N rolled her eyes, muttered I hope you die of pain and reached for her phone, or that’s what she thought at least. When she opened “her” phone she saw a bunch of messages.

Anakin I can’t believe you did that.

I fucking knew it. You’re a piece of shit.

I hope you get thrown into a ditch.

I can’t believe you got with my best friend.

I hope you both die.

We are done.

Don’t look or try to talk to me.

Y/N dropped the cellphone. It fell on Anakin’s head. “I’m already in pain and you dropped a cellphone on my head. I fucking hate you.” as he looked up he saw Y/N looking at him with guilty eyes. “I thought that was my phone and I read the messages Padme sent you. I’m sorry I fucked up your relationship,” she mumbled. “What do they say?” he asked, his tone cold and detached. Y/N started to read aloud the messages and Anakin felt his heart crack piece by piece. “Oh well, it was bound to happen,” he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. “How can you say that? I mean you have her as LOML on your contacts. You said you were gonna get us out of it and suddenly you're okay with getting married to me?” she said. “You don’t even feel a tiny bit sad. Don’t you want to scream or cry? If that was me I'd be very outraged." Y/N looked out the window. "Can you be logical? You think we were going to convince our parents. That was a false hope Y/N. They were gonna force us to get married. Padme isn't the type to share her boyfriend so its end was inevitable anyway." Anakin grumbled. I can't make her life miserable. She is suffering just as much as I am. I mean Y/N's here saying sorry for ruining my relationship. And it wasn't even her fault. I should be the one on my knees begging for forgiveness. I forced her to strip. Anakin got up and knelt before her. "Huh?! Anakin what are you doing?" She asked as she sat up. "I'm sorry. I was just so mad and so sad that I had lost Padme. I lost all human decency and forced you to strip. I'm sorry. I know that's not enough but I'm afraid that's all I have." Anakin's voice cracked. He was so ashamed of what he'd done.

Y/N felt bad. She knew he had done those things out of rage, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt her. She reached for his arm and pulled him up. “It’s okay, I know you did them out of rage.” Anakin’s face lit up, he was so happy he could hug her, as he was about to, she opened her mouth. “But, can I ask you for a favor?” She asked. Anakin blankly looked at her. She panicked and spoke up “I’m sorry, never mind, I just-” “Hey, I didn’t even answer. What is your request?” Anakin grabbed onto her shoulders. “I was wondering if you could convince my father to let me finish my Master's?” She asked while looking at her lap. “I don't know if I could convince your Father” Y/N’s eyes started to get sad, “But I can convince my father to pay your college tuition and you can go secretly.” Y/N jumped up and into Anakin’s arms. He lost his balance so before he fell he pushed himself onto the bed. His cheek falling against her lips. “Oh damn, I smeared your lipstick.” “It’s fine.” Y/N started to giggle. “Thank you, Anakin,” she smiled so brightly and softly, but she was also crying, his heart fluttering. “Yea, no problem.” Anakin's voice sounded wistful, but Y/N didn’t hear it, she was too busy swimming in his clear blue eyes. “I never noticed,” Y/N whispered. Anakin hummed, asking her to continue. “Your eyes, they look like a lake.” she giggled. “They are pretty. If you looked up at the sun, your eyes would probably glitter like a real lake.” Anakin felt so flustered. No one ever complimented his eyes. Well, they had, but not in the way Y/N had. It was always nice eyes. You probably get all the chick with those eyes. “Thank you, your eyes are pretty too.” “Your E/C eyes lit up. “They get all bright and shimmery when you're excited about something. They get dull when you’re sad or frustrated. When you get embarrassed they glitter more than they’re supposed to.” Anakin started leaning in. The moment was shattered when they heard a commotion downstairs.

Taglist

@songbirdcannabe

@blondekel77

Note:

My summer classes have started so I will begin to post on Mondays. Thank you for understanding.

[heresathreebee]

Brackish and Briny Waters (five)

[Ralph Lamont x Female Reader]

Summary: Ralph apologizes and you've got baby brains, but sometimes life does nothing but kick you down. Previous Masterlist Next

Tag(s): 16+ | 1.7k words | more angst, baby fever, alcoholism, ghostly vibes

AN: GODDAMN Part 5 took me a lifetime to finish. As always no beta readers just poorly side eyeing this by myself and hoping it makes sense

THE NEXT MORNING

You barely stir when you hear the door open. You've all but forgotten last night, and yet you flinch when Ralphie tries to cuddle with you. He sighs somewhere near your ear and hugs you from behind anyways, lips brushing the nape of your neck and breath fanning over your back as he simply lies there, quiet as the grave. 

There's no bruise but you can still feel his hand gripping your arm from last night. "You're being a huge dick…" 

"... I know." 

That is not good enough. You roll over to face him and watch his face twist when he notices the tract marks of dry tears on your face. He swallows and almost unconsciously takes your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of your palm in a way that was meant to comfort him rather than you. 

"I'm sorry." He opens his mouth again but he flounders for words. After a deep breath he continues. "We can't call Reagan. Because he won't do anything for us…" 

You wait impatiently for him to explain. 

"Sweetheart, if we called Reagan last night, he would have fucking laughed at us. It is step one down that slippery slope to the couple who cried wolf." He put a hand on your shoulder and looked you in the eye, "do you really think he would have done something?" 

You think about it. If Ralph hadn't stopped you from calling him, what would you have said to Reagan? 

I smelled exhaust fumes. Not an emergency, he would say. 

I think he found us. What do you want me to do about it, too late now, he would ask.  

We're in danger. I'll send a squad upstate, they should be there in 4 hours, he would joke. 

"It was real," you insist. "I smelled fumes." 

"I know. I believe you." 

You squint at him threateningly and he doesn't give an inch. He doesn't seem like he's mocking you. 

Ralph could be an asshole, but Reagan was infinitely worse. At least one of them gave a shit about your safety. The realization Ralph was right scared you more than anything. You were alone in this… 

Well, alone together. 

You sigh and bury your face in his neck. Your hair is tangled as shit and probably tickling his face, but your husband simply wraps you up in a tight embrace and holds you against him. It's all the apology you need. 

END OF THE FIRST MONTH

Adjusting to your new life hit you like a sack of bricks early on a Monday morning. You woke up from a dream where you still lived in your tiny little apartment two minutes walk from everything. In a reality which felt more like a fever dream, Ralph was late for work, donning a tie and tweed jacket and kissing you goodbye for the day. 

You never realized how much space there was in the new master bedroom. In the apartment, a queen sized bed nearly touched the walls and barely left room to creep around two night stands and a dresser, but in the new house you had room to lay on the floor and stretch, maybe put another piece of furniture in here like a bookshelf or something. 

And the whole damn house was like that. You had an entire second floor to claim as your own! There is almost too much space… too much space for just the two of you. 

God there's that thought again drifting into your mind unbidden, unfurling like a fern at the first droplet of sunshine. How many people does it take to turn a house into a home? Three should be plenty, your mind offers. 

You busy yourself with measurements, regrouting the loose tiles in the kitchen floor, and scrubbing the blackened hell out of that downstairs bathroom. It seems to come to life beneath your hands and you can feel yourself getting excited to show guests the improvement. 

The thoughts of turning your little twosome family into three persist over and over until you can't stand it any longer. Maybe it's finally time… 

Ralph's late getting home by 5 minutes instead of 5 hours but he still looks tired. No mud tracks on his pants or hard set eyes. He's halfway up the stairs before you realize he's probably going to bed early. 

"Hey!" 

Ralph stops like it pains him. His head sags and his hold on the railing is tight like he'll fall if he lets go. The way he's wobbling he might. He is barely able to meet your eyes as he glances over his shoulder and when he does he simply grunts. 

"I made dinner," you squeeze your hands together behind your back, "angel hair pasta and that sauce you love." 

Ralph's eyes flicker in thought. "Be down in a second." 

You wait nervously to see if he does come down. What if this is a bad idea? What if he doesn't take you seriously? Oh god what if he hates it, what if he calls you an idiot for even considering it? 

Ralph does come back downstairs, hair wild from running his fingers through it. He seems to gain a small amount of energy while eating, not wanting to talk himself but asking how your day has been going. 

You're definitely rambling right now. Ralph listens and listens, chuckling along but at some point he grows concerned and envelopes your hand with a worried expression on his face. "Jesus, I've never heard so many words come out of your mouth at once, it's like you're writing a dissertation over there. Are you OK, baby?" 

You snap your mouth shut. God, you hadn't even come close to talk about kids for all your rambling. And then there was that weird smell… 

Your blood runs cold as you recognize it. You lean a little closer to Ralph and he almost instinctively flinches away. If there's one thing you are sure of, one thing you could swear on god– Ralph Lamont has never flinched away from a kiss before. So he has something to hide. And that something has a sharp scent and explains his slow reactions and tired eyes better than anything else could. 

"Have you… have you been drinking?" 

It's the way he can't meet your eyes when you ask him. You know. It's beyond out of character, so much so that it's confusing and a little frightening for you. 

A little drink here and there is, to you, to be expected especially considering the wealth of your new company. So why hide it? Is there something else he's not telling you?

You suddenly feel sick and too hot, ripping your hand away from his and getting up to leave the table. 

He knows you get in your head sometimes and practically yells your name to stop you. "I'm… I don't know why I…" 

Ralph sighs and buries his face into his hands, ashamed. All this suspense is twisting knots in your stomach. You sit back down gingerly, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. 

"Ralph," you warn, "you had better start explaining yourself right now before I lose it." 

Ralph stares a hole into the table and worries his lip. The truth is he doesn't know what to say because he doesn't know why he did it. The students are easy, you are easy. Even in the toughest of times, at his lowest, he didn't drink so… what the fuck was coming over him?, he asked himself. 

Something clicked. It rolled like fire in his belly given dry wood, smoking curling to the top of his throat and out of his ears. "They hate me." 

"Who? Who hates you?" 

"Everyone." 

You looked him in the eye for the first time tonight and saw something dark looking in there. It makes you uneasy. "What makes you think they hate you, baby?" 

Ralph's grip on his fork tightens until his knuckles are white before he gingerly sets the dishware down and deflates. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sardonic grin. 

"You wouldn't understand… and how could you? You never leave the house." He looks at you and there's a growing instability rising in his movements. "You… you don't see it. It started out as little nothings that I could ignore because it didn't matter that they didn't like me: I was new.  

"Then it became lots of these little nothings. Staring and whispering and hushed silences. Tip toeing language and poking and prodding and testing me and my limits and it just… it just… it never got better…" 

Rumors. It dawned on you that his frustration seemed intimately familiar to you as you had had to change schools once or twice due to a few terrible rumors that snowballed and got way out of hand. And you can imagine the sort of rumors that accompany a man with little interest in making friends who has a wife nobody knows anything about. 

If you wanted to stay here long, you would need to change a few minds. You set aside your fear for a moment and make him look at you. You can see the unshed tears in his eyes and feel pity for him. 

"I want to do that dinner party," you announce. "With all that's gone on, you probably didn't have the grand introduction you deserve. Let me show them how much you mean to me." 

Ralph's shaking his head but he already knows you'll win this fight. For him it feels like begging for something he doesn't even want. He agrees because he already promised you could when you were ready and you needed to find new friends asap. 

His sleep that night is fitful and the room's shadows seem to reach out like claws seeking his immortal soul. When the haze of whiskey finally dies down in his system he sleeps dreamless and wakes to feel somehow more hollow with despair than before. 

Ralph Lamont has the distinct feeling things are going to get a hell of a lot worse before anything gets better…

@werwulfy @fundamentally-lazy @escape-your-grape @mimiscappinisideblog @go-commander-kim

[outthefryingpan]

Your writing is amazing ! I'm a sucker for fluff personally,, so if I have to suggest something,, it'd be cuddles. Just cuddling after a long,, busy day. Maybe in Winter,, a specially cold day,, those are the best days for cuddling,, and more so if it's with such a hot (pfft) monster like Grillby ! Just giving ideas,, I'll be happily reading anything you update here next. Have a nice day. :)

Cold Nights

Pairing: Grillby/Reader

Rating: Everyone

Notes: I’m a sucker for that too! I very much enjoy this suggestion, thank you! Send more any time u like :^> This is set on the surface! Most of the pieces I write will be set this way unless stated otherwise.

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

You can’t believe how late it is when you finally begin walking home. Pulling your phone out and pressing the home button tells you it’s only a few minutes away from midnight. Your feet ache, and you want nothing more than to just crawl into bed.

Luckily for you, it isn’t a long walk to Grillby’s from where you are, maybe a little over 5 minutes, but you really hadn’t anticipated it being this cold and blustery out. Then again, you didn’t anticipate your boss holding you back as late as she did either, so you use that as your excuse for being jacket-less. In reality, it probably wouldn’t have been much warmer out even if you did leave on time, but you’re just going to ignore that. You unceremoniously shove your phone back into your pocket and quicken your pace, holding your hands together in an attempt to conserve some of your already waning warmth. 

In hopes of distraction, you let your mind begin to wander. Initially your prerogative is “think warm thoughts”, but of course that only leads you to thinking of Grillby. It’s inevitable. He’s the warmest thing you can think of.

You think back to when he first opened up his bar on the surface, and how he would stay open all night, every night. The new influx of customers quickly overwhelmed him, and so he changed his hours to accommodate a new goal of his, one he’d adopted upon reaching the surface. He called it the, “not work myself to death” rule. You, nothing more than a new friend at the time, had laughed at that. It was one of the first jokes he’d made around you. You laugh again now, thinking about how horrible a job he’s done in sticking to his goal. Maybe it’s just unrealistic for him, you muse.

No, that isn’t fair. He drastically changed his hours when he first got here. Underground, he’d been open every day from noon to 3AM. How he’d managed a 15 hour work day every single day all by himself was absolutely beyond you, but he told you that down there, he really didn’t have much else to do. 

In a more private setting, after the two of you had grown closer, he confessed that when he lived underground, he felt a sense of obligation to be open as often as possible, to act as a sort of home base for those monsters who were struggling, or just needed someone to help stave off their loneliness. 

Here on the surface, things are better! But they’re a lot different too, a lot busier. And so, with some kind pushing from his friends, he had ultimately decided not only to tighten his hours, but to hire some help as well.

You consider that to be the start of a deeper relationship blossoming between the two of you. You had offered to wash dishes and help with cleanup, and he gratefully accepted. You started talking more, spending more time together, and... The rest is history, you suppose. 

Now, he takes Sundays off, and closes at 10PM on Mondays. His daily hours are still pretty packed, but he has more servers and kitchen staff to help out with them. 

Suddenly, you blink in surprise at yourself as that reminds you of something.

Today’s Monday! That means he should have closed a while ago! 

You sent him a text earlier when you found out you would be late home and told him not to worry, but you totally forgot that it was possible for you to end up working later than him. That is a rare occurrence. 

Well then! 

You become excited at your findings, but quickly realize they mean that he may be sleeping. Rats... You need to be quiet coming in, then.

A chatter sounds in your skull just as the bar comes into view. It isn’t quite snowing out, but the biting, billowing wind is strong enough to drain most of the heat from you. Your fingers feel numb as they blindly wiggle around in your pocket, looking for your keys even though you’re still a little ways away from the front door. By the time you reach it, you’re putting in a pretty significant amount of effort to minimize your shivering and get it unlocked. It’s situations like these that make you thankful to only have a few separate keys to keep track of on your key ring.

The door itself is pretty new, but still creaks lightly as you push it open. Then, you almost lose your grip on the knob when a particularly strong gust of wind shoves you in through the front door. You stumble forward. 

Startled as you are, it doesn’t take you long to recover, close the door firmly behind you, and lock it with a huff. You’re just glad no one is around to have seen your little blunder. Hand still on the door, you sigh out your relief. Grillby would definitely be alerted by the door swinging open and slamming into the wall. He’d be alerted if you face-planted into the hardwood flooring, too. 

After taking a moment to smooth yourself out and appreciate the internal temperature of the bar, you glance around the dark room. As you expected, tables and chairs are neat, lights are off, and not a speck of dust can be seen. Sometimes you wonder if Grillby gets off on extreme cleaning. You snicker quietly to yourself.

The rise in temperature is great compared to the freezing nightmare you’d endured outside, but it isn’t anywhere near enough to stop your shivering. So you beeline for the staircase that leads to Grillby’s apartment- or more accurately, your ticket to comfort. It’s a little hard to see, and you nearly trip once on the way up, but the reward you’re met with upon entering is well worth it.

Instantly, you’re flushed with a wave of warmth.

Grillby sits on the couch in the living room that faces the door, knuckle pressed to the side of his mouth and book in hand. Your entrance alerts him, and his head turns up so his eyes can meet yours. They look tired. Yours do too.

He can see you shivering still, and it makes him frown. However, the beginning of a small smile finds its way onto his face when he lifts a hand and waves you over. Both of you know what comes next. You step toward him eagerly. 

Without a word spoken between the two of you, he places the thick, old looking novel down on the table in front of him, and opens himself up to you. Rather than sitting next to him like he had expected, you opt for plopping down directly in his lap, arms around his shoulders and legs on either side of him. He lets out a surprised grunt, but it quickly dissolves into a chuckle as his arms find their way around your midsection. You relish in the warmth they offer.

“You’re cold.” He starts.

“You’re warm.” You reply, though it’s muffled by the fabric of his thin shirt. He hears you despite this, and a fiery brow quirks up. 

“Aren’t I always?” Grillby asks. You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, but nod against him regardless. Thanks to him, you can feel your shivers mostly subside.

“Yea, but I especially appreciate it when it’s freezing out.” Comes your voice once more. Sighing, you feel his arm begin to rub slowly up and down your back, a soothing, sweeping motion that transfers his heat to you even faster. Suddenly comfortable, you’re reminded of how totally exhausted you are.

“I always tell you to bring a coat.” He tries for a chastising tone, but can’t help that it comes out as soft as it does. His voice is just a mumble now, reaching your ears easily despite its low volume. This is in part because he’s taken the liberty of placing his cheek against your head.

“Heh..Yeah...” You concede, burrowing your face further into him. It’s a long moment before you speak again. “I didn’t think you’d be up. Aren’t you tired?” At this question you look up at him as much as your current position will allow, cheek still smooshed into his shoulder.

His response is low, and doesn’t come immediately, which kind of gives you an answer in itself: Yes.

“Mm... I am..” He confirms your suspicion. A little more quietly, he continues. “But you were still out, and...” The elemental’s head lazily tilts, and the flames constantly spiraling off of it follow the movement. You catch him glance out the window. As if wanting to help illustrate his point, another forceful gust of wind rattles it just slightly.

A little guilt twists your stomach. He always worries, and you should have known he would be waiting. You should’ve fought harder to leave on time. You expect he’s going to finish the thought, but you already know where he’s headed, so you preempt him.

“You didn’t need to wait up for me...” You say softly. 

The response you get is hushed, but still quite matter-of-fact.

“I did. I wanted to. ...I like going to bed with you.” His tone is so simple, so casual, so... sweet. He’s just speaking honestly, yet it affects you so much. The guilt you feel morphs into adoration, and the feeling makes you grin. You’re sure he can feel it against him, but duck your head back down anyway.

“OK.” Your voice is muffled once more. But the smile in it is audible. A short, breathy hum escapes him, the sound like a sleepy little laugh.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other. The calm rise and fall of his chest slows further, and the surrounding blanket of his warmth cradles you softly. 

You don’t want to, but you eventually have to turn your face to the side. As comfy as he is, it’s a little hard to breathe that way. This movement seems to take him a bit off guard, and rouses him from a drowsiness he’d almost let get the better of him. You feel and hear the deep breath he sucks in as he shifts, bringing himself back off the brink of sleep. He props himself back up against the couch, holding you still as he does. You let out a large yawn, and gently pat his back.

“OK...Time for bed?” You ask quietly. In his sleep-addled state, he can only nod. Without another word, arms around your middle become hands on your waist, and he lifts you off of him and gently places you on the cushion next to him. Slowly he stands, stretching. His flames crackle and pop with the action, and once he’s satisfied he lets out the breath he’d been holding and turns to you with a bright orange hand extended.

For a moment, you consider asking him to carry you. You’re exhausted! But another look at his slightly lopsided posture and barely open eyes reminds you he’s right there with you. So you make do with just grabbing his hand and using it to help pull yourself up. Once you’re on your feet, you two begin a slow stroll to your shared bedroom, and step inside. 

The blinds are drawn, so the only light permeating the darkness you stumble around in to change is Grillby himself. You end up in just your underwear and a big T shirt. Following your lead, he removes his own top and bottoms, leaving himself only in his briefs. 

It’s only about 45 seconds after you enter the room that both of you are crashing into bed. You simply let yourself fall face first. He as usual is a little more graceful about things, gently lifting the covers for himself, and helping you work your way under them too. Your tired body sings in relief as you sink into the mattress, your back to the flaming monster beside you.

Unsatisfied with this, you fight the sleep off for a little longer to wiggle a bit. A questioning hum leaves him, and by the sound of it, he’s working pretty hard to stay awake too. You turn under the covers, trying not to muss them too much and he seems to get the idea. Warm hands land on your sides again as he helps you turn toward him, eager to pull you closer. 

It’s a little brighter when you face him, but that’s never bothered you. Especially not when you’re this worn out. He sighs happily at this change, and his arms circle tightly around you, a hand finding the back of your head and threading itself through your hair. 

His digits comb against your scalp ever so gently, drawing a pleased hum from your closed lips. Not many people know (because how could they? He certainly isn’t going around talking about it), but Grillby is quite a physical being. He had some old hang ups that made it hard for him to embrace that about himself at first, and is polite and accommodating to a fault sometimes, but once you’d made him comfortable enough he gave in to his desire to hold you more often, and hold you closely. 

Once again, you thank the fucking stars for that. Especially on nights like these. Gone is any trace of the icy chill that consumed you earlier. 

Without missing a beat, you place your own hands on his broad back, now giving him the same treatment you had received earlier. He’s larger than you, as most monsters tend to be, but it doesn’t hinder your efforts to gently rub your arm up and down along his spine, fingers only deftly making contact. The hand not doing this splays out across his shoulder blade, then creeps up to rest on the point where his shoulder meets his neck. It wouldn’t be long now for either of you. Your eyelids close, but he looks down at your calm form for a little longer. 

A murmured utterance of your name grips the last inklings of your attention. Your eyes slowly drag themselves open again, and a drowsy, “Hmn..?” escapes you. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks, leaning down so his mouth is closer to your head.

“I love you...” Grillby breathes out. You smile, and lightly kiss whatever of his skin is closest to your lips. That turns out to be a spot on his chest, right under his collar. There’s a small smooching sound as you pull back.

“...Love you too.” You exhale against him. With the last of his effort, he throws a leg over yours, crooking it to bring you closer still, and fully embrace you.

Those are the last words spoken that night. All that follows is the dull crackling of flames and the soft sound of breathing as you both allow your bodies the rest they’ve been aching for.

[misskittysmagicportal]

All You’ve Got Is Gold Part 1

FandomAU!: Billy Delaney/Cormac McNamara x Female OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, mostly steamy fluff.  Guys this ended up being long as fuck.  And it’s really only chapter one. Or Part 1.

Jeanie leaned over the bar at Ewan's to pour herself another whiskey, ignoring the bartender as he chastised her. "C'mon lass, don't the wee ones file in to the grounds tomorrow?"

"Wee?" she gulped around her swallow. "Ewan, they're pubescent. You know me though, I like to have a bit of a glow every new semester. That way the parents think I'm truly invested in the well-being of the brats." Jean waved her glass around in the air. "Ok, not brats. Most of them are well-behaved and genuinely interested in learning. Not like the little bastards in America. I'd have 40 to a classroom back there. Saint Fergus barely has 40 students in the entire school."

Ewan took it as a sign and gave her a generous pour one more time, "Heard you cannae keep any professors for the pay. But your husband-"

"EX. As of last spring," Jean corrected.

"EX-husband found some new blood in a few of his University students."

"Aye," Jeanie imitated the Scottish brogue with perfection. "They're all in the corner over there with Dr Purves now."

She had half a decade to assimilate to the culture of the small, boring town just outside of Aberdeen where she followed Gordon and married him without any family or a job. He became head of the Physics and STEM department at the University of Aberdeen, working on projects and female students alike. Jeanie, having abandoned her Master's in Education, was really only qualified to student-teach at a local boarding school. Before long, lack of interest and the economy drove the numbers down to four or five dozen and a position of Headmistress open. At least it was a place to live and an existence that kept her mind off everything else.

"I would say don't look now, because here comes one of his students, but my darling who can keep their eyes off him." Ewan pointed behind his friend with damn near literal hearts in his eyes.

Jeanie glanced over her shoulder as a young man, early 20s? She couldn't tell. But he approached her at the bar. Her first glance became a double, and nearly a stare. Embarrassed, she whipped her head around quickly and blushed in Ewan's general direction. "Sweet Virgin Mary," she exhaled under her breath.

"I normally go by Delaney, but I suppose in certain company Mary will do," a soft Irish lilt.

Jean slow blinked as the bartender broke into a cheshire grin. She took a deep breath and turned towards the man now beside her and held out her hand. Blood pulsing in her ears because.. he was stunning. "Brave of a Celt to set foot in the land of Picts. Even braver for him to be in the presence of the biggest asshole in all of Scotland."

"Well from what I've heard she's more of an Ice Queen than an asshole," he squinted before smiling brightly. Green eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. "Your.. partner put me up to it anyways. You know, say the bit about the ice. Sorry," he blushed but still held on to her hand firmly. "I've heard you're rather pleasant from the others. Just aloof as it were"

"EX!" Ewan and Jean exclaimed together, and the young man blinked responsively. "No sorries. Cold-hearted bitch is what some of the 6th years call me when I confiscate their illegals. Headmistress Jean Turner, but the two friends I have call me Jeanie. Drink?"

"Just one? I'll take 5. I have to catch up with the others." He hooked a thumb at the group of obnoxious men groping the female students who hung off of them as if they were celebrities. Taking what he was offered, chugging it quickly and shuddering. "Billy. Delaney it is. Well occasionally."

Jeanie and Ewan watched as he basically pounded every shot placed in front of them. Squinting off and on, as if he was trying to adjust to the ambiance. "Is it hot? It's hot in here. God I hate people. Those people. I will never fit in with the misogynists and knobs who prefer rugby and football to actually learning about the world." He pulled at the collar of his sweater before taking it off and draping it over Jeanie's chair. He wore a striped tee shirt underneath "Sorry. Sorry. I've got my nose in tech and books and maths algorithms most days. I forget how to socialize, so I really just want to blend in with the norms."

"You.. are.. fit." Ewan sputtered.

Billy snapped back to attention, his mind having drifted off to the same group Jeanie's eyes kept staring at. "What?"

"He's saying you are fucking fit, mate" Jeanie gaped.

"My body? I'm not really certain about that. I'm rather spindly wouldn't you say?” he shrugged while his cheeks flushed profusely. "My arms? Is it my arms? I swim. Clears my head from all the clutter." He was rambling now.

Jeanie and Ewan started laughing. "Relax! we're taking the piss, love. Your every move is being scrutinized. Now why abouts did Dr Purves send you over here? Surely he has fucking with me on his mind. Not unusual, humiliation has always been the name of the game."

Billy made a gesture that resembled adjusting non-existent glasses. He immediately dropped his hand and pulled a tenner out of his pocket. "To melt the ice, Gordon said. He gave me ten quid to hit on you."

"One of his students. What a lovely parting gift. I guess you're worth the loss of the house and the car," Jeanie stood back slightly to properly size him up.

Billy bit the entirety of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows, "I reckon you're worth more than a tenner to sleep with."

Jeanie blinked a few times, head tilted to the side to make sure she heard correctly. "SEX?!" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I don't exactly know what all of this," she waved her hand down his body, "would be doing even in the vicinity of sleeping with this," pointing to her own.

Confusion came over his face, "Am I supposed to be.. Is there something wrong with you that I don't notice? I, I can be kind of oblivious to loads. I think, really, Gordon goaded me into coming over here for my benefit as much as his amusement. I don't have too much experience, but you seem quite lovely you know. Your hair is," brows furrowed again but in thought, "Nicely red in this lighting. Reminds me of my friend from Ireland. Hannah."

Jeanie pinched the bridge of her nose as Ewan audibly guffawed from beside her. "Saints preserve us," the Scotsman said between gasps for air. "Donnae if you are taking the piss now, bloke, or are you really this bad at pulling birds."

Billy grimaced, the entirety of his face beet red. "Honestly, I never make it this far. I guess they usually pull me and I let them?" He started to fan his face, "seriously,,how fucking hot do you keep this pub?" His forehead bent forward to rest on the metal and wood counter of the bar.

Ewan covered his mouth and ruffled the curly head in front of him. "What a wee babby, Dr Purves sent into the lion's den. You just drank half a bottle of my best whiskey and mortified yourself in front of my favorite woman in this whole country. Maybe you ought to drink some water and have a sit for a few. We'll give you something to take to the bell-end in the back."

Jeanie and Ewan's eyes met, and she bit back a smile before leaning over to wrap an arm around her husband's latest protege. "Oh Ewan, I don't think it should be only a story. Why not give the evil genius a bit of a show. Right now he can see Mr Delaney is headed towards a spectacular crash. Im embarrassed. Mr Delaney's embarrassed. You're without very expensive whiskey. Gordon will never let anyone live this down for the semester."

She put her mouth near Billy's ear, "Ten quid is worth SOMETHING. Don't you think? Just look at me." He obliged quicker than she expected. Emerald eyes gazed upwards at her while the heart banged wildly in her chest. "What comes next?"

"I reckon I ought to put my arm on your waist. Right?" his voice now low in her ear and a hand slipped around her hips to draw her as close as possible.

No further guidance was needed as the liquid courage kicked in. Billy stood up and took Jeanie's face in his large hands before he drew her into a rather passionate kiss. Hers instinctively buried in his hair, their tongues dancing as the thought he hustled her entered the back of her mind. How was it that just a few minutes ago he looked ready to vomit at the thought of trying to come on to anyone, not just her. Now he was kissing her like they were Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Jeanie’s back slightly arched as Billy dominated her personal space with his height, a hand dangerously on the curve of her backside.

Ewan held his own face, eyebrows lost in his bangs as he watched the two of them go at it for well, he lost time. Glancing up he noticed just about everyone else in the pub was watching too. Gordon positively green with envy and turning purple with anger. Ewan saw him lean to a colleague and mouth, "That wasn't the fucking deal."

"Job done you two," he cleared his throat and practically shouted to break them up.

Jeanie's mouth was cold as it kissed the air. Billy had stumbled backwards a bit, mouth turned down ever slightly in a whoops motion. He walked, swayed really and floated by every single patron, including the group of men he came in with earlier. Fingers pulled at his bottom lip before he passed a devilish grin over his shoulder in Gordon's direction.

Jeanie and Ewan gobsmacked, but pleasantly amused, looked at one another. Mischief in their eyes as Jeanie noticed Billy's sweater draped over the bar. "Mr Balderston, I think I have a grad student to visit this week. It seems Mr Delaney might need his sweater because the Scottish nights get awfully cold."

Orientation came and went, and the students seemed to settle in quicker than normal.  Quite possibly because this was the lowest attendance in the school’s 150 year history.  They had been in danger of shut down, but Jeanie was informed that first Monday by the Board of Directors that an anonymous group of donors had decided, against their wishes, to purchase the school.  Even if no students came back the following school year, or they were down to only 15 or 10 or 5, Saint Fergus would remain open for unknown reasons.  

To say she was relieved was an understatement for Jeanie.  Much needed repairs were being made, and someone had come to put together a state of the art security system.  Which really confused the faculty and dwindling staff.  Who would steal anything from this junk heap?  Even their books were falling apart.  Except they weren’t.  

By the end of the first week, the girls in their dormitories and in the hallways were abuzz with brand new Literature and Maths books.  They were suddenly interested in Oscar Wilde and Pythagoras.  Jeanie watched as three 4th years sat in the windowsill and audibly cracked open their copies of “The Happy Prince,” stars in their eyes.  

“Have you ever seen anyone as good looking as Dr McNamara?  Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay attention to anything else but that voice,” she held her book against her chest.

“Oh c’mon Siobhan.  It’s all about the eyes.  I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them.  Proper green.  If he sticks around, I’ll tell Daddy to talk to all of his barrister friends. Get them to enroll their kids here next year.” 

The third girl was clearly in a daydream out the window, “All I heard today was blah blah blah ‘important in oratory history of Ireland’ blah blah.  Lemme tell you, he can give me an oral exam any day.”

Jeanie cleared her throat and the students jumped nearly a mile high.  “It would do you girls a kindness not to sexually harass our newest teacher at Saint Fergus.”  The smallest hint of a smile on her lips.  “Honestly, how is it that I'm headmistress here and have no bloody clue who this mysterious Dr McNamara is?”

“Well rumor has it, Miss, that he bought the school.  Dr Purves hired him for a project at the uni, and he asked to be right in the thick of the school.”  Siobhan shrugged.

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh he’s installing the security system and having a new science laboratory built,” the daydreaming girl chimed in.

“I thought it was a grad student that was teaching here this semester?  Have any of you heard the name Billy Delaney?  I’ve been looking for him the last week or so, but I can't find him in Aberdeen housing.  I’d like to return his sweater.”  Jeanie’s face flushed pink, and the girls all cast a knowing grin in her direction.

“Has Miss got a crush herself?” Siobhan teased.  “There’s no student teachers this year, but did you say Billy Delaney?”  

“Yes.  Does that name sound familiar to you too?”  

The girls stood and handed Jeanie paperback books one by one.  A stack of them, young adult novels that had grown incredibly popular the last few years.  A stone wall with a glowing green and gold light graced the cover.  “A Green Pool of Light: Emerald City to Oz  Book 1” blazed across the top in that standard stereotyped font that represented all things Irish.  The daydreaming girl, Aila Jeanie would come to find out, opened her copy and ran a finger down the page.  “Yeah, he’s like a gender bent Hermione in these books.” 

Jeanie frowned and flipped through the pages.  The girls all started to laugh, not mean-hearted but in the way kids do at adults when they become lost in the world of anyone under 20.  “That’s Dr McNamara, Miss Turner, and he’s living in the Boys Dorms.”

Jeanie blinked a few times, too many times in disbelief.  The girls dissolved into hysterics and headed off to their next set of classes.  Things maybe just got a bit easier but harder at the same time.

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

Jeanie stared incredulously at herself in the mirror.  When exactly was the last time she showed up to any man’s room wearing only a coat and her underwear?  Or well, a sweater in this case.  She waited until the school was dark and quiet, she couldn’t risk one of the students seeing her dressed this way.  On her way to do a dance of seduction.  No, that’s humiliating.  This was all humiliating.  

What in the hell am I  even doing? She thought.  But it was too late, her legs carried her into the halls and across the floors and up into the West Wing where the boys slept. Tip-toeing quick and stealthy to the only source of light on this side of the school.  

Jeanie took a deep breath and knocked on the open door.  His back was to her, sitting with one foot up on the chair, a knee drawn up to his chest in the most awkward of positions.  His dark head was bent over an abundance of little digital boxes spread across a desk that he tinkered with under a magnifying glass.  Several computers and laptops spread around the room running codes attached to various projects simultaneously.  Lost in his work, he ignored her.

Sighing heavily, Jeanie knocked louder this time.  She raised one hand up the door frame, leaning in the most tempting pose she could muster at 11pm on a Thursday.  His head popped up, and he only glanced over his shoulder in her direction before going back to his work.  

“Well took ye long enough to find me, Miss Turner.  Wanna see what I’ve put together for the school?”  he queried without paying any attention to her attire.  

Jeanie felt the bile rise in her throat.  How in the hell was she ever going to feel better about herself when this man wouldn’t even acknowledge her?  Was it too late to just slip back down in the shadows and melt away like she never existed?  Still she took a breath and made her way to the desk and stopped directly behind him.  She bent forward over his shoulder, her hair brushed against his face and neck.  There was a nearly inaudible hitch in his breathing as she picked up one of the boxes.  Did she make him nervous?  Good, she thought and chewed her lip to prevent a smirk sneaking through.

“Well Mr Delaney.  Or is it McNamara?” She studied the box carefully and poked at it with her nail.

“Doctor” he interjected huskily.  He was nervous.  “I’ve got a PhD,” he corrected.

“Are you even old enough for a doctorate?!” she retorted.

“I’m 24, thank you very much.  I suppose that’s quite young to have several PhDs, but I don’t really keep track.  If it makes you feel better, I'm also a chef. Cooking is just science after all,” he said almost dismissively.    “Oh, That is L.I.S.A. you’re holding.  Large-scale Interface Security Application.”

Jeanie snorted; she couldn't help it.   “Do you mean an alarm system?”

“No it’s a specified security application that only I know how to program and,” he caught himself.  “Yes.  It’s an alarm system.”  He rolled his eyes and gently took the machine back from her and placed it amongst the others.

“If you're working with Gordon on some kind of secret project, why are you teaching Literature?” Jeanie launched into everything without really meaning to. “You know Dr Delaney or whoever the hell you are, several of the girls brought to my attention that there’s a character in those young adult novels written by Hannah O'Flaherty. “A Pool of Green Light?” They are quite popular with our 1st-4th years.  You're Billy Delaney aren't you?  That’s why you gave that name in the pub the other night instead of your real name.  That being Cormac McNamara, am I correct?”  She placed her hands on hips hidden in the mass of wool and cable knit.  

"Delaney is part of my last name. Hyphenated.” once again correcting the headmistress.

 "Don't see much of that in men" 

"Well it and my brain are about all my parents left me,” he moved to face his chair towards Jeanie and abandon his project. 

 "Well I bet they're proud of you, Cormac. Or Billy.  Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively.  “You lot discovered.. what's it called?" 

"Dimensional Dark Matter Transport with the possibility of Inter and Temporal" 

"I mean, Portals. Or to put it in tv nerd terms: Beam me up Scotty" 

"Precisely!” Cormac exclaimed and stood up excitedly.  “And your ex-boyfriend-" 

"Husband" 

“Yes, husband.  Well couldn't have been good at it if he's your ex.” He bit a finger absently, staring off towards the ceiling.  Then snapped back to attention quickly,  “Well he wants to find a way to make it.. Portable. Not just in plotted locations around the globe. And my business partners, em Hannah and Brett if you will, would like it privatized. Dr Purves, he wants the highest bidder." 

"Military?” Jeanie blanched at the thought.  Then her voice drifted off, “So the books ARE real.. You three are real.  Hannah hid the stories in plain sight for the entire world to discover"  And for the first time, she noticed a framed photo on the vast desk.  A trio of happy young people: red-headed girl, pretty with large blue eyes.  A floppy haired, tan surfer type.  And a tall, lanky boy with oval glasses and severely parted hair starting to curl.  Jeanie took the frame and traced her fingertip along the glass. “Sarah, Zack and Billy.  This is like finding out Harry, Ron and Hermione are living, breathing people.  And here you are, in my school.”

"I could show you if you want but.. Miss Turner, why are you only in a sweater?" Cormac stepped back and lifted his glasses and put them back down. He took them off hurriedly as if he was embarrassed to be wearing them.  Turning once more to face her "Is.. Is that MY sweater? You're only in. Jeanie, Where are your pants?" 

"Well I planned on seducing you Mr.." 

"Doctor" -

Jeanie sighed as if she had been defeated, "DOCTOR Delaney-McNamara" 

"Well Ive mucked that up I suppose,” a deep crimson set across his ears.

" I mean you can have your sweater back,” Jeanie arched an eyebrow seductively. Pulling the sweater over her head to reveal only a pair of her nicest black panties and bra underneath.  Nothing else.

"Thank you it's quite my favorite-" Cormac’s eyes widened when he noticed the headmistress in front of him wearing nothing but lingerie.  He squinted briefly while scratching his head.  “Oh.. Jeanie. That’s..” his voice drifted off lost in shock.

Ignoring the embarrassment growing in her chest, Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest.  “Why in the hell did you take your glasses off?”

“Oh, em.. Hannah always tells me I’m far more attractive without them.” he shrugged.

“Just like how Clark Kent is only slightly, by a molecule,” Jeanie pinched her fingers together, “less sexy than Superman with his glasses" 

"But his glasses are fake,” Cormac ignored the obvious joke.  “Right now I can just see shapes. Lovely, curved shapes! but only shapes." waving a hand in her general direction again.

Jeanie sat down on his bed without the sweater, to protect her now she just decided to go with her original plan. She crossed her long legs and leaned back with one hand back on the mattress. "Ok give us a look with the glasses on, Delaney.. Mcnamara?" This was frustrating.

"No, I reckon I'll have the kids call me Cormac" his hands on thin hips as he glanced upwards in thought

"Yes, erase that line of authority between yourself and 11-15 year olds. Don't underestimate them, Billy.  Or Cormac.  Or whatever.  You are probably the smartest professor Saint Fergus has ever had, but you’re handsome.  My girls will eat you alive" 

"I wouldn't go that far!" he was exasperated for some reason. 

"You have five PhDs and can’t even legally rent a car in America yet," Jeanie pointed out. 

Cormac waved her off dismissively.  “No!  Not the smart or genius part.  That is true,” he agreed without pretension. “It’s the handsome part,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.  

“Look McNamara, I can’t tell if you’re being humble or an asshole.  Your constant squinting and inflamed cheeks are ruining my perception.”

"Inflamed.." he touched his face  "It's rather distracting. You in your.  I may realize now that's your intent. I'm not really NEW to this, uh women coming on to me. It's just not always quite so forward?"

 "Had I known you were a doctor of  Quantum Mechanics, my approach would be a little less intense. 10 quid or not, you were the one kissing me last night." Jeanie got up off the bed "Ill go, but can I take your sweater with me? The students don't need to see this" 

"Oh, em do ya have to? You're already here, and I'm sure quite lovely to look at." 

"Cormac put your glasses on" 

"Really?" he was adorably confused "I would have to take them off if we-" 

"Have sex?" 

"I didn't mean to imply- I've never really-" he nervously put his glasses back on. Then started fiddling with his hands and chewing on one. 

"No fucking way!” Jeanie sat up quickly “But you're-" 

"Oh please don't say hot." 

"Well-travelled?"

"I am not completely virginal, I'll have ye know! I've done tings. SEXY tings. I've put my mouth and fingers in places on a woman. I'm just picky about where I’d put my penis."  

Jeanie’s amused now, she can’t help it. An eyebrow raised and a laugh ready to escape because he's pacing around and gesticulating wildly now. "Are.. are you getting more Irish?" 

"MAYBE I AM!" he shouted louder than he meant to, then unexpectedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Jeanie laughed at the absurdity now. "Cormac. Or Billy, whatever you are more comfortable with." She kneeled on the bed coming to the edge of it. "We don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to justify your virginity; that your business. It’s a patriarchal construct anyways to make us feel like we have to engage in sexual activity.  Then when we do, we’re trash.  It’s a no-win situation for anyone. I LIKE you. We have all school year to get to know one another better."

“I think Dr Delaney-McNamara, but Cormac works just fine for you” his tone all at once softer and deeper.  

There was a weird electricity in the air, which very well could have been the obscene amount of tech equipment in the small dorm room.  It could have also been that the atmosphere switched so fast from mortification to that moment your body knows something is going to happen.  Jeanie’s head began to swim when she realized the young man in front of her was unbuttoning his jeans to step out of them.  

“Bloody hell...” was all she could utter before he wrapped her up in his arms.  

Jeanie’s hand on Cormac’s hip and the other tangled in his hair as they found themselves in another kiss.  Mouths dancing together.  She sat back and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of her now.  His skin was hot almost like a sunburn.  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jeanie thought maybe a literal electricity had settled in him from using the portals so often all these years. Their tongues pushed back and forth, she realized his body began to feel similar to one of those static glass balls.  The kind you press your hand against and every single hair on your body raises?  It was strange and exhilarating and comical all at once. 

The thought was fleeting though because Cormac’s lips made its way down Jeanie’s neck.  The breath caught in her throat as he bit softly before trailing to her chest.  His large hand gripped the flesh of her hip, snaking it around to grab at her backside before settling it between her thighs.  The other struggled to unhook her bra while in their current position, his annoyance eliciting a giggle.  

Managing to roll them so that she was on top now, Jeanie deftly reached behind herself to finish the job.  Her breasts free, Cormac took one in his mouth.  His tongue was warm against her skin as he began to suck and lick at a nipple and the flesh around it.  Alternating between each hungrily, hand still lost in between her thighs.  A  finger began to trace the fabric of her panties.  

Audible gasp now, as Jeanie fumbled to reciprocate any way she could.  Kissing his forehead?  or rocking her hips against his hand, she began to float outside of her body. What was she doing?  Trying to feel wanted after all of this time?  Maybe give the other adults something to gossip about over the weekend.  Attractive new professor, the benefactor of Saint Fergus, fucking the boss his first week in.  Jeanie was his boss, but also his subordinate?  Because Cormac, with Brett and Hannah, owned her livelihood now.  

“What a fine mess we’re in, Delaney,” she managed amongst the new spate of kisses.  

Ignoring Jeanie’s frank statement, Cormac took to nibbling her throat again. Exchanging now for harder bites, just enough to let her know he had the upper hand. Fingers deftly pumping rhythmically with the pulsating of her body. He found that part of her with ease. The button Gordon never could without neon arrows. 

“I walked through an alien portal at sixteen and made one of the greatest scientific discoveries none of us can talk about,” That Irish lilt heavy in her ear. “A fine mess has been the last decade of my life, Ms. Turner.”   

There was almost a reckless abandon as Jeanie unexpectedly came. She cried out; it echoed off the dorm walls briefly before Cormac clamped a hand over her mouth. Their eyes both wide before they lost themselves in a fit of giggles. 

Lying beside each other now on the bed, Jeanie felt self-conscious while Cormac absently twirled a finger in her mass of red hair. She felt his green eyes staring as she traced the infinity symbol with the tip of a nail on his chest. Their breathing patterns quickly marched in time together.

“Not sure why I have a gut feeling your timidity was a fucking game,” Jeanie spoke without a hint of anger. More like curiosity. 

“Only just a little. I am far more capable of handling people in small doses.  There's a  certain anxiety hanging around the average university student. I finished undergrad in a year and graduate school in another. Never really fit in with most people my age. I thrived in a boarding college like this one. Never more than 15 children a class. Miss Murphy let me do as I please because I kept mostly to myself, even when she and the others were strangely codependent on my brain.”  

Cormac’s eyes still trained on Jeanie while he spoke. “I didn't mind. I DON'T mind. My tinkering and projects work bloody fantastic now!” he exclaimed with pride. Those long fingers combed through Jeanie's hair. His gaze became nostalgic, “I transferred my AI tech into the lab at Aberdeen.  There's my  personal version.  She's asleep right now,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the wall of monitors. 

Jeanie grimaced, “She?!” 

“Oh yes! SILVIA! I suppose she'll become LISA’s big sister.” 

“You invented a primitive android.” her response was incredulous.

“No no. SILVIA was a lie detector I installed artificial intelligence in to play ch-..” Cormac caught himself. For the hundredth time that evening, “I suppose. Yes,” he tapped a finger against the soft dimple in his cheek. 

“You suppose!” Jeanie reeled with laughter once more.  

Cormac’s face flushed pink, “You know what I did to you was just basic anatomy that’s easily taught by reading a damn book. I reckon you'd be interested in what else reading has taught me about a woman's body.”

And so it began. 

[rayofdawnworld]

A Good Girl

So, for context: Earlier this year our darling @saiyanprincessswanie got sick and needed surgery. I being a worried friend, reached out wished her luck promised her a get well fic, and then prayed for her. All good and dandy. But not. See, the incredible idiot that I am, NEVER POSTED THE FIC!!! I PUT THE STORY IN MY POSTED FILE BUT I DIDN'T GIVE IT TO HER!!! I. Am. A. Moran... But, this has allowed me to re-read my work and I can make it better. So, I'm posting part one now and I'll post part two next Monday. Our beloved @saiyanprincessswanie deserves more than just a one-shot at this point. I'm so sorry my Dear. I so hope you like it.  

For those interested, Tag list is open for this fic. 

Moodboard by me. :)

Grey!Steve/Sassy!OC

A Good Girl

Part One- Warnings: None

She was a good girl. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that. Steve looked at the young man once again stunned. Not only was the young woman beautiful, she looked soft and sweet,he could hardly believe that she looked so young. If asked, Steve would have sworn the beautiful woman was a young girl of eighteen and not a woman of twenty-seven, but she did have an inner lining of steel running through her, she had a fire, judging by the way she was ranting with the younger man. Steve found himself drawn to her, captivated in a way that no one ever managed to captivate him. Not even peggy. A man can get up to some very bad things for just a chance at getting a Girl like her. He thought to himself with a half formed idea backing at the back of his head. 

In hindsight, he was glad that he came with the idiot. They had met in one of his Support Group Meetings. The young man was in bed in the “act” when his girlfriend was dusted. But the relationship had been rocky, and he had been thinking about an old girlfriend of his, more and more. From what he gathered the girl had been left alone. An orphan, she had gotten a scholarship in Forensic accounting where they had met. They had dated throughout their college years but had sadly drifted apart when they hit the workforce despite having both been accepted in a prestigious firm. The stress had simply been too much. That's when things had ended. 

One of the many consequences of the snap had been unemployment. Companies had gone bankrupt either because they had lost all or most of their workforce or because the owners and shareholders had evaporated and there was no one to sign the paychecks and pay the bills. The snap had caused more problems than solved them, at least on earth. Such, in point, was the young girl's case. Steve hadn't understood why she had quit her job at the firm and had gone to a much smaller firm with a significant downgrade in income, but now he understood. She was working as a waitress in a rundown diner. The smaller firm had lost everyone. She had been the only one left. 

Steve had only just managed to dodge a flying cup aimed for the young man but alas, she didn’t have a very good aim. This argument had been going on for the better part of forty minutes. She knew she was going to get fired, so she may have decided to go all out. 

The idea had been to go with the dolt, as moral support, go talk to the girl. He had sat in a booth, while the younger man had sat in another. Her face had soured from the sweet smile she had the moment she had recognized her ex-boyfriend. She had been polite, asked him what he had wanted, he said he wanted coffee and a chance to talk. She had agreed and went to get his order. Her boss had given her ten minutes that would be reduced from her lunch hour. He listened in thanks to his superior hearing. It had been a simple conversation at first. The air stiled when, the Moran had said that he missed her. Things became frosty when he informed her that the other woman had been dusted. It took a turn for the worst when he said that he wanted her back. At first, she just laughed, then… Then the argument started. That's when Steve got the truth. He had always suspected that there was something off about the sap story the other asshole had shared with the group. Now he knew. My poor sweet girl. Don’t worry I'll  take care of you. 

Sadie was done. Just done. All her life she had been a good girl. She always did what the nuns told her to do. She never broke the rules, worked hard, was kind to all even when she was bullied. She did her damn best, to tell the truth, she saved herself waiting for “the one”, she had been faithful, loyal. She was humble, modest. And for what? To be called boring and humiliated by being compared with another woman. She had felt so small when Kevin had said that, what’s her name was sexier and better in bed. She had rebuffed that she had been a virgin when they had met. Not to mention that he never wanted to try anything new, telling her that she shouldn’t try to be someone she wasn’t, whatever THAT meant. Kevin then had the gall of saying it was all her fault he slept with the other woman. She should have done more, tried better. Learned more. When she asked him acidly, if the point of exploring one's sexuality was to do it as a couple, the bastard had accused her of making a scene. She had quit her job and left the apartment they shared that very day. He had called her accusing her of being childish and overreacting, she threw her phone away, just in case he could track the serial number. Sadie wondered how long it would take the firm and his new flame to find out that eighty percent of his so-called excellent work was done by her, at home. In some misguided and deluded idea of good to him.

The world had changed a year after that. She was still hurt. But not in the way most thought. She was hurt and angry at herself. For not saying what she wanted. For not realizing what a jackass Kevin was. But above all, she wished she could have punched him. And now here he was… Telling her how sorry  he was, what a mistake he had made, and how much he missed her and how much he wanted her back. Everything went red after that, she didn’t know what she said but she did remember throwing something at him. She nearly hit the client sitting in the booth behind them. She was going to get fired for that. She just knew it. She didn’t care. It was a lousy job anyway. She did on the other hand get to do something she had dreamed of ever since they had broken up, no ever since she had caught him cheating and left him. It wasn’t a punch, no. But it had been a slap. And a very big mighty slap. 

Later that evening, Frank had been gracious enough to “let” her finish her shift, with no job and slim prospects, she was still smiling. Her smile dropped when she saw Captain America himself waiting outside for her with an apologetic face. Now that she thought back on it. Kevin had walked in with him. Before she could say anything the tall Adonis took a step forward and smiled minutely.

“I’m sorry about today. I didn’t know the whole story. If I had I would have stopped him from coming here.” Steve Grant Rogers was talking to her. Apologizing to her. Sadie smiled stunned but sadly.

“It’s alright. Kevin has always had this way about him. It takes a bit for you to see past his bulshit.” Steve chuckled and shook his head. We’ll have to do something about this language though. “I’m not surprised you fell for it. You're a good man, Captain.” 

Hearing that did things to him. She was perfect in every way. Sweet, pure, good-natured. She deserved better than Kevin. She deserved someone who would keep her safe from the ugliness that this word had become. She deserved to be cherished. Taken care of. And HE wanted to be the one to do all those things for her. But he also realized that he would have to pace himself. 

“Well, to make it up to you how about I offer you a job? I was going to give it to Kevin, but I think there's a story he’s not telling us about him being fired from the firm you were both working at, so I feel my safest bet is offering it to you.” Steve said shifting his weight from foot to foot. Sadie smiled at that.

“Yea, someone at the firm must have found out that he was a slacker. I did most of his work for him remotely from home at night. And with no hot, exciting girlfriend in HR to cover up for him…” was all she had to say. “What kind of job are you talking about?”

“Simple accounting. Nothing out of the ordinary. Howard Stark stopped the government from declaring me dead so the hundred dollars I invested in his company have grown in stock value ever since. He also apparently bought a bunch of Real Estate and a lot of other stuff, so now I don't know what I have or what I owe to the IRS. I need someone to look at my books… that have been untouched since nineteen ninety-one.” Steve explained, a bit overwhelmed. Sadie wished she could have told him that she needed to think about it. But she didn’t. Without any job prospects, she wasn’t in a place to decline Steve's offer. The fact that she would be working for America's Golden Boy and getting one over Kevin was just a bonus. Thanking him he gave her the compound address and they parted ways. 

He followed her from a safe distance. He wanted to make sure she got home alright. At least that's what he told himself as he melted into the darkness.