#I’m sorry Gale I do like you a lot

[chopshajen]

22. Gale

Gale has the saddest wettest puppy eyes imaginable, I always feel bad turning him down for anything LOL But I do it anyways bc Anattone has his hands full with Astarion

Just this other night, Gale wanted to talk, but by the time Anattone got to him (Astarion was trying to read a cursed book and that required supervision), all Gale had to say was “Don’t let me drag you away. Enjoy yourself - you earned a night of revelry,” with a very resigned look

I know it was probably a bug because that line is what he says after you turn him down at the tiefling party, but I can imagine he meant it in this context too. He’s just there every night at camp, wistfully watching Anattone not pay attention to him, being too nice to complain about it LOL

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry.  (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

 

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment. 

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on. 

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream. 

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off. 

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black. 

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications. 

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending. 

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts. 

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

-

-

-

… You cave on the fifth day. 

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment] 

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours. 

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me. 

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word. 

Dont shut me out. 

Please.  

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams. 

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them. 

You set your phone down.

_

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops. 

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered. 

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb. 

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling. 

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out. 

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space. 

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then. 

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

 He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow grey.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll. 

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will. 

––––

“Hey, you okay?” 

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.” 

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?” 

Anytime, darling. 

I mean it. 

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?” 

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store. 

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath. 

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent. 

-

-

-

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain. 

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor. 

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back. 

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most. 

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make. 

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes. 

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button. 

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless. 

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision. 

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized. 

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing. 

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does. 

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope? 

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.  

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far. 

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin. 

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red. 

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark. 

And unread mail. So much unread mail. 

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you. 

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you. 

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being. 

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps. 

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red. 

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues: 

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating. 

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you? 

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break. 

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you. 

You’re afraid of what’ll come next. 

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him. 

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you. 

As if he’d allow such a thing.  

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

… 

And just like that, he concedes. 

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other. 

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even. 

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?” 

“Of course.” Whatever you want. 

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head. 

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart. 

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound. 

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him. 

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other. 

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact. 

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched. 

“My lo—” 

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.” 

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt. 

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?” 

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”  

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?” 

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine. 

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily. 

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke. 

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption. 

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks. 

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape. 

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling. 

I love you. 

I love you in ways that consume me. 

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you. 

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.” 

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop. 

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder. 

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading. 

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone. 

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.” 

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise. 

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?” 

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did. 

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his. 

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.” 

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time. 

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent. 

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating. 

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you. 

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours. 

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

[phefics]

i’m sorry if you’re bored of the hg boys but i fear they are taking up all my brain space and you write them so well 😔

hg boys reacting to reader walking around their place naked/in underwear (i’m sorry if you’ve written something like this pooks i fear i am also very forgetful)

omg thank u!! i do get a lot of requests for them lol but i’m happy to do this for you!! (also “pooks” took me out /pos😭)

peeta would find it so hot, just having you comfortable enough to prance around in little to no clothes. he isn’t easily flustered about nudity, he mentions this in canon a few times i believe, so he would just find it sexy and also kind of sweet that you feel safe with him. it also makes it easy for him to make you cum in many different places around the house.

gale doesn’t pay much attention to it, honestly. if he’s in the mood, your lack of clothes makes it easy, but if he isn’t, he just lets you do your thing. nudity isn’t inherently sexual to him, if you wanna walk around naked he won’t judge you, but he also isn’t going to take it as a hint.

finnick is like peeta, just happy that you feel comfortable around him. nudity is nothing to him, after all he’s been through, a naked body isn’t embarrassing or even shocking to him. but when it’s your body…it definitely riles him up. he likes to sneak up behind you and press his half-hard cock against your ass, whispering dirty words in your ear.

coriolanus likes it, it makes him feel a sense of pride and ownership over you, having you walk around in skimpy outfits (or nothing at all) in his house. his girl in his house, showing off the body that he gets to fuck whenever he pleases.

sejanus finds it so hot, omg. he just constantly wants to bend you over any surface and fuck you. sometimes, it flusters him, only because he's nervous that someone will come by (like his ma) and catch you making breakfast in nothing but a pair of panties, but overall, he is a huge fan.

[cheerysmores]

My wife once told me she would never play Baldur's Gate 3 because 'it's that slut game.' One year later she finally caved and did her very first playthrough.

May I present: Mrs. Cheery's chaotic gremlin adventure to Baldur's Gate.

Act 1

Our hero is the drow fighter, Lady Coolio. To this day we do not know whether Lady is her name or her title. She has a big sword, big tits and one goal: get to The Baldur's Gate with no distractions.

Escaped the 'Meat Bus' (Nautaloid). "Right how close am I to Baldur's gate? Like three hours?"

Sold her camp clothes by accident and was very sad that all she had to run around in was a grey hobo sack. (No mods. Sorry wife)

Asked if Withers was Solas's Dad.

Lady Coolio calls Astarion rat boy. In Wifey's words “he told me ‘when I was a little lad Cazador made me eat rats.’”

To be fair she isn't great with names so Halsin = Hoisin Sauce, Lae'zel = onion lady, Volo = Volvo, Cazador = Calzone (sometimes)

In camp: Gale "I'd like to show you something rather magical". Lady Coolio: "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR MAGIC PENIS"

“There are so many dead bodies everywhere this entire place has got to stink” (just act 1 generally)

Act 2

Ran into the shadow cursed lands very under levelled and Last Light inn instantly got sacked. Bad news as she was romancing Karlach and now can’t get her second upgrade. Lady Coolio firmly blames Isobel for "triggering like three opportunity attacks when she could have... not done that."

Died to the shadow curse a LOT. Her: “Why is everyone dying????” Me: “Remember the moon lantern?” Her: “The what?” Me: “… that thing with the swearing pixie in it” Her: “ I still have to use that????” Me: “ yes, because Isobel is dead” Her: "WHY IS SHE STILL CAUSING PROBLEMS."

Hates the Gauntlet of Shar. Asked Shadowheart, “Is Shar the only goddess with an Olympic qualifier to join her religion?”

And now a series of comments on the Dead 3's chosen: “so the bad guys are evil undead Santa, Lady Gaga and the ugliest man I’ve ever seen?”)” “Is Gale… horny for that crown??” “Maybe Myrkul would be more threatening if he wasn’t standing in an giant toilet and not moving”

On discovering the Emperor) “wait my fairy god mother is a SQUID??? oh :( ”

She did however become half illithid but hated that she ended up with varicose veins on her boobs.

Gale and Astarion then graduated to “those weak pudding men” because they kept getting stuck halfway across the map by missing jumps. Act 3

Said “Brexit means Brexit” every time she met someone who was complaining about the refugees.

Went to see Raphael at Sharess's Caress. Didn’t sign his contract “ I trust neither Lord Farquad nor squid man but I’m not selling my soul to someone who has such bad vibes.”

At Gortash's coronation. "I thought he was popular? Like seven people turned up to watch it. Is it because he's really ugly and smells like Lynx (Axe) body spray?"

She wanted to eat Orin's outfit because it looks like delicious bacon.

Walking around the city: "so where do I go??" "Anywhere you like." "I hate this."

She would not stop stealing things. I think she murdered the entire battalion of flaming fist in the lower city because "a lady's gotta eat." She also killed everyone in sorcerer’s sundries including Rolan.

Had the prototypical stress aneurysm while doing the iron throne but somehow managed to get ALL the hostages out.

Lae’zel was kidnapped by Orin for 9 in game days . When I asked about this she said “FINDING CLOWN MEAT IS MORE IMPORTANT.”

“Why does every door here lead to the sewer????? And why are there so many live mines in the sewer??”

(in the basement of the elfsong) “soo because the Emperor has a shitty basement I’m supposed to be best friend with him now? This soup recipe does not make me trust you squid man”

Halsin “nature used all its powers when crafting you” Wife “well it also crafted bacon lady (Orin) so swings and roundabouts”

Astarion stayed a spawn and she convinced Gale not to use the crown. “No one is becoming ultimate bitch on my watch”

Despite her distrust of the Emperor she still allied with him in the final fight. Because, and I quote, "Lady Coolio's goal is to stop the Absolute. The Emperor has the same goal. I don't know when I became everyone's therapist and in charge of them making better choices but I'm putting my foot down at replacing dehydrated onion queen with baldy prince king over here. The Gith's religion is not my problem."

In her canon Lady Coolio and the Emperor high fived when they won.

85 hours later and Lady Coolio is the hero of Baldur's Gate. Please enjoy this picture of our heroine.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Epilogue | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Sam is back for good and Ghostface is gone. Now the two of you just have to deal with the aftermath of what happened. . .

Previous Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

A fleeting touch on my hand makes my eyes flutter open. It’s bright and even though it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the light, I know from the smell of hand sanitizer and the sound of a heartbeat monitor next to my head that I’m in the hospital.

“Hey. . .” A soft voice to my right makes me want to turn my head, but unlike back at the theater I can’t even do that anymore.

My chest tightens at the thought over never being able to move again, but then Sam’s face appears above me, a soft look on her face despite the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hi,” I say, my voice barely even a whisper.

She’s here. She’s actually here.

Six years ago I was in this exact same situation, but back then I was alone.

I was alone and my parents had just died, but now no one else is dead and she’s here.

“H-How are you feeling?” she asks, touching my cheek and taking a seat on the bed next to me.

I’m not in any pain, but I can’t move and I feel like I could sleep a thousand years.

“I dunno,” I answer honestly despite the tears suddenly welling up in my eyes. “I’m— I don’t. . . I can’t move. My head. . .”

“Your head? What about your head?” She furrows her eyebrows and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead.

“I can’t move my head,” I say, my voice breaking. A tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek, but Sam is quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb.

“Well, yeah,” she say. “You’re wearing a neck brace.”

I blink and swallow, only now realizing she’s right. I am wearing a neck brace. I can feel it pressing against the underside of my chin and into my shoulders.

“I—“ don’t know what to say. But luckily I don’t have to say anything because Sam shifts closer, bumping against my hip before bending down and brushing her lips against my forehead in a fleeting kiss.

“You. . . broke your back, but the doctor said the surgery went well and if everything goes as planned, you should make a full recovery,” she says with a watery smile.

“What?”

“You’ll be okay.” She takes my hand and laces our fingers together and I can’t stop a sob from escaping me when I realize I can feel it.

It dawns on me that I already felt her touching my hand when I woke up and that I felt it when she bumped against my hip.

I can feel it all, which means I can probably also move.

I hold my breath and focus on our intertwined hands before closing my fingers around hers. It works, and even though I have to concentrate a lot to do it, it works. I can also wiggle my toes ever so slightly which makes me close my eyes as unimaginable relief washes over me.

“The doctors say you have a long recovery ahead of you, but you’ve done it before and I’ll be by your side every single step of the way. . . Literally,” she says and I can’t help but smile and open my eyes again despite the tears now freely streaming down my face.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Sam shakes her head and rests her forehead against mine. “Don’t thank me you idiot. It’s the least I can do.”

I scoff playfully. “Who are you calling an idiot? I saved your life.”

“You’re right,” she smiles and I manage to brush a tear off her cheek, “I’m sorry, My Love.”

I smile, too, and trace the edge of her jaw with my finger, making her shudder. “Mmm-hmm that’s better.”

When she dips her head and kisses me carefully, I’m not at all surprised, and I kiss her back with my heart fluttering in my chest, but then she pulls back with a weird look on her face.

Her lips are pressed into a thin line and there’s a familiar crinkle between her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is it Liam? Or Gale?”

She shakes her head and exhales shakily, her breath hitting my cheek. “No, no. They’re both fine. They’re both out of surgery. Anika and Kirby are okay, too.”

I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to go on.

“It’s— Your back. . . The doctors said—“

The door flies open, making me look up as Sam whirls around.

“You’re awake!” Tara exclaims, and the sight of her in the doorway makes me smile.

“Hey, Sprout.”

Her face breaks into a smile and she rushes to my side, grabbing my left hand while Sam slides off the bed and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed without letting go of my right hand.

By the strained smile on her face I can tell that she’s upset that we were interrupted, but she doesn’t seem ready to say what she was going to say with Tara in the room, so she stays quiet while Tara asks me how I’m feeling.

“I’m okay,” I reassure her.

“You sure?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not in pain?”

I chuckle softly and squeeze her jittery hand. “I’m sure. I’m on some pretty hardcore drugs.”

That makes her smile turn into a grin and out of the corner of my eye I can even see Sam’s lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I bet. Man, I was so high last year when they gave me painkillers. . . Are you high? Oh you’re probably so high right now, I’m jealous,” she rambles, making me roll my eyes.

“I’m not high,” I argue playfully, “I’m just tired. I think the kind of drugs you got were different than what I’m getting right now.”

“Ah, that’s a bummer.” She pouts but shrugs and it all happens so fast, Sam shoots her an incredulous look.

“Tara, what the—?”

“I’ve had like five coffees since we got here,” Tara cuts her off and I suppress a laugh when Sam’s eyes widen.

“Five?” she shrieks and Tara just shrugs again, her eyes darting back and forth between me and her sister.

Well, I guess that explains why she’s so hyper active.

“Where did you even get all that coffee?” Sam asks and I can’t help but smile at the way she sounds like a parent scolding their child. “The hospital’s cafeteria is closed.”

My eyes dart to the clock on the wall.

It’s seven in the morning.

Less than twelve hours ago we were at the theater. . .

I shudder at the memory and force it to the back of my mind and focus back on Tara who takes a seat on the edge of my bed, swinging one of her legs back and forth. She’s still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, but she seems to have cleaned herself up somewhat since getting here because her hair is pulled into a ponytail that matches Sam’s and there’s no more smudged mascara under her eyes.

“There’s a vending machine in the hallway,” she explains, her hand squeezing mine absentmindedly. “And Paige and Jackson brought coffees for everyone when they got here.”

Wait, what? Jackson’s here?

I knew that Paige was coming, but I didn’t know he was coming, too. How did he even get here? Did he drive? No, probably not. I’m sure after he found out what happened he managed to convince Paige to pick him up in Boston on her way here.

Sam scowls, unimpressed by Tara’s caffeine intake, but before she can scold her for it, the door cracks open.

Ah, speak of the devil. . .

Paige and Jackson peek into the room and when they see that I’m awake, they step into the room completely.

“You’re awake,” Jackson notes with a small smile, his eyes flickering to Sam’s hand in mine before adding, “And I see that the girlfriend finally knows that she is the girlfriend,” he teases which makes me blush furiously.

“Shut up,” I hiss, ignoring the way Sam is looking back and forth between us with raised eyebrows and pink cheeks.

Jackson just laughs and high fives Tara before dragging an empty chair to the side of my bed and plopping down on it.

“Yeah, shut up, Jack,” Paige says playfully, coming to my defense with a knowing look before turning serious and taking a seat on the end of my bed.

Boy, this room is really getting crowded.

“You know, I’m getting sick of visiting you in the hospital all the time,” she says with a frown.

I cringe and tighten my hold on Sam’s hand. “I know. . .”

“Do you though?” she asks with a pained expression. She places a hand on my leg and squeezes it through the thin blanket. “You keep on almost dying, and it’s stressing me the fuck out. I swear, I’m aging prematurely because of you.“

I want to laugh at that, but I know she’s being serious, so I don’t. “I’m sorry,” I say honestly. I want to sit up and give her a hug, but I’m still too weak to do that and the neck brace would just be getting in the way. “I promise, I’m not doing it on purpose.”

Paige smiles sadly and gives my leg another squeeze. “I know, but it still sucks every time I get a call that you’ve been hurt again, and now Liam, he—“

“How is he?” I cut her off quietly.

Silence settles around us for a moment, and Paige averts her eyes when she finally says, “He’s awake, and in good spirits, but he lost two fingers fighting off Ghostface and he has a pretty big scar on his face. Almost lost an eye, too.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod absentmindedly, taking all the information in.

He lost two fingers and he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life. . .

How brutal was that attack? And how did Quinn even know about him? How did she find him?

It must have been she who did it because Bailey and Ethan were accounted for when the attack happened.

“It was Quinn, right? Bailey’s daughter?” I ask and to my surprise, Tara’s the one who says yes.

“The police went through her phone and found messages she sent to Bailey on the night of the first attack,” she explains, her leg still swinging back and forth. “She said she’d overheard you talking to someone named Liam while Sam was on the phone with Bailey and that it would be a good idea for Bailey to find out who he is and target him.“

“B-But, why?”

This time, Paige answers.

“They wanted to hurt someone close to you so you would be too preoccupied to help Sam and Tara,” she explains and the thought that Liam was used as a pawn in their twisted game makes me feel sick.

I chuckle mirthlessly and close my eyes momentarily. “Jokes on them, that didn’t work. I still helped Sam and Tara.”

Everyone hums in agreement, and a tense silence settles around the room until Jackson straightens up in his chair with a smile playing on his lips.

“Liam might have lost two of his fingers, but do you know what he said when we went into his room and saw him for the first time?”

I want to shake my head, but because of the neck brace I can’t, so I say, “No, what did he say?”

Paige and Jackson share an amused look before Jackson answers.

“He said, at least I can still do this.” He raises his hand and flips me off with a grin and I can’t help but smile and scoff playfully.

“Of course he did.”

Everyone laughs, and the mood lightens a little.

Who else but Liam would joke about almost being murdered, right after almost being murdered?

I glance at Sam to find her already looking at me with a fond look in her eyes and smile shyly.

She’s here, and she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

Bailey is dead, and so are Quinn and Ethan.

They’re revenge plan didn’t work out after all, and I’m sure the media has already covered everything that happened last night, finally clearing Sam’s name once and for all and sending an indirect message to everyone out there who thinks they can fuck with us—no matter what anyone tries, we’ll always come out on top.

I have yet to see Mindy, Anika, Chad, Gale and Liam, but I know they’re fine and that’s all I need to know right now.

“Sammy?” I ask tentatively, touching her hand.

She’s once again sitting on the bed next to me, but this time her head is resting on my shoulder and it seems like she’s fallen asleep because for the last ten minuet she hasn’t moved or said anything.

I can’t imagine the position she’s in is very comfortable because her legs are dangling off the side of the bed, but she hasn’t complained about it yet, so it must not be as uncomfortable as it looks.

Tara, Paige and Jackson left a while ago to go out and find some breakfast, leaving us alone once again.

It’s peaceful and quiet, but I still want to know what she wanted to say right before Tara came in.

“Yeah?” she whispers, confirming that she has not yet fallen asleep.

I intertwine out fingers and run my thumb over the back of her hand. “What were you going to say before Tara came in?”

“Oh. . . Uh.” She sits up slowly and looks at me with sad eyes, her free hand coming up to rest on my chest. “The doctors— They—They said. . .”

I squeeze her hand. “They said. . .?”

She sighs and averts her eyes for a second. “They said after this surgery, your spine is pretty fragile. Yes, they put in screws and rods and stuff, but another bad hit could paralyze you permanently,” she whispers and I instantly know what she’s trying to say without actually saying it.

No more hockey. . .

I bite the inside of my cheek before tugging on her fingers to get her to look at me again.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly.

“What— No, it’s not. Hockey is your whole life and you worked so hard to get to where you are right now and—“

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut her off gently. I let go of her hand and trace a finger over her eyebrow and down the side of her face. She leans into the touch, and her eyes soften, but it looks like she’s about to protest again, so I go on. “I knew I wouldn’t be playing hockey forever. That’s why I got a masters degree. It’s okay, really. I’m alive, and I’m not paralyzed. That’s all that matters.”

Her eyes search mine for any doubts, and when she doesn’t find any, she gives in with a small nod and a sad smile. “Okay. . .”

“Besides,” I say lightheartedly, “I kind of already have a new job, if Liam is to be believed.”

“What?” Amusement and disbelief flashes across her face and I can’t help but laugh and tap her on the nose.

“When I called to warn him about Ghostface he said something about his boss wanting to hire me and how he already gave him my resume,” I explain which makes her laugh as well and rest her head back on my shoulder.

“Unbelievable,” she mumbles when our laughter dies down.

I hum in agreement and start running my thumb over the back of her hand again.

After a while, I’m pretty sure she’s finally fallen asleep so I close my eyes as well, intending on getting some rest as well, but then she speaks up quietly.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I open my eyes and lift our intertwined hands up so I can press a kiss to her knuckles.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, getting lost in her dark eyes when she looks up at me through her lashes.

“What if— what if he comes for us again?” she whispers. “Ghostface, I mean. . .”

I grit my teeth and level her with a determined look. “We fuck him up,” I say and after a moment Sam nods, determination shining in her own eyes.

“We fuck him up. . .” she repeats quietly before letting her head drop back down on my shoulder.

_______________________________________________

And that’s a wrap, everyone!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

All your comments meant/mean the world to me and kept/keep me motivated.

Hope you all have a wonderful week!

Love,

Soph ❤️

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |14|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Stabbing, Attempted Murder, Murder, Death, Blood, Gun shots

Word Count: 3.2k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

You sat emotionless on the hospital bed as the doctor finished stitching up your shoulder. They had done the wound on your side first, the doctor said you got lucky, the knife had just barely missed your ribs. Luckily it only hurt when you breathed or moved. You let out a hiss as the doctor did his last stitch. He smiled at you and told you when to come back to get the stitches out, not that you really heard him, you couldn’t stop replaying what happened in your head, you couldn’t stop seeing Dewey’s face.

You looked down when you felt a squeeze on your hand, then lifted your gaze to see Tara watching you with a worried expression. You wanted to offer her a smile, something to comfort her, to show you were okay, but you couldn’t even manage that. She stood up as best as she could with her crutches and carefully wrapped her arm around you. You just let your head drop to her shoulder, you didn’t even have it in you to break down. The only good thing to come from the attack was that Ghostface didn’t touch Tara, he didn’t get her again, you kept him away long enough, that was the one thing you actually did right. You couldn’t protect Dewey, you couldn’t run to his aid, but you saved Tara, you were just trying to hold onto that, you weren’t a complete failure at least.

Tara leaned back, caressing your face as she stared into your eyes. “What’s going through your head?” she asked softly.

The death of the father you just learned about. That’s all that was going through your mind. The death of the man who gave you chance after chance, the guy who finally smacked sense into you and made you get your shit together.

“Can we just get the fuck out of here?” You asked.

Tara nodded and sat back down in her wheelchair, laying her crutches across her lap. You got behind the wheelchair and began to push her out the door despite her protests that you could rip open your stitches already. When the two of you got to the waiting room you saw Sam talking to Gale and some other woman. When Gale’s eyes landed on you, she pushed past Sam to make her way towards you and Tara.

“Are you okay?” Gale asked as soon as she was close enough. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Just stop,” you said harshly. You didn’t miss the way Gale flinched, you just didn’t care, just like you didn’t care that her eyes were red, she probably just stopped crying not too long ago. “Don’t pretend to care.”

“I do care,” she said softly.

“Well, I don’t, so if you don’t mind, we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

“What?” The woman who had been standing with Gale and Sam asked. “You can’t just leave. Look, you’ve been through a lot recently,” she flicked a glance at Gale. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling, but I do know what it’s like to be targeted by this asshole.” That’s when it clicked for you, this wasn’t some random woman, it was Sidney Prescott. “We could really use your help taking him down.”

“Fuck that,” you shook your head. “Sorry, but no. This,” you gestured around the room. “Isn’t about me. So, I’m taking Tara and we’re getting the hell out of here.”

“Okay,” Sidney nodded. “Be careful.”

“Thank you.” You looked at Sam who seemed conflicted. “You’re welcome to join us,” you directed at her. “Your Tara’s sister after all.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Sam said instantly. She texted Richie to pull the car up.

You were sure Sam had the same thought as you, now that Tara got attacked twice there was no way she’d stay in town. Sam might not have been your favorite person, but you weren’t about to keep Tara from her sister, especially if Sam was actually willing to stick around this time.

“Alright let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Richie said as he pulled up. You rolled your eyes as he quickly started apologizing to Gale and Sidney.

You glared at Richie when he tried to take over helping Tara, but he quickly let go of the wheelchair and backed up. “I’ll get the bags?” He said it more like a question as he took Tara’s crutches and backpack to sit in the back seat.

Tara gave you a disapproving look, but you caught the small smile on her face. She might not have been happy with you straining yourself already, but she appreciated it. As gently as you could you wrapped one arm around her and helped her slide into the back seat. You spared Gale and Sidney one last glance as they finished talking to Sam.

You were pressed against the door on the right side in the backseat to give Tara as much room as she needed to stretch out her injured leg. As much as you would have loved to be on the other side of her, with her leaning on you, that was her injured side.

“What’s wrong?” You asked when you noticed Tara searching her backpack in a panic.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, glancing back from the passenger seat.

“I can’t find my inhaler,” Tara said. Her breathing was already getting shallow at simply the idea of not having her inhaler.

“Can we stop somewhere?” You couldn’t blame Sam, the last thing you wanted to do was turn around. You wanted to get out of town as quick as possible and stop somewhere outside of town if you could.

“I need a prescription,” Tara shook her head.

“There’s a spare at my place,” you offered. You always kept a spare inhaler at your place, you never wanted anything to happen when Tara was staying the night or if she was at your apartment alone while she waited for you to get off work or come back with dinner.

“That’s on the opposite side of town. Wait,” her eyes snapped up. “Amber, I have another spare at Ambers.” You wanted to roll your eyes but even you had to admit Amber's place was more convenient, it was actually on the way out of town.

“No, no way,” Richie said, shaking his head. As much as you didn’t want to stop you knew how much Tara needed her inhaler.

“It’s on the way.”

Richie started to shake his head until his eyes landed on Sam. “Please?” She pleaded. “She needs it.”

“Fuck it, where does Amber live?”

A few minutes after Tara gave Richie the address, he was pulling up outside Amber’s house. You helped Tara out of the car and handed her her crutches, making sure to stand close by as you made your way to the front door, which was wide open. Amber was having a party, typical, of course she’d have a party when a psycho was on the loose.

Tara entered the house instantly after Richie and Sam, you couldn’t help but hesitate at the door. You knew where Amber lived because you had picked up and dropped Tara off multiple times, but you had never been in her house. With Ghostface looming in the darkness you couldn’t help but be on edge as you slowly stepped into the house.

You lingered in the background watching as Tara talked to Amber. You furrowed your brow when Amber started yelling that the party was over, Amber wasn’t usually the type to end a party early, especially one she was throwing. You then watched as Tara followed Amber, as everyone else in the house slowly filed their way out the front door.

You waited in the entryway with Sam, having no desire to wander around Amber’s house. Richie wandered off towards the kitchen, saying he was going to find something to drink. You just leaned back against the door and waited for Tara to come back while watching Sam pace back and forth.

You pulled out your phone when you felt it start to vibrate, you furrowed your brow for a second when you saw it was Gale calling you. You ignored the initial confusion and tapped to decline the call with an eyeroll. Almost as soon as you hung up on Gale Sam pulled out her phone.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“Unknown,” she said, holding up her phone for you to see.

“If it’s Gale hang up.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at your request but swiped to answer the call. “How do you know where I am?” Sam asked whoever was on the phone making you furrow your brow.

“Who is it?” you whispered.

Sam’s eyes widened at whatever the person on the phone was saying. Then she took off, yelling up the stairs for Tara. “What’s going on?” you grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

“We’re in Stu Macher’s house,” Sam said. Your eyes went wide as soon as she said the name. Your eyes started darting around the house, you knew Tara lost her inhaler but there was no way all of you ended up at Stu Macher’s old house was a coincidence.

You stuck closely to Sam as she went around the house searching for Richie until the both of you ended up in the living room. “Holy shit,” you said when you saw Mindy bleeding out on the ground.

Sam instantly ran to Mindy’s side, pressing her hands against the wound. “Do something!” she yelled.

You nodded, your fingers stumbling as you grabbed your phone to call for help. You had just brought the phone to your ear when Tara and Amber came into the room. “What did you do?” Amber yelled, running over to Sam and Mindy, making Sam back away from Mindy.

“We found her like that,” Sam defended.

“Oh my god!” Richie said as he came into the room. You narrowed your eyes; you and Sam had gone through the entire bottom floor of the house and didn’t see him anywhere.

“Where were you?” you asked.

“The basement.”

“Alone?” Sam asked.

“Tara and I were together, but all of you are suspects!” Amber said, cutting off whatever Richie was going to say to defend himself.

“I was with Sam,” you said. “You’re the only one unaccounted for,” you looked at Richie.

“You and Sam together isn’t really a solid alibi,” Amber snapped. “Maybe you’re both the killer.”

Everyone continued arguing back and forth until Liv came into the room, hands raised and covered in blood as tears streamed down her face, smudging her mascara. “Liv,” you said slowly. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“I-I-” Liv sobbed. “I-I found Chad.” You could swear everyone held in their breath as you waited for what Liv was going to say next. “He-he was stabbed.”

“You’re the killer,” Richie said.

“I’m not the killer.”

“You’re the killer,” Amber repeated what Richie said.

“Amber, I’m not the fucking killer!” Liv snapped, tears still falling from her eyes.

“I know,” Amber said emotionlessly.

The next thing you knew Amber pulled out a gun and fired a bullet right between Liv’s eyes. She instantly pointed the gun at Sam, but Tara dropped one of her crutches and grabbed Amber’s hand, making the bullet go into the wall. While Amber was occupied Richie grabbed Sam’s hand and dragged her out of the room.

You ran towards Amber and Tara but as soon as you pulled Amber off Tara, she stabbed you in the gut, giving you a twisted smile. You heard Tara scream your name as you collapsed to the floor. You pushed yourself up and began to scoot back away from Amber, Tara was clinging onto her arm, making her unable to aim the gun still in her hand.

Amber whipped her hand back, knocking Tara into the wall. Amber raised her gun at you but as quickly as you could you crawled to the side of the couch, ducking as a few bullets entered the couch just above your heard. You pressed your hand to your new stab wound as you listened for more shots.

You weren’t sure how long you waited, it felt like seconds, but you were sure it had been longer than that when you realized you didn’t hear gunshots anymore, you didn’t hear anything. You risked peeking your head out to see Amber was gone, as well as Tara. You gripped the back of the couch, trying to use it to help pull yourself to your feet. As soon as you were standing someone appeared in the doorway, aiming a gun right at your head. You raised one blood hand, keeping the other on the wound as you stared down the barrel of a gun held by Sidney Prescott.

“It’s Amber,” you said, your eyes unable to leave the gun still pointed at you.

“I know,” Sidney said. “Stay here.” She gave you one last suspicious look before slowly making her way up the stairs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, leaning against the couch, you closed your eyes, meaning to just focus on your breathing but when you opened them again Amber was standing in front of you. You didn’t have time to process what was happening before Amber held her knife to your throat and shoved you in the direction of the kitchen.

When you stumbled into the kitchen you saw Gale, nursing a wound of her own, and Sidney already there. A couple seconds later Richie came in, shoving Sam to the ground. You grabbed Sam’s arm, quickly helping her to her feet and pulling her back towards the counter.

Richie and Amber looked at each other smiling, before pulling each other into a kiss. Richie kept his gun pointed at Sam while Amber dropped her knife to her side, the second Sidney tried to get around them though Amber broke the kiss and stabbed Sidney in the side.

You should have seen all this coming, you never liked Amber and Richie was suspicious from the moment you met him. You never imagined they would be in it together though, and definitely never could have imagined them dating. You always assumed Amber had a thing for Tara and was jealous of you.

“Why are you doing this?” Sidney asked.

“Because the latest sequel to Stab sucked!” Richie snapped.

You lifted your eyes to look at him, you were hoping you were bleeding out and a consequence was hard of hearing, there was no way these two assholes killed a bunch of people all because they were pissed about a movie.

“Richie and I met online,” Amber said, smiling up at him. “We quickly realized we shared similar ideas.”

“Didn’t take us long to come up with our own movie,” Richie said. “Wasn’t hard to find you in Modesto,” he shrugged, looking at Sam. “But you,” he pointed his knife at you. “You were a surprise.”

“But you can find out anything if you dig deep enough,” Amber said. “It’s a small town, secrets aren’t exactly secret,” she chuckled. “One whisper of someone saying Gale Weathers was in town,” she looked at Gale. “And didn’t take much after that. Going back,” she nodded to herself. “Your old interviews, your old episodes, it was clear something was off.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Sam asked. “Kill everyone? Make me your little hero?”

Richie burst out laughing at Sam’s suggestion. “Oh, you’re serious?” he said, clearing his throat. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re the villain, he gave her a devilish smile.

“Think about it!” Amber screamed; her eyes wide with excitement like you had never seen before. “What better movie is there? The secret daughter of the original mastermind,” she pointed her knife at Sam.

“And the secret daughter of two of the original survivors,” Richie continued, his smile matching Amber’s.

“Lied to her entire life,” Richie said, taunting Sam. “Until she discovered the truth,” he gestured with his hand at Sam, a glimmer in his eye. “And decided to exact her revenge.”

“Thrown away like trash, abandoned, never to be thought of again,” Amber continued, looking you directly in the eye. “Then learns the truth,” she smiled, pointing her knife at you. “And decides to get revenge.”

“It’s a revenge story!” Amber squealed. She actually did a little jump, as if she were giddy about the idea of you and Sam teaming up to kill a bunch of people. “Agh! It’s so good!”

“You’re insane,” Gale said.

“No!” Amber whipped around, raising her knife as if she were going to stab Gale again. “We’re fans! We just want to save the movie that inspired us.”

“You’re crazy,” Gale shook her head.

“And you’re a bad mother.” The next thing you knew a knife was shoved in your side. You lifted your head, opening your mouth only to cough up blood. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Amber whispered, twisting the knife that was still in you. “After we rid ourselves of you and Sam,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Tara will be all mine.”

Despite your current situation you laughed, you couldn’t help it, Amber said the funniest thing in the world after all. “You really are crazy,” you rasped out, coughing up a bit more blood in the process. “Tara will never love you.” You made sure to stare Amber directly in the eye as the words left your mouth, the consequences be damned.

Amber let out what you could only describe as a snarl before pulling the knife out only to shove it back in again, and again, and again. You started gurgling on the blood in your mouth, you weren’t sure when you lost count of how many times Amber stabbed you. When she finally stepped away you just collapsed to the floor.

You were only partially aware of the others trying to come to your aid, only to be met with a knife or a gun to their head. You tried to pull yourself to your feet but as soon as you got up on wobbly legs a sharp pain ripped through your knee, sending your straight back to the floor. Your hand went to your knee, instantly being met with the wet stickiness of blood. You rolled over, holding your knee, your eyes pinched shut, you didn’t even have it in you to scream.

When you opened your eyes, you were instantly met with a gun in your face. Amber let out a scoff and walked away. You weren’t sure what happened after that, you decided maybe just bleeding out on the floor was the best-case scenario. You saw blurry figures going back and forth, you were in and out of consciousness, every time you blinked it took you longer to open your eyes again, you could barely hear the muffled sounds of what you assumed was the others fighting.

Everything was silent, you could barely keep your eyes open, you just wanted to close them and rest. You felt a weight hit your chest, forcing you to open your eyes again. You could just barely make out the blurry image of Tara, it almost looked like she was crying, you weren’t sure why, she was safe, she was alive, there was nothing to be sad about. You saw her lips moving but couldn’t hear the words she was saying. Tara’s face was the last thing you saw before everything finally went black.

Taglist: @r-3-becca

[tumbleweed-run]

Want

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 7: virginity

“There you are, I was wondering if you’d changed your mind,” Gale tried to make sound light, a little joke between the two of you but you could hear the undercurrent of tension in his words. 

“I’m sorry,” you said earnestly, letting your hand rest on his shoulder as you sat. “I got caught up asking Wyll something.”

That was a lie, and one you felt a little guilty telling him, but the real reason you were delayed was a bit more embarrassing. You’d been sitting by the fire going over conversations in your head. Or rather, how to have a very specific conversation. One you still weren’t exactly sure how to approach. 

The truth of the matter was, physically you were a virgin. Even though you’d had mind-blowing, life-changing, astral sex with Gale just before fighting Ketheric your body was still very much the virgin it had been before that night. 

Gale, of course, didn’t know that fact. It wasn’t something you advertised to potential suitors. 

It wasn’t that you were some prudish untouchable. You’d had your fair share of odd groping as a teen (and adult) and were intimately familiar with your own body. You’d just never had actual sex using your body. 

That was an odd distinction to have to make.

You weren’t ashamed of it, it was just something that didn’t happen. Some people never had the opportunity to try certain foods or go certain places, you’d never had the opportunity to have sex. Or rather, you had the chance a few times, but the partners were decidedly less than ideal. 

You realized that keeping this fact from Gale was becoming increasingly like keeping a secret. You needed to tell him, and you needed to do it before he decided to take advantage of the relative quiet of the journey from the Shadowlands to Baldur’s Gate. 

“You seem quiet,” Gale prodded, bumping his shoulder into yours. 

“A lot on my mind,” you admitted vaguely. You bumped your shoulder into his but stayed there, leaning into his warmth. 

Gale hummed in agreement. “It’s odd this calm before the proverbial storm.” 

You felt him press a kiss into your hair. 

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t make a big deal about it,” you said eventually after allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment. 

You felt Gale’s body stiffen, no doubt anticipating the worst kind of confession. Though at this point you weren’t sure what Gale would consider the the worst.

“Alright, I’m intrigued,” He said very neutrally. 

You took a deep breath and sat up right, giving yourself the space for this. “Just to be clear, that night, our bodies weren’t actually… involved.” You were hopeful maybe you were wrong and you’d just missed all the awkwardness because you’re mind was literally somewhere else. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gale’s head cock to the side. “Ah no, they weren’t,” he agreed, unknowingly dashing your hopes, “it looks a bit strange to an outsider, I admit, but alas our corporeal selves were exactly where we left them.”

“Why?” He tacked on after a pause. 

“Well, that would mean that I’m still technically a virgin.” You made your admission rather quickly, words bumping into one another as you spat it out, hoping to get this odd conversation out of the way. 

Gale was unusually quiet and when you finally turned your head to look at him you saw about a thousand emotions cross his face. 

“You’re a…” he trailed off.

You waited.

“Virgin?” his voice had risen almost comically. 

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“But you’re-”

“Yes, I know how old I am,” you interrupted rolling your eyes at him. 

“You mean you’ve never…?” Another incomplete sentence from your usually verbose wizard. 

“That would be what that means, yes,” you confirmed… again. 

You sighed and turned your body so you could look at Gale easily. “It’s not that I’m some innocent. I’ve had the odd kissing session in a dark room, its just never gone any farther. Not to mention I’m concerningly familiar with my own hand and also that one odd pillow in my…”

You trailed off as you watched Gale’s eyes darken. He cleared his throat and shifted. Idly you wondered which of those revelations had affected him so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded almost hurt. 

“It never came up,” you admitted, “first, you were at risk of blowing us all up and then we ended up having sex astrally. I would have told you if we’d been… physically involved,” you assured him, fighting with yourself as to how exactly word things. 

Gale seemed to absorb this information with acceptance. “Well I guess that means my plans for tonight are off the table.”

“What? Why?” You sounded genuinely alarmed, surprising even yourself. 

Gale smiled a small, exasperated thing. “My love, I can’t have you bedded properly for the first time in some wood in the middle of nowhere.”

“You absolutely can,” you insisted.

He chuckled and took your hand. Normally you would have seen a similar move as patronizing but there was nothing but love and adoration shining from Gale’s eyes. “We can be together astrally, again.”

“No,” you huffed pulling your hand away, growing frustrated. This wasn’t why you’d told him. “I want you,” you insisted, “I want you, for real. Here.”

Gale shook his head again, “but you deserve-”

“Gale,” you moved up onto your knees so you could hold his face between your hands, “this is about what I want. And what I want is your actual physical cock inside of me, here in this clearing. Tonight, preferably.”

Whatever Gale had been expecting, that confession wasn’t it. His mouth dropped open. 

“Are you sure?” He asked eventually. 

You nodded, vigorously, “yes.”

“Then I will give you what you want.”

You leaned forward and kissed him. Gale gathered an arm around your waist and laid backward, pulling you with him. You laid across his chest, eagerly allowing yourself to get lost in kissing him. 

You shifted, slotting your body between his legs. Gale groaned when your thighs brushed against his cock, already half-hard. Taking advantage, you pressed your tongue between his lips. His hands slid down your back to your ass, cupping it he pulled you up and closer. 

“How many young lads did you lead into dark corners, only to leave them with their hopes dashed?” Gale teased when you two finally separated for air. 

You laughed. “I never said I left them unfulfilled.”

Gale shook his head with an amused smile. “I assure you every lad who left without bedding you was unfulfilled in some regard.”

“I think,” you smoothed a hand against his chest, “you think too highly of me.”

“Not possible,” Gale reassured. His expression changed as you watched, from playful to something more sincere. 

“What have you done with others?” He asked all of a sudden. 

Now, you felt you might be a little offended. “Gale, I wasn’t saying that-”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand cocks in your mouth. Confused, perhaps, but I want to know specifically what has been done to you that hasn’t come from your own hand… or pillow I suppose.”

“Oh,” you felt a little sheepish now.

With out warning his hands slid to your thighs and he lifted you, pulling your legs apart, forcing you to straddle him. You could feel his cock pressing against your core. You fought down the urge to grind against it. 

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth?” Gale asked then.

You shook your head, a warmth crawling down your neck at the thought. 

“Their fingers?” He continued. 

Again, you shook your head. “Twice I've had someone’s hand down my pants,” you admitted, “but it was awkward and they never really did much.”

“Maybe you’re lucky,” Gale mused, “boys tend not to think beyond their own needs.”

“And men are any different?” You challenged. 

Gale’s eyes darkened as he looked at you now. “Not all, but this one, yes. Your needs are mine.” He rolled his hips up then, grinding his cock against you. 

“Oh,” the sound felt like it was punched out of you. Happily, you rocked your hips back down against him. 

Gale’s hands went to your hips, holding you from doing anything further. You tried to roll them again and frowned when he wouldn’t let you. 

“I promise I will pay as much attention to your pretty cunt as you can stand,” he started, “but I need you to promise you’ll stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

There was an edge to his final words, and you knew anything less than an agreement that he’d leave you untouched. 

“I promise,” you repeated. 

“Good girl,” He rewarded, his words shooting straight to your core. You absolutely did not look at him in an attempt to hide that knowledge from him. His chuckle let you know it had been unsuccessful. 

He released your hips and you ground down on him once more. 

In a testament to Gale’s self-control, or perhaps his determination, his hands moved to the ties of your trousers. When he’d finished opening them, he rolled you both so he was above you. He sat back on his legs and slid backward before working to shimmy your bottoms off before discarding them in a pile nearby.

He gently pushed your legs and you laid back, allowing him to bend your knees. He gently pushed at them so they dropped to the side. You shivered both from the complete exposure of the position he’d put you in and also from missing his warmth on you. 

“Fingers or mouth?” Gale asked, hands sliding down your thighs, ever closer to where you truly wanted them. 

“I believe I said cock,” you retorted. 

A light pinch was delivered to your thigh and you jumped, startled but not actually in pain. “Soon,” Gale promised, “for now, though, those are your options.”

“Mouth,” you answered with almost no hesitation.

Above you, Gale smiled, apparently pleased with your answer. “Do you want anything? A pillow,” he asked rather than doing what you’d asked for. 

“I want,” you answered a bit snappier than you’d meant, “for you to touch me.”

“Some day, I will have you without risk of interruption.” Gale wasn’t really talking to you it seemed. Still, you wondered what he meant by that. You hoped something wicked. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his fingers spread you open even further. You were about to remind him you’d said mouth, unable to resist the urge to push against whatever side of him you were seeing, when you felt his breath hot against you. That urge fled, just as quickly as your thoughts. 

You cried out when he swiped his tongue between your folds. Quickly you pulled your arm across your mouth, aware the camp wasn’t too far off. Gale didn’t seem at all concerned though as he began tracing maddening paths with the tip of his tongue. 

Somehow he was touching you where you wanted and yet seeming to avoid it all together. A growl ripped out of you in frustration and you tried to slide down closer to his mouth. An arm flew across your hips quickly, preventing you from moving anywhere. You were about to say something, beg even, when his tongue finally found your clit. You cried out, free hand threading itself in Gale’s hair. If you couldn’t move closer to him, you could at least pin him to you. He didn’t seem too bothered by this thought, tracing his tongue down you again, this time pressing it inside of you. 

“Shit,” you cursed hips ineffectively trying to grind down again. 

Gale, in some act of benevolence or maybe because he was enjoying your reactions, move his arm from across your hips. He instead pushed his hand under your ass forcing you to tilt your hips up towards him. He moved his attention back to your clit. You felt the walls of your pussy begin pulsing around nothing and you whimpered.

“Fingers,” you gasped, pulling your arm from your face. 

Gale either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you. A few more seconds of attention to your clit and then his teeth gently nipped against it. 

“Fuck,” you cried out as your orgasm hit, once again pulling Gale against you. You couldn’t help but shamelessly grind against his face as you came. 

He stayed there, tongue licking broad stripes up and down your center until you stilled. Only then did he gently disentangle your hands from his hair and sit up.

He knelt between your still-spread legs, a hand gently cupping your cunt. He was watching you closely, pleased with whatever he saw he gently began kneading against you. 

“Will you fuck me now?” You asked unable to help the way your hips chase up at the contact. 

He shook his head. Briefly, you were mesmerized by the way his beard, glistening with your wetness, reflected the light. 

“Why not?” You whined, which wasn’t exactly how you’d meant to say that. 

Gale chuckled before leaning over you to press a kiss on your lips. You could smell yourself on him, taste it even when he pulled away. Far from being turned off by that fact you found yourself wanting to kiss him again. 

“Fingers, first,” he said and demonstratively slipped a finger beneath your folds to press against your entrance. 

He easily pressed the finger into you, finding no resistance when he did. Gently he began pressing it in and out, every time he ground the heel of his palm against your clit until your hips were rolling with his movement. 

His eyes never left your face when he began pressing a second finger into you. You nodded, trying to pull them deeper but he only continued pressing the new digit into at a slow pace. 

“Gods,” you moaned when his fingers were pressed into you completely. 

“Not quite,” he answered with a wry smile. 

You were quickly distracted when you realized he was refusing to move his fingers in you. He was just grinding his hand to your clit, and while it felt amazing it wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Gale,” you whined rolling your hips in an effort to get some movement inside of you. 

That was his aim, apparently. Gale held his hand still and allowed you to fuck yourself on his fingers. You grew brazen, chasing after the grinding sensation as well with a roll of your hips. He watched you with a scrutiny that had your body flushing. Gradually you realized he had begun gently scissoring his fingers inside of you, pressing you open wider each time you pulled away from them. 

His fingers were thick and you felt yourself clench around them at the thought of what he’d (hopefully) be replacing them with. You realized, in a passing thought, that you’d struggle to watch his spell casting in a normal way ever again. 

You felt another orgasm building and with great effort stilled your own hips. 

“Please,” you groaned out, “I want you inside me. Please, I’m ready,” you were shamelessly begging. 

“Yes,” Gale agreed before finally thrust his fingers in and out of you a few times and then with drawing them entirely. 

He was quick about removing his own trousers. His cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach, in the moonlight you could make out a bead of precum on the tip.

Your mouth watered. 

Gale didn’t allow your thought to wander any further before settling between your legs. One hand hooked around the back of a thigh and hiked up your leg against him. 

“Tell me if this hurts, despite what you’ve heard it doesn’t have to,” he said leaning over you, bracing himself with his free arm. 

You would rather die, you realized as you nodded a lie to him. 

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, but he didn’t move any further. It appeared he’d also put you in a position where he could keep you from pushing down on it. You wondered if it was forethought or simply a coincidence. 

When he pressed inside your head collapsed fully against the ground. He was certainly bigger than anything that had been inside you before, his thick fingers included. Painstakingly Gale began pressing into you. His movements were slow and controlled, making sure to keep you immobile. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful as he stretched you even further. 

You couldn’t help but be grateful, now, for his refusal to fuck you immediately.

When he bottomed out, hips pinned against yours, he groaned head dropping forward. You felt the muscle of his thigh tremble against yours. You were secretly pleased as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

You tried to wait him out, trust him as he had only thought of you so far, but your patience only extended so far. Experimentally you clenched around his cock. 

“Shit,” he groaned, hips stuttering as he restrained a thrust. 

“Please,” you whispered once again fluttering around him, “please.”

Gale pulled out only a little before slowly thrusting into you. It wasn’t much but your eyes rolled back. 

He kept it that way, small shallow thrusts until there was almost no resistance when he did. Then, he began working back further before thrusting into you. He was grunting with each thrust, head hanging low so his forehead was resting against your chest. 

“Gale,” you whined unable to take the coddling much longer. 

It seemed his restraint was hanging on by a thread because his hips snapped up against yours, much harder than any previous movement. 

“Yes,” you cried out in response. 

Gale began truly fucking you then. He was mumbling something against you but the sound of your skin slapping against one another was drowning him out. Your own hips were moving now, too, the hand on your thigh had loosed so he was not longer holding you still. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, voice strained, finally loud enough for you to hear. 

You were able to slide a hand between the two of you. Instead of touching yourself right away you pushed your finger further down enjoying the sensation of the slide of his cock in and out of you. 

Abruptly Gale pushed up so he was sitting back on his knees. Both hands sliding under your hips in order to tilt you up so he never slid fully from inside of you. 

“Now, please,” he groaned out and you realized he was holding back his own orgasm. 

Hurriedly you found your clit with your fingers, this new position making it easier. You rubbed quickly and efficiently in a way you’d long learned would bring you off. 

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Gale babbled above you. “Come for me, I want to see your face this time.”

It was his words more than your fingers that pushed you over the edge. You whimpered and he began thrusting harder as you squeezed around him. 

Gale came with a shout, eyes screwing shut. He pinned your hips together once more as he spilled inside of you. He rode out his own orgasm like that, hips rolling slightly with each pulse. Once he was done, Gale gently lowered your hips back to the ground, allowing himself to slip out of you.

You extended your hand up to him and when he took it you pulled him down against your chest.

“Next time I think I want to ride you,” you told him after a moment of quiet. 

Gale laughed before tilting his head up to capture your lips in a kiss.��

[candyk0rn]

Cuddles : BG3

It’s been a while! I hope you’re all doing great, and I’m sorry for once more going on a forever break lol. But of course, Baldurs Gate 3 brainrot is so real

Before reading: Fluff, headcanons, Astarion, Lae’Zel, Gale, Shadowheart x reader (separate), gn reader

Astarion:

“Oh? I see you still can’t say no to my endless charm..”

At the beginning of the relationship, touches and prodding aren’t uncommon

Anything that can bring your attention to him

It takes a while and a lot of convincing from you that his somewhat risqué touches was not all that pleased you

And eventually he can even process that you don’t just love him for his body

Although hard for him to realize, with your help he can

So after your relationship has really blossomed and grown, his touches become softer, calmer, more intimate

Nights by the crackling fire, you in his lap, his hand massaging your nape

His fingers are dangerously cold against your skin, but there’s a sense of comfort that comes with the chill

Although he will brush off your reassurance as pitiful and unneeded..

Please reassure him omg

For the longest time, he will surely believe you are like all his other conquests,

Seduced by him and his charms

But just small whispers of love into his ear, your comforting touch against his skin

That’s enough for him.

Gale:

“Come with me, we shall rest under the stars tonight.”

I am of the firm believer that Gale is horribly touch-starved, poor man

Taken advantage of by his own Goddess, thinking that that is the best he would ever be able to do

Then when you come along, it all changed

His thoughts about himself seem to change, his standards seem to change, his love seems to change

He cares so much about you, he cannot help but think he is not worthy

That a cursed, unfaithful man as himself could never even breathe the same air as you

But all of his doubts and worries seem to melt away when you two hold one another underneath the stars

Your fingers lovingly combing through his hair as he rambles on about something he is passionate about

Wether it be a book, his expertise in magic, or Tara (lmao)

Others would shove him off as a show-off, annoying, etc

But you are so willing to hear him go on and on, that he can’t help but love you

His index finger instinctively draws shapes into your back when you hold each other

When he’s cuddled up with you, his worries that today might be his last don’t even cross his mind

He’s more worried about you, how you feel, if you’re comfortable

He doesn’t care if tonight is the last night he shall ever see you

He’d rather die tomorrow than live for an eternity never knowing you

Lae’Zel:

“Chk..I do not take part in worthless acts of intimacy.”

Lae’Zel is not much of a ‘cuddles’ person

Like at all…

She’d rather feel the thrill of battle with you, bathing in the blood of your enemies

Her way of loving is slaughtering anyone who even just looks at you the wrong way

But, if you’re particularly lucky, or especially down

She can’t help but..pity you

In her mind, it’s such a disgusting feeling. This ‘love’ makes her weak, but she cannot run from it no matter how much she tries

The most touch you’ll get from her will only occur in private

A hand perched protectively on your hip or waist

Her head slumped on your shoulder when you’re on watch for the night

acts like this, although small

It means so,so much from her

And she’ll kill you if you go telling Shadowheart about how ‘sweet’ she was being last night

Shadowheart:

“My love…ugh. I’m still not used to calling someone that.”

Shadowheart is lost when it comes to you

Not only is she horribly confused that you of all people would love her

She’s confused as to how she’s supposed to love you

Her entire life, for what she can remember, she’s never been shown comfort or remorse

If she did something wrong, she was punished

She doesn’t remember a single moment in her life when she was loved the way you love her

And although grateful, she feels unworthy

Hugs are common with her, of course in private, but common nonetheless

When she hold you in her arms, the pads of her fingers massage your back lovingly, worried if she lets go, you’ll flee

Let! Her! Play! With! Your! Hair! 🙏🏻

And please play with hers omg

At night, she’ll let her hair down and allow your hands to explore her long, black (or white) locks

Your touch sends shivers down her spine, a feeling she’s not used to, but craves so much

She truly hopes that you’ll never leave her, for now that she has tasted your touch,

She never wants that sensation to leave

Thanks for reading!

[avocado-writing]

Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:

Astarion

at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.

but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.

this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.

he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.

“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”

you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.

he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.

helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.

Gale

Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.

there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.

he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.

takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.

tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”

he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.

Wyll

When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.

he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.

he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.

“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”

you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.

you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.

“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”

holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.

Karlach

Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.

“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”

you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.

“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.

“hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.

”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.

Lae’zel

She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.

She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.

“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”

you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.

She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.

”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”

you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.

You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.

“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.

Shadowheart

Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.

once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.

but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.

eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.

“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”

the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.

despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.

her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.

things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.

[circescircle]

How do you think Gale would try to initiate intimacy? In any act of the game / post elder brain. Like throughout the stage of his and Tav’s relationship. Their relationship dynamic changing through the game is so sweet and interesting!

This is such a cool topic! I love the awkward wizard man.

Warnings - Implied sexual content Act 2 and down / Spoilers for Gale’s romance and Acts

Act 1 (The Wild)

Gale still has the orb and won’t truly initiate sexual intimacy. However, I think this would be more of a domestic thing. Like cuddles.

This man is touchy. Once you two are fully established, he won’t let you go. Either he’s holding your hand or has an arm around you or his legs over your lap. Anything.

But, after Mystra, I don’t think he’d be that touchy right off the bat. He’s not used to it.

So, as any awkward wizard would, he’ll casually try to get closer and closer, waiting for you to hold his hand.

He thought he was being sly

He really did

But he was slowly, and very obviously, inching closer to you

You were sharpening your blade as you sat on the log you both shared

And he was nearly an inch away

And then he stopped

You felt his eyes on you, as if trying to tell you to close the gap he left

He shifted and fidgeted, glancing at your blade, then you, then the blade, then the fire

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “it’s rather cold tonight.”

It wasn’t

“You can go to sleep if you’d like.”

You could hear his pout

“Oh, no. I’m quite alright. But, I mean, I was wondering if… if you were cold.”

You spared him glance, grinning, “If I was cold?”

“Yes. Can’t have our leader getting sick, of course.”

You hummed, “Of course.”

“And, you know, there’s nothing better than shared body heat.”

“Is that right?” You absently answered

“Why, yes. I could prove it to you.”

You thought about it. Should you tease the poor man?

Absolutely you should

“I’ll believe you.”

…

“Oh,” you could hear the disappointment, “okay, well,” he cleared his throat again, “thank you, I suppose.”

…

“If you want a hug, you could just ask.”

…

He hesitated, shuffling, “May I?”

Act 2 (Shadowlands)

He’s still pretty awkward about affection, but he definitely asks for it a lot. Especially now that he’s been tasked with destroying himself and the Elder Brain.

He’s really conflicted about how to feel. Before you, he would do whatever Mystra asked, if only to please her. But now he has someone to live for.

In his romance, he sends his simulacrum to show you the illusion he made. Then you can choose whether you want the ‘soul binding’ or the ‘romp in the woods’

“You know, I, uh,” he shifted, “read a rather interesting novel on how fighting has a rather profound impact on one’s libido.”

You loved how flustered he got when he was asking for… anything. From hand holding to sloppy toppy (I’m not sorry), he would always fidget and fluster

“Oh?” You grinned, “How so?”

He was about to speak before your arms wrapped around his waist, “I- Well, the adrenaline. And,” he relaxed as your hands threaded through his hair, “the movements. And the way your body shines from sweat, leaving behind your musk, that is just so…”

And… he’s gone

“Musky?” You tease

He simply laughed, cupping your cheek, “Delicious. And I’d love to show you how edible you truly are, my love.”

Act 3 (Baldur’s Gate)

I’ll do three for this: Soon To Be God Gale, Soon To Be Dust Gale, and Soon To Be Professor Gale

Gale is very self assured. He’s going to be able to be everything you deserve and more. He’ll be thinking about how everything is going to be better once he gets the crown. How he’ll be better.

Gale is going to be either needy or reserved depending on the day. He wants to soak up however much of you that he can. He wants to make you smile. He wishes that he could’ve been better for you. Maybe then he could’ve stuck around. Maybe he’d have a life with you. One where you were both happy.

Gale is beyond grateful he has you and he’s going to show it.

We all know how kinky this man is. Regardless of what route you take, there’s going to be something going on. Gale would be having you say his name instead of any gods you worshipped before. Gale would be on his knees, willing to do anything to satisfy you. Gale would be happily exploring whatever kink you were interested in.

Gale would be rather handsy with you

A hand on your lower back, arms around upper waist, hand occasionally at the back of your neck

He’s possessive

He’s already a God in his eyes

And you’re going to be one, too

He’ll pull you aside, roughly kissing you, groping you, tugging at you

You’re his now, afterall

Gale is going to follow you like a lost puppy

Always holding your hand, if not, pinkies linked

He’s hugging you every time like it’s his last day (because, in his mind, it is)

His kisses are desperate, needy, and whiny

It quickly moves to him pawing at you, begging you to let him make you happy

He’s never been enough, and he never will be, so he’ll allow himself to be selfish and take as much of you as you’ll allow

He’ll be on his hands and knees just for you to give him a glance

Please, just look at him. Tell him you love him, even if it’s a lie. Then he can die on peace.

Gale is always looking at you with that soft smile

Hands intertwined, thumb rubbing the back of your hand, kisses to your cheek

You saved him

You saved him from the rock

You saved him from his orb

You saved him from himself

And he’s going to thank you

Again and again

Soft kisses turn to sweet lovemaking

He doesn’t fuck you (not unless you ask nicely)

His kisses are so soft yet firm that they leave you breathless

God Gale - He’s decided that he’s going to take the crown, harness it, and take you with.

Dust Gale - He’s decided that he can’t win. He has to destroy the orb, whether you want him to or not.

Professor Gale - He’s going to give the crown to Mystra and be rid of the orb. He’ll be free.

A.N. I love Pathetic Gale so much 😔 He means the world to me. I want to focus on Dust Gale now bc I love the characterization of him.

[aerynwrites]

Hi! Just wanted to say that I admired your work, and you have pushed me to write again. I hope you have a good day. (Sorry,

a little awkward here)

If you don't mind, I have a request. I always wonder how Gale, Halsin, or whoever you would like to write would react to a Tav that her/their love language is physical touch and/or gift giving (like little crafts and stuff.) Thanks!

ooo i love this idea!! Did it in HC format so I could do both Halsin and Gale (+ Dammon bc I love him lol). I hope you enjoy my friend!

Having an S/O whose love language is Physical Touch and Gift Giving

Gale

I definitely take Gale as someone who loves physical touch but doesn’t like PDA.

So he reserves all his touches for when you all are alone or away from prying eyes.

But he does love it.

He loves when you cuddle up to him when he reads, putting his arm around you and pulling you close as he reads to you.

he also loves holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together.

And he loves kisses.

Kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your nose, etc…

He especially loves leaving kisses to your neck/shoulders when you are lying in bed or just before you wake up.

No when it comes to gift giving, I don’t feel like Gale is particularly familiar with relieving gifts from romantic partners - at least not the small but still meaningful ones.

He keeps anything and everything you give him, always telling you what he likes about it and stuff.

If it’s something he can wear/use you bet your ass he is using it or wearing it all the time.

Halsin

Halsin, as we all know, is not a shy man.

He loves to touch you and doesn’t give a fuck who sees lmao.

He will hold your hand or tug you closer to his side, even kiss you whenever and wherever. He does not care, he just loves having you close and feeling your skin against his own. Even in a non sexual way.

I also know this man loves to cuddle okay??

Like I feel like he runs warm, so at night he probably doesn’t sleep with a shirt on and just has you tucked against his chest.

And he obviously, loves to kiss you just like Gale lmao.

He’s always sneakin’ a lil’ kiss.

When it comes to gift-giving, he loves the little things you bring him.

Whether it be some honey you found at the market or small little malformed wooden figures you tried your best to whittle.

He keeps and cherishes them all, something you don’t find out until you find his little stash in his pack.

If you ask him about it, he just smiles that wonderful smile and tells you he likes to have a piece of you close to him at all times.

Dammon

Okay, possible controversial idea but uh…

I feel like Dammon is a bit touch starved.

Not because he doesn’t like touch or anything but with his home being thrust into he hells and most of his time spent in the forge I just don’t see him spending time much with others.

So when it becomes apparent that your love language is physical touch, he’s a tiny bit lost at first.

But he reciprocates after a while, and soon he finds out he loves that shit too.

He loves to hold your hand, even presses a kiss to your knuckles everyonce and a while, especially if you’re both just lounging around.

I definitely peg him as one of those guys that does the whole “hand on your lower back when he passes behind you” thing and if that doesn’t make you weak in the knees idk what will.

also his tail?? I’m sorry but that man projects his emotions with his tail i swear.

You find it wrapped loosely around your leg a lot when you’re cuddled up in bed, holding you close just like his arms do.

Now, when it comes to gift giving - I think he is more used to being the one to give rather than receive.

so when you first give him a gift he is really surprised and can really only mutter a stuttered flustered thank you.

I feel like your first gift to him might be a new scarf, so even if he didn’t verbalize it well you know he loves it when he wears in nonstop for weeks after you gave it to him.

anything else you give him, small hand made trinkets and baubles, etc… you’ll soon see proudly displayed scattered around his forge.

[sansaorgana]

Hi! It's anon from the period thoughts hehe! I think you're spot on with all of that! Thank you :) Any chance you can do a fic with it?

Gale w/a girlfriend or wife that's having awful period cramps/day?

hiii 😘 guess who started her period today? ME 🤣 when I realised this request is next in the line to be written I laughed 😛 because it's something I'm going through at the moment, I got a bit carried away and it's quite long for a cute little fic like that haha 🥰

I have about 10 MOTA requests to write in my inbox 😅 so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that requests for Feyd are open now, too 🤩

You were laying on the couch under a blanket, mindlessly watching the TV with your eyes hazy from the painkiller you had taken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working for the pain but it was making you feel even more dazed out.

When you heard the front door opening, you sensed the feeling of guilt forming a knot in your stomach. Buck was coming back home after work and not only his house hadn’t been cleaned but also there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. You hoped he’d survive on the sandwiches but you felt bad for him.

“I’m back!” He announced his arrival but you didn’t move. You simply couldn’t.

You heard him undressing and taking his shoes off before peeking into the living room and looking at the TV.

“You’re watching this?” He asked surprised. Well, the program was stupid as hell and you were aware of it.

“I don’t want to but I can’t move to turn it off,” you admitted in a raspy, tired voice.

“Are you okay?” Buck furrowed his brows and approached the TV. He crouched down and turned it off.

“Thank you, it was starting to give me a migraine,” you admitted with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He turned around to face you. 

“I’m sorry, I have those days,” you explained.

“What days, love?”

“Ugh…” You winced at one of the cramps. “Code red, Gale. Those days,” you specified.

“Oh,” he straightened himself and put his hands on his hips, getting visibly awkward. “What can I do for you? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, it does. Just leave me here alone…” You mumbled. “And don’t get angry at me because I haven’t done anything around the house. Haven’t cooked anything either,” you lowered your voice, a little scared of his reaction.

You didn’t expect your husband to be angry about such a thing. He was not like most men. But he still could get a little frustrated and irritated. You wouldn’t blame him for that but it would still feel awful to disappoint him like that.

“Hey, you don’t feel good, it’s fine,” Buck only said. “I can make myself sandwiches,” he shrugged his arms. “Have you eaten anything?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you answered. “I took a painkiller but it’s not helping. It made me hazy, though.”

Buck stood there in silence for a while, looking as if he was thinking intensely about something.

“I have an idea,” he said finally. “Are you allowed to take baths in your state?” He asked and you laughed at him.

“Jesus, Gale, can you imagine not being allowed to take a bath when you’re bleeding for a few days straight?” You asked and he blushed adorably. It was quite cute how he was feeling uncomfortable with the subject of periods and how little he did know about them… yet, he still tried to help.

“Let’s run you a bath then,” he nodded.

“Gale, please…” You sighed. “Baby, you’re tired after work. Just make yourself sandwiches and get some rest, too,” you tried to stop him.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Come,” he approached you and picked you up bridal style with the blanket still around you. You squeezed it in your fist so it wouldn’t fall down and let him carry you to the bathroom upstairs.

Buck sat you carefully on the closed toilet seat and turned the faucet on to fill the bathtub with the warm water. He opened one of the drawers of your bathroom cabinet and hummed to himself.

“What kind of bath do you want?” He asked, unsurely.

“What do you mean by that?” You leaned back, resting your head on the cold bathroom tiles.

“You have all sorts of things here… Rose, lavender, vanilla…” He read the words on the bottles of your bath oils.

“Lavender helps,” you told him and Buck nodded his head.

He took the bottle out and you watched him carefully tilting it above the bathtub… only to pour half of it inside the water. You gasped.

“What?” He turned his head around, startled by the sound leaving your mouth.

“You’re supposed to add a few drops…” You sighed, too tired to get annoyed. Also, getting annoyed when he was trying so hard to help you would be simply unfair.

“I’m sorry… Should I run another bath now?” He asked.

“Don’t be crazy. You’ve no idea how much money you’ve just poured down there,” you let out a tired chuckle.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Buck closed the lid and put the bottle back in the drawer. “But is it safe to bathe in it now?”

“Only one way to find out, is it?” You shrugged your arms.

Buck approached you to help you stand up but you shook your head.

“No, no,” you stood up by yourself on shaky legs. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see…” You explained shyly.

“It’s just some blood, I can handle it, baby,” he assured you but he was blushing again.

“Please, just leave me here and go downstairs to eat something,” you told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I’ll go to the store,” he stated. “I’ll buy us some proper dinner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You won’t drown in the meantime, will you?”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not a baby,” you smiled at him and he nodded.

Buck left the bathroom and when you were left alone there, you allowed the blanket to fall down on the floor. Then you got rid of the rest of the clothes and went inside the bathtub, sighing out of relief at the feeling of the warm water.

You were sitting there for so long that the water turned cold, however you felt too comfortable to leave. It was Buck’s soft knocking upon the door that made you finally move.

“I’m back. Are you alive there?” He asked through the door.

“Yes, I’m about to leave now,” you answered.

“Alright. I have chicken,” he told you. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You heard his footsteps going downstairs as you watched the water go down the drain before you stood up, grabbed a towel and dried yourself before putting dark underwear, a black nightgown and a robe that you had in the bathroom cabinet. You put the dress and underwear you had been wearing earlier to the laundry bin and picked up the blanket to fold it and take it with you downstairs to put it back in the living room.

You felt so much better after your bath, you had to admit it. Your hair was wet but you didn’t bother with drying it. It was around six in the evening and you already looked like you were about to go to sleep but you knew that Buck wouldn’t mind that at all.

And indeed, when you walked inside the kitchen, he didn’t even ask about it nor furrowed his brows at your nighttime attire. There was a chicken with mashed potatoes and a salad on the table already, alongside the tea he had made for you.

“I bought more of that lavender oil so you don’t run out of it,” Buck pointed at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter. “And something sweet for you,” he added. “The lady at the store was nosy, she asked me why I was buying chicken for dinner and was my wife sick so I told her the truth and she told me women like sweets when they have… those days,” his cheeks turned pink as he moved the chair for you and you sat down with a smile.

“She was right,” you told him. 

“Oh, good, for a while I was scared she just wanted to swindle me to spend more money,” Buck chuckled and took a seat in front of you. “So, after all, she was helpful.”

“Yeah, I know what nosy lady you’re talking about,” you nodded at him. “She’s annoying but she’s also sweet. Hard to explain,” you giggled.

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel much better, thank you,” you nodded and reached your hand out to caress his and give it a light squeeze before you both started to eat the chicken.

Buck was telling you about his day at work and you were listening with a slight smile. You would usually comment and ask questions or gasp at some things, demanding to know more gossip. But today you were just nodding your head and smiling, still listening but less attentively.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you’d rather eat in silence. You’ve mentioned getting a migraine before,” Buck shut his mouth suddenly.

“I would have told you if I wanted you to be quiet, baby. It’s fine,” you assured him. “And the migraine is gone now. The bath really helped me.”

“Well… I think I’ve already said everything anyway,” he laughed and stood up to get the empty plates from the table to put them in the sink. “I will wash them and you go upstairs and lay in bed. I’ll bring you the dessert when I’m done.”

“You’re absolutely the sweetest, you know that?” You asked him. 

“I’m only taking care of you, darling. Like husbands do. You take care of me, too. Every day,” he looked like he didn’t understand why you were so grateful and it was making him even more special.

And he didn’t even know.

You wondered if his heart was truly so pure that he had no idea how other men could treat their wives. Whenever someone would mention some dreadful story of this sort, Buck would always widen his eyes as if he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he was truly that innocent and oblivious. Or he just couldn’t imagine being so cruel. Either way, he was a gem.

“I just love you so much,” you whispered, getting emotional. Most likely from the hormones.

“I love you, too,” he answered, a bit surprised. “Go upstairs, baby. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I will manage,” you stood up and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

In fact, you’d love him to carry you. But you didn’t want to bother him too much. So you just went to the bedroom and then you sighed at the sight of the freshly put white sheets. You had changed them in the morning, stupidly forgetting about your period coming soon.

With a grunt, you started to take them off. Your moves were slow and when Buck joined you upstairs, you were almost done.

“What are you doing?” He widened his eyes and put the tray he had been holding in his hands down on the vanity table.

“I put them on this morning but I have to change them now. I don’t want to stain them with blood,” you explained.

“You should have waited for me, I’ll do that,” Buck approached you and took the sheets from your hands. “Give that to me.”

“Buck, you’re a sweetheart, but I’m not dying or sick. I can do that, really,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not like it’s my first time having those days,” you explained, carefully avoiding the word period around him because you could only imagine how uncomfortable it would make him feel.

“You can help,” he agreed. “Give me the sheets you want me to put on,” he pointed to the wardrobe with his chin and you rolled your eyes before opening it and handing him the dark navy blue sheets. He gave you back the white ones and you folded them before putting them back.

When the bed was made, you sat under the cover and rested on the pillow. Your husband placed the tray in front of you and you smiled at the sight of a cake and some ice cream.

“Is it alright?” Buck asked.

“Yes, yes, it is,” you nodded with a smile and started to eat.

“By the way, I’m totally getting you a dishwasher,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed your wet hair.

“Are you crazy? They're expensive!” You protested.

“But it’s going to make your life easier,” Buck pinched your cheek playfully. “You can’t say no, by the way, I’ve already made my decision.”

You didn’t say anything then and just finished eating as he watched you with admiration in his eyes. You offered him a few bites and he agreed to take them but most of the dessert was yours to eat on your own. When you were finished, you laid down, ready to take a nap. Buck took the tray from the bed and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered softly.

“Well, then, my dreams better be of you,” you smiled at him lovingly, “if you want them to be sweet.”

Buck winked at you and went back downstairs to take the tray down. You were starting to fall asleep by the time he was back to lay down next to you and hold you close, making you feel loved and taken care of.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[whatislovevavy]

11. Strawberry Kisses & Lovers’ Reprieve 

Jake Seresin x OC (Caledonia Hughes)

WC: 11.4 k (God, I’m so sorry…but I’m really not)

Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+), oral ( f & m recieving), p in v, a touch of angst, Jake still needing to do some groveling, bits of fluff sprinkled throughout

AN: Thank you guys for your immense patience with this story. Hopefully the fact that it’s hella long makes up for the wait. I hope you guys like it. I put a lot of thought and effort into this one. Thank you @sebsxphia for the encouragement to write this story when it was in development, it means the world <3 

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 

These characters, except for Caledonia and Ella, are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

The soft glow of the morning sun softly stirred you from the depths of slumber that clung to your mind like cooling tar. It couldn’t have been that early, could it? Your toes sought to stretch out, but were hindered in their efforts, ensnared by a pair of taut, strong legs.  Eyes fluttering open, you were immediately met with soft, tan skin and pink, parted lips. 

Has he always looked so peaceful like this?

Your lip quirked, eyes tracing over each fine feature of his face. You almost felt like you were intruding, seeing something truly vulnerable and rare, like a doe tending to her fawn in a free meadow. His soft puffs of breath washed over the crisp white pillow case, his feather-light eyelashes brushing against the soft material as you silently admired him in the morning light. You snaked your arm from between your bodies, letting the back of your forefinger brush against the slight scruff of his exposed cheek, drifting to his temple, and softly brushing some of the stray blond strands of hair away from his forehead. Your teeth find their home in your bottom lip as you gently trace his cupid bow with the pad of your forefinger. A soft sigh passed his lips that almost had you jolting against his warm body that was intimately intertwined with your own, retracting your finger with a suppressed bright grin. 

It made you eternally grateful for saying yes to Jake in the frayed maroon booth of Francisco’s. You were so scared and unsure, like a newborn foal shakily coming to its feet. The memories of your arrangement came through your mind like a gale through a house on the coast.  

From how he started calling you Lass the first night you started working at Penny’s bar.  

When he kissed you for the first time.

Left his first love bite on your neck.

Unraveled you like no one ever had.

Held you oh so closely at the retirement gala and fiercely defended you at the turn of a dime. 

How he held you securely, yet delicately. 

Was so kind and understanding during your first time, and with every experience thereafter. 

How he never looked at you with pity.

The immense sense of safety you felt when around him. 

How much you loved him, and how much he loved you in return. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” 

His sleep riddled tone broke your train of thought, eyes flashing to his still closed ones. You hummed, lips morphing into a smile. A content smile grew on his lips as you gently scratched your nails along his scalp, eyes still closed. “Just thinking,” you whisper. He peaked his eyes open, letting the sunlight pass through the verdant hue of his eyes. His eyebrows rose teasingly. “Hmm, about how much of an amazing lover I am?” You bit into your lip, shaking your head as a grin overcomes your features, a soft laugh coming through your plush lips that makes him grin. “No,” you teased, softly shoving his bare chest with your hand, a soft chuckle passing his lips, “just how much has changed for the both of us since that night at Francisco's.” He hummed, letting his hand settle at your waist, gently toying with the thin material of your cotton panties that made goosebumps blossom on your skin. 

“Only good things, I hope,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to your lips. 

“Only good things,” you affirmed, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips. 

His comforting smile met yours, gently nudging more and more into your personal space with an increasingly heated energy. He gently rolled you onto your back as he supported himself on his bent elbow, his finger gently running along the smooth skin of your collarbone. Softly, he separates, letting his forehead settle against your own and giving you that same charming smile that had you pouring him an extra few ounces at the bar top. 

“God, you drive me crazy, Caledonia.” 

Your breath hitched at the heavy sincerity of his tone that almost makes you clutch your thighs in need. And the way he said your name always, always, made you giddy. 

 “Aw, Jake, you just can’t get enough of me, huh?” You teased with a playful gleam in your eye. A perfect mix of playfulness and lust gliding through the waters of his irises. 

"I'm not entirely to blame for that," he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, his hand sneaking under the covers to run his thumb along your hip, "You're the one laying here in your tiny pair of panties makin’ it hard to think about much else." You snorted, rolling your eyes as his infectious chuckles met your ears. He brings his lips to your own, humming at your taste as your lips meld to his, languidly making out like two well-acquainted lovers. Moans slipping past your lips as his calloused hand gently slips between your hot skin and the thin layer of your undergarment, your thigh adjusting to grant him better access. Breath hitching against his lips as the tips of his fingers meet your clit. He smirks against your lips, starting to rub the pads of his fingers over your sensitive pearl of nerves. The soft whines he pulls from you stroke his steadily beating heart, encouraging him to continue his soft, tender ministrations as his lips trail down your neck to your bare breasts, gently pulling the sheets down below you. He smiles against your skin at the feeling of your nipples stiffening in the AC. Your hips bucking in anticipation against his hand. 

“Easy there, Lass.” You want to glare at him. The smug bastard. He wears his cat-got-the-cream grin as he takes your slowly stiffening peak into his mouth, softly nibbling and toying with the sensitive flesh. His tongue peaks out to tantalizingly flick at your taut nipples, almost making you taste blood with how hard you’re biting into your lip. Squirming as he softly bites down, making you cry out, almost missing him start to crawl down your body, and settle between your plush thighs. His eyes meet yours, that same playful gleam as he slides your panties down your thick thighs. Breath hitching as he leaves tender kisses along your ankle, to behind your knee to the inside of your thigh. He takes a deep breath, his cock throbbing at the sight of your bare cunt, gleaming in the morning sunlight, like morning dew on a petal. His gaze pinpoints on a single drop of your peach sweet essence that teases him as it rolls down your blush pink folds. His tongue peaks out to wet his lower lip. 

“Jake.”

His eyes flashed to yours, a wry grin curving his lips, “what is it, pretty girl? What do you need?” You huffed, thighs clenching around his shoulders in the volatile brew of lust and frustration. His smile grew tenfold.

“Need your mouth.” 

The taste of iron is almost present as your teeth imbed themselves into your lower lip.

He hummed, letting his hand run along the sensitive complexion of your inner thighs. His chest filling with pride at each shiver and flinch of your thighs against his feather soft caress. 

“You're missing something, beautiful.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in your lust hazed state. What the hell was he- oh. “Your such a fucking tease, you know that?” His eyebrows rose vexingly, waiting for you to rectify your statement that was borderline a command to keep your sanity in check. 

You licked your lips, “Please, J-Jake, I need your mouth on my pussy.”

His smirk grew into a devilish grin. 

“Good girl, Lass… can't have you forgetting your manners.”

Your breathing hitched, fingers twisting harder into his locks of hair making him groan. Any defiant answer died on your lips as he toyed with your clit using the tip of his tongue. His mischievous eyes locked on yours as he teasingly flicked at your clit, caressing it with his smooth muscle. His sinful smile grew across his face as his tongue worked its steadily overwhelming magic on you, each shot of electricity making your toes curl. 

“You're like m’own personal honey stash,” he chuckled, giving your flushed folds a broad lick, a deep chested groan of satisfaction meeting your ears. Eyes fluttering shut as his dextrous muscle met your plush bundle of nerves, the feeling like the return of spring after a barren winter. You can feel him rocking his hips into the mattress as he nibbled and sucked at the soaked lips of your cunt. It made your head spin thinking about how this man acted when it came to getting on his knees for you. 

“So fucking perfect, taste so damn good, sweetheart.” You shivered as he growled, his tongue running through your folds, lapping up everything you offered to him. You’re helpless, laying on your back cushioned by his soft sheets and pillows as he drinks from your flushed cunt. Your thighs try to squeeze around his head but his broad hand pins one of your thighs above your hip, his free hand placing your other thigh over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. No choice, but to let him softly feast on you. “Oh, yes,” you crooned, thighs shivering as his stubble scratched at the delicate complexion of your inner thigh, your fingers threading tighter into his locks of hair making a sly grin overtake his features and eyes glint with mischief. The obscene slurps and groans from between your thighs made your cheeks heat, his hands almost trying to physically conjoin to your hips and pinned thigh. It wouldn't surprise you if you found marks in perfect resemblance to his broad hands on your thighs from his ministrations. 

“Yes, yes, I missed your mouth so much,” you moaned out with a whimper. His eyes fluttering shut as your nails pierce into his scalp, weaving into his gilded tufts of hair. The tantalizing touch of the blunt-edged, ruby red nails digging into his scalp paired with the sweet, intoxicating taste that dribbled from your cunt made his spine tingle between his hips. He could definitely get used to lazy mornings like this with you, savoring and worshiping your body the way it deserved- the way it always deserved. He let his lips leave your cunt, your soft whines marking his exit. Softly, he lathed kisses on the inside of your thighs, sucking and nibbling at the tender flesh. Your mewls of pleasure and increasing neediness made the marks he left on you that much sweeter. Beautiful blotches of magenta, lavender and deep blue litter your thighs and thick hips. 

He gently teased two of his thick fingers at the ingress of your cunt, letting them run through your folds and soak up the sweet nectar you always gave him an abundance of. You tugged at his hair, “Jake, please.” He chuckled against your thighs, littering one last blotch of color to his favorite canvas. 

“Shh, princess, I’m just takin’ my time, no need to get hasty.” 

You pouted, making him chuckle, and that saccharine grin that always made your stomach flip to grace his features. Your breath hitched as he pushed his fingers in, letting your walls embrace his welcomed digits. He whistled, “jus’ like a hot knife through butter, baby.” A fresh wave of heat courses through you at his drawl, the vice of your cunt tightening around his fingers, much to his delight. He gently brought his tongue back to your sopping cunt that gushed beautifully for him. Thrusting into your soft, welcoming embrace, his tongue danced along your clit. Toying with your sanity with each playful suck and nibble of your sensitive gem. Your hitched breaths and mewls filled his bedroom as every cohesive thought left your head. He felt your hands move frantically between grasping the back of his head and the pillow beneath your own.

"Oh, Jake." 

He swore he would never get used to the wanton, sultry, desperate tone your voice took in this state. A high pitched whine left your throat as your thighs shook against his iron hold. 

His fingers continuing their steady rhythm into your dripping cunt, against that sweet, delicious, little spot that had your mind hazy and incoherent syllables leaving your perfect lips. Your eyes clenched shut, silent screams, and broken cries leave your lips as he pulls your release from you. Playing your body and mind with the ease of a professional violinist in concert. 

His lips lathed open-mouthed kisses along the insides of your plush thighs, gleaming eyes dancing to your teary ones as he diligently watched you return back to your body. His fingers moving at the same soft pace, relishing in your walls fluttering around his thick digits like the butterflies he got in his stomach whenever you smiled at him. 

He knew you could handle another one; it was all part of making up for lost time. He softly brought his hand up, gliding it along your skin, to settle at your breast; fondling, squeezing, and pinching at your taut nipple, smirking at the noises he brought past your lips. 

"Such a good girl…missed taking care of you like this," His thick, sleep graveled drawl made your walls clench around his fingers. You hummed, a soft whine passing your throat. 

He grinned from his spot between your legs, "you missed that too, Lass? Missed when I took care of my pretty, little pussy? Stuffed you full with m’ fingers." You feverishly nodded, a whine passing your lips. His lips quickly advancing back to your swollen folds, languidly toying with your already sensitive clit. 

A hiss leaves your throat at a particularly harsh suck, clit throbbing between his soft lips. If there was one thing you’d learned from your time with Jake, he loved, no, craved, being the best. He needed there to be no doubt in your mind that he was the best candidate for taking care of you; whether that was eating you out or fucking you into the mattress. And if that meant he made you lose your mind at the hand of his sinful tongue and intoxicating cock, then that was the sacrifice he was willing to make. 

"Fuck, baby." Your sweet gasp made his cock throb against his sheets. Eyes clenched shut, your nails dug into his hand and the back of his head. He moved his fingers more diligently, feeling your pretty noises and the constriction of your walls increase so. A sharp cry left your lips as he gave a delicious suck to your clit. 

You’re far too sensitive, his mouth too much. 

Chest heaving as you summoned any strength you had to push his head away, your release following suit with a shriek. He shuddered at the gush of liquid downing his chin and neck, immediately forcing his way back to your dripping cunt, your hands clawing at his head and the back of his neck as he claimed your cunt again, latching back onto your poor, abused clit, letting it leave his mouth with a lecherous pop, feeling a few spurts leave your pussy as your whines of pleasure met his ears. 

"Such a perfect girl, squirtin' all over me," his tone a mix between a growl and pure awe. Your thighs shook at the overwhelming feeling of his savory timbre. If all of your brain cells hadn't been fried, you might have been embarrassed. He thrusted his fingers more diligently, keeping his gaze on you.

"Come on, beautiful, I know you have at least one more for me," he purred, giving you that same panty dropper grin that made you blush at the bar top as his fingers stroked that sweet spot inside you, a string of your arousal linking his lips to your cunt, shining in the light through his curtains. Your liquid lust makes his chest and shoulders glimmer with the light peeking between the shades. You feverishly nodded, letting out a pathetic, little whimper. He wracked your lower body with the strength of his entire arm, making you mewl and cry out. Nails digging into his taut forearm, his veins bulging with exertion. You could feel your core tighten, and as he removed his fingers, your release coated his bare chest and bed sheets. 

"Such a good job, Caledonia, such a good girl squirtin' around my fingers." He goaded with pride, his breathing heavy as he rubbed his open palm over your flushed folds and engorged clit. Shocks of intense pleasure racked your brain, sharp gasps leaving your lips, your hands shooting to keep his hand still. 

He smirked, a small chuckle passing his lips as he settled on softly rolling your tender clit between his forefinger and thumb. Your mind tried to grasp any semblance of normal brain function, but with Jake touching you oh so sinfully, it was fruitless. Your chest swelled and fell as soft sparks of pleasure shot up your body as your hands softly clutched at his own. He lathed soft, open-mouthed kisses along your plush inner thighs as you slowly came down from your high, your breathing heavy still.  

Shakily, you sit up and reach out to him, bringing your lips to his, passionately savoring the heavenly combination of your taste and his natural one as your tongues meld together like metal; melting and emulsifying into a perfect alloy. He chuckled as he felt your nails tangle into his hair. Gently crawling over him, you pushed him down onto his back as you kept your lips on his with a soft thump against his sheets. A mischievous smile breaks out as you see his eyes gleam, his breath hitching at the change in position. His hard length twitched against the flesh of your ass, an immense sense of pride filling you.  

You had this effect on him. No one else.

You.

Your soft breaths met his ears as you ran your palms over his toned chest, down to his chiseled abs, tantalizingly scratching your nails along his flesh, goosebumps following in their wake, head still spinning from the intense high that wracked your brain. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he watched you scoot further down to settle over his knees, his cock thick and hard, standing at attention for you. Watching as he bites his lip, his pupils fully dilated, hiding that lovely shade of green, his chest heaves as he waits with anticipation. His breath hitches as you grasp his hot, throbbing cock with the perfect amount of pressure. You spit on his dick, demanding the attention of the man below you, letting the viscous fluid dribble down from your pink lips to his sensitive tip. He twitched in your hand, making you grasp him tighter, shooting him a flirtatious smile that makes his stomach flip. His eyes clenched shut, his tongue wetting his lower lip in anticipation. 

“Cal-sweetheart.”

You smirked, grasping his cock harder in your silken palm. 

“I think you're forgetting something.”

He turned his chin down to get a better look at you and the bratty look in your eye. 

His Adam's apple bobbed and cock twitched in your hand. Your grin widened at the sight, posture straightening at the further change in power, a special gleam in your eye he didn't see often. His broad hands knead at your thick hips and thighs. 

“Cal-.” 

“Come on handsome, I'm not the only one that needs to have manners.” You said wantonly as you gave his engorged length a squeeze, one of your manicured nails drawing hearts on his Adonis belt and abdominal muscles as you waited patiently. His muscles softly twitching under your tantalizing touch. 

He bit his lip, a scoff bubbling from his throat making your grin widen. “Such a fuckin’ minx,” he growled. A teasing chuckle leaves your lips as you lean down to place a feather soft kiss to his swollen tip, making him sigh and eyes flutter shut. A gentle squeeze to his balls has his words leaving before he can think. 

“Fuck, cal-, please.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself  as you lean down, letting your tongue run up the length of him. "Fuck, sweetheart," he croaked, eyes fluttering shut. You look so perfect like this, he thought. "Missed your pretty mouth so much," he groaned, rambling as his eyes clenched shut as you playfully sucked at his red, inflamed tip. Your heart and walls fluttered at his words. "Mhm, I missed sucking your thick cock," you purred, pumping his length. His stomach jumping at your confident, lustful tone. You were getting more and more confident with each perfect, tantalizing moment with you. 

Especially with that little please stunt. 

And he loved every second of it. 

He had a feeling you would outmatch him one day, and he needed to be the one to experience it. He’s completely entranced by your molten lapis lazuli gaze as you sucked a love bite on the underside of his throbbing dick. His eyes clenched shut with a hiss, your perfect, soft hands squeezing his balls as you continued your sinful acts. "Fuck, your mouth is perfect-so fuckin' good, Caledonia," he growled, his hips bucking into your hand. Each squeeze of your hand and impure suck to his tip had the thread of his soul reeling loose from its spindle. Every coherent thought seemed to dissipate as you soaked his cock with your perfect mouth. You held his length, giving him a sultry smile as you pushed your copper locks over your shoulder to the other side. His hand quickly intertwined with your soft, wavy hair, letting his fingers card through the strands. The way your hair glowed in the morning light and how your perfect, pink lips wrapped around his saliva soaked cock made his core tighten and heart flutter. He sighed as you gripped his hips, nails digging into his adonis belt as you brought your mouth down over his swollen dick, savoring each ridge and crevice of his fat cock with your tongue. 

"Shit! So fuckin' good, baby." 

If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like the cocky, self-assured Hangman was pleading for you. You let him leave your mouth with a pop, "does that feel nice, handsome? Feeling me suck your dick like a goddamn bomb pop?" He feverishly nodded, willing to let you do whatever you want to him. 

"God, I love how thick you are, feel so good in my mouth and balls deep in my pussy," you moaned out, eyes full of intense flames of lust as you stroked him with a steady rhythm.

Fuck, where did you learn to talk like that?

He realized how stupid of a question that was. 

His chest heaves, his breathing shaky as low moans passed his lips as you quite literally sucked his life source from his throbbing cock. His eyes clenched shut as his load is about to burst, hips bucking into your mouth. "Oh, fuck, sweets, keep doing that, such a good girl." He choked out, his eyes rolling back as you gave him a sinful, perfect suck to his tip. You squeezed his hips harder as they became wracked with tremors, feeling his hand desperately reach the back of your head, fingers intertwining with the soft strands. “Holy shit, Caledonia.” He gritted his teeth as he groaned, his back arching as his release hit the back of your throat in thick ropes, almost startling you as his hand kept your head in place. His slightly salty taste eased you as you continued to lathe your tongue around his dick, collecting any last remnant of his release. Jake's breathing evened out as he recovered, opening his eyes to you placing a sweet, oh so tender kiss to his tip.

 It would almost make him smile if it didn't make his dick twitch. 

You licked your lips, letting your gaze meet his blissed out one, giggling at the sight of his bed hair, and soft, rosy cheeks. His breath hitched as you licked the last of his essence from your fingers. Crawling back up and over him, you gently placed a kiss on his lips. The taste of himself on your lips making his core ache in reinvigorated need. 

"How was that?" You bit your lip, smiling with awaiting eyes. He takes a deep breath, licking his lips as he takes in the mix of your tastes, his lip lifting into a smile, making you giggle. His fingers digging into your plush hips, bringing you closer.  His hand travels up to the base of your neck, bringing your lips down to his. Your soft sighs against his lips has his libido rising by the second. 

In one quick motion, you’re below him, letting out a squeal of delight that morphed into a titter. His grip on your hips tighten as he towers above your sprawled out form. He stands on his haunches, spreading your legs with his broad hands. A low whistle meeting your ears, “God, I need to be inside you,” your clit tingled at the prospect, “You want me inside you, sweetheart?” You pathetically nodded. His eyes tracing your fingertips as they traverse the curves of your plush body that lead to the sensitive little pearl at the apex of your thighs, your soft fingertips gingerly rubbing at your clit. 

“Please Jake, I need it so bad.” 

A deep groan resonated in his chest as he manhandled your knees to hook over his shoulders, pressing onto you.

"Jake." 

“Shh, baby, I'm gonna take care of you.” He murmured, fighting off the deep rooted urge to slide all in at once and fuck you till the headboard breaks. He gave you that same salacious smile you love. Running your fingernails down his torso, you nodded. His lips parting as he notches his tip at your entrance. He leans down, keeping his gorgeous evergreen gaze on you. A pitiful whimper leaves your lips as the bulbous head enters you, already stretching you. His hands quickly intertwine with your own, placing them by your head, nose nudging yours.

"Shh, it's ok, Lass, taking me so well, just breathe." You nodded, eyes glassy as you focused your gaze on him as he continued to enter you inch by inch. He can’t help but feel the warmth in his heart with each pinch of your brow and soft mewls that passed your lips as he split you open. 

You’re absolutely perfect. 

And you’re all his.

He smiled so softly and tenderly at you. "I love you so much, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispered. 

Your eyes starting to tear up, voice thick, "I love you too, Jake." 

He leaned down, passionately, desperately kissing you like you’re the only keeper of his sanity. "I'm not going anywhere," you whimpered out against his lips, his forehead resting against your own as he gently rolled his hips into your own, fully sheathing himself into the welcoming embrace of your cunt. His rhythm has moans pouring from your lips and his bed frame rhythmically banging into the wall. Your breathing intermingles, gazes staring into one another. The focus solely on the feeling of Jake on you, holding your hands so tenderly yet firmly, and the way he throbs gently inside you with each thrust. He savors the velvet feeling of your walls around him, and the twitch of your knees against his shoulders. 

Each moan and whimper spurring him on with each soft thrust, rubbing that sweet spot inside you that had you clutching onto his shoulders for dear life. 

"Jake," 

He nipped at your neck, putting his entire lower body weight into his thrusts, making you gasp and cry out as he ransacked that special spot that made you see stars. Your lips muffled his groans as he continued to thrust into your perfect cunt that he would swear under oath was made for him. 

"God, you feel so fucking good, Jake!" His growls and groans are a reply enough to your broken moans and gasps of breath. 

You both are consumed only in each other, not the headboard banging into the wall or the possibility of Javy hearing your escapades- just the perfect mix of you and him. He lifted your hips letting him thrust with all his strength into your welcoming cunt, your walls begging him to never leave. 

"Such a good fucking girl, wanna spend every mornin’ like this… God, such a perfect, tight, little pussy," you gasped and cried out as he punctuated each graveled word with a deep, perfect thrust. "You love it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" You nodded feverishly, tears welling in your eyes. 

"You just feel so good, please don't stop," you choked out, the dull edges of your nails digging into his hands that encased yours. He grinned at you, placing a soft kiss to your plush lips, feeling pride swell in his chest.  “Love seeing you get all teary eyed taking my dick,” he cooed. You moaned as he set a brutal rhythm, making you see entire galaxies behind your clenched shut eyes. Shuddered gasps left your throat as he leaned down to mouth at your tits, sucking at your peaks, and releasing them with gentle pops. 

"Baby, look at me," he purred, his voice strained from his excursions. Your dazed gaze met his, your vision hazy from your impending orgasm. But even then, you could still make out the thin halo of green that surrounded a sea of black. 

“So fucking pretty, baby.” The sight of his lust dilated eyes and the constant assault on the soft spot inside you has your sanity unraveling, your high rushing over you with broken gasps, chest heaving up into his. 

“Jesus Christ, so fuckin’ tight.” He groaned with that sinful graveled tone into your ear as you mewled and shook as your high consumed you. 

His eyes clenched shut as your walls choked his cock, making his release hit him like a bullet, groaning into your neck as his release painted your soft velvet walls. 

You relished in the feeling of his weight on your body, softly running your fingers through his hair as his cock gently twitched in your molten cunt. Heaving breaths and the soft smell of sex filled the room as the AC hummed lowly. He gently lifted his face to meet yours, a sweet, dazed smile painting his lips, sweat beading at his hairline. You bit your lip, “good morning.” His relaxed smile morphed into a grin, “mornin', my beautiful girl.” Your grin matched his as you gently pulled him into a sweet kiss, letting your nails gingerly scratch at the base of his neck. He softly whined in protest as you pulled your lips away for air. “I have to breathe, Jacob,” you teased, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your warm gaze met his own, a soft smile on your lips that made your dimples pop. His eyes glazed over, tracing over each wisp of color in your sapphire eyes and the rouge dusting your cheeks. How did I get so lucky? 

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” You whispered softly.

His lip quirked, “jus’ thinking about you,”

Your blush deepened, biting your lip to hide your grin, “only good things, I hope.”

“Only good things.” He repeated with a gentle smile. 

You lightly pulled his lips back to yours, lips languidly melding with his. Savoring the taste of you on his lips that he never wanted to forget. 

—

Jake’s breathing evened out as you traced the edge of your nail on his pec, gently scratching at the sparse chest hair. Your head nestled into the crook of his neck, eyes tracing over the freckles sparsely peppering his bare skin, following the tip of your finger. His fingers mindlessly toy with your wavy locks, watching the soft strands curl around his finger and the glow of that lovely copper hue in the morning light. He felt like he needed to pinch himself, just to make sure this was all real. He refrained; pinching himself may cause all of this to go away. You listened to his steady breathing, softly letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“We should get cleaned up and something to eat,” you whispered against his chest. He hummed, still coming down from his high. You giggled, sitting up before rising off of the bed. Softly stretching in the morning light, bare to the world, walking towards his bathroom on shaky legs that had his chest filling with pride. Turning towards him, you leaned against the doorframe, “you coming, cowboy?” His mouth felt dry, eyes glued to your full body that was fully exposed for him to admire in the soft, golden morning light. Your eyes caught on. A playful smile tugged at your lips as you watched his eyes travel from your eyes down to the rest of your body. The gaze of others had always planted a pit of insecurity in your stomach that caused your heart to quiver. But being with Jake, he eased your insecurities. Softly and slowly, he eased you to expose yourself to him. But even in these moments there were small pockets of self-consciousness that broke through the protective layer that Jake helped to cultivate. 

Soon enough he'll realize that your body type isn't what he wants.

This is all a ruse and he didn't mean it when he said he loved you. 

He'll get sick of your body at some point. 

You felt your lips threaten to tug into a frown, his gaze feeling more scrutinizing as he held his gaze on your body. In all the time you had known him, Jake had never been a quiet man. Maybe he didn't like how your thighs were so thick. 

Or the soft flesh of your tummy. 

Or how your breasts weren't as perky as with the other girls he’d been with. 

He nodded, a beat of silence passing, “that sounds perfect.” There was no air of cockiness in his tone, only the heavy sincerity of his whispered words. He rose out of bed, sauntering towards you. You tried to keep your gaze on him instead of the way his cock was starting to harden again and animatedly bob with each stride. He took your hand in his, anxiety easing as he brought your hand to his lips, eyes full of love before silently leading you with him into the bathroom. 

—

“Jake, stop, that tickles,” you protested teasingly as you manned the stove top, flipping the eggs and bacon in the skillet as the toast finished with a ding. His chin lifted from its place at your neck with a groan, halting the teasing rubs of his freshly shaven cheek against the column of your neck. His hands playfully squeezed your hips as he stepped away to collect the toast. 

“So, sweets, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” He placed the plate with the warm toast on the counter across from you, letting the edge press into his bare lower back as he buttered the pieces of toast. Shutting the burner off with a click, you grabbed both of the filled plates before joining him at the countertop. You could feel his eyes settled on where his shirt barely covered the curve of your panty-clad ass. The attention made your cheeks heat. Granted, you should have been used to it by now, but it was so hard to adjust when every time he looked at you, your entire body heated up like a fireplace. And his bare chest on display certainly didn’t help. Or the fact you could trace out the bulging veins in his forearms. 

“Um,” you cleared your throat, “I have a shift at Penny’s later tonight, but besides that I’m free.” He turned to lean on his elbow against the counter to face you while he held his plate, eagerly digging into his breakfast. You leaned forward against the counter, foraging at the strawberries Jake had cut up earlier. He smiled around his piece of toast, “glad to hear it, I was hoping for a few more hours with you.” He teased, pinching under the curve of your ass as your blush bloomed on your cheeks. You swatted at him, his chuckles meeting your ears. He placed his plate down, moving to embrace his arms around you, the small droplets of water from the shower falling onto your neck and shirt. You yelped as his broad hands grasped the underside of your thighs, placing you onto the edge of the countertop, out of the way of your plates of food. Your chuckles died down as your gaze met Jake’s playful one. His thumbs rubbed small circles on your hips as he stepped between your spread thighs. The back of his finger gently caressed your cheek. Your teeth digging into your bottom lip, hands gently rubbing at where his broad shoulders met his neck, fingers occasionally toying with the chain of his dog tags. Your eyes traced over the fine features of his face, fingers cradling the back of his head, leaning down to kiss his passion-swollen lips. 

Groaning against your lips, he pulled away. 

“I meant what I said last night and this morning…about being in love with you. I don't want you to feel that it was just in the heat of the moment for me.” He softly whispered, as if it were a secret from the rest of the world. Your eyebrows rose a little, your heart warming. “I know Jake. It wasn't a heat of the moment deal for me either. I love you too. Just promise me something.” 

“Anything.” He reassured.

“I know relationships are a complicated thing for you,” you diverted your gaze to your fingers playing with the pebbled chain of his dog tags, “but if you get scared or anxious, please don't pull away and make a rash decision. Be open with me. Talk to me.”

His warm eyes melted more if that was possible. 

He nodded, murmuring “I will, promise.” His nose touches yours before he places a sweet kiss to your lips. He hummed at the taste of strawberries on your lips.

“Glad to see you guys made up.” 

Javy’s voice made you jolt against Jake, trying to discreetly reach to slide Jake's shirt under your ass, much to Javy's amusement and Jake's disgruntlement. 

Javy made his way to the coffee maker with an amused expression on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee. You could feel Jake's hands tighten on your waist. 

“Coyote, I thought you were at Delilah’s.” Javy smirked around the rim of his mug at Jake's tone. He leaned against the opposite counter, an amused expression on his face as he took in his much more kept together appearance; shaved cheeks, diminished bags under his eyes. 

“Good morning to you, too. I got back late last night after dropping her off for her red eye for her business trip.” Javy grinned, diverting his gaze to you. “Hey, Caledonia.” 

“Hey, C-Coyote” you stammered, cheeks flushed.

“You know, we were kind of having a moment. Alone.” Jake bit back, attitude rolling off of his tongue, as he tried hiding your body with his. That only made Javy smile all the more. 

“Sorry, I must have missed the part where this was your kitchen.” He placed his mug in the sink. “But really, I'm happy for you both. He was much more tolerable when you both were messing around.” Jake continued to glare at him, his grip on you getting more and more possessive the more your cheeks heated. “Oh, and if you guys decide to utilize the counter, use the Lysol afterwards.” Javy winked at Jake, giving him a pat on his bare shoulder and stealing a strawberry as he passed, heading towards the front door, closing it with a click. As soon as the door closed, you giggled into Jake's chest, a mix of amusement and mortification filling your chest. 

“God, I'm gonna kill him.” 

Your laughter brought his gaze down to you. 

“He's just being supportive.”

“Yeah, well, I wish he wouldn't look at you while he's being so supportive.” Jake huffed.

“Jake…”

“What? I don’t like him looking at what’s mine, especially when you’re looking like a wet dream out of a Playboy Magazine.”

Your smile grew with the shivers that ran along your spine at his tone. 

“I wouldn’t say that-” Your eyes diverted from him to focus on the tiled floor. Your hair was still messy from your roll in the sheets and shower, and your eyes still felt sticky with sleep. 

He gently lifted your chin to meet his gaze. 

“I would. Every time.”

You swallowed at his tone that dripped with loving sincerity. He grinned, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quickly reaching your lips with a deep hum. 

If you had a mirror, you’d assume your face was the color of fully-bloomed roses.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, lewdly persuading entrance to tangle with your own. You moaned against his mouth as he gently laid you back against the cold countertop, his mouth trailing down your neck, gently teasing your pert nipples through the cotton of his Navy shirt with his expert tongue. 

“Jake-”

He hummed, “What is it, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers tugged down your panties to the cold tile floor with a soft thump. His hands pushed your shirt up over your head to expose your lush breasts to his warm touch, flinging the piece of cotton onto the couch.

“We don’t know when Javy’s getting back.” Your hands coming up to cover your bare chest.

His eyebrows furrowed in amusement, a gentle smirk on his lips.

“Javy always does his errands on Saturday mornings. He’ll be gone for a good few hours.” 

You swallowed, biting at the inside of your cheek. 

“Plus, he was right about one thing.” 

Your eyebrows scrunched together, his nose trailing along your neck as his lips reached the shell of your ear. His hands gently move to replace yours on your breasts. 

“The counter would be smart to utilize while he’s gone.” He nipped at your earlobe, relishing in the soft moan and shudder than accentuated his improper words and actions. His eyes rose to meet yours as his broad hands pushed down on the counter to show its sturdiness with a smirk. 

“We’ve barely touched our breakfast, and-” you words paused on your lips as his hands squeezed at your hips and thighs, nudging them further apart, “don’t you get tired of being this horny?”

Deep chested grumbles of laughter bubbled up as he brought his lips to yours. 

“You just have that effect on me, sweetheart, and I have a lot of time to make up for.” He teased with a grin, gently running the pad of his forefinger through your already soaked folds. 

“And it feels like to me, you don’t seem to mind.” He husked. 

Your chest heaved with a shortness of breath you didn’t know you had. You pulled his lips to yours, moaning against his now strawberry sweet lips. A sharp whine leaving your own as he eased two of his thick fingers into your molten, awaiting cunt. 

“Easy there, Lass, I’ll take care of you.” His saccharine grin made you realize you would be on this counter for as long as time would allow. 

—

“So I noticed your car was parked here this morning.”

Penny’s amused tone made you almost drop the clean glass in your hand.

“Yeah,” you awkwardly chuckled, “I stayed the night with a friend.” You gave her a tight lipped smile. Penny’s eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t press. Her typical kind smile passed her lips, “Well I’m glad to see you got over Hangman. You’re too good for him, and he’s still not welcome here.” You swallowed as her eyes grew ever sharper with each word. 

“Yeah,” you fiddled with the towel and the glass in your hand, “well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.” You bit your lip as her face grew concerned. Your eyes darted around the empty bar, hoping to find something to take the edge off of the conversation. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes focus back on her.

“Hang-,” you cleared your throat, “Jake came by here last night.” Penny’s posture straightened as her eyebrows furrowed. 

Your eyes grew wide in panic, “But it’s ok! He came by to apologize to me.” The sharpness in Penny’s gaze dulled as your tone and words registered. “And, I spent the night with him.” You breathed out. “He told me he loves me.”

Penny’s gaze was trying to fight for any semblance of sharpness. She’d known Hangman for years before you came along. Seen all the hookups that transpired in her bar because of his charm, and the inevitable wreckage afterwards. And not once did he have the decency to apologize for breaking a poor girl’s heart. Much less tell them he loved them and make up with them. 

“Even after we… did things.”

You frankly didn’t know what compelled you to share that detail. Maybe it was because Penny had become a maternal figure to you during your time at grad school and you could be vulnerable with her about this. She would probably know more than most, given her history with Maverick. You bit your lip, hoping and praying that Penny wouldn’t tear Jake to shreds if he stepped foot into the Hard Deck. Penny had had her fair share of relationships and only one of them resulted in her being told she was loved after sex- Maverick. Penny’s eyes reverted to the same trademark warmth she always looked at you with, a small smile on her face. “I’m glad you and Hangman made up, but if he hurts you… promise me you’ll tell me. Ok?”

You nodded, ”Does this mean Jake is ok to come back to the Hard Deck?”

She breathed through her teeth, before chuckling, “I think you’ll need to clear the air with Phoenix first. My jurisdiction only goes so far. If she sees him here, she’ll do a lot worse than punch him in the nose.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Did Nat punch him in the nose?”

—

“Well, you’re looking better.”

You quickly turned at the sound of Phoenix’s encouraging tone. Her eyes tracing over your lush, wavy hair and your scintillating blood moon manicured nails that made your eyes pop. 

“And it looks like it in more ways than one too.” She smirked, eyes tracing over the poorly concealed hickey.

Your blush spread like waves over a shoreline, bringing your hand up to hide the mark with a nervous smile.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better since last night.”

You swallowed as your eyes darted to see Bob settle against Phoenix at the bar top. Giving Bob a smile, you placed a cup of peanuts from under the bartop in front of him. 

Phoenix smiled at the gesture. 

“So did you end up going out with Halo’s friend from the gym?” Bob asked before scooping some peanuts into his mouth.

You always admired how perceptive Bob was. He could piece together a conversation like the snap of his finger. 

“N-no, I didn’t.” You bit at your lip. 

I really hope they don’t kill me for this, you thought. 

“Well,” Phoenix urged on, “was it somebody who came in last night?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, nervously puffing out laughter.

“You could say that.”

Her eyes lit up, “Ok, so who’s the lucky guy… or girl?” she teased.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. 

Phoenix had been encouraging you to explore your sexuality since the whole situation with Hangman went down the drain. Well, before Jake pulled it out of said drain less than 24 hours ago. 

You bit your lip, “Um.” You swallowed.

Phoenix’s eyebrows furrowed and Bob watched on with piqued interest.

“Jake came by last night.” 

You internally winced as both of their smiles fully faded.

“Cali…” Phoenix’s voice was laced with frustration and pity, the latter burning the most. 

“I know it sounds bad, but-”

“How could you take him back?” Phoenix’s voice rattled your heart. Bob stood by silently. But his face spoke the words just said. 

You took a breath, swallowing “he came by to apologize.”

Her gaze softened. But only slightly so. 

You still slept with him, again, She thought. 

But then again, Hangman didn’t apologize. Ever. 

“And, he told me he’s in love with me.”  

And he most definitely didn’t tell hookups he loved them. Much less in love with them. In fact, in time Phoenix knew him, Jake never had anything serious with anyone. Not even a date.

Phoenix and Bob exchanged looks.

“And that he can’t let me go again.” You finished, watching them apprehensively as you toyed with your nails. 

“I just don’t want you to punch him again.” You softly state.

Phoenix took a breath, before scoffing.

“It doesn’t excuse him from what he did-”

“I know that-”

“But, nothing. You’re too good for him, and how can you trust he won’t hurt you again?”

You swallowed, trying to stave off tears.

Bob winced at her words. Phoenix was right to be concerned. Angry, even.

But he saw how Jake had changed since spending time with you, and how he was when you ended your arrangement. That had to mean something more than what words alone could reveal. There was even a running joke regarding how much time Hangman spent with Caledonia, even just helping her at the Hard Deck. 

“Nat,” Bob interrupted. 

She turned to him, eyes still bright with fire. “You’ve seen how he’s been lately and how he was before.” Her jaw tensed. Of course Bob had a point. He always had a point. 

A thick silence settled over your corner of the bar top as regulars started to trickle in.

“I can’t explain how I know, but I just know that he means it.” You turn your gaze from Bob to Natasha, making your stance clear.

She sighed, “look, I just want you to be safe and happy, and if you truly believe he can be that for you… then he’s in serious trouble if he hurts you again.”

You embrace Nat in a hug that has her a bit startled. Sniffling, “I will. Thank you.”

You pull away, wiping away the last remnant of your tears with your apron. 

“Promise me you’ll take it easy on him on base? Well, easier?” Your borderline plea made  Natasha purse her lips before breathing out of her nose.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best. But if he starts something, I have my right to respond with a full arsenal.” 

Your lip tipped up into a grin. 

“I hope you know that you’re the only person I would ever do this for. You know that right?” 

You nodded, cheeks aching from your grin.  A regular had called you over, excusing yourself from your friends. Phoenix and Bob watched on as you served drinks. 

“Hangman better watch out if something happens to her. He doesn’t know what he’s got in a girl like her.” She huffed, snagging a peanut from his cup.

“I think he does now.” Bob’s quiet comment stops her mid chew.

His gaze still on you across the bar before turning to her. 

She huffed again. She had a scintilla of belief that Bob was right. 

—

Your shift passed you like a blur, lost in the fluid routine of serving drinks and orders. The comfort of familiarity flooding your fingertips and eased your senses. The laughter of your friends around the pool tables and Penny’s words of encouragement as things got busier as the night went on made you feel at home again.

“Here’s a whiskey neat for you.” You smiled, turning back to where the beer taps were, grabbing more glasses from underneath the polished wood. 

“Excuse me, Darlin’.”

Your eyes darted up to a voice that had excitement thrumming through you, your grin barely contained. Evergreen eyes greeted you, “a whiskey neat on my tab please.” His bright grin soon matched yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked warmly as you made his drink.

“Penny texted me saying I could come back to the Hard Deck.” His lip quirking, “On the condition that I help you close up after your shifts for the foreseeable future.” He chuckled, letting his lips tilt into a smile, “and I wanted to see you.” 

He leaned in closer to you, his eyes tracing your full lips up to your eyes that held so much warmth. “She did mention that I needed to worry about Phoenix, though.”

You snorted. “I think you’ll be ok, just stay here at the bar top with me. I’ll protect you.” Your playful wink made his chest rumble with laughter. 

Jake stayed at his spot at the bartop, even when you slipped away to serve drinks. The more you were gone, the more exposed he felt, and the more he felt his confident facade was weakening. He could still feel a bounty on his head, hence the lack of appeal the pool tables held for him tonight. He took sips of his drink, keeping his gaze on you.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.” He almost flinched at the familiar baritone. He turned, met with a questionable choice of Hawaiian shirt and a mustache he could barely stand. 

“But given how miserable you were, it’s not entirely a surprise you came crawling back to her. And by the looks of it, she took you back.” He stated more flatly. 

“Hey, Rooster, can I grab you something?” you asked sweetly, eyes darting from Jake’s to the aviator in front of you.

“Yeah, Rooster, what do you want? It’s on me.” Bradshaw’s eyebrows shot up as Jake laid down his card on the glossy surface. Bradshaw eyed him suspiciously before diverting his gaze to you. “One Blue Moon, please, thanks.”

You smiled at Jake, taking his card. 

As you turned away to grab his glass, Bradshaw was back to facing the last man he thought he’d see tonight.

Jake took a sip of his drink, rocking the glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m trying to make it right.” Bradshaw couldn’t find a sliver of anything to indicate Jake had ill intent, making his eyebrows furrow for a split second. 

“Here’s your beer, enjoy.” You smiled at Bradley.

“Here’s your card, baby.” You leaned in giving Jake a kiss, sliding the card over the bartop to him. Bradshaw had only seen Hangman blush when he was relentlessly teased in the break room and locker room. It was…different, to see Jake blush when the reason for it was right in front of him. As soon as you were there, you were whisked away to serve another customer. Bradshaw’s gaze followed you before turning to Jake, seeing the smile on his face. Not a cocky, confident smile, but a genuine one that was getting less and less rare with you around.

“I don’t know what she sees in you, but you better not fuck up again.” Bradshaw’s tone didn’t hold the same bite it had before. His hand gave an attempt of a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. Some semblance of an olive branch being passed to him.

“I won’t.” Jake said just before Bradshaw left ear shot, saying it more to himself than anyone. 

   As your shift progressed members of the team came and passed, relations settling at the sight of you and Jake at the bar top when you weren’t being pulled away to serve customers. Soon the end of your shift had arrived and your friends waved goodbye and some even acknowledged Jake as they left. Phoenix’s gaze towards him as she waved goodbye wasn’t as sharp as it had been the past few weeks. The last chair was stacked above the tables and soon you were dragging Jake out of the Hard Deck with you after bidding Penny a goodnight. Penny’s watchful yet warm gaze settled on you both as Jake held the door for you to go outside, and followed you till your cars left the parking lot, heading in the same direction. 

—

"Well, who is this little miss?" Jake crouched down in the hallway and let your new addition to the Benjamin's home softly sniff at his hand and rub her head against his leg.  

"Oh, um, that's Chanel. I got her a few weeks ago,” you replied.  

"Chanel," Jake tried out, "that's a very pretty name for a very pretty girl," he cooed as she let him scratch under her chin and purred. You smiled at the sight, "she's been a little shy around…well, everyone. It's nice that she's warming up to others." A snort left you as Jake tried to stand up, but was met with charged meows of protest. 

"I'm sorry, Chanel, I thought I gave you enough attention…but you're just like your mama, can't get enough." He winked at you, making you smile and your cheeks warm. 

 "Where'd you find this little attention magnet?"

"There's an animal shelter near the lab that was having a meet and greet. Ella took me when… when you ended things.” You tried to push down the somber thoughts that threatened to bubble up after all the positive progress that was made tonight. Jake's gaze softened at your words. “She was huddled in the back of the room, so I took her home." You could feel your eyes get teary at the resurface of the freshly scabbed wounds. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, his lips pointed in a slight frown. “I’m so sorry, Caledonia.” Your eyes met his heavy, sincere ones as he gently took your hand in his soft grasp. 

“I should never have done what I did to you.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, taking a step closer to him, gently cupping his freshly shaved cheeks. Letting your thumbs rub against his smooth skin.

“I know you’re sorry, and,” you took a breath, “I forgive you.” 

Jake feels his heart beat halt in his chest. He couldn’t describe in words how much those three words meant to him. “But you should know, I don’t give out second chances easily, and…for what it’s worth, Phoenix clocking you is quite the punishment.”

You gently ran your fingers along the edge of his nose.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, feeling his lip quirk. 

“You heard about that, huh?”

He cringed a bit as your lip tilted into a smile. 

“Surprisingly, Penny was less discreet about it than your colleagues.” You breathed out a chuckle. He watched as Chanel trotted to your crouched down form, circling in front of you, sliding your open palm along her arched back, her tail that rivaled that of a Swiffer duster oscillating above her. Jake knew he would do whatever it took to stay with you. He’d already been given a chance he didn’t deserve and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it. His warm jade gaze watched on as you gingerly picked her up as little trills and chirps left her, supporting her, and gingerly stroking her chin as she closed her eyes. "Do you wanna come upstairs? Watch something?" His gaze snapped to your own, nodding. 

"Sure," he murmured.

—

“You, know, I haven’t taken you out on a proper date, yet.” Jake whispered, his warm gaze shifting from Chanel’s purring form between you both on the bed to your bright ocean blue one already on his. 

“Glad to hear that’s where your mind is at after watching the X-Files with me, lover boy.”

His grin widened at your teasing tone. He scooted closer on his side, leaning down to kiss your ever-so sweet lips. 

“I’m serious. I want to do this right with you.”

Your heart pulsed all the faster, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, warping your smile. 

He took a breath. “Ms. Hughes, would you do me the honor of going out with me this Saturday night?”

Your blush bloomed on your cheeks like a field of poppies. He watched tentatively as you tilted your head to the side, gaze diverting as if thinking hard about the question. 

You sucked in air through your teeth, “Hm, I don’t think I can.” Jake’s face dropped.  “There’s this guy I really like that asked me out, and well, he’s sweet and very well endowed. And I don’t think I can say no to him. I’m sure you can understand.” You playfully examined your scarlet red manicured nails, fighting to keep your resolve neutral. His eyebrows furrowed, before a teasing smile lit up his features. 

“Hm, well endowed, huh?” His eyes matched your gleam.

You hummed in agreement, “Yeah, he’s always calling me Lass and, well, he recently came to his senses about me, and,” you pursed your lips, tucking some hair behind your ear, “I don’t think I can say no to him.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat, shaking his head as he gently brought your lips to his, taking in your sweet hums and sighs. He slid his tongue into your mouth, scooting closer into your personal space, almost forgetting that Chanel was settled comfortably between you both. Her meows and yowls of discontentment separating both of you with a jolt. His eyes darted from her lounging form back to your eyes, chuckles passing both of your lips.

“Well, it sounds like I have some competition.” He murmured, eyes bright with that teasing glint you loved.

You hummed in agreement, gently running your fingers over Chanel’s delicate fur, your playful eyes meeting his. 

“Is he also hoping to pick you up at 8 on Saturday?”

Your smirk widened.

“Somewhere in that ballpark.” You teased.

“Somewhere in that ballpark?” Jake scoffed, “doesn’t really sound like you're too wild about this ‘well endowed’ guy if you can’t even remember when he’s supposed to pick you up.” 

Your smile broke out into a grin at his playful tone, his chuckles soon following yours.  

You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, your noses brushing.

“I’d love to go out with you on Saturday night.”

Jake could have sworn his cheeks hadn’t hurt this much from a grin in his entire life. Chanel jumped down from the bed, opening up more space for you to lay closer to Jake. His grin widening as you promptly filled the space. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He whispered, leaning his lips down closer to yours. 

You pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“One question, though-”

“Anything.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “can we still do our fun, little lessons together?”

His eyebrows shot up. 

 Can we still do our fun, little lessons together?

He smirked, that charming smile bubbling below the surface.

Fun, little lessons, huh?

“Yeah, Lass, we can still do our fun, little lessons. We go as long or as short as you want, remember?”

Your eyes diverted away before your grin took over, bringing your eyes back to his.

“I mean, we’ve definitely covered a lot of bases.” You murmured, toying with your nails as you let your head settle into where his neck meets his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we definitely have,” he chuckled, his hands rubbing soothingly along your back and waist as he mentally tallied off the list.

“There’s still some more things I want to try with you, though…that we didn’t get to add to the list.” He murmured against your forehead as he gave you a soft kiss. 

You hummed, the body heat encasing you making you realize just how tired you really were, “Like what?” 

He leaned his head back against your bed frame, your body adjusting to lean against him. His hand taking hold of one of your own, gently running his thumb along the back of your hand. His eyes drawing to the deep red hue of your nails that suited you well. 

“Well, Lass, I was thinking you might like being tied up a little. We still have those fuzzy blue handcuffs to try out,” he noticed the slight clench of your thighs at the statement, making him grin. He didn’t have to see your face to know it was beginning to bloom like the Indian paintbrush flowers that grew in his family’s garden.

“Maybe you’d like it if we brought some whipped cream and chocolate into the mix, maybe some ice cubes-”

Your core stirred at the idea of licking delectable treats off of his body. And him doing the same to you. 

“Ice cubes?”

“Yeah, Lass,” he chuckled, through his drawl, “Ice cubes, it feels mighty fine from what I’ve seen and heard, especially on your pretty clit and tits.” 

You sighed, feeling your horniness start to brew.

“And I was thinking maybe we could try some role playing, we never did try out that mini skirt we bought, and I have a nice suit in my closet, and, forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you strike me as someone who had the hots for one of your professors in college.” He smirked as you blushed, fully taking in the proposed scenario. You couldn’t deny his hunch. 

“And I was thinking anal might be something you’d like to try.” Your head shot up, eyes widening as you met his warm gaze, like melted jade simmering in a cauldron, his smirk still drawing your attention. You’d never even considered anal as something you would want to try, but you couldn’t deny the quick flash of excitement in your clit at the idea. 

“But we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.” He quickly reassured. He still had the sapphire blue heart cut crystal butt plug from Myrtle’s shop, and he could always return it. But he swore he could see a glint of excitement in your eyes regarding the topic. 

“What else do you want to try?” Your breathless tone made him smile and heart buzz with excitement. 

“Well, I was thinking, if you’re up for it, we could use some more of the sex toys we bought, you could also take the lead with some of them if you’d like, like the cockring we bought,” he cleared his throat, a blush starting to work its way up his neck. 

Your eyebrows furrowed before a gentle smile took over. His demeanour when talking about taking control and relinquishing it always differed in a peculiar way.

“I’d like to try taking more control with you…Too bad the cockring is at your place.” You whispered coquettishly.

His eyebrows shot up as your body rose for you to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes followed your every move as you settled onto his lap, letting your sharp nails scratch down the material of the front of his shirt. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his pupils blown wide with lust. 

“We do have to be careful. Penny and Amelia are probably asleep.” You whispered out as he huffed. 

Right. He forgot you didn’t have your own place. 

“We’ll just have to be quiet then, handsome.” You smirked, bringing your lips down to his. 

He moaned against your lips, completely trapped under your body and your sweet, delicious lips consuming him. 

—

Jake gently closed your bedroom door with a soft click after you gave him many kisses goodnight and made him promise to visit you on your shift tomorrow. He quietly crept down the stairs. He didn’t need Penny and Amelia to be upset with him, again, for waking them up. His footsteps fell soft against the hardwood flooring as he stepped into his shoes.

“This seems a bit more comfortable than going out the window.”

Jake almost jumped out of his skin, quickly turning to see Amelia at the counter with a glass of water and her plaid pajamas. A displeased expression on her face, making him nervous. 

“Amelia, you’re up late-”

“So are you.” She quipped, eyes sharp. 

He sighed. Right. It made sense that Amelia would be mad at him. 

“Listen, Amelia,” he ran his hand over his face,” me and Caledonia-”

“Just don’t break her heart again.”

He swallowed, watching the teenage girl maintain eye contact that matched her sharp tone before gathering her things and disappearing up the stairs.

The door clicked shut behind him, his shoes crunching under the gravel of their driveway. He turned back to look at the window he crawled out of weeks prior. His lip quirked at the memory of your sweet smile and words that soothed him like balm on the cracks in his heart.

I forgive you. 

Taglist: 

@marvel-hotchner @nemesis729 @a-lil-bit-nuts @mizzzpink @themusingofagothicsoul @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981   @a-beaverhausen @withahappyrefrain @hangmans-wingman   @callmemana @joalslibrary @peachiicherries @whiskeyswriting @entertainmentgirl80 @jkbindigo11 @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @teacupsandtopgun @chaoticassidy @superskittles @cherrycola27 @h-ngm-ns @emma8895eb @djs8891 @novastories @urmom-999 @taytaylala12 @zombicupcake3 @abaker74 @kmc1989 @hangmanshoney @caidi-paris @i-wanna-be-your-muse @shara-ne @memeorydotcom @memoriesat30 @shanimallina87 @whoeverineedtobe @gigisimsonmars @slippinginto-theairwaves @phoenix-rising-starbird-one @cardi-bre91 @yuckosworld @blackcatdhisgf @isabelstardis @marbledaesthetics @goldenseresinretriever

[tragedybunny]

omg your requests are open? If you're okay with some angst but a sweet ending, can I please request Astarion overhearing the others trying to warn you about Astarion? Like, telling the reader (female please) that he doesn't actually care or like her and she just looks sad and says "I know, but I'm stupid and care about him" and he just gets upset and wants to prove that he does like her? Sorry if this is dumb, haha

Hi Anon, My usual apologies for the wait. I wanted to do a different spin on this because I always find it a little jarring that Astarion confesses to you and then is so prickly about killing the Orthon to get information from Raphael. I always wondered if it occurred to him he was being kind of a jerk about it. So this scene plays out in the second act.

This Is Me - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion lurked at the outskirts of camp, unable to bring himself to come face you. After everything he'd told you, after those moments of hope, he'd failed, himself and you. The Orthon, he’d been less than gracious about getting around to killing the devil. And after, gods, why did he talk to you like that? Because the scars on his back felt like they burned, and his mind had screamed at him since you'd said they were infernal. Even though he knew you'd been upset, you'd only turned away, saying that it was probably wise to rest before pursuing Thorm’s relic further. 

You all had made a makeshift camp in the heart of Shar’s sanctuary, where not even Shadowheart seemed wholly at ease. And he’d hidden like a coward until now, when he’d finally been able to push himself to come find you. Creeping back to camp, he’d been silent, trying to figure out where you were without running into any of the others, he couldn’t take whatever disdain he’d find in their eyes either. 

He’d made it close to your shared tent when the sound of Shadowheart’s voice had frozen him where he stood. “I’m not saying he’s not sincere, I’m just saying, we all know Astarion by now. He looks out for himself first.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” even if you didn’t sound convinced, the fact that you even had to say those words was enough for him to feel like his unbeating heart was shattering behind his rib cage. 

“She has a point Soldier, I like Fangs well enough, but you know how he can be. Just be careful with yourself,” Karlach added. Did they all believe he only thought about himself? 

“We just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Of course, Gale had to add to it. 

“I know you’re all concerned, and I know how he can be, but I care about Astarion.” He didn’t need to hear anymore. No one had managed to spot him, so he slipped into your shared tent and tried not to fall apart. 

Everyone in this damned camp wanted to warn you away from him, and the worst part was that they weren’t wrong. How long had it taken him to behave like an arse to you? He did care though, that wasn’t a lie or a scheme. Where you’d accepted it before on just his word, it felt he’d have to prove it now, since he’d gone and messed everything up.  He just didn’t know how.

Huddled on the floor of the tent, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and frantically thought.

Sex was out of the question, even if he could bring himself to do it, you’d see through it in a heartbeat. What else did he have? A lot of pretty words and burdens, which you already shouldered. He glanced around the tent at his scattered, sparse belongings, noting you hadn’t even had time to unpack yet. Maybe that was the answer. 

If there was more said about him, he hadn’t heard, intentionally blocking out whatever other sounds he heard. He assumed there was dinner, at some point, nothing for him to miss there. You appeared in the entrance to the tent far sooner than he had expected though, and caught him still packing things in his bag. “So that’s it, you’re just going to up and leave? And here I was getting worried you’d been gone so long tonight.” Your voice was deadly calm and he couldn't tell if you were sad or furious. 

Closing his eyes, he centers himself, trying not to get lost in the maelstrom inside his own mind. Standing, he looked you in the eyes, pained to find unshed tears sparkling there, but this was for the best. “I’m going to face Cazador, and whatever he’s done to me, alone.”

“W-what? Is this because of the Orthon?” The words fade into a stunned whisper, you don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Desperately, he gropes for your hand, to comfort you, to explain to you, but you pull away. “You’ll just abandon me because I didn’t kill it quick enough?’

“Love, no! I just need to do this on my own. To show you.” The words run out and he clenches and unclenches his hands frustratedly. 

“By the gods, show me what?” 

“That I’m not using you. That I do care about you for more than what you can do for me. I’ll go to Baldur’s Gate and when I’m done I’ll wait for you.” 

With it all said, Astarion waits in the silence for your response. He waits far longer than he thought he would. Really, he’d thought you’d embrace the idea after everything he’d overheard. “Astarion,” you begin sweetly, and you have his rapt attention, “are you out of your fucking mind?” You grasp his shoulders and clench them tightly, fingers digging in, emphasizing your words. 

“I…of course not!” He tries half-heartedly to pull out of your grip, but you don’t seem keen to let him go. “But you don’t trust me any more so what,” his voice cracks unpleasantly and you release his shoulders, arm wrapping around his chest, “what else can I do.” 

Instinctively, he returns your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “You heard all that, didn’t you? I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want them to worry about it anymore.” 

“What if they're right? I'm not sure that I can think about anyone else first until this is done, and I fear I’m going to hurt you.” He doesn't look up from where he's pressed against your skin, not wanting to see if you agree. 

“I knew that Astarion, it was obvious from the start.” You let go and push away, putting space between the two of you as your hand comes to cup his cheek and hold his gaze on yours. “We'll deal with this together, just like I promised.” 

You plant a small kiss on his cheek and he almost sobs, pulling you back into a fierce hug. “You…”

“Silly girl?” You finish with a small laugh.

“Incredibly sweet and wonderful girl.”

“Now you're just trying to flatter me.” He can hear the relief in your voice. “Unpack, please. I’m exhausted and your bag is in the middle of our tent.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” There really is no fighting you once you’ve made up your mind, and he doesn’t really want to go anymore. 

“Absolutely not, silly boy.” The kiss you give him is soft and warm enough that it chases away his lingering doubts, for tonight at least. 

Tag List:

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @astariongf

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Cinderblock Garden - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request that I got, but after talking with the person that requested it, I made a few changes and didn't want to use the request in the fic lmao. It's LONG AS FUCK and I've been working on this for four days now. There's a lot in this, from events in Scream 5, leading to New York stuff.

*to the sweet soul that requested this, I hope things are a little better for you now, and I hope you like this and that it was worth the wait lmao*

This contains SMUT -Minors DNI

Summary: You're the child of Gale and Dewey, and after losing your dad and almost dying yourself, you struggle with day to day life. When you meet Ethan, he just wants you to let him in, but after your ex, Amber, tried to kill you, you struggle to do that.

Contains: Over 10k words, jesus. Angst, mentions of death, mental health struggles, some fluffy smut tbh. Virgin!Ethan and Virgin!Reader -p in v, oral(f recieving).

A/N: In this fic, Ethan is simply Ethan Landry and has no relation to Richie.

When your parents split, you had the option to move to New York with your mom, Gale, or stay in Woodsboro with your dad, Dewey. You decided to stay with your dad because your mom’s main priority was always her career. Even when you’d go out to visit her every now and then, she’d never take any time off, always leaving you alone in her condo. You couldn’t stand her new boyfriend, either. You hated how quickly she could just move on from your dad when he still loved her so much.

You had your doubts about love after watching your parents’ marriage fall apart, until you met Amber. It started off as a friendship, the perfect distraction from your less than perfect home life. Especially when your dad started drinking, she was always there. You realized that you had feelings, she did, too. Everyone else in the friend group was a little surprised by it, but they were all very accepting of it, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy.

When Tara got attacked, your dad wanted to put you on the first plane to New York. Your mom agreed with him, but you refused. You weren’t going to leave your best friend while she recovered, and you really didn’t want to leave Amber.

“Please, this is what’s best for you,” your dad said, pleading with you to get out of Woodsboro. “You’re the child of two people that have been through this several times. If they went after Tara, they’ll probably come after you. I can’t let that happen.”

You sighed, noticing the whisky bottle in his hand. “You put me through so many self defense classes…I think I can handle myself.”

“I was the sheriff, with far more training than you’ve had. I’ve been stabbed several times…you’re not invincible.”

“I’m not saying I am. If I really am a target, don’t you think they’d find me regardless of if I’m in Woodsboro or not?” you questioned, as he took a swig out of the bottle. “I’m safer here with you.”

He sighed, looking over to you. “Fine, but the tracking app on your phone…if you turn it off so I can’t find you, you’re going to New York. If you don’t come straight home after school, you’re going to New York. If you have a run-in with Ghostface-“

“I’m going to New York. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to do anything other than go to school or be here?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to lose you,” he said, his tone stern.

“Okay, but what happens when you’re at the bar getting wasted and I’m here by myself? Isn’t it safer to have people around me?” You didn’t expect your question to come out as harshly as it did, his face wincing as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“No, you’re right. I’ll be home more, I promise,” he said, feeling guilty for making you doubt him. “Just…if you do go out with your friends, please be smart about it. Someone you’re close to is probably a part of this…just remember that. And I meant what I said about the phone tracker.”

You nodded, as he pulled you into a side hug. “Your mom is probably coming out here, just so you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “The boyfriend isn’t coming with her, right?”

“I don’t know. I hope not,” he sighed, the sadness in his voice obvious. “You better get to school.”

Everyone in your friend group was on edge. Tara was alive, but her condition wasn’t great. As you joined your friends at the picnic tables outside, Amber wrapped her arm around you.

“Hey, babe,” she said, “Did you get questioned, too?”

“Yeah, I was interrogated for all of five minutes. I guess that’s the perk of being a former sheriff’s kid,” you said, as Wes looked over to you.

“How is your dad? We haven’t seen him in a while,” he asked, as you shrugged.

“He’s still the same. He tried to convince me to go to New York after what happened last night,” you sighed, as Wes gave you a confused look.

“If you had the chance to get far away from here, why the fuck wouldn’t you take it?” he asked, the paranoia that his mom instilled in him apparent as you just looked at him.

“I’m not leaving Tara…or you guys. It’s better to have more people here if this is going to be another huge thing like it’s been before.”

“Yeah, but is it a safety in numbers thing, or will it just add to the body count if you stay?” Mindy asked, as Chad sighed.

“Seriously? We’re all freaked out enough,” he said, as Wes’ phone dinged in his pocket.

“Hey guys, Tara just woke up.”

When everyone got up to leave, you looked around at your friends, thinking back to what your dad said. You saw them all in such a positive light that you couldn’t even begin to suspect any of them.

Once you made it to the hospital, Tara was so happy to see everyone. Or it could’ve been all the pain meds she was on. You sat down at the foot of her bed as she sleepily smiled.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, starting to tear up as you looked at her.

“I’m okay, still shaken up, though,” she sighed, “They have police protection for me, but you guys need to be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amber said knowingly as Tara smiled.

Then you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years walk into the hospital room, with whom you assumed to be her boyfriend when he called her ‘babe’.

“Hey, this is Richie,” Sam said, introducing him as he awkwardly waved.

He gave you the creeps from the start. You couldn’t shake the thought from your mind that he was guilty of something, but your parents always told you that you needed to be cautious of everyone.

“Hey, can I talk to Sam alone?” Tara asked, as everyone nodded. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course, we’ll be back tomorrow,” you said, standing up to leave.

When you made it out to the hallway, you checked the time and saw a few missed calls from your dad.

“Fuck, I need to get home,” you said, typing a text to him before putting your phone back in your pocket.

“We were going to go have some fun, though,” Amber said, “Is this how it’s going to be? Ghostface comes back and I don’t get to spend time with my girlfriend?”

“You really won’t spend any time with me if I get sent to New York,” you said, as you hopped on the elevator with everyone.

 “This is annoying,” she huffed, “Wes is allowed to go out with us, and you know how his mom is.”

“Hey,” Wes said, “I have a taser and pepper spray, I’m good to go.”

“And I’ve got these hands, but dad doesn’t think that’s good enough,” you laughed, as you made it to the bottom floor. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your dad was a little annoyed when you got home, but he was just happy to know you were safe. As much as he hated your decision to stay in Woodsboro, he thought you were a pretty good judge of character and you always paid close attention to your surroundings.

Things just kept getting crazier. When Wes and Judy were killed, you and your dad ran into Sam at the crime scene. You were making small talk with her, when she nudged her head in the direction behind you.

“Isn’t that your mom?” she asked, as you turned around.

You noticed she had a camera crew with her, as you felt anger start to build up. Your dad went over to talk to her, as she kept peaking around him to look at you.

“Typical. Something happens in Woodsboro and she has to get the fucking story on it,” you said to Sam.

She was about to respond when she noticed the cop that was supposed to be watching Tara’s room standing outside of the Hick’s house.

“Who’s with my sister?” She questioned as he looked at her, confused.

She started to yell, getting your dad’s attention as he ran back over to you, your mom hot on his heels.

“I need to get to Tara,” Sam said, running towards her car.

“I’m coming with you,” you said, following her.

“I don’t think so,” Gale said, “You’re staying here, around people so you’ll be safe.”

You scoffed as you turned to look at her, “So now you decide you want to be a parent?”

She was taken aback at your words, as your dad stepped in. “I’ll go, too. She’ll be safe.”

He hopped in the passenger’s seat as you got in the back, your mom just standing there in shock as the three of you sped off.

“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” Dewey scolded, as he noticed Sam’s high rate of speed. “and you should probably slow down.”

“Tara’s by herself. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Sam snapped, as she turned onto the road that led to the hospital. “Richie’s on his way, I hope someone gets there in time.”

She got out her phone to call Richie, as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was frantic when she realized the call was picked up, but she was terrified once she heard Ghostface’s voice. She stopped the car as she talked, quickly jumping out with you and your dad as you ran inside of the hospital to the elevator to get to Tara’s private floor.

She just kept talking to the killer as you and your dad silently stood beside her. He pulled out his gun, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they did, he fired a shot, the loud bang making you jump. The masked person scurried away, when everyone piled out of the elevator to save Tara and Richie.

“Tara!” you screamed, running up to her. Your dad ran to Richie as you and Sam helped Tara off the floor.

Your best friend was very emotional and shaken up as her sister hugged her, but you were still on edge. You had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

Then, you saw Ghostface charge towards Richie and your dad. You grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and ran towards the figure that was trying to attack your dad. You hit the person over the head, but you felt a sharp, burning pain in your side as you did. Your dad was able to fight back thanks to your distraction, getting in a few shots as Ghostface fell through the glass case against the hallway wall.

“Fuck,” you cried, holding your wound. Your dad’s arms wrapped around you as he walked you towards the elevator, when Richie walked over to help.

“Thanks,” Dewey said, as he walked you inside. “Shit, I didn’t shoot him in the head.”

“Does that really matter right now?” you asked, as he nodded. He stepped back out of the elevator, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, doubled over. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to finish this,” he said, as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Dad, no. You can’t do that!” you cried, as he started to walk down the hall.

“I need to make sure you’re safe. This is how I can do that,” he paused, “I love you.”

As soon as those elevator doors closed, you started screaming, begging to go back to your dad. Sam wouldn’t let that happen. She just kept trying to assure you that he’d be okay, and that you and Tara both needed medical attention.

He wasn’t okay, though. You soon learned what happened to your dad when your mom somberly walked into the hospital room, her sad eyes meeting yours. To say you were emotionally destroyed would’ve been an understatement. You expected your mom to be a little more comforting, and she was trying, but she seemed more interested in getting details on any new leads the detectives might’ve had.

For safety reasons, they moved Tara to the same room as you, making it easier for the police to keep an eye on the both of you.

“She’s really starting to piss me off,” you sighed, as Tara looked over at you. “I’m in here, absolutely fucking devastated, and she’d rather talk to the cops.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to do what she can to keep you safe,” she suggested, “Have you heard from Amber?”

“Yeah, she’s having a party for Wes tonight. Not that you and I will be attending,” you laughed a little, as she smiled.

“Sam wants to get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t know where she wants to go, but she just wants us to be somewhere safe.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…maybe I’ll sneak out of here with you guys,” you said, half-joking as Tara started to nod.

“If your mom’s distracted, and the cops are busy talking to her anyway, we could sneak you out.”

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Your mom walked back in the room, looking back and forth between you and Tara.

“Do what?” she questioned, as you glanced back over to your friend.

“Oh, um, we were talking about college. We’re both going to apply to Blackmore,” you lied, as your mom started to smile.

“Are you warming up to the idea of New York?” she asked, as you shook your head.

“Not at all, but I want my best friend there with me,” you said, a defeated look appearing on her face.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

After the police finished questioning Richie and Sam for the second time of the day, they joined you, your mom, and Tara in the room. Sidney walked in not long after, a sad smile on her face as she saw you in the hospital bed.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, walking over to you, “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks, Sid,” you said softly, “How are the kids?”

She smiled at you, “They’re fine. They’re somewhere safe.”

“I wish I was somewhere safe,” you joked, as your mom rolled her eyes.

“You had the chance to come to New York,” she sighed, “If you would’ve just listened to me and your dad then maybe we wouldn’t be in here right now.”

“What, and dad wouldn’t be dead, too?” you snapped, looking towards her.

“I didn’t say that…this whole ‘you hating me’ thing isn’t going to work. We need to be there for each other.”

You were about to respond when a detective came in to talk to your mom. She stepped out with Sidney, walking to the next hallway over so you wouldn’t hear the conversation.

“Now’s our chance,” Tara said, as Sam looked between you two, confused.

“Chance for what?”

“We’re sneaking her out with us,” Tara said, wincing as she pulled her IV out.

“What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t been discharged yet,” Sam sighed, looking over to see you doing the same. “I’m not kidnapping you, I’m sorry.”

“Look, we want to be somewhere safe. She isn’t going to be safe if she stays here and we go. Her mom’s barely paid attention to her since we’ve been in here…if you want me to go, she’s going too,” Tara said, as Sam sighed, looking over to Richie. He shrugged, walking over to the door to peak out.

“No cops, no Gale,” he said, as Sam rolled her eyes.

“Fuck it, fine. You both better hurry up though.”

You did as Sam said, the both of you quickly changing before sneaking past the nurses’ station towards the exit.

After your mom and Sidney finished talking to a detective in the next hall over, she came back to see your bed empty. She started to panic, noticing your IV line resting on top of the bed and most of your stuff gone. She looked over to the other side of the room, realizing that Tara was gone, too.

“Excuse me, where did they take my daughter?” Gale asked one of the nurses that’d passed by the doorway.

He grabbed an iPad off the nurse’s station, trying to pull you up. “She doesn’t have any testing or anything scheduled…she’s not in her room?” He craned his neck to peak around, noticing the empty bed.

“She’s a minor, isn’t there some kind of alert you guys have for this?!” She yelled, as the nurse nodded.

“I’ll take care of that right away.”

It didn’t matter, though. You’d already made it out of the hospital by the time the code was called.

“Where do you think she went?” Sydney asked, as your mom tried to rack her brain.

“I’m not the mom of the year, okay? I barely know her anymore,” she sighed, as Sidney sympathetically smiled at her.

“Whatever happened, now that Dewey’s gone, you’re going to have to fix that relationship,” she said, as your mom nodded. “She’s a good kid.”

“I know, I just hope she’s okay.”

When you were in the back seat with Tara, her asthma was flaring up as she tried to find her inhaler.

“Fuck, I don’t have it,” she panicked, as Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Can you wait until we’re in the next town?” she asked, as Richie glanced back to see Tara’s breathing getting worse.

“No…this is getting bad,” you said, trying to search Tara’s purse again. “Do you still have the spare one at Ambers?”

“Yeah, Sam, we need to go to Amber’s,” Tara said, as Sam shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said, her lack of understanding for how bad the situation was starting to piss you off.

“She’s going to be dead by the time we get to the next fucking town. Go to Amber’s,” you yelled, as Sam hesitantly nodded. “Turn left up here.”

As your mom and Sidney searched around the hospital hoping to find you, she remembered the app Dewey put on your phone so he’d always know where you were. He gave her the log-in too just in case she ever needed it. She quickly pulled her phone out, checking to see what your location was as Sidney looked at her.

“She’s not even here,” Gale said, as she and Sidney bolted towards the exit.

Once they made it in the car and started to drive, your mom was looking at the tracking app, noticing that you’d stopped.

“Turner Lane, why does that sound so familiar?” she asked, as Sidney’s eyes grew wide.

“Please don’t tell me that’s where she is,” Sidney said, pressing the gas a little harder, “Stu Macher used to live on Turner Lane.”

“Oh fuck,” Gale said, as she tried to call you.

Your phone was on silent in your pocket as you went up to Amber’s room. The party downstairs was in full swing as you tried to help your girlfriend search for Tara’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you sighed, thinking about him as you dug through a box on top of Amber’s dresser. “Found it!” you held up the inhaler as she smiled.

“Can you please call me when you make it to wherever you’re going so I know you’re safe, please?” she asked, as she stepped towards you.

“Yeah, I just need to get the fuck away from my mom for a few days.”

She nodded in understanding as you ran out of her room, down the stairs to find Tara.

“Stupid bitch,” Amber muttered, once she knew you couldn’t hear her.

After you gave Tara her inhaler, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to see twenty missed calls from your mom.

“Jesus, someone’s freaking out,” you said, showing Tara the screen.

“Maybe you should call her back. Just let her know you’re okay.”

“Fine,” you sighed, but before you had the chance to call her, she was calling you again.

You answered, “Hey mom, I’m fine-“

“You need to get the fuck out of that house right now!” she yelled, the second she heard your voice.

“How do you know where I am?” you questioned, annoyance in your tone as she started to yell again.

“You’re in Stu Macher’s house,” your heart started to race as you looked over to Sam, Tara, and Richie. You’d heard that name many times before. You started to look around, thinking about how the party at his house was the finale of the first Woodsboro Massacre where your dad was stabbed.

“We need to get out of here, right now,” you said to them, as Richie started to smirk.

“Did someone finally figure it out?” he asked, the psychotic excitement in his voice making your skin crawl.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, jumping as you heard a gunshot coming from the living room, accompanied by several screams. “What the fuck is going on?”

Sam and Tara started to back away from Richie as you looked at him.

“God, you know, you guys really are the perfect victims. Serial killer dad,” he said, looking to Sam, “oblivious little sister,” he said to Tara, before turning to you, “and the child of the sheriff that tried to take down Billy and Stu. It’s hilarious. You get to die where he should’ve.”

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, as he started to step towards you.

“You want to know what the best part of this whole little fucked up scenario is, though?” he asked, as Amber walked into the room. “I’ve been fucking your girlfriend.” Sam glanced over to you, the obvious look of disgust and betrayal painted on both of your faces.

Your mouth dropped as you looked over to Amber. “Sorry, baby,” she said, so nonchalantly that your blood was starting to boil. You shook your head as you thought back to your dad telling you that you probably knew who was responsible for everything.

“Did you kill my dad?” you asked Amber as she shrugged, muttering “Maybe,” as you stepped towards her.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Richie said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at you as Sam and Tara started to back away, looking at you. You nodded towards the side door as Amber walked up to kiss Richie.

While they were distracted, you glanced along the counters to see if there was anything you could use that would be helpful. You saw the knife block, and as the rage started to build up even more towards Amber for stabbing you and killing your dad.

You subtly grabbed a knife from behind you, and started to step towards them as you held it firmly in your hand behind your back.

“Where did the other two go?” Amber asked, pulling away from Richie as he turned around to look.

“I’ll go find them,” he said, waving his knife around. “Don’t try anything. She doesn’t love you enough to save you.”

As soon as he walked away, you looked at Amber. “Is that true? You don’t love me enough to save me?”

“I never fucking loved you. God, I only wanted to get close to you and your friends. It amazes me how stupid you are,” she scoffed, as you stepped even closer, “What are you going to do? I was stronger than your dad, you dumb bitch. Do you really think you’re going to win in a fight against me?”

“I don’t need to be stronger than you,” you smiled, “Because you’re the one that doesn’t have a knife right now.”

As soon as you pulled the knife from behind your back, she darted towards the gun on the kitchen island. You were quicker though, stabbing her before she was able to grab it. She dropped to her knees as she held her stomach. In that moment, she looked weak and helpless. You couldn’t shake the thought that she had your dad feeling that way when she killed him.

“Baby, why would you do that?” she asked, her psychotic eyes pleading with yours.

You looked down at her, the fury in your eyes obvious as she tried to plead with you.

“How the fuck could you do this to me? To my fucking dad?!”

“Oh, please. You knew he was a shitty dad,” she scoffed, before whining again at the pain she was feeling. “I got him good, too. I just wish you could’ve seen it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you screamed, as you stabbed her again.

 Richie ran back in the room with Tara and Sam, noticing Amber on the floor and the large, bloody knife in your hand. You started to run towards him, thinking you could finish all of this. You didn’t though, because as soon as you made it to Richie, he plunged his knife into your stomach several times.

“No!” Tara screamed, as you dropped to the floor, blood immediately pooling beside you on the floor. You heard Tara’s cries as your vision started to get fuzzy.

“You really thought you were going to do something with that, didn’t you?” Richie laughed, “I’m sure your mom will be here soon, and you’ll get to be with both of your parents after I’m finished with her. Now’s a good time to thank me.”

“Fuck you,” you said weakly, as you started to lose consciousness.

“Oh, look at all that blood,” was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

You woke up in the hospital several days later with your mom and Sidney sitting beside your bed. You groaned as your eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.

“Hey,” your mom said, “They weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“Lights,” you choked out, your voice raw.

“Try not to talk a lot, okay?” Sidney said, as she got up to flip the switch. “You almost didn’t pull through. They had to intubate you for surgery.”

You laid there in silence for a few minutes, like your brain was trying to process everything that happened. The heart rate monitor started to beep faster as you thought about your dad and the rest of your friends. Your breathing got heavier, as you started to shake your tingling hands.

Your mom went out to grab a nurse, who rushed in to check on you.

“Let’s give you something to help you calm down,” she said, pulling out a syringe. She injected medication into your IV as you tried to take deep breaths in comparison to the shallow ones you kept sucking in.

“What’s going on?” your mom asked, as the nurse turned to look at her.

“She’s having a panic attack. It’s normal after trauma like what she went through,” she said, before turning to you, “Would you like some water?”

You nodded, as she stepped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with your water and one of the doctors.

“We’re going to suggest lots of therapy,” the doctor said, as she looked over at your dazed expression from the meds. “Physical and mental. It’s going to be a long road, just be patient with her.”

“I’m going to take her back to New York with me. If you have any recommendations for doctors out there, I’d appreciate it,” Your mom said, as the doctor nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

As you sipped the water, it started to soothe your dry, irritated throat. After the doctor walked back in with the list of doctors in New York, you tried to speak.

“Tara?” you got out, as your mom smiled.

“She’s okay. Sam is too.”

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re okay. Chad was a little touch and go at first, too. He’s in the next room over,” she said, as you started to smile.

You were devastated about your dad and Wes but knowing that most of your friends survived gave you an ounce of hope that everything would be okay.

Once you’d healed enough to leave the hospital, you had a tearful goodbye with everyone as you prepared to go to New York.

“I hope you were serious about Blackmore…we all kind of applied,” Tara said, as Mindy nodded.

“Seriously? That would be so cool,” you said, smiling. “I’d love to have you guys close by.”

Your mom stood by and watched as Sam walked up to talk to her.

“I know Tara will most likely get in, she’s a smart one,” Sam said, with a small laugh. “If you can think of any safe areas for us to live, let me know.”

“You’d be coming with her?” your mom asked, as Sam nodded.

“I’m never letting her out of my sight,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, with Dewey. If it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the attack at the hospital.”

“Thank you…I’m just sad he won’t get to see all the great things I know she’s going to do with her life.”

After a few months of living in New York, you started to get adjusted. You had physical therapy three times a week and had to see your psychiatrist at least once a week, but you felt like you were starting to find yourself again, aside from struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Your mom’s boyfriend, Brooks, was even starting to piss you off a little less. You’d had several conversations with him about your dad, and he was trying to step up. He didn’t want to take your dad’s place by any means, but he was trying so hard to be a trusted male figure in your life, aside from Chad, who was still on the opposite side of the country.

On your eighteenth birthday, Tara FaceTimed you. You were smiling so big when you saw all of your friends, their own version of a surprise party making your heart swell. That’s the day they told you they all got into Blackmore, and you started to count down the days.

“Mom, don’t you think I should get the full college experience?” you sighed, as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not staying in a dorm, and that’s final,” she said, as you glanced over to Brooks.

“I can’t help you with this one. You know your mom has her mind made up,” he said, as he leaned against the kitchen island.

“Whatever,” you huffed, walking towards your room.

Your mom and Brooks just looked at each other as she sighed in defeat.

“She might be annoyed with you right now, but she’ll get over it,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

“I hope so, I’m getting sick of all the teen angst,” she said, laughing a little.

“How’s her therapy been?”

“She said it’s going well. They’ve really been unpacking the Amber stuff…I just hope she’s able to trust someone again someday.”

“She will.”

Once your friends made it to New York, your mom let you go out and explore the city for the first time without her. She was nervous, regularly checking her phone just to make sure you were okay. She knew your therapy sessions were helping, but you still had your panic attacks and your body wasn’t the strongest yet.

As you walked along the sidewalk with your friends, Chad noticed a comic book store a little further up the street.

“Can we check that out?” he asked, as you nodded.

“This is the same dorky shit you did in Woodsboro. Don’t you want to do something else?” Mindy asked, as her brother scoffed.

“Nope. I’ve already gone into three different clothing stores with you guys AND found my perfect foundation match while you guys were shopping for makeup. You owe me,” he said, making you and Tara laugh.

“Fine, let’s go,” Tara said, before turning to look at you. “Let me know whenever you need to sit down, okay?”

“I will. Let’s get food after this. I can rest while we eat,” you said, as Tara nodded.

When you walked inside, you all went your separate ways as you started to browse around the store. Chad was in heaven, while everyone else was just there to kill the time. As you were walking along one of the rows, you started to get one of your reoccurring abdominal cramps from where you were stabbed. You leaned over, holding your stomach as you tried to breathe through it.

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a male voice speaking to you, as you groaned out a “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said softly, as he squatted to talk to you. “Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”

“I promise I’m okay. Just a bad cramp.”

You soon heard Tara mumble “Oh shit” as she and Mindy ran up to you.

“What happened?” Mindy asked, looking over to the boy.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I just saw her doubled over like this.”

The pain started to ease up, as you tried to stand back up.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” you sighed, as your eyes connected to the person that was trying to help you.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking you over. You couldn’t form words after you saw him. He was your type, and his sweet, shy demeanor was just a plus. Mindy and Tara noticed you checking him out as he kept staring at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Hey,” you finally spoke, as Tara and Mindy inched away from you so you could talk to him. “Thanks for trying to help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, as he started to flip through some of the comic books. “Do you go to Blackmore?”

“I’m about to,” you said, as he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re a freshman, too?”

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I have all my hometown friends with me, so I know it’ll be fun,” you said, as you started to point them out.

“Chad? That’s what my roommate’s name is,” he said, looking towards him. “Wait, that’s him!”

“Oh, small world,” you said, “Hey, Chad!”

He turned around, smiling when he noticed his new roommate standing there.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were into stuff like this!” Chad said, as he walked up.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a dork, I guess,” Ethan laughed, as they started to geek out over stuff they’d found.

“How do you two know each other?” Chad asked curiously, as Ethan smiled.

“I just met her. She seems cool,” he said, “Have you guys been friends for a long time?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. We grew up in this crazy, fucked up little town,” Chad said, as your eyes got wide.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, trying to play it off as Chad looked at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, Woodsboro was a walk in the park,” Chad said sarcastically, as you tried to change the subject.

“Can we go get food soon? I’m starving,” you said, as Chad nodded.

“Sure. Ethan, you want to go to lunch with us?”

“I wish I could, but I have to run by the book store. Maybe some other time, but I’ll see you later,” he said to Chad, before smiling at you. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“I hope so,” you said, your tone flirty as Chad looked between the two of you.

Ethan walked up to the counter to pay for his stuff, as Chad turned to you.

“What was that all about?” he asked, as you jokingly glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot roommate?!”

After that day, Chad made it his personal mission to get to know Ethan as well as he could, because he didn’t want you to go through another traumatic relationship. Once he realized that Ethan truly was this shy, dorky guy, he started to bring him around the friend group. The two of you immediately hit it off, and he loved to spend time with you.

Once the relationship started to get a little more serious, he began asking about Woodsboro. After that day at the comic book store, he did his research, but he still had so many questions. He knew you were hurt in some way, because of all the appointments you had, and the random sharp cramps you’d get from time to time. He noticed that you’d always try to push through pain, and he just wanted to have a better understanding of everything.

The last thing you wanted to do was think about what’d happened the year before, let alone talk about it. You had several insecurities about yourself, the scars all over your abdomen being one of the major ones. But you hated feeling weak. You hated that you were struggling to keep up with the high energy your friends and boyfriend had. You hated feeling like you just slowed everyone down.

Ethan didn’t care, though. He was always comforting and okay with taking breaks, or even cutting a date night short if you started to get anxious. He knew he loved you, but he was too shy to say it. He didn’t want to pour his heart out and you say it’s something you weren’t ready for yet.

Your mom was a little skeptical of Ethan. It wasn’t that he’d given her a reason to be, she just wanted you to always be cautious, especially after your last relationship. It got to the point where you’d have to sneak Ethan over whenever your mom and Brooks weren’t home.

“Hey, baby,” Ethan said, as you opened the front door.

“Hi,” you smiled, as he leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s go to my room.”

What was supposed to be the two of you just hanging out led to him on top of you on your bed, your hands in his hair as he kissed you. Your shirt was starting to inch up, his hand roaming over your stomach when you pushed him away.

“Stop,” you said, once you noticed him leaning back down to kiss you again.

“What did I do?” he asked, as you scooted away from him. “Baby, I don’t want to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want you touching me like that,” you said, your eyes not meeting his as he tried to understand.

“You’re my girlfriend…this is what people in relationships do,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “If you’re not ready for sex, that’s fine. I just don’t get what the big deal is with me touching you. You never talk to me about it.”

“I think you should go,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, standing up. “You just keep shutting down whenever there’s something we need to talk about. You’re so secretive about what you’ve been through. I feel like I barely know anything about you.”

“Are you saying you want to break up?” you asked, your eyes watering as he shook his head.

“No, babe. I care about you so much…but you don’t trust me. I know something horrible happened to you in Woodsboro, and all I want is to be the supportive boyfriend that you deserve, but I can’t be that for you when you won’t talk to me. I’ve even tried to ask Chad, just so I understand, but he’ll only talk about what happened to him.”

“So, you’ve been trying to get stuff out of Chad because I won’t tell you about it?” you questioned, the pissed expression on your face making him tense up. “I’m not ready to talk to you!”

“Call me when you are,” he said, walking towards your bedroom door.

You felt a panic attack creeping up the second he walked out. You grabbed your anxiety medication and took a pill out, hoping that it would kick in soon. Your hands were shaky as you tried to take it, the water you were trying to drink spilling all over your shirt.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your breathing heavy as you jumped up to grab another shirt to change into.

The second you got the wet one off, Ethan walked back in the room.

“I forgot my phone,” he mumbled, before he saw you. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scars all over your abdomen, feeling sick to his stomach that someone could ever do something like that to you. “Baby…”

“Get the fuck out!” you screamed, as he scrambled to grab his phone off your bedside table. “Now, Ethan! Go!”

You quickly pulled the dry shirt over your head, as he glanced back over to you once more. You were sobbing as he tried to step closer, wanting to comfort you.

“Don’t come near me, Ethan! Go!” you yelled again, as he hesitantly turned around and walked out.

You followed him to the front door, slamming it behind him. You put your back against the door before sliding down it, as you pulled your knees to your chest as you cried.

When your mom got home later in the day to take you to your psychiatrist, you didn’t feel like going. You were still upset from the situation with Ethan earlier in the day, so once she started to argue with you that you needed to go, it got explosive.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been making such good progress!” your mom yelled, as you started to pace the floor.

“What’s wrong with me?! I was almost killed, mom! I have these fucking scars all over me that remind me of what I went through every fucking day!” you screamed, as tears started to run down your cheeks. “I have a great boyfriend, someone who really cares about me, and I can’t fucking trust him because of what Amber did to me! Then, he saw my scars earlier and looked at me like I was a fucking victim and I’m sick of feeling that way!”

“Wait, how did he see your scars? What have you been doing when I’m not here?” she questioned, as you stopped your pacing.

“That’s what you took from all that I just said?!” You asked, as Brooks walked in. “I’m not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to, though! I want to be able to trust Ethan enough to do that, but I’m too fucked up for that to happen!”

Your mom just looked at you as Brooks tried to calm you down.

“Hey, I know this is none of my business, and I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong…but have you talked to your therapist about Ethan?”

“Not really. He’s only come up a few times,” you sighed, wiping your tears. “I was hoping I could work through things with him on my own, but I still haven’t told him anything that happened. He’s trying so hard, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“That kid really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about the best way to open up to him,” he said, as you nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like everyone that comes in your life is going to do what Amber did to you.”

Your mom smiled at the interaction, loving how close you were getting to him. His calm demeanor helped so much in diffusing your anxiety.

“Can we still make it to my appointment in time? Or is it too late?” you asked your mom, as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

“We can still make it, we need to leave right now, though.”

“You two get out of here, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back,” Brooks said, pulling you into a side hug as he walked you towards the door.

During your appointment, your doctor recommended that you take a week off from school, just to focus on your mental health. Your professors were very understanding, you just hoped your boyfriend would be, too. You needed to clear your head as you tried to think of the best way to unpack all the trauma with him. You decided to leave your phone off, only turning it on every now and then to let Tara know you were okay.

Ethan was freaking out. When all his calls went straight to voicemail, and you stopped coming to school, he started to think the worst. He knew that you were upset with him, and he felt awful that him seeing you without a shirt affected you as much as he did. Regardless of the scars, he still thought you were beautiful. He finally brought it up to the rest of the friend group and was relieved when Tara said that you were okay.

That’s when he thought about doing something sweet for you. He wanted you to feel better, and he desperately wanted you to forgive him. He went to the mall with Chad, wanting to find some of your favorite things to bring to you.

“What about this?” Chad said, as he walked with Ethan through the party store. Ethan wanted to find you the sweetest card to go with the things he’d bought you, but Chad had other ideas when he pointed to a huge balloon. Ethan rolled his eyes as he looked over to Chad. “What? I don’t think anything says ‘I love you’ like a massive balloon that literally says ‘I love you’.”

“Dude, I don’t want this to be cheesy. I want her to know how I feel without making her cringe,” Ethan said, “Do you think she’ll even answer the door when I try to take this stuff to her?”

“I can’t say for sure. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week.”

“At lease she talks to Tara, so we know she’s alright.”

Ethan was nervous as he walked into the elevator and selected the floor that your mom’s condo was on. He knew your mom and her boyfriend’s work schedule from the times you’d invited him over, so he knew you should be home alone, if you’d even open the door for him.

He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before knocking. After a few minutes of you not answering, he sat the stuff outside of the door, hoping you’d want to talk after you eventually saw it. He went back to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting for it to come back to the floor he was currently on.

Once the door opened, he saw you standing there.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?” you asked, as he stepped to the side for you to walk off the elevator.

“Oh, uh, I just dropped some stuff off for you. It’s in front of the door,” he said shyly, as you smiled at him.

“That’s really sweet, Ethan. I was actually going to call you and ask if you wanted to come over. I just left therapy, and I’m in a good head space right now. I think I’m ready to talk,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s a little heavy, and I might not go too far into detail, but I want you to know some of what I went through.”

“I’m here to listen,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand as you walked towards the door.

“Aww, this is so cute!” you squealed, looking down at the basket before you unlocked the door. You were about to bend down to grab it before he beat you to it. “Thanks, babe.”

You walked with him to your room, noticing the card. You grabbed it out of the basket as soon as he sat it down, but he took it from you before you could open it.

“Hey!” you laughed, trying to take it back from him.

“This card has some things in it that are important, but not as important as you telling me what you need to tell me,” he said, smiling as he sat it back in the basket. “You can read this after we talk, deal?”

“Deal,” you said, flopping back on your bed as he laid down beside you.

You both stared at the ceiling as he waited for you to start talking, but you didn’t know where you wanted to start. You were almost scared of what he’d think after you told him everything, but you knew in your heart that he’d still care about you regardless.

“So…I know I told you about my dad dying. He was killed last year when my ex and the guy she was cheating on me with went on a killing spree,” you said, as he sat up on his elbows to look at you as you spoke. “She killed my dad after she stabbed me. Her boyfriend really did the most damage to me though. I’ve been really self-conscious about all the scars I have. That’s why I stop you whenever things start to get a little handsy.”

He stayed silent for a minute, just soaking in all the information you’d told him. He was furious that anyone would ever hurt you, but he was hiding it well.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been a little hesitant to trust me,” he sighed, looking back at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really thought you were done with me after you yelled at me like that and didn’t want to talk to me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I just wanted to get my feelings and my thoughts together. I knew I needed to open up to you, especially after you saw everything.”

“I just wanted to understand, you know? You’ve just been so vague about everything. I’m happy you’re opening up,” he said, laying back down. “I’m sorry if you ever felt pressure about the sex stuff, too. I promise you that’s not what I was trying to do, and I’d wait forever if I needed to.”

“I don’t think we need to wait forever,” you said, rolling over to your side to look at him. “I’m ready now, actually.”

He curiously looked at you, before he started to shake his head.

“Baby, I want you to fully trust me before we do anything like that.”

“I just gave you the short version of everything that caused my trauma. I trust you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed you back, the sweetness of it making your heart swell, like you knew he was the person you were meant to lose your virginity to. Once the kiss got more intense and your hand started to run under his shirt, he gently pushed your hand away.

“Wait, I need you to read the card,” he said, before you connected your lips to his again.

“Right now?” you asked, pulling away.

“Please. You’ll want to read it before we do this.”

You slid off the side of the bed and walked over to the basket and grabbed the card. Ethan wasn’t nervous at all as you sat down beside him and opened the envelope that contained his true feelings for you. He knew if you were ready for sex and felt comfortable enough to finally tell him about what you’d went through, that you probably felt the same way he did.

“This is really sweet,” you said, reading through everything he wrote. “Wait…”

You turned to look at him after you’d made it to the end of what he wrote, as he smiled at you.

“I love you, babe.”

“Seriously?” was all you said, your eyes starting to water as Ethan suddenly felt like maybe it was a little too soon for him to say it when you didn’t say it back.

“Yeah, it’s how I feel. If you aren’t ready for that-“

You cut him off my kissing him. “I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pushed you back on the bed as he smiled down at you.

“You are sure, like one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked, as his hand started to rub your thigh over your jeans.

“I’m positive. I want to do this with you.”

He leaned down to kiss you as his hands just kept rubbing against you. You didn’t feel self-conscious like you had before, and you were excited to share this experience with someone that loved you.

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off of you?” he asked, waiting for you to consent before he did it. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.

You paused and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The second your shirt was over your head, you noticed Ethan’s gaze on all your scars. You tried to cover them with your hands before he pulled them away.

“Stop, baby. You’re beautiful,” he said, running his hands across them.

He leaned down to start kissing your neck, his curls tickling you as you started to giggle.

“Am I absolutely awful at this or something?” he asked, as your fingers started to run through his hair.

“No babe, you’re tickling me, but it feels good,” you said, squirming a little underneath him once he found your sweet spot. “It really feels good.” He smirked against you as you started to let out heavy breaths. “I think your shirt should come off, too.”

He pulled away to take his shirt off before he leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands started to run along his back as he melted into your touch.

You leaned up a little as you felt his hands try to snake around you to unhook your bra. He fumbled with it for a minute, making you laugh into the kiss.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said, jokingly glaring at you as you smiled at him. He finally got it unhooked, sliding the straps down your arms as he pulled it off you. “Are you going to laugh at me the whole time?”

“No, babe,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hold in your giggles. You didn’t have to for long though, your mouth falling open as you gasped when he took one of your nipples into your mouth. He alternated between licking and sucking, before he moved to the other side. “That feels so good.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, “If you want to stop at any point, let me know. I’m not going to get mad, I just want you to be okay.”

“Thank you, baby. I know you won’t hurt me,” you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair as his eyes fluttered at the feeling.

He leaned down again with your fingers still tangled in his hair, as he started to place kisses along your stomach. He paid extra attention to your scars, now knowing the dark story of how you got them. You looked down at him as he started to unbutton your jeans.

“I love you, baby.” He said, as he started to pull them down your hips. “Your body is so beautiful. Please don’t ever think that it’s not, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed, as his hands started to run up your bare thighs.

“Can these come off?” he asked, rubbing your panties along your hips.

“Yes,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You know I have no idea what I’m doing, so please let me know if anything I do hurts.”

“Ethan,” you sighed, as his eyes connected with yours. “Just do what you think feels right, and I’ll let you know how it feels.”

“Okay, baby,” he said, as his hand ran up your inner thigh, and over your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling, as he kept rubbing you. “Can I taste you, babe?”

“Please,” you said, as he leaned in. His tongue gently licked your clit, as your hand started to run through your hair. “That feels…fuck.”

His mouth started to move faster when your moans got a little louder, loving all the sounds he was pulling from you. His cock was straining against his jeans, but that was the last thing he wanted to focus on. He just wanted to keep making you feel good.

“Can you use your fingers, too?” you asked, your chest heaving as his finger started to brush against your entrance. You gasped when he slid it inside of you, pumping it in and out.

He pulled his mouth away to watch you, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You whimpered at his words as his fingers started to curve a little. “Oh shit,” you whined, as he slowed his fingers.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to ready your face, scared that he’d hurt you.

“That felt good, keep doing that,” you said, gasping as his finger moved quicker. “You can use two.”

He added another finger and moved them against that spot as he leaned down to focus on your clit with his mouth.

“Fuck, a little faster, baby,” you moaned, feeling that coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter.

He did as you said, before he switched from licking your clit to sucking on it.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, your legs starting to jolt. He gasped as your pussy started to contract around his fingers. He didn’t want to stop his actions too quickly, so he just kept going until you started to pull away. You were letting out shaky breaths as he sat up to look at you, the blissful expression on your face making him smile.

“Did that feel good?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded with your eyes closed.

“That was perfect, babe.”

He curled up on the bed beside you, caressing everywhere he could reach as he waited for you to tell him it was okay to go further. He noticed the gasp that slipped past your lips when his hand ran over one of your breasts, so he started to massage it.

“Baby, I’m not trying to rush you, but my mom will be home soon,” you said, smiling at him. “I really don’t want this to get interrupted.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, sliding off the side of the bed to take his jeans off. You giggled at him as he smiled at you. “Sorry, I’ve been hard for so long.”

“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re so excited,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m excited to experience this with the person that means the world to me,” he said, as he grabbed a condom out of his wallet before he slid his boxers down. He was mumbling something to you, but you couldn’t focus as you stared at him, starting to get a little anxious. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, as you shook your head. “I was just reminding you that if it’s too much, let me know.”

As he stood in front of you, you started to question if it would be too much. He opened the condom and rolled it on before he crawled back on the bed to hover over you.

“Can you go slow?” you asked, as he lined up with your entrance.

“Of course, baby. As slow as you want,” he assured you, as he started to push himself inside of you. He noticed you wincing at the pain, and even tensing up a little. He stilled, looking over your face. “Try to relax, baby.”

He didn’t move, he just waited for you to give him the okay. He leaned down to kiss you, as the pain started to ease.

“Keep going,” you said, as he slid in a little further. You tensed up again, so he just kept kissing you. He wanted you to know that this wasn’t just about him enjoying the experience. He wanted to take care of you. It was starting to get to the point where the pressure of him stretching you started to feel really good. “Can you move?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Uh, I’m almost all the way in…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, as your lust-filled eyes looked into his.

“It’s not really hurting anymore,” you said, as he started to smile. He slid the rest of himself inside of you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. His hips slowly started to move as he looked down at you. He was internally screaming but was trying to play it as cool as you were. “Can you go a little faster?”

“Yes,” he said, but it really came out as a whimper as he started to move a little faster. You were just so warm and tight. It was better than he ever thought it would be. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” you moaned, as the tip of his cock started to hit the spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, Ethan,” you whimpered, as your hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whined out, as he started to go even faster. He didn’t know if it was going to be too much for you to handle, but the way you started to moan helped ease the anxiety he had about it.

“I love you, too,” you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm creeping up.

He started to get even more confident, angling your legs so he was able to go a little deeper. Your hands held on to his biceps as he looked down at you. He was trying so hard not cum, but the expressions on your face and the sounds you were making made it a lot harder for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, as he sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to hold back much longer. He groaned out the second your walls started to tighten around him, your hands shaking as the grip you had on his arms got tighter. He got you though it, speeding up a little as he chased his own orgasm.

His thrusts started to falter as his mouth fell open and his eyes began to flutter. You watched him though your post-orgasm haze, smiling as he opened his eyes to look at you. His chest was heaving, a goofy smile on his lips.

“That was a million times better than my hand,” he joked, making you laugh.

“It better be,” you said playfully, as you heard the front door open. “Shit.”

You and Ethan both jumped off your bed, your legs wobbly as you tried to find your clothes. You slid your panties back on as Ethan got his boxers and jeans back on. The second you got your shirt over your head, your bedroom door opened.

“Hey, there’s some people out here to see you,” your mom said, looking down at her phone as she walked into your room.

“Uh, mom,” you said, as she looked up at you.

“What the fuck is going on here?” she asked, noticing you without pants, Ethan shirtless, and the condom wrapper on your bedside table.

“Can we talk about this in a minute?” you asked, desperate for her to leave the room so you could finish getting dressed.

She huffed as she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once you got your jeans back on, you heard your mom yell “I’ll kill him,” as Ethan looked over to you, terrified. You giggled as he slid his shirt over his head.

“It’s okay, babe. Hopefully Brooks will back me up,” you joked, as the both of you walked towards the door.

Your mom walking in was embarrassing enough, but when you walked out to see all the friends you hadn’t seen for a week sitting on the couch curiously looking at you and Ethan, your cheeks started to turn red.

“Oh, uh, hey guys. What are you doing here?” you asked, as Mindy pointed to the take-out bags on the kitchen island.

“Yeah, we wanted to surprise you and bring you food,” Chad said, before directing hit attention to Ethan. “I tried to text you a few times to invite you to come with us, but I understand why you didn’t respond.”

Ethan awkwardly laughed, before he noticed your mom glaring at him from the kitchen.

“Babe,” Brooks said, walking up beside her. “It’s okay.”

“You think me coming home to see my daughter and her boyfriend trying to put their clothes back on is okay?”

Mindy was trying to hold in her laughter, Chad was, too.

“Can’t we all just be happy that I trust Ethan, and finally told him everything?” you said, trying to play it off as a joke as your mom rolled her eyes.

“That’s a good point,” Brooks said, “That’s something she wasn’t able to do before.”

“Are you just going to back her up on everything?” your mom sighed, looking up at him.

“I just want you to see the positives,” he said, before gesturing over to Ethan. “He’s a good kid. He cares about her.”

 “I really do,” Ethan said, finally speaking up.

“See? I know you’re still going to worry about her, but let her be happy,” Brooks said, as your mom started to walk over to you.

“You are going on birth control. And you,” she said, turning to Ethan, “If you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Ethan said, as she stared him down.

“You better not. Let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”