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snowysosturn · 3 months ago

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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 11

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 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, tension, arguments, mention of physical fight, toxic boyfriend

Matt’s POV

The drive back to my place was suffocating. I could feel the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. Emily was yapping away next to me, about all the sights she wanted to see in Barcelona. Alex sat in the back, his face stern as he stared out the window, lost in thought. Every now and then, I caught him shifting in his seat, hoping it was unease from regret, but he didn’t say anything about it. I could tell he was still pissed, probably still replaying the argument with Y/n in his head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Her voice, filled with pain, had left me feeling some sense of guilt. I knew he was like this but still didn’t reach out to her at all over the last 4 weeks.

As we pulled into the garage, I noticed the lights were still on inside. Nick and Chris were probably still awake, maybe waiting up for us. I wasn’t sure how this night was going to end, but the air felt thick with unspoken words. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and break the tension, tension that only I was feeling. We walked into the house, and Nick was the first to greet us. He barely glanced at me before muttering a quick “Hey” and disappearing upstairs to his room. I knew he was still pissed about our argument earlier, and I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t handled it well. Nick was protective, and when he believed something was wrong, he was like a dog with a bone. I could feel the rift between us.

Chris, on the other hand, was his usual laid back self. He came over, giving Alex a quick nod. “Hey, man. You can crash in my room tonight,” he said, sounding genuine. “I’ll stay in with Nick.”

“Thanks” Alex mumbled, managing a half hearted smile.

“No problem.” Chris gave me a look before heading down the hall to grab his things. I wasn’t sure if he knew what was going on, but his presence was comforting in its own way.

Once Chris was gone, the three of us settled in the living room. We ordered takeout and picked a random movie on Netflix to watch, though I doubt any of us were really paying attention. Emily was curled up next to me, her head resting on my shoulder, but I couldn’t focus on the warmth of her touch. My mind kept drifting back to the argument I had overheard, the way her voice had cracked when she told him how much she had done for him.

Hours passed, and eventually, Emily yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “Think I’m gonna head to bed, we’re up early.” she said softly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Alright” I replied, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be in in a bit.”

She nodded, giving Alex a sleepy smile before disappearing down the hallway to my room. As soon as she was out of sight, I turned to Alex, trying to gauge his mood.

“I’ll show you Chris’ room” I said, standing up. I wanted to talk to him but not here, not with Emily so close by. I needed answers, and I needed to understand what was going on with him and Y/n. The way she sounded earlier, it was like she was at her breaking point.

Alex followed me down the stairs to Chris’ room, his footsteps heavy. The room was a little messy, with clothes scattered here and there, but being honest, Alex didn’t deserve anything more. I closed the door behind us, taking a moment to compose myself before turning to face him.

“So how’s Y/n?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. The question hung between us, emotionally charged with everything I wasn’t saying.

Alex snorted, shaking his head dismissively. “She’s.. whatever, man. She’s just being dramatic at the minute. I mean, I get it, she’s pissed off because I’m not spending every waking moment with her, but come on. It’s not like I’m out partying all the time or anything.”

Yeah because you can’t.

“Is she not looking after you in every sense the last few weeks? Do you not think she deserves to be appreciated?” I bit back.

Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, here we go. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Y/n likes to take care of things, she’s always been like that. It’s not like I asked her to do all that.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I could feel my fists clenching at my sides. The way he talked about her, like she was just some annoyance, made my blood boil. “You seriously think that just because you didn’t ask, it means you can take her for granted? She’s doing it because she cares about you, Alex, and you’re treating her like she’s disposable. You can’t just brush her off like she’s nothing.”

Alex rolled his eyes, clearly not getting it. “Dude, it’s not like that. She just doesn’t get what it’s like, being on the team, having this pressure. It’s not like she’s doing anything important, she doesn’t even go to college. She’s got all this free time, so yeah, she can help me out.”

Yeah she doesn’t even go to college but is still doing your shitty work for you.

“She’s doing it because she cares about you. The least you could do is show a little appreciation. Instead, you’re acting like she’s a burden.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Y/n’s fine. She’s not going anywhere. She knows I’m busy. It’s not like she expects me to drop everything for her.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. She’s not going anywhere. I now know he acts like this because he thinks she’ll never leave. If i could have my way right now, this would be Alex’s second physical fight since I’ve known him. I was so lost in my anger, that no words came out.

“She’s not some fragile little thing.” Alex shot back, a defensive edge to his voice. “She knows how it is. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. I can’t do everything she wants at the drop of a hat.”

“You’re missing the point,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s about being there for her. About showing her that she matters to you. Right now, you’re not doing that.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at me, clearly irritated. “And why do you care so much about what happens between me and Y/n? It’s none of your business, she’s my girlfriend not yours.”

Fuck why do I care so much? Why am I defending her like this to him, we haven’t even spoken in 4 weeks. How do I cover this?

“I care because she’s Emily’s friend.” I lied, hoping it would cover up the intensity of my emotions. Fuck was that the best excuse I could come up with?

“And if Emily knew how you’ve been treating Y/n, she wouldn’t be happy about it. You know that.”

Alex snorted, shaking his head. “Emily’s friend, huh? Is that all this is?”

“Yeah, that’s all it is,” I replied, my jaw tight. I had to tread carefully here. “Emily would be upset if she knew you were blowing Y/n off like this. I care about Emily. You care about Emily. Let’s not upset Emily. Oh my god I’m digging a hole right now… Say something else dumbass.

“I’m just trying to make sure things don’t get worse between you two, you know, keep the friendship group alive.”

Just stop fucking speaking.

Alex’s smirk faded, but he still didn’t look like he was taking any of this seriously. “Look, I’ll talk to Y/n, alright? I’ll smooth things over. She’ll get over it. She always does.”

“Just.. think about what I said, alright?” I muttered, taking a step back. “Before you fuck things up beyond repair.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the tension between us hitting off every wall in the room. I could see the clogs turning in Alex’s head, but instead of admitting he was wrong, he just scoffed again and turned away

“Whatever, man. I’m tired. Let’s just drop it.”

I wanted to keep going, to make him see how much he was hurting Y/n, but I knew it would be pointless. Alex wasn’t ready to hear it, and pushing him further would only make things worse.

“Fine” I muttered, stepping back. “Get some sleep.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of frustration and guilt. I knew Y/n deserved better, but I was powerless to do anything about it. The door creaked slightly as I opened it, and the sound seemed to echo in the quiet room.

Before I could leave, Alex called after me, his voice low and almost reluctant. “Matt.. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But Y/n and I, we’ll work it out. We always do.”

I paused in the doorway, my back to him. Part of me wanted to believe him, to trust that they could fix whatever was broken between them. But another part of me, the part that had seen Y/n’s tear streaked face, couldn’t shake the feeling that things were already too far gone.

“Just don’t take her for granted,” I said finally, not turning around. “She deserves better than that.”

With that, I left the room, the weight of our conversation heavy on my shoulders. Maybe I shouldn’t of said anything, this might get me in trouble. As I climbed back up the stairs, trying to shake off the conversation, I heard quick footsteps echoing down the hallway. Nick was running down the stairs from his room, clearly in a rush.

“Where are you going?” I asked, stopping in my tracks as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Nick glanced at me, slightly out of breath. “I’m heading over to Y/n’s place. I’m gonna crash there tonight.”

I felt a hit of something..jealousy? worry?..stab at my chest. “Wait, what? Why?”

Nick shrugged, but there was something more behind his casual demeanor. “Just thought I’d check in on her, you know? With everything going on… I figured she could use some company. And honestly, I don’t really feel like staying here tonight.”

His words were like a jab, a reminder of the tension that had been hanging over all of us since earlier. “You don’t think it’s a little... weird? Just showing up at her place?” As if it’s not something I haven’t done before.

Nick gave me a knowing look, one that made my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Weird? Why would it be weird? She’s a friend, Matt. And I think she could use one right now. And besides, we’ve been texting, she knows I’m coming over, she ordered the Uber.”

He wasn’t wrong. After what I’d just heard from Alex, it was clear Y/n needed someone. I just didn’t know how I felt about that someone being Nick. How bad I desperately wanted it to be me.

“You think she’s okay?” I asked, my voice quieter now, remembering Emily is in the next room.

Nick’s expression softened, now bringing his voice to a whisper. “Honestly? I don’t know. She’s been dealing with a lot, and I don’t think Alex is really helping. I just wanna be there for her. Maybe cheer her up, get her mind off things.”

I leaned against the wall, trying to sort through the mess of emotions in my head. “What do you think’s going on with her and Alex?” As if I didn’t already know everything.

Nick hesitated, his gaze shifting slightly. “It’s not really my place to say. But from what I’ve seen, it’s not good. He’s been treating her like she’s some kind of accessory, like she’s just there to make his life easier.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, thinking back to the argument I’d just had with Alex. “He’s a total asshole.”

Nick nodded, his face serious. “Exactly. And that’s why I’m going over there. Someone needs to remind her she’s worth more than that.”

I couldn’t help but feel a sting of guilt. Here I was, tangled up in my own feelings, while Nick was stepping up to be the friend Y/n needed. “You really care about her, huh?”

Nick looked at me, his eyes earnest. “Of course I do. She’s cool, she’s fun to be around, and she’s dealing with all this shit right now. Someone’s gotta be there for her, and I’m not gonna let her go through it alone.”

There was something in the way he said it that made me pause. I realized then that Nick wasn’t just doing this out of obligation or pity, he genuinely cared about Y/n, maybe more than I’d given him credit for.

He started to walk away, but I called out after him, “Nick, wait.”

He turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I hesitated, then sighed. “Just.. take care of her, okay? I know she doesn’t show it, but she’s probably hurting more than shes letting on.”

Nick’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I will. Don’t worry.”

With that, he turned and headed for the door, leaving me standing there, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside me. I watched as he left, feeling a strange mix of relief and unease.

I walked into my room, Emily fast asleep in the middle of my bed. I tapped her ever so slightly so she would turn over onto her side, so I could get in beside her. The events of tonight replayed over in my head. It was all becoming too much.

Maybe Alex and Emily leaving the country for the next few days is a good thing..

a/n : everyone is still fightinggggg, atleast Emily and Alex are disappearing (kinda) for a bit in the next chapter..

edit: rereading this back as a chapter idk if im the happiest with it but it’ll all make sense as we go along

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties

#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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celiastjamesoscar · 1 year ago

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Say Yes to Heaven

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: It was never Sam’s intention to fall in love with you, but after countless nights tangled up in sheets together, she fell for you. But her love came with consequences, and she knew she could never provide you with the life you needed. So she broke up her arrangement with you, breaking your heart in the process as well.

Trope: friends with benefits

Warnings: mentions of smut at the beginning, angst, insecure and extremely soft Sam, cussing, Sam protecting reader from herself (Sam), self-destructive Sam, Billy slanders Sam

My Masterlist

AN: ‘Say Yes to Heaven’ heavily inspired this. In Lana we trust!

Word Count: 11.8K

With a heavy sigh and a small prayer, Sam clocked out of the cafe. It was nearing 11:30 at night, and she wanted to sleep and maybe do a few fun activities with you before that.

When Sam moved to New York, she was ready to put her past behind her and steer clear of relationships for a while, at least until she met you.

You were working on a project with Tara when Sam first met you, and she was immediately enthralled with you. Where Sam never smiled, you always wore a smile on your lips, and where Sam had dark, haunting eyes, yours lit up every room you walked in.

You and Sam were complete opposites, but you fit together like puzzle pieces. So, when Tara had invited you over for a late-night hangout with the group and got a few beers in the mix, you walked past the bathroom and heard Sam talking to herself.

“You okay?” You worriedly asked as you gently knocked on the half-opened door. Sam turned her head and gave you a weak smile, “Yeah, I’m okay.” But how her eyes refused to meet your own and her eyes seemed darker told you a different story.

So, you approached the woman and placed your hand on her tricep and gently rubbed up and down, trying your best to comfort the girl. “Just so you know, I’m here for you, Sam. I always will be,” you said with a smile.

She didn’t know why, but when Sam was with you, you always quieted her father’s voice, and when she pressed her lips against yours, his voice was completely gone.

The soft and eager kisses you shared in the bathroom were your first with her but certainly not your last. The gasps and muffled moans that escaped Sam’s lips were the closest you had ever been to magic, but you were quickly pulled back to reality when Sam pulled away and left you in the bathroom.

You continued the night as if nothing had happened between you and the older woman, but when you got up to go to the bathroom, Sam slipped a note in your hand as she returned to the living room from her bedroom. You nearly fainted when you read the beautiful penmanship that said, ‘My room at 2.’

When the time reached two, and thankfully, everyone else was asleep, you snuck off to Sam’s room and were instantly greeted by her soft lips assaulting your own. The soft moans you pulled from Sam sounded like angels singing, and when you tasted her, you knew you could never get enough. If God would allow it, you would live and die between Samantha Carpenter’s thighs, and it would be the best life you could possibly live.

And that’s how your arrangement came to be with the woman; two or three times a week, you would meet up and have sex but act like friends in public. You weren’t going to lie; it hurt you, but you wouldn’t complain as long as you had her.

Recalling your first time together, Sam smiled as she drove to her apartment and eagerly sent you a text asking you to come over once she got home. By the time she arrived at her place, she only had enough time to take a quick shower before you were eagerly knocking at her door.

The smile on your face was almost comical when Sam opened the door and quickly pulled you into a kiss. Your lips danced with hers as you stumbled into her room and locked the door. You gently pushed Sam down on the bed and peppered kisses along her jawline and neck. “Is Tara home?” You muttered between kisses on her neck. “No. Mindy’s,” Sam said heavily as her fingers started to scratch down your back.

“Good,” you replied before kissing Sam’s lips and removing her shirt.

You kissed down her chest and removed her bra before worshiping her breasts. Your lips left a trail of soft kisses and rough hickeys as they traveled from her neck to her sternum and down to her hips. Even though Sam was tough on the outside and pretended like she didn’t need to be taken care of, she was the softest with you.

The sex you had with Sam was the softest and most genuine you had ever had before, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The way Sam would intertwine your hands when you were buried between her thighs, eating her out like she was your last meal on earth was something that had your heart do flips, and when she pulled you up to her lips and gently cupped your cheeks before kissing you; you knew she liked it soft more than anything else.

You loved the beautiful pleas and moans that left Sam’s lips as you gently kissed and nipped at her thighs before focusing on where she needed you the most. And you groaned when you felt Sam’s hand fly into your hair and tug, roughly encouraging you to keep it up.

The aftercare was probably what you enjoyed the most; the way Sam wanted to be cuddled after her orgasm to remind herself that you wouldn’t leave her made you fall in love with her. You would provide her with water and maybe even some snacks while you prepared a bubble bath for you two to share, and Sam melted into your hold as she relaxed her back against your front, enjoying the hot water with you. When you would wash her hair and run your fingers through it, a few involuntary moans would escape Sam’s lips, and you would chuckle before placing a few chaste kisses on the hickeys that littered her neck.

“I love it when you do that,” you would mumble against her neck and Sam would slightly turn her head and press her lips to yours, silently telling you to keep it up.

There were rare moments throughout your life where you were sure about something, but you were confident that your purpose on this earth was to please and cater to Sam; you would live and die a happy life if that were all you did.

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The soft sound of labored breathing could be heard within Sam’s room. After countless hours of enjoying each other’s bodies, Sam lay naked on your bare chest. You traced gentle patterns on Sam’s back with your left hand while you held Sam’s hand with your other, and she kissed your collarbone before leaning up to look at you. “Can I tell you something?” She asked with honest eyes even though her tone seemed scared.

You didn’t know about Sam’s past, and she was grateful for that, even though she was positive you knew about the rumors circulating on the internet about her. But you never asked, and she felt that she owed you for that. Sam was comfortable with you, which terrified her; when she was comfortable, she was vulnerable, and Sam didn’t know if she could trust you. But when she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but love and understanding, she knew she could trust you with everything; her body, her heart, her soul, her past.

You placed a quick kiss on her lips before speaking in a quiet tone, “Of course, Sam; what is it?” With a sigh, Sam leaned her head on your chest and told you everything: how her actual father was Billy Loomis, how her adoptive father left, the Ghostface attacks, her drug addiction, her schizophrenia, and how she saw her dead father, everything.

Sam expected you to get up and leave or tell her that you wanted to break things off. Hell, she even expected you to scream at her and leave her too, but when she felt you place the softest kiss on her head and whisper, “You’re still my Sammy,” all her worries disappeared. She knew it wasn’t a part of your deal, but she slowly felt herself falling for you, and you also fell for her.

Sam leaned up from your chest and stared into your love-struck ones. “I don’t deserve you,” she choked out with a laugh as tears welled in her eyes. You shook your head and cupped Sam’s cheeks with your hands. “Don’t you ever say that, Sam. You deserve to be loved; you deserve to have someone in your life who cares for you and will do anything for you. You deserve to know what peace feels like,” you stated as you kissed her Cupid’s bow, “Samantha Carpenter, you deserve all of the love in the world.”

And when you spoke, Sam knew she was doomed to fall in love with you, but she also knew she was unloveable.

So, she did what she thought was best for you: she broke it off.

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“I think we should stop this,” Sam admitted one night while you were at her place. You two had the entire apartment to yourselves, and you had been tasting each other for hours. Sam lay on your chest when she spoke but leaned up and moved to hang her legs over the side of the bed as if she was getting ready to stand up. The statement caught you off guard, and you thought it was a joke.

“What? Why?” You asked with a dry laugh as you moved to your left side and gently reached out and rubbed Sam's naked back, but the girl flinched at your delicate touch. “Sam, what’s wrong?” Your heart dropped into your stomach when your lover flinched at your touch, something she had never done before.

“I just think we should stop this,” Sam replied while standing up and walking to her closet. She couldn’t face you while she did this; if it made her coward, so be it. If she saw the heartbreak on your face, she would never forgive herself.

You huffed before leaning up in bed and holding the blankets over your chest.

You admired Sam’s naked body as she picked through her clothes and threw on a loose t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Give me a reason,” you stated, clearly leaving no room for negotiation. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sam replied as she gathered your clothes and handed them to you.

With a scoff, you snatched your clothes from Sam and quickly threw them on. “I know you said that, but why? Why would you tell me that after I just fucked you?” You exclaimed with bewilderment in your voice. This wasn’t the Sam you knew, and you knew that something was bothering her.

Sam refused to meet your gaze and crossed her arms, something she only did when trying to isolate herself, “I just think it’s time we moved to different things.” A dry laugh left your lips as you sat down on the end of Sam’s bed. “Different things?’ Sam, you don’t spend six fucking months sleeping with someone and then just decide out of nowhere you don’t want to anymore!” You exclaimed.

“Yes, I can. It’s called having a change of heart. And besides, we both agreed to no strings attached,” Sam defended. You saw the tears in her eyes and how her voice broke when she spoke, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“Yes, but that was before…” You trailed off with a sigh, “That was before I fell in love with you. I love you, Sam.”

A single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as you spoke; she felt her heart rip into tiny pieces as she took in your confession. She wanted nothing more than to tell you that she loved you, yearned for your soft kisses and sweet words and that her life would mean nothing if she didn’t have you. But Sam knew that she could not provide you with a good life; her schizophrenia would drive you away, along with her haunting past of drug addiction and the Ghostface accusations. She believed she was helping you in the end, even though you couldn’t see it.

“Please, do not say that,” Sam quietly admitted as her lip quivered and another tear fell down her cheek, “Not now, Y/N. Please.”

You moved from the bed and gently gripped Sam’s wrists, and she finally made eye contact with your sullen eyes. “I know you feel it too, Sam. Please, I’m begging you, Give peace a chance, and let the fear you have fall away,” you pleaded with a weak voice as your vision blurred with tears, “Say yes to me.”

Sam knew that if she said yes to you, she’d be saying yes to heaven and all the wonders that included letting herself love you, but it would ruin your life.

With a shake of her head, Sam pulled back from you, “You don’t want me, Y/N. I’m too fucked up to give you the life you deserve, and I’m trying to protect you from that.”

“Fuck that! I want you, Sam. I need you,” you exclaimed as you felt your heart break even more and tears streamed down your face, “Tell me you want me too. I know you do. We do everything couples do, Sam. We go to dinner together, we share a bed, we kiss and have sex. Fuck, we even go on dates together, and I even bring you flowers!”

Sam wrapped her arms around you and gently kissed your forehead as you cried into her chest and gripped her back. “One day, I’ll find someone who isn’t the schizophrenic daughter of a famous serial killer, and they will give you the best fucking life you could possibly have, Y/N. Which is something I can’t give you,” Sam choked out as her tears started to freefall.

You pulled away from Sam’s chest, and your chest tightened when you saw how difficult this was for her. You knew she was only doing this to protect you, but you didn’t want her protection; you wanted her. You both wanted each other, but perhaps this was the best course of action.

With a small sniffle, you left Sam’s room and went to the front door to leave, but you sent Sam one last glance. Sam approached you and handed you your keys and phone. “You might need these,” Sam joked, but it wasn’t funny at all.

You swallowed any pride you had left and kissed her hard for a final time, and you nearly cried when she kissed you back and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you into her and feeling your soft skin against her own for the last time. “You don’t have to do this,” you muttered against her lips, but she pulled back from you and opened the door. “I know, but it’s for your own good,” Sam replied as you stepped out into the hallway.

That was the problem with Sam; she always did things to protect others from herself. She never allowed herself to enjoy things in life, and that even meant you. Sam’s own mother had told her that she was unloveable and she shouldn’t waste her time on relationships because no one would ever want her, so she didn’t want you to waste your time with someone like her. She wanted to allow herself to love, cherish, and kiss you; she longed to tell you that she loved you, but her past traumas prevented her from telling you, so she loved you from a distance.

So when you walked down the hallway and Sam closed the door to her apartment, you felt your heart close for good with it.

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The days after your split from Sam were blurs; you went to class, did your homework, and slept. You did this for weeks, and you never talked to anyone, too heartbroken to care. You missed your home; you missed your Sam. She was your world, your everything, and in the blink of an eye, you were stranded with nowhere to go.

You could go any you wanted, anywhere you wanted, just not home.

And that killed you. You had never felt heartbreak like this, and you were sure that you would never recover from it. Of course, you knew other people would come along, but no one would ever compare to Sam. You would do anything to have just one more night with her, but you knew it would never work as long as she refused to believe that she deserved happiness.

When you stumbled into your apartment around ten at night, you heard hushed voices in the living room, but you paid them no mind and went into your room.

You had kicked off our shoes when you heard a gentle knock at your door. “Go away,” you replied as you gathered clean clothes for a shower.

The door quickly flung open as Anika marched over to you and forcefully shoved you into your bed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She hissed as she stared you down, “You have been so goddamn moody this past month, and you don’t talk to anyone! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Anika,” you replied while standing up, but Anika refused to let you get by. “Nope, I don’t believe you. Tell me,” the girl commanded, but you had no mind to tell her what was wrong.

“I’m fine, seriously. School is just getting to me; that’s all,” you said with a fake smile, and Anika did not buy it for one second. But she knew you would talk about it on your own time, so with a sigh, she went to your bedroom door but stopped and faced you, “Just…Come out and talk with the group; they miss you.”

You didn’t have any time to ask Anika who the group was before she left your room and shut your door.

With a sigh, you went into your bathroom, took an excessively long shower, and only got out when no hot water was left. You slowly got dressed and sat on your bed for five minutes, debating if you really wanted to go and socialize, but you sucked it up and left your room.

When Sam saw you enter the living room, her heart cried out for you. Your once bright eyes had dark bags under them, and your cheeks looked hollow, as if you weren’t eating enough. And that beautiful smile you once had was nowhere to be seen; a fake one lived in its place. She knew this was her fault; she was just trying to protect you from her, but seeing you like this destroyed her.

Sam wouldn’t lie; breaking things off with you was the hardest thing she had ever done, and missing you was far worse. She missed you like the stars missed the sun in the morning sky, and she only wanted to have you back, but it was for the best. Not only did she have a lot of baggage, but she was a full six years older than you, and by the time you were her age, you would have already started your life with someone who had their shit together, not a dead-end job and no college degree.

You gave the group a fake smile as you sat in a lonesome chair in the corner of the room. The group consisted of Mindy, Anika, Chad, Tara, and Sam. The woman you loved was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, and you tried your best to keep a great distance between you and her without raising eyebrows.

“Alright, I’m just going to cut to the chase: What the fuck, Y/N? You disappear out of thin air on me, and you don’t return any of my calls,” Tara stated as she looked at you. She didn’t know what had happened between you and her sister, but she had her suspicions once she saw Sam with a hickey on her neck after you came over.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I really am. I have just been swamped with homework, and I’ve been studying for the MCAT,” you stated as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not expecting this integration from the more petite girl. It wasn’t a complete lie; the MCAT was murdering you, and you were solely running on coffee and Red Bull, but you weren’t in the mood to admit your love affair with Sam to your friends.

“Mhm,” Tara replied as she glared at you. She didn’t believe you at all and knew something else was bothering you, but she wasn’t going to question you about it in front of people, but she will do it when you two are alone. “So then, would you want to come to my place for a movie night this Sunday?”

You thought about the offer momentarily; you wanted to have a night with your friends, but you didn’t want to be around Sam. “Sure, what time?” You asked while sending a quick glance at Sam, and you noticed that her eyes hadn’t left you since you first walked into the room.

When your eyes locked, your hearts quickened and soon started to beat in sync, as if you two were soul-tied and the universe knew it. You saw how Sam’s dark eyes were darker than usual and how there were stress lines between her eyebrows, and you swore you could see the faintest of gray hair. A slight frown pulled at your lips when you finally realized how much Sam wanted you, but she told herself she couldn’t have you.

“Sometime around 7, if that’s alright with you,” Tara replied with a small smile, completely ignorant about your stare-down with her sister. “Sounds good. I shall be there,” you said.

A small groan left Mindy’s lips as she pushed herself off the couch, “Thank god you two got that sorted out; now it’s time to drink,” she stated as she walked into the kitchen area and pulled out two six-packs.

With a loud thump, Mindy sat them on the coffee table before you and the group, “Anyone thirsty?”

One drink turned into two, two turned into three, and then many more as the night continued. When the time rolled around to one in the morning, you were definitely drunk off your ass, but the alcohol helped numb the pain in your chest.

You were sitting on the couch next to Tara as you watched a comedy movie with the group due to Chad’s selection. “This is such a shitty movie,” Mindy whined while throwing her back to add more effect. A scoff came from Chad as he faced his sister, “‘Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan’ is an awesome movie, actually. You just don’t have taste.”

“That title is the reason this movie sucks,” Mindy replied but shut up once Anika laid her head in the twin’s lap.

You conversed with Tara while Chad watched the movie, and Mindy and Anika fell asleep on the couch together. Sam was sitting on a small chair next to you and Tara but made no effort to join your conversation.

“So, seriously, Y/N. How come you ghosted me?” Tara asked with a slight frown. She missed having you over every weekend even though you only stayed to be knuckles deep in her sister at some point throughout the night.

You fidgeted with your fingers while looking down at the floor, “I’ve just been…” you didn’t know the correct way to word this without throwing Sam under the bus, “I’ve been going through some stuff, and it sucks.”

The younger girl moved closer to you and gently took your hands into her own, “You’re my best friend, Y/N. You can tell me about anything that’s bothering you.”

“I know; it’s just not something I want to talk about. I hope you can understand,” you replied with a weak smile. You felt Sam’s guilt-ridden gaze on yours, and you couldn’t bear to look at her. ‘I’ve got my eye on you,’ Sam thought to herself as her worry grew with every second that passed.

“I understand,” Tara said as she gave your hands a caring squeeze before pulling them back and leaning against the back of the couch, “You know, Sam has also been going through something as well.”

When the words left Tara’s mouth, you instantly perked up, and your eyes locked with Sam’s guilt-ridden ones. “Tara, that’s not for you to share,” Sam remarked through gritted teeth as she stared at her sister. “I know, but maybe that’s something you two could talk about,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch and stuck an arm toward you and Sam.

You shared a quick glance with Sam and a silent conversation with her before you grudgingly took Tara’s hand and allowed the girl to pull you up from the couch. She did the same with Sam and led you two into your bedroom.

“Do not come back out until you two have talked about your problems,” Tara said with a knowing smile as she locked the door from the inside and left. “I can literally unlock the door,” you mumbled under your breath as you walked to the door and unlocked it.

You sighed as you turned around and faced Sam, and you almost frowned at how out of place she looked. The woman before you had been in your room countless times before, and she practically knew it like the back of her hand, but now, she was just as awkward as when you go over to someone’s house for the first time.

“You can make yourself at home, you know,” you said as you walked to your bed, took off your shoes, and sat down. You rested your back against the headboard and brought your feet onto the bed as Sam approached your bed. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” She quietly asked, and your heart cracked at how weak it was. The voice used to be full of love and certainty, but now it was only a ghost of itself.

“Sam, you’ve been naked in this bed before. Of course, you can join me,” you said with a small laugh before Sam copied your actions from before. When she got comfortable on your bed, you two sat in awkward silence as you stared forward, neither knowing what to say but wanting to say everything.

You looked over at Sam’s, and you noticed the frown on her lips as she battled with her thoughts. “I miss you,” Sam breathlessly admitted, “I know it’s fucked up and wrong of me to say this, but I really do miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sam,” you replied. A wry laughter Sam’s lips, and she choked out, “Some nights, I’ll wake up in an empty bed and think that you’re either in the bathroom or up talking to Tara, so I wait for you to get back. Only, you never show up.”

A small tear ran down your cheek, and your lip quivered as you tried to keep your composure. “I got so used to sleeping in your arms that most nights I cuddle with Squid to go to sleep,” you joked through a broken voice, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Squid was your cat sent straight from Hell who hated any affection but somehow loved Tara and only her. Probably because they were both small and evil, but you shrugged it off as both of them being like-minded. You looked at Sam and noticed her hiding her hands in her bomber jacket pockets, something she only did when she saw her father.

“You saw him again. Didn’t you?” You worriedly asked. You knew how Sam got when she saw Billy, and the only way to get her back to her normal self was to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let you do that after she destroyed your heart.

Sam didn’t respond to you, debating on whether she should tell you that CVS ran out of her antipsychotics a few days ago, and Billy was starting to get more persistent. “I’m fine; nothing new,” Sam replied while refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

Of course, you knew she was lying, but you would never pressure her into talking, and it was one of the many things she loved about you.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it,” you said as you reached over to Sam and gently placed your hand on her thigh, “I’m always here for you.”

Sam’s eyes shot to your hand, and heat instantly crept up her neck at the contact. “Thank you, Y/N, but I’m fine,” Sam mumbled.

“Okay, but if you need anything, you can always call me Sam. No matter what it is, I’ll drop everything and come to you,” you said as you gently squeezed Sam’s thigh before removing your hand and placing it in your lap.

A few awkward beats of silence passed before you quietly asked, “So, how have you been?” Sam chuckled at your question. “You seriously did not ask me that,” Sam joked.

“I don’t know what else to say,” you replied with a small laugh, “But seriously, Sam. How have you been?”

Sam looked at you, and she saw the genuine concern in your eyes. “I feel like I should be asking you that question,” Sam weakly replied. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at Sam, and the older woman felt all the love she felt for you come flooding back, and all she wanted to do was kiss you.

Instead of giving in to her urges and desires, Sam, once again, decided what was best for you. She got off your bed, and your eyes followed as she opened your door. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” You asked when she was halfway out the door.

Sam turned to face you, and you saw the tears in her eyes, showing a rare emotion. “I believe so,” Sam replied with a weak smile, “Goodnight, Y/N.” And with that, Sam left your room and shut your door.

Once again leaving you. And for the first time, you let her go without a fight; you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve been seeing someone,” Sam blankly admitted one night with Tara. The two sisters were in Sam’s room, and Tara was cuddled up next to her sister as she dozed in and out of consciousness, but she eagerly shot up at Sam’s statement.

“As In hallucinations or dating?” Tara asked with a raised eyebrow. Knowing Sam, it could be both; she hoped it was the latter.

“Yes, as in dating, you fucking asshole,” Sam huffed under breath as she sat up in bed. Tara moved off of Sam completely and sat crisscrossed on the bed. “Who is it?” Tara asked with an idea of who it was.

She wasn’t stupid; she noticed how you suddenly stopped coming over the mood shift Sam had gone through. And Tara also noticed how Sam’s eyes were always bloodshot, as if she had been crying.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Sam asked.

“I cannot promise you how future Tara will react to the news I am about to receive,” the younger sister replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

With a small sigh, Sam looked at her sister before confessing, “I had been sleeping with Y/N for six months.”

Nothing. That’s all Sam could hear: nothing. Not even the sound of her breathing or the AC running; it was silent. She was ready to leave when Tara exclaimed, “I fucking knew it!”

The younger sister wrapped her arms around Sam and gently shook the girl back and forth, “I fucking knew it!! I called it!”

“Called what?” Sam asked as she pushed out of Tara’s tight hold and looked at her sister’s eyes full of excitement. “I knew you and Y/N were together since I first saw a hickey on your neck after she ‘disappeared’ somewhere!” Tara replied while making air quotes.

“Whatever, just don’t get too excited about it. We aren’t together anymore,” Sam mumbled.

“Well, I figured as much. You have been extra grumpy lately, and Y/N has been more reserved.”

“I am not grumpy!” Sam defended.

“Yes, you are! You get grumpy when you go a period of time without sex. And it only started when you got with Y/N!” Tara remarked as if she had been studying Sam’s behavioral patterns for a while now. “So, why did you break it off with her?”

“Because she can do much better than me,” Sam admitted. Tara took a few minutes to think about her sister’s words before speaking, “And why is that?”

Sam scoffed, “What do you mean? She can do a lot better than me. I don’t have a college degree, I work two shitty jobs, and I’m six years older than her.”

“Sam, I love you, I really do. But do you think Y/N cares about an age gap? That woman would murder someone just to go on a date with Jennifer Aniston; I think you’re fine. And Y/N wants you for who you are, Sam. Not something you are trying to force yourself to be,” Tara replied, and Sam had to admit, she had a point. “I know, it’s just different,” Sam weakly retorted as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“So what happened then? You freak out and push her away?” Tara blatantly asked. She knew how her sister pushed people away when things got rough for her, and to be frank, it hurt her to see Sam push away the people she loved just to protect them from her.

Sam dropped her hand down to her lap and fidgeted with her fingers while she thought about how to word this. Yes, she did break things off with you and push you away, but it was also something more serious than that.

When it came time for Sam to get serious in a relationship, she always ran away from it. But this time, she was ready to get serious with you. She wanted to share a home with you somewhere; she wanted to wake up in bed with you every morning for the rest of her days, and if she was lucky enough, Sam wanted to marry you. And that terrified the shit out of her.

Being in a committed, long-term relationship horrified Sam; she was scared of being stuck with someone and unable to get out. But when she was with you, the only thing she could think about was how beautiful your name would sound if it ended with ‘Carpenter.’

“It’s complicated,” Sam finally said with a shrug of her shoulders, hoping Tara would let it slide.

“No, it’s not! You just have commitment issues,” Tara exclaimed with her hands.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh really? Then how come you broke up with Y/N?”

“Because…” Sam finally realized that she did, in fact, have commitment issues, “because I am scared to get serious with someone,” she whispered, afraid that Tara would judge her.

Tara moved closer to her sister and gently took Sam’s hands. “Sam, I want you to listen to me, and you listen well. Y/n loves you. Okay? I know that scares the shit out of you, but she really does. She would do anything for you, even if that meant letting you break her heart. But please, do not let this once-in-a-lifetime relationship slip out of your fingers because you are scared to commit to it. Okay? If you really do want a relationship with her, then please tell her, and do not push her away, because a human can only take so much heartbreak before they are too broken to care about others. Please don’t do that to Y/N.”

Sam took Tara’s words as guilt and regret spread throughout her body. Of course, she loved you, but she was afraid that if she told you, you would run away in fear and never talk to her again. But now, as she listened to her sister’s words, she realized she might have already done that. Sam just hoped it wasn’t too late to make it up to you.

With a small sigh, Sam got up from her bed and excused herself to the bathroom. When she walked in and shut the door, she was greeted by her ever-loving father.

“It’s been a while, Sam,” Billy acknowledged while staring at Sam through the mirror. “Please, not tonight,” Sam quietly replied as she grabbed her toothbrush.

It had been a week since CVS ran out of her medication, and she started to see Billy everywhere: the reflections on the train windows, in the puddles of rain that scattered the cracked sidewalk, she even noticed in the corner of her room once, and that was the first. Sam had always seen him in reflections or mirrors, never by himself, and she knew it was only the beginning when she caught the faintest glimpse of him in her corner.

“You never want me to talk to you, Sam. It’s honestly quite insulting,” Billy retorted with a snort, clearly amused with himself. “Honestly, Sam. Why do you hate me?”

A loud scoff left Sam’s lips as she tried her best to keep him quiet, hoping that Tara wouldn’t have to see her talking to Billy. “Leave me alone,” Sam whispered as she wet her toothbrush, put some paste on it, and brushed her teeth.

“Leave you alone? Are you insane? What would you do without me?” Billy exclaimed. Sam didn’t respond to her father as she continued brushing her teeth and ignored the lecture she was getting about following in his footsteps.

“Seriously, Sam. How could you fumble Y/N?” Billy joked as Sam spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth. She could excuse her father talking to her about murdering people, but she drew the line at slandering you. “That’s enough,” Sam dryly replied as she began flossing her teeth.

“No, it’s not. I might be a figment of your imagination, but I will be damned if I let you pass up on Y/N! That’s just bad parenting,” Billy defended as he crossed his arms. “What are you going to do to get her back?”

“Nothing,” Sam commented as she threw away the string and turned to leave. “Sam, please. Don’t let this pass you up. You will regret letting Y/N go for the rest of your life if you don’t go after her,” Billy reasoned but stopped talking when Sam turned off the light and left the room.

She didn’t need to get lectured by her serial killer father right after her sister finished preaching to her, but maybe he gave out some good advice occasionally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week following your conversation with Sam was typical, even though you occasionally cried yourself to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night looking for Sam. And you had miraculously found yourself another suitor.

Of course, you looked at other women following your split from Sam, and you put them into two categories: Sam and not Sam. And no one else seemed to fill the void that Sam left, even though one girl came close.

She was your age and was attending your university when you ran into her at a party, and you two hit it off. You both shared a love for books and nature, but when you were with her, you felt nothing, only longing for your beautiful Latina.

“Are you even paying attention?” Ashley asked as she snapped her fingers before your face, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Mhm? Oh, yeah. Sorry about that,” you mumbled as you looked around the library. It was later in the evening, and you and Ashley were studying for your MCAT together, but all you could think about was Sam.

“Well, then,” Ashley said with a playful smirk on her lips, “Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

The question had caught you off guard, and you certainly weren’t expecting her to be so forward about it. “Um, yeah. Just let me know when,” you replied with a fake smile that Ashley didn’t pick up on. “Sweet! I’ll text you the deets! See ya!” Ashley said as she stood up from the table and kissed your cheek before waltzing away.

The kiss surprised you, and when you felt her lips on your skin, you didn’t feel anything. Not a single spark, and it didn’t make your stomach get tingly like it did with Sam. So, in your eyes, she was just another Not-Sam. But when she texted you late one Thursday, asking you out to dinner on Saturday, you couldn’t find yourself to say no.

Even though she never compared to your Sammy, you were willing to settle for a nice enough girl who had the same career path as you. And hopefully, you could find it in yourself to love her one day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday night had arrived, and for the first time in two months, you got dressed up for a date. You and Sam had made a habit of going on dinner dates at least once a month, as you both hated the idea of classic dates. Your normal dates would consist of small hikes, going to the movies, sometimes watching a local play, shopping at the local bookstores, picking out flowers for each other, and the occasional date where she would pick out a tattoo for you to get.

The thought of getting matching tattoos disgusted you, but you had no problem with letting Sam pick out a tattoo for you, as long as you agreed with it, of course.

You wore a simple black suit with a sheer shirt, classy but still showing a bit of skin. Naturally, you had no intention of trying to impress Ashley, but you wanted to dress up, and it felt good to get fancy occasionally.

Your phone dinged with a text from Ashley, telling you that she was heading to the restaurant now, so you grabbed your keys and jacket and left your room to tell Anika that you were leaving.

When Sam saw you enter the living room dressed in a nice black suit with the jacket in your hand, she felt her heart rip and almost lost her breath. She had killed you, but it killed her just the same. Seeing you dress up for someone who was clearly not her hurt in more ways than a bullet to the brain ever would.

“Alright, Anika, I’m leaving,” you said as you approached the couch and gave Anika a fist bump. You tried your best to ignore the tension in the room as Sam stared at you.

“Let me know if you’re bringing her back here or going over to her place,” Anika said with a smile. She was glad to see you finally leave your room and go out with someone, even if she hated the woman you were going with.

“Sounds good,” you replied with a weak smile that faltered when your eyes landed on Sam. The Latina had a blank expression, but her eyes told a thousand stories. You could see the heartbreak in them, along with the love and yearning she felt toward you. You wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and finally get rid of all this angst between you two; she was your lifeline, and you needed her like the ocean needs the moon, but you knew breaking things off was for the better.

So, when you cleared your throat and said goodbye to the group, you let a lone tear fall down your cheek at the thought of losing your Sam.

When you left the room, the group of friends let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “Sam,” Tara whispered as she reached for her sister’s hand, but Sam pulled away. They all knew of the situation between you and Sam, and all four of them hated saying you two this way.

“I need a moment to myself,” Sam said as she pushed herself off the couch. “Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?” Tara asked with worry laced in her voice.

“I’ll be fine; I just need to be by myself for a while,” Sam replied as she left the room, went outside to the backyard, and sat at a table. She allowed herself to think about all the times she had with you, and she slowly felt you slipping through her fingers. You were once her home to come back to on a hard day at work, but now, she had nowhere to go.

No one understood her the way you did, and she desperately needed you back, but she would not ruin your date. Sam had been the one to break things off with you, and she needed to pay the consequences. When she heard your car pull out of the driveway and drive down the road, she finally broke down crying, and you weren’t there to catch her.

She didn’t know how long she was crying until she heard the back door creak open, and Tara walked out of the house and approached her. “Sam,” Tara breathed out as she walked to her sister and wrapped her right arm around her, pulling her sister into her chest. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m here for you.”

Tara gently rubbed Sam’s back as she comforted her sister, not knowing what to say to improve it.

After a few minutes, Sam’s cries turned into soft sniffles as she pulled away from her sister. “I take it you didn’t talk to her?” Tara weakly asked. “Nope,” Sam replied with a small laugh, “I guess I deserve this, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t. Well, I mean kind of. You did break it off with her, but still, you deserve love,” Tara commented as she tried her best to comfort Sam but still gave her the hard truth. Sam lightly laughed at Tara’s words while wiping away her tears.

“My entire life, I have been told that I’m destined to be alone, that no one will ever love. My own fucking mother told me that I was unlovable, and I believe her. So when I fell for Y/N, I broke her heart to try and save mine, but it killed me. The only thing I want to do is run to her and tell her that I love her, but I can’t do that because she found someone else, someone who will treat her better than I ever have, and she will give her a better life than I ever will. I pushed away the only person who has ever loved me because I was too much of a coward to say, ‘I love you,’” Sam admitted in a broken voice, and Tara felt her heart break for her sister.

A few beats of silence passed before Sam spoke, “Do you know who she’s going out with?” She knew she would only get hurt by asking, but she needed to know if you had found someone better than her, praying that you did just so she had the final confirmation that you didn’t need her, even though she needed you.

“Sam,” Tara quietly said, afraid to tell Sam the truth, but her sister's look told her that Sam needed to know or else she would not sleep. “The girl’s name is Ashley, and they met at college. They are both in pre-med together.”

The look on Sam’s face was comical; her expression was pure relief even though her eyes told the opposite story and were full of guilt, regret, and longing. “Good. Good,” Sam muttered with a voice full of confidence, “I’m happy for her.”

Tara nodded at her sister’s words, having no idea what to say to make the situation better for Sam. “I guess so. Are you ready to come inside?” Tara asked.

“No, not yet. I just want to be left alone,” Sam replied with a weak smile.

The younger sister nodded at Sam’s words and kissed Sam’s head as she stood up, “Okay, just please let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Sam said as she watched Tara walk away.

The sound of crickets chirping filled the backyard, and as soon as Tara walked inside, he walked out from the shadows.

Sam said nothing as Billy slowly approached her and sat beside her. “Well, looks like you’re on your own, kid. You always have been, though,” Billy remarked.

“What do you want?” Sam defeatedly asked as she looked up at her father. “I want you to suck it up and stop being a little bitch!” Billy exclaimed, clearly angry with his daughter for letting you go.

A small, dry chuckle left Sam’s lips as she exited the table. “Hey, where are you going?” Billy asked as he also got up and followed Sam to the door. “Inside,” Sam replied before she opened the door and closed it on him.

“You know you can’t outrun me, right?” Billy asked as he magically appeared in the living room, right next to Tara. Sam tried her best to hold her tongue as she watched Billy stare at her younger sister.

“Hey, I’m going to go home. Are you fine with staying here, or do you want to come with me?” Sam asked Tara as she ignored her father.

“I’m fine with staying here, but are you sure you want to be alone?” Tara asked, utterly oblivious to the fake man staring at her.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll text you when I get home, though, okay?” Sam said as she walked through Billy and gave Tara a quick hug. “Okay, just be safe,” Tara replied once she pulled away from Sam’s embrace.

Sam said her goodbyes to the rest of the group as she left the house and drove home, with Billy sitting in the passenger seat. He talked the entire way to her apartment, and when Sam turned up the radio to tune him out, he only spoke louder.

When Sam got home, she quickly got inside her apartment and locked the door before going to her room. She took a hot shower while listening to her father’s rant from outside the shower.

He was currently going on about God knows what, but it was driving Sam insane. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to stop talking.

Sam finished her shower and dressed as her father’s voice still filled her head, but she finally had enough when he said, “You know, you honestly suck at being a gay person.”

“Whatever,” Sam dryly replied as she left her bathroom and climbed onto her bed, with Billy in the corner of the room sitting in a chair. “I’m not saying that to be mean, but you honestly do. You should be fighting for your woman, not letting some bitch named Ashley fuck her instead.”

At the mention of you being intimate with someone else, Sam couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her phone and got off her bed.

No drug could ever work as good as you did; she had tried them all, and nothing worked, nothing except you. She needed you more than anything right now, and she had pushed you away because she was scared to feel something that was real. So, she did the only thing she could think about: she called you.

She didn’t care if you screamed at her for breaking your heart; all she needed was your voice to help keep Billy away. She could handle you hating her because that meant you still thought of her. She could not take you being indifferent about her, not being on your mind at all, while you ran laps around her brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m glad you agreed to go on this date with me,” Ashley informed as you walked into the restaurant together. She was wearing a tight green cocktail dress that showed a decent amount of her cleavage, and you respected her attempt to pull your eye.

“I’m thankful for the invite,” you replied with an honest smile as you held the door open for her. You were glad to be going to dinner with someone new, even if the restaurant was too fancy for your taste.

The restaurant was lined with fancy and expensive wines, and marble statues stood in the room's corners as you followed a waiter to your seat.

The table was already set up for two with a small candle in the middle, and you bit back a laugh at the shitty attempt to make this a romantic dinner.

You sat across from Ashley as she took her napkin and placed it on her lap, and you copied her actions.

“Hello, you two lovely ladies. My name is Cole, and I will be your waiter for the night,” a primarily built man stated as he approached your table, “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

“I’ll have water, please,” you quietly said, and Ashley repeated your words. When Cole walked off to grab your beverages, Ashley spoke with you.

Honestly, you felt terrible for not paying attention, but you seriously didn’t want to hear her talk about her rich daddy and the summer home she was staying at this weekend. You were halfway paying attention when you saw a woman in the corner of your eye.

You didn’t see her face; you only saw her jet-black hair and how she carried herself, screamed Sam.

“Sam?” You quietly muttered as your eyes followed the woman, praying she was here to save you. But when the woman turned around, she wasn’t your Sam.

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Ashley asked as she studied your face. She picked up on how you wished this mysterious woman was here, and she hated the idea of another woman being on your mind.

You turned your attention back to your ‘date.’ “Oh, she’s no one, just someone I used to know,” you said with a fake smile.

Ashley just nodded her hair as she twirled her hair around her finger. “Okay, thank god. For a second, I thought you were talking about that Sam Loomis chick,” Ashley replied with a laugh.

“Carpenter,” you stated through a clenched jaw as your hand balled into a fist.

“What?” Ashley asked, pretending to play stupid. The smile on her face aggravated you for some unknown reason, and all you wanted to do was punch her for insulting your soulmate.

“Her name is Sam Carpenter, not Loomis,” you replied in the same stern voice.

“Well, whatever her name is, she’s that psycho bitch that killed a bunch of her friends and even her sister! Can you believe that?” Ashley asked with far too much excitement in her voice.

“No, I can’t. Because she didn’t do that, and her sister is still alive,” you replied with slight irritation. Your anger increased the longer you stayed with Ashley, and you desperately needed to get away from the girl.

Ashley scoffed at your words, “Oh, yeah? How do you know that then? Are you secretly in on the murders, too?”

“No, I just think it’s wrong to judge someone based on some bullshit rumors on Reddit.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Ashley randomly stated as hate overtook her once peaceful eyes, “You’re so fucking pathetic that you can’t believe the facts and evidence that prove that Sam Carpenter is a murderer!”

A dry laugh left your lips as you shook your head back and forth. You had a mischievous smile as you clenched and unclenched your hands, trying your best to keep cool.

You were getting ready to defend Sam’s name when your phone went off, and your heart filled with joy as you read the name.

Never in a million years did you expect Sam to call you, but now, as her name flashed across your screen right before you were getting ready to go jail for assault and battery, you excused yourself as you walked out for the restaurant and answered your phone.

“Sam?” You whispered into the phone, praying you could finally return to your home. You listened to Sam’s shaky breathing on the other end, and you knew you needed to get to her as soon as possible. “Y/N,” Sam replied tremblingly, and you could sense her teary eyes, “I miss my home.”

Your lip quivered at Sam’s broken voice, and a tear fell down your cheek as you said weakly, “I’m leaving now.”

“Please hurry. I need you,” Sam whispered into the phone, trying her best to fight back her tears and Billy’s voice. He had gotten so loud that she couldn’t even hear herself think, and it was becoming too much.

“I will, my love,” you replied as you hung up the phone and returned to your table.

“I’m so sorry, but an emergency has come up, and I need to leave,” you quickly said as you frantically grabbed your keys and wallet. “Here’s a twenty to cover my food; I am sorry about this,” you said as you practically ran out of the restaurant and toward your car, giving Ashley zero time to take in the situation.

You unlocked your car, turned it on, and peeled off towards Sam’s house, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you heard the angelic voice of Lana Del Rey fill the car.

I got my mind on you

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

I’ve got my eye on you

The ironic lyrics caused you to start laughing as you thought back to the beginning of your relationship with Sam.

Ever since you first met the woman, you had your mind on her all hours of the day, even before you got romantically involved with her. You felt like you would wait a lifetime for Sam to say yes to you, and it seemed your eye never left her.

When you parked your car outside Sam’s apartment, you ran as fast as you could up the stairs and knocked rapidly on the door. You didn’t even have time to catch your breath before Sam flung the door open and grabbed your neck, pulling your lips to hers. You kissed her back, and you finally felt yourself returning to your home, to your Sam.

And for the first time in weeks, Sam finally felt her father’s voice disappear as she returned home.

“You came,” Sam breathlessly mumbled against your lips. “You called,” you replied while pulling back to look at your woman. You noticed her bloodshot eyes and dried tear stains on her cheeks and felt your heartbreak. This wasn’t the cold-hearted Sam Carpenter the media portrayed; this was the real Sam Carpenter, scared to be vulnerable and loved but needed to be loved by you. This was the Sam who yearned for your heart with every fiber of her being and who would die for you. She was your soulmate, your home, and if you were lucky enough, maybe even your wife one day.

“What happened, Sam?” You quickly asked while rubbing Sam’s cheek with your thumb. The older woman shook her head as her lip quivered, and a tear fell. You wiped it away and placed a quick kiss where it had ended. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam admitted with an embarrassed tone, “I just need you here with me.”

“Okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” you replied lovingly, and Sam felt nothing but guilt for pushing you away.

Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you into her apartment, shut and locked the door before pulling you into her room. Sam shut the door as she looked through her closet and pulled out some of your clothes.

“I’ve been looking for this,” you quietly said as you reached into Sam’s closet and ran your fingers over your favorite hoodie. A slight frown pulled at Sam’s lips, “Oh. You can have that back,” she muttered as she handed you one of your shirts and a pair of shorts to change into.

“Sam, I don’t want it back. I want you to keep it; I was just stressing over where I put it last,” you replied with a smile as you studied Sam. You noticed how she had her hands hidden again, and the stress lines were more transparent; you knew Billy was bothering her again. You stripped in front of Sam, and for some unknown reason, she turned her head and gave you some privacy.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you joked with a playful smile as you finished changing into comfier clothes, and Sam huffed at your words.

You gave Sam a quick kiss before you walked off into the kitchen with the woman right on your heels. You put some water in a kettle and set it on the stove to boil as you searched for some cocoa mix while Sam studied your actions.

Whenever she saw Billy, you would always make her some hot cocoa and turn on a movie you knew she loved, just to add some extra comfort. The feeling that Sam felt in her chest as she watched you grab the mix and make her a cup once the water was done boiling was something she couldn’t describe. She felt her chest flutter, and her heart beat increased when she saw that smile you reserved for only her.

“What?” You asked with that same smile, and Sam couldn’t keep it to herself anymore; she had to tell you, or it would continue to eat at her.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart explode at Sam’s confession, and you tried your best to keep your emotions in line as she continued talking.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I always have; I’ve just been too scared to admit it. I love you so much that the only way I thought I could love you was by pushing you away, but that destroyed both of us. Whenever I look at you, all I see is my future, and I want to have that with you: a future. But only if you want me, only if you accept me,” Sam admitted with tears in her eyes, hoping you understood what she meant by future: a wife.

Your bottom lip quivered as you approached Sam and gently cupped her cheeks before pulling her into the softest, most loving kiss you two had ever shared, and Sam knew you understood her double meaning.

“I want you to be my future,” you stated against Sam’s lips as your thumb traced her cheekbone before kissing her lips once before, “But finish up your cocoa.” Sam chuckled before kissing your lips to comfort her, before pulling away and picking up her mug.

You talked with Sam about how your lives had been since the split, and you found it ironic that both of your lives had turned downhill. You would occasionally throw tiny marshmallows at Sam and would scold you before putting some in her drink, but she cherished seeing the playful side of you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Sam randomly cut you off as you were talking about your schoolwork. You looked at the woman, whose eyes refused to meet yours as she stared at her mug.

You walked over to Sam and gently placed your left hand on her back, and she turned to face you. You cupped her cheek with your right hand and pulled her into a loving kiss, and she sighed against your lips before kissing you back.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you said once the kiss had ended, and you ignored the way Sam took in a deep breath as if she was surprised you said yes.

“Okay. Good,” Sam replied while pulling away for you, and her heart melted when she saw the giant smile on your lips before a puzzled look appeared on your face.

“What’s this?” You playfully asked as you reached up toward Sam’s face and quickly pulled out a hair.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam exclaimed while you held the hair close to her eyes and scoffed at you; it was a single grey hair.

“I call that one ‘Tara,’” Sam remarked as she took it out of your hand and threw it in the trash can, “I appreciate the hot cocoa, but can we please go to bed?”

“Of course,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her room and shut the door. Sam threw back the covers on her bed and climbed in, opening her arms for you to join her.

With a giant smile, you got in bed next to Sam and cuddled up to her chest, and you both finally felt at home when Sam wrapped her arms around you and placed a loving kiss on your head. Telling you that she wasn’t going anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara let out a small groan as she twisted and turned in bed before fumbling for her phone and checking the time: 3:33 a.m. She groaned as she rose from the bed, and her tiny bare feet patted against the flooring as she walked into the kitchen. Tara grabbed a bottle of water before approaching Sam’s door, but she stopped her hand from knocking.

The girl heard muffled voices inside, and she heard Sam talking to someone, “You know you don’t have to leave, right?” The stranger sighed at Sam’s words as they approached the closed door, “I know, but I'm already in the dog house with Gale, and if I’m not back in her apartment in the morning, she’ll have my head.” Somehow, Tara recognized that voice, and she knew that she should know who it was, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.

When Tara heard a hand land on the door, she flew into the living room and hid beside the couch as the door opened.

Sam and the stranger walked to the door together, and a giant smile grew on Tara’s face when she saw that it was you. With a small sigh, Sam smiled at you, “Okay, just please text me back when you get home, okay?”

“I always do,” you joked with a giant grin as you leaned in and kissed Sam, and you felt your heart explode when she kissed you back. “I love you,” Sam admitted against your lips before you opened the door and turned to face her.

“I love you too, Sam. More than you will ever know,” you replied as you placed a final quick kiss on Sam’s lips before leaving.

Sam closed and locked the door and jumped when she saw Tara standing before her with a creepy grin and straight stance. “Jesus Christ, you’re creepy as fuck,” Sam stated as she walked to her room with Tara on her heels.

“What was that?” Tara asked while making a sour face when she walked into Sam’s room and breathed in the air that reeked of sex, “Air out your room, oh my god.”

The older sister scoffed at Tara’s words as she removed the sheets from her bed and threw them into a laundry basket. “I was hanging out with Y/N. Why?” Sam asked while putting on fresh sheets and properly making her bed. “‘Hanging out,’ my ass! You two were fucking!” Tara exclaimed.

“Yes, we were. And don’t act surprised; you were the one who told me to go after her,” Sam replied as she walked into her bathroom and brushed her teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s been almost a month since you officially started dating, and you both couldn’t be happier.

“I know that, but I thought you two would have a bit more decency than this,” Tara scuffed.

Sam spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth before returning to her bedroom. “Don’t judge me for what I do with my girlfriend, Tara,” Sam replied while getting into bed and plugging up her phone.

“How long have you two been dating?” Tara asked, almost hurt that Sam didn’t tell her. “It will be a month next Wednesday,” Sam replied while staring at her sister, “Do you need anything, or are you just here to make fun of me?”

“Well, I was here to ask if I could sleep in here with you tonight, but I’m going back to my room. Because it doesn’t smell like sex!” Tara exclaimed as she left Sam’s room and shut the door.

Sam chuckled at her sister’s reaction before she received a text message.

Y/N <3: Just got home, and I already miss you

Sammy 😼: You’ll see me in the morning time, Y/N. And I miss you too. Goodnight, my love.

Y/N <3: Goodnight, Sammy. I love you

Sammy 😼: I love you too.

Sam smiled as she texted you back and put her phone on her nightstand before lying down for the night. No words could describe her love for you, and she couldn’t wait to start her future with you.

You couldn’t help it when your heart grew ten times as you reread the text message. Sam loved you, and you loved her, and you went to bed with one thought on your mind: She finally said yes to heaven.

#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #spotify

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writers-requiem · 4 months ago

Text

Title: Back Home in Your Arms

Genere: Marvel, Superheroes, Comfort

Pairing: Beast x superhero!Reader

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of graphic injury, depictions of anxiety attacks, emotional breakdown

Rating: E10+ for Everyone 10 and up.

It was a quiet day. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

You had been away for days on end for a business trip to Chicago, and you both expected your return to be in just a week.

But then a week turned into two, then three plus some days. All the while his anxiety began to grow higher and higher.

To summarize what happened with Hank during the extra time you were gone, let's get descriptive.

Day 1: You both had assumed that your flight was simply delayed so didn't think much of it. So you went about doing your usual things to pass the time until the day concluded.

Day 2: He felt a little on edge, but not too terribly worried. Still, he sent you a text to make sure you were alright. After a few hours of no reply, his anxiety began to grow, but it was still manageable.

Days 3-4: He tried to call you over and over during his downtime, to which he got no response of any sort other than silence.

Days 5-7: His condition was visibly getting worse. He ate less and slept barely any at all. And even if he did sleep, he'd have frequent nightmares about what may have happened to you. Were you cheating on him? Was someone taking advantage of you? Did someone kidnap you? All these questions in his head made him uneasy.

Days 8-10: It's really getting bad, his figure has slimmed down at an alarming rate, the bags under his eyes are heavier than ever, and he can barely even do his usual tasks without his arms shaking or losing his grip. Not to mention his vision is getting worse, not even glasses help him.

Days 11-14: Now Hank is at his most vulnerable. He's holed up in his room, wracked with worry. His sanity is beginning to slip from fear, his heart rate is through the roof, eyes reddened from the seemingly endless hours of either silent or open crying. The others were already worried about him, but now their concerns are at an all-time high. Even before then, they had tried to trace your location to see where you were and what was going on so he could calm down a little, but nothing turned up.

Day 15: Half a month later and still no news. His room is trashed, his mood now only ranges from sad, to frightened. It's not a pretty sight.

A day later and there's a knock on the door.

Logan answers it and sees a slightly familiar face.

Logan: "He's not looking too good. You should see for yourself."

He led you to his room which had a name tag that read "Hank McCoy" in gold lettering.

Logan left you alone and you entered the room, noticing the state of disarray it was in, and the crumpled blue furry man on the ground, crunched up in the fetal position.

You: "Hank?"

You placed a hand on his head, causing him to jolt up and look at you.

It takes a couple minutes of him looking you over, feeling your skin and even sniffing your hair and the crook of your neck, but eventually, he realizes that it's you.

He's quick to embrace you, forgetting his own strength in spite of his condition. Still, you didn't mind. You were just happy to see him again. But his face was still wracked with worry. Your clothes were torn, and your body was covered in scratches, bruises, a black eye, deep cuts and lots of blood.

Hank: "Where have you been? What happened? Are you okay? Who hurt you? When did you-"

During his torrent of questions, you soothed his soul with a gentle kiss on the lips.

He closed his eyes and held you a bit more gently than previously. Then he pulled you in for another hug and showed no signs of letting you go.

You: "Long story short, supervillains interrupted the trip which made us late for our flights home, so I needed to hitch a few rides back here."

You took a look at the room around you and remarked how uncharacteristically messy it was.

You: "But it looks like you've been through a hell of your own."

Hank: "All that matters is that we're here. Home in our arms."

Afterwards the two of you took a shower to clean each other off after the past few days of chaos, then you slept together on the couch, the best sleep either of you have had in days. And come the next day, you spent it cleaning up his room and making sure he took care of himself. Meaning making sure he had plenty to eat and drink, getting in some exercise, and taking plenty of breaks. And in record time, he was back to his usual self.

You: "Now remember, if this happens again Hank, don't worry about me. I may not have powers, but I won't go down that easy."

Hank: "I know. Sorry love."

You two shared a kiss and just sat together in his lab, you snuggled up against him while he got back to work on his projects.

#character x y/n #reblog friendly #fanfic #marvel #comfort #beast #x men #Hank McCoy x Reader #hank mccoy #Beast x Reader #superhero reader #wolverine and the x men #anxitey #emotional

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

Text

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 16

Just one more chapter left, and in cased you missed it, I won't be doubling up on chapters per day this week. The last chapter will be out next week.

Doubling up really killed the numbers for these stories, half the time people were only reacting and commenting on the SECOND chapter.

But don't worry, what this means is that your favorites you've been seeing snippets of on WIP will get quicker releases this way.

In this Eddie's rut progresses as normal, they talk about Steve's status, and Eddie and Benny learn some very interesting things about golden omegas.

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

****

Eddie came to and was sure that at least a day had passed, but he looked at the clock on Steve’s nightstand and frowned. It had only been five hours since his rut had started. He looked in the wastebasket and there were only three condoms in it which fit the time frame.

He looked around, but Steve wasn’t there. He sat up and the sheet that had been covering his waist slid off. He looked down and saw that his dick was sheathed with another condom.

There was some of Steve’s slick on the sheets, but considering Eddie was still in them, he figured Steve couldn’t change them yet.

He could hear Steve humming to a beat in the kitchen and padded out there.

He smiled fondly as he watched the omega dance around his kitchen to the music in his head. Bopping and hopping as he made a wholesome snack.

“That snack looks good, baby,” he said, his alpha rumbling happily, “but I would rather eat you.”

Steve squeaked. “Eddie! You’re awake! How do you feel?”

For the first time since he woke up, he took stock of his body, really examining it.

“Warm, sated...” he said furrowing his brow, “happy?”

Steve beamed at him. “Yay! That means your rut is progressing as it should. It seems like your body is adjusting better to the low light and you’re more lucid.”

Eddie came up behind him and buried his nose into Steve’s scent gland. “All because of you, sweetness.”

Steve squawked when Eddie picked him and spun him around.

When Eddie finally put him down Steve swatted at him playfully. “You absolute menace.”

Eddie cackled. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve turned around in his arms and kissed him deeply. Their cocks brushed against each other and he let out a low moan.

“So good...”

Eddie nipped at Steve’s chin. “Let’s get some food in us and then I want something else in you.”

Steve snorted. They ate and hydrated before Eddie picked Steve up bridal style and carried him back to the bedroom.

Eddie could feel himself sliding back into the blind haze of his rut, but the scent of the omega underneath him stirred some distant memory, but it was lost in the next moment when Steve moaned.

The pattern continued like that for the five days. Steve and Eddie taking care of each other while Eddie was lucid, Steve taking care him when he wasn’t.

Eddie had never experienced a rut that had gone so smooth. He understood why alphas paid top dollar for an escort to service their ruts if every one was like this.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend another rut without Steve for as long as he was biologically able to experience ruts.

Each time he became lucid, he would become aware for longer. The last day having two hours before the rut took over him again.

But he used those two hours wisely. He talked to Steve.

“Baby,” Eddie said, from the sofa, “come sit for a bit. You know it won’t hit again for awhile, you might as well relax.”

Steve looked over at him and smiled. He padded over to the sofa and curled up onto Eddie’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “This was worth every penny. I see why it’s so popular.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad that it’s available to alphas that can’t afford escorts through clinics.”

“That’s a new thing, though right?” Eddie asked. “I don’t remember seeing them when I first presented.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “It’s something that a lot of the major escort houses pushed for in recent years, if all alphas can get the same level of care that the rich do, then it lowers the chances of alphas turning feral from bad ruts.”

Eddie grinned. “It would have happened in the last five years or so, would it? Like say when a particular omega became popular?”

Steve blushed but didn’t deny it. Alpha health was something he had been passionate about for awhile. Helping everyone no matter how much money someone had was just the start of what he wanted to do. Mandating sex education for alphas. It was mandated for omegas and beta, but not alphas, because ‘alphas instinctively knew what to do’ with omegas. Which was bullshit.

“I thought so,” Eddie said.

Steve smiled back. “I’ve even got a non-profit going setting up education booths outside high schools for alphas to get pamphlets and other material about their reproductive health.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Eddie said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We should throw a gala like the one where we met to get the awareness out there.”

“That’s a great idea, Eds,” Steve said, kissing Eddie’s jaw.

They settled down into a warm silence for awhile just taking in each other’s soothing presence.

Eddie nuzzled Steve ear to wake him. “Hey, you tired, sweetness?”

Steve roused himself and looked up at him bleary eyed. “I guess I am. You see this rough and tumble alpha has been keeping my hole hot and full for the few days. Trying to keep up with him is tiring me out.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, if he wears you out so bad, you should blacklist him or something.”

“I would, but I’m in love with his cock so...”

Eddie’s head reared back in mock indignation. “Excuse you!”

Steve laughed. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scent gland and the alpha purred. Steve’s omega chirped happily in response.

“I love your scent,” Eddie murmured. “It’s not like other escorts I’ve met.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Chrissy, Elinor, Tommy,” Eddie said. “All smell too sweet. Like fruit rotting on the vine. A terrible but apt metaphor for their condition. But you smell spicy. But in sweet kind of way.”

“I do?” Steve really never thought about his own scent before.

Eddie nodded. “Gareth described it like Mexican hot chocolate. You know the kind that is spiced with peppers?”

Steve nodded back.

“Did you ever think that you might be a golden omega?” Eddie continued.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Never. Like why would I? I’m not special.”

“That’s highly debatable, sweetheart,” Eddie admonished. “But your scent and everything you’ve told me about your family. It’s very possible you could be.”

“Is that why you wanted to court me?” Steve asked, soft and small. Like a mouse.

Eddie pulled Steve in closer. “No baby, I didn’t figure it out until later. I wanted to court you because you are funny and amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

He lift Steve’s chin up and kissed him deeply. “Plus, I set up the rut way before I put the pieces together. Everything was set to protect me, but it seems to me that it may end up protecting you, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know, golden omegas can only get pregnant during their heats,” Eddie said. “And since I’m a known scent breaker...”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “You think there is a chance I’ll go into a mini heat, don’t you?”

Eddie nodded. “When I first booked you, it was one of the things Robin was adamant about protecting you from.”

“She’s amazing like that,” Steve murmured.

“She really is,” Eddie cooed. “But it looks like our time is up, honey.”

Steve could feel Eddie’s cock harden under his ass. “Come to bed with me, alpha,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”

Eddie let Steve pull him to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Steve’s bedroom for the last of Eddie’s rut.

****

When Eddie came to he was not in Steve’s apartment, he was in a smaller hotel room lying on a comfy sofa.

“I’m going to have to burn that sofa after all this,” Robin groused from a nearby armchair. “It will reek of alpha for months if I don’t. I can smell you from here.”

Eddie sat up. He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white tank top. No underwear, but then he hadn’t brought any. He ran his fingers through his greasy and sweat slicked hair.

“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled.

“Your manager, Benny sent over a duffel of clothes for you for the next three days.”

Eddie saw the small duffel and snatched it up. “May I please request the use of your shower, milady?”

Robin laughed. “Please do.”

Eddie dashed for the door she pointed to and slammed the door behind him. He stripped his clothes and quickly got under the still cold water. He didn’t want to wait for it to heat up because he felt that gross. His dick was most clean because Steve took the time to wipe him down between condom changes, but he washed it good anyway.

The next thing he focused on was his hair, he had to wash it several times before it felt like it was supposed to. He ran conditioner through the ends of his curls with his fingers, gently massaging it in.

Then he worked on getting the sweat and stink off his body. He hated washing away Steve’s scent, but if he didn’t get clean, Eddie was going to scratch his eyeballs out.

Finally satisfied with how clean he was, he rinsed out his conditioner and stepped out.

He dried off quickly and rummaged through the bag.

Eureka!

Underwear.

Eddie got dressed and then cleaned up his mess, hanging up towels and making sure there wasn’t water everywhere. Uncle Wayne raised him better than to make a mess of someone else’s home.

He opened the door to find Robin and Benny waiting for him.

“Hey, Ben Ten, Birdie,” he greeted, concern dripping from every pore. “What’s happening?”

Benny smiled. “It’s nothing bad. Robin and I were just wrapping up the end of the contract.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing because he was madly in love with Steve. He sat down on the sofa next to Benny.

“So everything is good?” he asked to be sure.

“Yup!” Robin said brightly. “You are now free to pursue the omega of your dreams.”

Eddie chuckled.

He thought for a moment, licking the bottom of his lip.

“Hey, Robin,” he asked, looking down at his clasped hands, “has an escort ever turned out to be a golden omega?”

Robin and Benny shared a glance.

“You think Steve might be one?” she asked. “Because if he is, that would be fucking hilarious.”

Eddie’s head snapped up.

“His parents have called him useless and a disgrace for being infertile for over a decade,” Robin explained. “To have him be a golden omega who could have been sold for ten to twenty times what he got auctioned for? That would be poetic justice.”

He nodded. “So do you think there’s a chance?”

“Sure,” she said with a half shrug. “The agency doesn’t shout it from the rooftops but yeah, there have been a couple of golden omegas that have come out of Starcourt.”

“How did they find out?” Benny asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

“A combination of a couple different ways,” Robin said. “The first is how frequent their heats are. Most golden omegas go into heat more often then regular fertile omegas to make up for the fact they can only get pregnant during their heats.”

Eddie nodded, “And Steve’s are within the normal range?”

She waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s more times a year than a regular omega, but not outside the possibility if you know what I mean.”

“So say a regular omega has four heats a year and golden omega has eight,” Benny said, “Steve’s heat is somewhere in the middle?”

Robin nodded. “Exactly. The other thing is scent. Which you know Steve’s is unusual. But it’s unusual for an omega full stop.”

Benny and Eddie shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Alphas scents are spices, like cinnamon, clove, cardamon, or spicy like peppers, or natural woody scents like pine or cedar,” she explained. “Omegas are fruit and floral scents. Sometimes flavors like chocolate or coffee. That includes golden omegas. Infertile omegas have what is always described as rotted fruit. Super sickly sweet.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “But Steve’s is a mix between the two scents?”

Robin nodded again. “Right. The third thing that helps identify a non-tested golden omega is their resistance to scent breakers.”

“Fuck,” Eddie said. “That means he’s not a golden omega. I thought for sure he was. I even told him he was. That he was so special and precious beyond measure.”

She shook her head. “No, Eddie. That’s where you’re wrong. There is a final thing that helps identify if the omega in question is a golden or not.”

Eddie frowned, “What’s that?”

“There’s a reason golden omegas get their choice of any alpha in the country, if not world,” she said fiercely. “And despite what the media likes to paint it as, it’s not just the rich and elite.”

“It’s not?” Benny asked.

Robin shook her head again. “They’re looking for their soulmate.”

It was like someone had scooped out Eddie’s stomach. “Their what?”

“Soulmate,” Robin said. “The person who completes them. Someone who can break through their scent breaking resistance, someone who’s scent compliments their own, someone who when they share their heats and ruts it goes just about as perfectly as two humans can get. And if they meet that person?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed.

“Oh.”

****

Soulmates! *jazz hands* Yeah, sorry I couldn't help myself.

Part 17

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@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #rockstar eddie munson

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mariacallous · 3 months ago

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Sudan’s rival generals have ignored warnings of mass starvation. In more than a year of brutal war, the two military factions have weaponized humanitarian aid.

Sudan’s de facto leader, military chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, has blocked aid into at least half of the country under the control of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) headed by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemeti. Meanwhile, the RSF is obstructing trucks into places held by the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF). Local volunteers running soup kitchens have been targeted and killed by the RSF, particularly in Khartoum, Sudanese aid workers told FP.

The conflict has created the world’s largest hunger and internal displacement crises. The fighting has pushed 25 million people, more than half the nation’s population, into acute hunger and forced about 11 million people to flee their homes, including 2.3 million who fled abroad. More than two million Sudanese could die by the end of this year, aid agencies warn.

In areas where there is food available, extortion and attacks on traders at checkpoints have raised prices. Women have recounted having sex with SAF soldiers in exchange for food. Reports of torture, rape, the use of children under 15 in the fighting, and ethnic-based massacres by the RSF and armed militias have surged over the past year.

“People are dying of hunger in the capital,” said Mathilde Vu, the Norwegian Refugee Council’s advocacy advisor in Sudan. “We are looking at the risk of starvation being used as a weapon of war. … This needs to be monitored. The policymakers already have a tool for that. The U.N. Security Council resolution about conflict and hunger, and what they need to put in place is a monitoring of that.”

Both sides in Sudan’s nearly 17-month civil war have committed “harrowing” abuses that may amount to war crimes, a U.N.-mandated mission reported on Friday, calling for a countrywide arms embargo. Sudan’s military government rejected a proposal by U.N. experts to deploy a peacekeeping force to protect civilians.

Compounding the situation, the humanitarian response is critically underfunded. A $2.7 billion U.N. appeal has been just 32 percent funded. Much of that funding has come from the United States. However, aid agencies say local volunteers on the ground need to be better supported since a cease-fire is highly unlikely in the immediate future.

Famine was declared in Zamzam camp housing about 500,000 displaced people near the besieged city of El Fasher, the state capital of North Darfur—areas where the RSF is blocking aid trucks. There’s a realistic chance of famine in 16 other areas, Vu said, but precise figures are hard to confirm. Last month, the SAF agreed to open the Adré border crossing from landlocked Chad into Sudan, for a period of three months. But international aid agencies told FP that the SAF has made things difficult through lengthy authorizations ensuring only a trickle of shipments gets in.

U.S. envoy for Sudan Tom Perriello visited Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Turkey this week in the latest attempt by the Biden administration to expand humanitarian access in Sudan, following failed peace talks in Geneva. The conflict risks turning into a forever war, in which various external actors seize the opportunity to extend their influence. Turkey, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Russia have been accused of arming warring parties.

While such negotiations are essential, U.S. attention and pressure should also focus on other regional powers with a vested interest in the conflict such as Eritrea and Ethiopia. Foreign mercenaries from Chad, Mali, Niger, the Central African Republic, and Libya are believed to be fighting in Sudan.

Pressuring regional powers could engage local armed militias allied to the warring parties in ultimately ensuring access to places like El Fasher. “It will create more of a buffer than two guys signing an agreement in Jeddah” and then breaking it, Vu said. “You cannot bypass the regional powers. … They really are the ones who have the leverage. It’s very important that Western powers engage them so that they have a constructive role in this crisis rather than a harmful one,” she added. Even if Burhan and Hemeti signed a peace deal, many of the local armed groups involved would likely not abide by it.

Both generals have held meetings with several African leaders, while the African Union has been largely absent in peace negotiations. More recently, Burhan held meetings with Eritrea’s president, Isaias Afwerki, and Ethiopia’s prime minister, Abiy Ahmed, at the China-Africa summit.

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bellewintersroe · 1 year ago

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Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngineer! Reader.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel. Part 1- just an introduction to the OC and situation, please excuse my inaccuracies about the 2013 GP and design engineering im not a pro and was like 11 back then 😭😭 here’s the LINK to part 2.

Australia, March 2013…

“And here… right through here is… our youngest, and my personal favourite design engineer. This is where all the magic happens.” The sound of Sebastian’s German accent caused my lips to lift as I took my head set off, spinning around in my chair. Sebastian was walking alongside a camera man, touring around the garages. It was pre practice day, only two more days and the 2013 GP would begin. Although I’d been hired for Red Bull back in October of last year, it had taken 5 months to get to this point of merciless training and shadowing to ensure I was good at what I was doing. The Red Bull driver made his way over, resting on the back of my large chair with an amused smile. “Hi.” I nervously giggled, pushing my hair behind my ear as my headset fell around my neck. “This is Jennifer, do you want to tell them what you’re doing today, Jennifer?” The use of my full, formal name was sending me slightly giggly as I gazed up to the blonde man. Maybe it was just him making me feel that way…

“Um… so, to put it in simple terms so it’s not so boring, we’re just checking all the components of the RB9’s- what Sebastian and Mark will be driving- to make sure we don’t need to make any last minute changes.” “And what’s your name again?” The camera man asked. “Jen, I never go by Jennifer.” I laughed, glancing back up to Sebastian again. Whenever our eyes met I found myself struggling to keep composure on camera. “Tell then a bit about yourself.” He then nudged me on, grinning down. He could tell I was getting flustered, but continued purposefully. “Nobody wants to know about me!” I laughed, attempting to spin my chair back around in embarrassment. Hiding behind my computer for the first two weeks was my safe haven, that’s what I’d reverted back to. “They do!! Tell us, how did you get into your position?!” Seb spun the chair back, sliding a hand down onto my very ticklish shoulder, squeezing as both my shoulders jumped up with a giggle.

“Sorry.” Seb breathlessly laughed. “Um- well I started here in October, I just finished my masters last year at Manchester in Motorsport Engineering- um… Im 22- I don’t really have anything else very interesting to say! Uh- I suppose I had- just had experience from working part time with my brother who’s an engineer when I was like… 15.” I explained.

“Clever girl.” Seb responded as I automatically gulped in response, looking up to him and awkwardly glimpsing back to the camera. I didn’t know how to act with that in my face. “And what’s this?” The camera zoomed closer in on my second screen, it was just information about F1’s plan to go electric next year and use Hybrid engines, but it contained private information. My hand flew up blocking the screen dramatically, “oh! Sorry, that’s a secret!” Seb burst out laughing. “Oh no!” I laughed, “don’t worry I’ll cut that.” Luckily the camera man turned away as I sunk back into my chair. I really hoped I didn’t leak some super, confidential information about Red Bull or I’d be facing the sack a mere half year into employment.

Sebastian flashed me another smile and squeeze on the shoulder before following the camera man and showing him around some more. When they left I let out an internal sigh. I’d known Seb for the same amount as everybody else here, but I just felt this immediate warmth to him. Once the intimidation had worn off (even now I still felt it) I could tell there was an instant attraction. At points it felt mutual, Seb would openly flirt with me, tease me, I know he was a charmer, but I couldn’t tell if I was being delusional or not. He was cuddly, funny, he always looked so deeply into my eyes whenever I explained something to him. I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with the feelings that would keep me on edge for a full season. The worst thing about it??? I had a boyfriend.

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #Sebastian vettel x oc #Sebastian vettel 2013 #Sebastian vettel x you

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burningvelvet · 1 year ago

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more rambling thoughts about wuthering heights now that i've finished my re-read

1 wuthering heights is basically the looney tunes if the looney tunes were goth. 90% of the novel is people arguing, dying, and running around threatening to kill each other, and often all three of those at once.

2 love how it's filled with dark humor. "he's such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him" is such a camp thing to say about the terminally ill child you abhor and who you spend weeks trying to set up on dates with your dead lover's child so you can steal her property when your son finally dies. heathcliff lecturing his son on Seduction 101 right in front of cathy 2.0, trying ridiculously to play cupid and compel them to fall in love with each other before giving up and just kidnapping her instead... surely he's the most insane brontë man?

3 i can't remember what i had for dinner last night but nelly dean can remember what the weather was like on any given friday twenty years ago (love her and her snarky comments)

4 love how after nelly finishes telling the story to lockwood she's like "any way. so you know cathy 2.0 is single right ;)))" and then cathy 2.0 shows zero interest in him. so then he's like "oh i just remembered i have somewhere to be :/" then fucks off to london for nearly a year then when he comes back nelly is like "nvm as it turns out cathy and hareton are actually soulmates lol who knew! gee, it's a good thing she didn't like you!" and he's just silently suffering. emily was just fucking around here. hindley was the only linton/earnshaw/heathcliff who was wild enough to marry someone who didn't share either his gene pool or his neighborhood.

5 i imagine joseph to look like smeagol from the lotr films but taller

6 [heathcliff, after stabbing his alcoholic arch nemesis and then pushing his servant into the puddle of the blood] "Wash that stuff away; and mind the sparks of your candle—it is more than half brandy!” LMAO

7 this opinion list is just turning out to be a list of the most insane heathcliff moments but truly the novel should've just been called "heathcliff"

8 heathcliff's weird paternal feelings for hareton, saving hareton's life, him saying he would truly love him if only he wasn't hindley's child, basically giving hareton his blessing to love cathy 2.0 toward the end... so oddly endearing

9 heathcliff walking out just before the "i am heathcliff" part of her speech. why WHY

10 hindley protecting isabella from heathcliff before she flees was nice and i wish we saw more of their dynamic around the heights. honestly aside from the child neglect (which is par for the course in wuthering heights) hindley is a pretty sympathetic character; his rivalry with heathcliff was fueled by both sides and truly the fault of their father for pitting them against each other by letting heathcliff usurp hindley's place of favoritism as a boy. hindley's gambling and drinking, his general dissipation and failure to secure his son's future, are all tragic.

11 i think hindley/edgar/heathcliff are all interesting foils for each other; they each lose the women they love and are left to be single fathers, and each responds to the task totally differently. if we include mr. earnshaw, all the fathers in the story essentially fail their children after all the mothers die. hindley and heathcliff have a special parallel through their lifelong brotherly competition, the women they love both dying in childbirth, and in their own deaths. hindley slowly kills himself while ignoring everyone around him; heathcliff also kills himself, but only after trying to systematically ruin the lives of everyone around him. they also say that they want to kill each other but fail when they try; heathcliff nearly kills hindley but ends up saving his life at the last minute.

12 heathcliff jr. is so terrified of heathcliff sr. and so traumatized and petrified by fear and he doesn't deserve the hate he gets for being annoying. he's been sheltered his whole life, his mother just died, he was sent to his uncle/cousin only to be immediately torn away from them to be abused by a stranger who treats him horribly, he's terminally ill, he's still a kid, he's threatened into marrying someone he barely knows, etc.

13 if any of you have seen the british comedy show "the young ones" that's literally hindley's household in wuthering heights when joseph/hareton/hindley/heathcliff/isabella all live together. the filth, the slop for dinner, the petty games, the violence, the fierce hatred yet weird loyalty to each other, etc.

14 i really wonder how cathy would have reacted to heathcliff's treatment of everyone else if only she had known the full details (ie his harsh abuse of isabella, his son, cathy 2.0, etc.)

15 heights was my first brontë novel but i think i like jane eyre and tenant better now that i've read them all back to back! next on the list is likely agnes gray. anne, my underrated queen!

#literature #english literature #wuthering heights #emily brontë #book opinions #bookblr #bronte sisters #heathcliff #books #book thoughts #book review #classic literature #lit #litblr

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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WIBTA if I refuse to do anymore work on the group project we already missed the deadline for, but can still submit?

I am extremely tired of being walked over and doing all the work. I'm a 3rd year uni student and multiple times I've been the main person doing group project work. The latest example is what prompted this ask. Our task was to do a discussion and then write an essay based on it, the group consists of 4 people including me. We talked for 10 minutes at the end of last week and a little bit yesterday. We did the majority of the work yesterday as well.

There are 14 points/questions we need to cover. Multiple people not only are advised to, but must cover the same questions so there's substance to be worked with. While the rest of the group covered some, it's insufficient and I did the majority of the work on the first half of the questions and all of the second half. A worked on 4/14 questions (pretty short answers), B also did 4/14 questions (one longer answer, three pretty short answers), C wrote 2.5/14 questions (2 medium length answers, one single sentence answer) and D, me, did 11/14 (mainly long answers with a couple of shorter ones).

After I made a Google Doc to make communication easier, they submitted their answers and basically ghosted me. I asked multiple times for help but was met with silence or jokes about checking the grammar and typos later for me. Again, we don't have enough substances to work with, the essay CANNOT be completed with what we have so far.

And here's where the issues get deeper. I asked for someone to at least look at what I've written down so far multiple times, proofread it if you will. Silence. I know for a fact A and C were FREE and could've continued working on the project, while B might or might not have been at work. Finally C said they'll do it. We were left with less than an hour to wrap it up and submit it before the deadline at this point.

2 minutes after saying that they'll read it, they sent me a "it's great" message. They shameless lied to my face.

I was inside the Doc the whole time and no other users were shown to be viewing the page, let alone reading 3 lengthy paragraphs in 2 minutes.

At some point during the day I was so desperate, I was ready to delete all I've written, comments, intro and first few paragraphs of the essay, everything and beg to join a different group. But a friend managed to calm me down and I didn't go that route.

I can't write to the professor and explain the situation to him, it's just not an option, that's not a practice in my country when the subject only consists of lectures and the professor has to look after 100+ students. My last hope is tomorrow morning those 3 will see the newest messages of me asking for help to finish it and will help me. If that doesn't happen, well...

What I can do is say fuck it and give them the same treatment they've given me – ghost them, don't do additional work on the questions and essay and take all of us down for not finishing and submitting the final project. I don't really want to do it and fuck up our grades (we have no idea how important this homework is for the final grade) but I genuinely see no other way. So WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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xhollandlilsx · 2 years ago

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Red Card (pt 2) - (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Concept- Leah and Y/N have been broken up for months, but things kick off when Leah gets jealous during the game against Y/Ns team.

Warnings: Shit Ending.

Pt 1 << Here.

“You ready?” Ella asked as I sat down next to her on the bus, we were still waiting for a few players to arrive but because of the cold they let us on the coach early.

“Of course!” I replied excitedly. The recovery period was awful. 6 weeks of not playing, my first training session back I could not keep up, I knew I’d be on the bench at the start of the game, Marc had an idea of me being a ‘Super Sub’.

I’d only been back for one game before international break started and we were thrown into the England base camp, we had a game against

“You heard from-“

“Yep. A good amount of messages and calls”

“Did you answer?” She asked as we waited at a traffic light and I put ABBA on for her.

“Nope.” I sighed, “She tried to talk to me at training this week too, I just walked away, I couldn’t.”

She did refrain from asking any more, when she realised my tone had changed. It hurt me to ignore Leah but she messed up. Big time.

I pulled my AirPods from my England puffer jacket I had wrapped around me, and offered one to Ella. I wanted to get my head in focus, so I put mine in as Ella shrugged and accepted it putting it in her ear.

*******

We got off the coach and I took a deep breath, before stepping off after Lucy, I’d spent the week with Georgia, Lucy and Kiera, whenever they weren’t with Leah. I wasn’t petty, I was pissed off.

I looked into the camera to the right of us as we walked into Wembley, preparing for the game against Brazil. Raised a fist up and silently cheered before laughing and carrying on walking.

We all made our way to the changing room as I walked over to my shirt, putting my duffel bag on the floor. I smiled at my name in big letters along with the number 11, taking a deep breath I left it on its hanger and sat under it, seeing Georgia pull her phone out and take a photo, so I posed for it before grabbing my shin pads and throwing them on under my joggers.

When it was time to go out and warm up, the atmosphere was insane, ever since the euros there has been a massive influx of fans. I jogged over to the other side line, as fans cheered and clapped, I ran along side Alessia and Chloe. All of us running almost in waves to the side line as fans cheered, the three of us ran over and started to pass one of the balls back and forth between us.

“You alright?” I asked Less, as she looked slightly nervous, like something was bothering her.

“Yeah!” She smiled before kicking the ball to Chloe.

After we’d all warmed up, we began to walk back inside. I shoved my hands in my pockets, only taking them out to wave at a few fans sat around the tunnel.

*******

The game kicked off, and I was not in the starting eleven. If I’m honest I didn’t want to be. I liked the idea of being a ‘super sub’ for this game, I knew the way Brazil operated.

I sat on the side rubbing my hands together trying to generate some heat, the whistle blew for the kick off after everyone took the knee.

The game started off with England having most possession, but Brazil were putting up a good fight. I spent most of the first half an hour ruining my vocal chords, screaming and shouting while sat next to Alessia and Nikita.

“We aren’t playing wide enough” Nikita spoke as she watched. I nodded before I saw one of the Brazilian players collide, hard, with Leah.

“Ref!” I shouted from the side line. It was dirty and anyone with eyes could see that. Leah was stopping that player at any opportunity Brazil made, so you could tell the player had enough, “What the fuck!”

I shook my head as I crossed my arms and watched the ref hold up a yellow card, though Leah was limping back into position.

“Serena, how long?” I asked, hoping to go on soon. My eyes stayed trained on Leah, how she was limping.

“Not yet” She shook her head, I trusted her more than anything, I knew she was only keeping me off because of my injury, and worry that I wouldn’t be 100% like I usually am.

******

Half way through the second half I saw Serena wave me over. I quickly threw my bib off and warmed up, running up and down the side line a couple times.

I adjusted my socks before the ref called for the substitution, Chloe ran over to me and high-fived me before whispering ‘number 15’ in my ear. Meaning number 18 is gonna be my biggest problem.

I nodded before jogging on and into position, where there was a throw in being taken.

‘Substitution for England, coming off, number eighteen, Chloe Kelly. Being substituted for number eleven, Y/N Y/L/N.’

It always felt good when fans screamed when your name was called out, but nothing like Wembley. The crowd erupted, making Georgia look at me with a ‘what the-‘ look to which I mirrored.

I tucked my fly always behind my ears and waited for the ref to blow the whistle to start again. When she did we were off.

It didn’t take long for me to get the ball from one of their players, passing it out wide to Ella. I didn’t waste any time in running up the pitch, Ella made it around the players coming at her and attempted a cross, at which when I went to connect my foot to it, I felt a huge shove to the back by a pair of hands making me fall forward to my knees.

“What the fuck!” I shouted standing up again, as the ref blew the whistle, almost squaring up to the girl.

“Não havia nada de errado com isso. Eu mal toquei em você!” She argued to which I lost it.

“Você me empurrou pelas costas! Foda-se cara.” I shook my head as the ref came and stood between us, holding up a yellow card, booking her.

“Back into position!” Leah shouted over the fans cheering at the ref’s decision, I shook my head before walking back into position, fans chanting ‘my’ chant, the reaction from fans never ceases to amaze me, especially when you actually look up and see signs with your name on, or backs with your name on.

Around the 80th minute we were drawing 1-1, Leah had been subbed off due to her limp along with Lauren and Fran. My eyes scanned every player wearing a white shirt and nodded to myself a million plays taking place in my head. I waited until I had the ball at my feet, before passing it long out wide to Ella again, only I just about made it to the edge of the box when a cross came in from Ella.

My foot made contact with it sending it above the goalkeepers hands and into the back of the net. Excitement filling my body as I ran over to the side and jumped turning mid air and pointing to the name on the back of my shirt with my thumbs.

The crowd was ecstatic, I smiled as Georgia jumped into my arms. I lifted her up and laughed as a bunch of the other girls ran over and hugged us too. On my run back to my position I looked over to see Leah cheering too ^^, giving me a proud nod.

I kept my head down for the rest of the game managing two more goals in the space of 11 minutes, including five minutes added time. I couldn’t have done it without the amazing assists from the girls but I was happy for once with the way I’d played.

********

On the walk back to the changing room we made our way to the tunnel, and Kiera jumped on my back, messing my ponytail up.

I shook my head before shrugging her off and smiling at a group of fans with their phones out and holding signs up with my name on it. I saw a little girl smiling with her beanie on a little too low and a United shirt with my name on for me to sign.

I shook my head before pointing to the pen in her hand, and mouthing ‘pen’ to her knowing she wouldn’t hear me over the music and the fans, and she threw it down to me. I saw Leah stop beside me looking up in confusion as to what I was doing.

I took my England shirt from over my head and told Leah to turn around so I could sign it on her back. She did so without any protest, silently hoping this was a sign we were good again. I just knew there was no point being at odds when there’s this many cameras on us.

I signed it and wrapped it up in a ball with the pen and threw it up to the little girl. I saw her begin to cry as I blew her a kiss and waved at a few others before walking inside with Leah and now Georgia.

**********

The game ended on a 2-1 win to England, Lucy and I scoring the goals for England. Once in the changing room after I sat next to Georgia as she was wearing number 10, and we were talking about the game when I saw her look over to the other side of the room and nod.

I followed her eyes but there was a few of them, so I didn’t know who she was nodding to.

“Y’alright?” I asked her to which she nodded and closed her duffel bag.

“Please talk to her. I know what happened, and it was shitty. But please” Georgia begged me before walking out with a few of the other girls, leaving just Leah, Ellie and I.

Although I think Ellie got the picture when she looked between us and excused herself taking her half opened bag with her.

“Y/N.” She started before stopping obviously not having planned this out, “You have every reason to hate me. Like really hate me. I already hate myself, If I could take it back I would, I don’t even know what came over me. I was blind with anger.”

“Why?”

“W-when I saw you… with Russo. I lost it… I thought you’d moved on, and I couldn’t bare to see you move on. I know it’s selfish.” She sighed sitting opposite me, resting her elbows on her knees like I was.

“Leah you fractured my ribs.” I told her, with a heavy breath, “Alessia told me you had been giving her the cold shoulder all week too. I told you time and time again when we were together that I had no interest in Less. That I only wanted you, but you never accepted that. But what you did, Leah…”

“I know. God Y/N I know, I hate myself for what I did, when I saw you in that hospital room I was disgusted with myself, and I know I was a dick to you, but Y/N I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I just… I’m not asking you to be with me, I just need you to hear that I’m sorry.”

“I hear you.” I nodded, my tone a little more blunt than I intended to be, before picking my duffel bag up from the floor and attempting to walk out of the door to my left when she shot up and stopped me by placing her hands either side of my cheeks, with a ‘no…’.

We both stumbled slightly before she placed her forehead against mine, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Im sorry, I’m sorry.”

She repeated like a prayer whispering, as I closed my eyes, as much as she hurt me, I couldn’t deny the full feeling in my heart, the small ache when she stood so close to me. We’ve all done things we regret when angry, said things, punched things, threw things, but this wasn’t something I was gonna take lightly.

The way her hair eyes watered as she let a small sob interrupt her ‘sorry’s’. I wrapped my arms around her waist as she wrapped hers around my neck, I sighed, realising no matter what happens, I will love this girl with every fibre of my being.

I knew I couldn’t forgive her fully yet, but I also knew I couldn’t stay mad at her, I wanted to forgive her, but I had to take the first step.

Acceptance.

A/N: I hate this. I hate the ending but oh well, Bon appetite.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo #ella toone #lionesses #wlw imagine #football #lgbtlove #lucy bronze #georgia stanway #england

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blockgamepirate · 5 months ago

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Techno's Minecraft Mondays!

Just wanted to give some more video recs: IMO the best weeks from Techno's POV are

week 1 with ShotGunRaids

week 3 with Ava Kris Tyson (she/her!) (note: this is pre-transition)

week 6 with Jschlatt

week 10 with Phil

Other weeks are also great but if you don't feel like watching all of them, these four would be my recs

Techno made his own highlights videos of weeks 1, 2, 3 and 14:

Jschlatt made a highlights video of week 6:

youtube

Phil made a highlights video of week 10:

youtube

^ All of these are great, can recommend. Week 10 is basically a must watch tbh, it's the beginning of a beautiful friendship (I actually prefer to watch the full VOD from Techno's POV but I included Phil's highlights video for people who don't have the time to watch the whole two and a half hours)

I also have a handy playlist for all of Techno's MCM VODs if you do wanna watch everything in full, unedited:

If you do though, I have a few potentially helpful content notes (these are from two years ago so they're not up to date but it's a start)

Week 5 Techno teamed with CallMeCarson but thankfully for most of the VOD they aren't together

If any of you would like to skip the Carson content, here's a handy list of timecodes and a summary so you can skip to the good bits:

20:06 Carson leaves

23:52 Carson comes back

28:35 Carson is muted

34:10 Techno joins team 11's call to find Carson

39:12 I think this is when Carson leaves the call?

48:15 Techno joins Carson again

48:57 Leaves the call

1:11:59 Carson comes back

1:14:50 Carson leaves again

1:16:30 And he's back

1:18:05 And he leaves for the last time

1:43:40 Techno attempts to contact Carson one last time but notices that Carson has left the server entirely

Summary: it's basically just Carson bullying Techno as a joke, which he did warn Techno he was gonna do ahead of time, except it gets very awkward very quickly and Techno hates it and asks Carson to stop but he just doesn't stop. Also it involved him spamming Techno with soundboard messages, most famously "Hey, Technoblade!" which became a meme. Also he tried to teamkill Techno a bunch, which led to Techno losing pretty badly in the first game

Techno spends most of the tournament either just doing solo commentary or hanging out in other teams' calls.

The parts without Carson are still great! Special shoutout to that last game where Techno plays hunger games solo

Also a warning for repeated jokes about a particular disease from AntVenom when Techno joins his and Jordan's call during MCM5. It's during Dropper if you wanna skip that

Other notes:

The first three weeks I would recommend maybe not reading the ingame chat too much if you don't wanna see people hating on Techno. Week 2 and week 3 are especially bad IIRC. But if you don't watch other POVs or read the chat you're mostly fine.

Also I wanna give a content warning for like a lot of food talk and also talk about not eating in week 4 (James talks a bunch about food and eats on stream and Techno has a running joke about not getting fed unless he wins)

I won't bother listing all his teammates. If Techno is teaming with someone you don't want anything to do with; unless it's Carson you're probably just gonna have to skip that week entirely.* Carson is the only one who Techno spends long periods of time not talking to, everybody else he's in VC with pretty much the whole time

(* actually week 14 might still be worth watching despite the teammate (Wisp). That one used to be on my recs list and I only took it off just now because of Wisp, but the highlights video really doesn't have that much of him in it and mostly everybody's just in a massive group call so I think it's fine? It's on the first playlist I linked. For the VOD maybe skip to about 1:01:00 and watch from there?)

Anyway I'm not gonna tell you what to do, I still feel fine about watching those weeks despite the teammates*, because the streams are mostly fine out of context as far as I can remember and it's not like I'm giving them views when I'm just watching Techno's POV, but if you don't feel comfortable doing that, that's understandable and you can skip those weeks.

(* this was written two years ago, I would probably skip week 13 now just because I personally can't handle hearing that guys voice anymore, not that there's anything bad in that VOD from what I can remember (it used to be one of my faves rip))

(Hopefully there isn't anything big that I'm forgetting)

#this is an old post but i remade it so i could make some updates #technoblade #mcm #Youtube

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wibixthecowboy · 2 years ago

Text

Play the Song: Chapter 12: As we Breathe

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, choking, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV

A/N: I know what you all want and I am here to give it to you. Enjoy my two, severely emotionally underdeveloped loves interacting in (somewhat) non-deadly scenarios.

Words: 6.7k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Tag list: @urfavsunkissedleo @butskii @abbiesxox @itsasecrets-things @thatonewriterthatnooneknows @copiasratscheese @Sheviro-blog

★Flash

“Will you just take the fucking applesauce?” Gaz’s voice is bordering a whine and Flash doesn’t feel the least bit guilty when she declines again. She is hungry, but her hunger doesn’t outweigh her need for entertainment. For something other than the dusty novel she’d snatched from Price weeks ago and the small window to her left.

For the last three days, she’s been stuck in her bed. Her only solace being short trips to the bathroom and the horrible nurse service being provided in shifts by Soap and Gaz. Both arrive either so guilt ridden or angry that their conversations are reduced to mumbled words.

After she’d passed out in the truck- passed out, not died, (a correction she’s had to make every time Soap decides to give her another rundown of what he likes to call her ‘Rick Grimes’ moment) the team was able to stop enough of the bleeding and get her to the nearest med bay before her heart stopped pumping.

She’d been kept sedated for the next four days, lulled into a hazy half conscious state by a concoction of epinephrine, morphine, and god knows what else. The magic drug- a more advanced and highly addictive form of a stim shot, had practically healed everything. By the third night, she’d been able to lay on her back without pain, and by the fourth, her injuries were reduced to bruising and two half healed and itching cuts on her shoulder blades and forehead. When the doctors had given her the order to ‘take it easy’ and ‘stay in bed for a few more days’ she’d nearly laughed in their faces. But after an awkward ride back to the base with Price, it was made clear that she’d be on her ass until the doctors cleared her.

Since then, she’s been rotting away in bed. With the fog of a rather severe concussion gone and only a slight wobble in her step, Flash felt confident enough to get back into training. Others, not so much.

“Stop coddling me and I just might.” Her words, although bitter, are spoken through a half smile. The joints of her legs ache with the need to move. She can’t remember the last time she’d gone longer than a day without some sort of physical exercise.

“Oh for fucks sake. Just take it.” Gaz lets out a frustrated groan and tosses the container and spoon at her blanketed legs. They land just shy of the unread paperback by her shin. A copy of ‘True Grit’ that Price had silently handed to her after she’d begged him to let her join their next raid. “Maybe Ghost will spoon feed it to you if you ask nicely enough.”

His hand freezes against the door handle and Flash’s eyes widen. That was the first Ghost had been mentioned since the incident. After his freak out. No one had spoken to her about it, so she didn’t bring it up. Other than foggy memories of him sleeping in a chair next to her bed at the med bay- his head lolled to the side in a way that made her knees weak. Ghost had been absent.

“Just eat the food.” Gaz says nothing more before slipping from her room and shutting the door gently behind him.

Guilt coils her stomach into a tight knot and the game that she’d been playing for the last few days loses its appeal.

The applesauce is dull and pasty, and when she swallows, it sticks in her throat like mud. The first night she’d woken up from her drugged sleep, she willed her memory to clear, to give her a picture of Ghost’s face that wasn’t blurred with tears and blood loss. But it was useless. After that, avoiding thinking about the last few moments in the truck had been easy. Until now.

Although every sense of hers had been compromised, her brain had no problem recalling every point of contact that Ghost had made. As if her body remembering the gentle way he held her hand against his cheek was more important than remembering to breathe. As if it still is. The healing drugs didn’t touch the burns left by his desperate hands.

The scraping of her spoon against the nearly empty plastic cup does nothing to drown out the now crashing waves of memories. Him grasping at her legs and shoulders to haul her to the truck, begging her to keep her eyes open, removing his mask. The last bite of her applesauce tastes of brine and copper and it gags her. When she coughs the skin of her hand comes back splattered with shining red. Stumbling to the bathroom, Flash drops to the blessedly cool tile in front of the toilet but the food weighs heavily in her stomach, refusing to move despite the foul taste in her mouth. When she looks down there’s a splatter of pureed apple across her right hand where the blood stained just moments ago.

Avoiding her two mirrors, Flash rinses her hands, ties her hair back, and changes her clothes for the first time in three days. She needs out, and god help anyone who tries to stop her.

_____

The hot Las Almas sun burns the sensitive skin of Flash’s scabbed and stitched shoulders and sends a steady stream of sweat gliding down her spine that drops to the dusty dirt road just a few minutes from their base. She’d found it while stalking Ghost on one of his runs after a dull morning of training. Now it serves as the perfect place for her to slip away unnoticed and run until her feet bleed.

She’d been going for about an hour already, entranced by the steady thump of her braid against her back as she let the hot afternoon sun dry the waves that so violently threatened to pull her under. An angry, clouding storm of failure covers every expanse of her mind. She’d failed the one chance she’d been given. Price had finally given her an in, a way to prove what she’d so desperately been trying to show them, and she’d blown it in less than an hour.

A familiar crunch of tires sounds from behind her and she moves to the edge of the rough dirt road, giving the truck room to pass, but it slows to match her pace. When she glances over, she nearly stumbles on a loose stone. Ghost is sat in the driver's seat, one arm steering at the base of the wheel and the other holding a bottle of water out the window.

“You don’t have to say anything, just take the water and I’ll leave.” His voice is withdrawn, quiet in a way that tells Flash that he understands her need for silence. And when she takes the bottle from his bare hand, the faded scars only prove her right.

He watches her drink and she pretends not to notice as the water wets her parched mouth and throat. When she finishes that one, he gently pulls it from her grasp and another is pressed into her empty hand. Flash sips this time, breathing deeply between swallows, catching the breath she hadn’t noticed she’d lost. His gaze falls to her shaking knees and the shivering of her strained thighs and she waits for him to admonish her, to order her back to the base and put a padlock on the door this time, but he only turns away to set the empty bottle somewhere in the back seat.

“Do you want to drive with me?”

The question catches her off guard. The softness with which its spoken, still detached and hesitant but sentimental nonetheless. She opens her mouth to deny, admit that she’s ran this far to be alone, but the aching in her chest tugs towards him like a magnet.

Silently, she rounds the car, slides into the passenger seat, and Ghost continues driving wordlessly down the path, at a leisurely unhurried speed. With the windows down, the hair that had fallen from her braid flutters around her face in the light wind, tickling the bare and damp skin of her neck. She licks the dry skin of her lips and tastes the salt beaded at the bow of her mouth.

The slow roll of sand dunes calms the racing of her heart and she syncs her breathing to their soft shapes, in with the incline and out with the descent. Her sweat slick legs stick uncomfortably to the warm leather seat but the relief of resting her strained muscles surpasses the discomfort.

Flash closes her eyes against the bright setting sun, oranges and yellows shine brightly in the sudden darkness and the knot in her stomach loosens enough that she can fill her lungs completely. Fresh air, spun with the sappy golden light spilling across the desert blows across her face and cools the twin trails trickling over the curves of her cheeks. Salt spreads across her tongue, but this time it carries something much heavier. They come faster now, rivulets running and turning into streams that course over her chin and down her neck, bleeding into the sweat soaked collar of her shirt. She doesn’t open her eyes as the crushing weight of the fear she’d felt sets in. So she cries. She cries for what could have happened, what would have happened if she hadn’t pulled herself from the water, and hates every second of it.

Then a warm hand is nudging her own. Ghost, in a silent mimic of her gesture from days before, wraps his smallest finger around her own and squeezes. The fear lessens, pulling back to a dull throb against her ribcage. She doesn’t open her eyes as she unwraps their pinkies and slides her hand into his to lock their fingers in a tight hold. His hand envelops her own, warm and comforting, and she fastens herself to him like a tether to a dock. Afraid that if she lets go she just might drift out of reach.

They say nothing as they cling to each other, and Flash doesn’t dare turn her now open eyes to Ghost, afraid that she’ll snap their tether by acknowledging it. So she keeps her gaze on the pinks and purples sprawled across the dimming sky and tries to ignore the burning disappointment when one final turn brings the familiar concrete building into view.

“Can we do one more loop, I can’t- I-” She begins to ask, faltering when Ghost obliges without hesitation. And a burning sense of endearment spreads so quickly through her that the stinging behind her eyes recedes. Blinking away the thick tears still lining her lids, Flash sniffs once and then sags further into her seat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His question is a formal invitation, an obligated question. One she’s been asked on multiple occasions and refused each time. She could ignore it now and it wouldn’t be brought back up, she knows that for a fact. But whether it's the burning need to confess or the lack of social interaction, Flash feels the confession loose from her mouth in a stream that she can’t seem to stop.

“I killed him with a rock.” Even though the words are spoken by her, the depravity of the statement makes her heart stutter. “When I missed with my knife I just smashed his head in with a rock.” The memory flashes through her mind, a stunted and bloody reel of pictures. “It was too easy.”

A long stretch of silence fills the space between them and Flash can’t help but worry he’ll slam on the breaks and shove her out, tell her just how damaged she must be to resort to something so animalistic, so beyond human norm. The weight of his hand in hers grows cold and she has the sudden urge to tuck herself into the small space at her feet, away from the heavy words floating between them and the piercing blue eyes at her side.

“When you know someone coming to kill you Flash, everything turns primal. It’s not something you learn through lectures. I’m sorry you had to learn so quickly.” His words are like a balm to her nerves. Petting back the raised hackles of her mind. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“It’s the SAS Ghost. Things happen. I won't always have someone there to save the day.” She speaks firmly but turns to Ghost with a sad smile, the action has the dried tracks of her tears itching. When she brings her empty hand up to wipe her cheeks, the dirt lining her fingers has her squeezing it back under her thigh.

He lapses back into his familiar silence and Flash tries not to think about the dirt wiping from her hand onto his own clean skin where their palms meet. Then becomes increasingly aware of the dust clinging to her thighs and arms and how it rubs off onto the dark surfaces of the truck. Ghost doesn’t say anything. His unoccupied hand taps lightly against the steering wheel, another quirk that Flash quickly learned meant he was picking his words carefully.

“Knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it any easier to cope with.” The tires crunch as dirt turns into gravel, they’re just minutes away from the base now.

His words, although validating in their own way, crack open a spot in her steeled mind that she is nowhere near ready to unravel. So instead of responding, she closes her eyes and lays back against the seat, focusing on holding the now cool night air in her lungs. She grips Ghost’s hand steadfastly. When they pull into the lot this time, her mind feels clearer and when she releases his hand to go inside, she feels a little less broken.

_____

★Ghost

Although her eyes are focused on Price, taking in every word he speaks with an endearing efficiency, Ghost still watches them. Searching for the voided, lost look that most recruits adopted after their first incident. The look that he’d seen hints of while driving with her hours before. But the blue remains sharp as they scan the layout of the next warehouse they’d be raiding. A dilapidated barn just a few miles from Alejandro’s ranch. They would leave tomorrow to spend the next two days planning their approach with Alejandro and his team. His bag, packed the moment he got back from their drive, waits next to his door. It was his desperate attempt to keep himself in his room. To keep himself busy so he didn’t cross through the bathroom and to Flash’s door to press his ear against the wood. Just to make sure she was still there, still breathing.

It was easy to brush off at first. The shaking was from strained muscles and elevated heart rate from his morning jog. But that day, when she’d come over the hill looking half dead, still clutching a bloodied rock, the fear, and dread that gagged him was undeniable. The anxiety that shook his experienced hands as he attempted to wrap unwilling bandages over a seemingly unending expanse of flowing blood was beyond uncharacteristic. Soap had taken the gauze from his hands and shoved him to the side, working with Gaz to stop the bleeding. Her clouded, half-lidded gaze had sent him into a shaking, gasping sort of fit and it was Soap who had ripped the pill bottle from Ghost’s pocket and shoved two of the pills into his palm with shaking, bloodied hands before returning to monitoring Flash’s heart rate.

After getting her to the med bay and stabilized, he’d remained at her side for the entire stay. The gentle flutter of her eyelashes was his only respite as she drifted in and out of a drugged sleep. The only time he left her side was to slip into the staff bathroom and to down another cup of the never-ending supply of dirt instant coffee the front office kept. Price had ordered him back to the base hours before she was to be taken off the sedative. It was a short exchange over the phone, gruff, tired, and ending in a snapped command.

When Price returned with her that night, Ghost had been waiting in the window. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, but when he saw the way Price had to practically lift her from the passenger seat and brace her as she limped to the door, he’d retreated back to his room, unable to look at the bandages at her temple, ones he wasn’t capable of tying. Instead choosing to curl against his headboard and choke on uneven breaths until a drug haze pulled him under.

Looking at her now, nothing like the small girl, pale skinned and drowned in hospital blankets, the beating of his heart doesn’t slow. Soap, next to him, is doodling small flowers on the mission summary and Gaz sitting beside Flash, is tugging at her sleeve. After one particularly harsh tug, she whips around in her chair and levels him with a harsh glare, when she goes to turn back, her eyes catch his. The irritation melts from her brow and Ghost struggles to keep his breath steady when his gaze drops to the blue-green bruise that still curves along her cheekbone. Flash catches his line of sight and lets the hair tucked behind her ear fall into her face, covering the bruising entirely when she turns back to Price. But the image remains, permanently branded against the large corner of his mind she’s always occupying.

They go on like that for the rest of the meeting. Eyes occasionally meeting only to hover for a moment before flitting away. Acting like he hadn’t just watched her shatter in the small cab of his truck an hour before. He knew better than to push though, the need to just forget was more familiar to him than it should be. So he watches her take notes instead, careful little words in the spaces between paragraphs with a pencil he now recognizes as his own. Stolen from the space next to his paper, he hadn’t even noticed. And despite everything, amusement flickers in his chest, and a familiar warmth tightens his ribs. Ghost dips his head down to level his eyes with Flash, glancing at the pencil in her hands and up to her waiting gaze. She smiles at him. It’s half done, morphed into a slight grimace from the split in her lip, but it still carries her usual air of mischief. And he thinks that maybe, things might be okay.

_____

★Flash

Flash is brushing her teeth when she sees Ghost again. Her hair still damp and curling from the shower she’d taken to scrub the dried sweat and dust from her skin. She’d also braved a look in the mirror. A small blue-purple bruise curves along her skin between her cheekbone and eye, a half healed split at her lower lip, and a stitched line at her temple were all that remained of her encounter. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but better than she’d been expecting. Her shower though, had run out of her allotted bathroom time and into Ghosts. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but when it did, he would politely apologize and leave her to finish.

But now, dressed in joggers and a delightfully worn shirt, he hovers in the open doorway. She wonders if he feels it. The pull.

He’s about to turn and leave when Flash finds herself mumbling through a mouthful of toothpaste, “Don’t leave I’m almost done.” She’s not quite sure why she asks him to stay, but she does.

Flash can’t help but smile at the way his socked feet shuffle awkwardly against the tile, not sure where to stand. It’s incredibly sweet, and the softness of the action only strengthens the pull that begs her to step forward and into him.

“So,” Flash starts, spitting her toothpaste into the sink before continuing to lazily brush in half circles, “do I get to see your face now? Or is that something you reserve for people who are near death?” In one smooth movement, she’s resting on the counter in front of him, hoping the toothbrush hanging from her lips hides the wince as her sore muscles strain. “Ya know, like a ‘I can show you but then I’d have to kill you’ type a’ situation?”

Ghost is silent, unresponsive to her prodding. Any other night he would have told her to drop it and go to bed. Maybe give her a snarky response if she’s lucky. But tonight he’s quiet, just as before. And then she sees it. The way his shoulders curve inward and the flickering of his eyes as they move to look at anything that isn’t her.

“You know it's not your fault right?” Flash’s voice is soft, the same one she’d use to coax a scared dog from a corner.

“What?” A whisper.

“It’s not your fault.” She slides from the counter, leaving her toothbrush next to the basin, she walks quietly towards him. Cautious, slow enough for him to back away, she reaches up to brush a hand against his face. It’s a daring move but he doesn’t pull away.

The cotton of the mask is warm from being so close to the heated skin of his cheeks. Golden lashes brush against them and their freckled surface as his lids shutter closed. Flash drinks in the rare moment of softness. Her mind drifts back to her last few moments in the truck, how warm the skin of his face had been and suddenly, she’s never wanted anything more in her life.

“Can I touch-” Her words breathe out into the empty space between them and Ghost’s eyes fly open, wide and searching her own.

“Blindfold, I - can you wear a blindfold?” His words are stuttered and rushed with a desperation she can’t even begin to understand. Flash offers him a silent nod and then the space in front of her is empty.

She lifts herself back onto the counter, just to busy herself as she listens to the opening of a drawer and the quiet whisper of him digging through clothes in his room. He returns with a beautifully patterned terracotta scarf. Like the one’s she’d seen at the market. He sets it gently in her lap but she pushes it back into his hands.

“Here, you can tie it. So you know I’m not peeking.”

He nods once before taking the brown fabric with shaking hands and folding it into a neat strip and leaning in close to wrap it gently around her eyes. Flash senses his hesitation as he pauses before tying the knot. Wary of the bruise beneath her eye. She gives her best reassuring smile and it seems to do the trick.

“Is that too tight?” He whispers and Flash shivers as his breath fans across her ear, light and warm.

“No. It’s perfect.”

There’s a gentle rustle of fabric and then his mask is resting on her lap. Nerves beat her heart up into her throat.

“Are you scared?” Her whisper is careful, spoken into the quiet space between them. A question spoken to him but a silent admission of her own.

“Yes.”

“It's only me.” She can’t help but smile at his honesty.

“That’s what I’m scared of.”

“Can I touch you?” She murmurs, and he hums a confirmation. It’s a quiet, broken noise.

A soft sigh breaks the silence when the pads of her searching fingers meet his cheek and draw upwards to a rather prominent cheekbone. She can’t help but smile at the heat she feels beneath her fingers, he’s blushing.

Quick breaths come from his nose, followed by two long exhales. Subtle enough that if she weren’t inches from his face would have gone unnoticed, but his warm breath falls against the small strip of her cheeks left uncovered by the scarf. Her heart swells in her chest when she realizes he’s attempting to calm himself.

“Why do you keep trying?”

His words catch her off guard and her exploring fingers come to a halt at his browbone. A displeased huff urges them on and to a soft brow. Flash takes a moment to think, but it doesn’t take her long to find a response.

“Because you deserve to heal.” Ghost turns his head into her hand, muffling a groan. It’s a noise unlike anything she’s ever heard before. An amalgamation of sadness and desperation that makes the blood in her veins slow to listen.

“Has no one ever told you that?”

“No.” He speaks into her palm, hiding his face as if she could see him through the scarf.

“Well, you do.” She smiles softly and flinches in surprise when his thumb brushes against the soft skin of her lower lip. He pulls back quickly,

“Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re fine.” Flash reaches down and grabs for his hand, bringing his thumb up to her lips again when she finds it. He takes a shuddering breath and she wishes for just a moment that she could pull the blindfold up from her eyes and look at him, see the way his body is reacting to her touch, rather than feeling, and hearing it.

“Your smile.” His thumb parts the plush of her lips, so gently she almost doesn’t feel it.

“What about it?” She can’t help but laugh at his odd remark.

His face under her hand moves, and a familiar divot forms under her ring finger.

“Oh good lord you have dimples?” She breathes against his hand.

“Just on the left.” His words are murmured, shy if she thought he was capable of such an innocent emotion. And in the warm darkness of the bathroom, without seeing the scars on his hands or the dazed look his eyes so often held, she realizes just how innocent he is. The boyish way he holds her face, similar to the way a child learning to write struggles to grip a pencil. Like the concept of touching someone without the intent of harm is as foreign to him as a new language. And the realization absolutely crushes her.

“Freckles, dimples, blue eyes. You must be a real stunner.” She teases, an awful attempt to fight the burning behind her eyes. The skin beneath her hand warms again and the overwhelming urge to throw herself into him is consuming, to wrap herself so tightly around him that their skin fuses and they become one. The thought is as terrifying as it is tempting.

“Far from it.”

She frowns at his words but the hand on her face smooths her brow in a gentle caress. Her next exhale comes shakily through her nose.

Braving the waters, Flash traces up the soft curve of his cheek and her fingers catch on slightly raised skin, silkier than the rest, a scar. It travels from his left cheekbone to his hairline just above his eyebrow.

“How did this happen?” Her imploring question is light and spoken without pressure. He could leave it unanswered if he wished.

“My father.” His response is quiet but it’s a scream to her ears. Images of him as a child, a defenseless teen screaming as he clutched his head in pain fill her mind in a rush. She quickly moves on. Feeling for more, battle-oriented scars, but she feels none.

“Do you have any more?”

A rumbling laugh vibrates down her arm and warms her chest.

“Plenty. Although the reconstructive surgeries helped, there’s always going to be a mark.”

“Where?”

A gentle hand reaches for hers and guides her fingers in an arc from the corner of his mouth to a point near his hairline. She traces the spot over on her own until she feels the slight change in texture, the jagged shape that whatever had cut him left behind. She didn’t dare ask its origin.

“Your scars make mine seem like papercuts.” A nervous laugh blows past her lips.

“And I hope it stays that way.” He glides warm fingers just inches from the stitches on her temple. “You already have enough.”

“Nothing near as cool as yours.” She protests, tracing his cheek once more to emphasize her point.

The room is silent, and for just a moment, she thinks she's ruined it and then he’s laughing again. Stuttered like he hasn’t had enough practice, and Flash wishes he’d never stop.

“What?” She asks, incredulous.

“I’ve never had someone call my scars cool.” The stuttered laughs come through his nose now, in gentle breaths of air that warm her own cheeks.

Another mostly nervous laugh looses from her parted lips at the absurdity of their situation. If someone told her a year ago, as she unabashedly stared at Ghost giving his lecture, that she’d be on the counter of their shared bathroom, blindfolded and committing his face to memory with her hands she’d probably laugh. And then file a report.

Flash smiles shyly before bringing her other hand up to gently cup his face, eager to change the topic. “Is this normal?” She breathes as he leans further into her, now pressing against the counter space between her legs. Heat radiates from him, warming her in a way she’s never felt before.

“Is what normal?”

“Wanting to touch you so badly my chest aches.” The admission makes her heart stutter in embarrassment and something warm and syrupy slows the muscles of her mouth.

“I don’t think so.” His answer is mumbled, and before she can feel the sting of rejection, he’s pressing his forehead to hers in an almost feline gesture.

Their lips are just inches away, all she’d have to do is tilt her head up and they’d be kissing. The thought sends her heart thumping so painfully that her stomach rolls with nerves. Enough that she just savors the closeness they have already.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She whispers to him with a nervous smile and instantly regrets it. There’s just something about his presence that loosens her tongue in ways it shouldn’t.

But then Ghost is laughing again and pressing his forehead harder against her own. “Me too.”

And the confession is orchestral.

Her arms reach from where they’re pinned between them and up into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A muffled moan is pressed into the skin of her neck so she does it again, a gentle scrape through his hair. Tremors wrack his body in waves. Then he’s pulling away and her hands are slipping from his shoulders too soon.

“Off the counter, face the mirror.” Although his voice is still soft and shaken, it’s demanding enough that Flash doesn’t protest. She feels him reach around her for something on the counter, muscled chest pressing close to her shoulder.

“I’m getting some deja vu.” Ghost’s murmur is quiet and entirely self-indulgent.

“To what?” Flash’s brows furrow in confusion under the soft silk.

“Well uh-” His words stumble out, unprepared. “That night you took that pill?”

Flash’s stomach sinks and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth when she responds. “Uh-huh.”

“You were struggling a bit with cleaning the scratches. You couldn’t even hold the cloth.”

“Oh god.” Even with the scarf on her face, Flash still has to drop her head in her hands. “I didn’t do anything weird? Did I?” She thinks back to the table that morning, Soap's laughing and Ghost's not so subtle smile.

“No.” Ghost runs a finger slick with a paste that she quickly recognizes as the salve the doctor had given her for sore joints over her skin. Far from the scratches and cuts on her shoulders. She practically purrs at his touch combined with the cooling effect of the paste. “But you’re very touchy.”

Embarrassment floods hot through her chest and she starts to apologize but Ghost interrupts her again.

“Don’t apologize.” Those fingers drift up and to an unblemished space just past her shoulder. “Just be quiet and let me make up for my mistake.”

“You don’t have to-” Her words end in a sharp moan when his fingers dig into a tender spot against her neck. “Holy shit.” His fingers fumble a bit but he regains his composure quickly, returning back to the spot and rubbing delightful small circles against the knot. “Jesus-” Her mumbling is cut off with a soft hush and she finally gives in, dropping her chin to the heated skin of her chest as he loosens the muscles that had grown stiff after days in bed. When he reaches a spot along the arch of her spine, smoothing deep half circles into the muscle there, a broken whine falls involuntarily from her mouth. It’s entirely pathetic but she’s too far gone to care. This last sound seems to signal him though and he’s stepping back, dropping those magic hands from her lower back.

“Okay.” His voice is breathy ghost of a whisper and despite never seeing his face, Flash knows that if she were to pull the blindfold from her eyes, he’d be shaking and casting his eyes to the floor, those precious strawberry blonde curls falling across his forehead, and cheeks ruddy with the warm blush she’d felt just minutes before. But she leaves it tied neatly against her damp hair, even though her fingers itch to slide the soft fabric from her eyes.

There’s a rustling, Ghost is reaching past her to grab something from the counter and she can practically smell the anxiety leaking from his skin, along with something else she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Is that citrus?” She tries not to sound too surprised, she shouldn’t be. It had been one of the first things she’d noticed when flopping herself onto his bedding. Something she did not want to think about.

“It’s uh- oranges?” He sounds unsure, Flash is about to point this out but he continues. “My mum wore it.” There’s another brief pause. She can practically hear his internal debate over whether or not he should continue. “It’s- It helps with- anxiety.”

“Oh.” She stands there for another moment, not wanting to leave quite yet, but not having anything to say. He doesn’t move either, just stands quietly in front of her. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

Gentle fingers slide the scarf from her eyes, the light of the bathroom is blinding and she has to blink several times to clear the dots from her vision. When her eyes finally focus, she cranes her head upward from the soft cotton of his chest. Ghost’s eyes are staring into the mirror above her, at himself. There’s a small strip of exposed skin between his shirt and balaclava. She can see the collarbone that she’d whispered to so many nights ago.

“I’m going to bed.” She says to the strip, and without looking back at his face, turns and walks as calmly as she can to her room. Even though the racing of her heart screams at her to run, to hide, to grab him by his stupid masked face and kiss him.

The last thought scares her enough that she shuts the bathroom door with a bit too much force. The sound makes her jump. It’s entirely pathetic but the creeping sickness from this morning is gone, replaced with something much much worse. Something deadly, something terrifying, something that makes her want to laugh and cry. So she does both.

It doesn’t help.

_____

Flash can’t wipe the love-sick smile off her face as she walks to their small kitchen. Her water bottle swinging in time with her steps.

“He won’t always be like that.”

The metal bottle clangs loudly against the concrete when her hand slackens in surprise.

“What?” She breathes, heart beating wildly in her chest.

“I said, he won't always be like that.” Soap says from the small couch in the ‘living room’. He’s draped himself lazily over the arm and is flicking through an old copy of the ‘New Yorker’. A cartoonish drawing of pointing Uncle Sam is printed on the front under bold red letters reading ‘I WANT YOU’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says calmly, swiping her bottle from the floor and continuing towards the sink, averting her eyes from the dramatic cartoon.

“Oh don’t play coy. You’re smiling like a fuckin’ teenager in love Lass. I know.” His tone isn’t accusing, if anything it's bored. Like he couldn’t be bothered to finish the conversation he’d started. “He’s true to his name. He’ll be kissing you like he needs you to breathe, and then the next mornin’ float right by you. Stings like a bitch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“How do you know?” She asks over the flowing tap. “Did you two...” Her half question drifts, waiting for him to pick up. It takes the metal burning into her palm for Flash to realize the water is steaming, she tips the bottle over and starts again.

“Were we together?” He flips another page, casual, like he’s not admitting to fucking his best friend. “I guess you could call it that.”

“He wasn’t interested in that... stuff?” She thinks back to the way his hands trembled the first time he’d touched her, and the way he practically vibrates when their bodies come within inches of each other.

“No,” a devilish chuckle comes from behind the paper “we didn’t have trouble in that department.”

“So you were a thing?” She asks and is blindsided by a sudden burning in her chest. It curls around to tense the line of her shoulders, bringing them closer to her ears like raised hackles.

He finally lowers the magazine and shakes his head at her reaction. “No need to get possessive. It lasted about two months before he realized that fucking every ten minutes wouldn’t fix his shit load of issues.” His words immediately drench her in a cool wave, and an embarrassing guilt flushes high in her cheeks, along with a biting sympathy at his confession. “My feelings were unrequited, unfortunately.” He gives her a sad smile. “He needs someone who isn’t broken. He needs someone who can guide him out of the shit storm he’s been led into.” The magazine is flipped back open and brought back up, his tone turns curious. “Someone like you.”

She starts to deny, to tell him that she is far from unbroken, but Soap waves another hand at her.

“Don’t bother, I don’t care.” A plain lie. “I just wanted to warn you. He can be-” a pregnant pause splits his words, “he can be challenging. He’s got a cargo container of shit that he hasn’t even begun to unpack. It can lead to some pretty rough mood swings.” Soap puts the magazine back down. “What I’m trying to say is he’s a real piece of work, but if anyone deserves the help, it’s him. I just hope you’re the right person.”

Flash can hear the unspoken words ring through the air between them.

‘Because I wasn’t’

When Flash reaches Ghost’s door in the bathroom, away from the prying eyes still pretending to read the old magazine, she knocks softly, waits a few moments, and then knocks again. There’s no response.

He’s blocked himself off again.

Disappointed and trying not to think of Soap’s words, Flash slinks dejectedly back to lie in her bed. Her IPod still lay on her nightstand, nestled in the center of a neatly swirled nest of wires. Right where Ghost had put it her first night there.

Then for some reason, imagining him taking the time to do something so unimportant with so much care, for her no less, sends a wave of something nearing homesickness through her. A brittle sort of feeling. And for the first time in over five years, Flash has the urge to call her sister.

“This is not good.”

A/N: AHHH MY AWKWARD LITTLE BABIES. I hoped you loved this as much as I loved writing it. God I love unhinged relationships, they’re just *chefs kiss*.

#Ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #SImon riley #Cod fic #Simon Ghost Riley #Alejandro Vargas #Valeria #Modern Warfare 2 #Ghost stories #Headcannons #John soap mactavish #John Price #MW2 #Gaz Garrick

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