#ambs answers
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sgt-seabass · 2 years ago
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How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?
đ’”đ’ïżœïżœïżœïżœđ’†đ’‘đ’đ’†đ’”đ’”
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✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.
pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.
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The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.
The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.
You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.
Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.
It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.
He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?
There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?
Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.
Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.
For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.
If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.
But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 
Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.
Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.
After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.
Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.
It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.
Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.
“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.
“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.
Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”
Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”
“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.
There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.
Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”
Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”
“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”
There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”
“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 
“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”
Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.
Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”
“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”
“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.
Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”
“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”
“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.
But was it really that easy?
The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.
Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.
After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 
You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha
?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.
“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”
You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”
“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.
Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.
“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.
Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”
You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”
“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 
The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.
Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”
Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.
“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.
You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.
Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”
Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.
“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.
You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.
Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.
It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.
But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 
He would have all of you.
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candyunicornsateme · 7 months ago
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whats your favorite south park hc 3 2 1 go
Like broadly?? For the whole thing??? I'm not sure. But, I kinda love that a lot of us love kinda doing the whole academic style with Kyle. And I love the hc of Kenny being a good singer. ;v; That's some good shit.
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kresnikcest · 6 months ago
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Read the notes for my genfic where Julius gets dosed with a truth serum and becomes uncomfortably honest about how much he doesn’t want Ludger to leave him and damn. Ludger is just speedrunning Stockholm syndrome.
Ludger: My brother is freaking me out admitting he’s tracking my phone and wanting me to stay at home with him instead of getting a job and moving out
Also Ludger once the effect fades and Julius is back to being responsible and self-loathing: what do you MEAN you don’t want me to stay with you forever đŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„ș
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glitter-oracle · 2 years ago
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nagdabbit · 5 months ago
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softly,
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halfmoonaria · 26 days ago
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unanswered II
pairing: tara carpenter & female reader
summary: tara finally comes to her senses.
word count: 6k
author’s note: sorry for the wait guys! might be forgiven tho since i claimed this was 4k words but it ended up with 6k.
i tried to include all your suggestions so i hope you like it
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Tara had been blocked.
You had blocked her.
Though, it didn't hit her all at once. The first few minutes, she thought you were just asleep, it had been late when she had texted you after all.
Maybe you needed space after what Tara had said a few nights before, and she couldn't blame you for that.
Yet she still tried texting you, each one more desperate than the last. They were all small messages, apologies wrapped in awkward words that probably didn't mean much for anyone but her.
At first, Tara chalked it up to bad timing, bad service, something.
You had to see her messages eventually, right? So she kept sending them. But there was still no reply. Then, the doubt crept in.
Maybe you were ignoring her.
That thought weighed heavily on her, but she didn't stop.
She was still convinced there had to be an explanation. You always stayed. Even when things were at their worst, when she screwed up time and time again, you stayed.
But something was different this time. She felt it.
Then she noticed the green bubbles. The messages weren't delivering.
Her stomach had dropped. It wasn't bad service. It wasn't bad timing. You had cut her off completely.
Her thumb hovered over your contact, thinking about calling, but she stopped. What was the point? You wouldn't answer.
You were done with her.
She stared at her phone for longer than she should have, as if willing it to change.
But it didn't.
The reality sank in, slow and suffocating. You were gone.
For the first time, she wasn't the one walking away, and the absence of you—your presence, your texts, your warmth—was a hole Tara hadn't even realized she relied on.
It wasn't like she hadn't expected it after everything that had happened.
You always had a way of catching her when she messed up, but things seemed to smooth over eventually.
She never really had to confront her mistakes because you stayed, no matter how many times she got it wrong. Now, though, there was nothing.
Tara wasn't used to this. Sure, she knew she had done something wrong—pushing you away, keeping you in this weird limbo while she figured herself out—but she hadn't thought it would lead to you cutting her off.
Blocking her, even.
That had never happened before. No matter how many times she messed up, you had always been there, willing to pick up the pieces, and things just... worked.
She hadn't even realized how much she relied on your presence until it was gone.
For the first time, she was completely alone. No Amber, no you. Just silence.
———
Tara woke up the next morning with a strange sense of hope. She half expected to see the messages had been delivered, that maybe you'd unblocked her while she was asleep. Maybe it was all just a mistake. You wouldn't really cut her off, not after everything, right?
She grabbed her phone, swiping to the messages she'd sent.
Still green.
Her heart sank, the pit in her stomach deepening as she realized nothing had changed. You were serious. You weren't coming back.
When she got to school, a part of her still thought maybe you'd be there, waiting to talk like you always did, or at least watching from afar. She found herself glancing at the spots where she usually saw you, waiting for that familiar feeling of your eyes on her.
But you weren't there.
But Tara kept walking, her heart heavy as she scanned the hallways. That's when she spotted Amber, standing by her locker, waiting. The familiar feeling of longing tugged at her, but this time it wasn't as comforting as before.
Amber caught her eye and signaled for her to come over, flashing that smile Tara always fell for. Without thinking, Tara did. She walked straight into Amber's arms, letting Amber sling her arm casually around her shoulders as if nothing had changed between them.
For a brief moment, Tara felt like she had what she wanted. Amber was there, holding her close, showing everyone that she was hers—at least for today.
But there was still a heaviness in her chest, something she couldn't shake. It didn't make sense. She was with Amber now, wasn't this enough?
The thought of you crept in, uninvited.
No, it couldn't be that.
She pushed the feeling down, convincing herself that having Amber was enough.
It had to be.
That's what she told herself for the following days, trying to convince herself that Amber was enough, that this was what she wanted.
And for a while, it almost worked. Amber had been good—more attentive, more affectionate than usual—at least during the school week.
The weekends, though, were different. Parties took priority, and Amber's attention drifted.
Yet even when things were good; better than ever if you will, Tara couldn't shake the feeling lodged in her chest, that gut-wrenching discomfort that seemed to cling to her no matter how much she tried to ignore it.
The more she tried to push it down, the more it twisted inside her, leaving her uneasy.
And all of the thoughts led back to you. To Tara's own surprise.
You didn't try to search for her between classes, didn't glance in her direction when you passed her in the hallways. Nothing. Like she didn't even exist.
That was what Tara should've expected, really. After everything she'd done—after the way she'd strung you along, pushed you aside, left you waiting on the sidelines—it made sense. She had no right to expect anything different.
Tara had always been the one to call the shots, to decide when and where things stood between the two of you. Now, for the first time, the power was out of her hands.
She kept telling herself it was temporary. You'd come back—you always did. She just had to wait it out. Maybe this time it would take a little longer, but you'd be there, eventually. You had to be. So she forced herself to get used to it, to the absence, pretending she could handle the emptiness you left behind.
But what really started to get under Tara's skin wasn't just your absence or the way you seemed to move on so easily. It was seeing you with someone else.
She first noticed it during English class. You had been sitting next to some girl—someone Tara vaguely recognized but never really paid attention to before.
At first, she didn't think much of it, but as the days went on, she kept seeing the two of you together. Talking. Laughing. It wasn't just casual conversations either. You looked comfortable. Almost like you were enjoying yourself.
And as the days passed, Tara couldn't help but notice it more.
You hadn't even glanced her way in days, and yet here you were, cozying up to someone else like nothing had happened.
And every time she glanced in your direction during class, there you were, talking to her. Sometimes you'd laugh, or lean in a little closer, your body language relaxed in a way that made Tara's stomach twist.
You weren't just sitting next to each other anymore—you were... comfortable. And it wasn't just in English. She caught sight of you together in the hallways, outside the building after school.
The more she saw the two of you, the more it grated on her nerves. A sharp, simmering anger that built with each passing day.
Every smile, every shared glance between you and this girl made it harder for her to focus on Amber, even when Amber was right beside her, holding her hand or whispering in her ear.
It shouldn't have bothered her like this. It shouldn't have mattered.
You were free to talk to whoever you wanted. For all Tara knew, she was just a classmate, someone you happened to sit next to by chance.
But that didn't stop the ugly feeling from growing inside her, gnawing away at her with every interaction she witnessed.
She told herself it was nothing. That it didn't mean anything. But with every glance, every shared word between you and that girl, her anger simmered, coiling tighter until it was all she could focus on.
It wasn't jealousy, Tara told herself. It couldn't be. She had Amber, after all.
Yet there was no denying the way her chest tightened every time she saw you with her. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. You weren't supposed to matter anymore.
But somehow, you still did. Of course you did.
___
"What's got your panties in a twist?" Amber's voice broke through Tara's thoughts, cutting through the low hum of the campus.
Her tone was sharp, playful in a way that normally would've made Tara grin, but today it grated, pulling her out of the spiral she had been sinking into.
They were sitting outside, perched on one of the weathered wooden benches that lined the quad, the usual bustling energy of lunchtime fading as the crowd thinned.
Chad and Liv had disappeared first, throwing out some half-hearted excuse about "something better to do," Mindy had ditched too—not that Tara blamed her, considering she wasn't exactly Amber's biggest fan. Which left only Amber and Tara behind.
Normally, Tara would've reveled in that—the rare chance to have Amber's full attention, unshared, unchallenged by anyone else. She used to crave these moments when it was just the two of them, when Amber's eyes were only on her.
But now, Tara could barely summon the energy to care. The thrill of it had dulled, smothered under the weight of everything else she couldn't stop thinking about—of everything she couldn't feel.
Your absence hung heavy in the air, even though Amber didn't know it was there. She couldn't know.
She wouldn't have cared if she did.
Amber shifted beside her, more out of impatience than concern. "Seriously, you've been acting weird all week," she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration.
She wasn't used to Tara being so distant, and the idea that something might be slipping out of her control clearly bothered her. "What's your problem?"
Tara blinked, her mind sluggish, trying to catch up. It wasn't like she could explain it—not in any way that made sense.
How could she tell Amber that the cold shoulder she had been getting from you had thrown her completely off balance?
That it was the same cold shoulder she'd given you, over and over again, each time leaving you on the outside while she stayed wrapped up in Amber's world. How could she admit that now, when it was her on the receiving end, it felt like a punch to the gut every single time she saw you?
"I don't know," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I'm just tired."
It was the best she could come up with, the easiest excuse, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it wasn't enough.
Amber wasn't the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to Tara. She was used to being the center of attention, the one calling the shots, and when Tara's focus wasn't on her, Amber always took notice.
"Yeah, well, you've been 'tired' for a while now," Amber snapped back, her tone cutting through the brief silence like a whip.
She didn't sound concerned, not really—just annoyed, irritated that something wasn't going her way. "Maybe you should come out with me this weekend, you know? Party with me."
Amber's suggestion hung in the air between them, and Tara hesitated. Normally, Amber didn't bother to ask.
She'd go without her, living up the night on her own, letting Tara watch it all from the sidelines. She'd see it unfold through Amber's and other people's social media—photos and videos of Amber laughing, surrounded by friends, completely absorbed in her own world.
But this time, it felt different. Tara could feel it in the way Amber's eyes lingered on her, waiting, expecting something—expecting Tara to be excited, to jump at the chance like she would've done before.
But the thought of it, the thought of pretending everything was fine, felt suffocating.
She nodded anyway, forcing herself to give Amber the answer she was waiting for, even if it felt hollow. "Yeah. Sure."
But even as the words came out, Tara felt the weight of them, heavy and wrong.
Because the truth was, none of it mattered—not the party, not Amber's fleeting attention. None of it made a dent in the gnawing ache in her chest that had started the moment you stopped looking at her.
She told herself it was fine. She could play along. She had done it before. But deep down, Tara knew that no matter how much she tried to push it down, nothing could fix this disgusting feeling.
She sat in silence for a moment longer, staring at the ground as her mind whirred with thoughts she didn't want to have.
She clenched her jaw, trying to shake the feeling, trying to make herself believe that this—Amber, the party, all of it—would be enough. It definitely would've been before, hadn't it?
But now, the weight of your absence pressed in on her from every angle, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to matter so much.
Amber shifted beside her, sighing loudly. "Whatever, Tara," she muttered, standing up and brushing invisible dust off her jeans. "Don't get all weird on me."
Tara barely registered her leaving. The rush of relief she might have once felt in moments like these—when Amber turned her attention elsewhere—was gone, replaced by an ache she couldn't name.
A week ago, maybe two, Tara would've called after her, almost running to catch up. She would've asked if they could get ready together, spent half an hour agonizing over what she should wear, hoping for Amber's approval.
Her mind would've spun with questions, things she'd never needed to worry about when she was around you.
What should she wear? What did Amber want her to look like? Was her hair okay down, or should she try something new? She would've sent selfies for Amber's opinion, eager for a reaction, any reaction, to reassure her that she was enough.
But now, the questions didn't come. They felt distant, buried under the weight that had settled in her chest and refused to leave. Tara didn't care what Amber thought anymore. She didn't even care what she looked like.
The weekend came sooner than she had expected, almost sneaking up on her while she drifted through the week in a haze.
Throughout the week, Tara had tried to text you. Just one message each day, nothing too desperate, nothing that screamed she was losing her mind over your silence.
But each time, the bubble turned green, and with every little notification, her hope that you might respond twisted into something bitter, something angry.
Were you with her? That girl from your English class, the one she'd seen you walking with down the hallways, laughing, your head bent close to hers like you didn't have a care in the world.
Tara's stomach knotted at the thought, her grip tightening on her phone every time she imagined the two of you together. Were you sharing the jokes you used to save just for her? Did you laugh the same way?
By the time Friday came around, the anger had wrapped itself around her chest, growing heavier each time she looked at her phone, still green, still silent.
It weighed on her as she stood in front of the mirror that night, staring at her reflection like a stranger. She had thrown on whatever was closest, not caring how it looked—not caring how she looked—and now, standing there, she could feel the frustration boiling over.
She looked terrible, and she knew it. The clothes didn't sit right, her hair was a mess, and she didn't even have the energy to fix any of it.
Normally, she'd have texted Amber for advice, asked her what to wear, how to do her makeup. They might've gotten ready together if Amber cared enough, Amber teasing her the whole time but never letting her leave the house unless she looked perfect.
But tonight, none of that mattered. Tara was angry—angry at herself, at you, at the girl you were probably with right now. She felt like she was spinning, her thoughts spiraling into a million catastrophic possibilities, each one worse than the last.
Maybe she just needed to see you in person. Maybe if she could find you, look you in the eye, and tell you how she was feeling right now, you'd understand. Maybe that's what would finally break through this silence.
If she could just get you to listen, maybe if she could tell you all of it—how she didn't know what she was doing, how none of it made sense to her—you'd understand.
But would you even believe her? Would you even want to hear her out?
Without thinking twice, she pulled out her phone and typed out a message to Amber.
can't make it tonight. smth came up.
She didn't even wait for a response before throwing her phone onto the bed, her mind already somewhere else.
Part of her wanted to look you up, track you down, and talk to you face-to-face. Whether you were with someone else or just avoiding her the way she'd been avoiding you —but either way, Tara was done waiting around for you to reach out.
She stood frozen for a moment, feeling ridiculous as the thought of showing up at your house unannounced settled in.
She could already picture how stupid she'd look, standing at your door, trying to explain herself. You'd blocked her—didn't that already say everything she needed to know?
But then that other girl's face flashed in her mind, the way you laughed with her, walked next to her in the halls.
The thought of her taking you away, of her being the one you shared everything with now, twisted Tara's stomach in knots. She couldn't let that happen. Not without at least trying.
She didn't want to be too late.
Tara hated how desperate she felt, how even after everything, after you'd blocked her, she was still running after you. But she couldn't help it.
Even if she had to look you in the eye and hear you say you didn't want her anymore, she needed to know for sure. She needed to fight, because the thought of losing you to someone else was worse than any rejection you could throw at her.
With a deep breath and her hands shaking, she grabbed her jacket and keys.
Feeling stupid the whole way, she headed out the door, her heart pounding with every step she took toward your house.
___
didn't think u were weak enough to back out.
guess i was wrong.
Amber's text lit up her screen, but Tara barely glanced at it.
Normally, Amber's words usually stung, leaving Tara questioning herself, doubting everything. But tonight, they barely registered. She didn't care anymore, not about Amber's opinion or her insults.
The thought of how she'd been stringing you along—pushing and pulling, hot and cold—made her stomach twist in a way Amber's games never had.
Tara had always hated how Amber toyed with her, how she'd be there one day and gone the next, keeping Tara on a leash just long enough to never fully let go. Now, she realized, she was doing the same to you. She'd been selfish, scared, and now it was coming back to haunt her.
Amber had dragged her through the same emotional mess for so long—back and forth, never knowing where they stood—and now she had done the same to you.
It wasn't about Amber anymore. It was about you. And she wasn't going to let you slip away without at least trying.
She made it to your house almost sooner than she'd liked. The sight of your front door tightened the knot in her stomach, something she wasn't used to feeling.
Tara wasn't the nervous type—usually, she could handle herself in any situation, always sure of what she'd say or do. But now, her palms felt damp, her breath catching every time she thought of you opening that door.
She didn't know what she was going to say. Hell, she didn't even know if you'd open the door. But she had to try, even if her nerves were making her feel like a complete idiot for being there.
But she was already here, and she'd come this far—she couldn't just turn back now. She'd fought her way through every doubt to get here, and backing down wasn't an option.
Her feet felt heavy as she took each step up the walkway, the familiar creak of the wooden steps underfoot echoing louder in her ears than it ever had before.
The closer she got, the more every little detail stood out—the chipped paint on your door, the soft glow of light seeping out from the window.
She raised her hand to knock, fingers hovering just inches away, her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if you'd hear it from the other side.
Taking a deep breath, she let her knuckles tap lightly against the door, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the still night air.
It took long enough for you to answer that her thoughts had time to spiral. She knew your parents weren't home; in the little time she'd spent actually getting to know you, she'd learned that they hardly ever were.
You were probably home alone, and the idea haunted her—maybe you'd invited someone else over, maybe you weren't even alone at all, maybe you were with that girl she'd seen you with before.
By the time she heard footsteps approaching, her heart was beating so fast she almost felt sick, every possibility fighting for space in her mind.
Finally, the door swung open, and for a split second, there was a soft smile on your face.
But the moment your eyes landed on her, it vanished, replaced by something unreadable.
It wasn't anger—your expression was calm, almost neutral, yet there was a guardedness to it, like you'd been caught off guard, not entirely prepared to see her standing there.
The warmth in your eyes had dimmed, leaving something harder to read.
Tara couldn't tell if that look meant you were relieved or if she was the last person you wanted to see right now.
For a second, Tara felt so small. She knew she was short, but this was different—she'd never felt this out of place, like she was shrinking right there on your doorstep. Not since Amber.
Her fingers fidgeted, tracing over her knuckles as she tried to read you, to figure out what was going on behind that guarded expression. She barely registered the sound of her name until she heard your voice.
"Tara.. Hi."
The words hung there, making the quiet between you even heavier.
Tara didn't respond right away, too caught up in the questions swirling through her mind.
Had she interrupted something? Were you expecting someone else—someone who actually wanted to be here?
Her mind raced, flashing back to all the times you'd tried reaching out, inviting her over, and all the times she'd ignored you, too wrapped up in the momentary thrill of Amber's attention.
She hadn't let herself think about what that might've felt like for you.
And now, standing here, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was karma—that maybe you'd moved on, found someone else who didn't make you feel like a backup option. What if, after all this, she was too late?
Finally, after a moment, she managed to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, unsteady.
"Were... were you expecting somebody else?" Her words faltered, her gaze fixed on her hands as she twisted her fingers together, almost as if she could hold onto some kind of confidence.
You furrowed your brows just slightly, a small, almost confused smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as you let out a soft, breathy laugh. "No... why would I?"
Tara's mouth opened, but no words came out right away. She hadn't expected you to look so genuinely surprised, and now she felt her cheeks warming, her gaze darting down as she scrambled for something to say. Her fingers twisted together, and she forced herself to meet your eyes again, feeling silly for even bringing it up.
"I... I don't know. I just thought... maybe." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she hated how uncertain it sounded, as if she'd already given away too much. But she couldn't help it—she just had to know.
You tilted your head slightly, still wearing that soft smile, though there was a hint of something knowing in your eyes.
"Is she.. ignoring you again?" you asked, the question so casual yet so pointed that Tara's breath hitched.
She knew you meant Amber—you didn't even need to say her name. And the worst part was, she felt a pang of guilt because, honestly, it wouldn't have been the first time.
She swallowed hard, feeling like her own answer was betraying her. "Actually... no," she said slowly, her voice faltering as she tried to piece together her words. "She, uh, actually invited me to a party."
Your expression shifted, that lightness fading from your eyes, and Tara's stomach twisted painfully when she noticed.
She hadn't expected you to react like that, hadn't anticipated that flicker of hurt crossing your face. And now, standing there in the doorway, she felt a rush of regret wash over her.
Before she could stop herself, she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I didn't... I didn't go."
You didn't respond right away, just looked at her, eyebrows raised, silently waiting. Tara shifted under your gaze, feeling smaller by the second, until finally, she started to speak.
"I know you probably... don't want to talk to me right now," she began, her voice a little too fast, like she was rushing to get the words out before she lost her nerve.
She took a shaky breath and continued, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I mean, it's not like I've given you a reason to, you know, feel any different... or... yeah."
Her hand drifted up to her wrist, squeezing it as she fumbled for her next thought. "I... I messed up. And, I've been thinking about it, like, a lot, and it's just—I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, I thought I did, but then I... I didn't. And I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't... important, or that I didn't care, because I did. I do."
She bit her lip, glancing up at you, unsure if she was making any sense, but she kept going. "I know it's probably too late to say any of this, and you've probably moved on, but I just... I don't know. I didn't want you to think that I... forgot about you. Or... or that you didn't matter."
Her gaze flickering down to the ground, then up to yours again, almost as if she's scared you'll walk away.
"That message where I told you to... that I didn't want anything to do with you..." She shakes her head, struggling for the right words. "I shouldn't have said that. I was... I don't even know what I was thinking. I just... Amber was there, and I felt like if I didn't, she'd—" She stops herself, clenching her fists a little, swallowing hard.
"And all those other messages.. I just kept trying to say sorry, but it was probably just... desperate, I guess. I didn't know how else to say that I... I wanted you, that I didn't mean it. That I still..."
Her words falter, and she sighs, rubbing her forehead as though exhausted with herself. "I know it probably doesn't make up for any of it, but... I swear, I didn't mean it. I never wanted to hurt you."
As soon as she stopped talking, a wave of embarrassment crashed over her, and it was all she could do not to cringe.
She hadn't even planned on saying half of what she'd said, and yet here she was, fumbling through one strained apology after another.
It felt messy, like she was just piling words on top of words, hoping that somehow they'd turn into something that made sense to you, that could somehow make things better.
But in her heart, she knew it sounded like nonsense, just a lot of desperate, pointless excuses that probably made her look even more pathetic.
And you just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read—somewhere between shocked and neutral.
The silence between you seemed to stretch on, making her rambling feel even more pointless, like each second of quiet only added weight to her mess of words.
Tara could feel her face heating up, and all she wanted was to take everything back, to make it sound right somehow—but she didn't even know what "right" would be.
Her fingers tightened around her wrist, her gaze dropping back to her worn out converses as the silence thickened around her. Part of her wanted to shrink back, to stop talking altogether, but she'd already put too much out there to turn back now.
So when you didn't answer, she continued.
"I... I want to do better," she said, each word a little slower, like she was searching for the strength to actually mean it. Her eyes barely lifted to meet yours, as if waiting for something—anything—that might tell her it wasn't too late.
Your hand, which had been holding the door open this whole time, finally slipped away. You clapped both hands against the sides of your thighs, the sound breaking the quiet between you two.
Then, with a tone that was almost unreadable, you asked, "Is that it?"
Tara's face fell slightly when your words cut through the silence. She searched your expression, looking for something—anything—that hinted at forgiveness, but the steady way you looked back at her made her stomach drop.
Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"So... you don't forgive me?"
Tara looked up at you, her eyes wide and glistening, almost like a puppy's, searching for any hint of understanding. It was a look she hadn't meant to put on, but somehow it found its way back to her face, a reflex from childhood.
She remembered using those same eyes when she'd gotten into trouble with her mom or when Sam wouldn't let her hang out with her friends. Back then, she'd wielded them like a weapon, a last-ditch effort to melt hearts and earn forgiveness.
Now, though, it felt different.
There was no intent behind it, just a genuine plea for empathy that made her feel exposed, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized how desperate she must look.
You took a breath before responding, your gaze steady but distant. "I do.. but I don't see why that matters because it'll all happen again." You said slowly, weighing each word.
Tara felt her heart sink at your words, the reality of what you said hitting her hard. She knew all too well how it felt to be caught in that cycle—Amber had done the same to her, repeatedly promising change only to slip back into old patterns.
It was frustrating and disheartening, and in that moment, she understood where you were coming from.
She took a shaky breath, trying to find her voice. "It won't... I promise it won't." Her tone was earnest, filled with a desperate need to be believed, to convince you that this time would be different.
Tara searched your expression, and as your words echoed in her mind—you did accept her apology—a flicker of hope ignited within her. It felt like a delicate promise written in cursive, intricate yet fragile, and she couldn't help but cling to it.
She tried to muster a soft smile, though it felt tentative, as if it might shatter under the weight of everything left unsaid.
"Can we... do you think that maybe we can try again?" The words tumbled out, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. It was a fragile request, a chance she hoped wouldn't be met with rejection.
She could see the flicker of thoughts crossing your face. Your brow furrowed slightly, and she sensed the hesitation lingering in the air between you. It was as if you were weighing her words, measuring the sincerity of her apology against the weight of the past.
She couldn't tell if you were considering her request or if doubt still lingered in your mind.
It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a sign, desperately hoping that you would choose to leap with her this time.
After a long pause, a small, soft smile crept up on your face, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit. You finally met her gaze, and the warmth in your eyes hinted at something Tara had been longing to see.
"Sure... yeah, I'd like that," you said, your voice gentle but firm, like a lifeline tossed her way.
Tara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her shoulders eased slightly at your response, something softening in her expression as she processed your words. It wasn't a promise, but it felt real enough.
A quiet acknowledgment that maybe this could lead somewhere different.
She looked at you for a moment longer, managing a small, uncertain smile as if not entirely sure this chance would hold but willing to take it anyway.
The silence lingered, weighty but almost comfortable. Tara held your gaze, her expression softening just a bit as she let herself settle into the quiet, not wanting to push any further. When she finally managed a small smile, it was tentative, as if she was holding onto it carefully.
"Guess I'll... see you around?" she asked, her voice a quiet murmur, like she wasn't entirely certain if she should even say it.
You gave a slight nod, already moving to close the door. The subtle acknowledgment was enough to let her feel that maybe, just maybe, things could shift—if only a little.
She shifted slightly, like she wanted to say something more but couldn't quite find the words. A small, unsure smile crossed her face as she looked up at you again, her voice softer.
With that, Tara turned to go, casting one last look back at you before turning around to walk away.
___
The next week, Tara's phone buzzed on her nightstand, pulling her from a the books scattered all over her bed.
She squinted at the screen, hoping to see your name lighting up, a sign that things were finally moving forward between you two.
Maybe it was about the plans you'd casually mentioned — plans that did not include Tara bringing out her frustrations in bed with you.
Instead, her heart sank a little as Amber's name flashed across the screen.
u free this friday?
For the first time, Tara felt a surprising clarity wash over her as she read the message. She didn't hesitate, knowing exactly how she wanted to respond without second-guessing herself.
In the past, she'd tiptoed around her replies, always afraid that Amber would judge her for whatever she said.
But now, after everything with you, she was certain of what she wanted. This time, there was no uncertainty clouding her thoughts. So, after a moment, she typed a quick reply.
im actually busy, sorry
With a breath of relief, she hit send and immediately blocked Amber's number. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
This time, she wouldn't be waiting for Amber's text, for promises that never changed anything.
She knew what she had now—this newfound sense of clarity—and what she wanted. And that was enough.
This was how it would stay.
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bingwriterxo · 1 year ago
Text
a clingy drunk
pairing: amber freeman x reader
summary: in which you get a little too drunk at one of amber's parties
warnings: implications of sex, mentions of alcohol poisoning
word count: 1900+
author's note: this was a request (find here!) hope yall enjoy :D
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“So, is tonight just the group or is it the whole school?” you asked, your eyes trained on your own reflection as you tried to do your hair in the style that always drove Amber wild. You glanced behind you in the mirror, catching sight of your girlfriend as she looked through her closet for something to wear.
“The whole school,” Amber answered, pulling a cropped shirt from its hanger and holding it up for you to see. “Thoughts?”
You gulped, nodding quickly. “Definitely. Wear it with those low-waisted jeans you got the other day.”
She hummed as she crossed the room, shirt in hand, and leaned down, her chin resting on your shoulder. Her eyes locked with yours in the mirror, and she asked, “Making yourself all pretty for me?”
You shivered at her words, her warm breath fanning against your cheek. “Yeah, Ambs,” you agreed, turning your head to peck her on the cheek. “All pretty for you.”
Amber grinned, leaning in to kiss you. “My pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips, and butterflies circled your stomach, making you beam with joy. She stood and left your side, going to dig through her dresser for the pants that you had mentioned earlier. 
You carried on with styling your hair, humming along to the quiet music that was playing in the room. You loved when things were like this--both of you existing in the same space yet doing your own things; it was pure domesticity.
Amber’s voice cut through your concentration, drawing your eyes back to her through the mirror. “Baby?” she began, her voice soft and lulling. You swore up and down that you could fall asleep to it. 
“Yeah?” 
“Try not to drink too much tonight, alright? I don’t want to have to call the ambulance again.”
You shuddered at the memory of what had happened at Amber’s last party nearly a month prior. Chad and Mindy had egged you into trying your first keg stand, and, upon successfully completing it, they decided to celebrate by feeding you shot after shot of tequila. Needless to say, the night had ended with you being rolled out on a stretcher, Amber following behind with wide, worried eyes, and having your stomach pumped. 
“I definitely won’t be drinking that much tonight,” you promised. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
She smiled, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “Good.” She pulled the jeans from her drawer, a mischievous smirk on her lips and a familiar spark in her eyes. “Wanna help me get changed?”
You leapt from your seat and rushed toward her, giggling the whole time. 
* * *
For a good hour, you kept your promise to Amber. While people were still filing into her house, you simply wandered around, offering half-assed greetings to your peers and sipping at your beer; every so often, you’d pester your girlfriend for her phone so that you could change the song, or you’d just walk right up to her and plant a kiss on her lips--she never complained about either. 
However, when your friends arrived, your night was quickly turned around.
“Y/N! My favorite girl!” Chad cheered as he walked through the front door, a six-pack of beer dangling from his fingertips. He pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring as you deftly swiped a drink from the case. “How you doing tonight? You ready to get fucked up?!”
“Not too fucked up, Chad,” Mindy interjected as she sidled up beside him, grinning at you. “Can’t have you in the hospital again, can we? Took me days to get that smoothie out of my hair.”
Unfortunately for the twins, at school the day after your little
incident, Amber had taken it upon herself to avenge you, resulting in both Meeks-Martin kids going home early with smoothie dripping from the tops of their heads.
“Definitely ready to get mildly fucked up,” you said, laughing.
Chad frowned. “We can do better than mildly.”
You looked around, making sure Amber wasn’t within earshot, and said, “As long as Ambs isn’t watching, then I’m all in.”
It didn’t take much time for the twins to get you more than mildly drunk. Within half an hour, you were slurring your words and swaying where you stood, your cheeks flushed a bright red and your eyelids drooping. 
“Oh, we’re fucked,” Mindy stated when she realized just how intoxicated you were, her eyes flitting from person to person to see if your girlfriend was anywhere in sight. 
Chad shook his head, taking a sip from his beer. “We’re only fucked if Amber notices,” he said.
“Amber!” you gasped suddenly, your eyes going wide at the mention of your girlfriend. You whipped your head around, stumbling backward and into Mindy’s arms at the force, searching for the raven-haired girl. “Where is she?”
“Uh, I’m not too sure,” Mindy said, glancing at her brother. “Do you need her?”
You twisted around and nodded furiously at Mindy, your face taking on the most serious expression she had ever seen. “Yes. Need her now.”
Chad furrowed his eyebrows, placing his drink down on the nearest surface he could reach. He put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “And why do you need Amber?” he asked.
You sighed dreamily, pulse speeding up at the thought of the girl. “‘Cause I love her,” you slurred. “Love her so much. Just want to squeeze her little cheeks.” You mimicked the action with your hands, scrunching your face up as you did. 
Mindy chuckled. “As if Amber would let you squeeze her cheeks.”
“Oh, she does,” you said, your voice convincing. “All the time. She likes it.”
“Are we talking about the same Amber?”
“Why would I want to squeeze a different Amber’s cheeks?” you asked, dead serious, and Chad barked out a laugh. You looked at him, confusion painted on your face. “I only love my Amber. I promise.”
“Oh, I know, champ.” He patted you on the top of your head. “Everyone knows. But, right now, you can’t have Amber because--”
“Because what?” Amber asked, and you squealed at the sight of her standing behind Mindy. You pushed yourself out of Chad’s grip and hurried toward her, immediately wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face into her neck. She was left a little disoriented but no less loving as she quickly hugged you back.
“Baby!” you exclaimed, and she flinched back at your voice so loud in her ear.
“Hi, pretty girl,” she cooed quietly, running her fingers through your hair before settling her sight on the twins. “Why is she so
excited?”
“She’s a little drunk,” Mindy said. 
Amber’s eyes narrowed. “How much is ‘a little,’ Mindy?”
“Four beers and three shots,” Chad offered, cringing when Amber’s jaw clenched. 
“I thought I told you guys not to let her drink that much tonight!” Amber chided, her hold on you tightening. You nuzzled further into her. “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” There was a threat in her voice as she spoke, her tone sharp and demanding, and both twins squirmed beneath her glare.
“She’s fine, Freeman. She’s just
really set on being with you right now, that’s all,” Mindy told the other girl. 
Chad nodded. “Yeah. She’s at about that point in the night where if you leave her alone, she might cry.”
Amber sighed and glanced down at you. “Guess I just won’t leave her alone, then.” She looked back at the twins. “At least, not with you two. Don’t you dare give her another drink tonight. Or else.”
Both twins raised their arms in surrender, taking a few steps back as Amber nodded, satisfied with their reaction. 
“Come on, baby,” Amber said to you. “Let’s go find Tara because I need to get more drinks from the basement.”
Almost immediately, you hugged her tighter, shaking your head. “No,” you whined, and Amber couldn’t help but think it was cute how determined you were to stay with her. She grinned as you emphasized the thought. “Only wanna be with you.”
You looked up, smiling at your girlfriend. You kissed her before raising an arm to squeeze her cheek. She blushed at the action, shooting a deathly glare toward her friends as you cooed like she was a puppy. 
“You’re the cutest person ever,” you said. “I just wanna be with you forever and ever and ever.”
She blushed even harder. “I love you, too, baby,” she said in response, because she’d have rather died than say something so cheesy where Mindy could hear her. “Now, can we please go find Tara so she can watch you while I run to the basement?”
Your face soured. “Depends. How long will you be?”
“Not even a minute.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, stuck in deep thought, and finally decided, “Okay. Fine. But can we cuddle after?”
Mindy tilted her head behind you, mouthing ‘Yeah, Amber. Can we cuddle?’ with a sly smirk. Amber had never been so tempted to tackle her to the ground. 
Through gritted teeth, she said, “Of course,” even though, in reality, she would have loved nothing more, but, again, she couldn’t let Mindy know that. 
“Yay!” you cheered, unraveling yourself from Amber. You intertwined your fingers with hers and let her pull you through the crowds in search for her brunette best friend, her thumb rubbing along the skin of your hand comfortingly as she did. 
It took a few minutes before you finally found Tara. She was sitting on the couch, a drink in her hand as she talked to Wes. Her head tilted when her eyes landed on you and Amber, lips quirking into a smile at your clearly drunk state.
“Did Chad and Mindy get to her?” she asked Amber, who nodded with a huff.
“Unfortunately,” Amber drawled. “Could you keep an eye on her? We’re out of beer. I need to grab more from the fridge downstairs.”
You frowned, like you had forgotten all about the fact that Amber needed to get more drinks. “Can’t I come with you?” you asked hopefully.
“I don’t think you could make it down the stairs like this, baby. Just stay here with Tara and Wes, okay?” She kissed you quickly before pulling away. When your frown deepened, she added "I'll be two seconds."
“Okay,” you grumbled, throwing yourself onto the couch between your friends and watching as your girlfriend disappeared in the direction of the basement.
“So, having a good night so far, Y/N?” Tara asked. 
You sighed, crossing your arms. “Guess so.”
“You don’t sound too happy,” Wes pointed out.
“I miss Amber,” you huffed. 
Tara chuckled. “She’ll be back soon. You’re a clingy drunk, huh?”
“No,” you denied, even though it was obviously the truth. “Just like being around Ambs. She’s so pretty, and cute, and she always makes me laugh, and she’s a really good kis--”
Amber appeared in front of you, a grin on her face, and you cut yourself off, hopping off the couch and right back into her arms. 
“You’re back!” you exclaimed.
She laughed. “I told you I wouldn’t be long.”
You pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw. “Can we go upstairs and cuddle?” you murmured, and Amber nearly melted. 
“Sure, baby. C’mon.” She started to walk away, you close behind, before she stopped and looked back at Tara. “Just
kick people out when it gets late, okay? I probably won’t be back down.”
Tara grinned at her. “Have fun, kids.”
Amber rolled her eyes and started leading you toward the stairs, trying to calm the fluttering of her heart as you chanted, “Cuddles! Cuddles! Cuddles!”
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comet-forgot-you · 3 months ago
Note
yo hear me out, so it started with R shouting "You're crazy Amber?!!" cus she found amber is ghostface and amber reply with "wel don't you think you shouldn't have let in a murderer inside your house" and they starred each other off and just have a makeout session + passionately fuck?
thankyou.
smut. 18+ pls.
do not repost for any reason.
you opening the door in nothing but a t shirt and underwear, recognizing the frantic knocks from amber. she was dressed in her black robe, a cut on her arm, bruises littered over her body.
you didnt even think to question it, your girlfriend was injured and that was all you were worried about, the strangeness of the situation not hitting you until you were done cleaning her up, wrapping her arm up.
“what the hell happened?” you asked, finally taking in her clothing. “what the hell are you wearing? is that a fucking knife? amber what the hell are you doing?” your never ending questions not allowing her answer. then it hits you, the robe, the knife, the blood, the recent murders.
your girlfriend was ghostface.
“you’re fucking ghostface? you’re the one thats been killing everyone? amber what the fuck!”
she grabs your shoulders, its startling and enough for you to shut up for two seconds. “calm down.”
“calm down? amber you’re killing people! my girlfriend is a fucking murdered and you want me to calm down? amber, you’re fucking crazy!”
she pauses for a moment.m, her eyes narrowing. “im crazy? you’re the one that let a killer into your house.” your eyes widened, fear washing over you for a brief moment. “you think im just randomly killing these people? its for you, its all for you. everyone of them is for you.”
shes fucking crazy.
amber had always joked about how she would kill for you. at least you thought it was a joke, now you weren’t so sure. it scared you, just a little bit.
but it was hot.
your eyes meet hers as she sets her knife down on your countertop. theres still blood on it, streaks of dried blood coating the blade. your lips are on hers before you know it. its hot, her tongue dancing with your own. she turns the two of you around, trapping you between her body and the counter. she reaches behind you, your lips never leaving each other as she pushes the knife away from you.
she taps your thighs and helps you onto the counter, her hands unable to keep still on your body. she kneads and pulls against you, forcing whines to fall from your lips. her fingers finally meet your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot that appeared on you underwear. she pulls the fabric to the side, far to eager to have you right now than to take the time to pull them off of you.
her fingers run through your folds before sinking into your cunt, curling them slightly. you pull away from her lips, starting to feel lightheaded at the lack of oxygen and the pleasure. your hot, heavy breaths mixed with each other, both of you so needy for the other.
“all for me?” you whisper the question out and amber nods. your walls squeeze at fingers at the confirmation, everything she’s done has been for you, and it was attractive in its own way. it doesnt go unnoticed by amber, a smirk creeping onto her lips.
“you little freak. do you get off on the fact that im killing for you? hmm?” you walls squeeze around her fingers again, giving amber the confirmation she needed. her lips trail down your jaw, using her free hand to tilt your head up slightly, allowing her more access to your neck.
“ambs,” you suck in a breath as her teeth scrape your neck. she presses a gentle kiss to the skin.
“hmm?”
shes sucking a deep mark, her fingers not to stopping their movements inside of your cunt. you let out a shaky moan, already so close, “please.” her thumb starts to rub your clit in tight circles, the added pleasure bringing you closer to your high.
you cant control your moans, everything about amber was just driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “im not stopping you, hun.”
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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year ago
Text
Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Single Dad!Bradley x Reader
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Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog
*all my works are 18+, minors DNI
Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.
WC: 3.6K
Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning
a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3
‱ ‱ ‱
Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?” 
He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she
?” 
He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.
- - - 
Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.
He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.
The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.
“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.
He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.
Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.
The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.
The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town. 
They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.
When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.
A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.
Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.
Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be. 
She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.
Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment. 
He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.  
 - - - 
Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.
Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.  
“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.
When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.
He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.
Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter. 
He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.
Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? 
It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.
- - -
You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her. 
A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone. 
Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.
You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”
The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head. 
You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.
Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.
“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.
“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.
She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion.  “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”
The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”
Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.
“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”
You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.
“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”
Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.
“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly. 
You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.
“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”
She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.
She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.
Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.  
“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.
The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute. 
Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.
- - -
Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”
He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand. 
When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.
“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”
He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.
“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!” 
It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.
Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful. 
Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.
Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.
“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m
” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?
“
Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”
His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.  
“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.
“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.  
For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.
Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes. 
His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.
“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”
You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.
Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.
“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat. 
“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.
“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.
“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.
“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”
You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.
“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.
“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.
“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.
Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.
Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you
sure?”
You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.” 
You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.
Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.
Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.
The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.
“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?” 
You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.
“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.” 
You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk. 
Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them. 
Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.
The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you. 
After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.
He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.
That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority. 
Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that. 
But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.
With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either. 
As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.
“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”
Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”
Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.
You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.
For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks. 
He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.
You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them. 
When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.
“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.
Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon. 
- - -
Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x
Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3
UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❀
tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock
also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller
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foreverrandomwritings · 2 years ago
Text
Hands
Summary: The 5 times Bob sees you looking at his hands and the 1 time he says something.
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!Reader
Warnings: Mostly fluff but gets a little 18+ NSFW at the end, Minors DNI. 
Word Count:1976
Masterlist 
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One
The first time Bob ever noticed you staring at his hands was during your third date. He had picked you up from your apartment and complimented the way that you had done your hair which had a blush working its way up your chest to your cheeks. Then he drove you to a nice Italian restaurant that you had suggested. The conversation was going smoothly. You were telling him a funny story about something that had happened at work that day. He was nodding his head appropriately, listening intently and laughing at the punch line of the story.
When the food finally arrived the both of you dove into your dishes occasionally talking to each other between bites about any random thing either of you could think of. He had asked you a question about your job while twirling some spaghetti onto his fork. When you didn’t answer him right away he looked up and saw that you were staring at his hand that was holding his fork. He didn’t think much of it assuming you had just zoned out and that's where your eyes landed. 
You blinked after a moment of readjusting in your seat and shyly asked him “What was the question?” He gave you a reassuring smile before repeating the question. You answered him promptly and the awkward moment was forgotten. Once the main course was done you decided to split a piece of chocolate cake for dessert.
While eating the cake you giggled and told Bob that he had gotten some chocolate on his face. He brought the napkin from his lap up to his rosy face and wiped at the spot you had pointed at. He once again noticed your eyes fixated on his hands. But thought nothing other than you making sure he wiped it all away. 
Two
The second time he noticed you staring at his hands was while you were at the Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squad. You were sitting at a table with him and Phoenix as his front seater wanted to get to know you better. He was eating some peanuts as he usually did while at the bar observing the crowd of patrons, when he heard Phoenix ask “You okay over there?” 
He looked up and noticed that you had been looking at him. More importantly looking at his hands as he cracked open a shell and moved it to his lips. He, much like your third date, assumed you had simply zoned out. Before he could say anything Payback was asking him if he wanted to play a round of pool to which he agreed knowing that Phoenix wanted some one on one time with you anyways to “talk girl stuff” as she had put it. He had been chalking the tip of the cue stick when he felt eyes on him. He looked up and noticed you looking at him again, still in conversation with Phoenix, but this time didn’t click that you were looking at his hands. 
After playing two rounds of pool he had wandered back over to the table in search of a drink. You had noticed this and handed him his root beer. He thanked you with a sparkle in his eyes, happy seeing you fit into the family he had made. Your eyes drifted down from his eyes to his hand grazing yours. He figured that you had just been making sure he had a hold of the bottle before letting go. 
Three
The third time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was driving the both of you home from a day at the beach. He had handed you his phone when you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Why don’t you pick some music for the drive back?” He asked you.
“Sure thing Bobby Boy.” you replied as you began scrolling through the pandora app until finding a playlist you deemed worthy. The sky was cloudy and the breeze was nice so you had your window rolled down. Your hair was whipping around your face but you had a beaming smile adorning your features.
After glancing at you a few times he noticed you looking at his hands on the wheel. You were still singing the x ambassadors song that came from the speakers in his car. After a couple of minutes he worked his right hand over to rest on top of your thigh. You had a faint blush on your face as his thumb brushed over the skin right above your knee. 
He went to move his hand off your leg thinking maybe you were uncomfortable. But you put your hand on top of his, halting his movements. So he left his hand there for the rest of the car ride. He could feel your eyes moving towards his hand every once in a while trying to be discreet. He once again thought nothing of the looks. 
Four
The fourth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while the two of you were attending a pottery class together. It was his idea as he knew you were wanting to branch out your hobbies and he thought it would be a fun activity for the two of you to do together. He for some reason was a natural where as you were struggling. The both of you were laughing as you tried to shape the sides of the bowl the way the instructor was demonstrating. 
No matter how many times you tried the bowl would collapse in on itself. You were being a good sport about the failure though. A big smile on your face trying to intently listen to the instructor give you a different instruction that should’ve helped you but seemed to only make things worse. So Bobby being the ever caring gentleman he is, got up to help you. 
His hands were covered in clay and water as they grasped your own dirty hands. He showed you how to move your thumb inside the bowl and your fingers on the outside with just enough pressure to build the wall and not make it fall down. As he was gently telling you a few tips that he had tried he noticed a smile on your face. Your eyes were following his hands on your own, eyes slightly glazed over as he pulled back. You gave him a soft “Thank you” as he sat back down on his stool. 
Five
The fifth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was making dinner and dessert for the both of you. You sat at his kitchen island sipping on a glass of water asking him occasional questions about what he was doing. He started with a Blackberry pie recipe he used to make with his mamaw when he was younger. 
You had mentioned before how you had never had a homemade pie and he wanted to change that. As his hands kneaded the dough for the crust occasionally reaching for more flour he answered your questions. His eyes moved up from his hands to see your eyes looking at them with the same glazed over look you had at the pottery class you had attended.
“Why are you adding so much flour to it?” You asked him slightly, cocking your head. 
“You don’t want it sticking to your hands so the more flour you add the less sticky it gets.” He replied to you and decided that you must have been paying attention to his technique in hopes of being able to make your own pie. Then he was making way to dinner. 
You had requested hamburgers, macaroni and cheese and broccoli. You volunteered to do the side dishes while he did the hamburger. As he worked all of the spices and worcestershire ïżŒ sauce into the beef he noticed your eyes drift down to his hands. You were biting your lip as your eyes scanned the work he was doing. You shook your head turning back to the stove after the water for the mac and cheese started to boil and dumped in the noodles. 
Six
The sixth time he noticed you staring at his hands was the time he finally got up the guts to ask you about it. It was a quiet night between the two of you. You were deep into reading A Court of Silver Flames for the millionth time claiming this book was basically your bible at this point. Your feet were propped up on one of the ottomans you kept in your living room. There was a blanket draped over your legs and quite Jazz coming from your tv.  
Bob had been occasionally glancing up at you as your brows furrowed at certain parts. There were times that your tongue would slip between your lips wetting them as your eyes scanned the pages. Those were the spicier scenes he had come to guess. As you looked up at him he noticed the same glazed over look in your eyes that you often got when you looked at his hands. That's when it hit him all those times that you had been looking at his hands. It was lust that crawled its way through you.
He decided then and there that if you looked at his hands again that he would say something to you. So that’s what he did. You glanced up from your book and caught sight of his hands working the knitting needles skillfully with the yarn to make a pair of socks. He abruptly halted his movements and cleared his throat. You jumped at the noise, a blaze of heat taking over your face at the realization you had been caught. 
“Can I ask you a question darling?” His voice rasping around the words. You simply nodded your head in permission. “Do you have a thing for hands?” he asked you bluntly, deciding not to beat around the bush, wanting to hear the answer quickly as the bulge in his pants was rapidly growing. Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with the question. If your face was red before it must have looked like you just stepped away from a fire with the rosy hue deepening in color. You choked a little on the words that tried to make their way from you. 
Bob dropped the needles and yarn from his hands and made his way over to you. He took the book from your hands, putting the bookmark between the pages you were on. You looked at him in awe as he pulled the blanket from your legs. You were barely able to see any color in his eyes as they were clouded with lust. You had both been intimate with each other many, many times already but the look in his eyes was not one you had seen yet. You swallowed the spit that formed in your mouth at the thought of what he had planned. 
“Do you want me to show you what all I can do with my hands darling?” He asked you as his hands worked their way up your legs. You gave him a weak nod still in shock over how the night had turned. “Words please?” he prompted you as his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip. 
“Y-ye-y-yes please.” You finally stuttered out and that's all he needed before he was picking you up and taking you to your bedroom. Your book and his knitting long forgotten as he kissed up your neck causing a moan to slip between your lips. A chill went down your back as he moved through your door. You knew that you were in for one of the best nights of your life. You really were a sucker for hands. 
A/N: This little thing popped into my head after talking to @theeleggymeggy and @wkndwlff about hands. I am and always will be a hands girly. Also heres a little gift for you all. 
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Tags(Open): @wkndwlff and @sylviebell
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sgt-seabass · 2 years ago
Note
Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?
𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚
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pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions đŸ„șđŸ„ș💙 this was meant to be short whoops.
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Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.
After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.
Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.
When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.
Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.
His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.
The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.
Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.
By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.
But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.
“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.
“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”
“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.
This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.
In his bed.
Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.
Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”
“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”
“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”
Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.
“I need
” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”
“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.
He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.
Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”
Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.
He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.
The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.
Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.
“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”
Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.
You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”
Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”
His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”
The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.
“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.
“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.
“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.
It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.
You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.
Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.
It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.
Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.
“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”
He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.
Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.
Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll
 I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”
You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.
In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.
“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.
Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”
“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.
Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.
“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.
There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.
“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”
“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”
Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.
Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.
After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.
Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.
Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I’m sorry, omega.”
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freemansgirl · 1 year ago
Note
Loved the jock Amber, how about her with a nerd reader?
aww thank you, that means a lot to me! ofc, i can do jock!ambs x nerd!reader, love the brains x brawns duo we got going on heređŸ’đŸżâ€â™€ïž pls lmk if you like this, anon â˜ș
jock!amber x nerd!reader
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SFW
* when first seeing amber, you found her really attractive, even if a jock wasn’t the typical person you go for based off the rumors you hear of them or how they are portrayed in media. what started off as a small, innocent class crush turned into a very, serious crush. you always wanted to talk to her, but she was someone that had a very hard exterior to her. she could be bitchy to other classmates and always had a resting bitch face. as intimidating as she was, she found herself taking in interest in you.
* most of her teammates in the locker room would encourage amber to get with popular “hot” girls or a girl with a status to her. just the typical locker room talk but she ignored them of course. “what about that liv girl, isn’t she hot to you?” “i appreciate the suggestion but i got my eyes on someone else.”
* she always sneaks little glances at you during class, admiring how cute you look. you looked so pretty when concentrating on the class subject. she admired how smart you were too, you always had the answers to every question the teacher asked.
* she took notice of you in class when the teacher suggested a group assignment. it was the perfect opportunity for her to talk to you. amber picked you as her partner. not only were you just smart and well-spoken, but you were beautiful and kept to yourself. more things that she liked about you.
* you felt nervous because you always caught her checking you out with her rbf so the fact she picked you caught you off guard. however, amber was
 surprisingly level-headed and nice, not the typical airhead, loud, and mean jock stereotype.
* the two of you exchanged numbers and always would try to make time to study after school to prepare for the group project. usually, amber would never really take time off of football practice for anyone, because she was someone who took sports seriously, but for you, she did. amber helps with grabbing whatever books you needed and would assist w the work for the group project.
* when it came to you two being group partners, amber wanted to get closer so she’d invite you over at her place.
* when she learned about your interests, she found them really cool actually. she liked hearing you ramble and get so passionate, she finds it adorable. there wasn’t any judgment whatsoever. she liked that your interests weren’t like the stereotypical, average person’s interests.
* “amber? are you there? am i boring you with my constant talking about my interests? i know they’re a bit
 “nerdy” and all.” what? no. of course not, i love hearing you talk about these things.” she thinks you are the cutest nerd she has ever seen. if anything, you’re her cute nerdđŸ€·đŸżâ€â™€ïž.(she cant rlly judge you anyway considering she is a big fan for stab. shes just as much of a nerd as you.)
* when seeing you write notes for anything, she compliments your handwriting
* thinks you look cute with glasses if you wear them
* she likes to get you things related to what you like. favorite book series? already checked it out at the library. favorite movie series? buys it for movie nights at her place. video games? already installed on a console. whatever it is you like, she’ll find a way to surprise you.
* she has definitely gotten you a cute oversized onesie of a fictional character you love before, thinks you look so cute walking around her room in it.
* loves to take off and manage her time for you. if you need help w something, she is always there for you especially w studying. she also likes to go to you for any type of tutoring.
*walks you to all of your classes, hand in hand with a lot of pride in her face because she adores having you!!
* takes you home if no one can after you spend a long time studying a library or from some type of club. she doesn’t want you to walk alone hurt and unsafe.
* she likes to invite you to her football practices and to football games because she feels like seeing you support her gives her motivation to win the games.
* she always gives you one of her jackets or a hoodie of hers to provide you some sort of comfort.
* if any of her friends try to tease amber about how she has the hots for you (because usually she’s not the corny type but with you she is), she’ll lightly throw a football at them to shut them up.
* if anyone talks badly or inappropriately about you in the locker room, she’ll literally go off on them and find a way to punish them as a football captain. she’ll probably make them do hella pushups with her foot on their back or make them run around the gym a lot of times.
NSFW
* sapiosexual for sureee, i think she’d get very turned on by how smart you are. i mean how can she not be in a nerd x jock dynamic?
* so unlike the stereotypical pushy, overly sexual jock, who try to make their girlfriends give it up to them
 amber is actually very gentle with you. she’d never push or force herself onto you. she’s patient and willing to wait for when you’re comfortable with her.
* likes to fuck you with her jersey on, it gives her the biggest ego boost honestly. also she likes fucking you with glasses on bc you know
 glasses are sexyđŸ€­
* during study sessions at the library, if amber is in one of her horny moods, she’d try to persuade you to go the bathroom w her and just give her a quickie. or just go there for horny moods in general
* for any shy ppl reading this, amber would love if youre shy and quiet in bed. it’s just a turn on for her and it makes her wanna fuck you even more just to draw more moans from you.
* after she wins a game, fucking you is one of her favorite ways to celebrate
* if you’re trying to study or just simply doing work at a library, amber would definitely use a sex toy vibrator on you to tease you. the more she can switch the settings, the better :)
* after a long aggravating football practice of someone pissing her off, she’d had sex too to just blow her steam. it can be at the locker rooms or at her place tbh.
* gym bathroom sex happens after you watch her work out and you get sooo turned on by how she works on her muscles. “i see you checking me out, (your name). if you want something from me, do be afraid to say what it is you want.” the something meaning sex
* shower sex
* likes to probably eat you out while you’re watching like a favorite movie of yours just to tease and to make enjoying fave movie even more fun ;)
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southtopaz · 2 months ago
Text
PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM
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Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.
Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, brief sexual content, mention of death, Amber freeman x Fem reader, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.
Word count: 3k
A/n: the story will follow the events of Scream 5 and 6. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.
Part 1, Part 2
Amber's lips tickled Iris's skin as she spoke. Her hands freely roamed the other girl's thighs and waist.
"God baby you drive me insane" Amber muttered in her ear while she continued to pepper kisses in her neck. Iris couldn't repress her shudders as she quietly moaned.
"Ambs, we are suppose to study for algebra" she whispered but her words didn't match her actions as she desperately placed her hands behind Amber's neck, to pull her close while grinding into her.
"Who the fuck cares about school" Amber smirked. "Tell me what you want love" her hands went to Iris's hips to rock them back and forth.
"I.." she sucked in a deep breath while her eyes followed every move of Amber's face. She pulled her into a needy kiss coaxing out a moan from the dark- haired girl. "You, I need you"
She kissed Iris passionately, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind her back, trying to pull her close.
"Take it off" Iris smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, swallowing at the look on her girlfriend's face. "So fucking beautiful, all for me". She brushed soft kisses across her collarbone making her sigh in pleasure.
With ease Amber changed their positions and now she was the one hooking her legs around the green-eyed girl. Iris supressed a squeal, she had always been shocked at the other's girl strength.
Leaning down and kissing her softly, fingers working quickly with her denim shorts. Once Iris's shorts were in the middle of her thighs, Amber began moving down her body. Lips kissing and teeth nipping at whatever piece of skin she could find. She started to move her underwear when Amber's phone rung in the nightstand.
"You've got to be kidding" Iris muttered under her breath.
Amber looked up from her place between her legs. "Just ignore it".
The phone started ringing again just as they were about to finish what they had begun, which caused them both to groan. Amber got up to answer it.
"Who the fuck is calling you right now baby?" She tried to take a look at the name in the screen but Amber quickly took her phone away from her as she left the room. "I'll be right back darling"
Five minutes later, her girlfriend came back with an apolegetic gesture and Iris just knew that they weren't going to continue what they were doing.
"I'm sorry baby, it was my mum, she wants me to come back. Apparently my aunt and her family are coming to visit and she wants me there" she pouted as she took Iris's hand and gave it a little kiss. "Promise I make it up to you"
"As cute as your pouting is, I can't believe you're leaving me here like this for your family" Iris said in an angry voice but they both knew she was only joking. "I guess i'll just have to finish myself" she started smirking when she saw her girlfriend's eyes full of desire.
"Send me a pic?" Iris walked to her girlfriend and placed her hands on her cheeks as she leaned in to whisper on her lips. "Fuck no, you're going to have to use your imagination baby"
"Mean, evil, heartless, cruel..." Amber started saying before Iris kissed her as she gently caressed her cheek. They both smiled into each other's mouth just enjoying the moment.
"Tell me when you're home okay? Be careful driving at night"
"Yes ma'am" Amber replied before kissing her cheek. She walked to the door and before she left, she turned to look at Iris one more time. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Iris laughed a sweet chuckle, she couldn't believe her girlfriend's clinginess. "Mmm I don't think so" The dark haired girl just stared at her as she waited, they both knew what she wanted to hear.
"I love you Amber"
She smiled. "I love you more Iris".
————————
Iris was bored as fuck. After saying goodbye to her girlfriend and lamenting the fact that she wasn't going to get laid today, she tried to concentrate on her homework but she couldn't formulate two sentences without thinking on the hundred things she would rather be doing. She gave up after 20 minutes and decided to call her best friend Mindy.
Mindy and Iris met on the first day of kindergarten when they both reached for the same toy. Did they take turns so both of them could play with it? No. Did Mindy try to forcefully take the toy out of Iris? Yes. Did Iris punch her in the face because of it? Also yes. Mindy of course being her, instead of crying, she high fived her and that was the amazing start of their friendship. Then came Chad and the three of them have been inseparable ever since.
Mindy had been there for her when her parents got divorced, she had been there for her when she lost her sister, been there for her when she realized she liked women and Mindy answered with a "girl me too". She had also been her shoulder to cry on when she got her first crush and got her heart broken because of it. Mindy was a constant in her life and she would always be grateful for the universe for putting their paths together.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of miss Morris calling me today" was the first thing Mindy said to her after she picked up the call.  "I'm bored, please distract me" Iris begged her friend.
"Is Amber not available? I bet she can keep you more entertained than me" she couldn't see her but Iris just knew Mindy was raising her eyebrows in a playful manner. That's what almost 10 years of friendship do to you.
Iris sighed, "She just left, her mum called and now I'm alone".
"So her mum basically cockblocked you, oh wait pussyblocked you? Is that a word?" Mindy continued to ramble.
"Im literally hanging up"
"No you're not, you love me"
"I will just call Chad, he is funnier than you anyway" Iris joked, chuckling at her friend's fake gasp as she lazily laid down on her bed.
"Well he just left with Liv so I guess you're stuck with me you ungrateful bitch"
"I thought they were fighting again, good to know they are getting better" Both Iris and Mindy didn't have an opinion on Liv yet, she wasn't really their friend but she wasn't bad either. It just annoyed them how she would treat Chad sometimes but if he was happy, they had nothing to say about it. Plus it was always entertaining to get on her nerves.
She was walking around her room as she talked to her friend.
Iris was deep into her conversation with Mindy when a sudden noise from outside startled her.
The sound, a soft, scraping rustle of leaves seemed to come from just outside her house. Iris paused, her heart thudding in her chest. She glanced toward the window, half-expecting to see a cat or a stray branch, but the movement continued, persistent and unnerving.
"Girl you okay" Mindy asked. "You stopped talking".
"Yeah sorry it's just... I think I've heard something outside of my window".
Mindy let the silence linger for a moment. "Well, glad to meet you before you die"
"Mindy what the fuck? You're the worst".
"Thank you".
Cautiously, she approached the window and peered out, her hands trembling slightly. Outside, the garden was empty and still. Her gaze scanned the space, looking for anything unusual, but everything seemed normal. She stepped back, her mind racing with unsettling thoughts as she forced herself to calm down.
"You dead?" She heard Mindy's voice through her phone.
"Still alive unfortunately" Jokes were always Iris's coping mechanism.  "You were talking about Chad and Liv?". She needed to forget the fear she just felt.
"Well he told me some things about their relationship..." Mindy casually slid that comment like that wasn't going to get all of Iris's attention.
"Like what, why are you putting suspense"
"He told me not to tell anyone dude, well he actually told me not to tell you specifically because you would make fun of him"Iris nodded even if the other person on the phone couldn't see her. "A very correct assumption"
"So yeah I can't tell you anything Ris" they both stayed silent on the line for a few seconds. " Anyways, here is what happened..."
Certainly to say Chad and his find my fam problems were the highlight of the night.
——————————————
The next day, she woke up by the sound of her alarm, expecting the day to be just like always, she didn't know that everything was about to change.
She was in her kitchen making breakfast when her mom appeared by the door with a grim look on her face.
"Jesus mom what's up with that face, are we hosting a funeral?". She tried to joke but her mother just kept staring at her with a pity look as she calmly walked to her.
"Mom you are worrying me"
"Iris dear i don't know how to say this, but I want you to take a breath and listen to me as calmly as you can" She didn't understand what was happening but now she was scared.
"It's about Tara... She was attacked last night at her house".
Iris was speechless, unable to move as she let her toast drop to the ground. Her breathing accelerated, pure horror clawing at her throat. Her mother wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"What you mean she was attacked mom, it's not possible, you are probably confused."
"She went through surgery and now she's stable but it's not looking good dear" Rachel told her sadly. "Judy contacted me earlier so that I could tell you, she spoke to your friend's family too"
Since the atrocities that took place in their hometown ten years ago, the sheriff and her mother have maintained a close relationship. Although Judy couldn't do anything to help her sister, she was always there for Rachel and Iris ensuring that they received the support they needed in order to learn how to cope with the loss.
"I know you guys are not speaking right now but I thought it was better you found out as soon as you could". She started to overthink as her mother kept talking. Who could do something like this and why Tara out of everyone in the town. She broke down in her mother's arms as the woman gently stroke her hair.
"I just don't understand how this could happen" her fingers trembled as she found herself speechless. "God mom she was probably alone when she was attacked. I can't imagine what she felt".
"I don't know darling but the way this all happened, it reminds me of..." She began to talk, but as she went on, her voice thinned to a whisper. She couldn't say it, she didn't even want to think about it but she knew it.
She knew deep down that what took place 10 years ago in Woodsboro, was happening again. The reason why her oldest daughter is dead. Her worst nightmare.
Ghostface was back. 10 years ago, Jill Roberts and Charlie Walker wore the infamous mask that took the life of Olivia, her daughter. And now she had to worry her second daughter didn't meet the same destiny.
——————————-
"I can't believe this is happening" Iris muttered as she waited for the rest of her friends to show up. She was sitting in a table outside of the school with Mindy.
"This is insane, poor Tara. Do you know anything else?"
"No, I only know what my mother told me. I just can't believe this is happening again Minds". She put her face in her hands while she felt Mindy's hand caressing her back.
"Hey everything is going to be fine, promise" Before she could answer, they saw Amber and Wes coming over to them. Iris inmediately went to Amber's side as the girl kissed her gently on the cheek. She sat in between her legs as Amber wrapped tightly her arms around her.
Wes looked down at his phone when he felt it buzz in his hand. "That was Sam". He explained to his friends as they all watched him expectantly.
"She's coming?" Amber asked him in astonishment.
"She is Tara's sister, how can she not come?" Iris replied to her girlfriend while playing with her fingers.
"Watch everything get worse". Amber sayid as she continued to gently caress her girlfriend. "Are you okay?" She whispered so no one else could hear. "I know this might be hard for you."
Iris knew that all of her friends were thinking it, hell she was thinking it too. Everyone knows what happened to Iris's sister and no one wants to make a comment that could potentially set her off.
"I'm just worried baby, for Tara and everyone else".
"All I'm saying is with everything going on right now. I think it's time we take our relationship to the next, most intimate level" Chad said while having his arm around Liv as they came over and sat at the table, taking the attention away from Iris.
"He wants me to accept his find my fam request" Liv explained to the group as she rolled her eyes.
"it's the safest option with a would-be killer on the loose, you know exactly where I am and I know exactly where you are." Chad addedin hopes to convince his girlfriend. Iris and Mindy shared a look and sent a smirk towards each other in amusement.
"Aw, you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend" Liv playfully spoke to him.
"And you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend" Chad replied cheerfully pointing to himself.
"Is this because you two aren't having sex yet?" Amber pretended to gag while she listened to them.
"Chad if you want some tips into how to get your girlfriend to want to sleep with you just ask me" Iris teased him as the group laughed. It worked as a distraction from everything thats going on.
"Iris, from the bottom of my heart, I hope you choke"
"Thanks buddy, anyway the only way I'm cool with choking it's with A..." she couldn't continue speaking as Amber put a hand over her mouth silencing her.
"She's joking"
"Am I?"
"You know what, you bring up a very good point" Chad told Amber while ignoring Iris comment. "Not that I want to sound like a stereotypical jock trying to get into his girl's pants..."
"Great" Liv answered with a smile and leaned down to kiss her boyfriend's cheek.
"Don't do it Liv. There's a psycho out there. You make yourself harder to find. Delete your social media, tape over you phone camera, disable GPS" Wes argued very seriously.
"Ah, yes, thank you very much Edward Snowden" Chad replied to him with a hint of annoyance. "Actually, your mother just interrogated me about Tara's attempted murder, which was very fun"
"I'm sure she's asking everybody. I mean, ghostface is back" Wes said looking at his mom. She was standing just a few meters away from them, having been talking to different people trying to find a clue or a suspect, safe to say she's not finding anything.
"The press still isn't saying ghostface." Mindy told him.
"My mom doesn't want to cause a panic" Wes hits back ready to defend his mother.
"It'll get out by the second or third killing"
Mindy informed them and immediately regrets it when she saw Iris's face. She was really young when her sister Olivia was murdered by ghostface so back then she didn't understand the implications behind it, but now she does and she can't but tense at the thought. Ghostface ended up being Olivia's bestfriends, she can't help but look around her friendgroup, wondering which one would be capable of doing something like that. She decides to drop that because she knew her friends would never, instead she just leaned into Amber chest looking for comfort.
"Jesus Mindy, there wasn't a first killing. Tara's alive" Amber told her with frowned eyebrows.
"Mmm. I know that but I mean, she could still die." Mindy said to her.
"What the fuck"
"Or the killer could come back for her" Mindy added shrugging while looking at her brother.
"Fuck Mindy, come on" Chad barked while motioning to Iris.
"I'm just telling you, arm up, okay?" Wes added. "Pepper spray, check. Taser, check--"
"Tasering Ghostface in the balls seems wonderful to me" Iris commented
"Girlfriend repellent, check" Amber mocked him, making them all laugh.
"Nice. Thank you" Wes muttered sarcastically.
"Holy shit. Is that... Vince?" Liv questioned, squinting her eyes to look at the street.
"Wait. That creep you hooked up with last summer?"
"Yeah. He worked with Me and Tara, he's been stalking my Instagram the last couple weeks, posting the creepiest shit." Liv explained to them as she kept looking at him.
"He looks old as fuck, what the hell was he doing with you?" Iris couldn't help but be indignant.
"Probably time to introduce him to Hobbs and Shaw" Chad said as he started flexing his muscles.
"Maybe not the best idea to incite violence right in front of the sheriff" Liv told him as they all watched Vincent throw kisses at them.
"Looks like he leaving, thanks anyway boys" Liv was happily laughing while touching Chad's muscles making his shirt go up a bit reveling some bruises.
"Tara says she fought back. You've got bruises" Amber noted.
"It's from football practice" Chad replied nervously.
"Oh, sure" Amber was being sarcastic. She then felt the brunette squeeze at her hand, a way of telling her to let it go.
"Tara's awake, she just texted. You guys are coming?" Wes informed the group, they all say yes except for Liv, apparently she had somewhere else to be.
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useless-catalanfacts · 8 months ago
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Hehehe.... Here's a post I think you people will like.
A while ago, I was asked about Catalan swear words. I answered it and I explained how very often we say "I shit on ..." and gave some examples. You can find that post here:
Yesterday, someone in Catalan Twitter tweeted asking what are your favourite swearings, and I think you might like to hear what people answered. So here it goes!
Així plogués tant, que els ànecs arribessin a mossegar els collons de Déu! = This way may it rain so much that ducks could reach to bite God's bollocks.
AixĂ­ baixi una olla del cel, amb el cap de DĂ©u per tapadora! = This way may a cooking pot fall from Heaven/sky with God's head as the lid!
Cagum tots los sants posats en un bocoi amb DĂ©u per tap! = I shit on all the saints placed inside a hogdhead (large cask barrel) with God as the lid!
Cagum la veta del capdavall de la cama dreta de les calces del pagĂšs que va plantar la primera fava que va menjar l'ase que va dur la Mare de DĂ©u a Egipte! = I shit on the ribbon of the lowest part of the right leg of the trousers of the farmer who planted the first bean that was eaten by the donkey that took the Virgin Mary to Egypt!
Cagum Sant Hilari i tots els sants del calendari, i si em deixés algun per dir, me cagum la mare que el va parir. = I shit on Saint Hilarius and all the saints on the calendar; and if I had missed saying any of them, I shit on the mother that gave birth to them. (But in Catalan it rhymes).
Cagum DĂ©u i el que portava la creu, i el que la va fer que era fuster = I shit on God and the guy who carried the cross, and the guy who made it who was a carpenter (in Catalan it rhymes) or Cagum DĂ©u, la creu i el fuster que la feu = I shit on God, the cross, and the carpenter who made it (also rhymes).
Em cago en els quatre puntals que aguanten la cagadora de DĂ©u = I shit on the four stakes that hold up God's shitting hole. (Maaaany people have said this one or variations of it)
Em cago en la puta que va arribar a parir el paleta que va fer les quatre pilastres que aguantaven la cagadora de DĂ©u i tots els sants = I shit on the whore who reached the point of giving birth to the bricklayer who built the four pilars what held up the shitting hole of God and all the saints.
Cagum Sant Roc, el gos i la mare que els va parir tots dos = I shit on Saint Roch, the dog, and the mother who gave birth to both.
Me cago en la tita del dimoni porc = I shit on the pig demon's dick.
Cago'n la sang d'un banc i el fetge d'una cadira coixa = I shit on a bench's blood and a lame chair's liver.
Em cago en els claus dels peus de Cristu crucificat = I shit on the screws/nails on crucified Christ's feet.
Em cago en l'ou que va fer la gallina que va servir per fer el caldo de la Mare de DĂ©u quan era partera = I shit on egg that was laid by the chicken that was used to make the broth for the Virgin Mary when she had just given birth.
Me cagum SatanĂ s clavat dalt d'un cirerer = I shit on Satan nailed to the top of a cherry tree.
Mal davallés el secretari de Déu, vestit de torero = Wouldn't God's secretary come down, dressed as a bullfighter.
What swearings do you say when something goes wrong? In my house, the most common one is a simple one: collons de mico (monkey bollocks).
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spacespheal · 1 month ago
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Inktober day 19: Neige LeBlanche // Una monja amb nassos
Una monja amb nassos (look, the title of the story it's a play on words in catalan with "nose" that I cannot translate literally), it's a folktale from el Maresme.
It says that the charterhouse of Montalegre, near Tiana, was an agustine nun mastery before it was inhabited by Carthusian monks. There there lived a young nun who everyday went down to gather water from the nearby fountain, known nowadays as Font de les Monges (Nun's Fountain).
One day the nun met a knight near the fountain, who fell in love with her upon seeing her for the first time. The nun instead got frightened and fled back to the monastery, with the "cĂ ntir" (a traditional water contaiment) empty.
The following day the knight was waiting for her, and she once again fled, although slower this time, and the next day she stayed at the fountain. While the cĂ ntir was filling up, the knight declared his undying love to her, which surprised her and said that he was acting crazy, to which the knight responded that it was her angelic face what was causing his behaviour, to be more specific her cute button nose.
The nun tried to reason with him, but he just ignored her and asked or her hand in marriage, which she declined immediately but he kept insisting and in the end she relented enough to ask for a few days to think it over.
The day she had to give her answer, she went to the fountain where the knight was waiting. There she gave her answer by her cutting her nose and gifting it to him. Frightened by her actions the knight fled back home while dropping the nose onto the ground, where now grows a tree known as "'l'arbre dels nassos" (the tree of noses).
It is unknown if the nun survived her self inflicted mutilation.
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kori-dearest · 8 months ago
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Aoughh lamb designs đŸ‘đŸ»đŸ‘đŸ»đŸ‘đŸ»đŸ‘đŸ» design notes under the cut
Pre genocide:
- in my heart sheep society was a small closed city with many, smaller nomadic groups, mostly moving around to sell luxury artisan goods like wool and textiles <333
- The Vessel (who I’ve named Latifamb, I’ll explain it later) was a traveling guard for one of these merchant groups, hence why he is already skilled with many of the weapons The Crown provides.
-the way sheep names work is a lamb gets a given name, and their family’s suffix is put at the end of that name. So The Vesseel’s given name is Latif, and his family suffix is -amb.
-i love tassels, so a lot of their clothing is tassel based <3
- their colors are mostly blue to make the white of their wool look even whiter.
-cleanliness is wildly important to Sheep, as their wool is their livelihood.
- Latifamb keep his wool as long as he can without it getting in the way of his work, mostly because his coil pattern is perfect for many of the crafts his partners enjoy making.
- he has a husband and two wives, all of whom he adores with his entire heart <3 this is shown with two earrings in his left ear, and one in his right, all three handcrafted by the spouse they represent <3 one of his wives was pregnant, and he was preparing to have a nose piercing to signify his new role as a father when news of the Bishops’ genocide came.
Sacrifice:
- Latifamb was out of the city on a job when the news first hit, and though the group tried to return to their city before it got really bad, they were too far away to make it in time. Latifamb’s family was gone, and he removed his jewelry to signify their passing- only leaving the earring of his pregnant wife in hopes that they would meet again, and he could properly meet his son.
- he did his best to protect his group, but eventually failed, and ran to protect himself. He feels an unimaginable about of shame for leaving them, despite the fact that they were dead long before he could have saved them.
-he becomes malnourished and thin, his wool oily and falling out from stress.
- he develops a limp in his right leg, one he never seems to shake
- he was finally captured and put to sacrifice, his clothing ragged and his wool dirty, wishing for nothing but a quick death and to see his family in the afterlife.
-instead, he became The Vessel.
Cult Leader:
- Latifamb continues the Sheeps’ naming convention, allowing each follower to keep their given name, and just adding the Amb suffix, because they are all his children now <3
-he learns that death is not the end for sheep, and reconnects his earrings- as well as gets a nose ring for his never-born son
-as the years go by, Latifamb forgets his own name, only remembering his family suffix. The One Who Waits calls him The Lamb, so
 that must be his name.
- there are very few animals with wool left, so locking his wool seemed the easiest way to keep it protected.
- the lamb adorns his locks in gold rings to signify each of his followers, removing and replacing them as his flock grows and wains.
- he still needs shearing now and then, and he makes a minor celebration out of it- mostly a feast, and he makes a show out of teaching his disciples how Sheep would handle their wool and make crafts with it, allowing younger followers to use his wool in their own works.
- he is a gentle, quiet soul. He treats his followers fairly, and would do anything for them. He’s very well known for his occasional rambling life lesson stories- if you ask him for any advice he’ll give it to you, but you definitely have to hear one thousand years of Lamb Lore before you get a straightforward answer.
-he visits Narinder often, mostly to chat between missions. Though he adores his followers
. It’s much easier to talk to someone who actually understands the loneliness of eternal life.
-he has a little pouch on his ankle which he keeps a single coin in. He gives it to Narinder every revival as a small “tithe” for revival. Narinder never asked for it, nor does he ever require it, but they’re both so used to the habit that they just can’t seem to stop.
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