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#between last night and a nap earlier today
slav-every-day · 5 months
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b-blushes · 1 year
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experiencing what they might call "did some unavoidable activities that were way above regular activity level as an individual with disabilities that Don't Like It When You Do This" and it's not my favourite sensation/dimension to exist in. like i'm fine but also. i feel haunted :P
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sturniqlo · 3 months
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In Between- M.S
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summary: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother
cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end
an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)
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Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.
A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?
Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.
After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.
Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.
"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."
Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.
"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."
Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.
"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."
"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.
"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."
"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.
"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."
"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."
"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"
"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."
"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.
Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.
"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.
"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."
"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."
"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."
"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.
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bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months
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Remind Me - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband.
A/N: this is my first real attempt at angst but I ended up making it smutty and fluffy as well so there's that. I was inspired and got a little carried away. Inspired by Remind Me by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader
content/warnings: angst, allusions to cheating, allusions to divorce, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, Bradley being an unattentive husband bc he's clueless, fluffy ending.
word count: 4.6k
"Been so long that you'd forget, the way I used to kiss your neck Remind me, remind me So on fire, so in love, way back when we couldn't get enough Remind me, remind me"
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You pulled into the driveway of your beachfront home, the salty Californian breeze encompassing you as you turned the key in the front door, a bag of groceries nestled on your hip as you pushed the door open. A deafening silence came over you as you walked through the entryway, and you noticed that your husband, Bradley, was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t unusual for Bradley to fall asleep in front of the tv on a Sunday afternoon, the drone of sports commentary providing a backdrop to his nap, a neglected bottle of beer warming on the coffee table, condensation tracing its descent down the amber glass. However, today, the usual harmonic sounds of Sportscenter and Bradley's gentle snores was conspicuously absent, replaced by an eerie quiet that settled around you like a heavy blanket, an empty couch, and a note on your kitchen counter - Bradley’s idea of conveying information that wasn’t life or death - scribbled in his distinct, masculine penmanship. 
“Hey beautiful, be back soon, out for golf and beers with the boys - B.” 
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable escapades, a mixture of annoyance and resignation washing over you. You let out a long huff as you set the groceries down on the counter, the rustle of paper bags echoing in the stillness of the kitchen. As you meticulously organized the contents into the fridge and pantry, your gaze fell upon the neglected stack of dirty dishes occupying the sink. Their number seemed to have multiplied since the previous night, despite Bradley’s assurances that he would take care of them. You had even reminded him earlier that morning, amidst sips of your morning coffee, only to receive a distracted hum and a vague nod as he scrolled through his phone, his attention elsewhere. This wasn’t anything new for you - Bradley often had a single tracked mind, unable to focus his attention on more than one thing at a time when he wasn’t in the cockpit of a plane, but lately, it felt like every conversation you tried to invoke was one-sided, with Bradley giving little more than a half-hearted “mhmm” in response, regardless of the topic.
As you closed the fridge, you noticed that your dry-erase calendar had a new date encircled in pink, with Bradley’s unmistakeable writing on display in the center. 
“Mission: 3 wks?” 
“Of course you have another fucking mission,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.
The realization hit you like a freight train, slamming into your heart with a pang of unfairness. Bradley's profession demanded his constant departure and return, but the frequency of his missions seemed almost cruel, especially considering the fleeting moments of bliss you shared during his brief stints at home. Six weeks had barely passed since his last return, yet it felt as if his presence was unchanged from the way it had been when he was gone.
Between rigorous training sessions and endless briefings, Bradley sought solace in the camaraderie of his buddies – Jake, Reuben, and Mickey – the trio of bachelors who seemed to relish in their freedom. Their escapades ranged from impromptu drinks to leisurely rounds at the driving range, filled with a sense of masculinity and adventure that Bradley found himself longing to be a part of. Approaching the dreaded milestone of forty, he yearned for the carefree attitude he held in his youth, reminiscing about the exhilarating escapades of his twenties and earlier thirties - ending right around 36 years old when he met you.
In a bid to reclaim some form of that lost spontaneity, Bradley had tentatively ventured into his friends realm, seeking companionship in their revelries. Initially relegated to the role of designated driver, his latent talent for piano and penchant for serenading transformed him into the life of the party. What started as a sporadic outing soon morphed into a monthly ritual, then gradually escalated into a seemingly incessant cycle where every day not spent on base was dedicated to partying it up with "the boys"
As you sank into the welcoming embrace of the couch, enveloped by its plush cushions, a sense of desolation washed over you like a tidal wave. Clutching a pint-sized tub of ice cream to your chest, you sought solace in the flickering glow of the television, scanning through channels in a futile attempt to distract yourself from the gnawing ache within until Bradley came home. Settling on a marathon of romantic comedies on one of the dozens of channels that seem to play nothing but movies and reruns of old sitcoms, you blinked back tears as you watched the romance unfold on tv, all while feeling like your own was slowly dying.
It was three and a half hours later when Bradley finally came clattering through the door, a couple beers deep. You heard him clumsily kick his deck shoes off at the door, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked down the hall with heavy steps. You did your best to ignore him, wanting to make it clear that you were upset, but not having the fight in you after three and a half hours of crying into a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream over Katherine Heigl and James Marsden and Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas and their romantic gestures, tender embraces and declarations of love and happily ever afters. You fixed your eyes on the tv as you caught sight of Bradley from the corner of your eye, his fluorescent pink golf shirt almost impossible to ignore. 
As Bradley's voice echoed through the living room, infused with a hint of playful banter, you felt a pang of resignation tugging at your heartstrings. His honeyed drawl, his sun-kissed glow and his almost blonde highlights cascading through his curls, created a striking contrast against the solemnity that enveloped the room. With sunglasses perched atop his head like a crown, Bradley sauntered into view, his caramel-colored eyes scanning the scene before him with a mixture of concern and confusion.
“Hey honey! When’d you get home? You watchin’ one of those chick flicks?”, he spoke with a playful tone, an underlying hint of apprehension lingering in the air. 
Ignoring his inquiry, you remained in your silence, your gaze fixed upon the flickering images on the television screen. Bradley's brow furrowed, the lines etching across his forehead as he searched for a clue amidst the sea of your emotions.
“Aw, I don’t mean chick flick in a bad way, baby, I’m just teasin’”, he continued, his voice laced with a soft plea for understanding. “Some of them aren’t so bad, you know, I like a couple of ‘em.” 
When he was once again met with silence, Bradley took a couple of steps closer to where you lay on the couch, moving his tall, six-foot-three, athletic frame into your line of view. You continued to focus on the tv, finding it nearly impossible to ignore the neon hue of Bradley’s polo shirt now, noticing how he’d paired it with a basic pair of khaki shorts and his Ray-Ban aviators that he never left home without. He knit his brows together as he watched you, his eyes wafting over to the now empty ice cream tub with a single spoon sitting inside, resting on the coffee table. He hummed softly - something he often did when he was trying to think, as a confused look started forming on his face.
“Baby, come on, what’s bothering ya?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, “Did I do somethin’? ‘Cause if I did, I’m sorry for whatever it is.”
“You aren’t,” you finally responded, not breaking eye contact with Ryan Gosling as he appeared on the tv. 
“I’m not what, babe?”
“Sorry. You’re not sorry. You never are sorry.”
“Honey, I’m not following ya.”
You huffed and shook your head as you sat up on the couch, wiping your eyes as you felt the hot tears stinging them once again as they threatened to make a return. A raw aching feeling built up within you as you took a deep breath, preparing to have the conversation you’d been dreading for who-knows-how-long. You looked down at your wedding band for a moment, the sight of it nearly enough to trigger painful sobs as you braced yourself for what was about to transpire between you and your husband.
“You’re not sorry. You’re never home because you choose to never be home. You’re not sorry for it. It’s like you don’t want to be around me, Bradley,” you started slowly, shaking your head as the tears began to fall.
“Baby, hang on-” Bradley begins before you cut him off. 
“Look, Bradley, if you’re unhappy-”
“Unhappy? Baby, no, I could never be unhappy with you, what are you talking about?” Bradley cooed, kneeling down beside the couch as he brushed your hair behind your ear in a tender gesture to ermphasize his point.
“Are you seeing other women when you go out with the guys?” You say bluntly, giving Bradley a stare that practically burns right through him.
“What?! Honey, I think you’re getting the wrong idea here.”
“It’s really not that far-fetched, Bradley. You’re always wanting to go out with your only single friends, you constantly go out to play wingman with them at bars to help them get laid, then when you’re home, you never listen to me, it’s like I may as well be talking to myself most of the time. I only seem to see you if you’re hungry or asleep and that’s only because you can’t boil water to save your life and our bed is the only one in the house that always has clean sheets on it.”
“Babe, I don’t know who the fuck you think you married-” Bradley protested.
“Oh, really? Mr. “Didn’t-get-married-until-he-was-38-because-he-liked-picking-up-girls-in-bars-better? Wasn’t it because that was more convenient for you? Because then you’d never have a “little lady back home to worry about” whenever you went away?”
“That was before I met you, the minute I met you, I stopped wanting to do any of that bullshit. Our first date, I knew I wanted to marry you, honey.”
“That doesn’t mean that’s how you feel now, does it?! I mean, Christ’s sake, Bradley, when was the last time you even kissed me?! Let alone had sex with me, for fuck’s sake. I thought you wanted to try having kids soon once you got your promotion settled,” you said as your voice cracked, shaking your head. 
“Honey, please,” Bradley began pleading, shaking his head. 
You abruptly stood up from the couch, walking away from him and heading towards the kitchen. You opened the fridge, conveniently using the door to block Bradley from your sight, your anger towards him boiling towards the edge now. You grabbed yourself a drink and cracked the top off with the bottle opener, slamming the fridge door shut. Bradley held his hands up in defense as he looked at you, an expression of complete astoundment on his face.
“Baby, I may not be the smartest man out there, but I’m not unfaithful, you know that. I know you know that deep down.” 
“Bradley, I don’t know what I know anymore. I used to know that you loved me too, but that doesn’t seem to hold true.”
“What are you talking about?! Honey, you know that I love you.”
“Do I?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Sweetheart, I’ve never loved anyone like I do you. I know showing it isn’t my strong suit - I never got to see much of an example other than pictures of my folks, but I know damn well that I look at you the same way my dad looked at my mom. And I know that I’ve never, in the four years since we started dating, ever, as much as entertained the idea of being with another woman. I married you. Remember? You were there. Better or worse, sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part, all that?”
“It’s pretty easy to vow to love someone for better or for worse when you’re never fucking around, isn’t it, Bradley?!”
“Well forgive me for fighting for our fucking country, Honey. What, you want me to just walk away from my duty?”
“Your country and your boys come before your wife, do you not see how fucked up that is?”
“You come first, always. I work as hard as I do at work for you. I try to work my ass off to get promotions and be leader on missions so I can make sure you’re taken care of. So that if anything ever happened to me, you’d be set, you’d never have to worry about a thing.”
“I don’t want that! I want you. You could pump gas for a living or be a lifeguard on the beach for all I fucking care. All I know is, the man I married isn’t here anymore, and I don’t know where he went or why.”
Bradley shook his head angrily and scoffed. His face began to turn red as he narrowed his eyes, beginning to talk with his hands. 
“I’m the same fucking guy! Babe, is this seriously because I went golfing this afternoon?”
“No, Bradley, it’s because you’ve been home for six weeks and you haven’t as much as kissed me since you got home off the last mission, and I just saw that you put a new three week one on the calendar. You leave in 10 days and you didn’t even tell me! What, were you just going to fuck off and go when it came and not say a word?”
An awkward hush fell over the two of you, echoing throughout the house. Bradley looked to his feet, remaining quiet as he shook his head. He sighed loudly and pressed his hand to his forehead before looking up at you again. 
“Honey, believe me, I only found out this morning, I was going to tell you…but,” He frowns as he realizes why he didn’t tell you. “But then Jake called, and I wanted to blow off steam about it, so I agreed to hit a few holes with him. But, Baby, I swear to you, I am the exact same Lieutenant Bradshaw who asked you out on a date four years ago. Remember? I almost missed a briefing just to talk to you. Nearly got my ass in trouble for it, but you were worth every second.”
You looked up at Bradley, sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip as you shook your head, almost in disbelief as you remembered how you and Bradley had met. 
You were visiting Coronado for the day, your first trip over the San Diego Bay since moving to the city from Colorado Springs. The sun had been shining as you strolled through the picturesque town on the Pacific coast. Bradley had been walking up to one of the dozens of restaurants that scattered the main strip for lunch with a couple of his comrades, dressed in his khaki uniform as he waited in line for his food, his tanned skin and broad shoulders catching your eye almost immediately. He flashed a smile at you, and in that moment, you’d managed to forget your own name, completely entranced by the man in front of you. 
From there, Bradley had asked you to sit with him for lunch, leaving his friends behind at a nearby picnic table. The two of you had so much fun simply talking that he didn’t realize the time, or that his friends had already left, and that he had to be back on base for a briefing in 10 minutes. He’d quickly exchanged numbers with you and practically sprinted back to his car - a 1972 Ford Bronco in pristine condition, something you remembered about him immediately, a detail you’d found yourself looking for on your outings in the downtown core of San Diego, in case he’d made the trip to your side of the bridge for some reason. 
A week later you were on a second date, and from there, your relationship became official soon after, with a marriage proposal happening on your first anniversary when Bradley arrived home from a mission. He saw you waiting for him on base, standing there in a pale blue sundress, looking even more beautiful than he’d remembered when he left a few weeks prior. He ran up to you, picking you up and swirling you around as he held you close, kissing you more passionately than he’d ever done before. No sooner than he put you back down, he dropped to one knee and asked you to be his wife, and you said yes, without an ounce of hesitation. 
“Bradley,” you sighed sadly, shaking your head as you looked up at him. 
“Honey, I swear to you, from the day that I asked you to sit down for lunch with me, I have never even looked at another woman. All I ever do for the guys when we go out is offer to talk to a girl on Jake’s behalf after he fucks it up and I have to go explain that his brain stopped maturing once he hit about age 15 when it comes to women. He thinks with his dick sometimes and gets his dumbass in trouble. I just go smooth it over so he doesn’t get a kick to the nuts or arrested for something stupid, like fighting some girl’s boyfriend.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, Sweetheart, oh my God, you really thought I was cheating on you? What would any other woman have that you don’t? I’m just there babysitting Jake, and, I usually get a free beer and a plate of Buffalo wings out of the deal.”
“You...you do it for chicken wings?”
“I mean, I do it to hang out with my friends in situations where we’re not planning a mission or flying like our asses depend on it because we might not make it home otherwise.”
You nod your head slowly as everything suddenly starts making sense. It wasn’t that Bradley didn’t want to be with you, it was that he wanted some sense of normalcy with his friends, instead of what had become normal for them at work. You could appreciate it, even if Bradley was going about things the wrong way. 
“Can I show you something?” He said softly, cautiously reaching out to take you by the hand as you nodded your head.
Bradley pulled you in close to his body, wrapping you up in his strong arms and holding you in a passionate embrace as he kissed you with everything he had in him. His lips hungrily kissed at yours, his tongue flitting out to trace your bottom lip as you parted your mouth just so to allow him access. A soft, breathy moan escaped from your throat as you kissed Bradley, the passion overtaking you as he gently pulled away, still hovering above your mouth.
“I want to remind you how much I love you.”
Without another word, Bradley hoisted you up onto the counter, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you towards him. He knelt down in front of you, gently tapping your inner thigh with his hand as you parted your legs for him. Bradley pulled your comfy shorts down off your waist, dragging them down your legs before dropping them to the floor. He ducked his head down between your thighs as his hands rested on you, pulling you ever so slightly in towards him. His tongue licked a long, slow trail up your slit, eliciting a loud, breathy gasp from your lips. 
Bradley’s tongue began to work at you, licking and sucking at your sensitive clit as you tilted your head back. Your fingers raked their way into his curls, tugging gently on them as you guided his head in to your center, a whine leaving your lips as you felt him encircling it with his tongue, his touch delicate, yet passionate, as if he was making this his life’s work. You felt his tongue tracing shapes on you - letters, almost, and Bradley’s muffled voice had a tone of seduction to it as he spoke, his lips vibrating against your swollen, puffy cunt, sending a whole new sensation through you.
“Bradley!” You cried out, throwing your head forward to watch what he was doing, “I-I’m getting close, honey.”
Bradley looked up at you from under hooded lids as he watched your facial expressions, loving how your body was reacting to his touch. There was a newfound look of determination in his eyes as he slipped two of his long, slender fingers inside of you without breaking contact with his mouth. The feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot and his combination of licking and sucking at your clit like a man starved was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs began to quiver as you felt yourself approach your climax, screaming out Bradley’s name, making it the only sound that could be heard echoing through your empty house.
“Gonna explain what the fuck that new technique of yours is?” You panted as you came down from your euphoria, your head spinning as you stared at Bradley, who was wiping his chin with the back of his hand and sporting a look of pure pride.
“My wedding vows,” He shrugged, as if this was the most obvious explanation in the world.
“Your vows? You recited your vows?”
“Sure did, babygirl. Had to show you I remembered them somehow, figured that was better than me reciting them while bending you over the countertop. I’m not done convincing you just yet though.” 
He smirked, taking you by the hand as he helped you down off the counter. Bradley turned you around, your back facing him as he placed his firm, strong hand on you, guiding you as you bent over and rested your hands on the cold marble surface in front of you. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you realized your husband’s methods of making it up to you - he was never great with words, spoken apologies usually ended up coming out wrong, words getting tangled and twisted on his tongue, unable to string together a coherent sentence that held any meaning. However, what Bradley lacked in his communication, he made up for with his actions, doing whatever grandiose measure he could to make it up to you. 
Bradley’s broad hand stroked your back, running down to your ass as he gave it a playful squeeze. He let out a low groan as he undid his golf shorts, hurriedly kicking them off behind him. Bradley gave his cock a few quick strokes with his hand before running his tip along your dripping wet slit to tease you.
“Ready for me, Honey?” He purred, grinning as he watched you tense up as you felt him brush against your clit.
“Bradley, so help me, if you don’t stop teasing me-” your sentence was cut off abruptly as you felt Bradley buck his hips forward, pushing his length into your entrance. 
You whined as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, feeling full as he bottomed out inside of you, Bradley leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder as he gave you time to adjust. Bradley stood himself upright, lining his hips up with yours as he pulled back before giving a hard thrust forwards. He began pumping himself in and out of you, snapping his hips into a rhythm as he held your hips in place with his hands. Each thrust was sharp and calculated, hitting all the right places in perfect timing. There was one thing your husband prided himself on more than anything, and that was how well he made love to his wife. 
“That’s it, Honey, you look so pretty taking my cock like this,” Bradley hummed, his voice sultry and smooth as he praised you.
“Bradley, harder.” You commanded, whining as you felt an aching need for him to let you cum. 
Bradley began thrusting deeper into you, taking less care to be gentle with each movement. You felt your knees buckling with pleasure as he thrusted, and the sounds coming from both you and Bradley were beyond obscene, but in the best possible way. 
“Baby, I’m getting close,” He breathed, tilting his head back and panting. “Do you want me to pull out?”
“No!” You responded, clenching your thighs around him, in a more zealous response than you intended. “Need you, Bradley. I don’t care what happens. I need you.”
You could almost hear the change in tone from Bradley as soon as you spoke. Except, instead of killing the mood, like you’d anticipated, Bradley began fucking himself into you harder than before, almost desperate as he gripped your hips tightly. 
“You want me to fill you up, my pretty girl? Want me to cum in that tight little pussy of yours?” He husked, his body practically giving way to pleasure as he thought about it.
“Mhmm!” was all you could muster out of you as you nodded your head, feeling yourself reach your orgasm again, your walls clenching around him tightly.
“Fuck, Honey, you got it. Anything you want, Babygirl, I’ve got ya.” He babbled as he fell apart inside of you.
You placed your palms flat against the counter to hold yourself steady as Bradley’s thrusts became sloppier, slowing until they reached a gradual stop. He held his positon inside of you for a few moments while he caught his breath, almost too exhausted to move. As he pulled out, you let out a deep sigh, almost aching at the now emptiness in you. 
You finally got air back into your lungs as you stood upright, turning to face him as you leaned your back against the counter. Your gaze fell on Bradley, a blissful look of exhaustion on your face. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his curls now slightly dampened from a mixture of the Californian humidity and the passionately wild sex you’d just had. Bradley gave you a crooked grin as he gently put his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to him. 
“How was that for my apology? Or do you need me to do it again? ‘Cause if you give me like, an hour, I’ll go grab one of those Body whatever drinks Jake always has after a workout and I’ll be good to go for another round,” Bradley chuckled, stroking your hair.
“It was good, you’re forgiven. But,” you paused, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’d appreciate it if you spent a little more time with me. Maybe we could catch a ball game together, go for a road trip or something.”
“You know what? That sounds like a great idea. I’ve got tomorrow and the next day off. We could drive up to Malibu or something. Hell, Vegas is only four hours. May as well check that off our bucket list while we still can.”
“While we still can?” You cocked your head to the side, giving him an incredulous look.
“Well, you just begged me not to pull out…and if it’s alright by you, I’d kinda like to see what happens if we kept doing that,” Bradley said with a playful grin, laughing as he stroked your cheek.
“Oh, is that so?” You smirked, shaking your head at him. 
“Well, this road trip will give us four hours and a lot of desert to pull over in. You’ll get lots of chances to see what happens.” 
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husbandhoshi · 7 months
Text
[9:17 PM]
"no." you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. "nononono."
you thought the worst thing that could happen already happened—you discovered your favorite noodle place wasn't open today, and you were forced to make your peace with that. (albeit with tears. and utter devastation.)
turns out that didn't even scratch the surface of terrible, no good things that could happen today, because now, your roommate junhui is at the front door and he's the absolute last person you want to see today.
on any other day, this would be fine. good, even.
when you first moved in with junhui, you never expected to become good friends. really, you were just happy to have a place to sleep—at first, he was just some guy, and the fact that he was a medical student was a cool bonus.
that is, until you sprained your ankle going down the stairs four months ago. he wrapped it on the futon in the living room and then proceeded to keep you company for the rest of the night while you wrestled with an ice pack. it was then when you learned what it felt like to fall in love, hopelessly and instantly.
you hear him jiggle the door handle again. he likely forgot his keys, and you would let him in until you consider the fact that you look no better than a mole rat at the moment. you woke up this morning with a fever and a wicked headache, and neither of those have gotten better since then. you don't even think you've left your room yet today.
"please don't tell me you're taking a nap," he whines, muffled by the door. "i got pizza."
fuck.
you peel yourself out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity. not good. if you had a choice, you would want to greet him in something other than your two-day pajamas. unfortunately, your only option at the moment is slapping on some lip gloss and calling it a day, and it's now that you begin contemplating the absolute death of a possibility of having a shot with junhui. hot guys like him don't date mole rats, even if they're wearing lip gloss.
finally you reach the front door, resigned to your fate. maybe you really should get back on the apps, as much as you hate to say it.
"sorry," you say as you let junhui in. "i was in bed."
he's in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. he must have had a long day today, but he still smiles at you with as much warmth as always. it makes your heart actually hurt, as if you aren't feeling sick enough.
"i figured— 's ok. it's pizza time," he chants. "you eat yet?"
you hide your face as you grab him a plate. the answer is no (soup or bust was your earlier conclusion), but you don't want to risk getting him sick, especially after he spent a whole day in the hospital. it's then when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.
"hey, you good?" you're met with junhui's eyes, now squinty as he looks you over. "are you sick, or are you just happy to see me? 'cause you look warm."
"um." you swallow hard, feeling bare. if you knew you would be this close to his face, you would have at least run a comb through your hair. "i might have a teeny, tiny little temperature. maybe."
that's all you need to say. he immediately brings the back of his hand to your forehead, and if you weren't already doomed, you sure are now.
"maybe a little more than tiny, huh?" he chuckles. "let me get you some meds."
you like how he doesn't scold you for not telling him sooner or guilt you for causing trouble after work. you watch him rifle through the cabinets, muttering to himself about this and that, and you start to feel a little silly about worrying what he thought of you.
"take these," he says, putting a couple of pills in your palm before opening a water bottle for you. "and follow my finger."
you watch him draw a square with his pointer finger before he brings it in between your eyes so they cross.
"i-is everything ok?" you squeak.
"yeah," he laughs. "it's just cute when you do that."
cute?! you thank god he wasn't using that stethoscope on you, because he definitely would have diagnosed you with something right on the spot. instead, you take your meds, grateful that he didn't ask whether or not you had more than a tablespoon of water today (spoiler alert—you didn't).
you're still mentally scrambling to decode what he could possibly be talking about when he bends down to meet your eyes.
"you're lucky. it's not terminal." you try to fight the corners of your mouth from turning up at his incredibly lame joke, but it doesn't work—instead, you smile, and you watch him smile back. "but you should get some rest. i need you alive this weekend."
"w-why?"
you feel your stomach drop to your knees, even though that's anatomically impossible, and you're not sure what a heart attack really is, but you think you just had one.
he needs to stop looking at you like that, or you will do some damage.
"you wanted to go to that new restaurant down the street, right? i have the day off."
"you mean, like a d—"
"like a date." he hands you your water bottle. "i'm asking you on a date. now get some rest, okay?"
you feel like a walking skeleton as he turns you around to face the door to your room. you want to fall to your knees and jump for joy all at once, but you plan to save that for when your bedroom door is shut tight behind you. if the bedhead wasn't enough, acting like even more of a fool in front of him would definitely scare him off.
"i like the lip gloss, by the way," he hollers after you. "nice touch."
you turn back to glare at him, because now he's just bullying you. you wonder how long he knew about your little problem, which would be humiliating if you weren't so down bad.
"what? you love me."
but he's right. you do, you really do. and you guess he just might love you back too.
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iovevrse · 7 months
Text
broken clocks, p. bueckers pt. 3
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broken clocks masterlist
pairings: paige bueckers x fem reader
synopsis: when you met paige, you thought the two of you would have one of those cheesy high school love stories that lasted for years. you were wrong.
cw: slight smut (theyre 18), hs p, angst, first personn
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1 Year Earlier
After that night, Paige and I talked at the pizza place. It had been as if we’d immediately become a more significant part of each other’s lives. We did everything together, and from that point on, it had been rare for me to miss a Hopkins game day.
Today was no different from the usual routine we’d adapted. It was a Friday night, and Paige had a late practice, so I’d made my way to her house to wait in her room for her. Coming over despite Paige not being there herself had been Paige’s idea. She still wanted me to come over but didn't want me to have to drive so late at night. She said her dad wouldn’t mind, but that didn’t make him any less confused when I’d shown up on his doorstep for the first time, and he told me Paige was at practice. I informed him I knew that and that his daughter said I could come over and wait for her to get back. Nonetheless, the man let me in, still confused, but he didn’t doubt it was something his daughter would do.
I sat on her bed waiting, typing away on my computer in an attempt to add something to my English essay that was due Sunday night before Paige came back. Despite Paige claiming it would be time to “lock in” on schoolwork, I knew nothing would get done tonight. She, in fact, never locked in. She just put on music and took a nap.
Like usual, Paige barged into the room with her two backpacks slugged over her shoulders. She threw them on the floor and immediately crashed into the bed, wrapping her arm around her pillow. “Hey P,” I muttered, still typing my essay, “how was practice?” I ask. She mumbled a “good” response before turning around in the bed and pulling me down with her. She wrapped her arms around my waist and cuddled me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had always been the kind of friend that was touchy, but this was different than usual. I just figured practice had tired her out completely. Maybe they had to run laps or something. I closed my computer and set it on the floor before laying in her arms, not saying a word. We’d both fallen asleep like that and a few hours later, we’d woken up.
Paige yawned and checked her phone. The time read 2:30 AM, and I rested my head on the blonde’s chest. That’s when she looked at me. I looked back, and I felt this tight feeling in my chest. I’d always noticed it happen when it came to Paige’s gaze. She had this ability to make whoever she was with or talking to the main thing her eyes were set on. We’d stayed looking at each other for what felt like forever until she leaned in, kissing me softly.
That soft kiss had escalated, and as soon as I knew it, the tall blonde was on top of me, kissing me harder than before. Paige then made her way down my body, planting light kisses. Before she had made it between my legs, her blue eyes looked at me with that same gaze again, more intense and clouded than before. “Is this ok?” the blonde whispered, her voice as raspy as it always was after waking up from a nap.
I just nodded in response, and she continued to trail kisses on my thighs, inside and out, before sliding my shorts and baby pink undies off. She looked up at me again, same as before, begging for my approval again, and once she got it, her tongue started to slowly lick at my folds, her middle finger sliding in and accompanying her tongue’s movements. Before I knew it, I was covering my face with a pillow to stay quiet and not wake up Paige’s parents or brothers.
Current Day
Seeing Paige again had brought back every negative and positive emotion I’d ever felt or had about the girl. I thought I’d done so well to forget about her until it came to having to see her again. I cursed myself for not playing it normal and acting unbothered when I saw her. You prepare yourself mentally for so many situations, telling yourself that you’d do one thing or another just for the time to come and nothing will go as planned. As I stood there, quickly texting Alexa that we needed to go, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Once again, I whipped my head around to be met with a tall, blue-eyed blonde. The same one I gave my everything to.
Almost on reflex, I shrugged her off. “Look, I’m so sorry,” Paige started. I rolled my eyes in response and continued walking in some random direction. “Please, hear me out,” pleaded the blonde as she grabbed my arm, pulling me towards her. I almost fell for it again. Her gaze made me feel like I was the only thing on her mind. Like the most important person in her world. I force myself to look away and pull back from her. “I’m not tryna hear shit of what you got to say right now, Paige.” The blonde groaned softly before stepping closer, “Just listen to me, please.”
“Nah, not today,” I mutter, forcing myself to look into her eyes again. She looked hurt, and I couldn’t help but want to take back what I said. Maybe even forget everything she did to me because the Paige I knew before would never hurt me like that. I almost opened my mouth to speak again before a taller girl pulled me away.
I guessed Alexa had finally found me, and she wasted no time dragging me away from the blonde. I wondered if maybe she’d been there longer than I thought and heard Paige’s pleas. Either way, I thanked her for getting me out of that situation. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to run into the blonde again. I knew that wouldn’t be the case though.
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alastorsfuckassbob · 8 months
Text
Killing Me Softly- 4
AlastorxFem!Reader part 4
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A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI
Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.
⚠️Warnings:⚠️
-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)
-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)
-Alcohol use AND abuse
-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~
-A LOT of cursing 🤠
 You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again. 
You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.
After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment. 
 You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. 
Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die.  It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.
 Unlike Alastor,  Val owned you. 
Unlike Alastor, he was there 
Unlike Alastor, 
you could actually feel his lips on your skin.
He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart. 
Val  insisted he “loved” you in his own way.  From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.      
You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.
 Valentino did. 
His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.
 His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation. 
“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”
It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.
  Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror.  Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door. 
As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.
 The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below.  Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall.  It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama. 
“Amorcito”
Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.
“Right, I forgot.”  He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you. 
“Do you need something Val” you ask.  It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.  
“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?” 
You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment. 
“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?” 
You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.
“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder. 
"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. 
"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one. 
To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.” 
You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?” 
With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from?  You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.
“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal.  “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”. 
Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases. 
“In my opinion we shred it”  His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.
Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it. 
“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask. 
“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext. 
“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.
“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin. 
“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito” 
He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.
You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought. 
A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony. 
"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath.  He was supposed to be dead.
Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom. 
The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor. 
He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind. 
With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you.  “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.  
 Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles;  he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it. 
“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends 
“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider. 
“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.
“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already"  Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.
“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin. 
He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive. 
"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him. 
"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is  no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story"  A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.
" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work. 
Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp"  Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him. 
"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory. 
"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise. 
Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted.  Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated.  He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different. 
Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more. 
 Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand. 
“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head”  He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system. 
“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass. 
 You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back. 
 His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety.  His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.
“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear. 
He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds  in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 
“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat. 
Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.
“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass. 
You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.
“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.
“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams. 
The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance. 
A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.
“I heard he sang a good song
I heard he had a style”
This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.
“And so I came to see him
To listen for a while”
You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head.  You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette. 
Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.
On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him.  It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later.  His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff. 
“And there he was this young boy
A stranger to my eyes”
 You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body. 
 Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this  didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through. 
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better. 
"Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones  He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair  to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.
"I felt all flushed with fever
Embarrassed by the crowd"
Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your  Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”.  Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together. 
"I felt he found my letters
And read each one out loud"
Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now? 
You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?
He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to. 
"I prayed that he would finish
But he just kept right on"
You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words"
You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.
 1930 New Orleans: Your apartment 
The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.
You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that. 
He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.
You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.
 If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date. 
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.
He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.
  His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.
He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.
Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe. 
 Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.
His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.
“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled  state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand. 
You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?
“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.
“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.
“What happened Al?”  You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.
“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.
"Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you. 
“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged. 
“I  had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person. 
“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al”  Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.
“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.
“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.
“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.
“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.
"He sang as if he knew me
In all my dark despair"
1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later
Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances. 
You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.  
With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind.  You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this
“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.
“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.
"And then he looked right through me
As if I wasn't there"
“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.
"And he just kept on singing
Singing clear and strong"
"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.
"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.
"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.
“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.
“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear” 
Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words"
You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense.  He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status. 
"Telling my whole life with his words"
No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of  love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.
"Killing me softly with his song"
He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that. 
The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.
“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there
As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face. 
“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.
“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves. 
“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?
“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment" 
“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath. 
“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.
You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.
“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further. 
“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.
“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.
“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.”  Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.
“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.
“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.
“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky. 
“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.
“Did he live a good life?”  He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.
“ Yes..he did" you finally respond. 
Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow. 
"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.
He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you. 
“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.
“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.
“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.”  The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind. 
“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.
“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.
“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.
“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do."  He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?
“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.
“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.
“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.
"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.
“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.” 
You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.
“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror. 
“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.” 
The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said. 
 In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one. 
He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he?  He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you. 
As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made. 
 “Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.
 His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams. 
 His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.
“Who did this to you” 
“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold. 
“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away. 
“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink. 
“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“
“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away. 
“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.
“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair. 
To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.
Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask. 
A/N:
Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!
Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!
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bettyfrommars · 1 year
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nightmare!eddie x reader
a Nightmare Factory blurb
I had several smut blurb requests to do with Eddie working his magic to give us a wet dream, including one from the lovely @jo-harrington that I will probably do something with separately, and it's literally all I could think about today, so I spit this out.
18+ONLY, somnophilia, smut, unprotected sex, squirting, reader receiving oral, pet names. Okay so, this is somnophilia because reader is actually asleep, but it's also...a dream. This is a consensual relationship, and they've been together for a while at this point (for those following the story, this is a time jump). It's a wet dream, but there is also evidence that they really had intercourse. wc: 1.3k
masterlist
authors note: I've decided we are going to jump around a bit in theis series because the non-linear way is more fun, I think. I still have a Headless Horseman Eddie coming soon, but this one felt very important xoxoxox
-------
Eddie got to work early that day and threw a sheepish grin down the hall at Kevin before plopping down in his chair for the group safety meeting to do with falling from extreme heights in dreams.  
He hadn’t been able to see you in weeks and—my god—he missed you so much it made his heart hurt.  
You’d been keeping your nightmare boyfriend a secret from your family and friends, but it was hard not to mention Eddie when you’d made sure his face was a fixture in your life.  It started out as a few sketches when you first woke up, trying to keep his image fresh, but then it progressed to paintings and even a few sculptures.  You had a whole journal full of notes and different ways Eddie had appeared to you, dating back to before you ever knew who or what he was.  
“Last night, he came to me as ghostly whispers that swam in my head, and sang to me a haunting melody.”
You weren’t afraid of anything anymore, especially not your nightmares.  Being chased by a masked killer? It was just Eddie, strolling by to say hello.  A glimpse of a shadow monster behind you when you stood at the bathroom mirror? It’s just Eddie, coming around on his way to another job.  A clawed hand grabs your ankle from under the bed? Of course, it’s Eddie—-he wants to tell you a story about something that happened at work before he forgets.
Two months ago, things had become more intimate between the two of you.  There had been some yearning kisses before that, a bit of hand holding, but it was always a gamble because he said he didn’t want to mess up and get “taken off your route” completely, as if he were delivering newspapers or soliciting magazine subscriptions.
That afternoon, you took a nap, and woke up in the throws of a wet dream so fierce, you were barely able to touch yourself before you were cumming so hard it made you shake.  When the wave subsided, you rolled over and looked at the ceiling with a smile spreading across your face: “Eddieee, was that you?”
You took that as a sign that he would return that night, and so you slept naked, ready to tempt him.  The anticipation made it hard for you to drift off to sleep at first, but it wasn’t long before you felt his calloused hands moving up your thighs.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, waiting for you to acknowledge him.  “Did you miss me?”
You moaned, still half asleep, but cognizant of his presence in your dream.  
Your lower back bucked off the bed when his tongue sank between your legs, making your cunt throb.
“Damn, I love how wet you get for me,” he kissed your inner thigh and ran his nose along your slit, darting his tongue into your aching hole. His tongue was…longer than you remembered, and you could feel it fill you up and twist inside of you like a big snake on the run.
You whimpered and twitched, making him smile against your engorged pussy as it dripped for him and only him.
“You came so hard for me earlier today,” his whispers were far away but also right at your ear.  One mouth sucked at your nipples and licked them while the other latched onto your core—as if there were two of him.  “I need to taste it this time.”
Under your closed lids, your eyes moved from side to side and your jaw went slack as a long groan escaped.
You were close, and Eddie knew it.
He could feel your arousal bloom in his mouth, and he rutted it in the air of the celestial sphere the two of you were existing in.  
Your whole body stiffened as you came, gasping, hips bucking up to meet his mouth, to let him suck every last drop from you.
“God, I’m so crazy about you,” he mumbled against your slit as he lapped you up, licking all the way back and teasing there a little bit. 
You could feel your eyes fluttering open and you worried that you were waking up, “no no no no…” you repeated, becoming aware of the infinite blackness around you.
You saw Eddie’s head pop up from between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Eddie,” you breathed, relieved. You wanted to put your arms around him, to spread your legs wider so that he could be inside of you, but your limbs had minimal strength. “Where are we this time?”
It looked like you were floating in a dark night sky surrounded by a sea of bright, blinking stars. It felt like you were on your bed back in your room, but there was not a trace of anything familiar.  
With a grin still wet from your gift, he crawled up on top of you to plant a few sweet kisses on your face.  “We’re in the same astral plane with the rest of the soul suckers and the sex demons.  I’m doing my best to lay low, so the head Incubus doesn’t know I’m here.”  
Talking to your boyfriend and kissing him was great but you were suddenly hit with another blast of horniness so strong it made you clench.
“I need you, Eddie,” you whined against his mouth, finally able to move your hands up to undo his belt.  “Inside of me this time.”
His clothes were off in a split second, as if he’d never been wearing any to begin with. Your hole gripped at nothing when the tip of his hard length rubbed against it.  
“That’s it —fuck—just like that,” he held your hips up and sank in deep as your eyes fell closed again.  You drifted in and out of the astral plane as he made you his with long, slow strokes first, hitting that perfect spot inside each time.
You chanted his name as he worked his fingers in the right spot, just like you'd taught him to the last time you were together.  "You're doing so good, baby," you hushed. At one point, you felt like you were being lifted off the bed—becoming weightless—while he kept a steady pace.  
He hesitated abruptly, pausing there, and you managed to open your heavy eyelids to look at him. 
His expression was a serious one. “I’m about to cum, baby, but I wanted to tell you that I think I…I think I…”
But he couldn’t finish the sentence and your head rolled back as he continued, cursing at how good it felt.  
Your second orgasm hit with a sense of release you’d never felt before, and you cried out, trembling, as sunburst exploded at your core and a velvet whip cracked.
“You’re cumming…all over me…oh my god,” and the sight of your release spraying onto his cock made Eddie pour himself into you on the spot, stuttering as your walls milked him, each of you babbling incoherent words of worship to the other.
In the aftermath, he took you in his arms from behind to spoon you close.  He could feel your breathing change, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you left dreamland through the magical door.  
“I think…” he started again, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear.  “I think I’m in love with you.”
—---
You took your time waking up, guiding yourself through another orgasm as the remnants of the dream lingered.  As always, you tried to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as possible, gasping his name as you came again, and your head lolled from side to side on the pillow.  
Once you were fully awake, the all too familiar sadness set in; the realization that he wasn’t really there, with you, like you wanted him to be.  
Your spirits soon lifted when you felt his seed drip down your leg on your way to the bathroom, elated at the realization that you had successfully kept a piece of him with you. 
One day, you’d figure out a way to keep all of him.
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One Piece characters as S/Os on your birthday
Yo ho it’s my birthday so here’s some completely self indulgent head canons for some of my faves. (Fem reader implied) (unedited because I've been working all day)
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Luffy (just a sweet baby even tho I don't really simp for him)
SFW
He forgot he remembered a week ago and got you a present.
Scrambled for something to give you and found the present he forgot he got you
It was perfect. Then remembered that he remembered last week and woke up today forgetting it was your birthday
So technically he didn’t forget.
Nags Sanji to make you your favorite flavor of cake (or dessert) even though he’s already started on it along with the rest of the feast.
Spends the entire day plastered to your side, doing whatever you want
When the feast comes, he shares some of his food. SOME. You can have a bit, but the bites you do have are the best ones from his plate :)
NSFW
You better believe you're getting the best oral you've ever had tonight. Man's tongue knows how to EAT.
He pulls out all your favorite positions AND kinks
His stamina takes over and leave you boneless and cumming over and over on his dick.
ALL the praises (degradation or not, depending on what you like) during it, but aftercare is so sweet.
Like bath or shower, cuddles, snacks, water. He would walk around butt naked though so you gotta remind him to put on pants.
Gives you another present, one that is meaningful and sweet. He put a lot of thought into it :) and it definitely did not make you tear up and sniffle when you hugged him.
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Zoro (I simp so hard for this man. I'm the type who thinks I can get him to shower. Fight me.)
SFW
Does he know it's your birthday? He doesn't remember right away, and it's only when someone wishes you a happy birthday at breakfast (Sanji probably) that he remembers. Give him a break he's a sleepy boi
Is sweet to you, doing small things that add up to make you feel loved by him.
He's not glued to your side. He gives you your space and time with the rest of the crew, but he does train on the deck so he can be near you.
He already knows the cook is making your favorite foods, so he's not worried about that.
He watches you closely, trying to count the number of times he sees you smile today to make sure its enough. He loses count when he gets focused on his training.
You might be worn out by Luffy's endless energy that is focused on celebrating your birthday, so he'll basically kidnap you to go take a nap so you can have a break.
Will take a shower before the feast for once.
He drinks at the feast, but not as much as he normally does. He won't get drunk because he wants to remember every moment of this night as clearly as possible.
If you don't drink, he'll try sips of your drink between his alcohol, trying to compare it.
If you do drink, he'll cut you off as soon as you start to get a little more than tipsy. He wants you to have the buzz that you like, but wants you to remember and experience the night clearly.
NSFW
This man has been fantasizing about what to do to your body all day. How can he draw the most sounds out of your pretty lips?
He says the filthiest things in your ear, nipping your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine
Foreplay is usually pretty quick with him, both of you wanting to get to the meat (lol) of the night, but not tonight.
Tonight he basically worships your body according to what you like best. degrading? "your hole is perfect for me, slut. Such a dirty little whore for me". Sweet praise? "god you're perfect you know? feel so good around my fingers. Taste better than any sake"
Don't want to do the work? Good thing he factored it into his training earlier.
if you want to have him begging for release, he'll start getting whinier and whinier as the foreplay continues. He's enjoying this as much as you are.
If you're the one who wants to be begging and screaming, prepare for the time of your life. Every kink he can fit into one night is happening. Every position that hits just right, he folds you into.
Will cum wherever you want him to.
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Law (Me? trust issues? Lol but he's smart and a nerd and has tattoos piercings and is just a badass and sdlifhosighsofj okay? He fine as HELL)
SFW:
Honestly Bepo reminds him that it's your birthday
He thought it was next week, so hadn't gotten a present for you yet
Panics but doesn't tell you
Finishes his work the fastest he's ever done it, and skipped studying for the day.
By the time he sees you, it's lunch. He feels so bad (doesn't really show it but you can tell)
You hug him and rub your cheek on his goatee for scratchies, and it makes him feel better.
Crew celebrates that night with games and food and just a party in general
Law sticks to the side nursing his drink, not one for joining in on parties.
You jokingly ask him to dance with you, but he agrees.
You have to end up leading because he's about as elegant as Corazon when it comes to dancing. He picks it up quickly though.
If you're not a dancer, you play card or board games with him. You can't tell if you're lucky or if he's letting you win.
Either way, he eventually drags you to his office and admits he doesn't have a physical present for you. But if you want a piercing or tattoo, he can do that for you.
You're stoked. The two of you discuss where, (design it if it's a tattoo), and set aside time for tomorrow. Both of you are too tired tonight.
If you're not into body mods of any sort, I feel like he can draw decently well, so he would admit that he doesn't have a present for you because he thought your birthday was next week, but he'll ask you what you want him to draw.
NSFW:
All I gotta say is that this man knows his anatomy, and knows your body probably better than his own.
He studies and memorizes your reactions in an instant.
Whether it be giving you head, or feeling you around his cock, he hits that one spot over and over.
His aim is incredible, and knows that a steady pace can make you cum much faster than a varied one (you lost track of how many times you came, twitching with oversensitivity)
The words that fall from his mouth are filthy but you love it
He might actually focus more on praising you and making you feel loved while absolutely ruining you with orgasms because he feels bad he forgot your birthday
I think he can go like three rounds max in a night, so he'll basically edge himself until you're begging or demanding for him to cum.
He will bring out your kinks to make up for forgetting your birthday, but the aftercare is so sweet.
He'll be so sweet and gentle with you during the aftercare and whatever you need or want.
The two of you fall asleep still naked, and he holds you in his arms as he kisses you on the head, whispering "Happy birthday, my love"
870 notes · View notes
hayakawalove · 4 months
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Test of Love (Chapter Six)
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Chapter Six
All Chapters
Summary: You hang out with a friend you haven't seen in awhile. Later, you pay a visit to the boys.
A/N: How many times can we cuck Gojo. Comments always appreciated!
CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Reader to Man), Dirty Talk, Creampie, Humiliation, Alcohol, AFAB Reader, Female Reader W/C: 8,018
Credit to Benkeibear for the banner
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You rest in your seat, your eyes staring into the ceiling. The classroom was empty, your last student having just gone home. You were so sore. Earlier in the day, you jumped in on a mission as it seemed your student needed help. Using your curse technique for a long time drained you. The muscles in your body felt like cement as your head pounded. On the best of days, your technique was almost limitless, but on the worst of days, you could only use it for ten minutes before feeling faint. You were able to use Plasma manipulation, a subset of blood manipulation. You weren't a part of the Kamo family, which made your technique all the more interesting. The three families were intrigued by you when you were a student, wanting to understand how you were able to use Plasma manipulation. Eventually they gave up when there didn’t seem to be a deeper meaning. You just could. 
You think you could fall asleep in your chair if you were given the chance. You weren't even supposed to be working today. It was a Saturday, but Inumaki had texted you for help and you couldn’t just say no. The two of you were a wreck after. By the time you finished, you were limping out while blood drippled past his lips. 
At least you knew for certain you wouldn't be working tomorrow. There were no missions assigned out on Sundays, giving you the chance to finally use the rest of the day today and all day tomorrow to recuperate. 
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel yourself slip, the temptation of sleep crawling up your spine. No one else was on campus, it wouldn't be that big of a deal to take a nap. There's no harm in resting your eyes for ten minutes before you head home, right? 
Your head clears as you slip between the state of being awake and being asleep. 
Your phone rings loudly, causing your eyes to fly open. 
Fuck. 
You fumble until your fingers wrap around your phone, pulling it up to see who’s calling. Chisaki. She was one of the friends you made when you took a couple years break from Jujutsu. She wasn’t a sorcerer, which made your relationship difficult at times. At the same time, you were able to act like a normal person around her. You win some, you lose some. 
“Hello?” You answer, dragging your hand across your eye. 
“You sleeping?” She must pick up on the heaviness in your voice. 
“No, what’s up?” You put her on speaker as you lean against your desk, resting your cheek sideways. 
Maybe you’d pass out like this. 
“Good. We’re going out tonight. I haven’t seen you in forever.” 
You almost groan but you’re able to stop yourself. You dreaded the idea of going out. All you wanted to do was get under your blankets and sleep for the next ten days. But, Chisaki never was one to take no for an answer. 
“Huh?” 
“I want to see you for drinks!” 
“But-“ 
“No! I am getting ready now and I will be by your place to pick you up in two hours.” 
You feel your shoulders crumple a bit at the order. It’s not that you didn’t want to see her. You were just so, so exhausted. You mumble a farewell before hanging up, soaking in the last few moments of silence before you have to make your way home. 
Once at home, you stand in front of your closet for way too long before deciding on what to wear. You had a black piece on the far side, only having worn it a couple times whenever you had a night out with Chisaki. It was a bit short for your taste, but you figured if you were going on a girls night you may as well go all in. Makeup felt like too much of a drag, so you just do the bare minimum, while leaving your hair down. The dress fits like a glove, caressing your curves in a way that almost makes you flustered. You briefly think about taking a picture to send to the boys, but ultimately decide against it. This was a girls night, you were going to devote zero time to them. 
Chisaki is already at the restaurant by the time you get there. You hadn’t eaten so you decided to go out for dinner, going out of your way to choose a place that had cheap and tasty drinks. She looks hot as ever as she waits in your booth, bold makeup painting her face while she wears a dress that was even tighter than yours. 
She calls your name, excitedly waving from her seat causing a few patrons to stare. It made you laugh, she did not care about drawing attention at all. 
“Looking good!” Chisaki comments, squeezing you in a hug before sitting across from you. 
Her hair gleams under the light and you find yourself feeling a bit jealous. She was always stunning. 
“So are you. Are we going out to dance after this?” You ask, sipping the water that was waiting for you. 
“Not unless you want to. Figured I may as well count my blessings that you came out at all. I haven’t seen you in months!” 
A pang of guilt shoots through your veins and you try not to wince. You honestly had no excuse for not hanging out. You were busy, sure, but you could have squeezed her in somewhere. Some kind of friend you were. 
“So tell me what’s been up with you lately. Spare no details.” She stares at you, sipping her cocktail. 
That was just like her. She seemed unbothered at your lack of contact, and you find yourself wordlessly thanking her. She gave you too many chances. She was a great friend. 
“Just work. I have some interesting students this year so they’re keeping me busy.” 
“I bet huh? Private school right? Are they rich and snobbish?” 
She didn’t know you were a Jujutsu sorcerer, so you told her you worked for a private school. You think back to your students and laugh to yourself. The only one there who could be considered rich and snobbish was Satoru. 
“Not this year, thank god.” 
A waiter comes back and you order a cocktail, and the two of you order your food. You were feeling like beef tonight, so that's what you get. 
The two of you make idle chatter as you sip and eat, the restaurant slowly filling up with other patrons. Even for a Saturday night it was busy, you were glad Chisaki snagged a seat for you. 
She worked at a hair salon, so it was always interesting to hear about the customers that came through there. You briefly imagine Suguru going and you shake your head with a chuckle. There was no way he let just anyone touch his hair. 
“So, any guys lately?” Chisaki asks, her words slurring together. 
She arrived a little earlier than you so she was definitely drunk, but you were starting to feel it as well. You sip from your drink and giggle. 
“Yeah, two of em.” 
“TWO?” Her volume causes the group next to you to turn their heads. 
“Yeah!” 
“What’re they like? Got any pictures?” 
She definitely was going to want to see them. 
“They’re opposites but also… Sort of really similar.” You say as you pull out your phone. 
You didn’t have any pictures with Suguru, but you had a multitude with Satoru. He was always the one taking them. ‘For the memories’ he’d say. You scroll through your photos until you find a picture with him. It was one he took when you were on an outing with the students, both of your classes together for once. He said the outing was to scout for curses, but in reality he just wanted to try out the new ice cream shop. He didn’t fool anyone. 
“One is really quiet and kind, the other one is… well” you think about how to describe Satoru. 
“Noisy and bitchy?” She finishes. 
You giggle and shake your head. 
“No he’s… he’s kinda like you actually.” 
“Huh? Should I be offended?” She asks with a laugh. 
You chuckle and finish your drink. The tips of your fingers were beginning to tingle as your eyelids started to droop. Okay, you were definitely starting to feel it. 
You turn the phone to her and she stares at Satoru, her eyes popping from her head. Satoru was definitely her type. You couldn’t blame her, he was your type too. 
“What a stud. You bagged them both?” 
You think for a moment. You were with both of them, but you weren't with them yet. It was casual and fun, but you weren't official. 
“Yeah, but it’s not anything serious yet.” 
“I see, I see. What’re they like in bed?” She asks. 
You’re drinking from your next glass as she asks and you choke on the liquid. Her eyebrows are raised as she stares at you, expecting a full breakdown of their sexual prowess. 
“We haven’t- Well… We’ve- I've only slept with one.” 
Memories from the previous night flash through your brain. The way he looked, smelled, tasted. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long or else you might get too worked up. 
“How was that?” 
You try to decide on how to put the night into words. Incredible, fantastic, life changing. You didn’t want to reduce Suguru to a body, but his dick game was unmatched. 
“Fucking unreal.” You say. 
Chisaki laughs and shoves your shoulder across the table. This was nice. You were having fun, talking about men and work like a normal person. You always had fun with her. 
“Lucky!” 
Your head swirls as the alcohol fills your system. You were feeling really fucking good. Your skin was tingly and your headache was gone, memories from the earlier fight already slipping from your brain. 
“Why haven’t you fucked the other one yet?” 
You stare at the table in front of you, trying to focus but you’re seeing double. Why hadn’t you fucked Satoru yet? You couldn’t come up with a reason. He was busy, sure, but so were you. He had been pining after you for years. If he really wanted to fuck, you definitely would’ve by now, right? 
“I don’t know.” 
“Come on! There must be a reason. Why don’t you make the first move?” 
“Satoru’s just always busy.” 
“That’s an excuse if I’ve ever heard one!” 
The more Chisaki talks, the angrier you get. She was right. There was no reason you and Satoru couldn’t have fucked by now. He’s just been teasing you and leaving you dry. 
“Chi!” 
“All I’m saying is maybe you have to tell him how you really feel. The guy probably doesn’t know you want his dick.” 
He definitely knew. He practically held it over your head every chance he got. The man was the walking definition of sex, and you didn’t know if it pissed you off or made you horny. 
You check the time on your phone. 11 pm. The guys would probably be up, right? Maybe you should go over and talk to him. 
“Yeah. I agree.” You murmur and dig in your purse for your card. 
“You heading out?” She asks. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna- gonna go talk to him I think.” 
Your legs wobble as you stand to your feet. Once you pay, you stumble outside. The streets are much more busier than they were several hours ago when you first arrived. There were loud voices coming from all directions, only disorienting you further. You reach an arm up to hail a taxi. While you’re waiting you sway back and forth, letting the Saturday night ambiance whisk you. You feel a pinch on the side of your foot so you lean down and yank your shoes off your feet. 
A taxi comes up fairly quickly, and you slide inside and give the address to the driver. Your head is spinning as you drive there, words filling your brain. What were you going to say to him? Maybe it would be better if you wing it. 
The taxi comes to a halt in front of the expensive apartment building. You dig around your purse until you find cash at the bottom, which you grab to pass to the driver. The cold pavement bites into your feet as you stammer to the front doors. 
Because it was so late, the front desk was empty. There wasn’t anyone around which you were grateful for. 
All you can focus on are your feet in front of you as you make your way to his place. The elevator makes you unsteady, you have to lean onto the side to not fall over. Maybe you had a little too much to drink. It didn’t bother you though, if anything it made you feel even more fired up. What was Satoru’s problem? Did he not want to fuck you? 
The elevator stops and you nearly fall over, but you’re able to steady yourself. You’re moving purely on memory as you take yourself to the boys apartment. 
You knock on the front door, swaying back and forth. 
The door opens and you look up. 
“What’re you doing here?”
Suguru says your name, eyes filled with concern as he watches you. 
He looked really good. 
What were you here for again? 
“S-Satoru.” You murmur, your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. 
“Are you drunk?” Suguru asks, raising his hand to palm your cheek. 
“Satoru.” You repeat, smooshing your cheek further into his hand. 
He was so warm. You could probably fall asleep like this if he’d let you. 
Suguru looks over his shoulder then faces you again, sliding the door open more to let you in. You walk forward, your eyes following his as Suguru makes his way to the kitchen. He’s standing in front of the sink, sleeves pushed up as he washes dishes. 
Satoru is sitting at the bar, facing Suguru. He turns to look at you, a confused expression on his face. Satoru says your name, and you feel the anger start to seep up again. 
Right. 
You were here to fight with him. 
You slide on your feet until you’re in front of him, and he’s looking you up and down. 
“Are you drunk?” Satoru asks, squinting at you. 
“What’s wrong with you?” You respond, pointing a finger at his chest. 
Suguru is in the kitchen, eyes flicking back and forth between you two. His fingers are soapy as he washes the dishes, face neutral. 
“Huh?” Satoru says, almost offended. 
“I said what’s wrong with you?” You point into him harder. 
“I heard you. What’re you talking about?” 
“Do you not want to have sex with me?” Your voice is a bit louder than you mean for it to be. 
The room goes silent, Suguru’s hands pausing as he stares at the scene in front of him. He knows he shouldn’t get involved. 
“What?” Satoru’s expression shows that he thinks you’re ridiculous. 
That only makes you angrier. 
“You must not want to have sex with me, is that right? You keep teasing me, making me all ready only to leave!” Your chest is full of emotions, your face set in conviction. 
“That’s not- I’m busy.” 
“Sure, sure. Maybe you’re just worried you're not gonna be as good as Suguru.” 
Suguru’s eyes widen and he stares at his hands, instantly going back to work. 
Not getting involved. He is not getting involved. 
“You and Suguru had sex?” Satoru asks, and you think you pick up on something similar to hurt in his voice. 
You don't care. All you can think about are the emotions simmering in your body. 
“I was going to tell you today.” Suguru says. 
Suguru shuts off the water after washing his hands, turning around to dry them. He’s digging in the cupboard, but your eyes are boring into Satoru’s, a silent battle going on between the two of you. 
You hiccup and the motion almost causes you to fall over, so you fly a hand out to grip onto the counter. 
“You’ve been flirting with me for forever! Do you not want to?” Your voice breaks at the end as you feel your heart break. 
“You know I want to.” Satoru’s voice is split between pleading and disbelief. 
Suguru comes up behind you with a glass of water. He nudges it toward you, but you push his hand away, only caring about the fight. 
“Drink.” Suguru softy says. 
“No!” You squirm away from him.
Suguru holds the back of your head and lifts the cup to your mouth. You try to fight back but once the liquid touches your lips you take several big gulps. 
Satoru’s eyes are staring into you the whole time, filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. Suguru steps back once you finish the glass and goes towards the kitchen, leaning back. 
“If you don't want to then just tell me.” You try to seem strong. 
What if he really didn’t want to? You wanted him to want to. 
Satoru sighs and gets to his feet, now towering over you. You refuse to back down, instead looking up towards him. He grabs your arm and bends down, his face right infront of yours. There’s rocks in your stomach and you feel like your heart has stopped beating. 
“I want to. God knows I want to.” He says. 
He stands back up and turns towards Suguru. 
“I'm gonna bring her to our bed.” 
Satoru holds your hand and drags you to his room. Is he wanting to go now? That didn’t sound too bad. You start to slip your sleeves off your shoulders, getting your dress partly off your body before he turns around. 
“What’re you doing?” He says, stopped in his room. 
It’s just the two of you now, the heat of his gaze causing your mind to reel. 
“We’re gonna-“ 
“No, we aren’t. Not right now.” Satoru replies, not even looking down at your chest. 
He goes to his dresser and pulls out a shirt, one big enough it would cover everything and then some. He throws it over his shoulder as he starts to take off your clothes, large hands grazing over your skin. 
Suguru walks in the room and watches from the door as Satoru tries to undress you. 
“What do we do?” Satoru asks, unsure how to handle a drunk person. 
“She’ll need Tylenol before she goes to sleep.” Suguru says and turns around to go back to the kitchen to retrieve the medication. 
Satoru’s able to get your clothes off and is in the process of sliding his shirt over your head. You can’t stop staring at him, drawn in by his beauty. Was he always so perfect? 
You were beginning to forget why you were even mad in the first place, head spinning as you admire him. 
“Get in.” He murmurs, watching as you slide in bed. 
You feel small under their sheets, but they’re so soft. Your eyelids feel heavy as you look up at Satoru, the lamp making his white hair appear gold. Suguru comes back with pills and sits on the edge of the bed, slipping them in your mouth.
He urges you to drink water from the glass in his hand and you’re more willing this second time around. 
Your body’s heavy as you sink into the sheets, your eyes having a hard time staying open. The men are standing above you, watching as you make yourself comfortable. You couldn’t even remember why you were here. All you could focus on was the way the pillows felt beneath your head. 
“We’ll talk more tomorrow morning.” Satoru says. 
Suguru leans down to kiss your forehead before he’s slipping out of the room. 
“What’s up with you?” Satoru says soft enough you almost miss it, eyes lingering on your face. 
He presses a kiss to your cheek before stepping away, turning off the light. 
~~~
Your body wakes up slowly, your head tossing back and forth over the soft pillow beneath you. It was hard to crack your eyes open, but you manage. 
Wait. 
Where were you? 
You knew exactly where you were, and it wasn’t in your bed. Why were you in Satoru and Suguru’s house? Your body flies up as your eyes dart across the room. The bed was empty besides you, there was no hint of either man in the room. 
When you look down you notice that you’re wearing clothes at least, thank god, but they’re not your clothes. You pull the fabric to your nose where you sniff, Satoru’s cologne filling your nostrils. 
“Why am I wearing…” you murmur to yourself. 
“Morning sunshine.” You hear Satoru’s voice. 
He waltzes in with a tray of food in his hands. Waffles, bacon, and fruit. Suguru must’ve cooked, Satoru sure as hell didn't. The sight of the food causes your stomach to rumble, loud enough you’re sure the whole house must’ve heard it. Satoru doesn’t even spare you a glance as he sets the tray down on the nightstand, sitting on the side of the bed. 
“Take those, Suguru says you'll need them.” He’s pointing to a couple of pills on the tray. Tylenol by the looks of it. 
You eye him carefully as you slip the medicine in your mouth, bringing the glass of water to your lips. You didn't realize how parched you were until the liquid passed your throat. The glass is empty by the time you’re finished. 
“Suguru said it’s important to take them. I don’t really know how to handle drunk people or hangovers, but Suguru’s had his fair share.” Satoru’s rambling and you can tell. Usually people ramble when they’re nervous, but not Satoru. When he's nervous, which happens rarely, he gets quiet. And that made you more uneasy. 
“Quite the show you put on last night.” Satoru says. 
What happened last night? 
“So, you wanna tell me what the hell that was?” Satoru crosses his leg over the other, a bloated silence falling over the room. 
Your stomach flips under his gaze. What was he feeling? You felt like you were being scolded, that’s for sure. 
“I-I’m not sure.” 
Satoru barks out a laugh that jolts you. As he laughs, your eyes trail down his figure. He’s wearing a plain black shirt with boxers, the sight of his bare legs nearly scandalous. 
“You aren't sure? Do you even remember what happened last night?” 
You weigh your options in your head. You could tell him you remember, and just wing it. Or you could admit that you totally forgot everything. Which was worse? 
Your fingers pick at the blanket as you wrack your brain for anything, only to come up empty handed. It couldn’t have been that bad, right?
“I don’t.” You settle on the truth, figuring it’s better than the alternative. 
“Well, let me clue you in.” Satoru leans forward and grabs a grape, popping it into his mouth. 
Your eyes follow him as he sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking off fruit juice from his finger. The way his tongue darts out to clean his finger causes your chest to tighten. 
“You came here after you went out drinking. I'm not sure where you were before coming here. Then you stormed in here and started yelling at me. In my own house.” Satoru turns towards you and you feel the need to back up slightly. 
“Yelled at me because we haven’t had sex yet. Apparently you’ve had sex with Suguru already though, which is news to me.” 
He isn’t mad. You know exactly what he looks like when he's mad, and this isn’t it. That doesn’t change the fact you feel like you’re being reprimanded. 
You blew up at him because you haven’t had sex yet? It did bother you, but you didn't think you were that mad. You knew it was because you kept getting interrupted. And it would happen eventually, you knew it would. 
“I don’t really care about that. I mean, I wish you would’ve told me, but it’s not a big deal. You know what is a big deal though?” Satoru leans in, his presence all consuming. 
“The fact you thought we haven’t fucked because I would be worried Suguru would be better.” He narrows his eyes at you, searching you for answers. 
You really said that? 
“Satoru, I-“ 
“I mean, I would be more offended if you took everything back. I may cry if you pretend you aren’t upset that we haven’t had sex yet” 
Satoru raises a brow as he looks at you and suddenly you feel like he's twenty feet tall. 
“You aren't going to take it back, are you?” 
“N-no.” 
Satoru carefully gets up from the bed only to get on top once more, crawling over to you. His eyes are locked on you the entire time, leaving your skin buzzing. 
“Didn't think so.” Satoru stops in front of you and lifts his hand up. 
His palm holds your cheek and you’re frozen in place, unable to do anything. Even if you could move, you aren't sure what you'd do. Satoru presses his lips against yours, and even though you were expecting it, you still inhale sharply. His lips mold to yours as easily as they always do, as if they were made for yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you taste the remnants of fruit on his lips. 
He parts his mouth and swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, smirking at the whine you let out. Your heart is racing as his tongue slides into your mouth, tangling itself with yours. It’s getting heated fast, and you remember a small little fact in the back of your head. 
“Satoru, what about Suguru?” You ask, pulling yourself away even though it feels painful. 
“I told him to leave for two hours.” 
He pushes his lips against yours again, more rough than the first time. Your fingers dig into the bed, not sure where to place them. Was this really happening? 
Satoru spreads your legs and you have no choice but to lean back, at the mercy of him as he hovers over you. It’s overwhelming in the way he’s completely covering you. Your mind reels as your mouths move in tandem. 
You were almost expecting his phone to ring, to rip him away from you. There was always something that kept you apart, like god couldn’t fathom the idea of you together. 
Satoru pulls away and grins to himself. 
“You’re kind of greedy, aren't you?” He questions. 
“Fucking Suguru then coming here to ask for more? Naughty little girl.” 
Satoru reaches up between your legs. He brushes against your thighs, before pushing your shirt up. The hair on the back of your neck stands up at the cool air that blows against your stomach. His thumb rubs your tender flesh before he kisses you again. 
You’re panting by the time he kisses you once more, positive you’re leaking between your legs. He pulls away and stares into your eyes as his hand traverses your skin.
His hands find your underwear and he slides his fingers inside, wasting no time as he traces your slit. Satoru watches your reactions as he slides a finger inside, groaning as it sinks into your pussy. 
Satoru pulls it out carefully before sliding it back in, lips parted as he watches you. You always knew he had long fingers, but knowing was much more different than feeling. It felt like he was reaching your throat.  
Satoru has a slight grin on his face as he stretches you out, and all prior guilt you may have held was gone. Of course you didn’t expect him to be really mad at you, but you didn’t think you were going to get rewarded either. He eases a second finger in, curling them up until you let out a shaky moan. It felt weird to be open like this with him, the two of you constantly teased each other. You were half expecting him to make a smart remark at your expense given how pathetic you looked, and felt. 
“How’s it feel?” His voice is low and dangerous as he hovers above you. 
“S-so good.”��
You clench the sheets beside you, looking down to watch where his hand was. You were getting so wet that your pussy made noises each time he slid his fingers in. His palm presses against your clit as he finger fucks you, causing your breathing to stutter. 
You’re trying to keep still underneath him but it's getting increasingly difficult as his hand speeds up, the heel of his hand bumping into your clit each time. His long fingers stroke your sensitive walls, and you know that you’ll never be able to repeat the sensation. You were sort of pissed at yourself for missing out on this for years. It felt like he was bringing you to the gates of heaven with his fingers. You wished you could feel this forever, the pleasure nearly overwhelming. 
Your moans increase as his lips graze against your skin. He’s close to your face, eyes flicking back and forth between yours. He must be able to feel the rhythmic clenching because he lets out a dark chuckle. The heat of his gaze makes it hard to breathe. 
You’re close. 
So close.
“That’s it baby, let it all out.” His hushed words of encouragement are all you need to send you over the edge. 
You throw your head back as you cum, you don’t think you could handle looking at him. His fingers slow as you float back down to earth, a dull tingling running over your skin. 
When your eyes flicker back to Satoru, he's looking at you with hunger. For a moment it startles you. 
He sits up and slides his hands down your sides until they settle on your underwear. They’re off in a blink of an eye, and he's spreading your legs. 
“Satoru!”
“What, you didn’t think we were done, did you?” His voice is filled with disbelief as he looks at you. 
Your teeth dig in your lip as you watch him lay on his stomach, face in front of your pussy. You’re a mess, you can tell. Cum is sliding from your core, making you wiggle your hips. 
“Don’t worry, I'll clean you up.” His breath brushes against you making you shiver. 
Satoru sticks his tongue out and drags it through you, savoring your taste. You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm so you squirm backwards to try to have a little bit of reprieve. It almost hurts how sensitive you are. Satoru holds your legs open as you whine, his mouth attached to you. 
You can hardly breathe. Satoru was always like that,  though. Making it so you didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. 
“I've been dreaming about this pussy for days, I missed the taste of you.” 
He dips his tongue inside you, dragging it back out. His grip is nearly bruising as he pushes your legs open. You can’t say anything, only whimpers fall from your mouth. His tongue nudges against your clit and it feels like a punch in the gut, you let out a broken sob. 
When Satoru pulls away there’s a string attaching his lips to your pussy, the sight pornographic. You force yourself to look away, somehow still finding it in yourself to be self conscious. 
You hear a rustling of clothes in front of you and out of the corner of your eye you see Satoru sliding his shirt off, exposing his lean abs. The sight was mouthwatering, you could feel drool begin to seep past your lips. 
Without his shirt you’re able to see the large bulge that’s poking from his groin. You think you catch a wet patch but it's hard to tell. 
You close your legs as you stare at him. 
“You’re ruthless.” You murmur. 
“And you’re a brat.” He says. 
“Am not!” 
“Are to.” 
“You just make me so-“ 
“Wanna put that mouth to the test, then?” 
Satoru looks at you with a cocky grin as he slips his thumbs beneath the band of his boxers, pulling them down. You inhale sharply as his cock springs out, standing straight. The tip is a pretty pink, precum leaking down the sides. There wasn’t a singular flaw. He’s slightly longer than Suguru, which mildly scares you, but he wasn’t as thick. Your hole clenches as he brings his hand down, stroking himself twice as he watches you. 
You move to your hands and knees and crawl towards him, tunnel vision on his cock. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing down your throat, could you? Then again, you didn’t think you'd be able to take all of Suguru either, and you were able to. 
You come to a halt once his cock is a mere two inches from your face. His precum is shining in the morning sun, a tantalizing sight. When you flick your eyes up to him, he's already looking at you. He raises a hand and pushes your hair back, gripping it. Your stomach twists as a pool of desire pours through you. You want to make him proud. 
Your tongue lolls out, and you watch him as you glide it against his tip. He releases a hiss at the feeling, his stomach flexing. You were already craving more. You swipe your tongue again, the sound of his moans going straight to your pussy. When you pop the tip into your mouth, you gently suck. You allow your eyes to close as you fall into a rhythm, your head moving as you carefully take more of him. 
He’s already halfway down your throat, and you still have inches to go. You struggle to breath as your throat spasms, the craving for oxygen desperately clawing at your insides. When you hear him moan once more, you think that you might not need to breathe again, as long as you get to hear him keep making those noises. 
Your skin breaks out in goosebumps. You force yourself to take more until he's hitting the back of your throat. Gags fill the room as you start to choke on his cock. 
“Fuck, that’s it.” Satoru moans. 
He keeps his hips still as you gag on him, slowly bringing your head back. You slide your tongue along his sensitive veins, swallowing as he continues to leak down your throat. His groans make butterflies release in your stomach. 
When you open your eyes again, the sight above you whisks you off your feet. Satoru’s lips are parted, a light pink dusting across his cheeks. 
Handsome, handsome, handsome. 
You tear your mouth off and watch as a string of saliva falls down your face. Satoru’s leaning down, grabbing your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. There’s a sense of urgency in the way he kisses you, his front teeth knocking against yours. He helps push you back until you’re laying down and he's hovering over you. When he pulls away, you're able to see him up close. Every little detail is on display in front of you. His unique blue eyes, flawless skin, and strands of white hair. 
Satoru pulls your shirt up, throwing it off to the side. It’s getting harder to breathe. It was finally happening. He pushes your legs apart and glides in between. 
Years, you had been waiting years for this. 
“Let me get a condom.” He murmurs under his breath, leaning over you to search his nightstand. 
“Wait, you have condoms?” 
“Yeah, bought them after our last night.” Satoru responds, sitting back. 
He’s holding the packet, opening it as he carefully looks at the condom. 
He didn't really have to wear one. Plus, you didn’t want him to. 
“Satoru, I’m on birth control.” 
He stops in his tracks and looks up at you. You only have a quick moment to gather yourself before he's tossing the condom aside, lowering down until his bare chest presses against yours. 
“Thank god, you're gonna let me feel you?” 
You moan quietly in confirmation. 
Satoru’s cock slides between your folds as he rocks his hips back and forth slowly. You can hear how sopping wet you are, but it only makes him glide easier. His tip bumps against your clit and you groan out, attempting to squeeze your legs together but your attempts are thwarted by Satoru’s hips. 
He pushes himself up and looks down between the two of you, using one hand to guide his cock to your core. The head presses against you and you can feel the momentary tension before he slips inside. As soon as he dips inside, your pussy is pulling him in, aching for more. 
Satoru moans as he watches himself carefully push in deeper and deeper, and you can’t take your eyes off the sight either. It's mesmerizing. He’s halfway in when you feel him bump your gspot, making your lips tremble. 
You think you stop breathing but you don’t notice, not when all of your attention is on him. His cock carves a hole into your walls, making you see white. Satoru’s moaning above you, and it only makes you clench against him. He must feel it. 
“Fuck, almost there. Think you can handle more?” 
You can tell he's snickering without glancing at him. He must be teasing you. But you aren't sure if you can. Can you take more? It feels like he's already two feet deep inside of you. 
“More.” You groan out. 
“You really are greedy.” Satoru murmurs. 
He thrusts all the way in and you think your heart stops. It takes you several seconds before the ringing in your ears calm and you're able to bring yourself back down to earth. 
He’s so fucking deep. 
Your pussy tightens around him. Your skin feels like it's buzzing with the need for more. You expect him to be grinning to himself with a quip sitting on the tip of his tongue, but when you look up, that’s not what you see at all. He’s staring down at where you’re connected, eyes unblinking as they glaze over. His tongue slowly drags over his bottom lip to wet it. Not only were you feeling ruined, but apparently so was he. 
You two hadn’t even started yet. 
“You’re so f-fucking wet,” he says, pulling his hips back a couple inches before thrusting in again. “And warm,” he goes on, his cock sliding from you. “And tight.” 
You moan beneath him and dig your nails into his arms, your head reeling from the feel of his cock. He isn’t even going fast, but you still can’t control your breathing. The schlick noises fill the room along with a mixture of your groans. Satoru’s breathing hard as he squints at where you’re connected, entranced by the way you keep sucking him in. 
“Made me wait years for this.” A forced laugh bubbles up from his mouth and you can feel he's building up speed. 
“Then you have the nerve to come to my house and act like I’m the one who’s been stopping us?” He moans once before slamming into you. 
“Give me a fucking break.” He murmurs. 
You yelp and grip onto him tighter. He’s pressing into your gspot each time he pushes himself in. Your clit is feeling neglected, twitching under the heat of his stare. 
He sets a good pace, his moans starting to join yours. They were getting you off just as much as his cock was. It was a good thing Suguru wasn’t home, or else he’d be able to hear every little noise coming from the two of you. 
“Satoru you’re so fucking big.” You groan. 
“I know, but you can take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 
He thrusts himself in, moaning once he feels you squeeze around him. He knows he might be going too fast, but he doesn’t care. He needs this. He needs you. 
You’re close to sobbing below him, feeling so good you think you may die. Your legs are twitching on either side of his hips, so you wrap them around him to steady yourself. This only achieves in pulling him in closer. 
“Shit.” He moans quietly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 
You wrap your hands around his neck to tug him down closer to you, wanting to feel him utterly and completely. His sweaty chest presses against yours, your swollen nipples dragging along his tight muscles. His mouth is directly beside your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck. 
You’re moaning loud and digging your nails in once more. Your pussy is already getting sore from the way he's pounding into you, but you couldn’t care less. 
He snakes a head between the two of your bodies and slides it to your clit. You’re shaking beneath him as he starts to rub slow methodical circles around you. 
“Is this what you needed, baby?” He asks. 
“Y-yes, fuck, yes!” 
It was too much. He was too much. 
You moan as he pushes into you, the whole time he's stroking your clit. If this is what you get when you bitch to him, maybe you should do it far more often. Your skin prickles. 
“Yeah? Just needed to get fucked good, huh?” 
You wished he would shut up. His words were bringing you closer to the edge, but you didn’t want to cum yet. You wanted more and you wanted it to last longer. 
“Satoru you're gonna make me,” you groan as his finger speeds up. 
“Cum? You gonna be a good girl for me for once and cum on my cock?” 
You aren't sure how you haven’t drawn blood yet with the way your nails are embedded in his skin. It's hard to breathe with the pressure on your chest and the pleasure buzzing through your veins. 
His cock thrusts inside you, working with the way his finger glides against you. 
You were so fucking close. 
He groans beside you as your pussy begins to rhythmically twitch against him, betraying your wants as you inch towards your orgasm. 
“Look at me.” He commands, pulling up until his face is inches in front of yours. “Want you to look at me as you cum.” 
Your eyes trail along his face, unsure of where to look. He looked good. You didn’t want to appreciate just one of his features. You wanted all of him. 
His blue eyes demand your attention so you give in to stare at them. 
He only has to swipe a couple more times before you cum, your mouth hanging open as you clench around his cock. You’re so tight he nearly has a hard time fucking you through it, your pussy desperately clinging to him. He’s almost as loud as you as you cum, trying to stave off his own orgasm until you finish first. 
Your vision clears up but you're immediately thrust back into the throws of passion. He’s not done yet. The whimpers falling from his lips threaten to turn you on again. 
“Where do you want me to,” his voice is airy as he inches closer. 
“Inside!” 
“Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside and fill up t-this pussy?” He’s delirious you think, but you aren’t faring much better. 
“Yes, yes,” you moan. “Please, please.” 
His hip thrusts become irregular until he lets out one last loud groan, shooting cum inside you. It's warm and sticky as it fills you up, threatening to leak from the sides of your pussy if he wasn’t plugging you up. 
He pushes into you a couple more times before sitting up, the two of you watching as his cock slides from you. His cum drips from your pussy, the heat of it dragging on your skin. 
When you look up you find that he's already staring at you. You think he may want to go again. 
“You doing okay?” He questions. 
That wasn’t what you were expecting. 
“Yeah…” You’re better than okay. You feel weightless. 
You finally fucked the two of them. Even though you shouldn’t have come over and yelled at Satoru, you were slightly thanking yourself. 
Satoru grabs a towel to slide between you, cleaning up his cum. You wince at the sensation, which he chuckles at before he tosses the soiled fabric away. 
You sit up and immediately feel the way your pussy begins to ache. You hadn’t gotten used to the sizes of them yet. Your throat is parched as you watch Satoru lay down beside you, his skin glistening in the morning light. 
“I'm gonna get water.” You murmur. 
“Okay. I’ll be here. Promise.” He kisses the side of your mouth. 
Your lips threaten to smile, so you get up and turn around before he can see it. You throw on his discarded shirt before opening the bedroom door, making your way out. 
“Oh hey. Done already?” 
Your feet stop instantly. You turn to the side and find Suguru sitting next to the bedroom door, flicking through a book. 
He was here? 
“I-I thought. Satoru said-“ you stutter as Suguru looks up, his feline eyes making your heart flutter. “Satoru said you wouldn't be home for two hours.” 
“Satoru told me to leave for one hour.” He murmurs. 
What a little shit. 
Suguru’s eyes slide from your face down your figure. He appreciates the way his boyfriends shirt clings to your body, your bare legs out in the open for him. 
“What’s taking so long-“ Satoru’s voice surrounds you. “Oh hey Suguru, didn’t know you’d be back so soon.” Satoru nearly sounds giddy. 
Satoru’s wearing his boxers once more but he skipped putting on a shirt. If Suguru somehow hadn’t heard the two of you, which he most certainly did, then he would have been able to tell what you had done just based on your appearances. 
How embarrassing. 
You bring your hands up to your face to hide yourself. Suguru must have heard everything, or close to everything. 
“Did you have fun?” Suguru asks. 
He doesn’t seem mad, if anything he seems smug. 
“I did. She’s amazing.” Satoru answers. 
“I know.” Suguru responds, a cocky grin spreading across his lips. 
“I'm gonna go get water…” you try to excuse yourself, embarrassment creeping up all over you. 
Your eyes fly across the room, looking for something to settle your gaze on. You see the couch which has two blankets thrown against them with two pillows on either side. Had they slept out here last night? 
“Go lay down sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” Suguru stands and walks over to you, kissing the top of your head. 
“I did all the-“ Satoru starts to say before Suguru shoots him a dirty look. 
“I'm assuming you didn’t get around to eating your breakfast?” Suguru asks, tilting your head up. 
You remember the tray of food that Satoru had brought in, you never got around to eating any of it. 
His thumb swipes the corner of your eye where your tears were starting to dry. Tears you cried because his boyfriend was fucking you. 
“No.” You say.
“I’ll make some more then.” He replies. 
Him and Satoru share a look before Suguru’s turning around to head to the kitchen. They were both stifling a grin, contentment settling over their bones at their decision to open their relationship. Satoru turns you around and brings you back to their bed, scooping you up and setting you down on the soft sheets. 
“Wait here, okay?” He says to you. 
You get comfortable under the blankets before grinning at him. 
“I'm not going anywhere after what you did to me.” 
Satoru chuckles and rolls his eyes before standing up. 
“You liked it and you know it.” 
“Never said I didn’t.” You watch as he makes his way to the bedroom door. 
He closes it softly behind him, leaving you alone to recuperate.
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kitashousewife · 1 year
Text
based on ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap. give it a listen! slight smut, 18+
-
shaky hands and heavy breaths fill hinata’s living room on a random tuesday night. his lips move with yours like he’s done it a million times, his hands slide up your hips and squeeze to pull you even closer. the room feels tense and electric, buzzing with newfound tension that bubbled to the surface only minutes earlier.
hinata pulls away first, eyes half closed and lips parted. he lets out a breathy laugh that tickles your nose.
“let’s slow down, yeah?” he whispered with labored breaths and you nod. the lustful haze fades away a few moments later, and the two of you say your goodbyes for the night.
from life-long best friends to falling headfirst across the line of something much more in a matter of hours, your mind is spinning in circles the entire commute home.
hinata got home from brazil four days ago. a joyous reunion that filled your heart like never before, reunited at last. the memories came flooding back, snippets of the two of you at the park as children to summers together in hinata’s backyard.
with the memories, came feelings.
hinata was different. he was older, stronger, a little taller, and even more handsome than before. his newfound confidence was alluring, pulling you in bit by bit each minute after his return.
and tonight, after a couple shows and lingering touches, it all snapped.
the next day you’re going back and forth, typing a message to him then deleting it right after, pulling up his contact to call him only to lock your phone and throw it on the couch. the sky is dark once again when you finally get the courage to send him a text.
hinata comes over shortly after, making himself comfortable on your couch as if he didn’t have his tongue in your mouth the night before.
“are you okay? i barely heard from you today,” hinata lies on his back and stares at you, fiddling with the pillow behind his head. the baby blue shorts against his tan skin are much more distracting than you had anticipated.
“oh! s-sorry about that, yeah it was fine,” you wave him off, voice shaking slightly but not enough for hinata to notice.
“good! i was worried when i didn’t get a text from ya,” he smiles, and despite how infectious it is you can’t get yourself to.
“did you have a good day?”
he laughs. “absolutely! hung out with mom and natsu for a bit, took a nap. my sleep schedule is still so messed up,”
you hum. hinata senses your discomfort and understands immediately. his smile turns sympathetic.
“c’mere,” he spreads his legs a little and opens his arms wide, and you hesitate. “just cuddle, i promise.”
you slide over and lay on his chest while he wraps his arms around you and strokes your back. after a few moments, the haze returns and your heart begins thudding once again.
“sho?”
he hums, and you look up at him. big mistake, because now all you’re doing is staring at his lips and you can feel yourself buzzing.
“can i kiss you?”
hinata grins, and the same lazy look in his eyes returns. he moves your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling you up a little bit before pressing his lips against yours once more.
in a matter of seconds you’re crawling into his lap, wrapping your legs as much as you can around his torso with heavy breaths and sloppier kisses than before. your fingers play with his hair while his slowly slide down to your ass, and with one pull he has you pressing into the bulge that formed in his pants.
“shoyo,” you gasp, pulling away for a moment to get a breath in before you get even dizzier than you already are.
“yes-ah-pretty?” he breathes as your lips trail underneath his jaw, placing soft kisses down his neck. he has to hold back a moan while you suck on his pulse point.
your hips rock slightly and your hands become more desperate, grabbing at his arms and cupping his jaw between kisses. your name slips from his lips, and the sound of that mixed with his cologne makes you feel like you’re floating. everything is so surreal, your best friend is underneath you on your couch and is kiss drunk from your lips and gasping out your name, and you cannot get enough.
“s-shoyo, i-“
“hey, hey look at me for a second,” he pants, cheeks pink and lips red and swollen. you look into his eyes and catch your breath, still very aware of just how hard he is directly underneath you.
“hi,” you breathe out and hinata snorts.
“hi pretty, you doin’ okay?”
“i think so,” your eyes stare at his lips again, and he taps your thigh. “what is this? what are we?”
“what do you want to be?” his head tilts and he rubs his palms up and down your legs while his heart hammers in his chest.
“i just don’t want to ruin what we have and-“
“how about we just have fun?”
“like friends with benefits?”
“i mean,” he takes a deep breath in. “if you want to, we can. but i don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with,”
you panic for a moment, not wanting to let this go but wrestling with your friendship and how things could change at the same time. you think for a second before breathing out a small “that’s fine with me,” before hinata pulls you in for another kiss.
the next few weeks are a whirlwind, the two of you seeing each other multiple times a week. you still can’t believe how only a short time ago, your best friend had gotten home and now you’re underneath him in his bed more than you had ever thought possible.
tonight was no different. you showed up at his door, a few words were exchanged, and before you know it you’re on top of his bed while he’s crawling over you. despite how familiar everything felt now, tonight felt much heavier. the hazy feeling is much thicker, swallowing the two of you up and making every touch seem much more electric than the last.
hinata sits up, pulling his shirt off and you can’t help but feel his skin, trace over the muscles he’s worked so hard for. his hand grabs your wrist and placed it over his heart, and you feel just how hard it’s beating.
“you drive me crazy,” his head dips down to your neck, reveling in the noises he pulls out of you while he licks a stripe up to your ear. “can i take this off?”
his fingers tug at the t-shirt you have on. you nod, helping him pull the fabric over your head. your chest heaves, both shirtless as you’re left in the thin bralette you had slipped on earlier. this is the furthest the two of you had gone, and you couldn’t stop now.
“i’m so fucked,” hinata mumbles as he watches your nipples pebble under the fabric with hooded eyes. you grab his hands and place them over your chest.
“i want to be more,” you whisper onto his lips and he lets out a mix between a whine and a sigh as his hands squeeze.
“god, me too. please, me too. are you sure?” he looks into your eyes and holds back a groan as he watches them glaze over.
“i’m yours, sho. if you’ll have me,”
he kissed you hard, only pulling away when he needs to breathe. one hand comes up to cup your cheek as he rests his forehead on yours.
“you’re mine, and let me show you how much i want you.”
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lux-scriptum · 2 days
Text
Elliot Vampire Au part 4
ok everyone: scavenger hunt for the itty bitty reference to elliot's og universe
Previous | next
~
In the end, Elliot did in fact take a nap. More than a nap. He showered, of course. Just to get the ick of the five in one shampoo off his poor curls. Took the time to do the basics of his skin care routine. At some point Hector ended up curled up against his back in his cat form, purring like a storm. The sun was setting by the time Owen nudged them awake. Hector stretched, using Elliot’s hip to do so, and then bounced off the bed. His tail hooked upwards as he meandered away.
“Sleep well?” Owen asked.
Elliot rubbed his face. “Yeah. Time to go?”
“Well, Hector decided to sleep instead of pack, so you have some time.” Owen settled on the bed beside him. He folded his hands on his stomach as Elliot rolled onto his side to face him. “I know you’ve met Sorin, but we really need to talk to Cyrus. As much Hector is a nerd, Cyrus is a walking encyclopedia. I’d rather you talk to him than finding a random vampire to answer your questions.”
“I didn’t go on the vamp forums,” Elliot protested.
“Yet.” Owen flicked his nose. He eyed Elliot’s outfit. “Are you going to want to change?”
“Are you implying I’m not pretty right now?”
Owen laughed. “Imp,” he said between chuckles. “No, I just know you like your outfits. We might have time to head over to your place if what you’ve left here isn’t up to par. Long as you promise not to take three hours picking.”
Elliot scrunched his face. “It wouldn’t take me three hours.” He sat up, fussing with his curls for a moment. “I don’t want to waste your time. I’ve got plenty of clothes here.”
Owen settled more comfortably against the headboard as Elliot slid off the bed. “You do,” he agreed, sounding amused. “So what are we wearing today?”
He’d known Owen long enough to know when he was being teased. He poked his head out of the closet. “Don’t be mean,” he complained. He popped back in, rifling through the options. He liked the swish of his skirt. That could stay. A little simple, but he didn’t want to dress up today. So he picked out a sapphire cropped shirt and a pair of flats and called it a day. A night? He mused.
He flounced into the bathroom and pulled out his makeup.
“Hey, before you get too into dolling up, are you hungry?”
Elliot paused. His own reflection stared back at him, and even that was enough he looked down. “Nah,” he tried for lightness. “I’m sure what I had this morning was enough. Thank you though.”
The bed creaked. He had enough time to close his eyes and take a deep breath, but Owen was there in the doorway when he looked over. “Hey. It’s okay. You can’t hurt me any more than I allow.” Owen offered a grin. “So if you’re hungry, I’m offering.”
“I’m fine,” Elliot promised. He went back to his makeup on autopilot. “Really. I’ll let you know if I’m hungry. I just want to figure this out and then go home.”
“Alright,” Owen conceded. He paused, clearly debating something. “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” Elliot repeated automatically. He grimaced at Owen when the only response he got was a raised brow. “I am! I can’t say this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened to me, but I’m okay. I might have killed someone earlier, but- that wasn’t my fault. And- I won’t let myself lose control like that again.”
“Hm.” Despite that unconvinced sound, Owen just turned to leave. Judging from the sounds that came from the living room, he was now mother-henning Hector instead. Good. Better the cat-witch than Elliot.
With Owen gone, Elliot was free to consider his options. He absently washed his hands again, taking care to clean under his nails. After some careful consideration, he put on lotion to make up for the excessive amount of hand soap he’d had to use in the last twenty-four hours. The rings he’d worn earlier were a loss for now; he didn’t have the time to scrub them to his satisfaction. Instead he decided to go back to Owen’s closet. Surely he’d left some jewelry in there.
He lucked out. There was a simple moonstone pendant on a thin silver chain he could wear. A few bracelets he fished out of a jacket pocket later and he deemed the outfit good enough. By then Owen had managed to herd Hector to the door. Hector’s duffel was slung over Owen’s shoulder.
“You coming?” Owen asked. Elliot quick-stepped across the living room, nodding hard enough his curls bounced. Owen held out Elliot’s phone. “Don’t forget this.”
Hector shifted his weight restlessly, his brown face pinched in distaste. He led the way down the stairs without explaining what was wrong. It was only at Owen’s well loved teal sedan that he said, formally, “You can sit up front if you want.”
Elliot blinked. “Oh. Um. That’s alright, Hector.”
“Thank the stars,” Hector said in a rush. He slid his lanky body in the front seat and immediately tucked one knee to his chest. Owen shot Elliot an amused glance, but just opened the backseat for him.
The ride was quiet, other than the country station (Elliot was outvoted and too indebted to bother whining like usual) and Hector’s occasional vampire facts. Or, well. His curse facts, as he was more interested in the curse aspect than the vampirisim itself. Apparently, the curse had evolved as time went on, as all curses do. Obviously.
By the time they’d gotten to Hector’s dads’ house, Elliot knew far more about the differences between spells, curses, jinxes, and hexes than he thought would ever really be useful to him. It didn’t take much (if any) encouragement to keep Hector spouting his facts. Thankfully, they did drown out the country music, and Elliot had always enjoyed listening to people talk about their passions.
“Cyrus explains it much better than I can,” Hector said, sounding self conscious for the first time. He’d rolled his window down but made no other move.
Elliot got out of the car, but leaned on the car door. The other option was facing the cottage behind him (Really? A witch and a cat shifter living in a cottage in the woods?) “I think I have a good basic understanding,” he reassured. “You explained it very well.” He tilted his head, absently tonguing his fangs again. “You gonna get out?”
“Let him have a minute.” Owen circled the car, Hector’s duffel on one shoulder. He nudged Elliot off the door and shut it for him. “Cyrus is inside.”
Even as they made their way up to the porch, a mostly white cat that Elliot recognized as Hector’s father Sorin trotted past. Sorin’s fluffy ginger tail rippled like a ribbon as the cat hopped in the open car window. Owen snorted, but the sound was more amused than anything else. He steered Elliot forward with a featherlight touch to the small of his back towards the little cottage, and the answers Elliot desperately needed.
`
As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from the Tag list: @mecharose @incandescent-creativity @fragmentedink @cwritesfiction @firesidefantasy
also, i'm officially switching to posting Wednesdays
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c-is-for-circinate · 2 years
Text
On one hand, there's definitely more of this to be written, and possibly even more of this scene.
On the other hand, posting now means it gets posted at all, and I also happen to think that the place where it ends is very, very funny.
In short: Dustin is a smart kid with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, he knows this about himself, which is also his greatest flaw. Set somewhere between Stranger Things S3 and S4.
---
Dustin shows up at Family Video on a Wednesday night. Steve never works Wednesday nights -- slow enough that Keith can spare him, late enough in the week that most girls are actually wiling to consider it a date night. He's seeing the second Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which Dustin is maybe a little annoyed about because it's only been out for a week and the Party needs Steve to get them into R-rated movies, he knows that. But Steve just said something about horror movies being essential opportunities for girls to cuddle in close so you can protect them, and completely ignored Dustin's totally reasonable comments about how Steve is the one to freak out at jumpscares most of the time when he watches horror movies with them, and went anyway.
Which is so stupid, because there's literally nothing real to protect a girl from in a horror movie. Steve has literally protected Robin from actual Soviet torture, with his actual face. Dustin saw him through that concussion! Dustin knows perfectly well that Steve probably drew the Russians' attention on purpose the whole time he and Robin were in there!
And somehow, he and Robin still aren't dating. If that isn't enough, then Dustin really doesn't see how putting an arm around a girl to save her from Freddy Krueger is going to do any better.
So Dustin bikes his way to Family Video, in the dark because it's November in Indiana, and when he gets there he folds his arms on the counter and gives Robin his brightest, most patient smile. She takes one look at him and rolls her eyes.
"He's not here right now," she informs him. "So if you want to badger him into renting you an R-rated movie, you're going to have to come back tomorrow, I'm not your babysitter and I'm not doing it."
Dustin just keeps grinning at her. Broadly.
"You know, Robin, we never talk," he says. Robin groans.
"Oh god, what now?" she asks. "And get off the counter, Keith's in the back and if he sees you he'll throw a fit."
"Keith is taking a nap back there and we both know it," Dustin scoffs. As if he doesn't know Keith's habits. "He only ever comes out of the back when Steve's working because he likes to make Steve do menial tasks while Keith hits on the hot girls that he thinks come in here because Steve's working."
"Fine, whatever, it's creepy that you know that," Robin sighs. "What do you want?"
"So I've been talking to Steve," Dustin says. "You know, our friend Steve. Pretty face, good hair, excellent reviews on the kissing front."
"Ew," says Robin. "Ew, no, you're twelve, don't talk about Steve kissing. Don't talk about Steve kissing at all!"
"Excuse me, one, I'm fourteen years old, I am in high school, where I just saw you earlier today, so it's not like you're that much older than me," Dustin says. "Two, if we don't talk about kissing Steve, how are we going to get you two over this weird little speedbump you're having where you're somehow not dating yet?"
Robin groans again. It's louder this time, and she also tips her head back to the sky while she does it. Dustin waits patiently.
"I'm not going to date Steve," she says. "Please stop bugging him about this, it's not going to happen. I don't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, can you please just let this goooooo." She groans the last word, drawing it out like Mike when his mom tries to make him clean his room.
"Not until I see you two happy," Dustin says firmly, unmoved thanks to many years of being friends with Mike. "Steve is one of my best friends, and not only are you his other best friend, we've been through the heat of battle together, which means you're my friend too. I want both of you to be happy, and clearly there's nothing you like more than spending time together--"
"Yeah, because we're friends, Dustin, that's what friends do," she says, but Dustin has proof.
"Friends don't have to get jobs working at the same retail store even after their old one burned down," he begins.
"We're good coworkers and otherwise he'd have to break in a whole new set of coworkers who haven't had to deal with Dustin Henderson already for months," she says.
"You work well together, you compliment each other, you already get along with his other friends..."
"Not sure if 'getting along' is the right phrase right now," Robin mutters. Dustin ignores her.
"He's always giving you rides places, he's literally left a date to give you rides on multiple occasions --"
"Like he doesn't do the same for you!"
"Robin," Dustin says pityingly. "Leaving a date? When it's not the end of the world?" It's so obvious how much Steve likes her. Dustin's never seen him act like this with anybody since Nancy. Not that it's exactly the same as Steve used to act with Nancy, but clearly that's just because he's had time to grow and mature, and Robin's better than Nancy for him anyway. She keeps him from stressing out too much. "Driving you to school every morning even though he couldn't even get there on time most days when he was a student himself?"
"I don't have a license!"
"You really don't have to worry about it," Dustin says. "I happen to know for a fact that Steve would date you in an instant if you said yes."
Well. A strongly-supported scientific theory, anyway, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, it should be enough to get Robin spilling whatever self-doubt she's bottling up -- she's too nerdy, Steve only dates slutty cheerleader girls, whatever -- so Dustin can explain to her all the ways she's wrong, and they'll finally be taken care of.
"And I happen to know for a fact that he wouldn't, so how about you take the word of the person he's actually not dating and drop it?" Robin demands. She sounds on the verge of actually upset with him.
"But why?" Dustin demands right back. Which is really the crux of it, isn't it? Dustin has been asking the world why at every turn for fourteen solid years, and he has never let it back down without a fight.
"Steve likes you! You're at least as pretty as all those other girls, and it can't just be that you don't think you're cool enough for him, because lest we forget, the last time he was actually in love instead of just being kind of easy for any girl to look his way twice was with Nancy Wheeler, who is by definition a nerd!" Dustin lays his most damning evidence out rapid-fire, taking down Robin's arguments even if she hasn't made them yet. "He's a hot guy! He's kind of a catch! You're a cool girl! You actually like him back! What is the problem here!"
"Not every guy likes every girl just because they're a girl!" Robin fires back at him. "Not every girl is attracted to every guy! And you know, the fact that you think that is insulting and reductive, when some guys and girls don't even like girls or guys at all, and what would Suzie think, Dustin? What would Suzie think if she heard that you think every guy should date every girl he's friends with just because he's friends with her?"
"First of all, Suzie thinks you and Steve are destined to live happily ever after once he saves you in another bold act of heroism," Dustin informs her. Obviously. "Second of all, what do you mean, some guys don't like girls and girls don't like guys?"
And then Robin gets a look on her face. Dustin might have let it go, if Robin hadn't gotten that look on her face.
It's a split second of sheer panic. Robin ducks away from him, turns back to the Family Video checkout computer like she's trying to be casual, but her hands are anxious, picking up a stack of videos just to put them down, and she's not looking at him, and Dustin saw it. Dustin saw.
"It's just a thing, that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asks. "You can't just assume you know what somebody wants, that just because two people are both attractive they're going to want each other. You don't want to date Max, right?"
"Actually, yeah, I had a crush on Max when we first met, and I reconciled myself to her choice of Lucas in favor of slightly strained friendship until I discovered the love of my life in Suzie," Dustin informed her. "Much like Steve reconciled himself to Nancy's choice of Jonathan, until he met you and suddenly started spending all of his time with you. And anyway that's not what you said, you said that some guys don't like girls at all, which sounds like you're talking about gay people, which doesn't even..." Except that Dustin's thoughts are starting to catch up with his words, and he's trailing off, because. Because holy shit.
Steve dates so many girls. So many! He's constantly hitting on them and striking out, almost like he's just going through the motions, like he's not even trying except for appearances' sake. Even when he goes on actual dates they never last more than once or twice. And he's been doing it like that since high school, exactly like that. He's blown off dates to give Robin rides places. He's blown off dates to give Dustin rides places. He once blew off a date to sit in Mike Wheeler's basement and doze off on the couch while the Party spent three hours building D&D characters for their first-ever Hellfire Club campaign.
And Nancy? Nancy Wheeler, who Steve was totally in love with, except that according to Mike they started having problems basically as soon as the very first demogorgon fight was over and didn't stop for the next full year? Nancy who left him for Jonathan, who Steve is still friends with. Steve and Jonathan are better friends now than they were before he and Nancy broke up. Or at least they were before the Byers left for California, anyway, and that's basically the same thing, Jonathan was probably Steve's best friend actually his own age before he met Robin which was really sad, actually, but--
Steve getting super close with Robin after getting dosed with Russian drugs that were meant to make them tell the truth! Robin and Steve acting like they knew a secret that they couldn't tell anybody else or else!! Robin swearing up and down to the ends of the earth that she knows Steve doesn't want to date her for a mysterious reason she can't and won't explain!!!
"What, no, who said anything about gay people?" Robin is babbling, collecting more and more videos in her hands like a nervous D&D player who thinks hoarding dice is going to save them from a red dragon, but Dustin ignores her. "I just meant that attraction is complicated, and--"
"Holy shit," Dustin breathes. "Holy shit, is Steve Harrington gay?"
Robin drops the tapes.
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Text
Silver Springs Part 4
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~9.5k
Summary: Wanda tries to leave her mob life behind to start a family with you
A/N: The crack has begun. Things start to happen. Enjoy. 
Chapter Warnings: Mentions of illness and cheating, use of medical jargon. 
Your day at work flies by which is both a blessing and a curse. You’re so busy that you barely have time to think about what happened last night. You’re not on edge until you take Boone out into the yard to exercise for a while. You go between watching him run around the fenced in yard and looking around you for someone watching you. You don’t see anyone, not that you expected to see anyone who’s stalking you. You very rarely see the people, mostly Bucky, that Wanda has following you, and today is no different. You figure that if there’s anyone on your tail other than Bucky, he’d know about it. Still, you take Boone back inside after only about 10 minutes because you get a little antsy just sitting around. That and you feel a headache coming on. You groan and roll your shoulders as you head back in. You only have about an hour until you can leave.
Wanda had been on the phone for most of the day. She was getting irritated because she was calling people in an attempt to get the impossible done. She wanted bulletproofing within the next 48 hours and unfortunately all of the money in the world couldn’t speed up this process. Unfortunately, it was an availability issue and her supplier could have it produced by the end of the week, but not installed until mid-next week.
This of course isn’t good enough, but as Wanda resorts all the way to Plan D, she realizes that she just has to cut her losses. She’s certain that she won’t get you to stay away from home for that long, but maybe you’ll agree to a little bit longer than you’d initially discussed. Hopefully you liked being around family again.
Wanda’s about to call her first supplier back to confirm that the timeline works for her when she gets a call from Bucky. She answers immediately because he only calls if it’s urgent. She tries not to panic too much as she waits for the bad news.
“Bucky, what’s happened?”
Bucky immediately realizes he should have just sent the redhead a text, but he’d been in a hurry. He was getting ready to follow you as you and Boone leave work. You had left a little earlier than expected because you had a headache and you wanted to get to the compound before it was too bad. You weren’t sure if Wanda would be waiting there for you, but all you could think about was lying down.
“Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I was just calling to let you know that we’re leaving now.”
Wanda looks at her watch before she mutters a curse under her breath. She hadn’t realized how late it was, and she still had to pack. She sighs as she does quick math and realizes that she won’t be there until later tonight. She says this to Bucky who just claims that he’s got it handled, and Wanda believes him. She just doesn’t like the idea of not being with you while all of this is going on. She figures she can finish this one last thing and then pack up and leave.
“Okay, I’ll be there hopefully in a few hours.”
By the time you and Bucky make it to the compound your headache is near excruciating. You don’t get out of the car immediately and despite Boone’s protests, you stay with your head against the wheel for a solid minute before Bucky comes up to figure out what’s going on. You groan as you turn off the car and reach for a pair of sunglasses before you open the door and let Boone out.
“You okay?”
You shake your head as you step outside and close your eyes with a sigh. Bucky’s already opened the back door to unbuckle Boone and grab his leash as you try to not vomit from the sudden wave of nausea that hits you.
“I have a killer migraine and need a nap. You didn’t tell anyone I was coming did you?”
Your question is answered when you watch him look over your shoulder. You don’t have time to brace yourself for whoever it is when you feel someone run into you and wrap you into a tight hug.
“Y/n!”
You can’t help but flinch at the volume, but you smile nevertheless as you attempt to turn around and greet your friend.
“Good to see you too, Yelena. We need to catch up after this migraine goes away.”
You watch as the blonde squints before looking between you and Bucky as she grabs your bag from you and starts to lead you inside.
“You heard her Bucky, go away.”
You can’t help but laugh as Bucky rolls his eyes and just follows behind you with Boone’s leash in hand.
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Turns out the compound hasn’t changed that much. You don’t pay much attention to anything but the length of the elevator ride up to your floor as you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Sorry you feel like shit.”
You smile before you shake your head and mutter that it’s fine. You wish you could take the time to catch up with your friend and tell her all about what happened, but you are getting closer and closer to being unable to stand.
“Thanks. I’ll come find you later when I feel less like death, okay?”
When you and Yelena arrive to your old room the blonde hands you your bag and Boone runs in as soon as you open the door.
“You better.”
She leaves and you close and lock the door behind you. It’s a habit and you don’t think twice as you hurry through the main room and over to the bedroom.  You flop down on it gracelessly. It’s been cleaned for your arrival and you bask in the smell of clean sheets as you try to think about nothing but feeling better. You sigh when you hear Boone jump up on the bed next to you and you don’t have the energy to tell him to get off. You toss and turn for a while trying to figure out what’s better for your headache. The pillow over your head blocks out the dim light coming from the window, but it makes your pulse louder, clearer and you eventually just give up and curl up into a ball under the covers.
 You fall asleep after about 20 minutes of feeling your pulse pound behind your eyes.
Wanda arrives at the compound near 7 o’clock with Steve and what she hopes is enough clothes to get you through the week. She rolls one of the suitcases, Steve has the other two, toward the elevators. She’s already texting you to figure out where you are when the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal someone on the other side.
“Welcome back, sestra.”
Wanda smiles despite her exhausting day and the stress headache brewing, and she hugs her brother tightly. They hug for a little longer than normal before Pietro backs off and shoots his sister a worried look.
“As nice as it is to have you back for a while, I wish it was for better reasons.”
Wanda nods with a sigh as she agrees with the older Maximoff’s sentiment. She had been meaning to visit at the end of the week, but the shooter had forced her hand. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s worried that she can’t keep you safe and this is the safest place she knows.
“Agreed. We’ll have to catch up once I’m settled.”
Pietro nods as he grabs his sister’s suitcase despite her protest before leading her into the elevator. She sighs with another smile as Steve follows them in before the doors shut. Wanda takes a closer look at her brother and notices that he’s dressed up a little more than she’d expect. She knows this isn’t for her and she smirks slightly.
“Important meeting today?”
Pietro looks confused for a moment before Wanda pointedly looks him up and down. Pietro tries to cover up his nerves with a cough, and he shoots Steve a glare when he notices the blonde grinning.
“Uh, actually I have a date later tonight.”
Wanda’s a little surprised and she doesn’t hide it well, but luckily her bother doesn’t take offense. She knows he’s a catch, despite his arrogance, but he’s also almost as paranoid as she is. The fact that he’s stepping out and dating is a little unexpected.
“Really? Do I know them?”
Pietro shakes his head before saying that it’s casual, and Wanda doesn’t have a chance to question this before the elevator sounds again signaling their arrival. Wanda just nods thoughtfully before she steps out onto the floor that she hasn’t seen in months. She glances back at her phone and frowns when she realizes that you haven’t responded. She decides that she’ll wait to get unpacked, and she’ll simply drop off your things before searching for you.
“Well, I hope you have fun. I look forward to hearing all about it.”
Pietro blushes again before waving his sister off and changing the subject quickly.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see. Where’s your lady? I thought she’d come visit her favorite Maximoff.”
Wanda would usually roll her eyes but she’s a little shocked to hear that you hadn’t made the rounds yet. That was typically the first thing you did when you arrived at the compound. You’d say hi to everyone and this included her brother despite his over-the-top flirting and occasional egotistical behavior.
“Let’s find out.”
Wanda opens the door to their rooms and is met by silence as she walks inside. She doesn’t have to wonder where you are for long when Boone comes barreling out of the bedroom to meet them. He is in full guard dog mode until he spots Wanda and he starts to wag his tail as he runs over to her. She pets him for a moment before she heads to the bedroom to see what you’re up to.
Pietro and Steve trail behind curiously, but they don’t want to get in the way as Wanda hurries to check on you.
“Y/n?”
She realizes that the lights are off and you must be sleeping. She’s about to leave you be when she spots you tossing and turning on top of the sheets. You’re sweating and breathing hard and it takes Wanda a moment to figure out that you’re not having a nightmare. She’s seen those before and this is different, but she doesn’t spend too much time overthinking it as she rushes over to you.
“Y/n, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Wanda quickly reaches out for you and her panic only worsens when she feels how hot your forehead is. She doesn’t notice Steve step inside when he hears how worried Wanda sounds as she finds one of your hands and squeezes.
“Detka, it’s Wanda. Can you open your eyes for me?”
You weren’t sure if Wanda was really there until you feel her grab your hand, and your eyes fly open. You’re sweating profusely and you feel like your heart is going to jump out of your chest, or just plain stop with how quickly it’s beating. You can’t find the words to communicate this so you guide Wanda with a shaky hand to your chest so she can feel for herself.
When Wanda rests her hand against you and feels how fast your heart’s racing, she turns around to find Steve. She hadn’t expected him to be in the room already, but she’s glad that he’s nearby when this happened.
“Steve! We need to get her down to medical.”
The trip downstairs was a blur and you were barely conscious by the time you arrived. Steve had carried you the entire way while Wanda followed with both Pietro and Boone in tow. Pietro was on the phone making sure the best doctors would be downstairs by the time they got there, mentioning who  was on their way. Whether she liked it or not, Wanda had become good friends with some of the doctors that worked for her. She’d had to see them more often than she’d care to admit or tell her wife, but she was eternally grateful that one of her favorites was waiting for her when she arrived.
“Dr. Palmer.”
The other redhead immediately steps forward and motions for Steve to set Y/n down in the bed that’s already surrounded by nurses.
“Wanda. Tell me what happened.”
Wanda is about to speak up and tell her all that she knew which unfortunately wasn’t much when Bucky storms into the room. He looks a little harried and Wanda has to stop herself from yelling at him to try and figure out what happened to you. Instead, she looks back to the doctor with a sigh as she looked between you and Bucky.
“I just got here to find her feverish and incoherent. I don’t know what happened to her.”
Bucky is quick to speak up as he turns to Dr. Palmer and the nurses who are getting you hooked up to various monitoring equipment. You are still unresponsive when someone puts a large needle in your arm, and unfortunately Bucky doesn’t have much to add.
“She had a headache when she left work, but she was fine otherwise. She didn’t even leave the clinic today.”
Wanda is about to ask more when she hears her name being spoken in a near whisper. She turns to see you looking at her with a pained expression. She walks past the doctor and everyone else to reach your side, and you flinch slightly as you’re poked again for blood, but you speak up before Wanda can go off on someone. She’s always at her worst when you’re concerned, and you don’t want her to snap at some poor unsuspecting soul.
“What is it, Y/n?”
You look to Bucky before meeting your wife’s worried gaze again. You hold up a hand and Wanda’s quick to grab it before lowering them both back down to your chest. She takes a moment to take in your warm skin and how just beneath it she can feel your slightly slower, but still racing heart.
“I’m okay, Wands.”
Wanda meets your earnest gaze and has several arguments on her the tip of her tongue, but you anticipate this and beat her to it. You take a deep breath before you bring your wife’s hand to your lips with a smile. You kiss it in an attempt to placate her before you whisper.
“My lunch tasted a little weird, but I was hungry, so…”
Wanda’s eyes widen at your words and she immediately scowls at the idea of someone poisoning your food. She looks to Bucky who is already nodding in understanding. He needs to run an errand.
“Find out who’s responsible for this. Take Steve with you.”
You shoot your friends an apologetic look that they miss as they near run out of the room. As the door opens Boone is racing through it in search of you. Pietro had hung back with him since he wasn’t allowed inside, but he quickly scurried after him as the shepherd charged into the room. He came in growling and several people jumped, but you just held out your free hand for him.
“Boone, settle down bud.”
Wanda turns to her brother before speaking rapid fire Sokovian with him. You miss most of it while you pet your panting and whining dog, but you notice when they’re finished as Pietro starts to leave.
“Where’s my favorite Maximoff going?”
Pietro can’t help but smile at this while your wife rolls her eyes at you. He walks back toward your bedside and smiles at you and reaches out for your other hand.
“Good to see you, kid. Sorry you feel like this. We’ll take care of whoever did it.”
You don’t miss your wife’s near-murderous look as she thinks about what she’ll do to whoever is responsible for this. You try not to think about that right now as you grab your brother-in-law’s hand with a smile. You look at him again and almost laugh at how he’s dressed up for maybe the third time since you’ve met him.
“You clean up nicely. You have a date or something?”
You and Pietro talk for a while as the doctor and nurses discuss your blood work and treatments. You don’t pay a lot of attention to it because you’re too tired to really care. That and you know that you’re safe here. Wanda wouldn’t let anyone do anything to harm you here. You look around briefly for Boone and when you don’t find him immediately you frown. Wanda seems to realize this and she just smiles before motioning to underneath your bed.
“He’s under there. Keeping watch.”
You smile at this and open your mouth to respond when a sharp pain in your head makes you cringe. You curse and close your eyes before taking a deep breath to push away the pain. You suppose you should be sleeping. Wanda seems to realize this and Pietro does too because he leaves shortly after with a hug and a promise to check on you soon.
“Have fun on your date.”
He smiles at you before he looks to Wanda and nods toward the door. She is reluctant to leave you, but she does need to talk to him before he leaves for a while. Wanda looks back to you and smiles when she sees Boone’s reappeared from under your bed.
“I’ll be right back, detka, okay?”
You nod and watch as the twins disappear through the door. You take a moment to look and see what you’re being treated with before deciding to take a nap.
“Let me handle this, Wanda. You stay with Y/n until she’s feeling better. I’ll have Bucky call Christine with whatever answers he finds, okay?”
Wanda wants to argue because she would love nothing more than to put a bullet through the head of whoever drugged you. However, her desire to make sure you’re safe and well-taken care of overrides this at the moment. She sighs in defeat before she nods in agreement. She doesn’t need to handle this personally, she just needs to make sure it’s handled, and since she’d tasked Steve and Bucky to do so she knew it would happen. She hugs her brother goodbye before returning to find you and Boone cuddling. His head is resting beside your leg and you have a hand on his head while you sleep soundly.
She just sighs as she moves one of the chairs closer to you and sits down to watch you sleep. She doesn’t know how long the staff will put up with Boone being in here, but she figures she can give him a little bit longer before she banishes him. She watches you breathe steadily as you sleep and her thoughts begin to run wild as she considers what the hell could be going on.
She knew that she shouldn’t have let you go into work today. Last night should have clued her into how much someone wanted to reach you. Not just the person stalking you at work, but someone shooting up the house to try and kill Boone. Then this? Wanda wasn’t sure why someone wanted to get rid of you so badly but it terrified her. She wasn’t one to run and hide with her tail tucked between her legs, but she needed time to make a plan. She had to figure out who was calling the shots on all of this, and that started with calling her prime suspect.
Despite having just told her brother that she would let other people handle it, she knew she had to be the one to confront this particular person. He wouldn’t respond well to someone else going on her behalf, so she promised that as soon as you were up again and stable, she’d tell you her plan and hopefully return before you miss her.
Strucker had not been expecting Wanda to change her mind and insist on meeting today. It was very late, and he didn’t really have time today, but one didn’t keep someone like Wanda Maximoff waiting without consequence. He was curious as to why she wanted to meet after insisting that he give up on any communication.
He’s sipping on a bourbon when Wanda walks into the bar. He immediately realizes that she’s tense, and she spots him quickly and heads over to his table. He’d ordered her a drink, but he’d be shocked if she actually drank it. Not only was she deeply paranoid, but it seemed like she wanted to get right down to business.
“Strucker.”
Wanda slides into the opposite side of the booth with barely a nod of acknowledgement. It took a lot for her to not come in here guns blazing so to speak, and she took a deep breath as she looked to the smiling man across from her.
“Ms. Maximoff this is quite the surprise. May I ask what changed your mind?”
Wanda takes a moment to study the older man across from her. He seems as smug as he usually does, but he also appears genuinely curious. Whether or not he knows what’s happened, or if he’s played a role in it, Wanda can’t tell. However, she knows that she can’t just sit back and be on the defensive anymore.
“I haven’t called you to talk about business. I haven’t changed my mind about that, Strucker, but I do need to discuss something with you.”
Strucker’s confusion turns to intrigue almost too quickly for Wanda to notice, but she sees it and presses on before he can speak. She glances behind Strucker to the two body guards she’s planted to keep things on the up and up.
“Someone’s been stupid enough to try and hurt my wife, twice, and I can’t help but wonder if this particular person is just a spiteful business partner who can’t take no for an answer.”
Wanda watches quite the emotional journey as she glares at the man in front of her angrily. She waits impatiently as he comes up with a response. He struggles to find the words and he eventually just shakes his head with a seemingly ingenuous expression.
“I had no idea. No-nothing to do with this I assure you, but I’ll see what I can find out.”
Wanda simply stares at him for a full minute as she tries to determine how honest he’s being. Strucker’s always been a little difficult to work with. Although he has claimed to be in agreement most times, sometimes he feigned being cooperative and tried doing things his own way. It infuriated Wanda to no end, but she wasn’t sure if he would betray her outright. She especially wasn’t sure if he had the balls to do something like this. He had to know how it would end for him.
“Now why would you do that?”
Wanda sits up and eyes the older man curiously as he answered without hesitation. He almost laughed but he held back because he could tell that the redhead wanted blood and he didn’t want to give her a reason to go after his.
“Because even though I had nothing to do with this I want to remain on your good side. You might be retired Mrs. Maximoff, but you are still a formidable adversary.”
Wanda scowls at this despite how truthful. She briefly wishes he could talk like a human being instead of some ass-backwards politician, but that’s a battle for a different day. Or if she does as she says she will, for never. She eventually caves with a sigh as she eyes Strucker suspiciously. Despite his claim, Wanda knows that he won’t be doing anything for her without a little something for himself. She’s not sure if she’s willing to give it to him.
“I already have people on it. What makes you think I need your help?”
She’s not bluffing. She has nearly a dozen people working around the clock to figure out who snuck onto her property last night, and who could have poisoned you today. So far, she’s heard nothing about either, but she was going to check in as soon as she left here. Strucker simply smiles widely at her and she has to remind herself to keep her gun holstered when he laughs harshly. Her glare goes ignored as he drains the rest of his drink before raising an eyebrow.
“Would you be here if you didn’t need my help?”
Wanda grits her teeth before sitting up so she’s closer to being on his level.
“I’m here because I was—am fairly certain you’re involved. I’m just not sure how yet. The timing is too coincidental for you not to be.”
At that Wanda stands up to leave but before she can step away from the table Strucker’s speaking again. She stops short and briefly contemplates shooting him for what he says next.
“If it’s any consolation, if I was behind this, your wife would already be dead.”
Wanda digs her nails into the palm of her hand and grits her teeth as she turns back to see Strucker looking at her with a straight face. He’s telling the truth and despite how much she wanted him to be the answer, she realizes right then that he wasn’t responsible for this. He was competent enough to get a job done the first time. This unfortunately left her back at square one.
You’re still asleep when Wanda returns. She doesn’t go to see you immediately because she has to check in with a few people first, but she makes sure to ask Bucky how you are doing as soon as she sees him. He’s going back and forth between medical and Pietro as they try to get to the bottom of things. Apparently, she wasn’t hiding her anxiety well and Bucky picks up on it immediately as they both head toward the elevator to Pietro’s office.
“Y/n’s doing, okay?”
Last report was that you were sleeping, but stable. You’re being treated for pain and your bloodwork came back consistent with heavy metal poisoning, so you were being treated with an antidote for that. Apparently, it was now just a waiting game while the toxins left your system, but this wasn’t enough for Wanda. She wanted you feeling better now, despite how irrational and unrealistic it was. She also wanted whoever was responsible to pay.
Bucky nods as he presses the button and waits for the doors to shut in front of them. The compound is bustling as usual, but he can tell that Wanda’s only got one thing, rather one person on her mind right now.
“She’s resting. The cameras in medical are working, and Boone’s still under her bed.”
Wanda can’t help but smile at this. She knew it was going to be difficult to get Boone to leave you alone. He was very overprotective when you were sick, but luckily, he was well behaved enough to just sit and keep watch. Bucky’s brought him water and food, but he mostly left it alone. He’d probably try to get him to go out on a walk later tonight if he’d tolerate it. Wanda knows that she shouldn’t let him stay in there, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind is telling her to not leave you alone. So much has happened in a short amount of time and she doesn’t want to risk anything else.
She glanced up to see what floor they were on and she started to tap her foot impatiently. She wanted to get this over with so she could wait for you to wake up, but she could only do so much to hurry things along. She tries to remind herself that you’re safe here, and that you have people looking after you. Even if they can’t be her at the moment.
“Nat said that she and Yelena were going to visit her too. I think they should be back soon.”
Wanda almost forgot that she’d asked her friends to try and track down the man who had snuck onto her property last night. She looks to Bucky again with a frown as she recalls what he’d told her. Upon visiting the restaurant that you got lunch from today, he found that it was closed early for an undisclosed reason. He was working on figuring out who works there and he plans on visiting them first thing tomorrow to question them. Wanda had wanted to do this herself, but the amount of terror she’d inflict upon someone who may not have known what they were doing would be too much. Not to mention she didn’t want to draw that much attention to herself.
“Did they mention finding anything out?”
“It was fucking Rumlow!”
Wanda frowns as she looks back to the image on the television in front of her. She’s with Yelena, Nat, Pietro, Steve and Bucky in the older Maximoff’s office reviewing the security footage from last night yet again. Yelena swears that she can recognize the man, but he’s practically covered from head to toe. Wanda opens her mouth to say this, but Yelena is determined.
“I’m positive. I’ve seen the fucker run away from me enough times.”
Wanda looks around and sees that Steve and Bucky don’t look convinced. Pietro looks unsure and Nat just shrugs at her. She sighs before shaking her head and asking a question that no one really has the answer to.
“If it is Rumlow, why did he miss? “
It’s no secret to anyone here that the brunette was good at what he did, and the likelihood of him missing a shot, even at night with the weather was highly unlikely. He was experienced and should have killed Boone if that was his goal. Everyone seems to be on the same page and despite not liking it, Nat shakes her head.
“Maybe he wasn’t trying to kill him. Maybe it was a warning.”
Wanda scowls at this and opens her mouth to speak but Pietro beats her to it. He’s just as unsettled as she is, but he’s getting angrier about it than her.
“The person stalking Y/n at work was also a warning. What about her being poisoned? Like you said, Wanda, if Strucker was behind this, he wouldn’t give Y/n so many warnings.”
Wanda nodded in agreement because if she only believed one thing that Strucker told her tonight, it was that he wouldn’t have failed to hurt you if he’d tried. Wanda’s still trying to come to terms with this while figuring out who is actually behind the incidents.
“Agreed. I don’t think it’s Rumlow, Yelena.”
She sees the blonde is about to argue, so she does her best to pacify her without getting too bogged down.
“But in case we’re wrong, let’s circulate this picture.” Wanda gestures to the screen that has the best image of the shooter from last night with a frown.
“In case someone recognizes him.”
Nat nods and mutters something about having Vision do it, and Wanda just nods. She doesn’t want to tell him too much, but she knows that Nat will be discrete.
Pietro looks to his sister who is deep in thought and he walks around his desk to reach out for her. She stiffens slightly before relaxing at the hand on her shoulder, and she turns to her brother with a tired sigh.
“What about you, sestra? How are you holding up? What’s your plan?”
Pietro knows that his sister is worried. The fact that she’s here and not at home confirms this. That said, she would have likely brought Y/n here after what happened at work yesterday. The point was that his sister was dealing with something that she wasn’t used to. Usually, she was on the offensive and if someone targeted her, she took them out first. Unfortunately, this time she wasn’t the target, and she didn’t know who to go after. Her prime suspect was a bust, and you’re in a hospital bed recovering from being poisoned. Wanda’s out of sorts and she needs someone to tell her that she’ll figure it out.
Wanda takes a moment to look around the room at her family before smiling slightly as she turns back to Pietro.
“Being here helps, but it’s only temporary. Hopefully we’ll figure this out before Y/n grows impatient.”
A couple of them smile at the thought of you getting restless and wanting to go back to work. As much as they hate what happened, it has bought Wanda more time to figure things out. Knowing that you’ve been targeted multiple times will make you more lenient, but you won’t stay hidden away forever. Yelena smiles at the thought and shrugs.
“We can keep her distracted.”
Wanda can tell that Yelena means trouble by her tone and she is about to warn her off when Bucky’s phone rings. He answers it and listens to someone speak before responding calmly. “We’ll be right there.”
He hangs up before looking to Wanda as he stands up straight. There’s a lot to unpack in the short sentence he was told, but now isn’t the time. They need to get to medical now.
“We need to get downstairs.”
Boone shifts slightly from where he’s lying under your hospital bed. He’s been there for a while and he’s getting restless but he stays alert in case you need him. He eyes the food and water bowl in the corner of the room and considers going to get some when he hears something above him. He listens before sitting up carefully as the noise continues. Boone sneaks out from under the bed and sees you shaking slightly in your sleep. He whines when it becomes more violent and he’s barking loudly when your monitors start to alarm.
He starts to bark again when people suddenly run into the room. He recognizes them from before and just watches anxiously as they rush to your side and reach for a drug by your bedside.
“She’s seizing.”
“Get me 20mgs of midaz”
The nurse who administers it watches the clock and you simultaneously, and after 15 seconds of you continuing to seize, she calls it.
“I need another half dose, and someone page Dr. Palmer.”
Boone is watching intently as one person runs to grab their phone while the other two stay by your side and continue to administer antiepileptics. Your seizure has been going on for nearly 90 seconds before you finally respond to the third dose of midazolam. Boone whines from where he sits off to the side watching as you still and start to breathe normally again. The monitors you’re hooked up to have returned to their normal monotone beeping and Boone finally lies down but still watches you carefully.
When Dr. Palmer arrives about 5 minutes after you’ve settled, the first thing she notices is Boone’s sitting beside you with his head resting on your shoulder. He’s not in the way, but she can tell that her staff are slightly wary of him. She’ll have to address that after she figures out what happened to you.
“Dr. Hale, what happened?”
The blonde stands a little taller as she addresses the other doctor. Taylor Hale is a first-year resident who’s specializing in neurology under Dr. Palmer, but she spends a few nights a week here at the compound assisting with the redhead’s research as well as treating some of the patients. She hadn’t expected to treat anything more than a few agents who got banged up, so she was surprised and fairly horrified when you came in. Of course, she knew who you were because no sane person would step into this building without knowing who was in charge here. Granted, you weren’t one of the two Maximoffs that were in charge, but you were married to one of them and by association you were important.
“We were watching the monitors in the lounge, and everything looked normal here, but then we heard barking. A few seconds later Dr. Maximoff’s heart rate spiked to over 100, and we came in to find her seizing.”
The blonde continues to tell the story, and mentions how many doses of midazolam you got before responding. Christine frowns at this and looks to the medications that you’re currently receiving. She has to step closer to the bed and Boone as she does this but he just watches her closely before she takes a step back. The redhead takes a moment to think about what she’s been told, and she steps over to where she sees Boone’s food is and grabs one of the treats sitting next to it.
“So, Boone barks when she starts seizing and it lasts for how long – 90 seconds?”
All three of the others in the room nod in agreement, and Christine looks back to you before posing another question. She’s curious about what they think because although she has a pretty good idea, she knows that they might not. They’re here to learn and since you’re not in any immediate danger right now, taking a minute or two to teach this won’t do any harm.
“Now, can you think of reasons why Y/n would have a seizure?”
The three of them pause to think about it before one speaks up.
“Heavy metal toxicity causes it”
“How?”
Another speaks up to answer. “The uremic toxins build up from the metabolism of metal.”
She nods before turning to Dr. Hale who hasn’t said anything as she thinks about what Dr. Palmer might be getting at.
“Correct, but would we expect this after dialysis is complete and the uremia is resolved?”
They thought about what your blood work looked like post dialysis and shook their heads. Your liver, kidney and hemogram values were all normal.
“What could currently be a potential cause of excitation of her CNS?”
Dr. Hale speaks up quickly before she does what Dr. Palmer did and reassesses the fluids they have you on.
“Re-exposure through enterohepatic recirculation.”
Dr. Palmer nods before she walks back over to Boone and holds out a treat to him. He turns and sniffs it before accepting it gently.
“Good boy, Boone. Exactly, so what do we do about it?”
Silence.
“Redialyze?”
Christine shakes her head. “Not necessary and not without risks.”
Dr. Hale is already doing the math as Dr. Palmer pulls out her phone.
“We just need to keep giving her the chelating agent for the half-life of the toxin.”
She nods before dialing Bucky to let him know what’s happened. She knows that this place will be flooded in minutes, but for now she takes a moment to take in the silence.
“Calculate the dose for the suspect metal and I’ll check it after I call Mr. Barnes.”
It is almost 4 in the morning, but she has a feeling that he, as well as the rest of the team is still up trying to solve this mystery. She’d thought about how close someone would need to get to Y/n or how much they’d need to give her in food to get her this sick. Her thoughts are cut off by the sound of Bucky’s voice.
“Hey.”
“Bucky hi. Can you and Wanda come down here?”
Even though Bucky had told her that her wife was stable, Wanda still near ran down to medical with the brunette on her heels. She’d been surprised to hear that Christine was still here, or that she’d come back. This usually only happened if something went wrong, and with this in mind Wanda tried to remain calm as she walks into medical. She passes a few other patients who are sleeping before she arrives to your room to see it more crowded than she’d expected. One doctor was setting something up with your fluids while Christine looked at your chart again.
It wasn’t until Wanda turned to look at you that she saw Boone. He was still sitting by your bedside with his head resting on the mattress. He looked tired and Wanda knows she needs to give him a break.
“Christine, is everything okay?”
The other redhead turns around at the sound of your wife’s voice and she hears Boone start as well. His collar clinks loudly as he sits up and gives Wanda his full attention. She hears Bucky stop behind her to listen to the answer, but she doesn’t pay him much mind as Christine nods and Wanda nearly sighs in relief.
“Yes, everything’s okay. She had a seizure about 10 minutes ago, but we’ve started her on something that should help neutralize the toxin for as long as it’s in her system.”
Wanda frowns at the news that you hadn’t just been sleeping peacefully. She’s feeling guilty for leaving again and she looks back to you and sees that even in sleep you seem tense. You’re sweating and your brow is furrowed the way it does when you think too hard. Wanda finally turns to Boone and holds out her hand to him with a small smile.
“That’s good to hear. I hope he hasn’t caused too much trouble.”
Wanda looks back from petting the yawning dog to the two doctors who are shaking their heads. The blonde is changing your fluid bag and running the line through the pump as Christine smiles at Boone who sits while panting happily with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He nudges Wanda’s hand with his nose when she stops petting him but he quickly turns to lick Bucky when he starts to scratch his back.
“The sm-smartest boy.”
“Not at all. He actually picked up that something was wrong before the monitors did. He’s very smart.”
It’s as if Boone knows that he’s being talked about and he practically preens when Christine says this. Wanda smiles proudly while Bucky laughs at this. Despite it being true. He’s about to ask how long until she expects you to wake up, but a quiet groan cuts him off, and all five heads whip around to look to where you’re starting to stir.
You mumble under your breath as you fight to open your eyes and see who’s around you. You’d heard voices that you recognized but couldn’t place immediately, but suddenly you’re surrounded. Boone is quick to jump back towards you and nose at your hand with a loud whine that makes you cringe. Wanda reaches out for you next and she feels her heart clench at how cold your hand is and how pained you look.
“Open your eyes for me, detka, and I’ll get him a little brother, or sister.”
You don’t open your eyes immediately, but you squeeze your wife’s hand with a small smile as you think about what she’s saying. You’re not sure who else is in the room with you, but if you had to guess it was Bucky and a doctor. You blame your drugged, fatigued state for what you say next, and although Bucky coughs awkwardly and the doctors look away to give you a modicum of privacy, Wanda just smiles at you.
“I thought we were already working on that. IVF or whatever.”
Wanda laughs at this before she shakes her head as she reaches out to brush your hair behind your ear. Her smile widens when your eyes open and you blink away some of your sleepiness. You smile at her and reach out for the hand that’s against your cheek with a sigh. You both miss the short exchange between the doctors as they read each other’s mind. Dr. Hale makes a note to herself to test your blood for one more thing once she’s back in the lab.
“We can talk about that later, Y/n. Once you’re feeling better.”
You nod before you turn your attention to the others in the room. You scratch Boone behind his ears and boop his nose as you greet everyone else. Bucky nods at you while you struggle to clear the sleep from your eyes.
“Dr. Palmer. Dr. Hale. Thank you for your expertise. And your drugs.”
Christine laughs softly at this as she moves forward to greet you with a friendly smile. The two of you have seen plenty of each other over the years, but it has been a while since you’d been down in medical. This might be your third time being down here for your own injuries instead of anyone else’s. Usually Nat and Yelena’s.  
“Always happy to help, and congratulations.”
You smile appreciatively before saying something to that affect. You stifle a yawn as Dr. Hale leaves to run that test for Dr. Palmer. She nods to the three still in the room before disappearing quickly. She takes a deep breath before straightening out her coat with a sigh. She was a little surprised that you knew who she was, but then again, she really shouldn’t be. Despite not being as present as Wanda had over the years, she knew you kept tabs on your friends who ended up down here for whatever reasons.
Taylor stops in the lab and quickly moves to the fridge that has your blood in it. She stops suddenly when the lights flicker for a few seconds leaving her a little disoriented. She waits until they stop before looking through the labeled tubes until she finds yours.
She spends a little longer finding where the hCg detection tests are. They’re not normally run here, or rather she doesn’t typically do it, so it takes a few minutes for her to find them. Once she does, she takes your blood and gets the test set up.
She’s about to drop your blood into the supernatant when the lights flicker again.
“What the…”
Wanda frowns as the lights flicker once again. She’s not sure what’s happening, but she knows that the power going out will cause more problems down here than anywhere else. Bucky reads her mind and excuses himself to go investigate and make sure the backup power will work. Once it’s just you, Wanda and Christine, Wanda turns to the other redhead and asks the questions she’s been wrestling with all night.
“So how do you think this happened?”
Christine sighs before she gestures for Wanda to take a seat in the chair beside your bed. She does after moving it closer so she can hold your hand, and you smile as you try to fight your fatigue enough to hear what the doctor has to say. You have your theories, but you’re not the expert by any means.
“I believe that you were poisoned Y/n, and since you mentioned your lunch tasting off it makes sense that would be the source. Did you get your food yourself?”
You shake your head because as you’d promised Wanda you hadn’t left the clinic. This also meant that Bucky didn’t leave it either. You’d asked someone who was already going out to grab you something. You say this and Wanda doesn’t want to ask but she needs to consider all of the options. The other redhead seems to be on the same page and she waits for Wanda to speak.
“Who brought you lunch?”
You frown at the question because you don’t remember who you asked. You think about it for a moment before you come up with a name.
“One of the assistants said he was going out. Tyler, but he’s been there forever Wands. It wasn’t him.”
Wanda seems to consider this briefly before she shakes her head. She doesn’t want to argue with you, but she will be looking into him as well first thing tomorrow. Christine just nods at this before Wanda mentions that she’ll follow up at the restaurant tomorrow.
Wanda and Christine talk for a little while longer, but you’re drifting in and out of sleep. Boone’s returned to his place by your side, and has rested his head on your lap in what looks like the least comfortable position possible. You don’t notice though and you also miss Christine leaving you and Wanda alone. Your wife considers her next move before she reaches out for your hand again.
“Y/n?”
You open your eyes to see Wanda standing over you with a questioning look. The lights have dimmed and the way the light hits her hair from behind makes it look like its glowing and you smile.
“Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?”
You nod immediately before taking a deep breath and moving over as much as you can without exerting yourself too much. You still groan in effort and Wanda frowns in worry, but she doesn’t get to protest before you turn back to her with a grin.
“Come sit my dear.”
Wanda just rolls her eyes at you but moves quickly to occupy the space you’ve made for her. Boone shifts slightly before resting his head down right next to yours. You turn to kiss his forehead before turning back to your wife. It was a tight fit, but when you wrap your arms around her to pull the redhead close you don’t care. You breathe a sigh of relief as you close your eyes and rest your head on Wanda’s shoulder.
“Is this okay?”
Wanda hums in approval before she scoots back so she’s even closer to you. She yawns as she too closes her eyes and decides to try and take a nap. It’s obscenely early and she needs to sleep. Granted she’d thought she’d be in her own bed, but she’d rather be here with you than alone in her own.
“I love you, Y/n.”
You smile against Wanda’s neck before you kiss her cheek. “I love you too, Wands.”
Wanda isn’t sure what wakes her up at first. She’s sore from sleeping on an uncomfortable bed, but she’d been tired enough that it hadn’t mattered. She opens her eyes and realizes the lights are back on but you’re still asleep. There’s a low sound accompanying the background noise of your monitors, but it isn’t until Wanda turns to face you that she realizes what it is.
As soon as she sees you’re still asleep, she sees Boone sitting up straight with his ears back and a look of fierce concentration on his features. Wanda frowns in confusion as she turns to see what he’s growling at and she nearly curses under her breath when she spots Vision standing in the doorway.
“Wanda, I apologize for waking you, but I have urgent news.”
Wanda rolls out of bed as quickly and carefully as possible before she tries to make herself look presentable as possible. She had slept in the clothes she wore yesterday and her hair was a mess, but she couldn’t do much about that right now. She sighs as she runs a hand through her hair and takes a couple of steps away from you so as not to wake you.
“It’s alright, what time is it?”
When Vision says it’s nearly 10 Wanda’s jaw drops in surprise. How did she sleep in so late, and how had no one come to wake her up already? She doesn’t get to think about this much before she leads Vision out of the room. She doesn’t want to wake you up and as the two of them walk towards the elevator, Wanda takes out her phone to text Bucky. She asks him to check on you soon before she turns her attention to Vision who’s looking more eager than she usually sees him.
“What did you find out?”
Wanda hadn’t seen the older man for a while. In all honesty she was avoiding him because she had so much going on, and he was still a little clingy despite everything. She waits as he presses the button on the elevator before turning to her. He’s frowning but Wanda can tell he’s not upset.
“I’ve confirmed that it was Rumlow that trespassed on your property the night before last.”
Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise and she curses the fact she has to apologize to Yelena as she walks into the elevator. She thinks about what this could mean with a nod but she has to make sure he’s positive before she starts down that road.
“You’re sure?”
Vision nods without hesitation before mentioning that someone recognized his gun from the video and he’s since confirmed it. Wanda groans at the idea of having to deal with Rumlow. He is a pain in the ass and he hates her; he always has. She also realizes that either Rumlow’s gone rogue, or Strucker had lied to her face. She scowls at the thought and Vision seems to realize what she’s thinking and he coughs nervously before continuing.
“Yes, well there’s more. I had someone go back to the restaurant that Y/n got lunch from yesterday and it turns out it was delivered by a driver who didn’t tamper with the food. So, she must have been poisoned another way.”
Wanda walks out of the elevator before turning to the older man with a confused frown. This doesn’t make any sense. Based on what Christine found, you’d ingested the poison, so if it wasn’t your lunch, how else could it have happened. She sighs as she keeps walking with a groan. Her day is already starting to get out of hand.
“I’ll check with Y/n once she’s up to see if we’ve missed anything.”
Vision stops walking as soon as she says this, and Wanda stops short of reaching Pietro’s office to turn and look at him. She figured her brother would want to know whatever Vision found out, and she’s also eager to figure out if he’s found anything else out about your stalker/poisoner.
“There’s one more thing, Wanda.”
She waits for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, she gets a little frustrated. She’s sore from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, she’s still a little tired and she’s getting more stressed by the second. She starts to close the distance between Pietro’s office and she waves Vision along.
“What is it? Come on, let’s see if Pietro’s in.”
Wanda’s surprised to feel Vision grab her hand and pull her to a sudden stop before she can knock on the door. She whips around to face him with a scowl and he immediately drops her hand, but she’s still pissed. She doesn’t get a chance to tell him off before he’s apologizing and confusing Wanda even more.
“I’m sorry – it’s just, I don’t know if you’ll want your brother to hear this.”
Wanda’s shooting Vision a bewildered look and that prompts him to finally spit it out. She’s not sure what she expected him to say, but this certainly was not it.
“While looking into the possibility of someone at work poisoning her, it was discovered that Y/n had an affair.”
Wanda had to fight the sudden urge to slap him across the face for suggesting such a thing. She also had to hold back her instinct to say the first thing that came to mind, or rather scream it. She knocked on the door to her brother’s office a little harder than necessary.
“That’s bullshit. Who told you that?”
“Come in!”
Wanda doesn’t wait for Vision to answer and she flings the door open and steps inside her brother’s office with a face like thunder. Pietro looks up and immediately is put on edge by his sister’s expression, but he doesn’t have time to ask her what’s wrong before Vision comes scurrying in after her.
“I’m sorry, Wanda, but my source is reliable.”
Pietro frowns in confusion as he looks between a frazzled Vision and a near murderous Wanda. He decides to speak up before someone, Vision most likely, gets slapped.
“What’s going on, Wanda?”
Wanda takes deep breath before she shuts the door behind Vision and turns to her brother. She moves to lean against one of the chairs in front of his desk before glancing at him and then turning to glare at Vision.
“Vision was just about to tell me why he thinks Y/n had an affair.”
 Part 5
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alwaysmychoices · 9 months
Text
Making a Run For it
Synopsis: Today's the day that Ethan makes a run for it. He's leaving Edenbrook and moving to California before Charlie can ruin her career by running away first. When Charlie discovers his plan, she has to ask herself whether she really wants to lose him -- and when she realizes she wants him back, she has to find a way to convince him to stay.
Chapter 41 of the “with and without” series
Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)
Words: 5.1k (sorry but also you're welcome)
Rating: Teen (language)
Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)
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It was hardly noon, but Charlie was already nursing her third cup of coffee. After texting with Ethan a few nights earlier, she’d barely slept. She was too aware of the absence in the other side of her bed, and no amount of coffee could make up for the sleepless nights she’d spent vacillating between making a run for it and showing up half-naked on his doorstep, begging for an ill-advised ceasefire.
Charlie thought it would help to focus on her new life waiting for her when she left Edenbrook and escaped this vicious back-and-forth. She searched for new apartments, scheduled flights, and sought someone to sublet her current place while she was away. But nothing could drive Ethan from her mind, nor could any amount of self-restraint stop her from drunk-purchasing new lingerie in Ethan’s favorite color just in case.
The longer she stood there, the more she lamented the lonely corner she’d backed herself into. But life crisis or not, Charlie had charts and paperwork to finish, and that required all the attention she could muster.
Charlie rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus on her charting, but the idea of a power nap in the call room was increasingly appealing. Just when Charlie was ready to cave, she was startled by a nervous-looking intern barreling towards her.
"Dr. Greene?” the intern – Amanda Stevens – called out to her, like she was afraid Charlie would escape before giving her advice. Admittedly, Charlie wished she had.
“Yeah?” Charlie raised her eyebrows, releasing the dream of a nap.
“I was wondering what I should do with the newest test results for the patient in Room 255.”
“255?” Charlie repeated. That was Ethan’s patient, and it said so on the chart. Charlie should know – she’d asked to be taken off the case last week to avoid any unnecessary interactions with Ethan.
Charlie was surprised to hear Stevens ask such an easy question. It was nearly the end of her first year of residency, and Stevens was known to be capable. Why was she still asking questions about where to send test results this late in the game?
Still, Charlie remembered how it felt to be a terrified first-year, so she tried to avoid sounding dismissive as she replied, “Dr. Ramsey’s the attending. Just send it his way if you’re unsure.”
“I know,” Dr. Stevens blushed, “I normally wouldn’t ask, but the system says Dr. Ramsey isn’t here for the next few days and to direct his patients to another doctor. But he was here this morning, and he didn’t say anything about leaving. Dr. Ramsey never goes anywhere. For the last few months, he’s spent more time here than at home. I was wondering if it was a glitch.”
Charlie frowned. It stung to be reminded that, since their breakup, Ethan had become a hermit in his office, but it wasn’t untrue. And anyways, Ethan never left without leaving detailed instructions on what to do in his absence. It was almost insulting how detailed his instructions would be – like he trusted no one but himself to care for his patients.
He wasn’t the type to leave without warning.
Or at least, leave without warning his coworkers. It wouldn’t be the first time he left without telling Charlie.
“Since you know him so well, I thought you might know what’s going on,” Stevens added, as if this would ease her odd request.
It didn’t.
Charlie didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t. Instead, she pulled up the patient file to check for herself, and she saw the same notice – informing any reader that Dr. Ramsey was on vacation and to direct his patient materials to Dr. Carrick until he returned.
Vacation? Charlie’s face twisted. Ethan didn’t go on vacations.
“Give the results to Dr. Carrick and be prepared to present if necessary. If it’s a glitch, Carrick should be able to tell you,” Charlie stammered out, still staring at the screen.
Satisfied, Dr. Stevens hurried off to Dr. Carrick’s office, leaving a confused Charlie in her wake.
What the fuck is going on? Charlie thought. She knew Ethan was here – she saw him this morning doing rounds with the interns. Would he really go on vacation without telling her? Could he stomach leaving work without providing nauseatingly detailed instructions to the interns?
The mystery was too enticing to ignore. She knew it was dangerous to go to Ethan’s office – there was a 50/50 shot of having sex on his desk or screaming at him so loud the whole hospital heard. And they hadn’t been able to interact without exchanging longing glances in days. But Charlie had to know what was going on.
Closing out her paperwork, Charlie went to his office and knocked on the door. There was no way he’d already left. Even if he was going somewhere, he was probably just hiding out in his office. Yet no one answered the door.
She tried again – no response.
Charlie got out her phone and instinctively opened his contact, but she lost her nerve and texted Harper instead.
Charlie: Do you know where Ethan is? The system says he’s on vacation.
Harper: Did he not tell you?
Charlie: Tell me what?
The text turned to “read,” but instead of receiving a typically prompt reply, Harper hesitated. Three dots indicated she was typing, but they stopped without any message from Harper. Charlie’s stomach lurched, wondering what on earth could make Harper delay when she was famous for responding immediately.
“Charlie! Just who I was hoping to find,” Naveen interrupted Charlie’s anxious thoughts. He looked casual, but his gait was anything but. He was practically running towards her, carrying a small envelope with an unusually tight grip.
“Oh? Everything okay?” Charlie asked, trying to match his friendly demeanor. They were both faking it – and doing so poorly. The entire time, Charlie eyed her cell phone screen, frowning as Harper apparently started and abandoned a dozen text messages. What could be so bad that she didn’t want to tell her?
“Of course,” Naveen smiled warmly, but there was something strange about his expression. Unease. Concern. Panic, maybe?
Had something horrible happened to Ethan?
“I am under strict orders to give you this letter at 2 pm. Unfortunately, my afternoon is booked, so I’ll just have to defy orders and give you the letter now,” Naveen explained.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He did have a meeting at 2 pm – he quickly scheduled one as soon as Ethan walked into his office this morning and told him the plan. Naveen wanted to make sure he had a perfect alibi for defying his friend’s wishes. He loved Ethan, but this was undoubtedly the stupidest thing he’d ever done.
Naveen held out a small envelope for Charlie, and immediately, she recognized the impatient yet rigid handwriting on the front. It was Ethan’s handwriting, and the letter was addressed to her.
She accepted it, tracing her fingers over the imprint of her name. Charlie was desperate to open it, hoping it had some explanation for all the strangeness around her, but she was too embarrassed to tear it open when Naveen had just informed her of the intended delivery. If she wasn’t supposed to receive this letter for another two hours, was it fair to open it now?
Naveen watched expectantly, hoping she would tear that letter to shreds and stop the melodramatic catastrophe ahead. He frowned when she hesitated.
Finally, he pointedly said, “I’ll give you privacy so you can read your letter. I’ll be in my office when you have questions.”
“When I have questions?” Charlie repeated, but Naveen had already started walking away – eager to have that enveloped opened.
Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the small envelop once more. None of this made sense. Ethan was a creature of habit – but everything about this went against his usual behavior. He’d left work without warning. He’d written her a letter, which he’d never done before, and then cryptically given it to Naveen for delivery. Something was happening, and she didn’t like it.
Curiosity got the better of her, and within moments of being alone, she ripped the envelop to shreds, too curious to protect the paper. Her eyes flew over the words, too stunned to speak as she processed the contents.
“My darling Charlotte,
I don’t know if this letter is a relief or a betrayal. I don’t even know which I’d prefer.
I’m leaving Boston. By the time you read this letter, I will be on a flight to San Diego for an interview. If all goes according to plan, you’ll never have to see me again. I don’t trust myself to come back before starting the new job. I’m already so close to abandoning this grand gesture and selfishly demanding your forgiveness when I know you should never forgive me.
Charlie, you deserve Boston. You deserve Edenbrook. You deserve the illustrious career I know you’ll have. You deserve the dream I ruined.
I can’t stop you from leaving, but I can take away your reason for going. If you’re running away from me, there’s no need. I’m already gone.
Please stay. Be the amazing doctor I know you were meant to be. I’ll read every paper you ever publish. I’ll be proud of every discovery you make. And I’ll rest easy knowing that you needed to be free of me to achieve it all.
 Don’t let me be the reason you upend your life and career. I’m not worth it. But you, my brilliant Charlotte, are worth everything.
I love you, Rookie. Make me proud.
-ER”
Charlie read the letter over and over again – as if repetition could cure the incurable and explain the unexplainable.
Anger and despair roared with each new word, resulting in shaking hands and a tear-stained page.
This… This… This asshole.
This self-important, self-sabotaging asshole! He had to get his way. He was so insufferably stubborn – almost as infuriating a match to her own tenacity. Somehow, Ethan managed to be the worst of them both, indulging in all of Charlie’s worst faults and adding more of his own. To do something like this – Charlie raged and mourned in equal measure.
He left before she could. And then he didn’t even tell her!
Because of him, the last time she’d be able to see him was this morning in the halls.
She hadn’t appreciated it. She hadn’t catalogued all the lines on his face or savored the scent of his cologne. Now that she tried to remember, she didn’t even know what color his tie was. Had he been wearing a tie?
She deserved a better memory. And fuck, the last time she saw him couldn’t be today. She was tired and disheveled. She wasn’t even sure if she’d remembered to put in deodorant this morning, and this was her final viewing?
There was so much she still needed to do. She needed to yell and scream at him. She needed to hold him and smell him and remember all the little details. She needed more time.
No.
He didn’t get to leave like this.
Not without saying goodbye. Or giving her this ridiculous, infuriating, and heartfelt letter instead.
What a pathetic, ridiculous trade. She’d spent two years loving him and one year sharing his bed, and now she didn’t even get a proper goodbye.
It wasn’t even the first time he’d done this to her. He’d abruptly abandoned her in the name of self-sacrifice before, and she’d done the same to him. But it was different now. She knew how he liked his coffee. She knew the laundry detergent he preferred. She knew … him.
Charlie nursed her anger like a neglected seedling, hoping that fury could erase the deep sense of loss in her chest. But her wrath failed to take root. Every time she told herself she hated Ethan Ramsey, she remembered the last lines of the letter.
“I love you, Rookie.”
Ethan loved her.
Charlie loved him.
The rest of it was a petty race to see who could fuck up first.
The fights seemed so stupid now. The issues looked resolvable. She could spend the rest of her life with this man if they’d both just let the other stay.
And suddenly, it was so simple that Charlie felt ridiculous for not seeing it before. Charlie loved Ethan more than she loved her reasons keeping them apart, and she deserved the right to say that to his face.
She had to stop him. He hadn’t left yet – she had time.
The realization spurred Charlie to movement, and before she knew it, she was sprinting through the halls to Naveen’s office. She needed to find out which airport he’d gone to. She could track down the flight from there, and if she left quickly, she might make it in time. But she’d need to tell someone before she left. She couldn’t just abandon her patients without approval.
Everyone moved out of her way – some with confused expressions, others with a knowing sense of relief. Later, she would wonder how much her coworkers knew about Ethan’s secret plan to leave, but hopefully, she’d be safely tucked in Ethan’s arms by the time those thoughts reached her.
Naveen’s assistant wordlessly motioned Charlie into his office, despite the meetings Naveen said would consume his entire afternoon.
Breathlessly, Charlie heaved at the door and sputtered out a series of questions, “Where is he? When’s his flight? I need to go, I’m so sorry, but someone needs to cover my patients because-“
Naveen cut her off. Luckily, he’d prepared for all of those requests. Otherwise, he would have had to rely on her labored speech, and that would have been too time-consuming to decipher. How fast had she been running?
“Dr. Carrick has taken over your patients for the next hour, and Dr. Trinh offered to take the hour after that, if you need it. The list goes on, as you can imagine,” Naveen calmly shuffled through his papers, “Ethan is flying out of Logan Airport on a Delta flight scheduled for 1:55. The monitors will tell you his gate number. If you leave now, you’ll make it there before he gets through security, but just in case, I bought you a ticket.”
Naveen held out a piece of paper – an airline ticket to Nevada leaving at midnight. It was the cheapest same-day flight he could find.
“But how…?” Charlie trailed off, accepting the paper. It was too grand of a gesture, but she also couldn’t fathom giving it back.
“People who aren’t in love don’t have to run thousands of miles away to stay away from each other,” Naveen smiled softly, “I always knew you two would find your way back to each other. I just wished you hadn’t been so dramatic in getting there.”
“Naveen,” Charlie choked, rubbing her thumb along the ticket barcode. Charlie knew she’d never step foot in Nevada, but it was still the greatest gift she’d ever received, “Thank you so much. I can’t begin to tell you how much this means –“Charlie wiped at her eyes, momentarily forgetting the rush as she tried not to cry.
“Sweet Charlotte, you are one of my dearest friends. But you need to leave right now and stop Ethan from making a huge mistake.”
“Right, oh my God,” Charlie felt the anxiety creep back into her bones, making her practically bounce in place with the effort to stay still, “Thank you! I need to get a cab, fuck,” Charlie covered her mouth, offering an apology for her language as she rushed out of the office.
 Naveen smiled softly with relief.
One day, he would tell them that watching them fall in love was one of the most stressful experiences of his life, but today, he was satisfied that they were still in love.
Charlie bolted though Edenbrook with less care than should have been reserved for such a delicate place of healing. She weaved and ran through the halls, apologizing when necessary and promising to make up for the inconvenience. But she didn’t stop running.
Not even when she got out her phone to secure the fastest ride to the airport she could find, even if the cost made her wince.
Ethan was wrong. He was worth it. He was worth everything. Even an outrageous cab fare.
She imagined his face when she found him at the airport. What would she say? How would she convince him to stay? Would he even listen to her? For the first time, Charlie was thankful for the luxury of a long cab ride to compose her thoughts.
But then she didn’t need to imagine his face.
Because, when she reached the front door of Edenbrook, there he was.
He was standing outside, still putting his suitcase in the backseat of the cab. She didn’t need to race to the airport – he was still here.
Charlie couldn’t believe it, staring at him with a mix of awe and disbelief.
“You’re here,” Charlie breathed, amazed he heard her over the bustling city behind them. But of course, he did. It was Charlie. He always noticed her.
But she wasn’t supposed to be here.
“I am,” Ethan froze.
I almost didn’t go, he thought. His car was originally scheduled for 11:30 sharp. He’d technically been off the clock for an hour now, but he’d pushed back his car so many times that a bad stretch of traffic could ruin his entire itinerary. He’d lingered in his office for so long, finding every reason to procrastinate his exit. It was as if he’d hoped she’d sensed the danger and come running. When she didn’t magically come to stop him, he’d forced himself out of the hospital – only to wander the block for a while before finally getting in his cab.
He'd wanted to see her one last time. He wasn’t sure if he could leave without a proper send-off. But he also knew that seeing her would ruin his whole plan. There would never be enough “lasts” with Charlie. He would always want one more look, one more conversation, one more kiss. He’d spend his whole life chasing the perfect memory with her, and by then, it would be too late. He had to go before his mistakes were too engrained in her life to be undone.
But there she was – his beautiful Charlotte. He felt his resolve break before he could even admit it to himself. He’d always find a reason to stay for her.
And Charlie’s resolve broke a little bit too – just for different reasons. Her simple realization was muddied with hard truths and stinging betrayals – the most daunting of all was how much she loved him. She was so angry and hurt, but she was still so foolishly in love. She was his to hold and his to break, and they were both very good at breaking things.
It took a very large dose of courage to finally start talking.
And she began terribly.
“You are stubborn. And you think you’re always right. You’re so fucking afraid of ruining things that you try to ruin it. You should have let me make my own decisions, and you were wrong to try to fix everything because you disagreed with me,” Charlie puffed out. Her cheeks flushed with the effort of running after him and the frustration flowing through her words.
“Charlotte I’m so-“
“I’m not done,” Charlie cut him off. “You were an asshole to leave without saying goodbye – when you went to the Amazon and now.”
“How did you know I-?” Ethan began, but she silenced him with a look.
It wasn’t two yet. She wasn’t supposed to have the letter.
“But I did the same thing to you. We’re both…” Charlie paused, trying to find the perfect way to describe their cosmically misaligned faults. But all she could come up with was “Assholes. But I love you, and I’m not letting you get on that plane.”
Ethan’s hands itched to take hers – to abandon his grand gesture and run up to her. To hold her. To feel the warmth of her skin and feel the thump of her heartbeat. To promise to spend the rest of his life making up for his mistakes.
But at his core, Ethan didn’t believe he deserved her. He was too damaged. Too insecure and irrational. To self-righteous and overbearing. He’d done too much wrong to ever deserve something so right.
“I’ll ruin your life,” Ethan managed, despite the lump in his throat and the crippling sorrow that he’d never be enough for the woman he loved. He said it like a warning, like he was begging her to believe him. Even in protesting, he knew he couldn’t resist running back to her.
“No, you won’t,” Charlie said firmly. She didn’t know where she found such resolve when, in all likelihood, he would ruin her life. She’d never be the same after him. One misstep and she’d be destroyed. But she gave him the trust she wanted them both to earn.
Ethan shook his head, but he was already walking toward her. She was like a magnet, pulling him closer and closer to danger. He was close enough to smell her shampoo – coconut and vanilla – and it almost broke him. Tears welling in his eyes, Ethan’s fingertips grazed her cheek. When she leaned into his hand, he instinctively cupped her face, pushing a stray curl out of her eyes.
When he looked at her, it was with desperation.
Desperation that she believed him – that she understood the profound risk associated with loving him.
And desperation that she wouldn’t care. That he could hold her until they were nothing but bone and old memories.
“I couldn’t even tell anyone you were mine. Just like you said – I was so afraid of fucking everything up that I actually fucked it up,” Ethan was pleading with her to appreciate how horrible he’d been, “You deserve better.”
He didn’t even realize that, since approaching her, he’d bent his knees to even out their height difference. He didn’t feel the way he bent to her, still desperately concerned with being close to her. Something about that made her smile.
“Would you do that now?” she asked, hoping she already knew the answer.
He should have lied.
That would be the right thing to do.
But the idea of hiding her now was so outrageous that Ethan laughed. A weak, tear-stained, breathless laugh – but a laugh all the same.
“No,” he shook his head, “I’d scream it from the atrium. I’d be obnoxious about it. Probably even marry you and force you to take my last name like some asshole.”
Dr. Charlotte Ramsey.
It wasn’t terrible to either of their ears.
“I wouldn’t change my name,” Charlie countered, the smile still lingering on her lips.
“Good,” Ethan was laughing again. He traced the curve of her cheek, swallowing back a sob as he asked himself what the fuck he was doing.
He was supposed to be running away right now. Why was he holding her?
“I know we keep messing it up,” Charlie chewed on her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Ethan’s resolve not to free it, “But I love you. I don’t want to live without you, and I genuinely believe we can make it work. We just… need to be less dramatic, maybe. Talk it out instead of threatening to move to different states.”
That was funny, Ethan thought to himself, but he was too panic-stricken to laugh.
“What if I hurt you?” Ethan asked with such raw pain and fear that it took Charlie aback.
“You will,” she said quickly – too quickly to phrase it as delicately as the conversation deserved.
Of course, he would. Reminded of his ultimate mission, Ethan started to pull away – intent on getting the hell out of Massachusetts before he could harm her. Charlie stopped him, clamping her hands on his wrist desperately.
“I’m going to hurt you, too. That’s just what happens, Ethan. But I still love you, and if being in love with you means that we’re going to hurt each other sometimes, I still want you,” Charlie confessed, “I trust you, Ethan. Even if you don’t trust yourself.”
By now, they’d amassed a curious crowd of onlookers, but Ethan would have rather died than let her go and pretend like he didn’t love her for the sake of some strangers. Sensing them, too, Charlie started to untangle herself from their complicated embrace, but Ethan stopped her.
I don’t care if they see, he quietly implored. Her eyes widened, and to her own surprise, she did trust him.
“Stay with me in Boston,” Charlie begged.
“What if I ruin your career?”
“I don’t care.”
“What if I hurt you and we don’t work it out – and all of it could have been avoided if I’d just left today?”
“I’d still want you to stay.”
She’d want me to stay, Ethan mulled over that phrase until it was part of his soul.
This brilliant, wonderful, kind, and thoughtful woman. She’s everything he ever wanted but never thought he’d deserve. And she trusted him. She wanted him.
Maybe he just had to trust her, too.
His plans crumbled in his hands – self-sacrifice be damned. All he ever wanted was Charlie, and oh my God, he was actually going to let himself have it.
“I’m going to stay,” Ethan said, eyes dazed. Like he hadn’t really processed what that meant.
But Charlie had. She was grinning ear-to-ear, and in his stunned state, Ethan thought she looked the most beautiful she’d ever looked.
I’m staying, he thought, I’m going to live the rest of my life loving Charlotte Greene.
How the hell did he get so lucky?
Eyes still brimming with tears, Ethan’s face split into a smile, and he scooped her in his arms, forgetting about their height difference as he lifted her off the ground to hold her close. His darling, wonderful Charlotte.
“I love you so much I can’t sleep without you,” the words flowed out of his mouth so quickly that Charlie could hardly process them. Every compliment and moment of affection he’d held back poured from his lips, intermixed with kisses across her skin. “I love you,” he kissed her nose. “I love you, Rookie.” He kissed her cheek.
He would have carried on like that forever – finding some new way to say he loved her as he kissed every inch of her face.
But Charlie interrupted him, looping her arms around his neck and kissing his lips the way she’d wanted to for months. It was raw and unrefined, blending pure adoration with desperation and unbridled need. It was spliced with flowing tears and face-splitting smiles, and it was the best kiss she’d ever had.
“I love you, Ethan Ramsey,” Charlie breathed against him, so mind-numbingly happy that she momentarily forgot every sadness she’d ever felt.
“I love you, Charlotte Greene,” Ethan replied, matching her smile. Passively, he wondered how long he’d have to wait until he could tack on a ‘Ramsey’ to that last name. Given how he felt right now, he’d last an hour before he was on his knees begging her.
Then again, doing that would require releasing her from his arms – and he had no interest in doing that.
HOOONNNKKKKK.
Charlie jumped, breaking apart just enough that Ethan could mourn the absence of her warmth, and he carefully put her down. They both looked to find the cab driver impatiently waiting for them. Admittedly, he’d been interested in their grand reunion, but he didn’t have all day to wait on a pair of lovebirds kissing on a sidewalk.
“Are we going to the airport or not?” he demanded.
“We are not,” Ethan grinned, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out two hundred dollar bills and offered them in conciliation for the wasted time. He looked back to Charlie, “We could still do a local fare. I have the rest of the day off.”
He hoped she’d suggest they just went home. He was eager to spend the entire day reclaiming every inch of that apartment with affection for Charlie, rather than the ghosts of her devastating absence. It was only a bonus if that day was mostly spent in bed.
But before she could say yes, her pager buzzed, informing her of an urgent patient update. Wasn’t Tobias supposed to take her calls?
“Shit, I need to check on this,” she frowned down at the device, cursing it and whoever sent the message, “But don’t go! I’ll find you right after. Just wait here.”
Charlie couldn’t fathom the idea of letting him go off in that car alone. She wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t still go to that stupid airport, so she lingered nervously.
“I promise I’m staying – in Boston and here while you check on the patient.” There was nothing that would take Ethan away now.
Charlie looked back at her pager, wondering how bad it would be if she just ignored it. But when confronted with all the horrific possibilities, beginning with a harmed patient and ending with the loss of her medical license, she immediately tucked the pager back in her pocket and rushed towards Ethan, giving him a quick kiss, “I’ll see you soon.”
“I know,” he kissed the tip of her nose.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now go.”
Ethan watched Charlie rush back into the hospital, despite looking over her shoulder at least a dozen times. When she was out of sight, Ethan gave the cab driver another fifty-dollar bill just to celebrate his good mood, and he took his suitcase out of the back, allowing the man to get about his day.
When Ethan started walking into the hospital, he got a better look at their witnesses, and he recognized a few faces. They looked nervous, like witnessing Charlie and Ethan was too personal to be the hospital gossip they’d hoped for.
Ethan waved politely, unbothered by their presence.
“We won’t tell, Dr. Ramsey,” one of them spoke up – a nurse on the third floor who Ethan recognized as being particularly kind to the residents when she helped clean up their mistakes. It was fitting that she would try to clean this up, too. Even if she didn’t know the full extent of Bloom’s threat, she knew that professing his love for a resident would be a huge scandal for Dr. Ramsey.
“No need,” Ethan shook his head, “But thank you.”
The nurse eyed him, silently offering him another chance to save himself, but Ethan didn’t take it.
Ethan picked Charlie. Despite all the danger of heartbreak and personal ruin, he’d promised to stay. And he knew that he couldn’t do that if he maintained the secrecy that drove them apart in the first place. Something had to change, and that meant being open about who he loved and how much he loved her.
So, Ethan knew exactly what he needed to do – beginning with meeting with Leland Bloom.
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kywaslost · 2 years
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Bakugou when You're Sick
A/N: Hello friends! I’m currently sick and craving Bakugou comfort so I wrote this. 100% based off of wednesday’s events. I definitely slept through almost half of the second half of the day. It’s awesome *note the sarcasm*. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Also, 2 posts in 1 day??? Never gonna happen again lol
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You weren’t sure when you noticed you were feeling a bit under the weather. It may have been in math, when Izuku pointed out that you were quiter than usual, when most days you were either crying over the day’s lesson or getting several problems wrong in a row. But today you were quietly sitting at a small pod of desks with him and Kirishima. Or maybe it was the fact that you slept all the way through lunch. You decided to sit outside with Tokoyami, Denki, and Jirou, falling asleep on Tokoyami’s shoulder.
You usually ate with Katsuki and his friends, except they were a loud bunch and you felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind your eyes. When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, Tokoyami gently woke up up and helped you to your feet.
“Are you feeling alright, Y/N?” he asked quietly. “You look unwell.”
“I’ll be alright,” you smiled in reassurance, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Just feel a bit crummy.” You walked with Tokoyami and Jirou to fifth period. “What are we even doing in Medical Interventions?”
“I think we’re finishing up that lab,” Jirou responded. “I know a lot of people didn’t finish those packets.”
You nodded slowly. “Sweet. I’m sleeping through that class. I finished all of that during the first 10 minutes of class yesterday.”
It didn’t take long before you made it to class, taking your seat in the back of the classroom between Bakugou and Tokoyami. You set your backpack down on the ground beside your desk and pulled out your computer, setting it on your desk. The bell rang and class began.
“Today you will be finishing up your bacterial lab, webquest, and conclusion questions,” your teacher said. “Today is a catchup day.”
“Sweet,” you muttered under your breath. “I’m taking a nap.” As students gathered in the groups (if they chose to work in them) and walked to the lab to work in peace, you laid your head down on your desk and closed your eyes.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tokoyami said with a soft smile.
“Night,” you smiled back. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
You were awoken by a hand rubbing your upper back. The touch was warm, gentle, comforting. It continued to rub your back as a voice spoke, “Y/N, class is almost over.”
You sighed, lifting your head slightly. You ran your hands over your face then rubbed your eyes.
“You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit,” you grumbled. Your head felt heavier than it did when you fell asleep.
A hand rested on your forehead. Your peeked at Bakugou through the periphery of your vision. Your tired eyes met his worried ones. “You’re not running a fever. But I think you should go back to the dorms.”
You shook your head. “No. I have 2 classes left. I’ll be ok.” The bell rang, and you stood slowly. When you stumbled and braced yourself on your desk, eyes squeezed shut, Bakugou’s arms hovered over you. “I’m ok,” you reassured. “Just stood up too fast.”
“I’ll walk with her to psychology,” Tokoyami offered. “We have it together. You’re next class is on the other side of campus, anyway.”
“I’m not bringing you home if you end up with Recovery Girl,” Bakugou said flatly. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you after school.”
By the time your last class ended, you were ehausted. Your whole body hurt and you constantly felt like throwing up and passing out. You barely made it back to the dorms, askign Deku to walk with you just in case someting happened.
“Of course I’ll walk with you,” he said softly. His worried gaze scanned over you. “No offense, but you look worse than you did earlier.”
“I feel worse,” you sighed. “I just want to go back to the dorms and sleep.”
“I can carry you,” Izuku offered, face turnign bright red. “Only if you’d want me to, of course.”
You shook your head. “No, thanks. I don’t want Katsu to see that he was right and that I should have went back to the dorms earlier.”
When you made it back to the dorms, Izuku made sue you made it to your room alright before leaving you be. You said thanks, then closed the door behidn you. You tossed your backpack on the ground, then hopped in bed. Your whole body hurt, and you felt weak. Too weak to change out of your school uniform, even. You had enough energy to turn on your Spotify, chosing a calm playlist to play as you slept.
Hours later, there was a soft knock on your dorm door. “Y/N, may I come in?” came a soft voice through the door.
You would have answered if you were awake.
The door creaked open and spikey blond hair poked through the cracks. Bakugou slid into the room, then closed the door gently behind him. He held a thermos, spoon, and a water bottle in one hand. As he neared the bed, he placed the items down on your desk. Katsuki crept towards your bed, then crouched down beside it. You were facing him, eyes closed and breath even.
Bakugou placed a hand on your head, then brushed the hair from your face. His thumb rubbed between your eyes softly. “Honey,” he cooed. “You’re not going to sleep tonight if you don’t wake up.”
Your stirred, then groaned. You rolled onto your back, then rubbed your eyes. “Kats?” you asked groggily.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Bakugou stood, then sat down beside you. “I brought you soup. You slept through dinner.”
You looked around tiredly for your phone. “What time is it?”
“Almost 6.” Bakugou grabbed your phone from where he almost sat on it.“Music on or off?” he asked.
“On.” Then he handed your phone to you.
“I brought you soup,” he said quietly. “You didn’t come down for dinner. How do you feel?”
You shrugged. “Crummy.”
“Do you feel any better?”
“Not really,” you answered. “My whole body feels heavy. And everything hurts.”
“Have you taken anything?” Bakugou asked as he reached for the bottle of water he brought.
“No.”
Bakugou stood, then dug through the drawers in your desk. He found your stash of pains meds, then tipped a couple into his hand. He handed them and the water to you. “Here.” As you took the medicine, he opened the thermos and picked up the spoon. He handed them to you as well. “What do you think this could be?”
“Probably just a cold,” you muttered. “On top of exhaustion. It’s been a crazy few months.”
“You got that right.”
Bakugou sat with you as you ate your soup, making occasional small talk. He asked if you needed anything, if you were cold, if you needed help with homework. He did leave temporarilly to get his backpack from his room, then returned. By this time, you’d changed into for comfortable clothing and settled down with your backpack on your bed. Bakugou settled in beside you, opening up his math homework.
It took longer than it should have to finish your work, considering you were sick. But Bakugou didn’t mind. He worked quietly beside you, helping you when you needed it. He made sure you took breaks every now and then to drink some water and give your eyes a break.
When it was all said and done, Bakugou tucked you into bed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Call me if you need me,” he said softly. He turned to leave, but you latched on to his hand.
“Will you stay?” you asked with pleading eyes. “You’re really warm. And you give the best hugs.”
Bakugou grinned softly. “Well, when you ask like that I can’t say no. I do need to go change though.”
He returned 10 mintues later, now clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had his phone charger in one hand, plugging it in beside the bed and setting his phone down on your desk. He climbed into bed beside you, sliding under the covers.
“Come here, sparks,” he cooed softly, opening his arms. You wrapped your arms around his waist and his arms fell around you. One rested on your hip while the other came up to hold the back of your head. Bakugou pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep. I hope you feel better soon
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