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rustedhearts · 2 years ago

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Lipstick Stain (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!reader)

summary: Steve poses with a model for the cover of Sports Illustrated, and jealousy rears its ugly head.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

the steve collection

warnings: slight angst (barely), jealousy issues, public sex (sort of…it’s in a dressing room), smut, more casual dominance.

new york city, june 1992

The JFK airport is packed with people—recent travelers, anxious vacationers, jittery tourists—but worst of all: swarms of paparazzi. You and Steve have barely made it through baggage claim before you hear the shutter of cameras, and spot the blinding lights of their obnoxious existence.

“Fuck’s sake,” Steve growls, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, the other hand holding his suitcase.

You follow his line of sight toward the other side of the airport, where the paparazzi are clumped together, eager and ready. You lean into his solid side, still warm from your embrace on the plane, and fiddle with your carry-on zipper.

“Just ignore them.”

Steve rolls his eyes, turning his head to press a quick kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, they can ignore my foot up their ass,” he mutters grumpily.

You crack a smile, cheeks swelling with warmth from his kiss. You spin around to face him, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes beneath his backwards baseball cap.

“Come on, Steve, no fighting before the shoot. They need this face all pretty and blood-free for the magazine cover,” you coo.

Steve huffs, moving your hand from his hair and bringing your knuckles to his mouth to kiss them. He usually becomes overly affectionate when he’s nervous, and he's been riddled with knee-bouncing nerves since Mikey told him about his newest job. Instead of cracking noses and bruising jaws, Steve would be posing in front of a camera for Sports Illustrated. They were willing to pay a handsome fee for his face on the next cover.

“Still can’t believe I agreed to this shit,” he groans, pausing to grab your suitcase as it rolls by on the belt. “Mikey owes me big time.”

Steve snatches the carry-on from your hands and slides it over your suitcase handles, doing the same with his duffel before kicking both suitcases to roll behind him. You follow after, inhaling deeply as you approach the paparazzi. The speed of their shutter snaps increase rapidly as you close in.

“You’re going to look very handsome, Steve.”

Steve scowls, though you’re sure it’s just because of the white camera lights growing brighter as you approach the exit. Discolored sparks follow your every blink.

“We’ll see about that.”

♡ ♡

It was a fast trip from the hotel to the location for the magazine shoot. You barely had a chance to put something nicer than a pair of jeans and a sweater on before you were being hauled off in another car, and now, standing in the doorway of the bustling room, you wish you'd taken just a second longer.

The model, Steve's photo partner, is all legs and silky blonde hair. She saunters around the room, getting her makeup touched up, taking delicate sips of Coke from a bendy straw. You immediately reach to fix your hair and pull at the hem of your sweater, something colorful and fuzzy from back home.

"Big time. Big time, Mikey owes me," Steve grumbles from beside you, scowling at the sight of the busy room.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington! We're so glad you're here, thank you so much for doing this.” A shorter man stumbles toward the two of you, reaching out to shake Steve's hand and introduce himself.

Steve nods curtly, flashing a tight-lipped smile. You pinch his side, and when he glances toward you, you motion to the dark Ray Bans still sitting over his eyes. His eyes roll as he snatches them off and hands them to you. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater against your back, running his hand comfortingly against the skin of your lower spine. You shiver at the warmth of his touch.

"This is my girl," Steve announces to the shorter man gruffly, pulling you flush against his side.

The man nods jerkily at you, lowering into an unnecessary sort of bow that makes you press your lips together to hide a smile. Steve has a tendency to make everyone around him feel much smaller than they were. He bleeds possession and rage, and anyone around him can feel it.

"It-it's nice to meet you," the man stutters, uttering a name you barely have time to process before Steve is interrupting:

"Look, man, you're not expectin' me to wear something stupid, right?"

Wide eyes turn to Steve immediately, a red flush reaching the man's cheeks. Behind you, the blonde model sinks into a folding chair and tips her head back for her lips to get fixed. They delicately paint a coat of blood red across her mouth.

"Oh, n-no! Of course not, Mr. Harrington. Besides, next to her," the man steps aside to motion toward the blonde, "it's hard to look stupid, am I right?"

He snorts a chuckle, but Steve's eyes narrow and his lips curl into a thin line. You're selfishly glad he didn't join in on the perverted laughter, but you're sure he still agrees. Steve adjusts his hold on you, sliding his hand around to rest on your hip, arm around your waist.

"Let's get you changed."

♡ ♡

"Thank fuckin' god someone has a brain around here."

Steve finishes knotting the ties on his satin shorts, the same crimson color he wears in the ring. A pair of white socks pull up to his calves, high-tongued shoes tied expertly around his feet. He looks just as he does right before a fight, though a little more anxious—only Steve would find it more nerve-wracking to stand in front of a camera than to possibly lose his teeth.

You smile from your seat on the leather couch in his dressing room, watching him push his hair back against his head. Without a shirt, his shoulders look broad, his biceps thick and bulging, his abdomen perfectly cut and defined.

"See? I was right. You look very handsome, Stevie."

Steve sighs, eyes flittering your way quickly. He straightens up and rolls his shoulders back.

"Thanks, baby. Y’ got a book in that thing, don’t you?” He points to the purse slung over your shoulder (another gift from him) and you gaze down at it, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah…”

Steve strolls over toward the couch, stopping when his legs graze your knees. He carefully bends, planting his hands on either side of you to crowd you in. Your breath hitches when he cocks his head to fit his mouth over yours. His breath is warm and scented of mint and Marlboros. You can see his half-empty pack sticking out of his jeans on the floor.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you out a’ my sight.”

You huff, head tipping back to cast a pout at him.

“Steve, m’ not a child.”

He hums throatily, mocking your pout with a jut of his lip. Steve tips his chin down to quirk a brow and fix you with a stern, but gentle look.

“No, but I gotta have my guardian angel around to keep me safe, don’t I?”

You giggle, bracing your hands on either side of his face to pull him down and press your mouths together. He licks into your mouth, filling it with that tobacco and mint taste, eliciting a lustful heat in your stomach.

Just as you squeeze your thighs together, a harsh knock raps at the door. You jump to back away, but Steve instantly snatches the back of your hair to keep you attached. A squeak comes from your throat, muffled by his mouth. The knocking grows louder, and Steve growls, barely removing himself from your mouth before barking:

“What?”

“U-um they’re ready for you, Mr-Mr. Harrington.”

Steve huffs, pecking a few more firm kisses against your mouth; transferring his hold on your hair to your jaw, to squish your cheeks together while he peppers wet kisses all over your face. You giggle and squirm, batting him away with light smacks against his bare chest.

“Steve! Come on, they’re waiting!”

♡ ♡

If you could go back in time and beg Steve not to leave the dressing room, you would—because now you have to sit across the room and watch him get covered in lipstick stain kisses, from the leggy blonde of all people. Your fingers curl around your book, knuckles whitening as she travels down his abdomen and smears red all over. They oiled him up, and now he’s slick and glossy and covered in prints from another woman’s mouth. He’s graceful about it (as graceful as Steve could be) and keeps his arms above his head and away from her while her mouth wanders.

“Yeah, make sure you get the back, honey,” the photographer exclaims, watching from his position on the edge of the white backdrop.

Steve keeps a blank face while she makes her way around to his back, beginning at his shoulders first. He drops his arms and looks off toward you—sitting erectly in your folding chair with your legs crossed and your jaw clenched tight—and drops his left eye in a wink. You direct your gaze toward your book, pretending to read about Jay Gatsby and his wealthy longing, all the while you listen to the sound of her noisy kisses touching your boyfriend’s skin. You couldn’t stop your eye from twitching, or your stomach from clenching and twisting uncomfortably.

You’ve never been so jealous before. You never had reason to be before. It was always you and Steve—you and Steve at training, you and Steve at dinner, you and Steve at home, you and Steve on the street. You never let each other wander, and you suppose there had never even been a chance for another woman to swoop in, because he was always with you. Touching you, kissing you, pulling, groping, squeezing. Steve is generous and unabashed in his affection. Sometimes, it feels stifling. But right now, you wish he was smothering you with his heavy, solid weight, and covering you in kisses.

“Alright, now let’s try you standing here.”

You peek over the top of your book to watch the photographer point to the middle of the backdrop. Steve strides over.

“And Holly, honey, you stand behind him. I wanna see your hands around him, maybe some of your hair behind his shoulders.”

You huff under your breath and flick the page over noisily. You’d like to see your hands around her neck—

“That’s sexy. Steve, look into the camera—perfect.”

You glance over again, and your heart flutters and sinks all at the same time. Steve looks hulking standing there in front of the photographer, broad and big, staring with that dead-eyed glare into the camera. His jaw is tight and defined, his cheekbones sharp, the moles on his neck exposed but covered by the dozens of red kisses plastered on his golden skin. And her scarlet, manicured nails press into his pecs, trail up to frame his face, glide along his biceps. Steve never moves an inch, his expression stagnant, but his lack of reaction does nothing to lull your urge to kill. But you’d be lying if you said the way he flexes and glares doesn’t make your cheeks get hot.

“Alright, these look great. Thanks, Steve.”

You stand from your chair instantly, closing your book and clutching it to your chest, waiting for Steve to come over to you. But instead, he breaks away from “Holly,” and she follows after. You watch her flip her hair behind her shoulder and stick out her hand for introduction, and when Steve takes it, your knuckles crack around your book. Whirling around on your heel, you stomp toward the dressing room and close the door, flopping on the couch with a huff. You know it’s stupid, you know you’re being petulant—but you couldn’t help it.

“Jesus Christ.” The door flies open and slams closed in quick succession, and Steve appears still smeared in red with a sharp glare.

“Never doin’ that shit again. I—hey. What’s wrong with you?”

You tuck your chin into your hand on the edge of the couch and look off toward the wall, away from Steve. You give a shrug.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

Steve shuffles to a stop, hands finding his hips.

“You’re pouting.”

“M’ not pouting.”

His head falls back with an exasperated eye roll, shoulders drooping with a heavy sigh. You glance at him over your shoulder, still covered in lipstick, and stick your nose in the air.

“Well, glad to see you get to take those home with you.”

Steve blinks, brows creasing.

“What the hell are you—ohhh,” he pauses to scoff cruelly. “That’s what this is about, hmm?”

You turn your attention to the tops of your toes, playing with your laces, knees tucked to your chest.

“About what? I didn’t say anything.”

Steve takes a step toward the couch, and even in your periphery you can see the smug look on his face.

“Aww. You feelin’ jealous, baby?”

You squirm, scowling down at your laces. You tug at one harshly.

“No.” Your voice wobbles.

Steve tips his head to find your gaze, continuing his slow and steady ascent toward the couch. Every step makes your heart thump faster.

“No? It didn’t get you all riled up, angel? Seeing someone else touch me?”

Your breath turns shallow, falling in stuttered gasps when Steve stops and crowds you, mirroring his earlier position with his hands on either side of you. You drop your feet to the floor and he steps in, angling so his lips brush your cheek. You can smell her on him.

“Did it make you mad, pretty girl? Hmm?” His voice rasps in your ear and makes you shiver.

“It’s n-not funny, Steve,” you whine quietly.

Steve guides your hair behind your ear, knuckles grazing your cheek, thumb rubbing into the bone.

“Oh, no, baby, s’ not funny at all. We gotta fix it before your face gets stuck like that.”

“You’re making fun of me.” Your frown deepens, and Steve chuckles, pinching your puffy lips.

“M’ not makin’ fun a’ you, angel. S’ sweet you get so worked up over me.”

Your lips smack disapprovingly, but before you can utter a retort, Steve stands to his full height again. Your eyes follow this time, head tipped back to watch him tower over you. He reaches out to wrap his hand around the expanse of your jaw, chin propped in his palm. His fingers bite into your cheeks deliciously.

“But you know you’re the only girl for me, angel.”

Heat blooms on your face and excitement bubbles in your belly, subdued by Steve’s mouth slanting over yours. It’s only after a few moments of smacking lips and gnashing teeth that Steve uses his hold on your face to lift you up. When you find your feet, he slides his grasp down toward your ass, cupping under the shape of it in your jeans to lift you up and around him, thighs clamping tight around his hips. A hiccuped gasp punches from your chest when he slams you into the wall, detaching from your mouth to attack your neck. Your fingers bury in his hair, tugging and feathering with urgency while he sucks your skin and applies pressure with his teeth.

“Take me out, angel,” Steve mumbles into your neck. “M’ all yours”

You reach down between your bodies and tug on the loose string of his shorts. When they’re loose enough, and you will yourself through the incoherency that Steve’s mouthing and sucking renders you under, you reach in and wrap your hand around his hardening cock. He groans at your delicate, warm touch, and you gasp when he slides out of his shorts and hangs over the band.

“Fuck, get these fuckin’ jeans off.”

He makes quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans, setting you down long enough to struggle with their removal. You’d laugh at his menacing scowl toward your jeans if you weren’t too busy staring at his throbbing cock, weeping excitement, dribbling from the tip. You whimper wantonly and Steve’s eyes snap up, finding encouragement in your needy noises. He snatches your jeans the rest of the way off and tosses them aside, plucking you back up like you’re nothing but air to press you back into the wall.

Your grip on his hair returns and tightens instantaneously when the weight of his cock presses into your cotton-clothed heat. It pulses with need and thankfully, Steve doesn’t let you wait long—he pushes your panties aside and sheathes into you in one deep plunge, pulling a low, mewling whine from your throat.

“Oh, there we go, atta girl. Look at me, look at me, yeah,” Steve mumbles, swiping your hair out of your eyes with a heavy palm, using the heel of it to lift your chin.

You’re starry-eyed already, lips parted to pant gasps that make his cheeks flush. You look so pretty when you’re all dumb for him. Steve gives a tentative thrust, and his lip quirks when you squeak.

“You know I’m yours, baby. M’ all yours,” he breathes.

“Mine,” you parrot quietly, mindlessly.

Your foreheads come together, his strong arms holding you up, cradling you, pulling you into him. His hair, soft between your fingers, sticky with hairspray from the makeup artist. You’ve nearly forgotten about the lipstick prints all over his skin, because the way he’s looking at you now makes you think you’re the only girl in the world. To him, you are.

Steve picks up speed, setting a rhythmic pace of push and pull. The bulbous head of his cock brushes your walls, squeezing and molding around him, gushing slick and staining his satin shorts. The insides of your thighs feel sticky and they’re starting to shake around his waist. Steve goes even faster and your face screws up, mouth hanging open in a silent cry. Every pump inside you sends you a little further up the wall, bumping and sliding. The crew and assistants are still packing up on the other side of the door, and it’s for this reason only that Steve clamps his hand over your mouth when you begin to whine.

“Shut up,” he snaps through his teeth, glowering down at you over that slanted nose. “Shut up. You wanted this, now you’re gonna fuckin’ take it.”

Every nerve in your body buzzes at his growling tone, his intimidating stare—the domination. Steve was always boss, and you loved every minute of it. Even though right now he was being cruel by punishing you to silence while hammering into you so hard that you felt your insides rearrange, you couldn’t help but feel like you were on fire.

“Feel that? Feel that cock in your guts, sweetheart? Huh?” Steve chases after your eyes again when they roll to the back of your head, head banging back into the wall as you grow delirious.

“It’s all yours, baby. You’re stuck with it, cause I’m not goin’ anywhere. So fuckin’ take it.”

Steve’s hands are incapable of fully silencing you, and your high-pitched squeals and cries filter through his fingers over your mouth. Yet you can’t bring yourself to care about much other than his cock driving into you at a furious speed. He worsens your conditions by pulling your hand away from his hair to guide it between your thighs. Like a puppet, he manipulates your fingers to press two together and swipe them along your slick, rubbing the pads of them against your swollen clit. Your cries sharpen and Steve’s eyes narrow.

“I said shut up. Y’ wanna cum? Huh?”

You nod pitifully, legs slackening around his waist while they turn to jello. Steve rubs your fingers faster over your clit while pistoling his hips.

“Then shut your mouth.”

You whine, but Steve takes pity on you and ignores it. You know if you were back home, and had ignored a direct command, Steve would’ve pulled out and left you aching until you begged on your knees for forgiveness. But right now, Steve was needy, and you were desperate; and he wanted to show you just how much you belong to him, and how much he belongs to you.

Steve presses your heads together again, huffing gusts of breath against his hand over your mouth. His face was starting to redden from the exertion.

“You gonna cum? Hmm?”

You nod again, nails biting into his biceps. Steve nods back, eyes screwing shut.

“M-me, too—fuck, baby. Fuck, you feel so good. C’mon, honey, c’mon.”

You spasm, feeling out of control of your own body as you contract and flutter around Steve’s thick cock. Warmth floods you as Steve groans—a low, gravely groan that rumbles through you and elicits goosebumps. When you were done spasming, you collapse—legs sliding off his hips, slumping against the wall, losing all feeling in every one of your bones.

“Jesus,” Steve chuckles, scooping you up, still lodged inside you, and carrying you toward the sofa.

He sinks down with you, allowing you to straddle him and rest against his chest. Cheek flush against his pec, you raise a shaky hand to pet at his chest hair absentmindedly, still catching your breath. Steve practically melts into the couch, head tipped back against the cushion while he runs his fingers down the back of your head.

“Were you really that jealous?” Steve snickers, and your cheeks warm again.

“Maybe…”

Steve tips his head down and kisses your hairline.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me. You’re the only one that’ll put up with my crazy.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s true.”

Steve pinches your thigh and you yelp, jerking in his lap to sit up and smile at him. You smear the lipstick on his cheek and smudge the shape of the model’s lips. Leaning forward, you press your mouth to the warm apple of his cheek—a firm kiss. You swear you feel him flush. He pulls you away gently by the back of your neck and nicks your chin with his knuckles.

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces after they heard all that screaming.”

♡ ♡

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neonbitemarks · 2 years ago

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Lex x Ryland - Archived Thread

“Judas’s on a warpath, Scout’s stirrin’ drama with Dainn, Leora and Roman are bein’ all weird again, and Genesis just showed up. Way I’m seein’ it, we should probably take a small campin’ trip before we get dragged into the not so fun chaos.”

“Uh-oh, what’d I miss, or is Mercury in gatorade again? Either way, you know I’m never gonna say no to a little roadtrip just me and you. Besides, we still got some makin’ up to do from me being away from here for a bit, and it’s the perfect time of year for sleepin’ under the stars.”

“Not that he needs a reason, honestly, but I think him and Leora got into it and your sister fights dirty. Remind me not to piss that one off because I was not expectin’ her to go that low.” It had been impressive and more than a little terrifying and he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that girl’s ire. “It really is. Figured we can head up north, look for a lake to camp out by and ignore the rest of the world for a couple of days.”

“Okay, spill. I need all the gory details,” Lex laughed, knowing pretty well what Leora was capable of, but he always enjoyed hearing all the gossip when he hadn’t been there to personally witness what went down.

“I hear Montana’s pretty all year round, but especially in the summer. I mean, they do call it Big Sky Country, right? I’m sure we can find a spot to camp where there aren’t any rednecks within spittin’ distance who might object to us being there.”

“I don’t know all the details, but I did hear her callin’ him a ”bottom feeding, low life coke head with a shrimp dick.“ and throwing in his face that Chayton was the only one that actually liked his sorry ass. I don’t want to know what for shit she would say about me if I was on her bad side.” And he had no intentions of finding out if he could help it.

“Montana? Yeah, I think we can manage that. Lay out under the stars like we used to on the good nights. Just us, the sky, and a campfire. Can’t think of nothin’ better.”

“God damn, right for the jugular, huh,” Lex whistled, grinning broadly as he tried to picture the look on Jude’s face when Leora called him that, Lex figuring there would have been the smallest moment of shocked offense before Judas got angry and said something stupid in retaliation.

“Kinda feels like it’s been a long time since we last did that. Gotta admit I’ve been missing life on the open road, to be honest. Not that I don’t love having a real roof over my head, but there’s not a whole lot to do or see in a ghost town in the middle of the desert.”

“Like I said, remind me not to piss that one off.” He was honestly surprised the argument between Leora and Judas hadn’t come to blows, but he would have easily put his money on Leora. He had a feeling she fought dirty no matter what kind of fight she was in.

“I don’t think we’ve gone camping, really camping, since we got here. Never thought I’d miss sleeping in the back of the truck as much I do,” he admitted, but it had been his home since he was nineteen. “Pretty sure I still have most of the on the road gear together so packing everything up shouldn’t take long?”

“Yeah, things have been kinda busy, haven’t they?”

Between everything that had happened in staying off the radar of Ryland’s family and Lex finding out he not only had a bunch of family he didn’t even know about, but that he wasn’t nearly as human as he was raised to believe, it had been difficult to make plans to go traveling anywhere for a while.

“How long do you wanna go for?”

“Just a little bit.”

It had been challenging, uprooting his entire existence and learning to adjust to being around the kind of people he had been trained to, well, murder since he had been a child, but he was doing his best. Lex was one thing, the others, well, he was still trying to figure all of that out.

“I was thinking at least a three-day weekend, maybe a little longer if the weather holds up. Unless you have something else in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ more along the lines of a week? Maybe more?” Lex answered, figuring that they might as well make the most of it if they were going to drive all the way out to Montana, since, depending on where in Montana they ended up, it was a minimum of a thirteen hour drive straight through just to get across state lines.

“I mean, we could even stop off at Yellowstone on the way there? Break up the drive time a little with some sight seeing?”

“We’re definitely going to need to bring the trailer if we’re going to be out that long so we can bring extra gas for the truck and firewood. Your mom said we were free to use that any time we wanted to, might as well take advantage of it and not need to see any other people on our trip,” he suggested, wanting to have Lex completely to himself for as much of the time as they could manage.

“We’ll be timing it for the Perseid’s meteor shower too. Can’t think of a better time to be camping out.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Lex agreed, more than happy to make the trip more of a proper road trip vacation than just a weekend campout.

It wasn’t just the sleeping out under the stars and the scenery aspect that Lex was looking forward to. Getting some time alone with Ryland without any interruptions, and a proper chance to catch up on other things also drove the appeal of staying out a while longer.

“Just you and me, the open road and hopefully nobody else around for miles.”

Ryland wrapped an arm around Lex’s waist and pulled him close, stealing a soft, slow kiss. The solace of their bedroom was fine, soundproofed even, but it didn’t beat the solitude that being on the road gave them, ensconced in the cab of the truck while the rest of the world passed from the window.

“I did get a new mattress for the back of the truck. No more waiting for the air one to fill up. And it’s more comfortable.” He had bought it while Lex had been away and his bet had clearly paid off.

Lex hummed against Ry’s lips, melting into the kiss with a sigh.

Oh how he’d missed this while he’d been away, and being reminded just how much made him ache all the more for the attention and affection as he dove his fingers into Ryland’s hair on the back of his head.

“Oh? Well then I guess we’re definitely going to have to give that a good breakin’ in, aren’t we?” he purred with a teasing smirk.

The feeling of Lex’s fingers in his hair was enough to pull a soft groan from Ryland’s lips as he pressed against him more firmly. He hated when Lex was away, but he understood why he had to go. There were just some things that he was better off learning from his family and fae could always teach fae better than anything else could.

“Guess it’s a good thing we’re going campin’ then, ain’t it? Really add onto the plan to make it memorable.”

“Mm, can’t wait…”

That wasn’t an understatement. The more Lex thought about the idea, the sooner he wanted to make it a reality, and he was more than willing to pack up and go that same day if necessary.

“When are we goin’?” he asked, stealing another kiss. “Because I don’t know how long my self control is gonna hold out ‘til I can get you all to myself with no interruptions.”

Ry understoond the imatience because he felt it too. The need to be back on the road, even if just for a week or so, was definitely something he hadn’t been able to shake. Hell, if he had it his way, if it were safe, he’d probably still live out of his truck.

“I’d say how quick do you think we can pack but I know the answer to that. How soon do you think you’re mom’ll be fine about you dipping again since you, ya know, sort of just got back?”

“Honestly, so long as I stick around long enough for dinner tonight, it probably wouldn’t take much more than talkin’ all too casually about making up for lost time for her to be wavin’ me out the door again,” Lex grinned, figuring the last anyone wanted to hear about was how badly he wanted to get his back blown out by his boyfriend.

“I mean, if Leora can gross people out like that, gotta be worth a shot, right?”

“Well that just sounds like a very awkward family dinner,” he laughed, not at all surprised by Lex’s plan. “It’ll probably work though. I mean, everyone tries to push Leora out of the entire bar when she starts. Not that I blame them. I swear she has two modes and they’re both terrifying.”

“So, we can get everything packed before dinner and then take off after if your plan works?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lex nodded, grinning broadly at the plan.

He wouldn’t go too overboard with grossing everyone out, since he was confident he could just speak directly to Cord anyway and avoid getting too far into that kind of conversation anyway.

“If we head straight up into Idaho and over, we can probably find a nice spot along Snake River to camp tonight, then go on the Yellowstone from there.”

“Okay, was this my idea or yours because that makes it sound like you’ve been wantin’ to bring up hittin’ the road for a bit now too,” he teased, more than happy to follow through with Lex’s suggestion. It would definitely make for a good run and let them get in as much as possible.

“I’ll check in with Del and Peri to make sure there’s no hunters in the areas we’re hittin’. Don’t want to run into any complications.”

It was still weird to be so far out of the network that he actually had to call someone else for intel, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah, I kinda have. Guess it’s ‘cause I missed you so much while I was away and I just want you all to myself again for a bit to make up for it,” Lex admitted, not even remotely hesitant at confessing that he’d been itching for a road trip for at least a couple of months.

“Hopefully there’ll be nobody even the next states over so we’ll be clear of any unexpected issues.”

Sure, Lex knew that it was still risky heading out away from the bar, but staying put in one place for too long always seemed to make him go a little stir-crazy after too long.

“Sounds like we cope with being parted the same way,” he mused, tracing a finger along the edge of Lex’s jaw just to have an excuse to touch him more. “You know all you ever have to do is ask. The odds of me ever saying no to you are slim to none.”

Lex was the center of Ryland’s universe and he would do and give anything just to make him smile for even a second. If he wanted to slip off into the night like they used to, who was he to say no?

“I’ll call Peri and Del on the road and see if there’s anyone between us and our stops so we can make changes if we need to. Promise.”

“Well I’m asking right now,” Lex purred teasingly with a smirk, chasing the physical affection and nuzzling into Ryland’s hand like a cat demanding scritches.

In response, Lex danced his own fingertips lightly over the back of Ry’s neck, tracing little circles there.

“Fingers crossed we’re all clear…”

“Pretty sure I asked first this time,” he countered, a chuckle chasing the words before he was kissing Lex again.

That small, gentle touch was enough to make Ryland shiver and he considered, for a moment, asking to skip dinner entirely just to have an excuse to fall into bed for a few hours. But he knew it would be much better with the kind of privacy that came with how they did camping.

“I don’t know of any issues between here and our destination, so it should be fine.”

The kiss had Lex feeling all the more impatient, and he was sure that Ryland felt the same after them having been apart for so long, so Lex was also considering how much he’d love to skip dinner to get Ry alone and have him all to himself in every way possible.

“I hope it stays that way,” he murmured softly, a little seriousness drifting into his tone at acknowledging how quickly things had gone from bad to worse the last time they hit trouble, but at least they could both be safe in the knowledge that Atticus wouldn’t be a problem for them or anyone else ever again.

#lex:thread #lex:ryland:001

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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago

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Children of all ages are fascinated by buses, and it’s easy to see why. Municipal public transit is a glorious, enabling presence in their lives, a signifier that freedom from the parental yoke of asking for rides to the mall is possible. Even today, when the mall no longer exists (buses still stop at an empty field for fifteen seconds, out of respect,) kids will find their first taste of the rest of their lives thanks to a friendly transit operator.

They could also be interested in them because buses are a big, heavy, visually-distinctive vehicle that makes vroom-vroom sounds. This interpretation is also perfectly valid. Many fully-grown adults, like myself, are thrilled at the opportunity to discover a new kind of niche single-purpose vehicle, even moreso if it is possible to buy million-mile examples from a nearby farmer’s yard. That’s what I did last weekend: buy a fuckin’ bus.

You see, in my city, they had a little bit too much coke in the 80s. Transit was going to be reinvented, not by offering predictable schedules, more frequent bussing, or even routes that were designed by people who had ever actually rode a bus. No, they were going to Knight Rider up a bitch, and buy some super-advanced, prototype front-wheel-drive bus that looked like a Ford Aerostar made love to a Star Trek shuttlecraft. Naturally, because the strength of any bus fleet is being able to have parts on hand, this didn’t really work out. Those rare little buses ended up being decommissioned, where they ended up at the aforementioned farmer’s shit-spattered irrigation field between two Darts and about sixty percent of a Ramcharger.

For me, not being able to find parts from an automaker that no longer exists is not really a problem. Virtually all of the vehicles I’ve ever owned have come from brands that had long ago gone bankrupt, remembered only in half-correct Craigslist posts by delusional idiots who found one in a barn and were convinced that rare means expensive. When you can’t find parts, you have to make parts, and that’s what I did, thanks to a neighbour who wasn’t paying especially close attention to his brand new F-150.

Now, I can give rides to sixteen of my flunky friends, even if it is only from one end of the drag strip to the other end. Admittedly, I don’t let them go for the really important passes, because of all that extra weight, but public transit isn’t about giving people what they want. It’s about looking cool for children and giving wiki editors something to do.

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 3 years ago

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a discussion of jabberwock with team interaction hcs + deeper nash analysis

for anon who asked "Can we get some headcanons for jabberwock members or like headcanons when they're together? (its okay if it was jason or nash only)" and made me realise it's about time i get these guys' personalities down

note before we start: cause i didn't know their names until i wrote this

zack is the bald one, allen is the one with a headband, nick is the other white guy apart from nash.

team hcs

nick gets bullied for being under 6ft, but not by jason

nah good old jason teases all of them for being short fucks, emphasising that they’re all 5ft tall in comparison to him

he 100% lifts things out of the others' reach and then laughs for ages after when they try get them

unfortunately though, they’re all used to this and now just ignore him. either that or nash stares at him so intensely jason actually repents and hands it back

zack’s another one with a very good glare, but he’s used it too often on jason and it’s since stopped working.

also jason gives me ‘straightens his back as much as possible when getting measured so he’ll measure in as 7ft’ vibes

oh and he thinks he could wrestle a gator and win. i’ve got no explanation for that except for the fact you can't tell me it's ooc.

allen’s very protective over his white headband - it’s his lucky item - but he’d never let anyone know that

he’s confident in his abilities like the rest of them, but there’s nothing wrong with wearing a headband just in case

(nash knows anyway)

they watch nba matches together and do not shut up once throughout the entire match - lots of jeering, booing each other if someone criticises a player they like, lots of “i could do that”, lots of “get your fucking hand out of my popcorn do you want me to punch you in the face” etc

they used to all live together, but nash has since moved out. he was sick and tired of trying to make people do chores, as the only one who kept their room clean.

yeah the others’ house looks like a heap of trash but also very much “where’s my toothbrush?” “it’s in the third coke can by the orange peel behind the sink” *silence* “yeah thanks” *a minute later* “who the fuck has been using my toothbrush”

they’re all “bro your dribbling sucks why are you on this team loser” to one another, but also very protective (aka arrogant for one another) if anyone else Dared to criticise one of their teammates

then again, what kind of person would criticise jabberwock

half of the time he spends with jabberwock, nash is a Single Mother TM trying to get a bunch of man children to behave; the other half of the time, he's just as bad as the rest of them

i talk about this a lot but i get the feeling nash is an exceptionally hard worker, but at least he gets to let his hair down around his teammates sometimes

nash is also the only person jason thought was truly ‘strong’ at first sight

and nash is also the only person who can beat jason in a fight, and also the only person who can get nash to train, and also the only person who can.. [etc. you see my point].

(n.b jason calls himself the ‘almighty me’, nash says that ‘even god can’t beat me’. point made.)

you know how jason silver’s motto is “I have never thought”

imagine him proudly stating that, before zack adds with a straight face, “yeah cause nash does it for you.”

in short, the team would fall apart without nash.

although the team’s communication and coordination is very fine tuned, nash is the guy who keeps everything in order off the court to prevent what is essentially a team of aces ('main characters', if you will) from falling apart

they hang out together a lot, but do all have other friend groups that do not overlap

team bbqs

unofficial rule not to criticise anchovies on pizza because the one time nick did, nash snapped

however pineapple on pizza is fair game, even though zack quite likes it

more than once, jason has brought a girl home and nick has stolen her attention away with effortless trick shots, funky ball manoeuvring etc

more than once nick has had to trek to nash’s place (with a black eye) at midnight to have somewhere to sleep

do you see a correlation?

oh and everyone in the team has been walked in on by nash when they were naked with some girl

nash has absolutely no shame

he apologises to the girl with a charming albeit insincere tone, and then remains standing in front of the bed/couch until his teammate does what he expected of them

usually it involves not having come to practice

allen learnt a few (emphasis on ‘few’) words of japanese before they travelled to japan and was disappointed that he never got to use them

that said, one of those words was hentai

and now a quick analysis of some panels

a) so there's at least one player who wasn't underestimating vorpal swords. if i were to overanalyse, i'd add that nick's wearing a hoodie (possibly athletic wear) whilst nash has a 'fancy' shirt on; perhaps nick wasn't expecting them to be going to host clubs instead of chilling/training?

b) i know what you're thinking: "how can you say nash is a hard worker when he didn't want to practice for the match". i reckon he was still pretty high on the complete and utter success of their previous match, that plus being around girls, encouraged him to have a more 'jason-y' personality. (either that or fujimaki didn't want to add too much depth/realism into nash's character bc he's unequivocally the villain, right? and obviously this helps with the plot and the jabberwock bad geniuses gom good geniuses rhetoric.)

earlier, i mentioned how nash is the only one that could keep the team together, and is thus the undeniable head of the team; here's a clear example. you can see both jason and zack have no interest in continuing - if anything, there's disgust in their faces, kinda just saying "we spat on all of japan, now we can go home". whereas nash won't allow for the slightest of possibilities that there might exist a team stronger than them, and hence agrees to the match. the key thing here is that the others do as he says without too much fuss.

another thing to note is nash's reference to harakiri. now what can we make of that, alongside his proficiency in japanese, in relation to his character? the way i see it, he's either a weeb or possibly has some japanese lineage. (you could spin that even further and say his mother was japanese, taught him the language, then abandoned him, and hence his almost excessive hatred/mockery of the japanese people.) (is that why he wanted to do another match in japan..?)

just a quick point. "thanks to him" - jason isn't so superior as to think that he could win this match effortlessly without nash's support. links pretty nicely with my earlier idea about how nash is the only person jason has always considered 100% strong.

yet another point about how nash is the strongest of the team in pretty much every way you can think of. you know how scary/powerful you have to be to shut jason up (after he's getting real pissed from being prevented from scoring?)

i personally think this is a pretty important panel, though i've never seen anyone mention it before. did nash grow up training in a professional basketball training situation, as opposed to growing up playing streetball like i suspect the others did? well, to answer that question, imma bring in another panel.

here we see visible rage on nick, zack and jason's faces - they can't accept their loss, which is fair enough. but i'd argue that nash's face seems to depict sadness more than it does anger like to rest of them, look at how downturned his mouth is - and he's looking away from the 'camera', as if hiding his shame.

when you combine that with what he says here, i have no doubt that this is someone who has experienced some proper lows in basketball - as would be expected from someone who's played 'properly'. he's possibly not even a prodigy like the rest of them - compare jason's motto with his. "i have never thought" versus "do not suppose opportunity will knock twice at your door".

there's various lines of thinking you could design with this - he might have been trained by alex (hence, himuro having heard of jabberwock, though he should have known of a team as popular of jabberwock regardless), he might have grown up with professional basketballer parents etc. but here's my own little theory:

nash received serious basketball training from early on - maybe because his parents were living vicariously through him, or maybe he always loved the sport and wanted to be no1. so there he was training away, but, as he grew older, it started getting all a bit too much.

he didn't want to dedicate his entire life to basketball. after all, his hobby is water sports and his speciality is boxing; that's a lot of different things to be keeping up with, whereas the pipeline for promising athletes demands people focus solely on basketball. as a result, nash become bitter: stopped attending practice regularly, got in trouble for trash talk of increasing severity, etc.

result was he was kicked out of the program.

only when he was no longer playing basketball again, did he realise how much he missed it. and hence he got into streetball, where he was tremendously successful as someone with so much training, 'elite skills', and the overly confident attitude to boot.

then, one fateful day, he met jason and the rest is history.

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lexwritess · 4 years ago

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incorrect quotes anon, i have a super angsty idea that i think you’ll LOVE. so basically michael x reader but she died at on of the outpost, and were basically the only good part about michael and him not caring about anything anymore (even more than usual lmao). and it’s just grief and sadness and anger. it’s fine if not, if you do i’d love to make incorrect quote for it also! have a great day/night!!!! ❤️❤️

broken promises [m.l.]

pairing: michael langdon x fem!reader

warnings: angst, death, swearing, blood, i don’t think this is accurate i tried to research on lilith but it was difficult but i liked the idea so this version of lilith is mostly based off the one from caos

a/n: i got a little carried away lmao

words: 1.6k

slightly au! i’m going to pretend michael can’t bring dead people back ✌️

y/n is a witch. but she’s a different kind of witch. she was born for a very specific purpose, one that she didn’t even understand yet. she knew she was different though.

she really knew she was different when her supreme, cordilia, tried to kill her.

she ran away from her sisters that night. she didn’t need cordilia to kill her. she already felt dead. defeated. the only real family she’s had wanted her dead.

that’s when she met michael.

michael despised all witches, but there was something about y/n that dragged him to her. the two of them were like magnets and they both felt it. the world always pulling them towards each other.

she met michael when he was at a loss. y/n wasn’t the only one cordilia hurt that day.

y/n found michael in the woods, he looked ill and lost.

y/n brought him to a dark church she saw a couple days prior. they found a woman there that was eager to help them back on their feet and get them well and nourished.

that was a big step for michael. after that visit michael finally got sense of himself. unfortunately, y/n still didn’t understand her purpose.

“i want to help michael, i really do but i don’t know what i’m suppose to do. you’re the antichrist! i’m just a rejected witch.” y/n tells michael gloomily.

tomorrow was a big day for him, he was getting back his ms. mead. of course y/n was happy for him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t need her anymore.

“you are so much more than that. you are more powerful than you think and you are a big help to me. and even if you don’t serve a purpose for the apocalypse i care about you and want you by my side.” michael looks into your eyes and grabs your hands.

that’s where y/n and michael shared their first kiss.

“can you help him or not.” you interrupt the two idiotic coke heads.

“oh. who’s this?” mutt said cockily.

“she’s a witch on my side. her coven tried to kill her. don’t get any ideas though she’s mine.” michael said protectively.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

“alright, sorry. please don’t light me on fire.” mutt says defensively.

this is the second time michaels been here. this time he decided to bring you along so maybe you could get an idea what to do next if jeff and mutt didn’t.

“do you have some special marking on you, or have demonic fire powers?” jeff asks you while mutt looks for something to help michael.

y/n shows him the upside down triangle that appeared on her wrist about a month ago.

“not going to lie, that’s kinda lame.” jeff says disappointed.

y/n gives the man a glare and with the wave of her hand the glass bowl of cocaine was now broken across the floor.

“WHAT THE FU-.” jeff yelled before mutt stepped in.

“we can worry about it later. look at the book of revelations. have you read it?” mutt asks.

michael looks at them before opening the book with his magic.

y/n flips through the book when michael is done looking for anything else.

“who is lilith?” y/n ask monotone.

“lilith is technically a witch. she was the wife of adam but refused to sleep with him. eventually she went and sided with the devil. the devil turned on her. lots of variations and stories of her. no ones quite totally sure.” jeff explains.

y/n looks at michael with a skeptical look on her face and he gives one back.

“holy shit, you’re totally lilith! but for the new world!” mutt exclaims.

y/n stands up and look down upon the two.

“how would you know?” y/n raised her eyebrows at them.

“you’re coven tried to kill you, you just so happen to be with the antichrist, the triangle on your arm...makes sense.” jeff says.

y/n stays still staring at them. they gulp under her gaze before she walks out of the room.

michael hurries after the girl, needing to know what’s on her mind.

“y/n, what is the matter dear?” michael asks, linking his pinky with hers.

“i do not want to be lilith.” y/n says strongly.

“if being lilith means i will lose you in the end i don’t want it!” she lets go of michaels pinky and storms off to the car.

“darling you will never lose me! i may have to follow my fathers plans to end this world, but i’m still in charge!” michael yells to y/n.

“promise me!” y/n yells back, finally walking towards micheal.

“promise me.” y/n repeats, this time her tone barley above a whisper.

“i promise.”

2 years later

present time

the apocalypse is here. the world is gone. hell is on earth.

and you’ve been by michaels side the whole time.

he kept his promise

and now you were standing in front of your ex-coven.

they were back to kill you, again.

“come back to finish the job?” you bitterly ask cordilia.

“i had no choice! you were made for evil, i was never going to be able to peel you away from him and you would always choose him over your sisters!” cordilia yells.

“well michael never tried to kill me like you did! you were the only family i had!” you yell back, tears brimming your eyes.

you furrow your brows trying to hear what cordilia was mumbling but before you realized it’s too late.

“ms mead!” michael cried.

cordilia had killed his ms mead again.

“fuck you!” you say angerly stepping closer to cordilia.

as you walk closer cordilia is pushed back by your magic, a trail of fire leading behind you.

“how are you doing that?” madison asks in shock.

“because i’m the new supreme.” you smirk.

cordilia laughs bitterly and you look back at her.

“you can never be the supreme. you are a demoness! you are and never will be a real witch!” cordilias words burn in your brain as the realization hits you.

“mallory.” you whisper to yourself.

“precisely.” cordilia smiles.

while michael was having his last moments with ms mead, in the corner of your eye you saw madison grab the machine gun and go to point it at michael.

“repellendum malum minitar, ut nobis!” you quickly shout the protection spell.

you repeat the spell and step closer to michael.

“tutela eorum vinculum!” cordilia starts chanting against your spell.

you repeat the spell but as she gets closer the sheild starts breaking.

“et defendat mea!” you shout louder. the shield starts breaking as the other witches join in on cordilias chants.

“amans vitae meae praesidium.” you say quietly before the shield breaks.

bullets shoot throughout the room before your bloody body slumps against the wall. you feel awful, they shot you enough to make you weak so you can’t heal, but strong enough to let you bleed out.

“y/n?” michael says quietly, before he is shot as well.

myrtle cuts a piece of michaels hair and walks back to mallory.

“hurry mallory, before he heals.” cordilia rushes, and the witches leave the room.

michael wakes and looks over to see y/n’s bloody body.

“y/n! no, no, no!” michael lifts you up so he can hold you.

“michael you have to listen to me.” you cough, as the metallic taste fills your mouth.

“i can save you, i know father can. just stay with me a little longer.” michael pleads.

you smile at him and shake your head.

“listen, don’t kill cordilia. i’m not the supreme it’s mallory. she will go back and kill you in a past timeline, so none of this will never happen.”

“i have to! look what they did to you!” tears fall from his face.

“michael baby, i’ll be okay. i’ll be okay, but you got to make sure you don’t kill cordilia. it’ll bring mallory’s powers to full strength.” you assure him.

michael shakes his head as more tears fall from his crystal blue eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much. i’ll be with you soon.” michael squeezes your hand.

“i love you too michael, so much.” you let out a shaky sigh and squeeze his hand back.

“goodbye michael.” you smile as your eyes start to close.

“no, don’t say goodbye! baby please open your eyes again.” michael weeps.

“fuck! i wasn’t suppose to lose you. i wasn’t suppose to leave you, i fucking promised!” michael screams, while his sobs continue.

“it’s too late langdon.” cordilias chill voice fills michaels ears.

michaels sadness quickly turns to anger as he turns around to see the bitches smug face.

“you killed the love of my life!” michael shrieks.

cordilia hums and stares back at michael before waving the knife out of his hand into hers.

before michael can do or say anything cordilia rams the knife into her chest.

michael is at a loss for words.

he have lost

“no!” he screamed as cordilia fell to her death.

“no.” he repeated while falling to his knees.

he puts his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

he has lost everyone and now he lost the war.

he lost everything because of a job he never asked to have.

“poor michael.” myrtal said quietly while walking over to him.

“please! please just kill me.” michael says defeated.

“you’re the antichrist at his full form. i’m afraid killing you is impossible. you’ll have to live knowing you’ll never have her again.” myrtal says while waking away.

michaels cries continue.

he’ll never see you again.

you’ll never see him again.

in the new timeline he doesn’t exist to you and never will.

that’s what truly killed him.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #cody fern #cody fern x reader #micheal langdon #micheal langdon x reader #fanfic #angst #ahs angst #michael langdon smut #michael langdon angst

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dyed-red · 2 years ago

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get to know the blogger

tagged by the lovely @applecrumbledore to do a 20 questions and 20 tags game. a bit late with this reply but better than never!

About Me

Name: phyn, phynali, redhead

Sign: capricorn and it shows

Height: under 5 feet, yes it is a curse

Birthday: Jan 3

Time: this is getting weirdly specific

Favorite band/artists: i’m literally So Bad at picking favourites i honestly don’t know. uhhh Fleetwood Mac? carseat head rest? idk guys music is good go listen to lots of it

Last movie: The Gray Man

Last show: the Sandman (it was really good!)

When I created this blog: like several several years ago with the username ‘theregoestheneighbourhood’ but eventually changed it to dyed-red to match my ao3 pseud. but i only started using this blog actively in like early 2020 and at the time refused to tag anything or interact with folks haha (sorry i’m a curmudgeon)

What I post: a lot of wincest, weirdcest, and some gencest, but especially content about sam and dean. stuff i think is interesting about characterization especially

Last thing I googled: John Cena’s filmography (i was trying to remember the name of the show Peacemaker)

Other blogs: @/phynali is my main, @/coldtomyflash is the side for my former massive hyperfixation, coldflash

Do I get asks: sometimes? i really love getting asks though so please send them. i do have one unanswered one in my inbox from a million years ago about the episode ‘ask jeeves’ that i haven’t rewatched and can’t reply to properly (yet) but i TRY to answer the ones i get

Following: i’m at 144 which is way too high. for the first 8 years i spent on this site i kept it under 100 except for little blips. since joining the SPN fandom it’s it’s 1.5x what it was before and i keep itching to cull it but also don’t want to

Average hours of sleep: ~7, but i genuinely need like 9 so sometimes i crash for 11-13 hours

Instruments: i’m the least musical person i’ve ever met

What I’m wearing: jeans and a t-shirt

Dream job: my existing one with more job security and autonomy, and fewer demands and expectations. my industry needs an overhaul

Dream trip: through southeast asia

Nationality: canadian but i don’t live in canadia-land any longer

Favorite songs: we’ve been over how bad i am at this favourites thing right? right. okay go listen to Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie by Joanna Newsom

Last book I read: A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik, because i decided i should probably read astolat’s original works and holy hell did i enjoy this book, can’t wait for the third in the series (holding off on reading the second so i can read all 3 when the last one is out)

3 fiction universes I’d live in: steven universe, dctv-verse (the flash, etc), uhhh... star wars?

tagging: okay 20 people is way too many and idk who all has done this and who’s currently active, but let’s see how many i can think of... @fandom-hoarder, @brotherwives, @trials-era-sam, @catboyjohnwinchester, @theangiediary, @redmyeyes, @hi-im-dazey, @peach-coke, @jaytwo, @ruinedsam, @themegalosaurus, @youchoseeachother, @brother-in-a-g-string @prince-of-elsinore

(no pressure if this isn’t your thing, and/or if you’re the type of person who likes being tagged in stuff like this don’t hesitate to drop a note here and i’ll try to remember you for next time)

#housekeeping #about the blogger #non spn

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spunkpunx · 4 years ago

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Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #blur band #britpop #90s imagine #smut #blur #britpop imagine #alex james #alex james x reader #battle of britpop

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a-bang-for-your-bucky · 3 years ago

Text

Playin' With Fire: Out Of The Ashes

Summary: Six months after the Colombia disaster, the guys and Dani try to get back to normal lives.

Warnings: Explicit language, survivor's guilt, talks about being dead, alcohol, ANGST (with a happy ending), nightmares, Tom. Please let me know if I missed a tag.

A/N: This story is near and dear to my heart. I've been putting off posting this Epilogue because I don't want it to officially be over. I hope you guys have enjoyed it as much as I have.

They had been home for six whole months. Dani and Santiago had moved into a house they bought together, trying to move on with their lives after the whole Colombia disaster. Dani could still hear Molly’s screams as they told her Tom wouldn’t be coming home. She could still see the life drain from his daughter’s face as Santiago apologized for everything.

Dani felt like she was going through the motions, living like a ghost in a life that no longer existed. She had to be strong though, for her boys, for Santi. They all came back more fucked up, more broken. She hadn’t even returned to the hospital, despite multiple calls from Meredith.

Will had gone back to giving his speeches, like nothing happened. He was the strongest of them all, Dani had noticed. Benny never left the gym, constantly training. When he did come home, he’d take a bottle of whatever liquor was available and hold himself up in his room until it was time to go back to the gym.

Frankie seemed more adjusted, which was surprising to her, but having Elena really helped. He spent all his time with her, he never gave the coke a second thought. As her god-parents, Dani and Santi had their spare bedroom set up for her. Dani would keep her while Frankie worked. Spending time with her was the only time Dani felt any sliver of happiness, the only time she really felt anything.

It was another night where Dani was sitting in the rocker in Ellie’s room, gently moving back and forth to soothe her to sleep. Just as she closed her chocolate brown eyes, Dani heard the front door open. She knew it was either Santi or Frankie.

“Bebita?” Frankie whispered. She let out a quiet “shhh” as she got up to place Ellie in her bed. “She’s asleep?” Dani could hear the disappointment in his voice. She tucked her in and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry, she just went down.” She apologized, as they walked back into the living room. Frankie sighed, and took a seat on the couch.

“I can’t thank you enough, Tequila.” Frankie yawned, stretching out his arms.

“You don’t have to thank me, Fish. I love that little booger.” She explained, as she took the seat next to him. He looked over at Dani with a soft smile on his face.

“Still, I owe you a lot. I have the next week off, something about chopper maintenance.” Frankie started, “why don’t we have a barbeque, like old times?” he offers. How could she say no to him? How could she turn down getting the gang back together?

Dani nodded, “That’d be nice. I’ll let Santi know, he should be home soon.” Just as she finished, Santiago opened the front door. Dani looked up but didn’t acknowledge him when he said hey. She stood up, turning back to Frankie, “Feel free to crash here, since she’s already asleep. I’m gonna go to bed.” She left the room without a single word to Santiago.

Frankie noticed the interaction immediately. “Everything okay?” He asked Santiago, as he took Dani’s place next to Frankie. Santi sighed, running his hands down his face.

“I don’t know, man. We were so happy, we bought the house, we talked about starting a family of our own. Lately though, she’s been pulling away, like she can’t stand to be around me.” Santiago sniffled. He knew that there would be repercussions to the heist. He knew that, but he thought they were strong enough to make it.

Frankie rubbed his friend's shoulder, trying to give him some form of support. “She’s probably just working through some things. Just be there for her.” Frankie advised Santiago. “Maybe we need a break. We came back and just dove back into life. A cookout, next week? I’ll provide all the food if we can have it here.” Frankie gave him a shit-eating grin. Santiago let out a sigh before nodding. Hopefully Frankie was right.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Frankie and Dani were in her kitchen preparing a feast to feed four grown men, her, and a baby. Santiago had gone out to the store to get more beer, while Will and Benny were in the backyard getting wood for a bonfire later.

It all seemed so trivial to her. Having a cookout, even though Tom was dead, even though she should be buried alongside him. What was the point to any of this?

“Tequila?” Frankie called her nickname. She “hmm’d” in response as she continued to chop vegetables. "Are you okay?” There was concern in his voice.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” She countered, not looking up from the cutting board.

“Well if you Julienne those carrots anymore, it's going to be considered baby food.” He huffed a laugh. Dani dropped the knife, and it clattered to the counter top.

“I’m sorry, Fish. I just have a lot on my mind.” She signed, bringing her hands up to rub her temples. Frankie walked around her island to wrap his arms around her.

“You know I’m always here for you. That’s what best friends are for.” He reminded her with a kiss to the hair line. Before she could say anything else, the baby monitor erupted to life with cries from Ellie.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. Frankie cooked, Will and Ben made the bonfire, and Santi had come back with ingredients for s’mores. The sun had long since set, and moonlight shone across their back yard. Everyone was saying their goodbyes, and Santi snuck upstairs.

Frankie helped Dani clean up then he and Ellie said their own goodbyes. Dani marched upstairs, ready to yell at Santiago for skipping out on the clean up. She opened the door to their shared room, to find flower petals scattered across the floor. Santiago was by their window, illuminated by candle light, down on one knee.

Dani was speechless. This was the last thing she was expecting. Santi beckoned her over to where he was knelt. “Danika Kate Reid, you are the most beautiful, caring, fearless, woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, of loving. You make me happier than I have ever been, and I know that you are it for me. Will you marry me?” Santiago proposed, pouring his heart out to her.

“I can’t.” The words flew out of Dani’s mouth before she realized she said them. That didn’t make them any less true.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Santi yelled, as he stood from his kneeling position.

“I can’t love you like you love me. I’m not-” She screamed through her sobs, “I’m not worth it, Santi. I am too damaged, too fucked up. I can’t love you like you deserve.” She was broken, fucked up, damaged beyond repair. That didn’t stop Santiago from falling for her. It didn’t stop him from trying to repair the broken pieces.

Santiago moved toward her, hands coming up to wipe away the tears. “You are not broken. You are perfect. You’ve been through hell sweetheart, so have I. You think loving me is a walk in the park?” He looked into her eyes, “I drink too much, I can barely sleep at night. You think I don’t know that my nightmares keep you awake? I feel when you leave the bed.” The hurt in his eyes made her want to scream. The fresh tears threatening to spill made her feel like she was suffocating.

She ripped his hands from her face. “Stop. Stop.” She barked, hand grasping her chest. This was too much. “I can’t do this anymore, Santi. I can’t stay here and pretend everything is okay.” She took a few deep breaths. “I can’t pretend like I’m capable of being loved and loving as much in return.”

Santiago’s face dropped. He is sure he just felt his heart shatter into pieces. He ground his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath, nostrils flaring as he exhaled. How did he show her, prove to her that she deserved him, his love? “I won’t stop.” He whispered, looking her dead in the eyes. “I won’t ever stop loving you. You are it for me. If they aren’t you, then I don’t want them. I will love you until my dying breath, and fuck, into the afterlife.” He moved so he was close to her again. “It will always be you."

She wanted to kiss him, tell him what he wanted to hear. She couldn’t, because it wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay. After everything she has been through, after everything he had put her through, there isn’t enough of her to put back together. “It can’t be me. I am a shell of the person I used to be. I’m not her. I am not the woman you fell in love with.” She choked on her tears, “I’m not the woman who fell in love with you.” She turned away from him, picking up the packed duffle she already had by their door, slinging it over her shoulder. She spared him one last glance before walking out the door of their house and possibly out of his life.

She found herself outside of Frankie's apartment, somewhere she had been a hundred times over. Her phone rang; Santiago's name was written on the screen. She sent him to voicemail.

It was close to midnight. She knew Ellie would be sound asleep. She walked up to the door anyway. It was open before she could even knock. "Thank fucking Christ." Frankie mumbled, pulling her inside. "Pope has been blowing my phone up looking for you."

Frankie wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest. “He proposed, Frankie.” He just held her tighter. “He proposed and I said no.” She cried, letting out everything she had been holding in since the mission. She tried to stay strong, she tried to keep herself together, for Santiago, for Ben and Will, for Frankie.

Frankie walked them over to his couch, letting her go to sit her down. “Let me get you some tissues, querida.” he walked into his kitchen, grabbing the box and his phone.he shot Santiago a quick text letting him know she was safe with him. He replied instantly saying he was on his way.

He returned to her, handing her the tissues. "Thanks, Fish." She sniffled, before sobs took over again.

Frankie held her close, letting her break down. "Go ahead, Teq. Let it out. You have been so strong for us." Frankie tried to soothe her with his words.

Dani's head fell into his lap, as he played with her hair, her sobs slowing. Her breathing evened out, soft snores fell from her lips. Frankie slipped out from under her.

He watched her as she slept, peace falling over her features. A knock at his door drew his gaze away. Santiago let himself in as he always did. "Fish, thank you." He was relieved at the sight of her on the couch.

"She needs help, Pope. She's been holding this shit in, being strong for us. It's time to be strong for her." Frankie told his friend, whose eyes never left his sleeping girlfriend.

"I don't know how to help her." His voice broke, just like his heart. How could he not see that she was falling apart trying to hold everyone else together? He thought that a fucking ring could fix her shattering composure.

“Like I told you before, be there for her. Let her talk about it. We are the only people who will understand.” Santiago nodded at Frankie’s words. He could do that. “Let her sleep, I’ll clear off the guest bed, so you can move her.”

Santiago thanked his friend, scooping the love of his life up in his arms. It still blew his mind that he could hold his whole world in his hands. He carried her down Frankie’s hall, to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and she stirred awake.

“Santi?” She said sleepily. He smiled lightly at her. She sat up, realizing she wasn’t dreaming. “Santi, baby. I’m so sorry.” She started to cry, as she threw herself into him. She needed to feel him against her. He held her close as she cried, whispering reassuring words to her.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here. I won’t leave you, I never could.” He held her tighter, needing her to know he meant it. “When you are ready, you talk to me. No rush, no judgement. I want to help you the best I can.” She smiled through her tears at him, pulling back to place a kiss to his lips. Their first kiss in weeks. The raw emotion they both could feel through one simple kiss, the promise that they could survive anything as long as they were together.

Breaking the kiss, he laid her back into the bed. “Come on, princesa. Let’s get some sleep. It’s late. And I haven’t held you in weeks.” Santiago coaxed her under the blankets, holding her tightly to his body. There was no way he was letting her go. Not now, not ever.

A few weeks later, Dani found herself in their living room with Santiago, ready to talk. She was ready to get this all off of her chest, and out in the open. She knew it wouldn’t bring back Tom, but it would bring her back to Santi.

They were sitting on the couch, it was a rainy Sunday morning. She still hated the rain, but something about this day made talking to him a lot easier.

“Santi,” She started, sitting her coffee cup on the table and pausing the B-rated comedy movie they were watching on Netflix. He did the same with his cup, turning to give her his undivided attention. “I’m ready. To talk about Colombia.” He sat up straighter, taking her hands in his, nodding.

“Okay, baby. I’m here for you.” Was all he told her before giving her the room.

Dani took a deep breath, centering herself before starting. “I have nightmares. Almost every night, and they all have to do with Tom. Most of them are him telling me that I should be dead and that he should be with his family.” She paused, letting out a shaky breath. “Others I’m back on that mountain top and you don’t save me. I can’t help but feel responsible for his death. I should have warned him sooner, I should have taken a shot. I was too slow, drawing my gun. I- I- I” She released a sob. Saying all of this outloud was harder than she thought it would be, but he needed to know. Santiago needed to know what she had been living with for the last six months. He went to pull her into a hug, but she stopped him. “There’s more. I should be dead. I shouldn’t be here. I was shot, we were in a helicopter crash. Tom, he- He was shot point blank right in front of me.”

She stopped again, taking slow breaths. The tears stung her eyes, as she looked at Santi. “I- I should be dead. I should be dead.” He didn’t let her push him away this time. He pulled her tightly into his embrace, “I should be dead.” She whimpered into his chest.

Santiago shook his head violently. “No. No. NO. Baby don’t you say that. You are exactly where you are supposed to be.” He pulled her away from his chest so he could see her face. “Dani, I would save you a hundred times over, even if that meant losing Tom.” Tears rolled off his cheeks, falling onto their laps. He leaned in to kiss her, almosting sobbing into her mouth. If she thought she should be dead, he would spend every day of the rest of his life, showing her why she deserved to live.

His words were so sincere, so full of emotion. Dani knew that Santiago meant every single word. Their lips parted, and Dani wipes his tears away. “Yes.” She said, and he looked confused. “I want to marry you. Yes.” She said again, and his eyes widened. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He peppered her hair with kisses.

“Are you serious?” He asked in disbelief. Dani nodded. “I’ll be right back.” Santi jumped up, and scurried through the house. He came back as fast as he had left, with a little black box in his hand. He returned to his seat, taking her left hand in his. Opening the box, he revealed a simple princess cut diamond, set in a plain silver band. “Say it again.” He requested.

“Santiago Isaac Garcia, yes, I will marry.” She sniffled with a smile. He pulled out the ring, and slid it onto her left ring finger. “It’s a perfect fit.” She said, before caressing his face and slotting her lips against his.

The wedding came and went. It was a small ceremony. Will and Benny walked her down the aisle, and Meredith stood beside Dani as her maid of honor. Frankie, of course, was Santi’s best man, while little Ellie was their flower girl. They spent their honeymoon out in the country. Neither of them wanted to see a beach or mountain ridge. It was a week of pure bliss in the middle of nowhere Georgia.

When they returned home, Dani went back to work at the hospital, and Santi was offered a job with Will. As a retired Lieutenant, they wanted him to train newly promoted soldiers. Santi didn’t think he would be a good teacher, but with a little convincing from Dani, he accepted. Their lives were slowly falling back into place.

They settled into a routine over the next month or so. Dani had started feeling bad, getting dizzy and lightheaded. Meredith knew immediately, but Dani requested a test. Using her Chief status, Meredith got her results back quickly.

Dani sat patiently on the exam table, waiting for her boss to come back in. Meredith all but ran in, screaming “You’re pregnant!”. She hugged Dani tightly, “Do you want an Ultrasound?” She asked giddily. Dani nodded, still in disbelief that she was pregnant.

Meredith pulled in the machine, telling Dani to lie back. The gel was cold, just as she was warned. “Depending on how far along you are, I might not get a visual. But I will try.” She said as she used the wand to push the gel around. She paused once she found what she was looking for. “Look! There is your little bean.” Excitement thick in her voice.

Dani looked, and there it was on the screen. She was pregnant. She was a mom, Santi was a dad. “Oh my god. Mere, I, I have to go.” She stuttered. Meredith nodded, quickly printing the images for her to take home. Dani wiped the gel away and hopped off the bed. The two of them exchanged another hug. Dani thanked her for everything before running out.

Her first stop was a craft store to get supplies. Once she was home, she got to work. She wanted to surprise Santi. She laid the sonogram photos on the table, while she wrote on the poster board. She couldn’t wait for him to get home.

She was almost done when she heard keys jingle outside of their door. Santiago wasn’t due home for another hour. When the door opened, it revealed Frankie and Ellie. “Fish!” She yelled, startling him.

“Shit, Dani. You scared me.” Frankie said, clutching his chest. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“This is my house, Frank.” She answered, looking down at her art. Frankie’s eyes followed, seeing the words, then to the table where the images sat.

“You’re pregnant?!” He exclaimed, sitting Ellie on the floor by her toys. Dani nodded. Frankie scooped her up, hugging her tightly. “I’m so happy for you! Have you told Pope yet? No, of course not. The poster. Shit, I guess you can’t watch Ellie tonight.” Frankie was going a mile a minute.

“Fish, Fish. Breathe. I’m sorry but we can’t watch her. But I’d love it if you stayed and helped me.” She said with a smile, showing him the finished announcement.

6PM on the dot, Santiago strolled through the door. All the lights were off, which was odd, because he noticed Dani’s car and Frankie’s truck outside. “Querida? Fish?” He called out. There was no answer, but he heard Ellie’s giggles coming from her room. He forgot they were supposed to watch her tonight. He walked down the hall, and stood outside the door. He could hear you shushing. He pushed open the door. The sight in front of him made him fall to his knees. Dani was sat there next to Frankie, both of them helping Ellie hold a sign that said: Uncle Santi has been promoted to daddy in big bold letters with the sonogram underneath.

Alexander Thomas Garcia was born on August 17th at 2:17am.

@mylifeisactuallyamess @itspdameronthings

@221bshrlocked @danniburgh @speakerfor

#santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia x ofc #santiagoe garcia fic #santiago garcia #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #oscar isaac #kat writes #playin with fire #PWF

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years ago

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weapon? monster? child.

this was a request from ao3 for some roman jason! i hope y'all enjoy

CW: vague manipulation themes

[images have alt text]

Even wolves bow to the law.

Jason Grace wakes up with his alarm. 7:00 a.m., it blinks at him. The first thing he feels is the cool breeze that blows in from the river bordering their camp, and through the window near his bed. They put him here so he’d be the first point of protection should anything from outside try to attack. He took the position gratefully. Lowered his head in thanks and packed up the little he had. From the big warm rooms of the main house where the youngest of them slept, to the straight and narrow dormitories of their assigned cohorts.

His blue eyes, dull and wide, blink as he stares at the roof. He’s one of the luckier ones. He has a whole bunk to himself. People are scared to sleep next to him, or near him. This son of Jupiter, this child of Lupa, this being of Power. What if they shake the bunk in the night and he tears them apart with his father’s lightning.

Jason would never. He is trained better than that. He will have control of his emotions. If he doesn't, innocent people will die. He knows this. A cub got hurt once. He wasn’t allowed to eat for a week. At least not with the pack. He was too young to get food on his own. He must learn the ways of the wolves, for they are the way of the world, and the bearers of the law.

Even wolves bow to the law.

He swings his legs over the bed, and jumps down. His landing is silent. The floorboards do not even creak. They are cold though, but he is used to this. It is the second thing that wakes him up.

The routine goes like this: alarm>roof>floorboards>cold water>clothes> weapon check>breakfast>camp activities.

Everyday. Every Single Day. Always the same thing, never a deviation, never an interruption. We must be organized beings Jason , he hears Lupa in his head over and over again, f or if we are chaos we must expect to be destroyed. Chaos must not exist outside of it’s containment. That was the final lesson. Chaos doesn’t follow rules therefore it should not exist.

Jason splashes cool water on his face, stares at himself in the scratched mirror. Too many demigods looking through the same glass. He wonders if any of them want to see something different? He does. Gods he does, desperately and ungratefully.

He wants to see how blue his eyes can get. And if his hair can be messier than this buzzed golden blonde look. If his hands can be softer than the callouses he always sports. And if his skin can be more golden. Would he look more alive?

He goes to breakfast. They're serving an array of things. Jason gets oats with too much honey. He sits at the edge of a table, nearest to the exit. Some people come to sit at the same table, but they keep a distance that moving closer would not bridge. Their laughter is his curiosity, their questions are his silent answers. He agrees that Silene from cohort three should go with the blue hair ties because it matches her socks. He decides diet coke is the best of the diet cola series. He frowns when Lucian from cohort two shows off their new throwing dagger at the table.

No weapons where you eat. Lupa frowns when he brings a whittled stick to their meal. Why? Because eating is a time of truce and peace. If I bared my fangs at you while you ate how would you feel? And his little eyes had grown wide as saucers, tears filling faster than he could stop them. Yes Lupa , he had mumbled, throwing his tiny spear away. He had just wanted to show her what he could do. He would never use it on them. That was the first of many things he had made and lost. Hard labour is only accepted when it benefits someone else. Another lesson learned.

Even wolves bow to the law.

The sword slips from his grip. Before it hits the floor his other hand is grabbing it. With a low growl he starts again. Twirl, strike, counter, direction, twirl, sidestep. He gets it this time. He allows a small smile. If there was a mirror he would have seen his eyes shine a little brighter.

“Jason!” Someone calls his name from outside. He nearly flinches. With a toss of his sword it pockets as a coin and then he’s jogging towards the door.

“Hey,” He squints the sun out of his eyes, searching for his summouner against the bright morning.

Reyna, a new camper, still young but full of anger, stands in front of him. Her legs are shoulder width apart, hands on her hips. Her tattoo is so pitch black against her brown skin. A single stripe mars her arm. He wonders if her collection of lines will someday rival his. The frown creasing her dark eyebrows is securely in place.

“What’s wrong?”

“They said you have to train me today.”

“Why me?” He frowns, looking around her for older campers. It is not traditional for campers as young as him to be training new recruits. Even if he has been here longer than most demigods. Still the older ones are given duties and responsibilities like this. There is a hierarchy and it starts with the time of your birth.

“Will you teach me?” The demand sort of irks him but only because he has never been asked to do something like this and now it is just being thrown at him with no warning, or training.

He tries not to let it show on his face. He must do a good job because her own fierce expression doesn’t change, react to him. She simply stares.

“Yes,” He motions for her to follow him back into the training center. “I will teach you.”

“What do we start with?” Her excitement is starting to wage war with her anger. They are still little kids after all.

“We start with body training.” He looks her over, assessing the thinness of her arms, the way her legs sway even when she tries to stand still. As if she had been on a ship for too long and her body no longer knows what solid ground feels like.

“What?” She’s back to frowning, glaring at him. “I want to learn how to use weapons. I want to fight.”

“The first weapon is your body.” He says, moving to the center of the room where a large training mat is spread across the floor.

“No, the first weapon is the one I can get my hands on.”

“How will you use a weapon if you can’t even hold it?” He doesn't understand why she won’t follow the order of things. Train your body>wield the weapon>fight the war. That’s how it is. That’s the order.

“My mother is Bellona!” She growls. “I already know how to fight.”

He stands in front of her, considering. They are about the same height, definitely the same age, though his weight is solid, whereas she looks like she’s been eating nothing but berries and cold meats for weeks. No sustenance.

“Okay Reyna,” He raises a brow. Something thrums under his skin, increases his heart rate. He believes it’s excitement. Are his eyes glowing? “If you can lay me down in two minutes, we’ll start on weapons training right away.”

The gleam that enters her gaze, brown eyes brightening like headlights, almost makes him laugh. “Fine.” She gives him a single nod.

And then she’s sprinting towards him, teeth bared, hands clawed in front of her. She fights like it's survival. He knows something of that. He steps out of the way. Her frustration is a spark. And she is dynamite. He is there to watch the world blow up. His eyes are lightning blue.

Wolves may bow to the law. But they hunt the chaos.

#roman jason #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #jason #grace #roman!jason #pjo #hoo #pjjg fanfic

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years ago

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Mr. Sandman pt. 2 (Miss Venable x reader)

After one month I finally finished the second pt, whooho :) Well i guess its a bit different, than the first chapter, but i hope yall like it- I can imagine making a third pt of this, but it would be much more fucked up and weird, than this chapter..lol I wanted to say thank you for your nice comments under the first chapter, they made me really happy :3

summary: three weeks have passed and you are trying to understand everything

warnings: depression (idk if a robot can have depression-), uhm bruises,..

And if ur name is Laura, don't hate me! yikes hahah

here is the first pt. :

https://littlejeaniehugsbumblebees.tumblr.com/post/639876084639334400/mr-sandman-ms-venable-x-reader

hello google translate:3

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make her the cutest that I've ever seen Give her two lips like roses and clover And tell her that her lonely nights are over

It had been 3 weeks since the thing with the letter. 3 fucking weeks since you found out you were nothing more than a programmed machine.

And everything had gotten weird.

Ordinarily, you might call your behavior depression, but you were a goddamn robot and couldn't actually feel anything.

Sometimes you would spend hours in front of the mirror looking at your strange body. No.. to look at her body. You were just an image of her and your body was just a thing made of metal, tied through with cables and covered with a skin-colored rubber.

It all made no sense, all your memories of your family, your friends and your meeting with Mina (your first meeting in your bookstore, your first date, the first kiss, ..) all of this had to be real. But as Mutt had explained to you, your brain was just a hard drive with a stored script in which Mina had invested a lot of time to make your "memories" as detailed as possible. After all, she wanted you to be perfect.

To be honest, you had no idea how to act towards Mina. She was right somewhere, without her, you wouldn't exist. Maybe you should be grateful or happy that she created you. And on top of that, you really thought you loved her, needed her, or wanted her. But inside you knew that you only did all of these things because she programmed you to do so. Nothing you ever did was really your own excuse. You were just what she wanted you to be and in addition to that, you weren't even unique anymore. Mina had just copied you and used you for her own purposes.

Inwardly, you tried to fight the urge to kiss her, sit on her lap, or even smile at her, simply because you knew it wasn't what you wanted, but what she wanted. She wanted you to kiss her, wanted you to sit on her lap and wanted you to smile at her.

And all these feelings that cooked in you at the same time, the forced love for Mina and at the same time the hate because she was so selfish, let you get tired and pulled you down into a deep hole.

But you were a robot, you couldn't feel anything.

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

"You should fucking stop coking while you're working on her", hissed Mina, staring into the stupid faces of Jeff and Mutt.

"She should be perfect, do you understand that?"

"Calm down", Mutt mutturd, raising both hands as Jeff swept the rest of the cocaine off the table. The fine powder fell like snow on the floor and the fact that these drugs were now on the white floor made Mina even more angry.

"We're the best at this and we know that if she doesn't turn out perfect, you'll probably kill us," Jeff explained with a smug grin on his ugly face.

"It's better for you if you know," Mina growled, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"How far are you?"

"So," Jeff got up bored to go to his project.

"All we have to do is insert her face and load your script from her hard drive and then we're done."

Mina's gaze wandered to the 3D printer Jeff was pointing to. Inside was the mask of a face ... your face. It was her eyes staring at some point, the same blush of her cheeks on yours, as was the gentle curve of your lips as hers.

"May I ..?" Mina asked and held out her hand for the mask. Jeff shrugged.

"Do what you want, but then bring the mask with you to her body, then we can finish it off."

The man turned to go to the computer next to the body on the table.

"Meanwhile I'll be loading your script on her hard drive", he called afterwards, but Miss Venable no longer listened to him. Her attention was fully focused on the mask, which she had carefully removed from the printer.

The face looked almost dead in her hands as not a single facial muscle was tense and yet Miss Venable could already tell that you were exactly as she had imagined. Just like she remembered Y / N.

Miss Venable stepped away from the 3D printer to walk past Jeff to your body.

She took off her leather gloves before running her fingers over the exposed skin of your arm. It was fascinating how much the rubber felt like real skin. It wasn't the first time, that she saw the result of your body, but it always fascinated her.

Her gaze wandered to your head and she was startled, when she saw directly in your head on the hard drive, that was connected to Jeff's computer by a black cable.

"And she won't ask any questions?" She asked, turning to Jeff.

"Nope," said Mutt, who stood with his arms folded next to his colleague to stare at the computer.

"I took the liberty of reading your script and apart from all the crazy sex you wrote down there, it seems to be very verbose."

Mina's eyes narrowed at Mutt's words and she bit the inside of her cheek to swallow all the insults that came into her mind. This script had been private.

On the other hand, she was tired of waiting for you and just wanted it to be over as soon as possible and that she could finally have you after waiting so many years.

"Okay, this is what we got," Jeff began as he got up from the computer and walked over to your body to pull the cable out of your head.

"Y / N will think, she was here to pick you up from work and then she would have passed out for whatever reason. So she won't wonder why she is here. Well, you know, she thinks that you've been together for a few years, so you have to play along right away. "

"I've spent so many years preparing for this moment," Mina hissed as she watched Jeff insert the face into your body.

And she was right, for years she had lived in her house like a second person was living with her. She had bought Y / N's size clothes, her make-up, her perfume, the books she liked ... Someone would have called it madness, but to her it was confidence. Just because she knew she'd have you one day. And today she could finally take you home with her.

"We're ready," Jeff said, turning to Mutt.

"You can power her up."

"Wait," Mina interrupted while she stared down into your blank face. Your eyes were closed and now it almost looked like you were sleeping.

"I want to be alone with her, when she wakes up."

"B-but what if something doesn't work?"

"It will work."

"Your decision", Jeff mumbled and went to Mutt to leave the room with him.

"Oh and Miss Venable, you know, that telling her about your her identity wouldn't be the best idea."

"She will never know, I'll make sure", Mina replied and went to the computer to switch you on. As quickly as she could, she came back to the table you were lying on, staring expectantly into your face.

And then you came to life.

First your eyes opened and Mina saw you blink a few times confused at the bright ceiling lamp.

"What's up, honey?" You asked her with a frown, but Mina couldn't answer. You looked so damn real, just like her.

"Are you okay?", You grinned crookedly while you sat up.

Your smile, the slightly curved eyebrows and your lively eyes, it was perfect.

"I- I am just happy that you're awake again," Mina finally managed to stutter.

"Naww you were worried about me? You're cute," you muttered, reaching for her hands.

"Can we go home now?"

Mina nodded slowly while she stared into the loving glitter eyes.

You were perfect

Wilhemina opened her eyes. The image of your sparkling eyes was still buzzing around in her head while she stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. Damn it, how many weeks had you not looked at her like that?

Miss Venable was usually not one to wake up at night, but since you knew what you really were, she slept badly and at night dreamed of the time when you didn't know and you were both happy. In addition, the weight of your head was missing on her chest..Your arm wrapped around her waist and the locks of hair that usually tickled her face.

It was almost impossible to sleep like this. She just needed to feel like you belonged to her. How many times had Miss Venable dreamed of Y/N in Jonathan's arms one night and then woke up only to see, that you were as close to her as you could possibly be?

And since you knew it, you just lay next to her in bed, curled up in yourself and felt worlds away from Mina. She was sure you were toying with the idea of sleeping in the guest room. But you could never do that, because that's how she programmed you. You wanted to be with her.

Mina turned her head to the side to see you. You lay on your back next to her and stared out the window with glassy eyes. Lost, thought Miss Venable.

"Why are you awake?" She asked softly and grabbed your hand, which was on your chest.

"I can't sleep"you replied dryly without looking at her.

I don't need to sleep, I'm a fucking robot Wilhemina.

"Do you want to read? Uhm- We haven't read together in ages," she asked and began to run her thumb over the back of your hand.

You just shook your head before turning to her and looking at her with such a pain in your eyes, that she wanted to cry.

"I'm not real, Mina," you said in a thick voice as tears came out of your eyes. You reached your other hand to your face to wipe away the tears.

"These tears are not real."

"That is not true." Mina whispered and took your other hand as well.

"You are here and you are real."

"I'm not even alive. I'm just a dead thing made of cables, I live as much as your computer does."

"Don't say something like that.", Mina mumbled reaching behind her to turn on the bedside lamp. She actually wanted to say something, but when she turned back to you, her eyes fell on the small bruises on your arm.

"What the hell, Y / N", she scolded in horror and ran her fingers over the dark spots.

"Oh, it's not that bad," you said quickly as you pulled your arm away.

"It's actually quite interesting, you know, when we were in the office to fix my hand, Mutt explained to me that I have certain sensors under this rubber layer, that make me think I'm feeling pain. And how my skin changes color when I injure myself..you know, its really cool"

Mina looked at you disturbed, while you explained to her factually how interesting you found that.

"Mutt sent me the plans for my body too," you continued, staring thoughtfully at your forearm.

"It's so fascinating to see how my body digests food or how my emotions work."

"Why are you in contact with this idiot?", Mina frowned.

"Because I wanted to know how I work..I also noticed that I can't get any older and it's kind of funny."

"Funny", Mina repeated, planning a thousand ways in her head, how she would kill Mutt.

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

"You fucking idiot," she hissed the next day as she hobbled into Jeff and Mutt's office.

"How dare you even think you have the right to clear Y / N?"

"I thought, it would be good, after she found out everything," Mutt muttered without looking up from his computer.

"Oh yeah?", Mina's eyes sparkled with anger.

"And I thought, we said, it would be best if she didn't know."

"I understand why he gave her the plans," Jeff interjected.

"Who the hell asked you ??", Mina spat and Jeff shrugged.

"I'm just saying, that I think it's better for her. You want her to be happy and I think that's only possible, if she knows who she is."

"Oh no," Mina shook her head. "I want her to be like Y / N again and unfortunately that won't work if you explain how her robot body works. You could have sent her the script right away."

"Who knows, maybe I'll do that too," Mutt mumbled and looked enviously at Jeff, who was already coking again. "She deserves to know everything."

"You won't do anything like that," Mina growled dangerously.

"You both still work for me and what I do with my girlfriend is my decision".

With that she turned to walk out of the office and eventually out of the building. She just wanted to go home, but at the same time she knew that you and not Y / N would be waiting for her there.

"I'm home princess", she called out loud as she always did when she came home and like the weeks before she got no answer from you. Mina sighed as she hung her jacket on the stand. She hobbled into the bedroom and saw you the night before, just lying there and staring out the window. You hadn't gone to work in the past few weeks, it felt kind of pointless.

"How was your day, princess?" Asked your girlfriend, who was lost in the doorway and tried to get you to talk somehow.

"Good," you said curtly. "You didn't want to tell me how long I've been around, but I think I figured it out today."

Mina's breath caught.

"Did Mutt tell you that too?"

"Nope," you mumbled. "It was me alone. Well, I noticed that based on what I thought I knew, we've been living together for 4 years, but there are only pictures of the last two years, so I think, I'm 2 years old. Somehow that sounds funny, doesn't it? You're dating a two year old. "

For a few seconds, Mina just stared at you. You were right, you were two years old.

"When will you finally get back to normal," she finally mumbled and stepped outthe door frame to sit on the bed. You snorted in annoyance and shook your head as you sat up.

"Define normal, Mina."

"When will you talk to me again? When will you kiss me again? Will you sit on my lap or at least smile at me?" She screamed, making you wince at her volume.

"You treat me like I did something wrong."

"Sorry, but do you find it normal to live with someone, who is actually dead and looks like your 'big love'?" You yelled back.

"It was normal until you knew it and now you pretend there was something wrong with it," Mina stared at you in disbelief, as if she didn't understand how fucked up these facts actually were.

"You could at least have made me unique with a will of my own .. I could have loved you anyway and if I had decided it myself, that's actually how it works," you spat as you leaned against the headboard.

"Then you wouldn't have been like her," Mina replied dryly and you just rolled your eyes.

"So what?".

"So what ?!", Mina repeated angrily.

"Maybe because the only person I love is her and not you?"

Your eyes widened at her words.

"You- you are insane, Mina," you stuttered and got up to walk out of the room. And you would have loved to leave, but you were a human boomerang, no matter how far away you went, you would keep coming back to her. Because that's how she programmed you.

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

A few days went by and you thought a lot about the fact, that she had told you in the face, that she didn't love you but this woman. And you started to hate it all. You hated Mina for her incredible selfishness. You hated yourself for being completely at the mercy of her because she programmed you that way and you hated Y / N (although you were actually Y / N, only in lesbian and metal) because Mina loved her and not you.

You knew, that Mina regretted telling you that, at least she tried to apologize to you later, but you ignored her.

In your eyes, what Mina felt was no longer love, but madness. And if you hadn't hated Y / N, you would probably have prayed for her, that Mina wouldn't have the idea of kidnapping her. Probably the next step on the insane scale. First Y / N had decided on Jonathan and then the stupid robot broke, so Mina was only left with kidnapping as a way out.

You really did your best to understand her behavior, but you just couldn't. Okay, well ... you were just a stupid robot and you only knew empathy from Mina's script.

"Well," you began when you came into her working space on Wednesday afternoon and sat across from her at the desk.

"I've thought of something."

That was the first time in days that you spoke to her without being asked.

You had actually decided to ignore her, until it was enough for her and she decided to leave you. However, the human part of you (Mina's ugly script) thought it would be fair to at least give her the opportunity to explain to you why she was the way she was.

Mina looked up from her laptop and smiled gently at you.

"Anything you want, princess".

You could hear the relief in her voice and you knew she was probably glad you spoke to her again.

And to be honest, you liked that situation. The fact, that she was so eager to talk to you again gave you an incredible feeling of power.

Usually you played by her rules and now you had the reins in hand.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at her for a few seconds with narrowed eyes. Despair literally glittered in her eyes and you couldn't help but enjoy this moment.

"I want to get to know Y / N", you finally said and watched as her brown eyes widened.

"You can't be serious," she whispered in disbelief.

"I am absolutely serious."

You shrugged your shoulders.

"You want me to get 'normal' again, but for that to happen, I have to understand you first, and here we are."

"But- ..", Mina started and then broke off herself. This stunned look sparked another war in you.

One side wanted to love her and tell her the idea was stupid, while the other side of you hated her profoundly.

"I hope you are aware, that this is not possible," she said quietly.

"And why not? Because then she finds out that you are a psychopath? This is your problem and not mine."

"Y / N, I can't do this," she mumbled, always seeing youstill horrified.

"I can dress up or something," you replied and immediately hated yourself for your willingness to compromise.

Mina shook her head.

"That's impossible Y / N ... your voice even sounds like hers."

"Nobody pays attention to the voice."

"Jonathan would notice," Mina said, pressing her lips together.

"Jonathan?" You repeated, confused, and raised an eyebrow.

"Her Husband," she mumbled softly.

"And why should your husband come with her, when I just want to see her?"

"He does not like me."

"And why should you come with me, when I want to see her?"

"Oh Y / N, come on", Mina rolled her eyes. "Do you really think, I'm so stupid and leave you alone with her? No way."

You snorted in annoyance and shook your head as you stood up.

"It was clear that you wanted to be in control of that too," you muttered, turning to walk out of the room.

"I'll leave the decision to you, Mina, but don't expect me to come back to you if you don't even give me the opportunity to understand you."

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

And Mina actually didn't seem to have given up hope, when she told you on the same day, ,that she would agree to your request.

It was maybe a bit ridiculous to dress up because of the whole thing, but otherwise Mina would not have agreed and you also wanted to spare Y / N, what had happened to you the last few weeks. By being basically Y / N, you knew exactly what it would feel like for her to find out the truth about you.

"So .. what do you think?" You asked when you walked into the hallway to Mina, who was already waiting.

Mina looked you up and down critically.

You had to do your best not to look like yourself, or rather not to look like her.

Dyed hair, different make-up, more conspicuous clothing and jewelry.

"I don't like it," Mina muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"It's not about whether you like it, it's about whether I look like her."

Mina shook her head.

"You definitely don't do that and I still think it's ugly."

"Well, maybe I should always dress like this now," you muttered as you stepped forward to leave the house.

During the drive to the café, Mina explained her rules to you and that she would interrupt the whole thing immediately if you didn't follow them.

But you didn't listen to her at all. In your mind you were with Y / N and the life that was actually intended for you and it annoyed you, that Mina was so addicted to control.

"So, behave, understand?" She finished her sermon as she parked the car.

"Do I have any other choice? Otherwise you would probably take me to the junkyard," you joked and climbed out of the car, only for Mina to come to you and take her hand in yours. You wanted to push her away, her behavior was disgusting, but instead you gave her a warm smile and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek.

You knew exactly how much that would hurt her.

Mina pulled you into the overcrowded café and despite the many people you immediately discovered the young couple, who were sitting at one of the back tables.

Y / N, who had a child on her lap and her husband Jonathan.

Shit, shot through your head. They look so happy ..

You felt Mina's grip on your hand tighten a little, and if your bones weren't made of steel, you would have been afraid, Mina would break your hand. As you both approached the table, your eyes were glued to Y / N. In fact, she looked exactly like you, the only difference being that her hair was a little longer than yours. She moved like you, had the same posture as you and wore the same innocent smile on her face as you always did.

And as much as you loathe Mina, you had to give her one thing: she had done an excellent job designing you and you finally understood, what she always meant when she told you, that you were perfect.

She could have shown you a photo of Y / N and you would have been 100% sure that it was you.

"Oh Mina, hi", Y / N squeaked excitedly and got up from her seat when she saw Mina and you and you couldn't help but grin. Stupid thing.

"Hello Y / N," Mina mumbled when Y / N came and hugged her.

"I'm Y / N," Y / N said to you with a polite smile after letting go of Mina.

"And this is my husband Jonathan and our daughter Emily."

Your gaze wandered to the child who paid you no attention and to Jonathan who smiled crookedly.

"Uhm Y / N, that's my girlfriend Laura", Mina stammered and you looked at her confused. Laura?

"Hi," you mumbled tersely, trying to bring a smile to your face.

You watched Y / N turn away from you againe to sit next to your husband and put the child back on your lap.

"God, I'm so glad, that we can meet," Y / N said excitedly as Mina and you sat down (Mina across from Y / N while you sat down across from her annoyed husband).

"You know, I was really sad when you said a few weeks ago you weren't going to our college meeting .. I missed you, Mina."

You knew how much Y / N's words would hurt Mina and suddenly you found the fact, that you were sitting with her in this cafe with the real Y / N and her great life more than just amazing. And you knew that Mina made herself very vulnerable at that moment, which was actually a rarity.

"You know, Mina, I was really happy for you when you told me that you had a girlfriend," Y / N said while she stared at you curiously. Holy shit.

"How did you meet?"

"Uhm she-" Mina began, but you interrupted her.

"Let me tell her, honey."

You grabbed Mina's hand, that was on the table and crossed her fingers with yours.

"Well, as you know, Mina works in this robot company. And because Mina is not stupid, she had the great idea to create a human robot that exactly meets her ideas, who wouldn't do that if you were CEO of this company? And unfortunately her ideas looked exactly like me and in front of you sits the end result of her experiment and thats our lovestory. "

Y / N and Jonathan stared at you in confusion and you could hear Mina holding her breath. You held this tension for a few seconds before you laughed out loud.

"Oh my god, guys..that was a joke", you laughed and immediately the looks of the others relaxed again. Mina cleared her throat only to growl a quiet "not funny".

"So you know, I work in a bookstore and she was my customer back then. Love at first sight and that shit. And then we started dating," you explained and looked at Mina lovingly from the side. Disgusting.

You heard Y / N squeak softly next to Jonathan and you wondered if you were as annoying as she was.

"Thats so cute," she said. "And how long have you been together?"

"4 years", Mina muttered and you hummed in agreement.

"I'm happy for you," said Y / N and looked back and forth between you and Mina, smiling.

"Jonathan and I have known each other since college, as Mina must have told you."

"Oh yeah," you said, staring at the child playing in Y / N's lap. It looked just like her, and who knows, maybe it was just a robot?

"Mina told me a lot about you, unfortunately a little late. Well, whatever, what are you two doing?"

"We're both mechanics and work in rocket construction," Y / N explained and Jonathan just nodded.

"You know, Jonathan is currently working with other mechanics on a rocket that will go to Mars."

Y / N gave Jonathan a proud look.

"Oh wow, that's so cool," you said with mock admiration as you stared at Jonathan with bright eyes.

"You know, Mina's work is really boring, but rocket building? That is so interesting, tell me more about your work, jonathan."

The man in front of you looked at you confused as you cocked your head and smiled sweetly at him.

"Uhm, so I work in a team with 14 other mechanics," he explained bored and crossed his arms over his chest. "And we plan to finish the whole project within the next two years."

"And should the rocket be for humans?" You asked as you put your hand on his arm to remove a lint that didn't exist. Beside you, you could feel Mina squeeze your hand tight and you knew, that she hated to see you obviously flirting with the man.

Jonathan cleared his throat and pulled his arms apart again so that you had to remove your hand again.

"This rocket is supposed to be for robots," he muttered, looking at his wife, who was sitting next to him, smiling gently.

"Oh, did you hear Mina? Robots?" You said as you turned to Mina to look at her with shining eyes.

"Maybe I should report to NASA, I would be the perfect astronaut for this mission".

You looked back at Y / N and Jonathan, who obviously didn't know what to make of your statement again. You grinned cheekily when you put your hand on Jonathans again.

"I understand, that all of the robot comments might sound a bit confusing, but you have to know, that Mina has some really weird fetishes."

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

"What the hell was that supposed to be?" Scolded Mina after the two of you had reentered your house. You turned to her and shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know what you mean, honey," you said with an innocent smile on your face as you approached her passed to enter the living room. Mina watched you angrily as you let yourself fall on the sofa to stare indifferently out of the window.

"Those stupid robot comments?" She hissed angrily.

"And then the disgusting way you stared at Jonathan with .."

You snorted in annoyance.

"Of course it is that thing that bothers you".

"Yes, it bothers me because you know that I hate him", Mina hissed and hobbled into the room to stand in front of you.

"You fucking belong to me Y / N .."

"Of course I'm yours," you mumbled sadly and while you were still looking out the window, you could feel her angry eyes digging into your skin. You thought back to the previous afternoon. Y / N had started talking about their perfect life in response to your questions. Her and Jonathan's career, and then cute Emily, who had been sitting at the table the whole time playing with a teddy bear. You noticed, that as a stupid robot you could probably never have children and you couldn't help but feel envy for this woman and again there was this hate for Mina.

"Okay, take that off," Mina suddenly said in a sharp voice. You looked at her confused and blinked a few times.

"Please what-?"

"Take. That. Off.", She repeated, growling, while her eyes wandered over your body. "This makeup, the jewelry and these clothes, that's not you. And I want you .. now"

"Oh no ... I definitely won't do that," you breathed as you stood up.

"I told you, I didn't want anything physical from you until things were cleared up."

"I waited a long time Y / N and nothing happened, so take this shit off," Mina spat, staring at you impatiently.

"Leave me alone, Wilhemina," you muttered as you stepped past her to leave the room.

"You will come back immediately, Y / N", Mina suddenly shouted in a tone that was strange to you and immediately made you jump. Her voice suddenly sounded so shrill that it gave goose bumps over your body.

You turned around automatically to go back to the living room, where Mina was still angry and looking at you expectantly.

"I want you to take your clothes off," she said sharply, and you just couldn't argue. There was that sound in her voice that she had never yelled at you with, even though you had argued a lot in the past few weeks.

"Now, Y / N," she hissed loudly before she hit the floor with her stick and you immediately began to take off all the jewelry, that you had only been wearing to not look like Y / N. You grabbed an unused kleenex, that was lying on the living room table to wipe the lipstick off your lips. Your fingers carefully removed the lashes, that you had placed on your eyelashes. Your eyes were still on Mina, who had meanwhile sat down on the sofa and watched your every move. You stood in front of her, undecided after throwing the handkerchief with your lipstick and lashes on the table.

"I want you to sit on my lap," said Mina and suddenly you understood why you were actually doing what she wanted.

“I want.”

Damn robot.

You carefully climbed onto her lap and stared sadly into her brown eyes, which were dark with lust.

"Good girl," she hummed, sending warmth through your whole body.

"Its that what you want, isn't it? Be my good girl?"

You looked down at her with glassy eyes before you nodded.

Immediately her hands began to wander over your body and you knew that you had failed.

You had never hated yourself and your stupid body as much as you had for the next few hours. As warm tears of frustration ran down your face, you moaned her name like a whore. It was fascinating how your body reacted to her touch, you wanted her so bad, simply because she programmed you that way.

With that she had won.

You had fought her for 3 weeks, only to end up in bed with her again. You hated her for it and you hated yourself and still you let her fuck you so senselessly.

When you found yourself in your bed a few hours later and felt her naked body pressed against yours, you felt more terrible than ever. Mina had her arms wrapped tightly around you and you could feel her breath on your neck. It was all disgusting and you noticed how it got too much.

You carefully freed yourself from her iron grip to go quietly from your bedroom into the bathroom. You turn on the light and stand in front of the mirror to examine your naked body. Disgusting.

Your face looked completely tearful, with a swollen lower lip that she had a few hours agohad eyes.

Your body was covered with small bruises and the prints of her fingernails and suddenly you could feel her hands running over your body again. It was electrifying.

You hated this picture in front of you. You were only there to be hers. To do what she wanted. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Your fingers carefully traced her markings. None of this was real. Your skin was some kind of rubber that only discolored. An illusion to hide your cables. And you've had enough of this human shell, this illusion. You were a robot and you looked like a human, you acted like a human and that didn't make any sense. You finally wanted to know who or rather what you were. Your eyes wandered from your reflection in the mirror to the sink and the small nail scissors stabbed your eyes.

The whole thing was idiotic, but you couldn't help but hold out your trembling hand for it.

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

A few minutes after you got out of bed, Mina woke up too. The lack of warmth in your body was missing, as was your weight in her arms. For a brief moment she was afraid, that you would finally have run away, but then it occurred to her, that you couldn't run away, that's how she had programmed you. Still, she had the feeling that something was wrong.

Mina sat up to grab her dressing gown, which she pulled over her naked body, and then hobbled out of the bedroom into the hallway to look for you. She didn't have to look far as the light shone from the open bathroom and she saw you leaning over the sink.

"Princess?" She asked softly and put a hand on your bare shoulder. You winced at her touch as you turned and revealed to Mina what you had done. Mina let out a shocked scream and stared in horror at your slashed arm, which revealed all the cables and your metal bones.

"What the fuck are you doing ?!", She screamed angrily as she grabbed your arm.

"I- I just wanted to see my real body," you stuttered and hid the nail scissors behind your back.

"Don't you see that you are destroying everything?", Mina spat and looked at you hurt.

"You're the one who breaks everything."

"Mina, please," you mumbled and pulled your open arm back again.

"I just want you to be normal again," she breathed and felt tears come out of her eyes. You shook your head slowly.

"We already had this conversation, I'm not going back to normal, you have to understand."

"Oh I understand it now".

Mina looked at you thoughtfully for a moment before continuing.

"Get dressed."

"It's 5 am," you said and watched in confusion as Mina turned around to go back to your bedroom from the bathroom.

"You understood me, Y / N", Mina mumbled and heard how you ran after her angrily.

"Make up your mind Mina," you hissed as you walked past her to your closet. "Before you wanted me to take my clothes off, just so you would tell me now to get dressed again."

"You can also accompany me to my office naked," Mina hummed, who started to get dressed. You spun around and stared at her in confusion.

"You want us to go to your office?"

"Exactly".

"Forget it," you snorted and shook your head.

"I won't do that shit. You can't-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Shouted Mina.

"I want us to go to my office and you will come with me, do you understand me?"

She glared at you and you nodded quickly.

"Good," she hissed. "Now damn it, get dressed and shut up."

----------

Mina was incredibly nervous when she drove to her office. She didn't really know what she wanted there herself.

She wanted you to go back to normal, but you didn't go back to normal. She wanted you to be Y / N again, but you weren't. Mina could feel that you were scared when you sat silently next to her in the car without moving. But she didn't care, earlier she might have calmed you down, but earlier you were still like Y / N.

Mina parked the car in the company's parking lot before opening the door for you to get out. Without a word, she ran through the building, clutching your wrist with her free hand. What hadn't been cut open. She stomped angrily into the office of Jeff and Mutt, who were bent over the table again to coke.

"Look Mutt, Venny joins the chatroom," grinned Mutt as he lifted his head from the table and recognized Miss Venable.

"What gives us the honor?"

Mina put her hand on your back and pushed you forward.

"She is broken," she croaked. "She doesn't work anymore .."

"So what should we do now?" Asked Jeff, as he got up and walked over to you to look at your cut arm.

"I want you to fix her, she should be normal," Mina hissed and felt tears sting in her eyes again.

"Otherwise replace her if you have to, I don't want her if she is like that."

Mina looked sadly into your fearful eyes. There was nothing left of the loving glint she'd seen when you smiled at her the first time. You weren't like Y / N and as long as you weren't like her, she didn't want you. Damn robot.

Sandman, I'm so alone Don't have nobody to call my own Please turn on your magic beam Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #american horror story

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