#now back to living in the house that brought you the issues that you're going to therapy for
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spencereidluver · 5 months ago
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L is for Lover Boy
december 14, 2008
summary:  After you have to drive back to your apartment for the third time in two days to get stuff, Spencer clears out two drawers in his dresser for you while you're gone and can't wait to show you.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: just lots of fluff and spence being a good bf
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“No, don’t go,” Spencer says as he gently claws at your hips trying to pull you back into him. You were cuddled up with him on the sofa in his living room watching some documentary he’d put on. This was your third day at Spencer’s house, having come over Friday after work and spending the night, then being begged not to leave, so after paying a quick visit to your home in order to get a toothbrush, clothes, and anything else your heart desired, you returned to Spencer’s apartment for a second night. 
“Spencer, baby, I have to,” you try to pry his hands from your hips, though he is a lot stronger than he looks. He gets a hold of you, pulling you onto his lap. He starts to tickle your ribs, making you hunch over him. You try to push his hands away, but ultimately fail as you yell his name between giggles.
“Stay and I’ll stop,” he smiles into your neck. 
“One more night,” you say and grab his wrists in order to calm his movements. “But I have to go home and get work clothes, so let me go.”
He pouts, but obliges. It’s so hard to tell such a sweet boy no, plus falling asleep in his arms every night is something you could see yourself getting used to.
“Fine, but hurry. I want to cuddle,” he sighs.
You lean down, planting a kiss on his forehead and fluffing his hair with your fingers. “I love you, Spencie,” you say. “I love you.”
You trudge to the door of his apartment, slipping your shoes and coat on and grabbing your keys. “I’ll be back,” you call out to Spencer before you exit the apartment and make your way to the stairs and out to your car.
_____
At your apartment, you grabbed the one clean work outfit you still had and tossed it over your shoulder. You’d been at Spencer’s place so much recently you hadn’t done laundry in weeks. He was gonna be sad when you broke the news that tonight was the last night. For now anyways. You loved staying with Spencer
 The only issue was all your stuff was at your house. 
You studied the walls of your apartment. How was it that a place you’d been so comfortable in for so long had become barren? How was it that Spencer’s presence is truly what made you feel at home? You neared the entryway of your unit, letting your fingers track on the surface of the wooden table to the side of the door. You brought your hand up to your eye level: Dust. Your apartment had sat empty for so long that even the most communal surfaces had become neglected. Normally you’d stop to wipe the dust clean, but right now, all that was filling your consciousness was returning to Spencer. You grabbed the pack of gum off the dust-covered table and clenched your keys in your fist. You rush out the door of your apartment and head straight for the elevator. 
_____
You’re practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back into Spencer’s apartment complex. You take the stairs as you don’t see waiting on the elevator as time efficient since you’re only going up to the second floor. As you approach his unit, you slow your steps, careful not to alarm any of the tenets. You reach his door, shuffling the items in your hands in order to knock. Two hits of your fist on the wood and the golden number “twenty-three” is replaced by a smiling Spencer Reid. 
“Hey Spence,” you say, handing over the bag in your arms as he’d grabbed the strap, signaling he wanted to take it from you. He was always chivalrous: opening doors, wrapping you in his sweaters, buying you flowers, and this was another example of such. He always carried your bag for you, even if he had his own. If there was anything Spencer could do to make your day the slightest bit simpler, he was jumping to it. His world revolved around making you happy. And he did a damn good job of it. 
“Hi, how was your apartment?” He asked as he stepped aside so you could enter his. He followed you, shutting the door and turning the lock behind him. 
“It was alright,” you said. “Just how I left it.” You watched as he placed your bag gently on the counter. He was always extremely gentle with your things, even if he didn’t need to be. He cared as much for your things as he did for you, and treated all things, great or small, as if they were as delicate as his love for you. 
“That’s good, I’m glad no one had intruded in your absence.” He turned his attention away from the direction of the counter and toward you. His eyes focused on your face, studying you. “Hey, I want to show you something,” he said as he brought his hand up to meet your waist. He pulled you into a hug, letting his hands linger on you after you’d pulled back. He stared at you for a moment before pulling you back into him, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was rough- like getting hit by a bus. A very pleasant bus, but a bus nonetheless. His hands gripped on your waist, surely leaving marks, as his lips moved feverishly into yours. 
You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away gently by his chest. He gives a small pout which makes you feel a bit bad, so you lean to give him one last small peck. He smiles. 
“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks forming a light blush, “I just love you.” His hands fall from your waist. He shuffles to the front of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him as he leads you to his bedroom. 
“I love you, Spence,” you say while trailing behind him. “So much. Now, what are you showing me?” He drops your hand as you enter his room, moving it to the small of your back and giving you a slight shove in the direction of one of his closet.
Spencer’s closet was a small room jutting out of the wall adjacent to the door. In it was a six drawer chest, a floor mirror, and a horizontal rod that harbored his polo shirts, sweaters, and suit jackets. In front of the mirror sat his three pairs of shoes- his black converse, his brown leather dress shoes, and his black suede dress shoes. Typically, his converse were just thrown in front, as they were his most common choice and he didn’t see the effort to put them back nicely every single time was worth it. You took notice of the fact that they were set up nicely like the two pairs of dress shoes, him even having tied them to make it more visually appealing. You also noticed the knickknacks he had atop his dresser had been rearranged, and some books had been relocated from somewhere. 
“You cleaned your closet!” you said, reaching out to fondle the Curta calculator that was placed on the edge of the dresser. 
“I did,” he responded, still having ahold of your back. “Open the bottom drawers.” 
You were a bit confused. Why was he giving you a closet tour? What could possibly be so intriguing about the contents of these drawers that he had to give you the rundown? You obliged nonetheless, partially because you were curious, but mostly because you could sense his excitement and knew this was a big thing for him. 
Leaning down to grab the parallel knobs on the very bottom drawer, you braced for something slightly heavy, a wooden drawer filled with clothing, but were taken aback when the drawer practically flew open. It was empty. You were confused. Was he getting a head start on spring cleaning? Maybe you just opened the wrong drawer. You silently opened the next drawer up, it being empty as well.
You stood and faced Spencer who had a big goofy grin on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, softening your voice to say, “I’m confused.”
“It's for you,” he said, still with his dorky smile. “I just thought, since you’ve been staying here so often, and I really hate to have you traveling to and from your apartment for five minutes every other day, maybe you could store some of your clothes and things here.”
“Spencer, I-”
You must’ve had a passive tone because his smile faded as the words fell out your mouth.
“I-if you don’t want to then I understand, I know we really just started dating and rushing things is statistically bad for relationships, and I’m n-not saying you should move in with me, I just-”
“Spencer,” you interrupted him, desperate to save him from his pointless embarrassment. His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, almost as if he’s pleading. “Spence, this is so sweet,” you say, “it’s perfect.”
His smile, though more calm this time, returns. “Really?” he asks.
“Really. Such a good idea too.” You ruffle his hair. “I love you.”
His smile widens, his eyes squinting from the contortion of his cheeks. 
He can barely spit out an “I love you too,” before his expression changes to one of remembrance. 
“Oh!” he exclaims, “I also took my books out of this nightstand, you can put stuff in there too.” He gestured to the nightstand on the closet side- the right side- your side- of the bed.
‘That’s where those books on the dresser came from,’ you thought to yourself. You glance at the bed, noticing that he’d not only done your laundry, but also folded your clothes and separated them by outfits for you. 
“Wow,” you say as your hand grazes the fabric of the folded clothing, “you really didn’t have to do all this, Spencer.”
“I know,” he said, “but I wanted to.” He picks up one of the stacks of your clothing off the bed and carries it the few steps to the closet. “You want to go ahead and put these in here?” He gestures toward the dresser.
“Sure, these can be my ‘Spencer’ clothes!” 
He giggles at your little pun. That was something you loved about Spencer; no matter how bad a joke you made was, he always laughed. Maybe he was just being nice, but it made you feel good, so you weren’t complaining.
_____
You awoke before Spencer for the first time since you’ve been staying over. 
‘Doing all that rearranging last night must’ve really knocked him out,’ you thought.
You lied still in his embrace, careful not to move a muscle. He was lying on his back, left arm tucked underneath you, right draped across your waist. You lied on your stomach, left leg wrapped around his hips, the other down parallel to his. Your head rested on his chest allowing you to hear every breath taken by him. You were worried if you moved even a tiny bit it would stir him awake and this would end. You were far too comfortable in his arms and with your thoughts to do such a thing. 
Unintentionally, you found yourself matching his breathing patterns. You found yourself unintentionally matching a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms as of recently. Granted, you spent almost all your time with him, but you could never have ‘too much’ Spencer Reid. You thought about what he said last night: “I know we really just started dating.” While technically he was correct, it had only been three months since your first date, and a little over two since you guys had become official, it felt like a lifetime with him. Maybe this was because you were just as close before, the only difference now being that you kiss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself this is his first relationship. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were weary to begin the relationship at first, though now you’re more than happy you did. Spencer has been the best decision of your life. Turning him from your nerdy best friend to the love of your life has been the best decision. He was perfect. 
Spencer stirred beneath you, rolling over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You reached your hand up, tangling it in his hair, and gently ran your nails through his scalp. He brought his knees up toward his chest, now lying in a loose fetal position with his legs tucked into the gap yours left. He was like a baby. Your baby. 
You could hear his breath getting caught in his throat as his body fought to stay asleep. 
“Hey,” you whispered softly into his ear as you let your hand trace down his hairline to cup his jaw. He gave you a small groan in response, being awake but not yet conscious. 
“Spence baby,” you hummed. You tilted his face up toward you while rubbing your thumb back and forth on his sharp jawline. You pressed several small kisses on his forehead. From the way he was leaning into you, it was obvious he was awake. You looked down at him, his eyes still shut.
“G’morning,” Spencer mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and met yours. 
“How’d you sleep?” You brushed a stray piece of hair from in front of his eyes.
“Pretty good. I uh, I had a dream about you.” 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. We were just reading. You know, actually they say when you dream of your partner it means you’re wanting to spend more time with them, which is strange because aside from when you went home for an hour last night we’ve been together for the past 56 hours with no cases as a distraction. That’s the longest time we’ve been together.”
Only Spencer could wake up and immediately start sharing facts.
“Maybe it means you enjoyed the last 56 hours and wish for them to continue, rather than for them to come into existence since they already have.”
He smiles at you, in awe. “That- that’s a really good point.” “You’re not the only smart one, Dr. Reid.” You boop his nose to acknowledge that you’re teasing him. Spencer sometimes struggles with social cues; it doesn’t take a genius to know that. You always try your hardest to do something to let him know you’re just teasing. 
He’s still smiling. “Y/n, you never fail to amaze me.” 
His eyes sparkle in the light. More than usual. A tear falls from his left eye. He’s crying.
You wipe the tear away and grab his chin, lifting up toward you. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, using your soft voice again. Another set of tears falls from his eyes.
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he said, “I just
” His voice hitched. Tears stream down his face seemingly uncontrollably. “I just love you so much, Y/n.”
“I love you, Spencer.” You say earnestly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his salty, tear soaked, lips. He melted into the kiss instantly, chasing your lips as you pulled away. 
“Please, Y/n. Kiss me,” he said, sitting up to allow easier access. You sat up as well, criss-crossing your legs in front of you to match Spencer. You lean forward, grabbing ahold of his thighs to keep yourself from face planting into him. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s pressing his lips onto yours. You taste his tears with every opening of your mouth. He still has morning breath, you know you do too, but that taste belongs to what you call home. This boy, this bed, this room, this apartment; it's your home.
_____
next chapter: M is for Merry Christmas
other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist
view the masterlist in a calendar version! 
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a/n: hi! long time no see... i'm really sorry for my unannounced absence :( i got really busy with school and work and just had a major burnout. i'm really gonna try to push some stories out for you guys as i really do enjoy writing them and seeing your guys' reaction to them. thank you guys for sticking with me
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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!
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bellyyearner · 3 months ago
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Office life at 550+ lbs
Word count: 1061
Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective
No gender mentioned POV
Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.
As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.
And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.
Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.
You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.
The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".
Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.
Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR
"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."
Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.
Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"
A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.
With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy
Part 2
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sturniolohouse · 4 months ago
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Anniversary in the Cape - M.S
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A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)
summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.
warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk
word count: 5.8k
song: stargazing - the neighborhood
'started with a spark, now we're on fire'
"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.
"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.
"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.
"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.
"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.
"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.
Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.
It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.
Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 
But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.
"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.
"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 
"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.
We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 
"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.
His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 
"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 
"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 
"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.
He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.
This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  
The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.
We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 
"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.
Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.
I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.
"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.
I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.
"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.
As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.
The house is small and charming.
It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.
I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.
I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.
Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.
Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.
"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.
"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.
"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.
"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.
The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.
"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.
He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.
I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.
"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.
"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.
He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.
An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.
"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.
I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.
We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.
When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.
"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.
"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.
"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.
As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.
We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.
But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.
I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.
When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.
"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.
Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.
"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.
"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.
I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.
"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.
I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.
"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"
"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.
After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.
The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.
"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.
"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."
"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.
I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.
"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.
"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.
"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.
"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.
My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.
"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.
"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.
"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.
"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.
His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.
"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.
"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.
"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.
"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.
"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.
I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.
"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.
We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.
"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.
"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.
"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.
"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.
"Matt!" I say in shock.
"I'm kidding!" He laughs.
. ˖ àŁȘ . ⋆ * .♡ *:.   ʁ ˖ àŁȘ . ⋆ * .♡ *:. ˖ àŁȘ . ⋆ * .♡ *:. ˖ àŁȘ . ⋆ * .♡ *: ˖ àŁȘ . ⋆ * .♡ *:. ˖
Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.
I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.
I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.
He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.
"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.
I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.
"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.
His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.
His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.
"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.
"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.
"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.
He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.
He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.
The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.
In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.
He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.
"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.
I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.
I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.
He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.
He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.
He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.
I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.
"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.
I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.
"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.
Endearingly, of course.
"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.
He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.
Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.
Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.
My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.
"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.
He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.
His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.
Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.
Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.
"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.
"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.
I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.
I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.
I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.
Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.
"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.
He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 
"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 
His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.
That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.
My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.
His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 
"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.
I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.
He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.
He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.
"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.
He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.
He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.
I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.
I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.
I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.
I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.
I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.
"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.
He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.
"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.
It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.
He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.
His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.
"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.
"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.
"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.
"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.
"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.
I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.
"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.
He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.
He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.
"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.
My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.
"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.
"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.
He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.
"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.
"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.
He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.
"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.
"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.
I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.
I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.
"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.
I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.
Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.
He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.
"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.
"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.
"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.
His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.
"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.
He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.
"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.
"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.
Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.
He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.
I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.
Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.
He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.
"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.
He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.
I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.
My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.
"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.
Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.
"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.
"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.
He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.
He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.
I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.
"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.
"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.
He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.
I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.
"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.
I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.
"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.
I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.
He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.
"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.
"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.
"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.
"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.
"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.
'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.
"I plead the fifth!"
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ghouldump · 5 months ago
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hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!
i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld
Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis
ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.
thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL
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“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.
“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?
“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.
“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.
“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.
“Ma chùrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.
“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.
“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.
“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.
“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.
“Sex doesn't fix everything”
“It is a start”
“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.
Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.
Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.
As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.
“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.
“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.
“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.
“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”
“Lestat is
well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.
“Have you tried talking to them?”
“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.
“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.
“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”
“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.
Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.
He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.
“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.
“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.
“I think
I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.
“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.
“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.
“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.
The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.
“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.
“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.
“I could try it if you want,” you offered.
“The radiation will be damaging-
“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.
“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.
“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.
“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.
“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”
Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.
“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.
Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.
“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.
Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.
George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.
“What did you do?”
“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.
“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.
“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.
“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.
“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.
“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-
Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.
“What are you doing here?” you asked.
“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.
“Leave him alone,” you argued.
“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.
“Don't parent me, Louis”
“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.
“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.
“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.
“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.
“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.
“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.
“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.
“I don't even know how far it has brought her”
“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.
“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.
“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.
“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”
“For us?” Louis asked.
“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.
“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.
“Maybe one of us could go in and-
“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.
“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.
“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.
“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.
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As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.
Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.
“Hey, what are you doing-
“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.
Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.
Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.
Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.
“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.
Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.
“Ma chĂ©rie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.
“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.
“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.
“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.
“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.
“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.
“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.
“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.
“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.
“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.
Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.
While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.
“Claudia, you've been reckless-
“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.
“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.
“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.
“Are you okay, mama?”
“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.
“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.
“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.
Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.
“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.
Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.
He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.
Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.
“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.
“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.
“Are you sure you are okay, ma chĂ©rie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.
“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.
“Why would we never be the same?”
“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.
“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”
“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-
“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.
“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.
“Why though?”
“Holding onto the past”
“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.
Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.
“I need to make a quick run-
“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.
“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.
As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.
“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.
“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.
“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”
“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”
“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.
Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.
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“Anything?”
“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.
Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.
“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.
“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.
“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.
“What was she doing?” he asked.
“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.
“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.
“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.
“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.
“Of course I did,” he smirked.
“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.
“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.
“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.
Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.
“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.
“Okay”
“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.
“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.
“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.
“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.
You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.
352 notes · View notes
buckysgrace · 1 month ago
Note
I need enemy!billy to fuck me stupid and call me a slut :(
CW: Mean!Billy, Unprotected sex, hate fucking
You didn't get along with Billy. Not at all. He was arrogant, annoying. And he was determined to make your life a living hell.
He would pull your bra straps in class, flick pencils at the back of your head and stick his foot out to trip you whenever he got the chance. If you passed him in the hall, he'd shoulder check you. He'd tease you about the length of your skirts, regardless if they were short or long.
If you wore makeup, he'd point out that you were trying too hard, if you didn't wear any he'd ask if you had given up. As if he somehow thought you were trying to impress him.
As if.
The issue was that your friend group tended to overlap, just briefly but enough that you often ran into him. It wasn't like Hawkins was very big either, you saw him more often than not. And that was irritating too. He acted like he was something special, like you should care.
"You don't play hard to get, do you?" He asked you, eyebrows cocked as he brought his beer up to his lips again. His dirty blonde hair curled against his shoulders, the wind gliding it across his forehead as you rolled your eyes.
Ignoring him was best, so that's exactly what you did. You pressed your fingers over your skirt, doing your best to prove that it was plenty long enough. It touched your knees and that was what mattered. You didn't need his opinion anyways.
"On your period?" He tried again, taking advantage of how long your friends were taking to return, "Or maybe it's the stick that's always up your ass."
"I do not have a stick up my ass," You replied quickly, insides burning as electricity strummed through your veins. You quickly stood, desperately needing to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, "And you're the one that's easy." You pointed out before you turned, stomping your way back to the house.
"They went on a run for more beer," He chuckled, lazily following behind you, "It's just you and I." He sang, sounding far too cheery.
"You can fuck off now." You told him seriously as you yanked the door open, wishing you had gone with your gut feeling and taken your own car. Now you were stuck with him.
"You don't like talking?" He questioned as he pressed his hand against the door, keeping you from slamming it in his face, "I've heard you like doing other things with your mouth."
"You're disgusting," You told him as the anger pulsed inside of you, "You're not any better." You pointed out, sure that he had already slept his way through half the school.
You gripped the railing, pulling yourself up the stairs. You needed privacy, your own room to sit and breathe in for a while so you wouldn't end up losing your control.
"Where are you going?" He asked curiously, eyes glazing with mischief as you turned back towards him. You turned into the room, trying to slam the door but to no avail. He moved quicker.
"I'm so tired of you," You spit out angrily, pressing your finger roughly against his chest, "You're an asshole." You told him seriously, letting the fire inside of you erupt.
"Oh," He grinned, looking anything but upset as his eyes flickered over your features, "What else?" He teased, cocking both of his eyebrows as he stared at you intensely. He was amused. Playing with you.
"You're not even worth it." You replied as you crossed your arms, not wanting to give him the benefit of seeing your anger.
"Huh," He continued to wear that stupid smirk, making you wish you could smack it off of him, "That's funny coming from you." He added as he rested lazily against the dressed, sticking his arms out in front of him.
"Excuse me?" You asked in surprise, jaw dropping at what he was suggesting. You were nowhere near as bad as what he was.
"You're boring," He said with a shrug of his shoulders, "A doormat. There's not one thing that's interesting about you." He spoke dryly as he watched you.
"Fuck you." You were seething now, pulse racing as a fire of fury burned deep inside of you. You were so angry that you couldn't decide if you were going to scream or cry. Both seemed like a good option, but you didn't want him to see that.
He stalked towards you, lips curled up into the softest smirk as your feet remained stuck to the ground. You weren't fearful of him, you knew that the best he could do was insult you. But you weren't going to back down, not now.
Your eyes flickered over his features, trying to ignore how pretty he looked at the moment. You hated that he was attractive and even more that he knew it. He was cocky, arrogant. It drove you crazy.
You stalled as he came to a stop in front of you, tilting his head as his eyes remained locked on yours. Your heart flipped inside of your chest, trembling as his minty breath tickled against your face.
His lips were hot against yours, intense and warm as his palms fell to the side of your face. You should push him away, shove him back harshly. But you couldn't. Not when something electric spread through your body, tickling your veins.
You felt something in your brain shift, awaking you from your haze as you bit down harshly on his bottom lip. He grunted, his tongue flicking out against your teeth in surprise as he squeezed at your face.
You let him strip you of your clothes without a fight, his hands rough against your skin as he pressed you over the side of the bed. He pushed down roughly between your shoulder blades, your face falling into the mattress and your ass in the air.
"I knew it," He paraded proudly, a smirk evident on his features as you turned to look over your shoulder, "You're no better than the rest of them. Just as eager to spread your legs."
All insults died on your tongue at the feeling of his fingers brushing through your folds, collecting your slick before you felt the head of his cock against your entrance. You gulped, fingertips falling into a fist as he bullied his thick cock inside of your soaked cunt.
You moaned, eyes fluttering shut and jaw dropping as he stretched your slick walls inch by inch. His girth was thick, thicker than you had ever had as he buried himself inside of you.
"S'nice," He teased as his palms fell across the curve of your ass, small moans leaving your lips as you adjusted around him, "So fucking tight. She's leaking for me." He teased as some of his fingers fell to your clit, rubbing your sensitive bud gently.
"God," You breathed out roughly, mind feeling hazy as your eyebrows furrowed tightly together, "Feels good." You squeaked out softly as the pleasure burned deep inside of you, twisting your insides tightly together.
He laughed from behind you, his fingers electric against your skin as he snapped his hips forward. You whimpered at the sensation, the tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves. You shook, your thighs trembling from the pleasure.
He squeezed at your tits, rolling them in his callused hands before he pinched your nipples. You whimpered at the feeling, overwhelmed as he began to slide his cock in and out of your soaked cunt. Everything inside of you was burning in an intense manner before he yanked your body back towards his slick chest.
Your mind felt hazy as you began to rock your body back along the curve of his cock, savoring his thick girth and the curves that decorated his skin.
The sound of your bodies meeting was dirty, filthy as his cock pressed deep inside of you. You craved the feeling, wanted to feel more of him as you continued to grind yourself back against him.
He groaned from behind you, his breath hot against your cheek as he smacked his palm across your thigh. Your cunt ached around his girth as you rocked yourself back against him, feeling a fresh wave of desperation crippling over you.
"You're so stupid, huh?" He teased, eyes flashing with lust as he tilted your chin roughly in his direction, "Already dumb around my cock. Such a dumb little slut." He groaned as you continued to fuck yourself along his cock, whimpering as words failed to come to you.
He spoke to you in a demeaning manner, insulting you. But you didn't care. Something about it made your cunt ache, your clit throb as he dragged you up and down the length of his cock.
Cries of pleasure left your lips, drool sliding down your chin as he continued to roughly snap his hips forward. You were leaking around the girth of his cock, coating his balls in your slick as you greedily grinded yourself back against him.
The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, spurring you on as your fingers fell into two fists. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
"See," He hummed against the side of your neck, his tongue briefly licking at your sweaty skin, "It doesn't hurt to be nice." He whispered gruffly as he kissed at your ear, then biting with enough force to make you yelp.
"I am," You spit out, struggling to breathe as the pleasure burned deep inside of you. He laughed, his sweaty chest rubbing against your back as he dipped another hand between your leg, "Fuck, fuck." You squeaked out, body spasming as he brought a thick finger against your clit.
He bit down on your skin as he continued to fuck into you from behind, his finger rubbing harshly against your swollen clit as your muscles spasmed roughly.
Everything inside of you burned, your mind going blank as the pleasure crashed over you. Your thighs snapped together as you came with a loud cry, whimpering as your cum slid down your thighs.
His groans vibrated across your skin as he continued to roughly grind his fingers against your clit. Your toes curled in awe, bliss overwhelming your cunt clamped down around his girth.
"That's a good girl," He groaned as he pulled out, letting you collapse onto the bed in a pile of good. You whimpered as you turned, watching the way he wrapped his thick fingers around his cock and roughly jerked himself off, "Such a fucking slut." He grunted, leaving no warning for you as he came harshly.
You gasped, blinking roughly as his warm spunk fell against your features. You gaped, feeling it across your cheek, lips and forehead. Some of it dripped across your eyelid, leaving you to quickly wipe it away.
"You're a dick." You hissed, in disbelief to what you had just done. You couldn't believe you had let him back in with no issue. He would think that he was right about everything. Anger boiled in your stomach again.
"And this here?" He questioned, tilting his head as his strong fingers fell against your sore cunt, "Belongs to me."
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 6 months ago
Text
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me (2)
Wandanat x human pet!fem!reader
Summary: Wanda and Natasha have been looking for a pet for some time, but they've had no luck until they meet you, will you be a good fit for their lives?
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI, heavy pet play, human pets, abuse, violence, hurt/comfort
Authors Notes: A little bit of bouncing around with the first few weeks of life with Bumble and her owners
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Adjusting to your new life with Wanda and Natasha had been a challenge. You had been handed back more times than you could count, beaten, battered, broken, and subjected to unmentionable things by previous owners. Every new home started with a glimmer of hope that quickly faded into disappointment and fear. All owners seemed nice at first, but they always tired of you eventually. No one ever kept you more than a week. Your biting was a major issue, and you hadn't spoken in well over ten years. Your last owner had been particularly horrible, and you'd run away in desperation.
Now, as your first week with Wanda and Natasha passed, you found yourself left alone with Daddy more often. Natasha had taken your bed to her office which was a quiet and orderly space, filled with the scent of fresh flowers, a signature of hers. She did this so she could work while keeping an eye on you. So far, you had behaved yourself, but Natasha wasn't ready to let you wander the house unsupervised. You were always kept on a leash when outside to ensure you wouldn't run away. They knew you bit when scared and didn't want to risk you running off.
One afternoon, as you lay on your bed in Natasha's office, you heard the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Your heart leaped with excitement, and you bolted for the office door, pawing at it frantically. The sudden noise startled Natasha.
"What is it, Bumble?" she asked, her voice concerned.
You whined and looked back at her, your eyes pleading. Natasha got up, opened the door, and followed you as you bolted toward the front door. She worried for a moment but soon saw the reason for your excitement as Wanda stepped through the door. You jumped on her, nuzzling into her with fervent affection. Wanda smiled, dropping everything she had bought to wrap her arms around you.
"Hi Bumble! Did you miss Mommy?" Wanda asked, her voice filled with joy.
You showered her with affection, licking her face and wagging your tail furiously. She set you down, and you immediately began nosing through the bags she had brought. One particular item caught your eye—a new bed!
"This is going in the bedroom, Bumble, so you can be close to Mommy and Daddy!" Wanda announced cheerfully.
As Wanda carried the new bed to the bedroom, Natasha watched with a smile, clearly touched by the bond forming between you and Wanda. Wanda gave Natasha a kiss as she passed by, making you feel the warmth of their affection.
You happily followed Wanda into the bedroom. She placed the new bed on her side, ensuring there was enough room for you without the risk of being accidentally stepped on. The bed was even bigger and fluffier than the one in the living room.
You sniffed at the bed, your tail wagging and a smile on your face. Curled up in the soft, inviting cushion, you looked up at Mommy with a sense of contentment you hadn't felt in a long time. Wanda knelt beside you, running her fingers through your hair.
"You like it, Bumble?" she asked softly.
You wagged your tail even harder, the joy evident in your eyes. Wanda's heart melted at the sight, her love for you growing with each passing moment. She leaned in and kissed the top of your head.
"We're so glad you're with us, Bumble," she whispered. "You're part of our family now, and we love you very much."
As you lay there, surrounded by the warmth and love of your new family, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Maybe this time, you had truly found your forever home.
---------------------
Wanda decided it was time to start a gentle training session with you. She gathered your favorite treats—small, savory bits that you had grown to love since your arrival. Wanda knew that training would not only help you adjust but also strengthen the bond between you.
In the living room, Wanda sat on the floor, treats in hand, her voice soft and encouraging. "Alright, Bumble, we're going to do some training today. It'll be fun, I promise."
You watched her with cautious curiosity, still a bit wary from your past experiences. Wanda's calm demeanor and the delicious scent of the treats in her hand, however, piqued your interest.
"Come here, Bumble," Wanda called gently, holding out a treat.
You approached her slowly, your nose twitching at the enticing smell. Wanda gave you a treat just for coming closer, a small reward to show that this was a positive experience.
"Good girl," she praised, her voice filled with warmth. "Now, let's try something simple. Sit, Bumble."
At first, you were unresponsive to the command. The word "sit" held no meaning for you, a foreign sound amidst the many you had heard before. You looked at Wanda, unsure of what she wanted.
Wanda remained patient, repeating the command gently and using her hand to guide you. She placed a treat just above your nose, slowly moving it over your head. Your instinct followed the movement, and as your head tilted back, your body naturally lowered into a sitting position.
"Good girl, Bumble!" Wanda exclaimed, immediately giving you the treat and showering you with praise. Her excitement was contagious, and you felt a flicker of pride.
They repeated the process several times. Each time you sat, Wanda's joy and the delicious treat reinforced the behavior. The word "sit" began to connect with the action and the reward. Your trust in Wanda grew with each successful attempt.
After a few more tries, you started to sit on command without needing much guidance. Wanda's face lit up with pride. "That's it, Bumble! You're doing so well!"
Natasha, who had been watching quietly from the doorway, smiled at the sight. She stepped into the room, her presence always reassuring. "Looks like you’ve made great progress, Bumble," she said, her voice full of praise.
Wanda looked at you, her eyes shining with affection. "You’re such a smart girl, Bumble. I knew you could do it."
You wagged your tail, the sense of accomplishment and the positive reinforcement making you feel secure and loved. This training session was more than just learning commands; it was a step towards healing, trust, and the bond you were building with Wanda and Natasha.
Wanda gave you one last treat and a gentle pat on the head. "That’s enough for today. You did amazing, Bumble. We’ll keep working together, and soon you'll know so many new things."
As you settled back into your cozy bed, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The kindness and patience shown by Wanda and Natasha made you believe that you were truly part of their family. And for the first time in a long while, you felt hopeful about the future.
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You lay on your bed, eyes following Wanda as she moved around the room. She pulled out clothes, getting herself dressed first before turning her attention to you. Your previous owners had never dressed you; all you had known was your collar. But Mommy and Daddy liked to dress you up in cute little outfits. At first, you found them rather itchy, but over the past few weeks, you had slowly warmed up to the idea.
Wanda approached you with a soft, comfortable outfit in her hands. She smiled as she knelt down, her fingers gently guiding you into the clothes. "There we go, Bumble. You look so adorable," she cooed, giving you a pat on the head.
You wagged your tail slightly, feeling a bit more at ease in the outfit. But then, Wanda picked up your leash, and your heart began to race. Whenever a leash was involved, it usually meant you were being taken back to the pet shop. Panic set in as Wanda clipped the leash to your collar.
Sensing your fear, Wanda knelt beside you, her hand soothingly stroking your hair. "It's okay, Bumble. We're just going out for a little bit," she reassured you.
Despite her comforting words, the sight of the leash triggered a deep-seated fear within you. You bolted, the leash slipping from Wanda's hand as you ran to hide. You found a small, dark corner of the house and huddled there, trembling.
Wanda's voice echoed through the house as she searched for you, her tone calm and reassuring. "Bumble, where are you, sweetie? It's okay, you're safe."
Eventually, she found you, crouching down to your level, her eyes filled with understanding and love. "Hey there, Bumble," she said softly, extending her hand but not trying to touch you just yet. "It's alright. We're not going anywhere scary. I promise."
You whimpered, the fear still gripping you tightly. Wanda stayed there, patient and kind, giving you the time you needed to calm down.
"We're just going to the pet store," she explained gently. "You can pick out a toy, something special just for you. Wouldn't that be nice?"
You felt the reassurance in her words and, for the first time in a very long while, an unexpected surge of confidence. Taking a deep breath, you managed to find your voice, hidden for over a decade. A very soft and hoarse sound emerged from your throat.
"Yes, Mommy," you whispered.
Wanda's eyes widened in surprise, tears welling up as she realized what had just happened. She gently cupped your face in her hands, her expression a mix of astonishment and overwhelming joy. "Oh, Bumble," she whispered back, her voice choked with emotion. "You spoke!"
Hearing your own voice felt strange yet comforting. Wanda's reaction made you feel safe, and the warmth in her eyes told you that this was a big step for both of you.
Natasha, having heard the exchange, appeared in the doorway with a look of awe. "Did she just...?" she trailed off, her eyes locking with Wanda's.
"Yes," Wanda confirmed, still cradling your face. "Our Bumble spoke."
Natasha approached slowly, her usual stern demeanor softened by the tears in her eyes. She knelt beside Wanda, reaching out to stroke your hair gently. "That's amazing, Bumble. We're so proud of you."
Feeling the love and encouragement from both women, you nuzzled into Wanda's hand. The fear that had gripped you moments before started to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of belonging.
"Let's go to the pet store," Wanda said softly, her voice filled with pride and affection. "You can pick out anything you want, Bumble."
The pet store was a whirlwind of new sights, sounds, and smells, but with Wanda and Natasha by your side, you felt braver than ever. As you explored the aisles, countless toys and treats caught your eye, but there was one thing that stood out above the rest.
There, at the end of an aisle, was one of the biggest stuffed bears you had ever seen. It was just as big as you, with soft, fluffy fur and a friendly face. Without hesitation, you nosed your way over to it and grasped it in your mouth, your tail wagging furiously.
Wanda chuckled when she saw your choice. "Are you sure that's the one you want, Bumble?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
You looked up at her, the giant bear clutched proudly in your mouth, and gave a little nod. Wanda shook her head with a smile. "I did say anything," she sighed, her voice full of affection.
Natasha laughed softly. "Well, if that's what she wants, then that's what she'll get."
You carried the enormous stuffed bear to the checkout, where the cashier gave an amused smile at the sight of you and your chosen toy. Once it was paid for, you proudly carried it out of the store and into the car, careful not to let it drag too much on the ground.
Back at the house, you eagerly carried the bear inside, its size making you stumble a little but never dampening your enthusiasm. Wanda and Natasha followed, watching you with warm smiles as you navigated the hallways with your new friend.
In the bedroom, you carefully laid the bear down next to your new bed, snuggling up to it immediately. The softness of the bear and the familiar scent of Wanda and Natasha made you feel incredibly safe and loved.
Wanda knelt down beside you, gently stroking your head. "I'm glad you like it, Bumble," she said softly. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."
Natasha joined her, placing a hand on your back. "We're so happy you're with us."
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ash5monster01 · 8 months ago
Text
Piano Man
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Chapter Two - If I Only Had the Words (to Tell You) đŸŽ¶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, mentions of heartbreak, abandonment issues, emotional vulnerability, heart ache, established relationship
Summary: You and Steve have been dating for nearly 6 months, all of which he’s enjoyed. Yet it has been exactly a year since Nancy told him he was bullshit. So even though he desperately wants to tell you he loves you he’s afraid you might say he’s bullshit too.
word count: 2k
One ←→ Three
Masterlist
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Fall 1985
But I only have these arms to hold you
It’s a dark Fall night. The house smelling of popcorn you had popped earlier to watch during a movie. Halloween decorations had been plastered all over Steve’s home, a home that hadn’t been decorated for any holiday in a very long time. You had changed that though, changed him. You made not only this home full, but his heart. Which is why Steve lies beside you in his bed absolutely hating himself for not being able to tell you how he feels. How much he loves you, how much you had saved him these last six months.
You had been there for it all. Cheering in the stands when he graduated, taking your lunch break to visit him everyday at Scoops Ahoy, not getting jelous of his newfound friendship with Robin, taking care of him when the monsters returned and the mall burned down, and even helping him and Robin get hired at the video store where you had worked this entire time. Everytime he thought you'd leave, somehow you were still there, and he appreciated you for every bit of it. So why the hell couldn't he say it?
He knew why. He knew because everytime he looked at the plastic Halloween decorations filling his home he was brought right back to Tina's Halloween party. Right back to that very bathroom where the only girl he ever loved looked into his eyes and told him he was bullshit. It had been a year but he still remembered how devastated he was, how his heart felt as she ripped it straight from his chest. The look in her eyes was seared into his memory, devoid of any emotion but distate blazing in them. He couldn't relive that, wouldn't relive that. Especially with you.
He may have loved Nancy but with you it was different. With you, he knew you were going to be the one. The one person handcrafted specifically for him. A soul designed to match his own in a large and lonely world. Somehow he had found you and now he wouldn't do anything to risk it, he would guarantee it. It had hurt when Nancy said she didn't love him but if you did. Well that would kill him.
"What kind of candy do the kids like?" you ask in the dark bedroom, voice overlapping that of Billy Joel's from the cassette player. You're My Home played softly throughout the room and you wished Steve knew that was how you felt about him. That until now you were pretty sure you had nowhere to belong and now you belonged to him.
"Why do you ask?” Steve hums, hands reaching to run through your hair. He lived for nights like this, where you just laid here with legs tangled together and talked about things practically meaningless.
"Well I want to make them happy, I know how much they love Halloween. Dustin hasn't shut up about it all week and I want something to cheer Mike up. I know how badly they wanted to dress up as The Goonies but with Will and El gone they can't" you tell Steve, hand lacing with his own under the covers. Steve smiles softly at you and how much you care for the very kids he had taken under his own wing.
"I don't know what kind of candy they like, I'm sure whatever is fine. As for Mike, tell him we can be Andy and Brand. Maybe I can convince Robin to be Data or something" Steve tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The image of Robin in the Data costume meant for Will makes you giggle and Steve is pulling you closer, chest brushing against your own.
"You'd give up our Grease costume for that?" you ask, knowing how excited he was to be Danny Zuko and wear his leather jacket.
"Yeah but don't tell them that. They'll get big heads" Steve grumbles, practically hearing Dustin tease him about how much he loves all of them. You giggle against him and Steve warms over, feeling those very words sitting heavy on his chest. If only he had the words to tell you. He knew you were waiting, wondering why he hadn't said them. If you only had time to understand why he struggled with it so much. Everyone he ever loved left, if he said these words outloud he couldn't risk you leaving him too.
"You're the best Stevie" you tell him, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. Steve hums in delight, not allowing you to back away as he pulls you to his lips and kisses you quickly. He knows you love him, you only said things like that to replace those very words. If he would just say it your response would have been 'I love you Stevie'. Instead he gets broad statements that he has slowly come to despise.
"Yeah, yeah, best babysitter ever" he mumbles and you giggle because even though he pretends to hate it you know how much he loves it. How much he loves those kids. If he didn't he wouldn't spend time with them. One of those very kids was his ex girlfriend’s brother and he never let any of those things stop him. He was always there for them.
"Only the best can handle six kids at a time" you tell him and Steve searches your eyes, loving how when you look at them they’re filled with adoration instead of hate. He knows not saying anything won't change your feelings and you will carry on loving him without it. He just couldn't bring himself to say it, the urge never there even though he was practically dying inside to tell you. He wished you knew how hard it is to say.
Sometimes when he finds himself even close he feels silly. I love you seemed too simple to portray the love he had for you. It was so basic, a word your heard on the radio over and over again. Every song as simple as the last. How unoriginal were his words when the radio repeats them every single day? Even with his love for Billy Joel he figures he'll never find a song to sing you. One that perfectly depicted exactly how he felt about you. He doesn't want to sing those tired words again, words he wasted on people who never loved him back.
“You ever think about having kids?” Steve asks, leaning back into the pillow and staring at his ceiling. You admire the soft tufts of his hair on his chest, the way his bicep flexes as he reaches to tuck his hand under his head. He’s so handsome and it should scare you that your boyfriend of only six months has suddenly asked you about having kids and yet you don’t seem to mind.
“All the time” you tell him earnestly, snuggling into his side and grazing your fingers along his sternum, grinning when he shivers from your touch.
“I want to have a whole bunch, make me feel better about being an only child” Steve says, his hand pressed to your back slowly sliding up and into your hair.
“What do you mean, make you feel better?” you ask, lifting your head to glance at the boys face as he continues to be deep in thought.
“I was a lonely kid, my parents never really cared to pay any attention and without any siblings or cousins I was left to my own devices. I think it’s half the reason I was such an asshole in high school” he says, almost wincing at the thought of how many people he had treated like shit over the years just to guarantee he wouldn’t be all alone.
“You were protecting yourself” you say, understanding exactly what he means and Steve nods, eyes glancing down at your form.
“I want my kids to have built in friends and even better, present parents” he tells you and suddenly you find yourself wanting nothing more than to have kids with the boy beside you.
“You’ll be the best Dad Steve, I just know it” you tell him and there are those words again, sitting on his tongue and begging to escape but he just can’t seem to let them go. He hates himself for it, looking away before you see the regret in his eyes.
“I hope so, I just wish my Grandpa was still around to see it” he says, thinking of the only person in his life who ever really liked him for him when he was growing up. The man who had heaven sent you straight to him when he needed you the most.
“He is, don’t you worry about that Stevie” you tell him, eyes fluttering close as you listen to cassette playing in the room. The boombox clicked, indicating the start of a new song. Worse Comes to Worst slowly filling the room.
“Oh worse comes to worst. I’ll get along” you start singing the melody into the dark night air, the fall breeze fluttering in from the window and brushing against the curtains.
“I don’t know how, but sometimes - I can be strong” Steve starts singing along with you and suddenly your both giggling into the night, sharing a love for one another and a love for Billy Joel. The very man that had brought you two together.
“Do you ever get sick of listening to him?” Steve asks and you know he’s asking you about Billy Joel. You shake your head softly against his chest, gazing into those hazel eyes.
“No, he reminds me of you. Makes me feel close to you no matter where I am. Yet I suppose that’s exactly how he makes you feel about your Grandpa” you say, voice humming along the boys ribs.
“Yeah but now he reminds me of you too” Steve admits and you smile before leaning up and capturing his lips in your own. When you had approached the sad boy in the record store you never would have imagined it would bring you here.
"I'm gonna try and sleep" you tell the boy, snuggling closer and allowing your heavy eyelids to close. Steve smiles softly and presses another kiss to your forehead. He knows life goes on and tonight will soon be gone. Another missed opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels. His wished he had the words to tell you but instead he only has his arms to hold you, pulling you closer into him. It's really all you can ask of any man, to be held with such love even if he won't say it.
"Goodnight Rosy" he mutters, 'I love you' he says in his head. He knows disappointment swells in your chest, having been by his side for six months and waiting to know exactly how he felt about you. The only noise in the dark room now is the voice of Billy Joel and your soft breathing. He pulls you close, relishing in the feeling of having you in his arms. When he’s sure you’re asleep he tells you.
"I love you Rosy, I really do. Just please don't give up on me, I promise I want to say it. You deserve to know just how much I adore you but every person I've ever loved has left me. I know you won't but I need time for my head to catch up with my heart. Until then, if I only had the words to tell you..."
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Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @notlilyyyy @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila
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goldsbitch · 8 months ago
Text
Hypochondria
part 2
Fate decided to play a little game and set up a disastrous dinner. Pulling heatwaves back and forth to prove that the path to hell is paved by good intentions.
warning: non-linear time line
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21:10
"I'm sorry, but do you guys know each other?" she asked, with a tone of annoyance barely hidden behind a fake smile.
Lando froze once again, like he had many times that evening. It was not his fault. His soon-to-not-be girlfriend set this seventh circle of hell up. How was he supposed to respond to that?
Y/N hesitantly responded. "No, of course not. I mean, I've only worked with the team here for few weeks anyway."
Her words got buried in the stare down between Anita and Lando.
"Seems like you do, by the amount of questions you're asking" she said directly at Lando, fully ignoring Y/N at that point.
"If I had known her, I would not have had to ask questions, right?" he responded, failing at letting his sassy side dormant.
"Is that why you never ask me any questions? Because you know me?"
He bit his tongue. Lando was trying to be good.
Anita made her signature "I knew it" smile once again, which finally set Lando off.
"One asks when they want to hear an answer."
20:13
He was not late, right? Only thirteen minutes. It still passed. And judging by the quick glance he gave at the table, Anita brought a friend. She does that often, he had no idea why.
Sometimes he felt like a ghost watching his own life. Just sort of floating around, letting things happen to him. It was easy with his status. Almost like racing was the only time he really cared.
As he walked over to the table, lost in his own head, life gave him a pretty big slap to wake him up. Next to Anita sat the one and only, the one who had haunted his dreams and reality for decades by now. Frozen, as if his blood suddenly decided to start flowing in the opposite direction, he blinked as he watched the two share a laugh while Anita showed something to the girl on her phone. Seamlessly, as if they weren't defying the laws of Lando's universe. It was like that one time when two girls he kissed around the same time found him, having no idea what he had done with the other. Strange panic, excitement laced with guilt. It was that, dialed up to infinity.
A day had barely passed since he first saw the mystery girl in real time. Without giving him any time to absorb that information and decide what to do with it. He was getting angry, everything was going wrong. The painful truth hit him - he would fuck it up anyway. Like he always does. Feeling like a dried piece of fruit, he got back to walking over to the table of doomed dreams.
He had no plan going in. Well, no, he did. But he had about five plans that strongly contradicted each other. But god, destiny did not even give him time to breathe.
12:29
Another car flashed unbelievably fast right next to their station. She watched them with awe and slight terror in her eyes. Funny how the desire for a little thrill in the driver's lives makes them willing to risk it all. She understood this desire, but never shared it. Safe and sound on the ground, that's where she was happy.
Happy was probably overreaching. These past few days were flowing in a blur, somewhat missing her.
It's been only a few weeks since she joined the formula medical team. A strange choice frowned upon by almost anyone in her life. She was just out of school, finished her degree and was set up for a perfect career in some decent hospital. But no, the prospect of waking up everyday at the same place was the definition of horror for her. Her university years felt like torture.
Her free spirit caused few issues in her past relationship. House with a picket fence was not something she considered an option. At least not for another ten years or so.
There she was, sarcastic as ever because how else are you supposed to deal with a chronic pain. Well, pain was an exaggeration. More like muscle fatigue, on occasion sharp pains in random places. Nobody knew why or what caused it. This search for answers was what got her to study medicine at the first place. Still, years after, no answers. So she just lived and hoped not to die randomly one day.
This was the downside, the one she shared with the public. What she did not share, as it seemed not that important, was the irregular waves of pleasure she felt, usually late at night. Self induced orgasms, is what she concluded once she finally experienced one in real life. What was there to complain about? Nice way of spicing up the day without even trying. If it weren't for these, she'd probably be more active in seeking out the real deal. Ever since her break up few months ago, it was a full on dry spell.
She was a little bit lost after school. Formula track was an interesting distraction.
/
Heatwave. It hit hard as the sun blazed into the track, as if the goal was to burn the whole area down. There were many instances of people crashing down and having seek medical attention. A busy day for Y/N. She loved it. Rushing around like a busy bee, helping around and chatting with all those interesting people attending the race. Lots of beautiful people. Some extraordinarily.
In front of Y/N was one of those heavenly looking people. Apparently a girlfriend of one of the drivers. Cheerful looking model, who apologized about seven times for being there. Y/N gave her some magnesium, gave her some advice on how much water she should drink and checked her basic stats.
"You're all good. Make to sure to relax, don't drink any alcohol today and you'll be fine," Y/N ended her examination with a smile.
"You're amazing, thank you! Can I snap a photo of you for my story? I'm happy to tag you," she winked, suddenly looking all better now.
"Thank you...Um, happy to take a photo, but no tags. I have enough stalkers already," she tried to get out of the slightly awkward conversation with a joke that did not land.
"I do too, awful, right?" she replied, in full seriousness. Y/N smiled, hoping a new patient would arrive soon while she let her search for the right light. Few too many snaps and fake smiles later, they both sat in the ambulance nearby the track.
"I think you're free to go. Of course, stay here as long as you feel like you need to," Y/N said to her, while filling a general medical report.
The girl shifted, looking more than fine again. In the corner of the eye, Y/N observed how she kept shifting and looking for her phone.
"Is everything all right?" Y/N asked, unable to stop herself.
"Um, I was sort of hoping my boyfriend would come to pick me up here. It would look really good."
Y/N smiled. "I imagine it would also feel good, right?"
"Yeah," she said, not in a tone that would suggest she felt any butterflies. She looked stiff.
Y/N took a deep breath, not sure why her mouth let those words out. "Whatever happens in the ambulance, stays in the ambulance, you know? Just throwing it out there in case you want to share something..."
A weak smile appeared on her face. A glimpse of realness. After few moments of obviously thinking it through, she allowed herself to speak freely. "Promise you won't tell anything to anyone..."
"I swore an oath one time, I think we can apply that to this situation." The medics were always told to provide excellent service to these people. Sometimes, it involved a little psychology as well.
Anita poured it out like an overflowing mug. "I'd love to be with someone who would drop anything to pick me up when I'm sitting in an ambulance. But, I feel like that's not coming anytime soon. He just...He just does not see me."
It was easy for most people to get raw in the closed safe space of an ambulance. Y/N had already heard many similar stories, despite being on this job for only few weeks.
"Does he make you happy?"
"Um...Not really. The sex is good. And the life that comes with him..." she seemed to loose herself in her thoughts.
"You should trust your gut. It's probably pointing you in the right direction," Y/N replied, trying to not push anything.
"You're probably right. He's the best thing around here, so why complain. Thanks! You're really the best. You sure you don't want to be tagged?" she asked once again.
"Sure, go for it," she said, hoping this would finally get the girl out and gave her the instagram info.
She felt an immense wave of embarrassment as she read the comment about how amazing she was.
//
Lando felt a very familiar stroke of humiliation - well, he did not, but he knew who did anyway. Anxiety was not uncommon.
He was done with practice for the day and was staying behind with the engineers to further analyse. He ignored his phone for a while, only finding out his girlfriend had to go to the medics after she came back to the McLaren garage.
His first thought should have probably not been about a wasted opportunity.
"Hey, sweetheart, how do you feel now?" he said while holding Anita's hand and trying to find traces of her feeling unwell on her face.
She felt a bittersweet punch, obviously him checking up on her while she was gone not passing through his mind.
"Yeah, all good now. We have some good medics over here. I took a photo of them, so hopefully they'll get some boost online."
"Oh, can I have a look?" he said with an obvious interest. She smiled, hoping it was because he cared about her. She gave him her phone and saw him freeze for a moment.
Out of nowhere, he was staring into the eyes he longed to drown in. He never got a look this close at her. Not his girlfriend. The awkward smile he understood as if it was his own. It was like being taken over by a tidal wave. He knew everything about her, except her name. It was all really overwhelming.
20:15
Lando should have connected the dots. Anita was a bubbly friendly person, of course she would invite someone who had helped her, over to dinner, in case he himself does not show up due to some unforeseen circumstances. He sat down, without saying a word. "Oh, you're here, amazing!" Anita greeted him with a light peck on the cheek. Lando almost flinched away, physical contact with her suddenly feeling wrong. He kept his eyes down on the table, all of this being a little too much. "Lando, meet Y/N."
Finally. A name to a face. Strong sense of relief and excitement washed over him. Of course it was that name, it suited her vibe completely. The best name. He finally looked up and locked eyes with her for the first time. She was already looking at him and visibly gulped as finally joined her.
These few seconds before the silence got broken were more like hours. They both studied each other like astronomers who get absorbed by the beauty of a distant comet. One they'd only read about and one that's finally passing the sky in their lifetime.
"And Y/N, this is Lando-"
She knew his face, of course she did. But never paid much attention to it, as he served more like a concept, than an actual person to her. Sitting across from him however brought a sense of understanding. No wonder everyone liked him and many people obsessed over him. He was gorgeous, electric. Y/N was grateful for the table that put a physical barrier between them, as the urge to touch him, to test if he was real, overtaking her brain quickly. Like a siren luring her to jump into endlessly deep waters. She had a hard time believing that she would refuse. Her one and only thought was that a person like that is born once in a century.
Except that's not exactly true. But unbeknownst to her, they were soulmates. She was destined to be eternally delusional about him. He was fated to dance around her until the end of time.
"-my boyfriend."
Anita's words cut through like knife. Both of her dinner partners shifted, as if she had splashed them with cold water, and returned back to reality. A great cloud of guilt sat on the fourth empty chair, which the waiters forgot to take away, invisible to Anita, but smiling evilly at Y/N and Lando. And they hadn't even said a word to each other yet.
part 3
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the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months ago
Text
Husband Of The Year
𖀐Pairing: Retired! Soap x Wife! Reader
𖀐Pronouns: She/Her
𖀐Warnings: Smut, fluff, language, Scottish slang, teasing, P in V, fingering, feminism, breadwinner Y/n, male wife Soap, kissing/making out, groping, nipple play, male masturbation,
𖀐Summary: Soap had retired from the Military a few years ago, and when he got married to his wife he started to become the best husband of their lives.
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4:00PM
Y/n was coming home and her husband Soap had just made dinner for the both of them. He poured out some red wine for Y/n and poured some whiskey in a glass for him. He saw headlights pull into his driveway knowing it was his wife.
He goes to the front door, opening it and then seeing Y/n get out of her car and sees her husband.
"John."
"Hi, mo luaidh (my darling)." Soap says, placing his hand on her waist. "Come on," he says guiding her into the house.
Once the door was opened and Soap moves down and removes Y/n's heels from her feet. His hands were gentle on her ankles and his fingers gently caressed her calves up to her thighs.
"What did you do?" She asked.
"Nothing...am I not allowed to cook for my wife?"
"You are allowed to," she smiles at him.
"I always cook for you, mo luaidh (my darling)." He kisses her knee and then stood back up.
"What did you fix?"
"Your favorite," he says, guiding her to the dinning room and showing her the meal he made for her. "Red wine too," he says.
"Thank you, John, I'm gonna change and come back down," she says. Soap nods and sits at the end of the table.
Y/n soon came downstairs in a light purple silk nightgown that stopped at her mid thigh, Soap's eyes widened as Y/n's hair was a bit messy as well, doing it on purpose teasing Soap.
He smirks leaning back in his chair, he stood up pulling her chair out for her to sit, she does and he pushed her closer to the table.
"You look gorgeous, mo luaidh (my darling)." He leans down and kissed her temple.
"Thank you," she smiles at him as Soap went to his chair.
"How was work?" He started to make small talk with his wife.
"A mess," she says.
"How so?"
"We have an employee that calls in almost everyday, her excuse is pulling the 'I'm sick' card when she isn't sick, it's because she doesn't want to work and it's very obvious, she has come to me many times complaining about work, and then saying she'll call in because 'she's stressed out'...stressed out about what? Watching videos on your phone? She doesn't work!" Y/n was an exclusive director for the company she works at.
If she could she would fire this woman, but it's not her call. It was obvious that the woman gets under Y/n's skin a lot. Even the General Manager has an issue with this woman and they've both talked to her and the CEO about her.
Soap usually hears a lot about this woman and how she is basically a problem for the company. All that woman has to do is order products make sure they come in on time and calls people to let them know their products come in, but she never does it half of the time and sales people have to do her job for her, which pisses them off.
"I bet, what number is this?"
"23 and counting," Y/n says annoyed by this woman. Y/n eats her dinner as Soap just listens her her rant and enjoy her company.
"You're lucky you don't have to deal with someone like her," Y/n says.
"Well, I dealt with people like that in the Military."
"Really, how come you never told me?"
"Just never brought it up," he chuckles. "But I can tell you about the one who was released early from duty."
"Tell me!" She says, leaning on her hand to listen to her husband talk.
Soap tells her about a new recruit coming to the Military and two days in was released from duty because of bad conduct making him go to court because of his stunt.
"Yeah, you never told me that," she giggles.
"Again, we've never talked about it," he says. "Not only that it was a while ago, when I went to Russia for a week, I kind of forgot about it till now," he says as he moves his fork to his mouth.
"I see."
"Anything else going on?" He asked her.
"We...fired a girl," Y/n says.
"Fired someone?! What happened?"
"Remember that one girl I talked about when I caught her in the bathroom with a male employee?"
"Oh yeah!"
"Well, she was caught in the male bathroom...masturbating and we called a meeting with her, with all managers and directors and...the CEO decided to fire her."
"H-How the hell did she get into the males bathroom without getting caught going in?"
"I'm not sure, the person who caught her doing it was the director of Marketing, she left the door unlocked and was caught."
"Holy shit-did you bring up the time you caught her?"
"I did in the meeting after we fired her, we discussed the times we caught her and how we hid it till we called a meeting with her," Y/n says.
"Your company is a shit show."
"Oh I know, we try our best to control it, and it seems like a shit show when the CEO leaves for anything, and his assistant tries to control everything when he's gone," she pokes at her food.
"Anyways enough work talk. You done, mo luaidh (my darling)?"
"Yes," she says as Soap stood up taking his and hers plate to the sink. She stood up and walked to her husband. Her arms go around his waist.
"Mo luaidh?"
"I'll be upstairs," she says, walking away and Soap watches her walk away.
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Soap turns off the lights downstairs and walk upstairs through the hallway and at the end of the hall was his shared bedroom with the light on. He pushes the door open seeing his wife still in her silk nightgown, she was on her stomach reading one of her books, she looks over her shoulder and smiles at her husband before putting a bookmark in her book.
She rolls over and look at her husband placing her book on her nightstand.
"Come here," she says with her arms open and Soap crawls on top of her. She kissed the top of his head and he kisses her neck. "John?"
He starts to move down kissing her neck, chest, between her breasts, and then her stomach. His hands groped at her breasts, his hands move under her nightgown and his fingers played with her hard nipple.
She lets out a soft moan as he was gentle with her. Ever since Soap's retirement, he treats Y/n like she is the last thing on Earth, their sex was amazing because of Soap and how he would make her feel, and how he started to figure out what she liked during sex.
They tried new things they've never tried before, or they would do things they both knew they got off.
Soap then moves down pulling at her panties, pulling them down and off her ankles, he tosses them somewhere in the bedroom. He then starts licking his lips and then starts licking between her wet folds.
He kisses between her folds. He spits on her clit and rubs a few minutes earning moans from Y/n, her hand holds his wrist as he then shoves his middle and ring finger inside of her.
Her back arches with the pleasure overwhelming her. Soap smirks at her and then starts licking and sucking on her clit. His tongue flicked against her bud a few times, moans filled the room, he used his free hand and pulled his dick out.
He pumps himself a few times. He loves her moans, her back arching because of the pleasure. She used her hand to help him. He moans letting her do all the work.
He kept licking her and kissing her slit. Her hands pumping him quickly and teasingly slowly down. She'll pick up the pace just to hear him moan and the vibrations from his mouth against her clit made her feel good.
He then moves his mouth and fingers and she whines when he moves away. Her hand wasn't touching him anymore. He pulls his boxers off and then starts aligning himself up at her entrance.
She smiles placing her hands on his neck bring him close to her, lips touching as he first starts out slow and easy, them both rocking back and forth against each other.
Their make out session was soft and easy, but back rough with her biting at his bottom lip as he pulls away and groans when feeling her teeth pull at his lip.
His thrusts were rough and sloppy. The same with his kisses, they were sloppy and messy. Y/n's moans filled the room and skin slapping as well.
Soap kissed her neck, jawline and the back to her lips. Y/n's nails then dug into his muscular back. He groans when feeling the sudden pain digging into his back, but he ignored it, he was on a mission to make his wife feel good.
He looks down at her, her face all red and his ears were filled with moans. Y/n then dragged her fingers from his back to his shoulders and then down to his buff chest.
Y/n felt herself close to coming. She let's out another moan and then tightened around Soap's cock, he moans feeling her tighten around him.
"Come on, mo luaidh (my darling), cum for me," he groans as she did what he asked, she ended coming on his dick, he pulls out and watches as cum leak from her clit slowly.
He bends down and starts licking her clean. Her hands held the end of her silk nightgown lifting it up as Soap was cleaning her up.
The retired Sargent, sits up on his knees smiling down at his wife and picked her up taking her to the bathroom.
He places her on the sink and starts a bath. Making sure it was hot and then placed some bubbles in the bath, Y/n removes her silk nightgown placing it on the floor and Soap picks her up and placing her gently in the bath.
"I'll be right back," he says, kissing her lips and heading out of the bathroom, she could see him snatch a clean pair of boxers and hurried to put them on.
She messes with the bubbles in the tub and cupped them in her hands and placed it back on the bubbles. Soap comes back with two glasses and the red wine he poured before.
He gives her one and then held the other, he leans on the side of the tub to watch his wife, his head resting on his arm, she talks to him and he listens.
"Do you want wash you?" He asked.
"Yes," she says as he grabs a loofa and puts her body wash on it. He starts to gently rub it on her arms, shoulders, she gently stood up. He then washed her stomach, back, between her legs, thighs and butt.
----------
30 Minutes Later
Y/n was on the bed with Soap holding her against his chest as she reads her book and Soap was watching TV on a low volume so Y/n could read her book.
She flips the pages with one hand and then other played with his arm hair as his left hand rested on her thigh and the other resting against her stomach and that hands rested close to her butt and he gently tapped her side to a random beat.
She closes her book, placing it on her nightstand and then looking at the TV to see what Soap was watching. Soap has been on a kick on watching old documentary's about old military planes, and wars that had happened in the past.
"What's this one about?" Y/n asked.
"Old planes and Vets stories about war," he says.
"Oh," was all she said as she cuddled up to Soap closing her eyes and falling asleep.
----------
Next Morning (6:00AM)
Y/n had woken up to her alarm, groaning as she turns it off, she rolls over to face Soap, he was big spooning her, his eyes closed and he looks peacefully sleeping.
Y/n kissed Soap's lips and got out of his buff arms, she gets up like normal, brushing her hair, and starting her shower getting in and washing her body and hair.
As the water run, Soap wakes up and hears the water, he rolls over seeing the bathroom light on and the door cracked trying not to shine the light on him as he slept.
He stretched up and got out of bed. Heading downstairs to then make tea for Y/n and himself some as well, Soap doesn't drink tea as much as Y/n, she only drinks it to be calm before she works.
Y/n walks downstairs seeing her husband making the hot tea, she was in a towel around her body and another holding up her hair. Soap smiles seeing her.
"How was your shower?" He asked.
"Fine," she yawns as she was handed her mug taking a small sip. Soap walks behind her placing his hand on her hip kissing her temple as she sipped from her mug again.
"Go get dressed and I'll make you some breakfast," he says as she walks upstairs getting dressed and taking her damp hair out of the towel.
Soap had made her some waffles and she ate before going back upstairs to do her hair, make up and grabbing her purse and heels.
"Okay, I'll see you later, John."
"I'll see you, later mo luaidh (my darling)." He kissed her lips and he watched her leave for her work.
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cobaltperun · 11 months ago
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Lost (14) - Collide
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 6.3k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-Where do we go from here when they're tearing down our lives?-
The steaming mug of hot chocolate, a warm blanket, and another night all alone. If only there weren't so many memories tied to this house she would have moved somewhere, at least to an apartment or something. It would be more manageable, that was for sure. It was just too hard to think of anywhere else as her home. Even now that she had a second chance in you.
In a way, at the very least.
You've said it once, you're not Zack. You're still the only family he had beside her. At least as far as the family that accepted him goes. So, in a way, you were the only living reminder of him. You made her so happy when you visited her. And you brought the most wonderful, loving girl, with you. Watching you happy, in a healthy, wonderful relationship with someone as kind and loving as Tara, even after everything the girl went through, made Susan feel at peace.
Her phone suddenly rang. Maybe it was you, she rarely got calls from anyone else, but you made sure to call every now and then. Then she'd get to talk to you, Tara, and sometimes even Sam. Now that she thought about it, she had an unread message from you, she got it while she was at work and then it slipped her mind to read it later. That was probably why you were calling. So, Susan picked up her phone.
"Hello, Susan," she didn't recognize the voice. Maybe it was one of the patients from the hospital, or a doctor or a nurse she rarely talked to.
"Hello, I'm sorry, but who is this?" she took a sip from her mug, the warmth easing her loneliness as she waited for the answer.
"Oh, no one important. I was actually calling because of Y/N, she told me you are her half-brother's mother and that if anything happened, I could call you," Susan immediately sat up straight at that. No matter what, no matter how close you and Susan got over the past year you did not share that information with anyone other than your closest friends. The fact that whoever this man was knew about Zack was alarming.
"Did something happen to her?" she wanted to hang up and call you right away.
"Not yet, no, but it could. So, what's your favorite scary movie?" Susan, having read the books after what happened to you, recognized the line. She remembered the state you and Tara were in when you came to her house.
If what she heard was true she was done for. The killer was with her. So, she hung up, quickly opening the messages. She didn't even get to type a single letter before a knife stabbed her back. She cried out, dropping her phone. The piercing of her flesh continued as the figure of a masked monster in black robes came into her line of sight. The stabs would have been enough, but the killer made two deep cuts on the crooks of her arms. She'd bleed out slow enough for it to hurt, but quickly enough so that no one could help her.
And then the monster left her, lying on the floor, with Zack’s gloves in hand.
She could barely move her arms, but the adrenaline still pumping through her veins helped her reach the phone. She managed to type exactly three letters as her vision became blurry and hit send. She wouldn't be found until two days later when a neighbor noticed her doors were left wide open.
Thousands of miles away, all the way in New York you were woken up by your phone. You groaned, reaching over to your nightstand, and blindly grabbing your phone to look at the message. You smiled. Leave it to Susan to respond with only one word.
"Mhmm, Y/N," Tara complained sleepily as she hid her face from the light coming from your screen.
"Sorry, Love,” you kissed the top of her head as an apology. “It's Susan. I'm guessing she's down to spend Thanksgiving with us," you couldn’t help but pull her a bit closer when you felt her smile against your neck. It was Tara's idea, really, because not only did you have spare room, but Susan was important to you, and Tara liked her a lot as well, so it was a logical suggestion as far as Tara was concerned. Once you heard that you went and invited Susan to spend a week in New York, since you hadn't seen each other ever since you came to New York.
Her response? Fun. You figured that was a 'yes' and sent her a thumbs up, which she immediately read. No response came, but you expected that, as Susan wasn’t too big on texting. You'd just call her after you figure out a proper plan for that week. Which would have to wait, because you had another exhausting week ahead of you.
~X~
Nine, god damn, hours. You felt like you were just about ready to kick Thomas' ass for just dropping a two-week-long vacation on you out of the blue. If only it was your vacation.
So, instead of canceling his classes you were replacing him. Instead of doing the morning sessions and the second afternoon training session, which would mean 4 and a half hours at the gym, you were stuck with Thomas' sessions as well. Which basically meant you were at the gym from 6:45 am to 10:15 a.m., then again from 11:45 a.m. to 3:15 p.m., and finally from 4:45 to 8:15 p.m. So, nine hours of training people and an hour and a half to keep the gym running. By the time you came home after the third training session, you were too exhausted to do anything. And you meant anything! Cooking? Cleaning? Almost all of your chores were now split between Sam and Tara and you. The best you could do was wash the dishes or do some light cleaning, and you were done.
Tara hated it even more than you did. You tried, you really did, you'd go back home after each double training session, and you'd buy flowers, things like that, but it didn't help much. You loved how needy Tara was, how she wanted to spend time with you, to be held by you. Right now, her neediness proved to be a double-edged sword.
You tried to watch a movie with her, but you fell asleep. Tara understood that. She did not understand how you fell asleep last night while she kissed your neck. She wouldn't even look at you or speak to you when you dropped by after morning sessions.
That's how you ended up right where you were now. Parked near the building where Sam’s therapist worked. It was a busy night, which was to be expected, people were partying and wearing costumes, and the usually busy streets got even more hectic. At least the night was clear, though maybe a bit ominous, or maybe you were just too tired. You would have liked to be at home, with Tara, apologizing for last night, but you were waiting for Sam instead, because you had a feeling it would be better if Sam was with you when you came home. You couldn't be more thankful when she came out of the therapy much sooner than she was supposed to.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," you greeted the moment Sam got into the passenger seat. Then you noticed the look on her face, that defeated look that told you she opened up a bit and it didn't go well. "Rough therapy?"
Sam looked at you, her eyes softening as she noticed just how tired you looked. "Rough day?"
You turned the engine on, loving the way the car came to life. "You have no idea," you sighed, just ready to get home, take the coldest shower possible to keep yourself awake, and hopefully make up for the last night's inability to stay awake. At least driving wasn't an issue. You never bothered to seek an explanation, but whenever you were driving you were completely awake, no matter how little sleep you had, or how tired you were. Step out of the car, sleepy, behind the wheel, completely awake. Maybe it was as simple as being responsible and not wanting to get into an accident, frankly, you only cared that you could drive and not worry about falling asleep.
"Tara?" Sam guessed, though that probably wasn't difficult, you saw how cranky Tara was this morning. Sam must have seen it as well.
"Uh... let's just say I fell asleep when I shouldn't have," you blushed, hoping that Sam wouldn't question it further.
"You've been exhausted ever since Thomas left, I'm sure Tara understands that," Sam did not avoid further questioning. Even though she was mostly trying to comfort you.
"Yeah, not when you fall asleep while your girlfriend is kissing your neck," you grumbled through clenched teeth. You didn't need to turn to look at Sam, you could feel the incredulous look on her face. In your defense, Tara was warm, and lying on top of you, and you were tired, and the kisses felt really comforting and good. Comfy and sleepy was a combination not even you could beat.
Sam suddenly began stifling a laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just funny," well, you'd probably laugh about it once Tara gets over it. "You two will be fine, Tara just misses you, you know?"
You nodded, not taking your eyes off the road. You knew better than anyone how Tara was, you knew how much she missed you, and she knew you missed her too. She was just being salty at the moment. "I know, Sam, I miss her too," you couldn't help but smile, it was just a small lover quarrel, not even that, really, since you didn't have the capacity to participate.
"I have an idea," you were vaguely aware of Sam pulling out her phone. Was she calling Tara? Probably.
No one answered though and you were suddenly reminded of what happened roughly four months ago.
"You know you're supposed to pick up when I call," Sam's concerned voice made you even more worried. "I got out of therapy early and Y/N is driving me back home. I was thinking we could cook dinner tonight. I mean, if that's what you'd like," she left the message and sighed.
"She probably, ah, I don't even know, maybe her phone is charging?" you were grasping at straws, but you weren't ready to think of the other options just yet.
"Or she's at a party, Omega something," Sam buried her face in her hands, trying her best to not get frustrated right away.
"What party?" shit, you were starting to think falling asleep last night was the worst possible timing, ever.
"There's a frat party tonight, she really wanted to go, but I begged her not to," the arrangement you and Sam managed to get Tara to agree to, remained unspoken.
After Tara first disappeared and went to a party the three of you came to an agreement. She could have her parties, as long as you or Sam were with her. Mindy or Chad wouldn’t do, Tara refused to listen to them, she refused to stop unless you or Sam made her stop, and as worried about Tara as they were, they didn’t exactly want to go to parties to babysit her. You wouldn't stop her from having fun or drinking until she reached a very specific point between drunk and no longer aware of what was happening.
You hated just watching over her, but you tried to step in sooner exactly one time before she got drunk. The next time there was a party Tara went and disappeared again, so you just figured it was better to stay by her side and make sure she was fine than to drive around the whole damn city looking for her.
"I don't know how to reach her, Sam," you confessed, the mental toll of watching Tara cope in one of the worst ways possible was slowly getting to you. You'd do anything to get her to stop drinking like that, but she just wouldn't listen to you. "Should I just drive straight to that party?"
Sam thought it over. "Let's check if she's home first."
You both knew it was extremely unlikely, but you still hoped.
You hoped even as Sam unlocked the apartment, but you couldn't hope once it was clear Tara wasn't there. You leaned against the wall, completely awake now. "She didn't even bring her taser," you pointed out, huffing as you began pacing the apartment. You knew you should already be heading out to find Tara, but you just needed a moment.
"I'll go get her, rest for a bit," you wanted to argue when Sam said that, but honestly, you just felt relief. "I'll call you if she's not at that party."
"Thanks," you just let her, not sure how drunk Tara would be, or if you were ready for another hunt all over New York, so if you could delay it even for ten or fifteen minutes, you'd accept that opportunity. You sat down on the sofa as Sam left the apartment.
"How the fuck am I supposed to help you, Tara?" you leaned back against the sofa, letting your eyes close just for a moment.
~X~
She was annoyed, not nearly as drunk as she would have liked and the party was running out of alcohol. You were working, and you were covering Thomas’ classes as well, so you were exhausted. Tara understood that, hell, she was thankful that your job functioned the way it did, because you normally had plenty of free time. And you had every other weekend off, seeing as you’d work one weekend, and Thomas would take the other. You had enough time to study, attend most of the classes and still had time for her.
If she wasn’t drunk, she’d admit she overreacted this morning, that as strong as you were you weren’t superhuman and that all the exhaustion just caught up with you last night. That it wasn’t what you wanted, but you just couldn’t fight it, and she knew what kind of effect she had on you, she knew you got really comfortable when she was on top of you.
She’d apologize tomorrow, because she knew you’d get worried if you come home and see she wasn’t there. She still had at least half an hour left until Sam was done with her therapy, and if she was lucky the two of you would take your time coming home, which would let her go back home and pretend she was asleep, so maybe she could avoid making you worry. Neither you nor Sam would know she was at a party, and everything would be just fine.
She had enough time to find a few more drinks, so when a guy that clearly wanted to fuck her offered her drinks, she figured she could just grab the drinks and go back to Mindy and Anika. She’d get drinks, he’d get disappointed, but she wouldn’t have to deal with him too much. At least that was her drunken reasoning.
~X~
When your eyes opened again it was because of your phone ringing. "Did you find her?" you answered without quite looking at who was calling you, it had to be Sam, and you immediately got up, ready to get the car keys if Sam didn't find Tara.
"I did. She's pissed though, she should be at the apartment in a minute or two," Sam warned you.
"She's pissed? Brilliant! Just perfect!" you hung up just as you yanked the doors open and saw Tara climbing up the stairs. You noticed they were all dressed like they went to some costume party, which, given it was Halloween wasn’t much of a surprise. Tara looked like she was dressed up as a pirate.
"Don't you even start!" she yelled the moment she saw your mouth opening.
You felt really close to snapping as you stepped outside the apartment to meet Tara. "Oh, I'm sorry, did your party get interrupted?"
You could see she was going to walk by you and get inside, but the mocking in your tone made her halt right next to you. "It did! And you know what? I was about to hook up with a guy!" if you were any less tired, any more attentive to the way her eyes immediately filled with regret when she said that, then maybe you would have been able to control your temper.
Not tonight though. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time you were with someone while loving me, now, would it?!" a low blow, reminding Tara of her relationship with Amber, but you were reaching your limit.
Tara recoiled as if you slapped her. "Do not bring Amber into this, Y/N!"
“Then do not make me worry and say you were going to cheat!” you fired right back, by this point you were exhausted by Tara’s behavior, by her need to go to the parties and get blackout drunk.
"Hey, come on, this isn't like you," Chad tried to get between you two.
"Stay out of this," you warned, but Tara was already heading inside.
"No need! We're done talking!" she yelled while marching to your room.
"Oh, no, not this time, Tara!" you went after her, catching the doors just as she was about to slam them shut. She didn’t even try to close them, even as angry as she was she just scoffed at you and let you come in after her.
She turned to you the moment you closed the doors. "What do you want, Y/N?! I'm living my life, you hear me?! it's mine, not ours!" she screamed, pushing her finger into your chest. She took a step back, puling the headband she had on off and tossing it aside, she just began changing out of her costume, her breathing getting faster as she pointed at you again. "You're possessive, you won't let me go to any party alone; you've become even more controlling than Amber!"
You threw your hands up in the air, just for a moment looking anywhere but at Tara. "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you had an ounce of self-control! Or do I need to remind you how I found you the two times you were at a party on your own?!"
"What of it? I ended up in a bad place twice, and? Surely, I've run out of all the awful things that can happen to me by now!" she was having difficulty breathing and the red haze that had overcome you faded away, the telltale signs of her needing her inhaler made you set your anger aside for now.
"And if you haven't? If someone takes advantage of how drunk you are?" you stopped shouting, even though some of the anger was still there.
Tara just shrugged, her breathing uneven as she clearly began struggling, but refused to use her inhaler, not that it would help her right now. "Add it to the list, I guess," you stepped away from her and went outside the room. "Y/N!" she gasped your name but didn't come after you, a coughing fit kept her in place.
You weren’t leaving her; you just didn’t get to take the new inhaler out of your bag. Just goes to show how hectic the past week was. You came back to the room to see Tara leaning against the table in your bedroom, her hands trembling slightly. You unpacked the inhaler you got a few days ago and took her hand gently. "Your current one ran out, right?" you pulled her down with you on the bed and brought the inhaler to her mouth. "I can't, Tara, I can't take it if something happens to you again," you could only hope she would finally hear you. Judging by the way she clung to you, gripping your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, a tiny bit of you hoped she would hear you this time.
"You're not angry with me?" she asked, tired of shouting as well, tired of being angry, of not having you around since you started covering Thomas’ part of the training.
You almost told a lie as you smoothed out the few strands of her hair that were out of place now that she took the headband off. "I am, but I'm more worried about you than I'm angry at you," especially when her asthma gets triggered. At that point, any argument can wait, and you guessed those pauses also made both of you calm down.
"I wasn't really going to hook up with anyone. I just wanted, I don't even know what I wanted. To make you angry, or to hurt you, I guess? I regretted it the moment I said it," she confessed, tentatively climbing into your lap for comfort and only relaxing when you wrapped your arms around her waist.
You took a deep breath, feeling the tension between you two dissipating with every moment. Tara was drunk, and pissed that Sam just showed up at the party, and something probably happened there as well that caused this much anger, so, given last night, she wanted a payback, and so she said something she knew would make you angry. “We’ll be fine,” you muttered, leaning your head against her shoulder, you weren’t completely fine, but you would be.
"I'm not messed up," she whispered into your ear, and you pulled back to look at her. The desire to continue what she started last night was more than evident in her eyes, but you shook your head.
"No, you are. You are still drunk," you weren't about to do anything with Tara while she was even slightly drunk.
Tara responded with a huff and pulled back from you as much as she could while still sitting on your lap. "Fine, fine," she knew better than to argue with you on that.
A knock on the doors caught your attention and Tara got off your lap so you could go and open the doors.
"Oh, thank God you're not fighting anymore," Anika said as soon as she noticed neither one of you was frowning.
"Told you love birds would be fine," Mindy patted her on the back.
Chad coughed. "More important things people," he reminded the two and you tilted your head to the side. "You need to see this," he pointed toward the TV, and you felt a shiver run down your spine due to the worried look on his face.
You and Tara went into the living room, Tara sat down while you leaned onto the sofa as all of you listened to the news. You couldn't believe the nightmare was starting again. Someone was brutally stabbed and a Ghostface mask was found at the scene of the crime. Even worse than that Mindy recognized the names and from the look on Tara's face so did she.
"You know them?" you asked as you sat down next to her. She immediately reached for your hand, grounding herself before she could start panicking.
"Barely, not that it matters, this isn't about us," you could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that it actually was about all of you.
That's when Sam came in, followed by a guy you came across every now and then. Danny? Tara thought something was going on between Sam and him, but she didn't have proof and you weren't about to ask Sam if she wasn't going to talk.
The moment Sam figured out what was going on it was like someone flipped a switch. "Pack a bag, we leave in ten," you and Tara just looked at each other before Tara jumped to her feet.
"Sam! Wait, Sam!" Tara went after her into the kitchen.
"We're leaving town," Sam ordered, not even for a moment considering Tara's objection.
You walked in, hugging Tara around her waist from behind to calm her down, she just had an asthma attack and you wanted her to feel safe. "Sam, you know running away didn't work last time," sure, you came back to Woodsboro willingly, but Amber and Richie were going to use Chad, Mindy, and Liv as bait anyway.
"It'll work this time," Sam picked up the biggest knife you had and went back to the living room.
Tara got out of your hug but began holding your hand. "Hold on, let's talk for a second. 'Cause this might not have anything to do with us," Tara followed after Sam, pulling you along and trying to reason with her.
"Are you serious?" Sam demanded, finally turning to look at Tara.
"It's a big city! It's Halloween. Everybody's wearing masks! You don't know-"
"Tara! Tara, this isn't a coincidence! You knew him!" Sam interrupted.
"Barely," Tara leaned back into you, prompting you to once again place your arms around her waist.
"Chad, Mindy, back me up," Sam turned to the twins, purposely not looking at you for support.
"I mean it is a bit..." the expression on Chad's face showed he agreed with Sam.
"Too close to home," Mindy basically finished for him.
"Sam, we finally got our lives together here," you took Tara’s side, yes there were issues, yes, Tara wasn't handling things properly, but you were building something here.
"We'll do that again, somewhere safer," Sam assured you, not even wasting a second to push back against any arguments in favor of staying.
"So, you're just making the unilateral decision to abandon my and Y/N's college education and flee the fucking state!" Tara clenched her fingers around your hands. The weaker grip in her left hand nearly made you reconsider.
"Y/N," Sam turned to you, looking for support. "Please don't take Tara's side just because it's Tara."
You shook your head. "Sam, I'm not going to run every time there's a hint of danger. If we do that we'll always be on the run, I won't live like that and if Tara doesn't want that-"
"Which I don't," Tara quickly chimed in.
"Then I won't let you force her to live like that," you could feel Tara's anxiety rising as Sam remained silent. It felt a lot like back when you decided you’d take Tara to Sacramento, and you and Sam briefly went back and forth on where to go and if Richie should go with you. Tara didn’t want to choose between you and Sam, she didn’t want to see you two arguing, and you didn’t want that either, but Sam needed to know she couldn’t make this decision for Tara. No one but Tara could make it.
And then the phone rang, and Tara nearly jumped in your arms. She wasn't the only one affected, everyone was put on edge by Sam's phone ringing.
Sam went over to the phone and rejected the call. "It was Gale," she said, which wasn't a good sign. Especially since Gale's book didn't exactly make any of you the fans of the reporter.
"Why did everyone freak out when her phone rang?" you almost forgot Ethan was there.
"You gotta keep up, my dude," Anika just told him.
Sam's phone rang again, this time from an unknown caller, and though anxiously she still picked up. "Yes?"
There was a pause for a few moments. "Yes, it's me," Sam replied to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Okay, okay, I'll come," she hung up. "It's the police, they want me to come down to the station," she didn't waste a moment and picked her jacket up to leave.
Tara just looked at you. There was no need to talk, you grabbed your jackets and you turned to Chad. "You guys be careful," you went after Tara, grabbing the keys on the way. You considered driving, but the police station wasn't that far, and it was late, it was Halloween and people were partying, so maybe walking was a better option. Not to mention you were still tired, and maybe you didn’t have it in you to drive to the station and back as you were.
You caught up with Tara at the bottom of the stairs and she gave you a quick, though a bit uncertain, smile. "We'll be fine, Love," you quickly leaned down to kiss the top of her head and then she led you outside, after Sam.
"Sam, slow down," Tara called after her sister.
"Tara, no, get back inside, lock the doors," Sam immediately rejected the idea of Tara coming with her.
"Are you serious? Now you don't want to stick together? Besides, I have Y/N," and both you and Sam knew Tara would feel better if you were there for both her and Sam.
"You heard the boss, Sam, don't fight this," you offered Sam a cheeky smile and she just shook her head.
"Fine, let's go," she gave in and motioned you and Tara to follow her.
~X~
You were about ten minutes away from the station when Sam's phone rang again, and you saw that the caller was... Richie?
"The fuck?" Tara said exactly what you thought.
"I never deleted his contact," you raised an eyebrow at that. Really, Sam? "This is coming from his number."
"Don't pick that up," Tara told her, but you were already tuning the conversation out, instead looking around the three of you.
Whoever was behind this now couldn't appear out of nowhere. You couldn't see anything suspicious behind you, but you felt Tara quickly grabbing onto your forearm. You turned around and saw a man approaching, holding a phone, so you stepped in front of Tara and Sam, ready to act the moment he made any move.
There was no need for that, the man just walked by the three of you.
The police sirens put you on edge as you made sure Tara was close to you.
"You shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, asshole," just as Sam said it you noticed a movement to your right.
And there it was. The familiar robe and mask coming almost out of nowhere, hidden by the darkness of the night and shadows. You pushed Tara toward Sam and stepped between the two and the reoccurring nightmare. You did a quick jab followed by a hook, sending the figure into the bicycles behind him.
Something felt wrong. He fell too easily. As if he decided to fall. "Run!" you ushered Tara and Sam, not that you needed to as Sam was already getting Tara away from the could-have-been fight.
You turned back when you caught up to them, to see the Ghostface chasing after you.
"Y/N?!" you saw fear in Tara's eyes, the confusion caused by you of all people running.
"Something's different! I don't know what, but it just feels wrong!" you liked to think years of fighting gave you a good sense of what someone can and can't do in a fight and you didn't like one bit what happened right there.
Your words only increased Tara's fear. "Help! Please!" She cried out, hoping maybe someone would hear her.
"In there!" Sam pointed at a bodega just around the corner.
The three of you ran in, with Tara and Sam cutting the line and pleading for the clerk to call the police. You just stood with your back turned to them, waiting for Ghostface. You saw him at the door, looking much bigger than you. Tara, probably still thinking about what you just told her, grabbed onto your forearm, and tried to pull you back. "Please, Y/N," you glanced back, seeing the fear in her eyes. That one moment was enough for everything to go wrong. Ghostface quickly killed two men, tossing them aside and advancing toward the three of you.
"Sam! Don't!" judging by Tara's screams you figured Sam was pulling her back.
You relaxed, easily shifting into a fighting stance. As wrong as it felt, you knew there wasn't a way out without a fight. Besides, if you could end this now, you'd have only one more Ghostface to worry about.
"Hey!" the man working at the bodega shouted and raised a shotgun, firing it at Ghostface. As the Ghostface vanished behind the shelves you couldn't help but wonder why the man didn't just shoot first. You know, without warning the clearly armed and dangerous masked individual?
"Go out the back!" he told the three of you.
Well, you weren't about to waste that.
"Thank you!" Tara said, but as the three of you got to the back doors you realized it was locked. "Shit! Keys! We need your keys!"
The man turned to give them to her and Ghostface took his chance. Stabbing the man and taking the shotgun, shooting the man that tried to help you.
The three of you ducked behind shelves and you glanced at Tara. You've fought Ghostface before. You were afraid before. But back then you were afraid for Tara. Now you were afraid of the killer. There was nothing you could do against a shotgun. There was no way you could get shot and survive, let alone continue fighting. There was no way Tara or Sam would survive and just for a moment, between fight, flight, or freeze, your body chose to freeze.
Ghostface shot the freezers behind you, shattering the glass. Sam began moving again, trying to crawl to safety, trying desperately to keep Tara alive. Tara, however, wouldn't move an inch without you.
Another shot knocked a bunch of cans down, halting your escape and making Tara squeeze your hand. That snapped you out of it and you pulled the two of them back toward freezers. From the looks of it, you did that just in time as Ghostface came to the side you were on mere moments ago. You looked at Tara as she silently cried and moved, staying crouched as you moved toward Ghostface. You'd go around the shelves and try to take him down from behind.
Your heart hammered in your chest when you turned around the corner and saw a shotgun right in front of your face. You weren't fast enough to get it out of the way, no, you were allowed to grab it and lift it up. "Run!" the last time you screamed as loud as you just did Amber was holding Tara at gunpoint.
"Y/N!" Tara screamed your name, but you didn't look at her, you looked at Sam.
"Take Tara and run, damn it!" you yelled, pushing the shotgun up to make sure Ghostface couldn't shoot any of you. You couldn't focus on anything else, not on the screaming or Sam's frantic attempts to get Tara out of bodega, you could only focus on the fight. You felt a small sense of relief, knowing that as long as you kept holding the shotgun Ghostface wouldn't be able to let go of it either.
The moment you vaguely heard the doors opening you yanked the shotgun down and kneed the man in his stomach. There wasn't even a grunt, but he tossed the shotgun away so that neither of you could use it. You let him, using the small opening to land an uppercut to the jaw, followed by several hard and fast punches to the face. You pushed him into the counter, continuing the assault. It felt wrong. It felt like your punches barely affected him. He was moving, reacting to your punches, but it was too much, it was as if he was moving on his own, and not due to your hits.
A hard hit to the side knocked all the air from your lungs and he easily pushed you back. He slammed his shoulder into you, taking you to the ground. You gasped for air, barely having time to put up a guard before a fist could connect with your face. You recognized this feeling all too well. You were in this exact position plenty of times. You raised your elbow, hitting his jaw and getting up just enough to put him in a chokehold.
Another hit to the side nearly made you let him go, but you squeezed harder, trying to find a way to snap his neck despite the mask. The third hit to the side loosened your hold enough for him to get on his feet and slam you back down on the ground. You felt like everything was spinning as he repeated the same motion again. Lifting your entire body up and slamming it back down on the hard floor. By now you were too shaken to even hold onto him, your body was limp in his hold, and you knew there was nothing you could do unless you had at least a bit of time to recover from the impacts.
And then you went flying, right through the glass and onto the pavement. You skidded across the pavement, unable to stop until your back hit the fire hydrant and you gasped as the impact knocked what little air you still had in your lungs out.
"Y/N!" that was Tara's voice. Shit. She didn't get far enough.
"Run, you idiot," you wheezed as you rolled over, trying to get on your hands and knees. You watched as Ghostface stood there, but he wasn’t approaching you. He didn’t need to, you were still at his mercy.
The police arriving saved your life.
Tara was immediately with you, yet you barely heard her saying your name, you barely felt her worried touch. A single thought went through your mind as the police officers scattered around the perimeter and all you could see was a mask on the store's floor. 'I can't beat him.'
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yoitsjay · 6 months ago
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Heard you were looking for requests. *places down manilla folder* If you're comfortable with it. Male Reader x Crosshair on Pabu before the timeskip after Crosshair lost his hand, trying to have a "normal" day out going to the farmers market or whatever the star wars equivalent of them are.
Have a good day *slides off while shooting finger guns*
I love you.
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A Little Bit Of Normal
Pairings: Crosshair x Male!Reader
Summary: trying to live normally now was harder for Crosshair after all that happened... at least he has you by his side, the only normal thing he needs.
Warnings: a bit of angst, ptsd probably, crosshair loves you and won't admit it. Gay
Word count: 1,271
It had only been two days
Two days of nightmares, seemingly endless.
Two days of crosshair waking up in bed with bloodshot eyes and deep bags underneath, showing the signs of zero sleep.
Two days of Crosshair leaving his room in your hut, slinking into your bed to find comfort in your warmth.
He hadn’t left your bed since the middle of the night last night, and now it was edging on the afternoon of the third day. But he was sleeping, that much you counted. Hunter, and the rest of his brothers were worried.
Echo had sent you messages asking about Crosshair because he had left again to do missions with Rex, and Tech (who’s thankfully alive in all our minds) was doing research on what could be the issue.
However, you and Hunter settled on one thing. So after making something to eat for yourself and Crosshair, you bring it into your bedroom, setting the meal on the table before you gently tug the blankets, which stirred Crosshair awake. Waking a man with what Tech diagnosed to be PTSD was a difficult task, and when you did wake up Cross you would always take two steps back, waiting until he registered where he was before you took two steps forward and sat beside him on the bed.
“You slept for longer today Cross, I'm proud of you.” You spoke softly, offering him a glass of orange juice. He reached out for it with his right arm, quickly realizing that he had no hand to grab it with. Crosshair frowned for a moment, using his left hand instead to grab hold of the glass. “I have a little plan for us today.” You started, standing from the bed to open the curtains in that room, turning your head to look at Crosshair, who was now picking at the food on the breakfast tray you brought him.
“Oh yeah?” he drawled out, sounding unimpressed but you knew better. “Yeah, you're going to accompany me to the market today. I just noticed that I'm out of fruit, and I should also pick up some fish while we’re there too.” You replied, turning to look at him fully now.
“So get dressed, and if you need my help-”
“I don't.” Crosshair cut you off with a firm tone in his voice, before offering you a silent apology. You smiled, and cleared your throat. “IF you need help Crosshair, I'll be in the kitchen.” You finished, walking towards your bedroom door. “Enjoy your breakfast.” You added before walking out.
It didn’t take crosshair long to emerge with the empty breakfast tray, however his shirt was hiked up to his chest, and he stared at you expectedly. “I uh
 couldn’t get it down all the way.” He muttered as you approached him, staring anywhere but at you as you swiftly tugged the shirt down the rest of the way.
“Don’t worry hun, Tech got the last piece he needed to build you a metal hand, so you’ll be handless no longer in a week or so.” You encouraged, moving to stand on your tippy toes as you gave Crosshair a light kiss on his chin, since he was unfairly taller than you, considering you were taller than Hunter and Echo.
“Now, to the market we go. I’ll need your help with carrying some of the bags I'm sure.” You grinned, lacing your right hand with Crosshair’s left one, giving it a gentle squeeze when you felt him flinch back just ever so slightly.
“You’re going to be okay.” You whispered, before leading him out of your house, and up to upper Pabu where the market stalls were. Taking these little trips to the market was always fun, and you’d typically always go with one of the bad batch if they were around.
When you had first met them you were the only one to offer up your entire house for them all to stay in. And when they got Crosshair back from the Empire, you were again, the only one who gave him a temporary home until they built one for him
 But he eventually settled on just living with you, especially when your relationship began
 Now that was a day you wouldn’t forget.
After the imperial attack on Pabu, you had gotten hurt, not severely but hurt enough to where you needed assistance walking for a couple weeks, so that's when the bad batch started coming with you on your market trips. And then Crosshair fully took over that duty.
Eventually, you and Crosshair arrived at the markets, which were quite busy with the influx of all the new residents. You hummed, scanning the area as if you were setting a course to take. “Alright this way my love.” You spoke softly, your words catching Crosshair off guard for a moment, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He squeezed your hand and then followed close behind as you led him through the stalls.
You knew exactly where you needed to go, and at every stall you would have crosshair hold open the bag with his hand and arm as you put in whatever produce or meats you bought. You never mentioned if he needed a hand with the bags, you just treated him like you would with a hand, and if he needed a bit of help he would gently tap your shoulder and you’d take one handle while he had the other.
Your actions, they made him feel
 normal
 as normal as he could be anyway. You were his normal. His perfect, normal boyfriend that didn’t judge, or say anything harsh or teasing. You made Crosshair feel stronger than how he felt about himself on a regular basis
 and he wouldn’t ever tell you in public, but he was grateful for everything you did for him, even though he felt as if he didn’t deserve it.
“Alright Cross, I think we got everything we needed. You got all the bags? are they too heavy?” You asked, worried about the weight, not if he could actually carry them
 again, another small thing he was grateful for.
“I’ve got it, doll, let's go home.” He replied, carrying the bags in the crook of his elbow, using his left hand to hold yours as you both made your way out of the crowded market, and back down to your home.
You and Crosshair maneuvered around the kitchen like a well oiled machine, putting away the produce and meats in their designated places. And soon all the bags were empty, and you were tucking them away in their designated drawer.
As you were turned away, Crosshair took the chance to sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist which caught you by surprise. “Oh! you startled me, love.” You chuckled, leaning into his chest as you looked up at him.
“Thank you.” He whispered, and you almost didn’t catch it. “For what?” You asked, resting your hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb along the bare skin. “For making me feel
 normal
 despite it all.” He replied hesitantly, staring down into your eyes. “You’re perfect.” He muttered, kissing your forehead gently as you chuckled again.
“I’m nowhere near perfect Cross
 but if I'm what you need to get better, then I will always be right here.” You muttered, reaching up to his cheek, pulling him down a bit as you pressed your lips to his, feeling him smile against you before he pulled away.
“Now
 I say we should go to the beach.” He spoke up, making you laugh, but agree nonetheless.
“To the beach we go.”
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago
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Am I the AH for calling my brother a drug addled cunt?
My brother (26) has had a drug problem for over a decade now; meth, heroin, booze- if it exists my brother has done it multiple times. He recently came out of sober living again and my mom (46) is letting him live with us.
My mother set the condition that as long as he doesn't do drugs he can live with us and I was extremely wary but it is her house so I said fine. However he was sneaking alcohol and weed into the house and I (19) kept finding it and giving it to my mom. She would throw it away but in a couple of days I'd find a new bottle or container and the cycle would continue.
I recognize that weed and alcohol are legal in my state however I believe that someone with addiction issues (especially concerning weed and alcohol) should not partake and my mom agrees with that sentiment. However, at the end of her rope (i.e. not wanting to kick out her son but also struggling with trauma from having an addict father), she struck a deal with him that he could smoke weed as long as he 1.) didn't drink at all, 2.) Kept to himself when he was high, and 3.) Didn't drive the car whilst high.
As soon as she said that he was out the door to the dispensary and has been high from the moment he wakes up til the moment that he goes to bed. He completely disregards the second rule of not being high around us and drives the car high.
Tonight me and my mother were standing in the living room talking. He just got off his shift and was at the door struggling with the lock. He then stumbled inside so my mom made him empty out his pockets and he had weed after only going to work and coming straight back (he didnt stop at a dispensary).
My mother stated that since he was high he couldn't drive her car anymore and he stated that he wasn't high whilst smiling the whole time (which is his tell). My mom stood her ground and it seemed like the end of it so she went out for a cig, I went to my bed, and he went to the couch.
Several minutes later I hear yelling coming from the living room so I stand by my door listening (they're fighting about my moms car again) and it starts to get louder so I leave my room and stand behind my mom incase he starts to get violent.
She is telling him how dangerous it is that he is high at his job where he uses heavy machinery. He states that everyone does it so it doesnt matter. She responds by saying "you're not them so you don't have to do what they do." Somewhere along the lines she calls him a punk and he calls her a power tripping bitch. I don't even notice her call him a punk because I am honed in on every little move he makes just incase however I do notice what he says so I chime in with "don't talk to my mother that way."
He tells me to fuck off and that it's none of my business so I respond with "that's my mother, it is my buisness." He then says "she called me a punk first," so I said that "she should have called you a drug addled cunt."
My mom told me calmly to go back to my room which I did because I recognized that the amount of rage and fear coursing through my body causing me to shake like a chihuahua wasn't going to do anything beneficial.
They both quieted down and the fight ended immediately after that though. My reaction was a build up after years and years of trauma that he has brought into my life however I do recognize that what I said was out of left field. Most likely a TA or at least ESH but I'd like someone else's opinion! (If yall would like a list of the most memorable stuff that he has done to me since I was young for context I can type that out for you as well).
What are these acronyms?
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lynchs-finch · 2 months ago
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Mixing Business With Pleasure
An N$FW Ross Lynch x gn!Reader Fic
Summary: Living together has done wonders for you and Ross's relationship, in large part thanks to having access to each other's bodies any time you want. Recently, though, Ross has been brushing you aside in favor of interviews and business meetings. Like any good partner, though, you choose not to get mad at him. Instead, you're getting even. Word Count: 4,086 Rating: Mature (Oral Sex, Fingering) A/N: If I had a nickel for every time a picture of Ross in his underwear inspired me to write an x Reader smut, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot and it's weird that it's only happened twice.
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You were going to suck Ross’s dick in the middle of a business meeting and you were going to enjoy every second of it. He’d be embarrassed, sure, and you’d most likely cost him a brand deal, but Ross had it more than coming to him after the way he had been treating you the past few months.
For the majority of your time living together, you and Ross have been content to get down and dirty anywhere in your house that could fit the both of you. There just never seemed to be a reason to turn down Ross offering to let you explore his chiseled body, nor did he seem to find a reason to turn down pleasuring yours.
This more than okay arrangement between the two of you was recently disrupted when the wider world decided to bring Ross back into the public eye. Even though he was yours first, the unyielding capitalist machine required that his time be eaten up by interviews, promos, and talks about brand sponsorships before you knew it. So now the sexy, usually half naked man who only wants you even though everybody and their mother wants him doesn’t have fuck you ‘cause some stupid unpaid intern named Marcus or Karen or Reese was interviewing him for a newspaper nobody reads because it’s not the 1960s anymore.
Needless to say, Ross’s new schedule bugged you a bit.
You’d brought it up to him over and over again, but his response was the same each time. There was always “too much to do right then,” and he promised that he’d “make it up to you later.” You would then point out the fact he never did, and he wouldn’t say anything- just make those sad puppy eyes like not touching you was the hardest thing he’d ever been forced to do. So, with sadness in your heart and heat in your pants, you’d make a joke about giving him head in the middle of a zoom call to lighten the mood, the both of you under the impression that you’d never do something like that.
After that day’s iteration of the conversation, though, you had an epiphany- why shouldn’t you suck him off in front of a bunch of rich, stuck-up Disney executives? Maybe it’d finally draw his attention away from the people stuffing his pockets each day and back to the person who should be sucking what was underneath them every night. Plus, if time was the issue, there was really nothing for him to do but multi-task, right?
So, at 3:58 PM, you sat yourself down on a beanbag in Ross’s studio and waited for him to walk in. Sure enough, there he was a minute later in his delightfully odd business attire.
“Hey,” His stressed and vaguely dissociated pre-meeting face gave way to a smile and wave once he noticed you, “You hanging around for the meeting?”
Before responding, you made a show of shamelessly checking him out. His button-down shirt and blazer looked nice, and his tie was alright, but what you were really looking at were his pants–or lack thereof.  Ross’s philosophy of never wearing pants unless strictly necessary applied even to high-stakes meetings with Disney, which made your plan much easier.
“Yeah,” You laughed as he looked down at himself, faking shock at the fact he wasn’t wearing pantss, “I’ll stay quiet, don’t worry.”
Ross gave you a thumbs up as he walked over to his desk. There was no treat quite like watching him walk away, especially since he’d started buying his underwear two sizes too small. The pair he was wearing today, some red-and-black striped Hollister briefs, would’ve hugged his figure even if they were his size, but the added tightness meant you could see the outline of everything.
Ross hopped into his desk chair, logging into his laptop and joining the zoom meeting. He slipped on his rosegold over-ear headphones, humming the opening notes of Rumors as he plugged them in. Biding your time, you watched him open the meeting and plotted your route in.
He was sitting how he always did—leaned back in his chair with his legs spread wide—more than enough room for you to kneel between. His tall desk left you at little risk of bumping your head and the carpeted flooring combined with his noise-canceling headphones meant he wouldn’t be able to hear you coming. Really, all there was to it was pulling his underwear down and sucking him off fast enough that he got hard before he came to his senses and sent you away. In your time with him, you’d learned that it’d take a forklift to pull him out of you once he was into it, even if it meant Little Mister Disney and his subordinates seeing his orgasm face and bare lower half live in living color
After about ten minutes had passed, and Ross’s conversation had gone from boring introductory small talk to boring business discussion, you quietly slid off the beanbag and began crawling on all fours. Though you knew first hand that Ross’s headphones were powerful enough to block out any noise you may have made, there was still a certain kind of thrill in trying to sneak across the floor. Like you were an expert spy or thief, except the “package” you were after was far too thick and heavy to ever dream of stealing. Simply running your fingers (and younge) over it was all you could hope to achieve and all you could ever want.
In no time, you had gotten yourself into position without being noticed and now rested on your knees, eye-to-eye with Ross’s cock. It was covered by his underwear, but it’s prominent head, thick trunk, and balls were all clearly outlined. You looked away from it and up at him for a moment, almost laughing aloud to yourself at how completely unaware he was. Fully in business mode, equipped with a tight brow, slight frown, and absolutely zero awareness of what was about to happen next.
Keeping your eyes on his face, you gripped the waistband of his underwear with both of your hands at his hips and yanked them down as far as you could. You watched his eyes all but pop out of his head and heard the fabric of his underwear rip as his legs jumped up out of surprise.
“What the f-” Ross shouted, almost cursing at the top of his lungs. Undeterred by your boyfriends surprise, you dove your head in between his legs, pulling his (now torn) underwear the rest of the way off. You lapped his soft dick up into your mouth, feeling it begin to harden as your ran your tongue over the tip a few times.
“Mr. Lynch, is everything alright?” You heard somebody ask.
“Yeah, just
” Ross’s voice shook as you firmly ran your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You could tell he was suppressing a moan as he continued, “Just my cat.”
Your lips curled into a smile—or, as much of one as they could with a dick in your mouth. You didn’t have a cat, but you did have him right where you wanted him. There was no way he was gonna push you off of him now that he was hard, and he wouldn’t just ditch the negotiations, either.
Ross proved you right instantly, going right back into business talk as slowly bobbed your head back and forth on his cock. You went easy on him for the moment, moving slowly, keeping your tongue only slightly involved, and not having more than half of his 8-inches in your mouth at once. Him thinking this was a treat for him would only add to the pleasure of humiliating him.
A few minutes passed, and Ross was laughing and chatting as if you weren’t there. You took this opportunity to pick up the pace, occasionally stopping to run your tongue over the head of his dick, slurping up a little bit of precum and letting the saliva drooling out of your mouth take its place. Above you, his voice again began to take on a shaky quality, and he even let a moan slip out which he tried (and failed) to cover with a cough.
Just as Ross fixed his lips to apologize for his sudden “cough,” you took a deep breath, opened your throat, and dove mouth-first into Ross’s crotch, taking all of Ross’s cock into your mouth as quickly as you could. The experience was familiar to you—the coarse underside of his cock running against your tongue until the tip slammed into your with your soft palate. Then, you went down even harder, feeling its girth press against the walls of your throat until his balls were against your chin, your nose was deep in his bush, and all 8-inches of Ross were squeezed into your mouth.
The chair shook as Ross pounded an armrest with his fist, letting out a strangled groan—as if whatever curse he was about to shout had lodged itself in his throat the same way his cock was lodged in yours. He looked up to the sky, shakily exhaling as his thighs tensed against your cheeks.
With a unstable voice and exasperated affect, Ross apologized for his outburst and continued speaking. You contracted your throat around his dick periodically as he did, shivering each time his voice wavered thanks to you. 
Finally, you had to succumb to your human limitations and come up for air, though strands of saliva kept your mouth connected to him. The lush, earthy scent of Ross’s soap filled your nose for a moment as you inhaled, but there was no time to enjoy it. You were back on his cock in no time, with even more air in your lungs and vigor in your heart.
Feeling himself inside your throat again, Ross’s thighs brushed against your cheeks and ears as they began jittering feverishly, shaking his chair left and right as his legs shook seemingly against his will. You pushed your head further into his crotch and wrapped your arms around his thighs so he wouldn’t shake you off, but as your hands touched his lower inner thighs, an unexpected, shuddering moan leapt out of Ross.
“Mr. Lynch, are you certain you’re alright?” A different man on the Zoom asked, “Your face looks rather
 flushed.”
You paused for a moment, curious about his reaction to being touched there. As you pulled back from his dick, you couldn’t help but wonder

“Fi-fi-fine! I’m good, I’m good.” Ross stammered out, recomposing himself in your moment of stillness, “Let’s just keep talking business, yeah? What were you saying before about, uh, Search Engine—Oh my god!”
Ross shouted as you licked down his shaft, simultaneously rubbing and squeezing his thick thighs. His legs jolted up involuntarily, but your grip held him down as you circled both of his balls in a figure eight with your tongue before running your tongue wildly over the area between his balls and hole.
Fitting for his large size, you had to wrangle Ross like a bull as you went in on his underside. He gulped and grunted as you licked and lapped the area’s sweat and saliva. Even though Ross had just showered, down there had already begun to smell and taste like man in the delicious way only Ross’s body seemed to be. Becoming just the slightest bit greedy, you pressed your tongue into him hard, licking up to the skin between his balls.
This time, your grip wasn’t enough to hold Ross down. Almost instantly, his legs shot straight out, kicking the desk legs and propelling his rolling chair back. Several pens and pencils clattered against the floor, followed by the bang with which the keyboard fell and the clinking of various keys buncing away away.
Now, Ross was in the center of the room, rock hard with his entire lower half exposed. His knees had hiked up and he’d rolled back a bit, giving you (and every executive) a full view of his glistening cock, big balls, and tight hole. You expected him to immediately reach to cover himself, but after he remained dazed from your tongue’s magic for more than a moment, you advanced on him with your proverbial trump card in hand.
Your hands and knees thumping against the ground amid the cacophony of confused and objectioning shouts from the executives, you gathered up as much saliva as you could in your mouth. Once in range, you stuck your pointer and index fingers into your mouth, twisting them around until they were dripping wet, and yanked them out only to shove them into Ross’s hole before he could even register you were there.
Ross’s whole body shook, and he let out a long, drawn out moan as you slightly curved the tips of your fingers. With no mercy, you again stuffed his cock into your throat, causing him to cry out.
“God—Fuck!” All decorum had left Ross’s body once you entered it, leaving his pleasure-seeking lizard brain as the sole pilot of his actions. He reached one of his arms down between his shaking legs to grip your hair, forcing your head back and forth on his cock at leisure. Each time you adjusted your fingers, his grip briefly tightened and a low grunt radiated from his body.
Finally, though you were elated to be fucking Ross again, you had to remind him who was boss. You pulled your two fingers out of him, redistributing the little saliva on them onto your ring and pinky fingers. Indelicately and haphazardly, you shoved all four fingers back into Ross’s now-loosened hole.
With an piercing, high-pitched whine, Ross’s back instantly curled into an arch, his feet slamming into the ground shortly after. For a moment, you thought you had given him too much to handle—that he was about to come to his senses and chew you out for what you were doing. 
Thankfully, Ross was too much of a slut for that
Once his planted feet gave him the leverage, Ross thrusted off of your finger and into your throat with vigor. The head of Ross’s cock slamming into the back of your throat still caused to gag and recoil a bit, but you were no amateur. You continued to let him face-fuck you as you finger-fucked him with intensity.
At first you tried to get back into the grove you had under the desk, but Ross’s movements while being fingered were far too erratic. He kept thrusting back and forth mindlessly, so his dick was never where you expected it to be in your mouth. Eventually, you tried pulling back to lick the underside of his cock, but it just ended up slapping you on the cheek in a way that was surprisingly arousing, even if it stung a little.
Seeing as conventional dick-sucking tactics weren’t working, you loosely grabbed his dick in your freehand, looking up at him as he continued frantically jerking his cock up into your hand and ass back down onto your fingers. His eyes were shut with his mouth slightly agape, allowing grunts and whines to slip out along with the occasional expletive. It took all your mental strength not to stand up and start pulling at his hair and shirt, both ruffled in a way that was sexually agitating beyond belief. 
You dug your fingers deeper into Ross’s hole until your knuckles were against his ass cheeks. Ross shook and whimpered, forgoing thrusting into your hand entirely and pressing his ass down on your fingers with all his might. Gently, you curled your fingers and adjusted the position of your hands, listening to his grunts and waiting for-
“Holy—uff—shit!” Ross’s back arched and his forearms bulged as your fingers grazed his prostate. 
Spurred on by this reaction, you continued pleasuring Ross with the fingers one hand and jerking him off with the other. His big reaction to the initial contact simmered down into rubbing his ass back and forth on your fingers, groaning and letting out quivering pleads for you to keep going.
His dick was stiff and throbbing, threatening to blow as precum drizzled down the sides and onto your hand. You slowed down the pace in an attempt to delay the inevitable, taking a full second to pull your grip from the base of his cock to the tip, and another one pulling it back down.
Try as you might’ve, though, Ross was too close to the edge to put off his orgasm much longer. After only a few strokes, Ross’s shouts reverberated off of the walls of his studio.
“I’m– Fuck! I’m g-gonna– Fu-u-ck!”
Taking this as the cue to show your final tr, you simultaneously let go of Ross’s cock, lifted yourself up to position your mouth over it, and abruptly shoved your fingers into him so hard your knuckles wound up in his hole.
Just as you’d hoped, Ross’s hips sprung forward from the sudden pain and pleasure, driving his dick most of the way down your open and ready throat. Once his hips had extended as far forward as they could, you reached forward and gripped the seat of the chair. Then, with all your might, you pulled it toward you and pushed your head down, again deepthroating him and forcing him back into his seat.
After a moment, a cacophony of dull slapping sounds and frantic moans erupted above you. You looked up to find Ross flailing his body around, as if he were going to explode if he didn’t externalize the ecstasy of being deep in your throat that very second. His torso twisted and jerked, his legs bounced up and down independently of one another, and his fists clenched and unclenched as they alternate between punching and slapping the arms of the chair. Not to mention his hips, trying desperately to thrust even a millimeter deeper in your mouth.
Of course, his reaction only served encourage you, and you wondered what else you could do to make him squirm before he came. Just as you were getting ready to stick your thumb in him too, Ross’s chair creaked loudly. Before you could realize the sound came from a sudden shifting of weight, your head was suddenly squeezed tight from all sides, pulled in further onto Ross’s cock (if that was even possible.)  You threw your hands up to your head, trying and figure out what was happening as you tried to suppress your panic and growing urge breathe, and the meaty smack that accompanied the thick, trunk-like objects your palms collided with clued you in immediately.
In his pleasure-driven frenzy, Ross had tilted his entire lower body upwards and wrapped both his legs around your head in a desperate attempt to bury his cock even deeper in your throat. He squeezed his legs in several times, grunting in exasperation as he failed to will himself more dick to put inside you. The sound of fist-meeting-chair filled your ears again, followed by him using his arms to push himself off the chair and up into you.
The poor, poor chair squeaked and buckled as all 170-pounds of Ross landed back onto it. Still, in spite of its cries, a carnally unsatisfied Ross pushed himself again. And again. And again. Until Ross’s greed finally caught up with him. He’d pushed himself too far this time, and instead of his plump, saliva-drenched ass cheeks landing safely on the chair, they brushed against its edge and sent it careening backwards as all 170-pounds of Ross plus your head went plummeting toward the ground.
You weren’t quite certain if the chair slamming into the wall came before or after Ross’s tailbone thudded against the ground, but you were certain that the sound following both of them, that of the sustained wail Ross let out, eclipsed them both in volume and length. It rebounded off of the walls in his office, seeming only to amplify in volume over time. He was putting so much into his shout, you swore you could feel his vocal chords vibrating in his legs.
For a moment it seemed like Ross was seriously hurt, but as his cry tapered off into a gasp and his thighs tensed against your jaw and cheeks, you realized his noise wasn’t that of pain, but of an imminent orgasm. This further proved to be the case when Ross’s cock, still lodged in your throat began to twitch, threating a milky explosion any second.
Ross’s voice filled the room again. A high, breathy whisper of your name that rapidly deepened into a guttural grunt. The firm, immobilizing grip of his thighs devolved into a trembling, pleading suggestion of where to keep your head. His stiff, trembling cock expanding into a force threatening to open your throat from the inside out. All as he toppled over the edge into his orgasm.
The first rope of cum hit the back of your throat like a bullet. What felt like a whole pint of semen dripped down your esophagus as Ross gasped and trembled above you. He tried squeezing his legs around your head again, but found himself unable to settle his trembling legs. Instead, he reached down and gripped your hair with both of his hands, ensuring you wouldn’t get off his cock until he was ready as his dick prepared to shoot off more rounds of cum.
Two
 Three
 Four
 The subsequent shots came at a similar speed, together coating part of your throat with Ross’s thick semen. His cock was too far down your throat to taste the sweet, tanginess of his semen. Silently, you prayed that you might get a taste when Ross pulled out, though that seemed a long ways away.
Five
 Six
 Seven
 The next few ropes of cum fell short of reaching the back of your throat, and instead fell straight down your esophagus. The sensation was not unlike swallowing water down the wrong pipe, except you had to suppress your urge to cough as to not waste any of your dwindling supply of air.
Eight
 Nine
 Ten
 By now, Ross’s cum wasn’t “shooting” so much as dribbling off his cock and down your throat. Still, even as his balls were emptied and his moans gave way to slight whimpers and heavy breathing, Ross’s cock kept twitching like it was trying to shoot out more cum and his hand kept you firmly in place.
It wasn’t until a fully his cock was finally still that Ross let you go. Not a millisecond later, you pulled back and settled on all fours, gasping for breath and swallowing Ross’s cum down fully. Like you hoped for, hints of Ross’s cum grazed your tongue on the way up. You couldn’t help smiling a content, saliva-coated smile.
After taking a moment to recuperate, you shifted onto your knees and looked over Ross, taken fully out of commision. He was laid out on his back, his body unmoving and pinkened from exertion. His stare was blank and mouth ajar, drooling just a little. Were it not for the rise and fall of his chest as he took breath after labored breath, you’d fear you sucked the soul straight out of his body through his cock.
His cock. The not-so-little monster was still fully hardened and pointing skyward, as if it were begging for just a little more action from you even as the man it was attached to was worn out and developing gnarly bruise on his lower back. Your spit still coated it thoroughly, dripping both down his shaft and straight off his tip onto the floor. You almost got lost in watching it, but reminded yourself that you were here to teach Ross a lesson, not just give a killer blowjob.
You crawled over his body, leaning in close to his ear. He seemed not to notice you at first, but jolted into awarness when you started to whisper.
“From now on, I hope you’ll think twice before ditching me for some stupid interview,” You told him, preparing to stand up, “‘Cause when I get blown off, I always make sure to return the favor.” If Ross responded in any way, you didn’t stick around to hear it. He need time to think about his actions and how to do better in the future. And, frankly, you needed to get off somehow, and he certainly wasn’t in any condition to do it.
✎✎✎
If the desire for A Lot More Ross resonates with you, please feel free to stick around.
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kazutora-kurokawa · 7 months ago
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pooks, I just read the vamp!baji x vamp!reader and chifuyu asking them to turn him so they could be friends forever is so cute!! (>o<)
sooooo....I sort of have a request for that specifically??
imagine chifuyu asking over and over again for them to turn him, but they keep rejecting him, and when he accidently gets into a life-threatening issue! reader finally turns him because they were so scared to lose chifuyu?? (>n<')
Vampire!Baji x Vampire!Reader pt.2: Turning Chifuyu
♡ SFW for the most part, fem reader, cursing, fighting/jumping, use of weapons (a knife), mentions of bodily harm, bleeding out and necrosis, near death experience, mega angst for a bit but also instant comfort at the end ♡
note: omgg I don't even wanna imagine Fuyu being in danger fr, he's been through enough in the manga 😭 but for the sake of writing I'll do it
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You and Baji had been turning Chifuyu down for forever, no way in hell were either of you gonna turn him into a vampire, regardless of how much he begged and pleaded. That all changed when Chifuyu, being his idiotic, stubborn self, decided to get into a fight with a random guy. His reasoning? They badmouthed Baji. Totally valid reasoning to get into a fight (in his opinion). What he wasn't expecting was the four other guys that popped up out of nowhere. A one-on-five? He was absolutely outnumbered and getting jumped for sure.
That's how he ended up at your doorstep, his Toman uniform torn and blood gushing from his side. You immediately brought him into the house, calling out for Baji from the living room. As soon as Baji saw him, he panicked.
"What the hell Chifuyu? What happened? Who did this?"
"He's in pain Kei! Stop bombarding him with questions."
"Sorry sorry."
Baji helps you lay him on the couch, propping his head up on a pillow as you take his uniform off to assess the extent of his injuries. The two of you can immediately see the amount of damage, even though it was only one stab wound the area around it was severely warm and took on a dark color as if his body was already going through the process of necrosis.
"Shit. Shit. Shit."
"You aren't helping!"
"I'm sorry! I don't know what the fuck to do y/n!"
"...Kei.."
"Y/n...no."
"Kei.."
"No, absolutely not. You are not turning him!"
"We don't have a choice!"
"Yes we do! We can take him to the hospital."
"And risk him dying on the way there? Hell no!"
"Fuck! Okay okay, just do it!"
You take a deep breath, apologizing to a barely conscious Chifuyu in advance for any pain you cause before biting down on his neck. You stay there for a few moments, praying that you did it fast enough. You unhook your fangs from his neck, pulling back as his body starts twitching. As Chifuyu comes to, he looks around the room, his unfocused eyes settling on you and Baji.
"What's going on?"
All you two can do is hug him, holding him as tightly as possible. Baji lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, his grip on Chifuyu loosening a bit.
"Is someone gonna tell me what the heck is happening?"
"You're okay..."
"We thought you were gonna croak on us dude.."
"Huh? What happened?"
"You almost died man!"
"WHAT!"
You instinctively cover your ears as Chifuyu yells, his voice echoing through the room.
"Sorry y/n, didn't mean to be so loud...wait if I almost died, then how am I not dead?"
You remain silent, letting Baji break the news.
"Y/n had to bite you to save you... you're a vampire now..."
"I'm a vampire?...I'm a vampire."
"Yeah..." "Yup.."
"That means... we're friends forever!"
Chifuyu jumps up from the couch excitedly, pulling you and Baji into a tight hug.
"Oh god, an eternity with you? I rather be staked through the heart."
"Great, I'm stuck with you two dorks forever."
Chifuyu only hugs you two tighter.
"This is awesome! Do you think we could make Peke J into a vampire too? An immortal cat would be so cool!"
"Absolutely not" "Absolutely not"
"Pleeeease?"
You lean against Baji's shoulder, laughing softly at Chifuyu's begging before turning your attention to the couch, stained with his blood.
"I'll turn Peke J."
"Really?!" "What?"
"Only if you replace the couch though."
"Done!"
"You cannot be serious...I don't think I can handle an eternity of this."
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe
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spaceorphan18 · 3 months ago
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The Lady Whistledown Papers : 1x07 Ocean's Apart (Part 2)
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Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!
For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers
Ocean's Apart
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It just occurred to me that this scene does not take place in the normal Bridgerton drawing room. Is this Hastings House? Or another room in the Bridgerton home? I haven't paid enough attention to Daphne's story line to notice.
Anyway... Daphne makes good on her promise and has arranged a meeting between Colin and Marina. And I should note the title of the episode -- ocean's apart. It is, of course, a nod to Daphne and Simon's issues, but also to Colin and Marina. And... as I brought up in the previous post -- a nod to the Leander and Hero myth, where the two lovers are split by the ocean. Simon and Daphne, obviously, will find their way back to each other. But Colin and Marina truly are ocean's apart. They are just not meant for each other, and this scene is going to close the book on their romantic story.
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Colin starts out by asking for confirmation about the pregnancy. But his wording of it is interesting -- Lady Whistledown cannot be true. Right? Right??? He's so deeply in denial, despite everyone around him telling him otherwise. There was an ounce of hope he had in the faith he had in his own love that the pregnancy was a made up lie to scorn him (them).
Marina is done with the lying. She didn't even want to be there, and is only there because Daphne requested her and she can't really say no to a duchess. She tells Colin the pregnancy is real, and Colin's whole world shifts in that moment (and a nice bit of physicality as Colin himself shifts).
He kind of stutters, asking her really - you're with child? He looks her up and down, too, as if wanting physical proof of this.
Then he says something that is very telling -- 'I do not understand, we were to be wed. You said you loved me.'
And this is where Colin's romantic nature is his undoing. First of all, marriage and love are inextricably linked. You agree to marriage than you agree that love is its basis. In a time where it really was rare, that is one of the values that is at Colin's core. And it shakes him to his very core that Marina lied to him.
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Marina tells him - I hold you in the highest regard. Admitting, though, that she does not love him. And that is when Colin's heart is truly breaking. If she had been pregnant and still wanted to get married, was actually in love with him, he could continue playing the romantic hero, could continue drowning in his own love. But she's ripping the mask of the rouse now. She used him, yes manipulated him, and yes used his own love to her advantage.
He gets angry, but it's retrained but emotional. Colin isn't a lash out kind of guy, not like Simon or Anthony. But he does show his hurt visibly, and the words come pouring out as he tries to sort out the situation. He is at an utter loss that she doesn't feel the same way, he's processing all the lies, and claims she's committed a great sin - and it's funny, that yes, the sin is being with child out of wedlock and using someone to cover it up... yes, the sin is, in general, lying. But what it is the most for Colin -- what hurts him the deepest, is lying about love him back.
Colin lives for love. He feels love deeply. He wants to be loved back just as deeply. And for Marina to cast that all aside, to claim she was not there in it with him, feels like the biggest part of the betrayal.
Marina lays down a huge dose of reality though. She stands up for herself, claiming she's not going to allow herself to be shamed by either Colin or Daphne (who isn't really reading in the corner). And while they may think she's a villain, the situation just isn't black and white like that. She takes a moment for herself, when she says that no one ever led her in the right direction, and no one taught her any better - so she's been trying to do what's best for herself.
And it's important to note that Marina did like Colin as a person. She picked him because he was kind and empathetic. That she does appreciate the depth of how he loves. But in all of this, not only was she needing to look after herself and her unborn child, her heart had been utterly broken. And she just cannot with the idyllic love. She cannot with how Colin lives in the clouds with his fantasies. Her reality is a much, much darker place.
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The more she talks, the more his heart breaks, and you can see him start to well up. And this is when the emotion, the betrayal, the hurt, the anger really come out. He mocks her a bit when starts saying that he should feel lucky that she chose him? And, it's interesting, as he yells at her, it gets more emotional and for a moment slightly unhinged, and then he immediately pulls himself back and recomposes himself. Another reminder that even at the height of emotion, Colin always pulls inward.
After he collects himself, he tells her, basically, that he's done with her. (It's deliciously dramatic, lol)
She doesn't really have anything else to say, either. But she's upset, too. It's an emotional confrontation. She's sad for herself and her situation. But she truly never really wanted him to be hurt by any of it either. She wasn't being malicious. She was looking out for herself. And now it's all unraveling and she's alone again.
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As Colin moves to leave, he pauses and turns one more time to her to say -- the ironic thing is that if she had told him about her situation, he'd have still married her. Because he loves her that much.
And here's my thing about that....
First of all, note the present tense when he says 'that is how in love I believe myself to be'. His heart is shattered, but that love he (thinks he) feels is still very real and still very present. And it's going to take going to Greece to get over it (and even then he won't really be over it until she again firmly shuts the door on him a second time).
Colin loves love and wants love so badly that he's holding onto things that aren't good for him because the alternative is not having that love at all, and he really just doesn't know what to do with it.
The second thing is that hero complex that's coming into play -- the fact that saving her from her predicament means that he'd have self worth. He places a lot of his self worth on his ability to help others, and it's reiterated in this sentiment. If you hadn't deceived me, I would have helped you, I would have been your hero, I would have done anything and everything for you. Because Colin seems to believe that is conditional - and if he isn't helping you, isn't saving you, well then, what good is he? (ah, we will be revisiting this later...)
But here's the thing, the thing that really gets me. As romantic as this sounds? It's TERRIBLE.
If Colin had married Marina, either knowing or not knowing of the pregnancy, he would have ended up utterly miserable. His love would always be unmatched. Even if she did grow affection for him -- and who knows, maybe she would have, but I kind of doubted it. Colin is a bit smothering when in love. And he really needs a partner that not only can cope with that, but doesn't mind getting lost in that themselves.
Not only are Marina's feet a bit too firmly on the ground (she is a practical realistic, who would always burst Colin's bubble) her heart belonged to another and it got shattered. And I don't know that she'd ever really allow anyone to hurt her in that way again, so there'd always be something between them.
Their marriage would end up being incredibly cold. Marina would push him away. Colin would become resentful. And he'd probably throw himself at his kid or traveling or whatever work he could find. But would never really feel that sense of connection that he so desperately desires.
Marina only sees him for her use to him, not for who he is himself. And he may not realize it yet - but he does need someone who likes him for him, not someone who needs him.
But... (I say because I can't shut up about this scene) Colin needed to go through this. It's not a bad thing that he's dosed with reality every once in a while. It's not a bad thing that he gains the experienced of not having been loved back. It's not a bad thing that he learns the difference between infatuation and real love - because he'll be able to recognize real love for what it is when it finally presents itself.
It's all, really, a part of growing up. And Colin is, after all, a young man in that awkward stage between child and adult, where you do go through all of this stuff.
So, we end the scene with a heartbroken Colin rushing away. This is the last time they'll see each other (until Season 2), and it closes the book on the Colin side of this story. (Marina's story will go on without him now...)
But this whole experience not only gives great insight into the type of character he is, but it's going to shape his world in a fundamental way, and have effects to his stories in later seasons.
And... that's where I'm going to stop for now.
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sparrowrye · 8 months ago
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 5
Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?
Previous part
Part 5: trouble in paradise
WARNING! You should make sure you're in the right mental headspace to deal with a challenging chapter like this (several mentions of suicide). Also, it's very long.
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"I am not having this conversation with you." I whisked around and headed for the front door, making sure my tail whipped against his leg as I did. He caught the end and yanked me back. I spun on my heels, teeth bared in a snarl, and eyes dark with anger. "How dare--"
"We are having this conversation." He took a step to meet me halfway, causing me to nearly run into his chest. He slammed his cane on the wood floor and brought his face close to mine. "Your behavior has been abrasive, rude, and unacceptable."
"My behavior? My behavior?" I slammed a hand on my own chest. "How about yours? You've been short with me and the children, you and Reagan can't seem to be adults and be in the same room for more than five minutes without tearing each other's throats out, you snap at Husker left and right, and you keep trying to tell me what to do."
He straightened up so he was looking down his nose at me. His smile was quirked up in a black gummy snarl. "The children are misbehaved, I refrain from speaking to Reagan but she insists on eliciting an argument, I'm treating Husker as I always have, and I am in no way telling you to do anything." His staticky voice was sharper than usual and he attempted to break through my shield with his mind. It edged on my anger as I reinforced the shield.
"That's right, you're not telling what to do." I jerked back my tail from his grip. "You're telling me what not to do. I've been on my own for eight years. Even longer than that before you came into my life. I don't need your protection or your help."
His ears bent back as his smile strained to stay up. My snarl fell from guilt.
"We have magic. You have far more advanced magic. If I'm in danger you can easily come and be the great savior. For now, leave me alone to hunt this bastard's factory down. I need to clear my head. Reagan and Lucas will take care of Nym and Thatcher." I turned back to the door, being extra careful to keep my tail close to my heels, and closed it behind me.
I morphed into my Dragon form and took to the skies. The wind whipped past my face and the clouds were a soothing dousing to my hot anger. I flew from cloud to cloud, keeping well out of sight until my wings grew tired from the exertion.
Incorporating Alastor back into my life, into everyone else's lives, didn't go as smoothly as I had planned.
The first biggest issue was the children. He didn't care for Nym and Thatcher in the slightest. He was actively annoyed by their mere presence and they knew it, too. It made them more avoidant of the house itself and more clingy to me when they were inside. They were either at my side or in their room -- never did they spend time with each other in the common spaces of the household. I felt guilty for letting that happen.
Reagan wasn't helping either. She and Alastor were always arguing whenever they were left alone together. Sometimes they even argued about me when I was present in the room. Reagan was protective of me, a trait I found admirable, but it was causing more problems than solutions. Alastor being Alastor, he didn't let any snide remarks or comments slide. I felt guilty for letting Reagan know more about the complicated relationship. I should've kept her oblivious for as long as possible.
Husker was also being avoidant. He didn't frequent the old house like he used to and any time Alastor stepped in the room he fell silent and stood on the opposite side of the room as me. It didn't take long to realize Alastor was upset that Husker and I were close--closer than Alastor and I. Guilt gnawed at my chest for not defending my friend.
The others, from Charlie to Vivian, to Althea, to Vilcin, and to everyone in between, were constantly asking me how I was holding up with Alastor. Reagan's words echoed in my head about how she and Husker had to deal with my affects of Alastor's disappearance. So I put on a smile and told them we were working on it.
Althea had caught me on the streets and tried to dig deeper, claiming that the thread between me and Alastor was very transparent. I kept up the act and told her we were taking small steps to make it stronger. She didn't believe me--I could tell by the way she looked at me--but there was nothing she could do about it.
I touched down in a random forest and melted into the shadows. I skidded across the unoccupied plots of land until I came to a town. I picked a random shadow and stayed hidden in it, listening and watching all around me. How much more simpler were these people's lives? My own life felt so vastly unique that it actually felt tragic.
I jumped from shadow to shadow, from town to town, for hours on end. No amount of hunting could reveal any kind of information. Though I wasn't really searching for anything. I knew Vox's trackers would lead us right to the factory but I needed something to do. My responsibilities in the haven had vanished--likely from Charlie's input--on the account of giving me more time to spend with my family. If only they knew that it would better help me if I had something to occupy my hands and mind.
So I stayed off the haven's grounds from dawn to dusk, and further on. I was procrastinating my next interaction with Alastor. I knew he wouldn't severely hurt me but the memories from when we first met had begun to resurface. Alastor always had a screw loose so what would happen if he was pushed to the very edge? I was likely going to be the one on the receiving end of it.
I manifested in an alley of a small town and sat down. I was exhausted; physically and mentally. I leaned my head against the cold brick and listened with my Demon ears, no magic, to the sounds of the quiet little town.
I could hear mumbled conversations from family's and couples, could hear the static of radios and televisions, could hear the rustle of a cat looking for dinner in a nearby street, and could hear my own labored breathing.
I was feeling panic. Why was I panicking? Why was I sweating so much? I hadn't used a lot of magic today or even recently. Why was my chest so tight?
My fingers gripped the stone beneath me. I scraped my foot claws so they drew little white lines in the pavement. My heart was thundering in my ears and adrenaline was confusing through my body for no apparent reason.
I leaned to the side on my forearms as it became difficult to breathe. My throat was so tight and my hands felt cold. There was no magic around me. I couldn't feel anyone. I couldn't hear or see anyone either, meaning any of Blackwater's legacy weren't nearby.
So what was wrong?
My breathing came in wheezes. I gripped my maroon jacket as I my vision darkened. My claws were scrapping against the pavement. I needed to breathe. My magic wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I couldn't sit still. I just needed to breathe.
"What's wrong with you?"
My head snapped up at Vox's familiar voice. My lips pulled back in a snarl as I scrambled to my feet and attempted to collect myself.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"You seemed like you were struggling so I came to check."
"How sweet," I mused sarcastically. I was so out of breath.
He gave me an unamused look. "Trouble in paradise?"
"That's none of your concern."
"Oh sure it is," he held his hands behind his back, "When my lovely guardian is shriveling on the cold ground in my territory, it becomes my concern."
Shit. I hadn't realized I was on Vee territory. I hadn't paid attention to any of the trademarks of their land.
"Don't you have a ring fight to broadcast?" I snapped. I was so hot. My magic was struggling to cool me down. Why couldn't I control my magic? Was Vox in on this? Was he causing this?
"My champion doesn't fight on weekdays." He casually pulled out his phone and started scrolling on something. Vox had concocted a strange mix of willing and unwilling fighters for a massive ring fight. He broadcasted these fights nearly every evening. They didn't always end in death but that didn't make it any less. It made me grateful that part of our deal included that I would not defend his stations if there was an active ring fight. It kept my name from being tarnished.
I hate politics.
I put my hands in my pockets and left the small alley. I tried to get Alcine to wrap around my legs to teleport me but she wasn't willing. Her large hat stayed within my peripheral as I tried several times over to melt into the shadows. Something was very wrong.
Vox's loud, metal boots tapped the ground as he came running up to me. I turned right as he reached for my face. Blue claws zapped with blue electricity. It ran through my body and left me frozen in place in the new location. My hair was sticking up and my tense body was ready to kill someone.
As soon as Vox's flat face came into view, I struck. My black claws wrapped around his throat and the other gripped the corner of his screen to keep his head from moving. I wrapped my tail around his torso and stepped my massive foot claws on top of his feet.
"I made it very clear that you were to never do that again," I hissed, spit falling on his screen in tiny drops. My voice had dropped and my eyes blackened. My own vision had a coat of dark purple across it.
"F-figured you could...use some personal space." Vox choked against my tight hand. I examined the room. It looked like a simple lounge room. The bright pink and various other colors told me we were in one of Valentino's studios. My magic reached out to feel we were down in Hell.
Vox stifled a cough. I shoved him away so his back hit the wall. "Why is everyone attempting to protect me? I'm the one who protected the Haven for eight years straight. I'm the one who killed Blackwater. I'm the one who you asked to protect your surface stations. I don't need help or protection!"
Vox rubbed a hand on his neck. "It's out of care," he shot back, "You've done a lot for everyone and we just want to return the favor."
"You can return the favor by staying out of my way and leaving everything to me. I can handle it." My tail whipped furiously behind me as I stepped in a circle. My foot claws tapped the tile loudly.
Vox fixed his suite. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're hella good protecting everyone but shit when it comes to yourself."
"What is that supposed to mean?" My eyes narrowed and I grew very still.
"This isn't the first time you're having mental problems. You almost didn't come back after killing Striker and Blackwater."
"How do you know that information?" I took several steps towards him.
"I have my sources." For the first time, he wasn't smug about it. Was he actually trying to be kind and helpful?
"You're an awfully nosy person." I was gradually reigning my magic in. I knew how to pick at the smallest bit of magic, thanks to Adam and Blackwater, but doing it while awake and conversing with another Demon was a different story.
"It helps me stay connected with everything that's happening. Hence why I gave you a phone but don't listen in. You need to stay just as connected as me." He reached his magic out to touch mine. I magically flinched away. There were few times in our interactions that we had had genuine conversations. This felt like one of them.
"You seem interested in helping me more now that Alastor is back." I put my hands in my pockets and pulled my shoulders back.
He gave me a funny look. "I've been trying to help for the past eight years. Are you telling me you haven't noticed? I'm the one who approached you about our deal."
"I know you've done nothing but flirt with me and try to convince me to leave Alastor."
"Now that he's back, I know you won't leave him. Well, I know he won't let you leave." He flicked his hand dismissively, eyes averted to the side.
Something about the way Vox said that itched the wrong part in my brain.
"You realize I have as much a say as he does."
Vox's sly look returned. That's the Vox I knew how to handle. "Do you? You're not even a hundred years old. He's got centuries on you."
"And centuries are supposed to mean he's in charge of my every step and word?"
"You're his soulmate. And he's--well--he's Alastor. He's not one to just let things happen."
"Are you trying to stroke my ego or degrade it? I've gotten both from you in the span of five minutes." I faked a look at a nonexistent watch on my wrist.
"I'm trying to talk you down from whatever panic attack you were having in the alley. And it looks like I did exactly that."
I took stock and realized he was right. My magic was back in my grip, my hands weren't as sweaty, my heart was at a normal rate, and my head felt clear. So that had been a panic attack? I didn't get panic attacks. I had meltdowns when things were too much but I never had a panic attack before. This wasn't good.
"I appreciate the help," I said, suddenly very sullen and not at all representing my Dragon Demon persona, "but I need to return home now."
"I'll be here if you ever need someone to grab a cup of coffee with." His tone was just as sullen as mine as he walked to the door. I melted with Alcine and found a small, empty alley in Pentagram City. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I teleported back up to the surface.
It was a new moon which made everything look pitch black. I could hear the splash of the waves at the base of the cliff and the whistling of the wind. I reached my magic out to feel Reagan, Lucas, Nym, Thatcher, and Alastor all safe in the house. I checked in on the young pair, the horrid nightmare of Adam standing over them resurfacing, before going to my bedroom.
Alastor was in his office so I quickly changed into soft night clothes and glanced at the old timey clock on the mantle. Why was he in his office at this hour? What was he doing? Was he avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him?
I casted the small fire out and climbed into bed. Alastor walked in a few minutes later. My ears strained to listen to his soft movements until he was lying in bed next to me. I ignoring the guilty pit forming in my stomach and put myself to sleep.
Had I known what would happen, I wouldn't have gone to sleep that night.
****
I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another bright pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him, slipping on the tile as I did. The back of my knees hit the rim of the tub and I fell backwards in it. I scrmabled back with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.
"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."
"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."
"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.
"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.
"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.
He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already.
------
I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.
"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."
"Fuck you."
His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."
"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.
He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."
------
"I know what you're trying to do," I jutted a finger at him. I leaned against the wall to get off my injured foot. "You did this to me on purpose. You're trying to make me grateful for you."
"So what if I am?" He put his hands up like sharp ugly flowers. "After all, you should be grateful. You could carry on with a life in the rings or spend it in a distant safe house with nothing to worry about ever again."
"It's a cage."
"To you, my dear, everything is a cage." He walked over and put his hand out to me.
"What?" I looked between his red eyes and his dark claws.
"Are you ready to return home now?"
I almost wished he had just teleported me back without asking. I didn't want to touch him let alone take his hand. Who knew if he had conjured up some kind of magic deal that solidified when I grabbed his hand?
And yet, when I looked around at the quiet, dangerous town, I knew there wasn't another option. He would keep looking for me and a Full mage with his power could most certainly find me with ease. I didn't want to go back in that cellar. All because I had the worst luck in the world and had him as a soulmate.
I looked down at my feet and took his hand.
------
"What is it, doll? What's happening?"
"He's...the man...he's wearing a white suite...exactly the color of his hair...and he's yelling with her. They're fighting. There's yelling. He hits her. She's arguing back but not fighting. Why won't she fight?"
"Stay with me dear." She touched my lap. I tried to lower my tense shoulders but it was hard.
"He picked me up and...he closed the door on her. She's screaming. Why is she screaming? Why is he taking me away from her? I can't...I can't reach her. I don't...where is he taking me? I don't want to leave her."
"Enough sweetheart, come back. Come out of the memory." She touched my shoulder this time. "Come back to my store. Come back to this world. It's all just a memory."
"I can't stop crying. Why...is that my mother?"
"Sweetheart, you need to come back. You're going in too deep. Stop the emotions."
"But...I want to see her."
"We'll look next time. We can come back next time but you need to take a break. Come out of the memory. Come back to the store. Blink twice and look up."
I stared at the figure reaching out to me through the bars. I was so close. I just wanted to touch her hand one more time. But it was just a memory. She wasn't really there. She might not even be alive at all.
------
"You need to accept the fact that you will never leave this place for the rest of your life," he said with radio static behind his voice. He let me down so my feet were flat on the ground but so he could tower over me. I put one hand on his wrist and the other arm across his chest to keep him away.
"I'm growing tired of your antics. These little outbursts of yours will stop today." It was more terrifying that he was smiling through his anger. I leaned away despite the sheer drop beneath me and he followed, never more than an inch away. "If you don't want me to treat you like a caged pet, I suggest you apologize and quit it with this delusion of yours."
His smile was wide and his breath smelled like roadkill. He dug his claws further into the wound he created, making me wince. "I'm-I'm sorry." He held me over the edge for several heartbeats. Eventually he pulled me away but didn't let get off my neck.
"I never want to hear you mention anything about leaving here, again. To me or to Husker. Do you understand?"
I wanted to cough from the way he was holding me but I held it in. The tentacles were still pulling onto my wings and pulling them painfully down. My resignation made my shoulders fall. "Perfectly."
He let go. I turned to the side to cough, clutching at my bleeding neck. I felt the wounds closing but the blood was still plastered to my skin.
"Good talk." His cane appeared in one hand and he put the other behind his back. His voice sounded chipper again. "Come, dear, let's clean you up." He held his hand out towards the house, looking at me sideways. I took a deep breath and walked past. He walked close behind me.
------
"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.
I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.
I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.
"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.
I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.
Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn't know I even had that memory.
"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.
------
"Do you feel that?" Alastor stood, my hand still firmly trapped on his and pulling me to my feet. He smiled wide and tapped his fingers on his cane. It felt like a flow of magic was cycling between us. It was the same feeling as when a strong gust of wind blows in my face. It felt good.
"Did I do it? Did I unravel it?" I asked. Husker and Niffty were well awake and watching intently.
"Oh you most certainly did. The curse is gone and your true power shines through." His smile widened and looked janky, truly devilish. His eyes had a look of insanity to them. "It will only grow and grow with time. I will be there every step of the way to guide and harbor this power of yours."
I suddenly wanted to be twenty yards from him. I tried to let go but his grip only tightened. His shadow loomed behind him with a large smile and my own shadow turned into a dragon again.
"Our magic combined is like nothing I've seen before." He jerked my hand back so I stumbled into him. My head had to tilt way back just to keep eye contact. "Together, with our combined power, we will be untouchable." His hair had hardened into spikes and his antlers grew overhead. His eyes darkened and his smile reached well past them. Were those stitches on the corners of his mouth?
His claws weren't touching my skin but his grip was crushing my hand. I could feel pins and needles poking through my finger and it went straight up to my shoulder.
"You're...you're hurting me," I whimpered.
------
"Alastor...I..." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't...he took me. I...I didn't leave—" pain cut off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut as it rocked through my spine and into head.
"I'm aware." He pressed his claws around my temples and I felt the pain dull. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and legs, lifting me up effortlessly. "Take a look, my dear."
I opened my eyes to see the alley littered with dead and deformed bodies. There had to be at least thirty dead Demons.
"That was all you."
My shoulders fell with my spirit. I had killed all of them. I had even eaten some of them. Their sweet blood still lingered on my tongue and I found myself wishing for more. I could see their scared faces in my mind and feel my heart quicken at the mere thought of them being terrified. They had all been so scared when I had transformed.
Alastor turned the other way but I stared at the site over his shoulder. I actually wanted him to let me go so I could do it again. The energy from all of them still buzzed in my body despite the overwhelming exhaustion.
"I told you dear," my ear flicked at his voice, tears streaming down my cheeks and claws digging into his shoulders, "it's in your nature."
------
Striker grabbed Reagan by the throat and held her close to his face. I fought against the white rope trapping my limbs against my body, but it did nothing. My magic was gone from my grip and the rope kept me entirely immobile.
"You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" he taunted, eyes flickering over to me. "I'll haunt your dreams and your every waking hour. Just wait and see." He withdrew a white knife and plunged it into Reagan's heart.
I yelled and bolted upright from my bed. I fell off the side, covers trapping my legs, and tried to stand up. I choked on a sob and untangled myself.
------
"What does that mean?" she asked, voice quivering. He stopped his assault and took a step back to examine her fully.
"It means your family line has stayed pure since before the Great Collapse." When she showed no obvious sign of understanding, he let out a sigh and put his hands back in his coat pockets. "Magic was not a thing before the Great Collapse. Demons were leaked into our world and brought their wretched magic with them. They started having children with Humans and generations later, everyone had Demon's blood in them. You, my dear," he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are a rare, pure gem. You're not infected with their blood."
Reagan's eyes snapped over to mine. All I could think was - oh no.
He reached up to his face to remove his glasses and his horns. They were fake. "I, myself, am a pure Human." My eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He was a Human. He was a defenseless Human. No wonder he had made all those inventions. "And I'm so glad to have found another one to add to our family."
"Family?" she questioned with a tone of disgust.
"I've been all around the world and collected ten pure Humans. We're going to be the foundation of the new world. A world that isn't tainted by Demons." His eyes narrowed on me.
"We're not all bad," I tried, limply pulling against the chains. My energy was taking forever to return. "We've created a safe haven for everyone. A place where both sides can live peacefully together."
"That wont last long." He waved his hand dismissively. "Demons are ruthless killers and Humans can't fathom having anyone above them."
------
Blackwater's laughter reached past it all. "A true Demon thirsty for blood. I expect nothing less from Alastor's soulmate." He turned to look at Reagan. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head in response, eyes never leaving my writhing form.
"Not...not all...just me...just Alastor." I spoke through the spasms and clenched teeth. I don't know how any of them hadn't broken yet from the sheer force. My breathing was getting faster, my whines louder.
"This is the person you're entrusting everything to," he went on, ignoring my response. "Demons can't help but lie. Lie and manipulate. It's why they come from Hell."
------
"Hey hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. Please stay with me." Husker's pleas were faint. I was curled up in a ball in the corner of my room. My wings were wrapped tightly around my body and a shield of thorny vines kept Husker physically away from me. My claws were digging into the back of my neck, blood falling down my shoulders like a waterfall. My cries were loud and ear piercing.
The shadowed souls broke through my barrier and crawled over each other to reach me. They tackled me like ants on a sweet apple, hungry for my soul and the energy it could provide them. And I let them. My soul felt like it was being torn in eighteen different ways but I didn't fight back -- couldn't fight back.
Then they disappeared.
I looked around to see Lucifer sending them back and raising a bright white and gold shield in place of my shattered ones. My purple mind turned red. How dare Lucifer take away a much deserved death.
------
I pulled myself out of the dreams to see the same black souls pushing against my last shield. They were so close. They were crying out for my energy, crying out for passage, crying out of pain. They were stepping and climbing over each other. Some even tried to climb up my shield to claw through it from the top.
Voices. Voices everywhere. Voices I knew.
I will always be the master of the shadows. -- Alastor
You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough. -- Adam
This involves all of us, especially me and Husker, because we're the ones who had to deal with how it affected her. -- Reagan
Tell me, dear, how's it feel to know that all your hard work will be for nothing? No one will challenge your haven now that he's back and defending it. You won't need our deal anymore but you're still bound to it. You might even be forgotten as news picks up on his return. After all, who can trump the Radio Demon? -- Vox
She has no idea where to even begin to understand herself. And you know only one kind of magic. I am the closest thing to whatever she is. And if you'd like to keep your soulmate alive and sane, I will be working with her to keep her mind from breaking. -- Lucifer
A shadow scraped a claw on my arm. I curled up on the floor and covered my head. "Everyone shut up!" I yelled out. Alastor was pushing against my shields, too, but I wasn't letting anyone in. Not Lucifer, not Husker, not the souls, and not him.
More claws caught my back. My shield was shrinking and their arms were breaking through the shield like glass. I couldn't escape the voices. I couldn't escape my past. I couldn't escape myself. Vox had been right. Alastor had been right. Husker had been right. Everyone had been right about anything and everything. Why was I so useless? Why was I so helpless? Why did I always need saving? Wasn't I strong enough? Hadn't I come a long way?
I would never be on Alastor's level, let alone surpass him. I would always fall short. My past would always come back to haunt me. I couldn't escape. Wasn't I enough?
Something shattered.
Something sharp and aggressive burst through my shields.
Something suffocatingly hot surrounded my mind.
Alastor filled my mind. Red and green colored my vision as his magic spread through my body like wild fire. I couldn't push him away--couldn't get him out. He pulsed through me like my own blood.
Then he pulled.
But I resisted.
My claws dug into the ground as he wrapped his red arms around my torso and pulled me into the darkness; pulled me closer back to reality. I screamed and pushed against him. I didn't want to go back.
"Leave me to die!" I yelled. I tried clawing deep cuts in his arms but they bounced off like rubber. I twisted in all different directions, jumped and dropped my weight randomly, and threw my head back in an effort to hit his face.
Sharp anger poked my mind an instant before I was roughly shoved into the mattress. My eyes snapped open to his glowing, towering figure.
I brought my legs up and shoved him away, nearly sending him off the end of the bed. I untangle my legs from the sheets and tackled him, sending him the rest of the way. "How dare you!" My claws enclosed around his neck. And he let me.
I stopped.
My hands were still around his neck, as was his mind around mine, and his eyes stared blankly up at me. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why wasn't he getting angry in return?
I stood up and backed away. He stood up and fixed his coat and bow tie, eyes fixating on me a second after. Orange sun was poking through the curtains. Was it the evening?
His unemotional eyes never left me as he folded his hands behind his back. I could see the faint string connecting our hearts. It wasn't tight. It was hanging loosely between us.
I fell to my knees.
My hands covered my face.
I began to cry.
I curled inward until I was as small as I could make myself. It wasn't until Alastor laid a hand on my back that I noticed he had moved. I fell under a breath holding spell for what felt like forever.
"Breathe my dear." His voice was soft, gentle, and exactly like I remembered it. "Take it slow." He threaded a hand past my shoulder and into the curled mess. The smell of cedar wood and sweat pinched my nose and I sucked in a huge gasp of sweet air.
I made several more as my body tried to regulate its oxygen intake. Alastor spoke more comfort words until my breathing wasn't coming in wheezes anymore.
His hand was warm. So warm. So comforting.
If I let myself bask in his warmth, how much colder would it be when he disappears again?
But the warm circles he was drawing on my back were oh so relaxing. So comforting. I've been waiting eight years for this. Waiting eight years to know why he left. Waiting eight years to be moved on a deeper level once again.
"My dear, I'm here," his radioless voice cut through the silence. "I am here to stay."
Against my better judgment, I unstuck one of my hands and reached his leg that was touching my side. It felt like I was trying to soak up the sun. 
His smooth claws laid carefully, lightly, on top of my hand. It moved up to my forearm and captured my arm in his warm grip. He was real. He was here. I was touching him. He wasn't a ghost--wasn't a hallucination. 
"I am here, love." His hot breath brushed against my ear. His other arm stretched across my back and hooked on my shoulder. He gave a small tug and this time I didn't resist, allowing him to pull me out of my tight little ball. 
He shifted his position so his legs were on either side of me as I leaned against his chest. He was so warm. He began to hum, the vibrations in his chest nearly sending me back to sleep. I wrapped my arms around his narrow torso and wrapped my tail around one of his legs. 
"I hate you." I choked on a sob. "I hate you so much."
"Shh, darling. I know." One arm kept my firmly against him while the other threaded smoothly through my hair. It felt so comforting, so relaxing, and so right. Alastor the Radio Demon was being careful, gentle, and loving towards someone. And I was the lucky someone. 
"I hate you," I mumbled again. But I love you.
He placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. I love you too, he answered through our minds. The connection was back. We were back. How long would this good time last? 
He brought his hand around to my jaw and used his thumb to push my chin up. He locked eyes with me, his genuine smile stretching on his lips. He used another claw to push a small strand of hair out of my eyes. 
"There's my girl." 
And placed a soft kiss on my lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
Big thanks to @wendigonamecaller for the help/ideas on this chapter.
We got over the big hump. Now is time for the sweet stuff :P
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall
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