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phantomrose96 · 8 months ago

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Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

“God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.”

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

#sham sacrifice #danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #vlad masters #danny fenton #YELLS AND THROWS THIS AT YOU #ive been spinning around like a top on this idea #tw: suicidal ideation

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russellsppttemplates · 9 months ago

Note

Reader being self conscious with her body after having her and Charles last baby (i forgot his name im so so so sorry!) and Charles, Herve and Amelie just like complimenting her and not understanding how good it makes her feel

Note: don't worry, there are so many kids in this blog, even I have to go and check paddock daycare once in a while!

Cw: reader's insecurity about her postpartum body

You sometimes wondered if Charles noticed all the ways your body changed to accommodate motherhood, especially now having had your third baby. But then you were easily showered with compliments from everyone around you, and you swore Charles, Hervé and Amélie were having a competition on who could give you the most compliments.

"Mama! You look so pretty!", Amélie said, hugging your legs as you prepared your water bottle so you could feed baby Thomas once you sat down, "thank you, ma belle, the hairstyle papa did on you is very pretty, too", you replied.

"Papa! Have you seen mama today? She has a new dress!", Hervé pointed out as you joined the boys in the living room, "This is an old one actually, I've had it since you were a baby, Hervé", you reasoned, suddenly feeling shy with all eyes on you and also feeling a little more beautiful.

The warm temperatures called for a day outside in the pool, the kid excited to have Thomas spend a little bit of time in the water even if Charles just wet his feet since he was only a couple of weeks old, "you're not getting in, mama?", Hervé asked, "your swimsuit makes you look like a princess".

Just on cue, Thomas started crying, recognising it was his hungry cry, "I'm afraid Thomas needs me, I'll swim later", you said as Charles helped you grab Thomas so you could go and feed him.

Your little boy ended up falling asleep on your chest, milk drunk against your skin that was exposed from the neckline of the swimsuit, all while Amélie got out of the pool, wrapping herself in the towel and having Hervé follow suit once Charles mentioned snack time.

"You're so comfy to sleep on, mama", Amélie whispered as she climbed on you after you assured her it would be fine, grasping some of the fabric of your cover up and leaving your hips exposed, the stretch marks fully on show as you thought about all of it. Your body was all of your three kids' first home, providing them comfort, warmth and safety, and now that they were out, you were still those exact same things for them. And they loved you no matter what.

"Do you have room for me?", Hervé asked as he stepped closer to the sun lounger, "Come here, amour", you said as you patted your side, having Hervé cuddle up to you and resting his hand on your tummy mindlessly, sighing happily.

A few moments later, Charles stepped outside, taking the scene in front of him in and laughing loudly, "I don't suppose there's space for me on there, hm?", he smiled.

"I think we can make some room", you said, adjusting your position so Charles could lay closer to your thighs, "maybe there?", you giggled, seeing him happily scoot closer to your and intertwining your legs.

"Don't laugh, amour, I want to touch you too!", Charles said as he achieved what he wanted while his hand squeezed your thigh, "it's not my fault you are such an amazing mama and that we all want a little bit of you!", he chuckled, kissing your temple.

"You really think so?", you wondered, "this is all you, amour, how kind, amazing and great you are - why do you think I'm nearly fighting Hervé for this?", he said as the little boy kept inching closer to you, "she's my mama, you should've gotten her first", your oldest son said before Amélie let out "I agree", making him shake his head as he smiled, "thing is I did get here first, actually, like years before all of them", he chuckled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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revehae · 11 months ago

Text

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ haechan, jaemin, and jeno are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ part 2/5 of the college-capades series! connected to sexcapade.

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jeno, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

haechan was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jeno chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jeno fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, haechan approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jaemin grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

haechan snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jeno laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” haechan replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jaemin crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. haechan was johnny’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jeno’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jeno’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jeno was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jeno said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jaemin been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted johnny. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because haechan seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse johnny had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, johnny was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students.

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jaemin didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, haechan yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched haechan sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jaemin was fixed to your perky chest and jeno was watching haechan situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“haechan, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“that’s too bad, baby.” haechan wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jeno was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

haechan’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with haechan’s dad of all people, he became furious.

neither you or johnny were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, haechan saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, haechan actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jaemin chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jeno’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. haechan wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jeno wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jaemin’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while haechan was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jaemin sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when haechan pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

haechan and jeno’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, haechan moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jeno was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

haechan was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jeno commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want haechan to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed.

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “haechan, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jaemin crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of haechan with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of haechan’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jaemin for dear life.

haechan continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jaemin to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

haechan finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jaemin’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jaemin took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in haechan’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when haechan moved, jeno came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jaemin abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jaemin to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jaemin!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jaemin unabashedly more or less ate jeno’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jaemin didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jaemin liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jeno’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jeno’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jaemin, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jaemin saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

“okay, move your ass,” haechan said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jaemin was.

jaemin frowned, but moved out of the way. not because haechan told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed haechan returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jaemin spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

haechan positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

haechan snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. johnny would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. haechan, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jeno’s leftover cum facilitating the process. haechan was girthy like johnny too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “haechan, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jeno nudged jaemin, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jaemin chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jaemin approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. haechan grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.”

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but johnny’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jaemin finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jeno crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jaemin push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, haechan’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything johnny could do, haechan was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know johnny, not like you thought. the dark side haechan had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why haechan was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” haechan said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jaemin exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” haechan replied, completely degrading.

jaemin chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jeno said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks.

between haechan’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jaemin was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” haechan said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jaemin quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell haechan how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, haechan.”

haechan smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” haechan said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jaemin had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jaemin’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jaemin’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while haechan’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jaemin’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt haechan’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jeno said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread haechan’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jeno, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jeno snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jaemin frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jeno groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jeno was pressing you against the desk harder than haechan had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jeno didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jeno had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jeno’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jeno had to wallow in it more than either of them.

haechan and jaemin were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jeno couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jeno would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jeno wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jeno would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jeno hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jeno continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jeno.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jeno squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain.

“pathetic if you ask me,” haechan added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jaemin snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal.

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jeno chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jaemin chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” haechan said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jaemin retorted.

jeno quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

haechan blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move.

haechan hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jeno groaned.

haechan glanced to jaemin, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jeno’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jeno finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jeno turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

#tw: noncon #nct dream smut #lee haechan smut #lee jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream hard hours #haechan smut #jeno smut #revehae fics

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Batting Practice Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: A lazy Sunday at the park with you and Everett has Bradley wondering why he ever thought this wasn’t what he wanted. When work keeps you away from practice during the week, he’s desperate to see you and get you alone for a proper date.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley texted you on Sunday morning, asking for your address, insisting he come pick you and Everett up. He could have just looked it up in the coaching portal online, but he wanted you to send it to him instead.

When he pulled up in front of your house, he saw Everett come running out the front door. "Hey, kiddo," Bradley called as he got out of the Bronco.

"Coach! I have my glove all ready, and my mom is finishing her makeup, because she said she wants to look nice today!"

Bradley grinned and let Everett take him by the hand. "I kind of think your mom always looks nice," Bradley mumbled, and then there you were, stepping out onto your front porch with a bright smile.

You were wearing a cropped tee shirt and black leggings, and Bradley's mind took him back to making out with you yesterday.

"Hi, Coach," you said, wiggling your fingers at him as you walked down the steps.

Suddenly he had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to refrain from calling you Kitten? Did you really expect him to keep his lips away from you right now?

"I missed you," he told you, and even though he hadn't meant to say it, it was true.

"I saw you yesterday," you said with a soft laugh. "We spent a lot of time together in the kitchen."

"Not enough."

Bradley noticed Everett was looking between the two of you with curious interest. "Did you really bring Gatorade? Can we ride in your car?" Everett asked.

"Yeah, I really brought Gatorade. And yes, we can ride in my car."

"We'd have to put the booster seat in the back?" you asked cautiously.

So Bradley ended up with a car seat in the back of his Bronco, something he never imagined would have ever been happening. And then he drove all three of you to the park.

When he reached across the seat and let his hand settle on top of yours, you bit your lip, and turned your hand palm side up, lacing your fingers with his.

"Hey, Kitten?" he asked softly as he pulled into the park. You turned to face him right away, your eyes unguarded. "Thanks for letting me do this."

Bradley parked and climbed out of the Bronco before helping you and then Everett out as well.

"Okay, your mom's got a lot to learn today," Bradley told Everett, handing him a bag of gear. "Think we can help her out? She doesn't even know what a catcher's mitt is."

Everett laughed and tossed his head back. "She doesn't know what a slider is either. She just didn't want to tell you that."

"Ev, I'm standing right here," you told your son, running your fingers along his hair. But you were looking at Bradley and smirking. "And I do know what a slider is, because I watched a video on YouTube."

"Aww, come on, Kitten. You're killing me," Bradley said, handing you three bottles of cold Gatorade. "YouTube? You need some first hand experience, and Ev and I are your guys."

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

You weren't sure how to feel about Bradley calling you Kitten in front of your son, but every time he said it, you felt a little silly.

"Is this the catcher's mitt?" you asked, picking up a dusty, brown thing and holding it up.

"Sure it. Go ahead and put it on." Bradley said as he got a regular baseball glove on Everett's hand.

You thought it was too big for your hand, but you put it on anyway, waving the mitt at them. "Okay, I'm ready!"

Bradley handed Everett a baseball and jogged over to where you were standing. "Hell no, you're not, Kitten. Gotta protect that pretty face." He bent down and rummaged in the bag a little more, pulling out a weird looking mask and another Phillies cap.

"You're going to make me wear that?" you asked with a smile as he approached you.

Bradley turned to look over his shoulder to where Everett was tossing the ball into the air and catching it a few feet away. Then he turned back and kissed your lips softly. "Told you I wouldn't let you get hurt. I meant it."

He looked serious now, and you wondered if his words had a dual meaning.

"Now, let's get this cap on you first," he said, pushing your hair back behind your ears and setting it backwards on your head. "Oh, what do you know... you look cute with a backwards hat, too."

You scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, but he laughed and eased the catcher's mask over your head, securing it in place. "Perfect."

"Ready?" Everett called, starting to sound impatient. Meanwhile you wanted Bradley to keep touching you and telling you about your pretty face.

"Yeah, kiddo," Bradley called. "Just getting your mom in position." He looked down at you, wrapping both hands around your hips and guiding you back a few steps.

"Here?" you asked softly when he stopped moving you around.

"Yep," he whispered, squeezing you through your leggings. "Now, squat down like this."

You tried to imitate what he was doing, but you were getting distracted by the way his thighs looked as his gym shorts rode up higher on his legs.

"That's good," he told you before he stood up again. "Now do your best to catch them," Bradley said, grabbing a few more balls from his gear bag. "Everett and I will go easy on you. Won't we, kiddo?"

Your heart swelled as you watched Everett grin up at Bradley and laugh. "Yeah, but only at first mom!" he called out to you.

"Oh great, thanks a lot." But they weren't even listening to you. And now you could only focus on Bradley as demonstrated the correct pitching posture a few times for Everett. He was all flexing muscles and rippling biceps, and meanwhile your thighs were already starting to hurt.

"Here comes your first pitch!" he warned, winding up and sending the baseball directly into the mitt on your hand.

You jumped up in shock, still holding it. "I caught it!"

Everett was cheering, and Bradley winked at you. "Nice one, Kitten."

After you caught a few more and tossed them back, you were feeling so confident. Then you managed to catch most of the pitches that Everett threw as well, even though you had to really reach for some of them.

"So, which one do you like better? The slider or the curveball?" Bradley asked Everett after a while, and you stood up, barely even able to feel your thighs now.

"Slider!"

"Me too," Bradley agreed, getting a high five from Everett. "And guess what. That's the harder one to throw, so you're already advanced."

"No way!"

As you watched them interacting with each other, you wished you could have this in your life every Sunday. Maybe a late breakfast after lounging in bed with Bradley while Everett watched cartoons. Some time at the park, and then dinner.

All the things you never quite got to have with Danny felt somehow more attainable with Bradley. Which was really scary to you.

You cleared your throat and tossed the catcher's mitt toward the bag before trying to remove the mask, but Bradley was already on his way over to help you.

"Will you let Ev and I treat you to some ice cream as a thank you?"

He swiped his fingers along your jaw when he removed the mask, but he left his backwards hat on your head. "I would love that."

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

The ice cream shop was packed with people out enjoying the perfect San Diego spring day, but Bradley didn't mind waiting. You were standing in front of him while Everett bounced around a bit and kept asking questions.

"Will you pitch balls with me again?" Everett asked, looking up at Bradley.

"Of course, little man. You've gotta practice if you want to keep getting better." Bradley felt you lean back against him slightly, and he let his hand rest just above your ass. He was stroking the soft skin of your lower back with his thumb and running his fingers along your leggings. You turned and briefly rubbed your cheek against his chest, just like a kitten, and he wrapped his arm around you a little tighter.

"And can you show me a fastball too? And a changeup?" Everett asked, just before it was time to order.

"Not my strongest pitches, but for you, sure, kiddo. I would love to embarrass myself in front of your mom."

Everett was glancing between the two of you again as you said, "Have you forgotten that I had to watch YouTube videos about pitches? You think I'm going to know the difference?" You were looking up at Bradley and laughing, and he wanted more than anything to kiss you.

"You looked like a world class catcher today. Could have fooled me, Kitten."

Bradley tried to pay for the three ice cream cones, but you had Everett drag him away to a small bench while you paid. He sat side by side on the bench with Everett, waiting for you.

"Hey Coach, do you think my mom is pretty?"

Bradley froze with his ice cream cone halfway to his mouth and watched Everett try to eat his strawberry scoop before it melted.

"I think your mom is beautiful."

"Do you like her? I told you she was cool."

Bradley nodded as he watched you make your way over with your own cone. "She's the coolest, kiddo. Here, make some room for her to sit with us." Bradley picked Everett up with one arm and plopped him down on his thigh, and then you eased into the spot next to him.

"Thanks for the ice cream," Bradley told you softly.

You grinned at him and Everett on his lap. "Any time you want to treat Ev and I to a day in the park, I'll be more than happy to treat you to some ice cream, Coach."

Bradley finished his cone and then let Everett ask him a bunch of baseball related questions while his strawberry scoop melted. He watched it drip on his jeans, but he didn't really care.

"Ev, eat faster! It's melting onto Coach," you scolded, jumping up to get some napkins.

Bradley tried to stop you, telling you it would come out in the laundry, but you insisted on wiping up the ice cream which landed basically right where his dick was. So he slid Everett into the spot you vacated while you bent down and tried your best to clean him up.

"Kitten," he rasped. "Please. It's okay." If you kept rubbing him, he was going to get hard. On a bench. In front of your son.

"Are you sure?" you asked, and your hand paused on his thigh as he nodded at you. "Danny would have had a living fit."

Bradley took your hand and rubbed it with his thumb. "Yeah, well, I'm not Danny."

You looked at him as you stood up tall again. "Ain't that the truth," you mumbled, but your eyes stayed on his.

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

When Bradley walked you and Everett up to your porch, you watched Ev hug him tight. "See you at practice tomorrow?"

"Yep, see you tomorrow," Bradley replied, messing up his hair before Everett went inside.

"Thanks for today," you whispered as Bradley's big hands settled on your hips. "That meant a lot to him."

"I had fun," Bradley said with a smile as he pulled you a little closer to him. You let your hands rest on his broad chest, and a little gasp escaped your lips before you were even kissing him. But then you were, and it felt so good. His lips were gentle, and his hands were firm, and your body wanted more.

"Can't wait to see which sexy pantsuit you wear to practice tomorrow, Kitten," he mumbled against your neck, prickling you with his mustache.

You giggled as his lips made their way down to the top of your shirt. "I'm not going to be there tomorrow."

He paused and asked, "Why not?"

"I have a late meeting. Molly is going to take him to practice. And speaking of Molly..."

"Yeah?" Bradley asked, looking at you with a small grin. "What did your reliable sister who is more than willing to watch Everett for you have to say?"

You started giggling again, and Bradley pulled you so your body was flush with his. You knew you were on your front porch, and you knew Ev could pop back outside at any time. But you let Bradley hold you, because you wanted him to.

"Molly said she can watch him on Friday night. If you feel like going out?"

"Fuck, yes," he said, kissing your cheek. "I have it all planned. Let me know when to pick you up."

You felt warm inside for the rest of the evening, because Bradley would be yours on Friday night. No sharing him with Everett or Sandra or Coach Bob or the other kids on the team. All yours.

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

Bradley really missed you at Monday's practice. He had nobody to look at on the bleachers. The few times he glanced over, his heart skipped a beat, because Molly did look quite a bit like you. But then he just sighed in disappointment.

He did, however, notice that Bob was looking toward your sister with some frequency. That was interesting. He would definitely have to ask Bob about that later on.

Bradley wasn't even surprised when Bob suddenly joined him to walk Everett and Molly to the parking lot when practice ended. Bradley ended up trailing behind the two of them with Everett on his shoulders, watching them chat the whole way.

"Hey, Everett," Bradley asked. "Does your Aunt Molly have a boyfriend?"

"Not anymore," Everett replied. "She told me she had to break up with Casey because he was tiny, but I don't really get it because he was really tall."

Bradley had to bite his lip to prevent himself from laughing out loud. "Oh, okay. Poor Casey," Bradley muttered.

Bradley helped get Everett settled in Molly's car before heading to his Bronco to text you. He noticed that Bob was still hanging out with Molly after he had walked away, and he could occasionally hear Molly's laughter. Lord, she thought he was funny! Hopefully he was bigger than Casey.

Bradley thought about mentioning Bob and Molly to you, but he thought better of it.

Kitten, I missed you today. Are you still in your meeting? Are you coming to practice on Thursday?

Bradley watched Molly pull out of the parking lot, waving to Bob as she went. "Bob! Come here!" Bradley called out his open window. He watched his friend turn around and head his way.

"What's up?" Bob asked him, leaning against the side of the Bronco. Bradley just smirked at him, and almost instantly, Bob started blushing. Bradley smirked harder, and Bob adjusted his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck. "I noticed her when she came to practice last time, too. Are you going to make fun of me for having a crush on her?"

Bradley started laughing. "Not at all. She's really nice. And Everett said his Aunt Molly is single."

"Is she really?" Bob asked softly as a grin spread across his face.

"Yep. The kid is a wealth of information."

Bob just mumbled something and walked away with a wave, leaving Bradley alone as you texted him back.

You sent a selfie of you smiling in what Bradley assumed was your office. He could see your cream colored lace top peeking out of your gray suit coat.

Kitten. I should not find your business attire this sexy, baby.

Once again, instead of responding with text, you send him another photo, one in which you had removed your suit coat. Bradley was staring at your tits straining against your lacy tank top, nipples peaked against the delicate looking fabric. You were smirking at him.

Fuck, his mind took him to your office, you sitting in your chair with his face buried in your pussy. He'd eat you until you were screaming.

It's not nice to tease, Kitten.

He was now sitting in the parking lot at the ballfield with an erection, and he wasn't even surprised. He started up the Bronco and drove home where he could take care of himself.

By Thursday, when he laid eyes on you at tee ball practice, it was like he finally felt his body relax. Everett bounded over to him as usual before going to greet Bob, but Bradley was watching you try to change into your old sneakers while you walked through the grass. You were wearing your tight, black skirt again, and your hair was pulled up off of your neck.

"Jesus," he mumbled before fielding some questions from Sandra and the other moms about the upcoming schedule.

When you were seated on the bleachers, and practice was about to begin, Bradley debated heading your way and giving you a kiss on your cheek, but Bob was already blowing his whistle to start practice.

Bradley watched you raise your hand from your lap and wiggle your fingers at him, moutching, "Hi, Coach," while you smirked.

Alone. He'd get you alone tomorrow. He loved Everett, but he was antsy to really get to be with you. But he could wait one more day to kiss you and taste your skin. So he just winked and joined Bob near home plate.

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

Practice was pretty typical on Thursday, except now your body was humming the whole time. You knew exactly what Coach Bradley's lips tasted like. You know how heavy his hands felt on your hips. You knew how he smelled and sounded when he was right in front of you, teasing your body.

"Tara, I can't stop thinking about the swim party last weekend. Both coaches shirtless? A literal dream come true."

"Same. And I'm one thousand percent sure Coach Bradley flirted with me when I was getting a slice of pizza."

You wanted to snort. You were standing five feet away from him the entire time he'd been in the clubhouse getting pizza, and neither of those moms had been anywhere near him.

But it didn't matter, because as soon as practice ended and you were helping Everett change out of his cleats, Bradley made his way over to both of you, right in front of everyone just like he always did.

"Nice hustle today, kiddo," he told Everett, earning him a high five.

You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder as you tucked Everett's cleats into his gear bag. He reached down to help you stand, and his other hand brushed along your butt.

"I expect a nice hustle out of you tomorrow night," you told him, giggling as his eyes went wide. "It's going to be our first date and all."

He just shook his head, walking up to the parking lot with Everett between you both. "Nope. It's our third," he said.

"What? No, our first!" you insisted, trying to keep the conversation vague for your son's ears. You still weren't convinced that going out with his tee ball coach was your best move, but you couldn't stop yourself now.

"Snack bar was our first. Now, I wasn't on my best game, but you did come back for round two with baseball in the park."

You were cracking up now. He considered soft pretzels and an outing with Everett to be dates? Oh, you were going to melt. You'd never make it. He was a single mom's dream date.

"So you don't mind that sometimes there's a tagalong?" you ask, nearing your car where it was parked next to his Bronco.

Bradley opened the back door for Everett, gave him a fit bump and then closed it as Everett got himself buckled in.

"I don't mind. As long as I can get Kitten alone on occasion. Really want to see your claws again."

You grabbed at his jersey, and Bradley immediately had you pushed back against your car door with his lips on yours. It was broad daylight, there were still some people in the parking lot, and Everett was in the backseat. But Bradley's hands were grabbing at your hips, and you could feel him through his thin athletic shorts as you moaned his name.

"Fuck," he gasped against your lips, kissing you hard one more time. "Get in your car, Kitten. Before I embarrass myself. I'll pick you up tomorrow night."

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

Kitten and Ev plus Coach. It just makes sense! Fair warning, the next part will be for ages 18+. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 9

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

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cameronspecial · 7 months ago

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HIII I love your Dad!Drew Starkey x reader and I seen this video and I was wondering if you can write something about is with Dad!Drew Starkey x Black!reader? https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5v1u4kp62A/?igsh=MW1pZTBxOXJ1NnM3MQ==

If not just ignore this and please tag me in it💛

Save Me, Daddy

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

A/N: This isn't Black!Reader exactly because I try to write the reader as neutral as possible. I hope that it is okay. Also, I am sorry I can't tag you because you are in anonymous mode. If you are off of it, then it will automatically inform you when I post the requests. If you want to join my taglist, then feel free to contact me in anyway.

Masterlist

Being a parent is never easy, Y/N knew that coming into it. Nevertheless, Wilson always finds a new way to make it not simple for his mother. She leaves the three-year-old on the couch, watching TV, to go to the bathroom. When she returns, she finds the lotion that was on the side table is now on the floor with her son. His small hand repeatedly pressing the pump makes it worse. Globs of white shoot out of the hole and onto the carpet, releasing the eucalyptus scent into the air. “WILSON XAVIER STARKEY, what are you doing?” she exclaims. The little boy freezes and turns to his mother with wide eyes. “Hi, Mommy,” he tries to play off. He hasn’t grown into his father’s acting skills because his guilt is written all over his face. If he becomes a criminal when he grows up, she really hopes he gets better at acting or else she might have to spend his teenage years picking him up from jail. She shakes her head, “Don’t hi, Mommy me,” she criticizes. Their head turns to the sound of the front door opening and at the appearance of his father in the doorway, Wilson goes dashing towards the male with the grocery bags.

“Hey there, Slugger. What’s with the running?” Drew comments, laughing as Wilson wraps around his legs. Y/N points toward the dry lotion, “Look at what your son did. It’s my new expensive lotion too.” His eyes flick to the scene of the crime, stifling a laugh at the scene in front of him. “This isn’t funny, Drew. It’s a mess,” she lectures him, almost as if he is the one to make it. He throws on a neutral expression and nods. “You’re are right and Wils is going to clean it up. Then we’ll go to the store to buy you a new lotion for when that one runs out,” he offers. She looks between him and her son, “Yes, you will. Wilson, go get some paper towels from the kitchen.

The small boy runs off and they can hear his stool being moved a little so he can grab the roll. He rushes back, getting to work immediately. A sheet of paper falls on the lotion puddle and he begins to scrub. Satisfied that he is working, she turns to her husband. “Watch him, please. I’m going to go take a bath.” Without another word, she begins to make her way upstairs. Wilson looks behind him to see his mom out of sight and turns his attention to his dad. “Save me, Daddy, please,” he whispers. Except, Y/N isn’t far enough and she hears his pleas, “Nope, you made the mess, Wilson. You clean it.” The young boy’s head whips back to his cleaning, but he looks up at Drew with big eyes. Drew gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Sorry, Slugger. This is Mommy’s world and we are just living in it.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#drew #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic #dad!drew starkey #dad!drew

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an-abyss-of-stars · 4 months ago

Text

𖤓 Don't You Dare Do This Without Me 𖤓

Pairing: Rhaena x Aemond

Warnings: Smutty hints...mainly consensual

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Rhaena THOUGHT she was merely dismissing her husband's call for affection after an argument. Little did she know, her rebuffing had instead sent her petulant husband off on a tirade to burn an enitre village to ash.

Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ao3

Note: (THIS fic is intended to be a little mini-series. It's a piece of a plot I've been toying around with for a month or two. A Dark King Aemond story with Queen Rhaena grappling with her horrid situation. I do have an entire long form story/idea for this premise, that would start immediately after the war and span over several years. It would be much darker than this smutty snippet, like practically 'dead dove' really! But this little fun fic here entered my brain and I just figured I'd throw it out here as a mini 5-6 part thingy.)

So hopefully it's an enjoyable little something something!!

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"I can't believe him, I can't fuc-" Rhaena's anger induced muttering died upon her tongue as she stepped into her shared royal chambers, her feet halting almost immediately as her legs stiffly stood right in front her three-year-old son. Little Aemon had run up to her as soon as the doors flew open, rushing to hug her skirts as he stared up at her expectantly.

What was he doing here?

It was early, still the middle of the afternoon, she was certain that by all accounts her toddler should only be nearing the end of lessons now. Not dawdling around in her chambers to play-

"Darling! Sweetling, you are early," Rhaena schooled her previously set scowl into a bright affectionate smile, lilting her voice as her eyes took in the visage of her charming little boy. It was beginning to feel like such an effort, schooling her emotions from her son these days, seeing as he seemed to be so perceptive already. Any slight twinge upon her face, and his sweet little face would scrunch into a look of instant concern for his mother's wellbeing. Followed by the little hand he'd place upon her leg before he asked 'are you well, mama?'.

It was a wonder where he'd managed to inherit such sweetness, surely not from his father.

With a gentle sigh, Rhaena began to crouch herself down to Aemon's level, careful to keep her balance as her swollen belly carried a true weight to it now. Her back felt it, her thighs and her knees worked to compensate for it. Offset the weight she'd put on for the health of this third babe. Though she was eight moons along, so she was nearly to term. It was a motion she navigated with skill now, for she knew her body well and so she knew her limits when it came to this stage of her pregnancies. Soon enough she'd seat herself down or lay abed for an hour or two before the ache creeping along her calves worked down to her swollen feet.

In the meantime, however, she placed a soft hand upon her eldest son's check and smiled warmly at him. Eliciting an equally dazzling giggle from her little boy, the adorable sound almost immediately soothed her heart. Allowing her to push aside the stresses of the day, the endless aggravation only her husband could muster within her, just long enough to focus in on her child. Meeting his gaze, she sought to pry just a tad, "what of your lessons in the library, sweet one? Have they truly concluded or have you managed to escape from your maester yet again?"

At that, Aemon teetered on his toes for a moment. His hand absentmindedly holding onto Rhaena's shoulder for balance as he happily gurgled at the playful accusation. Gently biting his thumb with his free hand, a near bashful blush spread upon the apples of his cheeks as his attention was just as quickly drawn away. Distracted already, the mop of curly platinum blonde hair that reached the nape of his neck swished with the motion he'd made. His pale cinnamon brown skin glowing in the rays of the afternoon sun.

Ah, dear...she did love her son dearly, but his mind did tend to wander off all too easily at times. If he was not obsessively focused on something of his interest, his mind was liable to dawdle. It was Rhaena who had to work to lure his attention back to her, nudging his chubby cheek with the caress of her thumb. Adding an accompanying prodding hum for him to both listen and follow the sound.

Thankfully it was enough, her toddler was quick to turn back to her. His distraction, the glittering rays of beaming sunlight, had poured in through the paneled windows of the room. Illuminating everything within sight of the spacious solar, the various deep crimson red furniture, the large round oak table that was just off center. It was still covered with stacked books and rolled scrolls that Aemond had left out to continue analyzing later in the day. Toys still remained scattered by the fire upon the maroon fur carpet, Rhaena supposed Aemon had been sat there waiting for her return. Most likely playing there with his young wet-nurse, Elaya.

The nineteen-year old maid from the Riverlands was currently sat by the fire in one of the cozier armchairs, rocking Rhaena's second born son, Daemion, in her arms. Now, Daemion shared many features with his elder brother, the same almond eye-shape and rounded bow-shaped lips…both a blend of their parentage. They held the same curly hair texture, although, Daemion’s little tuft of curls shone more silver than Aemon’s blonde in the sunlight. And Aemon’s skin was slightly paler than Daemion’s. His eyes were a shade of bright lilac as opposed to Aemon’s pale indigo. Daemion’s little button nose reminded Rhaena more of her own than Aemond’s, although the point at the end of it still spoke of the boy’s inheritance from his father.

In either case, little Daemion’s eyes were levelled low as he relaxed in the arms of his wet-nurse. It was to be expected, Rhaena had only nursed the babe but an hour ago, so it was more than likely that her one-year old was simply feeling the drowsy calls of his milk-filled stomach. She'd left her younger son in the safe arms of her trusted wet-nurse perhaps a half hour ago when she'd initially left her chambers to visit her twin sister, Baela.

In the case of her eldest, however, Rhaena knew well that the bright afternoon sun was an enticing thing to a young Targaryen. It promised games in the garden, playful training in the training yard...but most of all, it promised the possibility for dragon riding. Aemon was newly minted in the activity, having gone for his first flight with his father just a few days ago. It was all he would talk of, on and on he happily talked the ears off of anyone who'd listen. From Maesters to maids, to his aunt, Baela, to his uncle Aegon, and especially to his equally young cousins Maegelle and Laena. The two daughters Baela had birthed for her husband under Aemond's reign as King. All of a part of rebuilding their family's line, restoring the Targaryen bloodline.

A bloodline Aemond more than single handedly destroyed himself...but Rhaena had gone down that road before. It never led anywhere, it never returned what she'd lost.

It was easier to focus on what she did have. The title of Queen may have been thrusted upon her, as well as her first born son...but she'd found her stride. Settled herself into motherhood, her new station, her new title, her seat next to the throne. She'd even willingly taken to her main duty as Queen, found her own pleasure in conceiving her second and soon to be third child. She'd found her way to loving and at times controlling the psychopathic irate dragon she'd been made to call 'husband'.

Besides, he had his moments, she supposed, he was always good to their sons and their nieces. He quite frankly adored all of the young children they’d brought into the world for House Targaryen. He was prideful over their very existence, especially that of their own two sons. He spent every moment in their presence showing them love and acceptance. Their young princes were dotted on ever since their births, they wanted for nothing. They were always made to feel wanted. A sense of innate yet nurturing compensation on Aemond's part, Rhaena was sure. He went wordlessly about it, but she could surmise that he wished to give his sons everything he did not have in his youth.

Everything his own father failed to deliver.

As seen by the flight he'd taken Aemon on, their little boy had loved flying upon Vhagar so much. The experience improved greatly by the fact that Aemond had eagerly taken the time to indulge their son of his own accord. Vhagar was the most magnificent dragon to her young son, his favourite of all that he'd seen in his little life.

And that was why he'd loved that day more than any other.

Though it was unfortunate, Rhaena always thought.

For while she agreed, Vhagar was a magnificent dragon, a relic of times long gone...a living piece of history. But she couldn't help but think that her young Aemon had missed a truly glorious age of dragons, he'd never be able to meet his true Targaryen grandparents or two of his other aunts…the rest of his uncles. He'd never be able to see any of their dragons...Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Meleys...so many lost. So many gone...and sometimes four years seemed just long enough to put the darkness behind her, to call it all history so that she might distance herself from the pain of it all.

But other times, it was just too blatant...just too obvious.

So many members of her family were missing from this current family portrait. The chasms were there, Rhaena’s current life would always lack because of their absence. The vacant holes they'd made upon her person, upon her heart, forever cutting slivers away from her there. No amount of new Targaryen babes could replace them.

They were all dead and gone...and she was made Queen of the rubble in the aftermath, wed to a kinslayer...the second usurper King.

What a fate.

And her little son knew none of it truly.

"No, mama! I finished, my lessons are all done! Maestwer...um...maestwer Alfa...Alfadwer-" Aemon blurted out his little rambled response, finally recalling that he'd been asked a question nearly ten minutes prior. He'd taken so long, Rhaena's mind had drifted to far darker memories. Though as she'd learned through her experience with motherhood, it didn't do to dwell on such things with children around. They always noticed it...they weren't naive enough to miss it entirely.

"Maester Alfador, you mean," Rhaena gently corrected, smoothing a couple of his curls back behind his ear.

Aemon was quick to nod eagerly, pointing towards Elaya to add, "yes and...and he told Elaya how papa went out!"

'Out' was putting it mildly, for while Rhaena knew not the extent of Maester Alfador's knowledge on the matter at hand. She did however know exactly what sent Aemond 'out' of the castle just a few hours ago. As she recalled it, Rhaena had received the order from the Kingsguard guarding her door earlier this morn.

See, earlier in the morning, before the sun had properly risen. Rhaena had awoken to a rather...regularly expected act, a warm delicious pleasure that crept up between her thighs in long wet languid swipes. The feeling seeped into her peaceful slumber until the aching arousal dragged her back into consciousness. Where she'd awoken to find her husband settled between her legs, his arms tangled around her thighs keeping them spread as he lapped at her quivering wanting cunt.

Eventful as it was... she'd awoken to many mornings with such activities to pull her from her sleep. Aemond was always eager, he had been ever since he’d stolen her from the Vale and made her his wife. Only now the urges seemed heightened, especially since she began to reciprocate his wantings. The conception of little Daemion was the birth of these feelings...and now the conception of another babe barely a year later had shown the realm and their present court that their union was—mending.

Into what, exactly?

Something feral and animalistic, surely. A complicated mess of attraction, love and loathing.

In either case, once Aemond had brought her to the brink of ecstasy itself...he pressed a kiss upon her rounded belly and readied himself for the training yard. From there, she hadn't seen him. Assumably he'd returned to bathe and dress himself again for the early morning council meeting, but she'd fallen back to sleep in-between that time. Only normally, he would have woken her. Normally, they'd have readied for the meeting with his council together...she'd negotiated that right of hers from her husband after the birth of Daemion. As his Queen, she wanted a spot upon his council, to be an active participant in his rule. Time after time, whether it was another one of their vicious volatile arguments between them or an instance of a sweet and tender domesticity as they lazed naked within their bed. Aemond had spent the last two years echoing the sentiment to her, that she was more than just his broodmare.

And then he did this.

He removed her from the council this morning. Without even the gall to tell her himself, he left for the meeting without her and then left the information for their guard to relay to her.

Of course, later upon his return, when Rhaena was properly woken. Bathed and dressed herself in a lovely velvety gown, a dark Targaryen red with intricate black lace linings. With added black lace and sewn jeweled dragons and floral embroidery woven along her bodice and the hem of her skirt. She'd been sat upon her favourite chaise, providing their second son with his early morning feeding.

That was when Aemond burst through the doors with a look of exhaustion and a need for attention.

A need she had no intention of abiding by as he sought to exclude her so soundly this morn with no warning once so ever. In all honesty it had tainted the way she'd sweetly awoken in bed with him, as clearly that was more than just his hungered need to taste her first thing in the morn. As it was just as equally his act of service to placate her for what he had planned on doing all along.

As it happened, Rhaena had burped their babe upon her shoulder, before she swiftly handed him off to Elaya to take to the nursery. It was only once the young wet-nurse had left the room that Aemond moved for Rhaena. Taking long strides to meet her upon the chaise, she'd scoffed at him then, knowing exactly what he wanted. His heated gaze lingered on her still exposed bosom, lustful and wanting...though she was too annoyed with him to indulge him.

Perky and engorged as they were, she knew he more than likely wished to lay with her. To rest his head upon her swollen breasts as she caressed his hair and allowed him to unwind from his otherwise stressful meeting. And perhaps, had she'd been present for said meeting...or at the very least privy to the information that had been shared or delved into there...she would have sympathized. She would have given him exactly what he wanted, she'd placate him, hold him as he sometimes wishes to be cuddled.

But no, not then.

Instead she pulled the buttons of her chemise closed, lifting herself up off of the chaise, she walked around him and made her way to the long ornamented wall-length mirror that stood on the northern side of their chambers. There she stared purposely at her reflection only, working to ignore the way his perplexed expression morphed into one of burning irritation. As Rhaena casually touched up the ends of a few of her long loosening twists, it would soon be time to undo them, free her curls and wash her hair. A task she'd take to later this evening before bed.

In the moment, however, Rhaena focused on herself. The vast majority of her maternity gowns had elegant buttons upon the front of the gown, made for easier access to nurse her babe at any given time of the day. A stipulation that had always been a part of her marriage, Aemond would have no one but her to nurse their children.

Though it was in that mirror's reflection that their argument had started. He'd made his way towards her, and she'd turned her dragon's fire directly upon him. Perhaps she'd been warranted in it, that inundated rage of feeling belittled and undermined felt all too consuming for her to ignore in the face of Aemond's condescending rebuttals. That she was apparently in no 'condition' to need to be present for council meetings, that she would be filled in on the most ‘pertinent information’ when needed.

Perhaps it was her body now, so late in her pregnancy, hormones ran amok fluttering dangerous levels of heightened emotions throughout her. Though even still, she was certain of it.

He was sidelining her...she could feel it.

And she didn't know why.

‘Confinement’ felt like such a half-assed answer.

He was hiding things from her and yet he still sought rewards for such blatant behaviour. Was it any wonder she denied him those rewards, she was in no mood to lay tangled in bed with him. She was in no mood to allow him to nuzzle his cheek upon her ample chest while he caressed her belly and teased her core with soft presses of his slender fingers. She knew him far too well for that. The progression of him starting off by claiming that he just wished for her to 'set him at ease'. Only, within the hour he'd seduce her to the point of having her gown torn off with his cock working her with rough deep wanting strokes.

It was something he could never resist, especially when she was this far along with one of her pregnancies. All he wanted was to be inside of her, to feel her heated walls clenched tightly around thick length. His ever constant need to sink into her warmth, soak himself in her wetness. All as he held her tightly against him, nestled between her thighs as he rocked into her with perfect rhythm. Set at a pace of his choosing, with his teeth grazing her neck marking her body. And that ironclad grip of his, enough to set bruises, enough to make her shudder with want…the sort of hold that prevented the mere idea of escape.

Letting her go...it was never an option, it always seemed a foreign concept to him.

This would have been no different and seeing as she was cross with him. She chose to stand her ground, to hold fast to her willpower against his handsome seductive charms. It was a hard thing sometimes these days, seeing as her body almost always wanted for him...a true traitor, really. Her body had always betrayed her when it came to him. Ever since her early days, even when she firmed her way through every bedding session. Even the nights she cried through the utter heartbreak of allowing the acts done upon her…in the name of her safety…in the name of her duty.

It’d been disgusting then, to think that her body had still enjoyed it even when her mind screamed the opposite. The thought of taking in the cock of the man who’d killed her first love, her second love…her grandmother…and then her father.

Perhaps some days still…she found herself disgusted with herself. Because she didn’t hate it as much as she should anymore…because she’d found her way to enjoying it all.

Surely the Gods’ frowned upon her.

Thankfully, though, in that moment, when she denied him she stood by it. And because she stood so harshly against his whims, he stormed out of their rooms. A dark thunderous slam of pent up aggression and building animosity, he needed a different outlet seeing as his preferred choice had repudiated him. And in that knowledge, Rhaena knew well that he'd only ever go to Vhagar next.

In this world Aemond Targaryen had two sanctuaries.

Vhagar…and Rhaena, herself.

And if one would not have him…then he’d storm his way over to the one that would.

That however, had been several hours ago now. Rhaena had spent the rest of her morning in peace, she'd bathed and dressed Aemon herself. It was a good distraction from her own frustrations. She broke her fast with her young son, watched on as he ate his oats and banana slices messily. Biting back small amused smiles as she corrected his loose hold of his spoon and dabbed a napkin to his grubby mouth. Nibbling on her own custard pastry, delicately sipping her spiced tea in between. Their meal had been nice, they'd spoken about the day's activities her son wished to partake in. The lessons he was most excited to learn about today, as well as his hope to go flying with his father again later in the afternoon.

Seeing as Morning was still growing, now a much larger beast over the last four years...she was still too small for Rhaena to fly upon herself. Let alone for her to take her son up with her. No, the choices were limited. Aemon could either fly with his father upon Vhagar, with his aunt upon Moondancer, or his uncle upon Sunfyre. As his own little golden hatchling, Golding...was his current name for his bonded beast, the he-dragon was still far too small for him to mount. Though Golding was surely a temporary name as Aemond intended on convincing their son to choose a more suited name for the dragon. But that was a conversation they'd have to shelf for now. Aemon was still a toddler and so he quite enjoyed the name he'd chosen.

In either case, as Aemon's choice for dragons to fly upon was scarce...he would always choose Vhagar first, he was painfully enamoured with every facet of his father. Even the less than savoury parts of him.

Once Maester Alfador came to fetch Aemon for his lessons to attend with his cousins, Rhaena turned her attention back to her younger son. Playing letter blocks with Daemion, reading to him and singing lullabies as he grew sleepy in her arms. She'd taken him and sat upon the balcony overlooking the courtyard so that her babe could take some sun and fresh air as he slept soundly, there she listened to sounds of the busy castle. The birds chirping in the wind and the distant roars of the dragons near the pits.

And there she'd thought of Vhagar and her husband. There was so much she still wished to say, so much he'd simply chosen to walk out on just because he could. With the full freedom that came with the title of King...he expressed that power either as intelligently as he wished or as childishly as a man of four and twenty could.

But now with Aemon in her company once again, she'd have to deal with the boy’s father, Aemond later...once he returned from his petulant flight upon Vhagar... she'd deal with him then.

Returning her focus to her son, she pressed a sweet kiss upon Aemon's forehead. Gazing down into his pale indigo eyes, a mirror of his father's own. In fact, in all honesty…Aemon's entire visage was simply a little mirror to Aemond's own. They shared the same face shape...or at least the pudgy round face Aemond once held in childhood. It was a good indicator for the features their son would one day mature into. The two of them also shared near identical noses and lip shapes. Although, Rhaena's own added genes had ensured that the tip of Aemon's nose was just a tad bit more rounded. His lips more rounded than Aemond's own plush sharp bow-shaped lips.

It was in the little things, Rhaena supposed. How their son had inherited her curly hair, a pinch of her tawny complexion. Her soft curved eyebrows and her almond shaped eyes.

Yet still, all in all, their son was the living embodiment of a namesake, one Aemond had purposely bestowed upon their first child. Either to flood his own ego or in a dubious if not blindingly obvious attempt to flaunt his supposed legitimate reign over the one he'd stolen. The one he’d slaughtered in order to usurp the throne.

Though surely the realm was privy to the fact that it was Rhaena's own blood that made their son and the rest of their children so pure, they'd made both a purebred Valyrian heir and a spare for the throne. A union that started with a form of forced coerced duty...now led by something far more complicated.

Something that existed between the bounds of love and hatred.

For the moment, Rhaena gave her son leave to return to his toys. He'd want to play with her, but she needed a moment to herself first. She'd only just returned from spending some time with her sister in the gardens, where she'd divulged a splintered version of the events of this morning. Not that it mattered really, Baela may have joined Rhaena in their unified ridiculing of their King. But at the end of the day Baela would remind Rhaena of the same fact she always had, that Aemond Targaryen was a fickle psychotic being…and that she should be careful to never push the bounds and risk her life in the process.

Because she’d already done so years ago…she’d already made such attempts in the past. And while she still had her life granted to her, she did not walk away the victor in those situations.

So in that way, her elder sister’s advice had always been sound…but it was hard to swallow at times. Seeing as Rhaena’s forced marriage barely compared to the near bliss Baela was lucky enough to experience with her own spouse. In their case, her union with Aegon was a long time coming, a match Baela had hoped for since she was six and ten. Though it was a shame that just as she'd gotten used to the idea of marrying their sweet and loyal Jace...he'd been plucked from their lives.

Although Rhaena always supposed that as devastating as his loss was, he was spared in a way. For while he’d come to love his betrothed, his daring Baela…she…she still secretly harboured feelings for the enemy. The night before Viserys had died, Baela had spent one final night with Aegon before he was set to wed Helaena. She'd left that passionate encounter with the settling seed of a man she was most likely to never see again. The Gods, though, they could be funny in that way. Tearing the realm apart, bathing a family in blood and tragedy only for the fates to align yet again. For Baela to finally have Aegon as she once wished, just in time to make her not-so hidden pregnancy legitimate before it was too late. Only now both their hands were tainted. War had taken both Jace and Helaena. War had taken everyone away from the dragon twins except their lone grandsire, Corlys Velaryon and his now legitimized heir Alyn Velaryon.

*KNOCK, KNOCK...KNOCK*

The pounding knock at the door drew Rhaena back out of her thoughts once again, she was losing it slowly but surely. She really did need her husband to return, she needed to clear her own mind...she needed to focus on something, anything else. The knock was hard, blunt and formulaic, it could have only belonged to a member of the Kingsguard. So when Rhaena swung the door open to see Ser Willis Fell, she was not surprised to come face to face with his hardened visage. Expressionless as he was, the redheaded man simply stepped aside for a young squire to hold out a silver platter in front of their Queen.

"For you, my Queen. A raven hath just arrived," the young lanky boy bowed his head, as a sign of sheepish reverence and respect.

A small scroll.

A missive.

How odd.

Tumultuous as this reign had been over the years, at this point in time, nothing beyond yet another rebellion could warrant the urgency of a missive like this.

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Part 2 coming soon...maybe Friday!

#aemond targaryen #rhaena targaryen #rhaena x aemond #aemond x rhaena #rhaemond #hotd fanfic #hotd #catch my ass posting Rhaemond now that s2 has effectively soured everyone's feelings for the show and these characters all together 🤣💀#ANYWAYS #instead of working on the series i already have on-going 😭😭😭#here's a mini-part fic I started!!#YES there will be smut #Don't You Dare Do This Without Me

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wutheringcaterpillar · 1 year ago

Text

An Unfair Loss

Summary: Thomas realizes that his results were switched with yours, and you had developed the curse Ruby had.

-Based off season 6 finale.

-Kinda proofread, kinda didn't. I feel like this was kinda rushed but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mention of suicide

Gun to his temple, he cocked it, ready to fire until he heard an all too familiar voice, his little Ruby.

Looking out into the field of green, he saw his baby girl running toward him with her small legs. He met her halfway pulling her into his warm embrace.

“Did Aunt Polly send you? Oh it feels so wonderful to have you in my arms one last time.” Tommy was panting, and the little girl held him tight so he knew she was really there before she spoke.

“You’re not even sick daddy.”

“But I am my darling. I’m closer to death as we speak.” The child shook her head vigorously, looking in the distance before turning back to her dad.

“No daddy not true, you’ve got to live, for Y/N.” Thomas’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what she was trying to say.

“What do you mean? Her exams came back clean Ruby. What do you-“ She guided her arm to the side, her hand pointing over at the fire. Thomas followed her gaze.

“It’s in the papers daddy. I’ve got to go.” She hugged her father once more, before vanishing in the distance in the field of grass and scattered flowers. Tommy watched, wishing that he had been faster, and had been a better dad in not putting business first but his family first. He wasn’t sure that he was doing that now, since he rushed off not telling you or anyone else where he was going, but he was sure that everyone assumed what he set off to do.

The corner of the paper flowed in the wind underneath the piles of sticks on top of them. His daughter may have been young, but deep down Thomas knew she was smart, far too brilliant for her age, so who was he to doubt her.

Standing up on his feet, his legs felt like jelly as he made his way over to the pit. He picked up the ripped page, eyeing it conspicuously. He took note of Oswald and his wife, and then looked at the bigger picture, and what he saw he couldn’t believe. His doctor, whom he trusted with his own health, was standing next to them in a photograph.

“Son of a bitch.” He didn’t waste one moment before he began to run on foot to the man’s house.

Alfred turned to get in his car, that was not working. “What the hell, how did-“ When he went to close the door Thomas’s arm was wrapped around his neck while he pointed the gun at the side of his temple. Alfred stumbled in his grip, trying to get out but Tommy was far too strong for him to take on.

“You’ve been my doctor for three years now, didn’t realize how well connected you were Alfred. You made me believe I was going to die soon, and knew that I’d rather off myself. Made me believe my wife was in good health. That’s me assuming that’s who you switched my results with eh?” He tightened his grip around the man’s small, fragile throat, making his voice strained when he responded.

“Ye-Yes.”

Thomas forced him onto the hard ground on his knees, while at a fast pace me moved his gun toward the front of the scared man’s face, resting it upon his forehead and cocking it.

“Wait! Wait! You and your wife are both sick. The amount of people you have killed in cold blood and the both of you just stood by, not explaining yourselves to the grieving families.” Tommy rolled his eyes in response, hardening the gun to the man’s head.

“But- but, I think because of your children and your family, you are a changed man. You’re not going to shoot me Tommy.” A dark chuckle escaped from Tommy’s plush, pale lips.

“You see that’s where you’re wrong I am. I’m a changed man until it involves my fucking wife, and my fucking children, Alfred.” In an instant, the echo of his gun firing swam through the neighborhood. People looked through their windows to see what had happened but immediately escaped their windows once they realized it was Thomas Shelby.

Patting down his suite, he exited the property, and walked back to the home he shared with you.

As he walked in the quaint weather, he couldn’t help but watch kids running around, and notice happy families. Why was it he never got to be happy? Grace was taken away, Lizzie was too much, but you? He had never seen a woman be such an amazing mother to his children or treat him the way you did. He knew it was unfair of him to run off on you, not saying a word but he was trying to protect you in not seeing him wither away. Who knew it would be him having to watch you slowly deteriorate.

“Mummy! Mummy! Daddy’s home?” Charlie heard her and came rushing down the stairs to look out the window.

“Milly we’ve talked about this he-“ You were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You stopped putting away the laundry and approached the living room quickly. Maybe someone had news of Thomas’s whereabouts, or worse maybe he was dead.

When you passed through the doorway, you felt like you were looking at a ghost, a panicked ghost at that. There your husband stood, like nothing had happened and everything was okay. He was still dressed in his suit but looked like he was rummaging through his mind conflicted and pained.

“Tommy?”

“Yes, my love.” You couldn’t stop yourself from running to him and jumping in his arms, hugging him. He smelt like he had been drinking combined with a hint of grass on his clothes. Your arms being wrapped around him once again felt surreal, and warm. You felt complete and couldn’t stop the water brimming at your eyelids, it had been weeks since you touched him, or seen him and your whole body couldn’t find the will to let go of him, not again.

He patted your back soothingly as he watched Charlie and Milly over your shoulder, they had looked confused as to why you would be crying but happy. He felt terrible watching their innocent eyes, and knowing what he knows now about your inevitable death that was soon to come, and it scared him of the thought he’d be the only parent they had, once again.

“It’s okay, it’s alright. I’m here now darling, I’m not going anywhere ever again, eh?” You nodded into the crook of his dampened neck; your tears had soaked. Tommy was glad they were joyful tears, but he knew that his news would change everything momentarily.

“Charlie, Milly, can you go upstairs I need to talk to your mum privately. I’ll be up in a moment, alright?” You sunk down from his grip and wiped away your tears, looking up at him with those loving, endearing eyes that always managed to brighten his day.

He guided you to the table, taking a seat next to you and folding his hands. When you looked at him he looked, lost like you’d never seen him before but you waited patiently to talk. His hand grazed across to the wooden table before it rest on top of yours, intertwining his fingers.

“My darling, you’re sick, very sick.” You looked at him confused, not catching onto what he meant.

“Ruby visited me today, I think Pol sent her. I left to kill myself and she stopped me, she stopped me and made realize Alfred’s intentions. I’m unsure of if you’ve been reading the paper but there is a photo of him standing with Mosley. I found him and he admitted to switching our results.” Realization sat in, and you leaned back against the chair in defeat. It explain why you’ve not been feeling well, why you’ve been hearing things, seeing things that had no explanation. A part of you had convinced yourself it was because you were adjusting the the thought of Thomas being dead.

“I- But how did-“ He tightened his grip on your hand, pursing his lips together as he had felt he had failed in being the man he was meant to be for you. If he had just not taken the easy way out and disappearing, if he had paid closer attention to the small details before Ruby had gotten sick this could have been avoided.

Thomas felt as if he was breaking at the seams. How did he not see it, how did he miss all the signs?

His heart was breaking inside as he watched you sitting across the table, head buried in your hands while you cried a river. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so weak, and broken.

“Oh god the kids, they-they’ve seen me like this, they’ve been seeing me like this. I don’t want them to anymore. I -I can’t bear the thought of them finding me-“ You couldn’t find the ability to complete that sentence.

Milly and Charlie meant the world to you, and it was hard enough losing Ruby and Thomas, well Thomas had lost everyone and here you sat being added to the list.

“Darling, you know as well as I do there is no cure for a gypsy curse.” It had taken you quite a while to understand Thomas’s upbringing, but you had always put in the time and effort to ask questions, and take interest. Throughout the years being married to him, you didn’t have a doubt in your mind about there being no cure if Thomas said there wasn’t. You never questioned him after Ruby.

Tommy’s pov

Tonight was an awful night, and I had never felt more weak than I did now. I watched her as she lay in bed, her skin was pale, lips cracked. She was shivering, and she had lost the ability to remember things. I had asked her just the other day if she knew where she was, she didn’t. Somehow, someway she managed to remember the childrens names, but not that she was Milly’s mum, or that Charlie considered her as a mum. Do you know what that does to a man?

Watching your wife slowly wilt away and lose her sanity. Not being able to do anything about it. It’s gut wrenching and it was a pain I had never felt before. I often found when she needed something I would escort myself out of the room, check on the children, and find a place to shed my tears where no one could see, I wanted to be strong for her, for them.

Y/N, has sacrificed her entire life in watching over them, making sure they were fed, clothed, bathed, and taught the simplicities of life. Yet she still always found the time and the effort for our marriage. She worked wonders, and is very bright, brighter than the moon on a clear, quiet night. The amount of weight she had lost from not eating. My wife looked unrecognizable but still beautiful as always.

The delusions had gotten worse, she began to hallucinate at dinner, and the children saw it.

“Who are you people, where am I?” I watched as fear settled within her wide eyes.

“Y/N darling-“ She stood up from the table frantically, searching for a familiar face, and looking at the people she didn’t recognize. She took the glass of water from the table and threw it at the painted wall, shattering it into a million little pieces, making the kids jump in their seats.

I pushed the chair back rushing over to her before she hurt herself or someone else in this room.

That’s when she turned slowly, almost with what seemed like a dead gaze before her arm slowly extended until it pointed toward the empty hallway. I followed her gaze, freezing in my tracks not wanting to frighten her. There was nothing there.

“He’s here.” I looked back to her with calm eyes, hands out so she knew I wouldn’t do anything to her.

“Honey, there’s nothing there.” She shook her at a vigorous rate, disagreeing with me and she began to back into the wall as I approached her with ease.

“Daddy what’s wrong with mummy?” What was I supposed to say to them? That their mother’s delusional, they had already known she was falling of illness. I glanced over to them quickly while my hands rested on Y/N’s flailing wrists.

“Charlie, Milly go to your rooms.” They hadn’t moved, and Milly began to cry.

She was too young to understand at her ripe age of two years old. I looked at Charlie with expectant eyes. I depended on him and I didn’t mean to put all the weight on his shoulders to look after Milly but what choice did I have when I had to take care of their mother, my wife. A man can only handle so much at one time.

“Charlie! Go with Milly, now!” Charlie jolted up out of his seat, grabbing Milly in his arms before running up the stairs with her. Once I heard the door close my attention averted back to Y/N. I watched as she was struggling for air and still screaming at the top of her lungs, her body shaking. I gripped her wrists as I felt that being calm maybe was not the best decision to get across to her that no monster, no ememy, nothing was in the room. Just me, her husband. It killed me withing knowing that this was something I had no control over, I couldn’t offer her protection from her own mind.

“Y/N! Look at me!” She stayed frantic and I began to shake her gently.

“Hey! It’s alright! It’s alright! Nothing’ there! Look, please my love!” She shook her head vigorously for a moment more before she opened her eyes once I rested my hands on her warm cheeks. Hesitantly, she peered her frightened eyes open, looking up at me for reassurance that it was safe. I nodded to her, and she must have still had an ounce of trust in me as she cautiously poked her head around my shoulder.

She released a held in breath, and began to cry one more as her body collapsed against my chest.

“I’m tired Tommy. I’m tired, I’m-I’m scared.” She hiccupped, and I began to brush my fingers through her hair as I held the back of her head.

“I just want everything to end, to go away. I can’t do this anymore.” Her back was spasming, and her first was clutched into my shirt, holding on for dear. She was ready to let go, she had given up but the problem was, this curse wasn’t that easy to put to an end. It would take you when it was ready, it didn’t care how broken down she was, this curse was about pain, suffering, breaking down a person to their lowest level. I knew at that moment the end was beginning and it was far nearer than I was ready for.

“I know darling. I know.” I couldn’t tell her to keep fighting, what point would that contain? There was no cure for this curse, and I wish I could find one, because until then I must watch my wife die slowly and cruelly.

I held her in my arms as she shivered and sweated at the same time. “Y/N, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” You didn’t nod or anything showing a response to him. The delusions that began a few weeks ago made you question whether Thomas was even your husband, if you even knew who this man holding you was at times. Fear fulfilled you but you found it best not to move and lay there limp as your body was in indescribable pain.

2 Weeks Later

It was a Wednesday when she had passed in my arms.

A small shimmer of sunlight had peaked between the curtains from the morning sky, settling on her still beautiful face. I combed a strand of hair behind her hair, admiring her perfect face before I had realized.

“Y/N?” She didn’t speak in return, and out of disparity I pulled her body in between my arms, embracing her now lifeless body, unable to hold back tears. They came flooding out, running down my cheeks, soaking the thin shirt she had been wearing, I had never felt more vulnerable and lost in my entire being. This was a loss I wasn’t prepared for. Nobody is truly prepared for death, but I wept. I wept and for once I prayed, I prayed that our children did not hear me.

I wasn’t ready to confront them, how was I supposed to tell Milly her mom was gone, how was I supposed to tell Charlie that now his second mother, was dead. My heart went out to our children, they were well behaved, innocent, and just so young and oblivious to the troubles of being an adult. Bless their heart. They were great kids, but I owe it all to you, my dear Y/N.

I telephoned Ada, settling my breath and trying to regain composure. She had answered right away.

“Thomas.” I sniffled in response, brushing away the snot that coated my skin with my sleeve.

“Ada, she’s gone.” The line was silent, assuming she was trying to think of something to make me feel better or make this process easier. I looked back at my wife once more and tried to tell myself, she was sleeping peacefully, it’s an odd feeling that’s indescribable when faced with your dead spouse, just completely still. It had felt like her soul and her being had already left the room, already making the house feel strange to me.

“I’ll be right over. Tommy, I’m so sorry.” I nodded to myself, once again being lost for words and hung up the phone. Should I lay here with her until Ada gets here? Should I go inform Charlie and Milly now? But if I do that, would they try to break into the room? Would they start crying and screaming to see you? Should they see you? My mind was roaming every which way, how do I know what do? You were always the smart one in our marriage.

The children didn’t understand, and I was grateful that Polly tended to Milly and Charlie while I arranged the funeral exactly how Y/N had wanted it.

The venue was closed casket, she did not want a gypsy funeral and she didn’t want the children to see her in that way. It was a close knit group of friends and family per her request in the backyard of the fortress we had built together.

I had the children at my side, dressed in black, and I had Ada braid Milly’s hair as she complained endlessly about it. That was when I saw my dear friend Alfie

“Thomas she was a wonderful woman, she cared for you and understood you inside and out, in a way I don’t think anyone ever has. Sometimes life has chosen to take people from us, and we can never understand why, eh? I nodded, still holding Charlie and Milly’s hands.

“Just know she’s in a better place mate? Alright?” I nodded in response and escorted the children toward the casket. I couldn’t help but feel my breath hitch in my throat, knowing she was in there, a part of me wanted to look but I wouldn’t as I wanted to respect her wishes.

The funeral began, everyone gathering in a small circle. Alfie spoke nothing but kind words and cracked a few jokes here and there to lighten the moods of not only the adults but the kids. It couldn’t stop the feeling of loss everyone had felt. As each person spoke, I realized it was now my turn. I gave Charlie and Milly a hug before I had spoke.

“Where can I even begin to honor this amazing woman. She gave me life, love, laughs, all the things I didn’t think were possible after I came home from the war. She struck something within me as she did to all of us. Her parenting skills and the patience she carried were beyond belief, and beyond anything I could be capable of. She made me learn that life isn’t about losing or winning, it’s not about money or business deals. It’s about family, being there for each other through a difficult time and I want to thank every one of you who came and-“

“Daddy can I say something?” Charlie spoke up interrupting me and my thoughts. I cued him to go ahead.

“Y/N might not have been my mom, but I loved her, and I hate that she’s gone. Life’s not fair, and I wonder why I can’t ever have a mom, but Y/N taught me that life works in mysterious ways and it’s okay to be sad sometimes, it’s what you do with that sadness that matters.” I felt my tears brimming at the rim but clenched my jaw, holding back my emotions for everyone here. I bent down and hugged Charlie telling him how well he did. Milly was in tears and I picked her up into my arms, cradling her before I excused myself into the house with them as I felt we needed a moment alone to be a family.

Later that night…

Once I tucked the children into bed and everyone had left, I felt lost. The person I shared my life with wasn’t home anymore and would never be again.

I closed the bedroom door and locked it. I can’t understand or find the meaning behind Y/N’s life coming to an end so soon. I weakly, opened the bottle of wine that sat atop the dresser while my mind was beginning to go frantic. I didn’t know the kids schedules like you, I didn't know what they liked to eat and what not or even if they were allergic to anything. What if I hospitalize them, or they get hurt on my watch in the way that Y/N and Ruby both did. What if I can’t protect them? How am I supposed to raise Charlie and Milly on my own when I don’t even know these little things about them because of business.

Cracking open the bottle I spilled the sweet alcohol down my throat, it’s taste quenching my nerves but it wasn’t enough. I needed more, as if it could replace the void in my heart.

I found myself rummaging through the drawers, tears brimming at the sight of her clothes lying next to mine but I stopped when I noticed a piece of paper, hanging out of one of her pockets.

“My dear Thomas,

Don’t be sad, we knew the day would come sooner or later. It may feel like there is no reason to move forward but there is. Look after Charlie and Milly, they need their father, and they love you very much. Remind them every day that I am with them in their hearts, as I am with you. I wouldn’t trade our story for the world because you, Thomas Shelby, complete me. You’ve grown so much, and improved, you put your family first over business though it took quite some time, but you made that change for us. Don’t lose sight of who we are, who you are and what we’ve built. I know you’re scared but I believe in you Tommy, as I always have since day one. Before everything went wrong and I lost my mind I wrote down everything you could possibly be unsure about of the kids schedules, their meal times, doctors. Etc. You’ve got this my love, I promise you, you guys are going to be okay and I will still be around even if you don’t see me.

Love Dearly,

Y/N”

I hung my head in disbelief, I don't know where I'd be or where to begin without Y/N. She seems to always think of everything, and every possible situation. I love her dearly, and I could never imagine re marrying or being with another woman after her.

#thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #ranaewrites

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haveihitanerve · 3 months ago

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Cardigan

my contribution for Batman Day

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Stranded on a planet, a million miles from earth, with a broken ship and a Lantern who flew off three hours and twenty seven minutes ago, and all Bruce can think is “It wasn't supposed to end like this.” He’s supposed to be Batman right now. He’s supposed to be fixing the ship, maybe catch Hal on his way back. Instead, he’s Bruce, just Bruce, sitting on the rocky outcrop of what appears to be a cliff, legs propped up, arms folded over them, watching the seven suns set. The wrench is laying back by the ship.

He isn't even sure, entirely, how he ended up so far away, sitting here. But he can’t bring himself to stand up, to walk away. To even look away, at this point. “You would’ve loved it.” He murmurs, quietly, to himself. He knows he doesn't have long, the oxygen levels here are lower than on Earth. And at this point, Hal won’t make it back in time. Maybe, if he had kept his mask on, it might be different. Bruce doesn't mind. He doesn't care.

His eyes drift over the four separate suns, sighing contently. The planet is some sort of red giant, dusty and purple and red and beautiful, really, is all Bruce can come back to. And, how much his children would have loved to see it.

The purple rocks stain his hands, and he can’t help but think of Stephanie, how she once stained his hands purple too, with glitter though, not rock.

He knows that it’ll be a shock for Hal to find Bruce Wayne here, instead of Batman. And he knows everyone would expect him to be thinking of his parents. As his last thoughts. But, they're faded. In the back of his mind.

Bruce can’t look back right now, for some reason, when for his whole life it was all he did. Batman, the Wayne Foundation, all of it was for the past. For what could have been if his parents had lived. But now? Now all Bruce can think of is Dick.

All he can think of is how his oldest son is going to have to decide if he’s going to be Batman, or if he’s going to reveal Bruce’s identity. If he’ll reveal his connection to him. All he can think of is how he and Jason never really recovered, not really. That he never managed to tell his son he misses him. That he loves him. He told him, of course. But he regrets all the missed opportunities he would have in the future. He misses the fact that Jason has, so far, never believed him. And now probably never will. All he can think of is how he never told Tim enough times how proud he is. How amazing Timmy is. How grateful he is that his little boy forced his way into his life. How he’s left the company to him. Because Tim was always better at all that than Bruce. Than anyone else. All he can think is how Barbara will never know she’s the reason he’s managed to hold on as long as he has. She was there, for everything. Through Dick leaving, through Jason, through Tim. Through all of it, she was the one in his ear, reprimanding him for getting too violent, reminding him to eat, scolding him for not using proper manners. All he can think is how he won’t be there for Cass’s dance recital next week. How he won’t get to hear her grow more comfortable with her own voice over her body. All he can think about is Damian, his little boy. How Dick and Jason and Tim and Barbara, will have to step up and raise his son. How he’ll never get to see his son grow up.

All Bruce can think about, as he watches the suns dip beneath the horizon, is how much joy his children brought to his life. And how he’s now broken his promise.

“Come back home.” Dick whispered. “Come back home.” Barbara whispered. “Come back home.” Jason whispered. “Come back home.” Tim whispered. “Come back home.” Cass whispered. “Come back home.” Steph whispered. “Come back home.” Damian whispered.

“I will.” He promised, every time. Without fail. A promise, an oath. His solemn vow to them. To each of his partners. Not sidekicks. Partners. His equals in every way. The ones who had shown his joy and wonder and had given him laughter and life. They had drawn stars around his scars, had brightened his world.

No, as Bruce stares out across the darkening planet, he does not reflect on the past, on what was, on what could have been with his parents. He thinks of the suns that brightened his world, and what a shame, what an absolute shame it is, that they won’t have him orbiting them anymore. He regrets that much, at least. The repetition of the past. No more willing, but he’s leaving them nonetheless.

“It wasn't supposed to end like this.” The words echo around the deserted, dark planet. A light breeze ruffles against the mans dark gray cardigan. A green light comes a few hours later, illuminating the world like a flashlight. Its green, not red or gold or black or purple. And it is far too late.

....

okay that got wayyyyy dark wayyyy fast- literally imma share a bit of my thoughts with you- this was the reminder i wrote for myself for this-

Batman Day. Write him. just him. For the love of God only write about him. No focus on anyone else. As hard as it is because he’s defined by his family but none of them! Only him. No parents, no kids. Maybe parents. Origins. Write his origins.

... like... clearly I failed. very clearly. But oh well my hands and my brain vs me are two different things so... I hope you enjoyed at least! :)

#batman day #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #idk where i went with this #as the title shows #i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift while writing #listen to the song while reading maybe itll help distract you from the odd structuring #anyway just hope you enjoyed

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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years ago

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Expecting -P.G

Also known as Gender Reveal (4)!

Summary: You are extending your family

"I would love to give you another kid and give Lena a baby sibling" He smiled

"Are you up for practicing now?" You laugh

"Gotta finish drying these dishes first"

"None of that" Pablo shook his head "That's already done, we gotta give our babygirl the sibling she wants and the boy I'm hoping for"

You couldn't help but remember once more that night of two months ago where Pablo and you decided to try to have another baby. Doing it more than usual, Pablo persuading both of you and his parents to take care of Helena some nights and both of you trying to make zero sound if she was asleep in her room, but you couldn't help it, you and Pablo were also excited to become parents once more.

Your leg was bouncing as you were waiting with him on your bathroom, the test result. You had already done three within the time and all of them had the same result.

"It's time" Pablo said as the timer clicked "You want to?" You nodded standing up and grabbing the stick.

Sighing, you looked at him sadly. "Not pregnant" appeared on the digital screen

He sighed too and grabbed it from you "It's okay" He said "We can keep trying, we are in no rush"

"I want my baby" You said whinning lightly

Ever since he told you that, you couldn't help but think of a baby Pablo, you wanted your babyboy and knowing the fact that Pablo had his little princess but also wanted that boy of his, so badly, so that he could play war with and have "Dad-son" talks about anything made your desire of having him increase

"And you will have it, amor" He kissed your lips sweetly "We had to try several months for Helena, she was hard to get" You smiled softly

"I know" You sighed melting into his arms "I just-" You cut yourself looking straight into his eyes "I don't know why I'm being so pushy about this"

"Talk to me, amor" You sighed shaking your head

"I don't really know, Pabs. I just- I get the feeling we did it, I start craving weird stuffs randomly, I cry about anything these past days and I thought we had it, for that thing" You look at the test in his hands "to say I'm not pregnant and it kinda brings me down. Like... I made myself believe I am four times but I'm not" You laughed shaking your head "I don't know, Pabs. I can't explain it"

"I want it too, amor. I wanna see you with our baby in your beautiful tummy once again, I wanna be able to sing and talk to it, I want Helena to do it too, I want her to see the wonders her mom can do" You smile softly as he kissed your nose "I want to massage your swollen ankles and try to keep up with those mood swings" You laugh this time for real as he leans in to kiss your cheek "It will eventually come, mi amor. We just gotta wait and keep trying" He pulls a stray of your hair behind your ear "Remember what the Doctora said to us when we wanted Helena?"

"Don't stress, take it slow and it'll come" You whisper

"Don't stress, take it slow and it'll come" He nodded "Let's just follow her steps once more, yeah?" You nod feeling better

"You're right" You say moving to grab his chin and plant a kiss on his lips

"¡Mami! ¡Papi! Look what I just did!" Helena's voice sounded around the house as you smiled at each other, Pablo leaned in once more and opened the door for you to step out "¡Mami! ¡Papi!"

"Coming, ladybug!"

Three months have passed from that and you did were trying but taking it slow, you eventually realized that Pablo was right and baby two will come whenever it had to, you stopped, somehow, preassuring yourself into get pregnant at once and just enjoyed the alone time with your husband like you have done your whole time together and your time as a family too.

"¿Amor?" Pablo asked you as you did your after shower routine, you hum letting him know to keep on talking "Are your breast feeling sore?" His question had you stopping your movements

"No, why?"

"They definitely look bigger than before"

"They grew when I gave birth to Helena, amor"

"Well I know that, but they are a bit bigger than before" You touched your breasts and shaked your head

"I'm not feeling anything, Pabs" You smiled "I think you just want to touch them, isn't it?" He laughed shaking his head

"As much as I love to, I'm being serious, nena" You shook your head

"Let's go to sleep, casanova"

It had been two weeks after that little chat when Pablo looked at you confused as you cutted a pickle in half, picked a slice of jam and honey to put it in the pickle

"What?" You asked with your mouth full, he shook his head "I was craving some"

"And all together?" You nod

"Mom, can I have a bit?"

"You don't like pickles"

"I meant a bit of honey, mami" You chuckled

"¡Oh!" You turned to grab some bread and suddenly stopped

"Nena, you're okay?" Pablo's worried voice came to you and soon he was next to you "Are you okay?" He replied as you closed your eyes feeling everything around you spin

"Yeah, I just- everything's spinning"

"Sit down, amor" He said making you sit

"Momma, ¿Estas bien?" You nod still eyes closed

"I'm good, mi vida. I'm just a bit dizzy" You smiled at her

You looked at Pablo once more, who was looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed, you sighed knowing what it mean, we'll talk it later.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as soon as he got inside your shared bedroom after putting Helena to sleep

"Everything's fine, mi amor" You said looking up from your book

"No, not everything's fine. I see you, mi vida. Something's wrong with you" He said "You have body changes, you look more radiant, you have been sleeping more and have weird cravings... Don't you think-?" You shook your head getting what he meant

"No, amor. I'm not"

"Are you sure?" You nod slowly "Do a test" He asked

"Pabs-" He cut you off

"For me, please" He pleaded as you sighed getting up from the bed and going to the bathroom.

You pulled out a test and did your thing, after washing your hands, you got out watching him sit in your bedside, you got behind him and hugged him.

"Three minutes, mi vida" You whispered, he nodded checking his phone

When the phone rang, you got up with Pablo hot on your heels.

"Don't feel bad if it's negative" Pablo said grabbing your hand

"I won't. I'm happy with how we are right now but yes, I'll be happy too if we are pregnant" He smiled and kissed your lips, both of you grabbed the stick and pulled it up

Pregnant.

You, excited, shook your head and felt tears up your eyes, Pablo laughed with his arms around you.

"Bebé" You said holding onto his arms around your waist "We did it! We are pregnant, mi niño" He kissed your cheek and picked you up twirling you both around

"When Helena finds out" He trailed off with a smile

"She's gonna be so happy" You completed feeling Pablo kiss your lips

And indeed, she was.

"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD!" She had repeated jumping around the whole place "I'm having a baby sibling!" She yelled excited, she had left her ice cream cup when Pablo told her the news.

Can you believe it? She had left her ice cream forgotten as she started making up plans on what was she gonna do with her sister or brother, both of you, smiled at each other and looked at her paying attention to every single one of her plans, often making a contribution in her little plans.

Helena was often touching your belly, kissing it and talking to it, following her dad's steps, sometimes you catched her falling asleep there, smiling widely and Pablo watched you two, his heart almost exploding from happiness.

Two months had gone by and you were three months in, your tummy still flat, Pablo had done a doctor's appointment two days after and you learned you were 4 weeks into it when you were trying on how to tell your family. That same week you were hosting, your monthly family get together and decided to still not say anything because you still had not a good way to inform the newest addition to your little family.

You had said to Helena to not say a thing yet, since you were going to make a surprise, she had loved the idea.

"¡Hola!" You said coming outside with Helena, to greet your in-laws, your family and your friends

"You are looking gorgeous, Y/N" Belén said smiling as you blushed

"Thank you, señorita. You are certainly not left behind"

"What about me?" Your mom joked as you hugged her tightly

"You already know it, señorita. I wanna look like you when I get older" You kissed your mom's cheek repeatedly

"I want a hug from my mamá Y/M/N too" Helena asked pulling her hands up to your mother

"Come here, mi cielito" Your mom, smiled pulling her up to her waist

"Y/N, Pablo's being annoying!" Alejandro, his childhood friend yelled as you turned around smiling

"So? You deal with it!" You said winning a round of laughter

You fell into a nice chat, Pablo's dad and yours were in charge to do the grill, you, your mom's (Belén and yours) and Aurora finished the salad and drinks. Helena and Aurora's babygirl, Amanda, were playing around inside the house.

"Let me help you with that, mi vida" Pablo said watching you with the drinks when the door rang

"I'll go then" He nodded pecking your lips

"¡Pedro González!" You exclaimed as he laughed

"Sorry for being late, Y/N Y/L/N Páez" He said laughing and hugging you "Had to drive Fer because his car broke down"

"Don't you worry, cariño. Everything's good, we're in the back"

You walked whilst chatting with him and eventually you both came out where the get together was, Pedro started greeting everyone and called for Helena.

"¡Lena!" He called her as she turned around quickly, her face lighted up. She was a sucker for her uncle/godfather Pepi and uncle/godfather Pepi was a sucker for her

"¡Tio Pepi, tio Pepi!" She ran to him as he lifted her up kissing her cheeks

"How are you?"

"I'm good, tio" She smiled "Guess what?" He nodded telling her to keep going "I'm gonna be a big sister!"

Everyone in the backyard stopped what they were doing and listened to Helena, when she realized she had messed up, she looked at Pablo and then to you, with her big brown eyes a bit sad

"I'm sorry" She said as you shook your head smiling

"Guess it's out now" You said

"We're expecting!" Pablo yelled smiling as everyone got crazy hugging you both

"Momma, I'm sorry" Helena said coming up to you as you lifted her up, enjoying it before you couldn't because of your belly

"It's okay, mi amor" You smiled brushing her wavy hair out of her face, Pablo looked at you both hugging you both, three, better said

"I think this was the greatest way to reveal it, ladybug" Helena smiled

"But still we gotta teach you how to keep secrets better" You said causing Helena to hide in your neck smiling and Pablo to laugh kissing your head

"Yes, we do"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 2 years ago

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Aged up!Lo'ak x Fem Omaticaya!reader

A pain in the ass

Summary: Lo'ak and Y/N were never fond of one another, always teasing and taunting. Usually Lo'ak could deal with her teasing, but one day he reaches his breaking point.

Warnings: It's smut y'all | Dominant Lo'ak/Bratty reader | The usual smut stuff | p in v | Not proof read

Her head tilted with amusement as she sat with her friend Emu. The two had perched up in the huge trees, basking in the cool shade as they observed the scene below them. Lo'ak, the son of the great Toruk Mokto was currently being lectured at by the great warrior. While Y/N had originally been up in the trees to relax, it would seem today she struck gold. She watched intently at the hunched shoulders of Lo'ak, his shameful demeanor being no surprise. This occurred a lot. Lo'ak getting in trouble, Jake lecturing him, and his big brother Neteyam attempting to defend him. Except this time seemed different. More intense. Like he'd really screwed up.

"Ooh he's done for this time." Emu joked as she swung her legs in the air. While Y/N didn't turn to her, she did give a chuckle in response. "Definitely. I wonder what that Sxkang did this time. Probably tried joining the fight again. Eywa he's so stupid." Y/N said as she stood from her spot on the tree top. It seemed as though the argument was coming to a closing, or perhaps an opening for her. She glanced over at Emu, her friends jubilant expression coming as no surprise. Emu was always a joy, no matter the circumstances. "C'mon, let's go. I'm not going to let a chance like this go to waste." Y/N urged as she made her way to the trunk of the tree. She began to climb down, her friend following closely behind. The rough bark wasn't anything unfamiliar. In fact, Y/N enjoyed the forests welcoming nature.

"How come you're always trying to bother him? And dont use that lame excuse like 'He's fun to annoy'. You know you enjoy being around him Y/N." Her friend spoke slyly, a grin painting her lips. Y/N could only roll her eyes in response, a look of distaste now on her face. "No, I don't. Now quit trying to put those crazy ideas in my head." She grumbled as her feet thudded against the dirt and grass. Her friend landed next to her, a knowing look on her face. "Okay Y/N, whatever you say. I'll see you later after your little playdate with Lo'ak." Before Y/N could get in a word, Emu departed, making her way in the opposite direction. Y/N could only sigh as she pondered on her friends words. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the thought of actually enjoying Lo'aks presence. Sure he wasn't horrible to be around, and his sense of humor wasn't bad, he was Lo'ak. The same boy who she teased years ago, curious as to how he managed to have four fingers instead of three.

She trudged through the shady forest, wandering flora and fauna catching her eyes along the way. Soon she passed a marker. The small notch that was etched into the tree beside her. An L, for Lo'ak. Months ago Y/N had found this little hide out of Lo'aks, managing to patronize him even further. Now that Y/N really thought about it, she was always around Lo'ak. Maybe Emu was right- No. Hell to the no. The thought itself made her face crumple into one of distaste, the desire to rid her mind of it growing strong.

"Ew, what the hells wrong with your face?" Her head snapped towards the voice, a scowl replacing the previous distaste. "I know you're not talking, not after you just got in trouble. Again." The man could only scoff at her words, eyes rolling as he leaned against a tree. "You're such a bitch. You really came all the way out here just to talk shit? Man get a life." Lo'ak snapped out, his brows furrowing at her attitude. Y/N did the same, her brows furrowing as her arms folded across her chest. "I'm the bitch? Yeah okay, but who gets yelled at on the daily? I'd say you're the biggest bitch of them all Lo'ak."

That did it. Lo'ak pushed his body off of the tree, making his way towards Y/N. He stared down at her, his eyes lingering on hers with his intentions unclear. While the sudden closeness should've intimidated her, Y/N had grown used to it over the years. With the constant bickering between the two, she wasn't surprised by his aggression. "What? Gonna talk to me like your dad talks to you? Or you gonna beat me up huh? I wish you would pussy." She snorted, her arms unfolding as she held them up in defense. "I'm so sick of you and your big mouth." He grunted as he spun her around and grasped at her wrists. The male pushed her up against the nearest tree, pressing her face into the bark as he neared her ear. "Alright ma, you wanna keep fucking with me? Fine." He nipped at the tip of her pointed ear. "We can keep fucking.." He aired out as his free hand grasped at the side of her pretty waist.

Eywa, she could hardly contain herself as he rubbed against her ass, roughly pressing himself against her. His cock felt hard against her, the feeling being completely new to her. She groaned out, her hands digging into the flesh of Lo'aks wrist. His grasp on her was unyielding as the two made out sloppily. He was rough, assertive, and so damn hot. His little sighs and grunts had her shaking her ass for more, the pressure of his cock becoming a nuisance. She was growing sick of the same motions, and with her clit throbbing beneath her untouched folds, she was growing irate. "Fuck..you really are a pussy huh? Too scared to actually fuck me.." Lo'ak only laughed in response, amused by her display. "Can't take it any longer Mama? I knew you'd break first. Want my dick huh?" He pulled gently at her loincloth, not quite removing it. He enjoyed leading her on, teasing her as she had done to him before.

"I don't think you've earned it yet..maybe if you beg for it I'll give in." Was he stupid? Had he fallen during his hunt? Who did he think she was? Y/N whined at his ultimatum, her head shaking as best as it could against the tree. "Damn..Lo'ak you're such a punk." She breathed out as she began to squish her thighs together, the slight friction bringing slight satisfaction. But it wasn't enough, and wasn't what she wanted. "Trying to prove a point Lo'ak? Or just mad your ego is bigger than your dick?" That struck a nerve. Y/N suddenly found herself a moaning mess as the young hunters fingers pressed at her clit. He continued this motion until finally, Y/N broke. "Lo'ak please! Just give it to me..I can't take it any longer." He smirked, his fingers slipping from her loincloth only to rip it off instead. "That's all you had to say Ma.." He smirked as he aligned his cock with her pretty pussy. Slowly he slid it in, the squeeze of her gushy cunt sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. "Fuck ma..you're so warm. Mm you love this don't you?" He moaned out as he began his rough pace with her. Y/N mewled as she stood onto her tippy toes, the pleasure within her pussy growing stronger. "Ohh this slutty cunt is sucking me in so good..is this what you wanted ma? Me to fuck the attitude outta you huh? Fuck..m'feels fucking incredible.

His hand finally released her wrists, allowing her to grasp at the trees as support. All while his other hand came up to tangle into her hair, somehow finding its way to her queue. He tugged gently at it, testing the waters. Y/N only jolted in response, the combined feelings beginning to overstimulate her. "Lo'ak please..please.." She whimpered out, her eyes softening as she glanced back at him. Their eyes met, Lo'aks smug look turning into one of fascination. He wanted to see her reaction again, and this time with her entire face. He slipped his cock out of her, her slick connecting the two with a squish. "I love that face you make mama...make it again for me hmm?" Lo'ak turned her around, and lifted her legs, pulling them around his waist with eagerness. He stretched his cock back into her, earning a gasp from her as he began to fuck back into her. Lo'aks hand found its way back to her queue, giving the same gentle tug and earning another whine of desperation. "It's so sensitive. S'too much Lo..." He grunted, leaning into her neck to lick harsh bite marks. "Say it again. What you just called me.."

"Lo..!" She cried out as his thumb found her sensitive clit. He brushed over it roughly, causing her legs to spasm with pleasure. And suddenly she couldn't hold it in anymore. Her orgasm felt like being heaven itself, a fog washing over her as she rode out her high. All the while, Lo'ak chased his own high, groaning out with a clenched jaw and hurried breaths. The warm gush of his cum dripping down the lips of her cunt sent a whimper out of her. The two remained still, Lo'aks face buried in her neck while Y/Ns fingers threaded through his braids. "If I knew teasing you that much would make you fuck me..I would've done it a long time ago.."

"Shut up ma.."

#loak #loak smut #avatar smut #atwow #smut #enemiestolovers #loak x reader #reader

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anamoon63 · 8 months ago

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Hi guys, I am writing this in case anyone wonders why I have been kind of MIA lately. No, I haven't forgotten you, but I have had a difficult week, more than a difficult week, I have been through a real ordeal. Where or how it started it's a long story which I don't have the time or the energy to tell, so I'll just share a brief chronology of what happened during this past week.

Friday May 3 - I turned in my finished work and set out to do my sims posts, play and rest for the weekend since more work would be coming my way on Monday.

Saturday May 4 - My husband came down with the flu, I spent most of the day with him in the emergency room.

Sunday May 5 - I spent it taking care of my husband, who fortunately no longer had a fever. I barely slept two hours at night giving care and medication.

Monday 6 May - My birthday, we couldn't go out for dinner as usual, so we celebrated at home.

Tuesday, May 7 - My son comes down with the flu, too, another afternoon in the ER and sleepless night caring for him and bringing down his fever.

Wednesday, May 8 - My son starts to feel better, and begins to recover very quickly. I start working on the following translations, at the same time I take care of both my husband and my sick son, do food, laundry, order home medicines, and all kinds of small chores, including disinfecting things. It's like going back to 2020.

Thursday, May 9 - My husband no longer has a fever but does have a cough that won't go away and minor problems with his asthma.

Friday, May 10 - Mother's Day, my son was feeling fine, my husband still had a cough, and had a doctor's appointment at noon, when he returned, we celebrated at home just like on my birthday, I spent the rest of the day working, and juggling a thousand other things. In the evening my daughter started to feel sick, but still no fever.

Saturday, May 11 (yesterday) - My daughter woke up with a fever, another visit to the ER. She was prescribed flu medicine, painkillers and rest, and sent home.

And that's my odyssey so far. On top of it all, from Wednesday through Saturday we were in the middle of a heat wave with temperatures of 37ºC with real feel of up to 45ºC; at night we get a "cooler" temperature of 29ºC. So imagine a person with a fever of 38 ºC and with this heat, obviously it's not of much help.

Surprisingly, I haven't gotten sick so far, but I'm not claiming victory. I have been taking care of my family for a week, sleeping two or three hours a night, getting up at different times to check on them, or give them medicine. I don't have time for getting sick! Lol. Thankfully, everyone is better and last night for the first time in a week I was able to sleep straight through. Honestly, I don't need many hours of sleep, but I am routinely and usually I am in bed a 11 pm and up at 8 am every day, so all this did upset my sleep cycle a little bit.

Anyway, that is the reason why I wasn't here much, since the whole day I was too busy, and at night I was so tired all I wanted was to go to bed. I apologize if I've fallen behind on your updates, I'm not ignoring you in any way, I just didn't have the strength or the time, not even to play The Sims. If I did, it was just a little free play to distract myself.

Last week I told you that I was juggling a lot of things, well now I have even more things, lol, at times I feel really exhausted, and even a little cranky from lack of sleep, the first few days my feet and legs hurt so much from going back and forth, but I'm fine, healthy, and in good spirits. Today I believe, as never before, that the universe does not send you more than you can handle.

At this point my family is already in recovery, if I don't get sick too, it's likely by I'll be able to get back to my simming routine. Now, if I do get sick, I hope to recover as quickly as the others. Whatever happens, I'll be around. Know that, even if I don't comment, I read you, and I am with you, especially with those who are going through difficult times of any kind.

Ok, I said to myself this was going to be a short post, but I made a wall of text instead (for a change). My apologies if it's written in a sloppy or confusing way, I just wanted to write it quickly to let you know where I have been and what has been going on with me these days. I hope you are all well, please take care of yourselves, health is a treasure that can be lost at any moment, the flu is a nasty disease, we must never let our guard down and forget to take the necessary measures to prevent it.

Last, but not least, I want to thank all of you who have mentioned me, tagged me, sent me asks and/or stars to my inbox, commented and/or liked what few posts I could do these days, I appreciate it very much and I'll try to reply to you as soon as I can, though I've fallen so far behind that I don't know if I'll be able to find your mentions in my notifications. In any case, thank you very, very much to all of you for thinking about me in my absence. 💗 I'll see you soon, hopefully, with more sim adventures, stay tuned!

#personal stuff #text post #life update #non sims #delete later

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ceridescent · 1 year ago

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what started in beautiful rooms — r., thérèse

thérèse raquin x female!reader

summary: you never really knew what’s behind those twinkling, green eyes.

warning/s: pure angst & adultery.

word count: 1, 229

author’s note: been fermenting in my drafts since november of 2022 i think it’s finally time it sees the light of day. i hope you like gay angst. ♡

masterlist | navigation

“you are all i could think about.”

she cannot even bear to look you in the eye, and yet, in this decadent condition, you took courage professing the revelation clogging your throat so surreal you had denied speaking. terrified to the point of refusal to eat, alive at most with your lips clipped together, barricading the words only for her to hear.

dismissive her jaded eyes are, lingering in the vastness of the forest, indulging herself in the rejuvenating lush of greenery — she’d let her eyes get plucked by it, you suppose, with how wide-eyed she stares at anywhere but you.

“what am i supposed to do with that?” her impertinence tips you to the brink of falling apart, although not quite, because she is just as nervous as you are. clamping her lower lip with her pearly white teeth, and now darting her gaze haphazard. she turns at you, “what do you wish me to say, y/n?” just as lost as you are.

is she though?

lest you forget, she engineered all of this.

you crawl closer to her, just enough to pretend that her husband is not resting on top of her legs, dozed and unaware of your conversation.

you’ve only known thérèse for a while, and whilst you strain making sense of her hoaxes, you wish you had never gone into her aunt’s shop, enthusiastic and amicable to accept her dinner invitation with a shake of a hand.

a tattooed smile lingered on your face basking into both you and thérèse’s interests, unintentionally disregarding the mother and son dining with you in the background.

your eyelashes fluttering with a gaze so intense thérèse repeatedly stuttered with a blush on her pale face, admiration coating your orbs with your chin on top of your palm, tilting your head sideward as she talked about her wonderment at the glistening river near her aunt’s old abode from vermont; the lone thing she dearly missed.

unseen was thérèse’s eye roll when her husband held and squeezed her hand, gladly speaking on behalf of his wife — she wouldn’t miss anything else from vermont, because the whole family is together. you were more than a stranger now that you had sparked an interest with thérèse but nonetheless a stranger — unaware of the faux laughter coming from her, indulged only in the crinkled smiles of the couple.

that single, lovely dinner erected into visits, almost daily, thérèse knocking on the wood of your family’s abode during afternoons, when your parents have scattered be with their jobs, invited over for embroidery lessons.

“press it lightly with just enough pressure, that’s right. good! don’t be too hard on the needle,” you whispered close thérèse’s ear, guiding her fingers with your own into weaving the needle into the fabric.

you were crouched over the back of her frame whilst she sat on a padded stool, patiently waiting for your commands and evaluations. she was a diligent student who had a keen eye for details, yet at that moment she was sloppy.

eyebrows knitted, confused with thérèse’s sudden burst of swiftness in movement, you reflexively pressed your hands around hers, locking them in (picked from your usual habit of teaching your younger sister), getting a good look at her up close. you caught sweat sliding down her forehead, the red burning on her pale cheeks, and the quiver of her plump mouth.

“take a deep breath, thérèse-“

she did so, taking three breaths per second, alarming you further. “slower, thérèse. slow and steady for me,” you raspsed unintentionally, squeezing her tensed shoulders, the view of her apprehension catalyzing your body to warm without an appropriate reason you failed to explain.

“you want me to go slow on you?”

it wasn’t a true question, you realized after she tossed the embroidery hoop to the ground, rising from the chair abruptly that unexpectedly your lips were clamped in between her own, slightly nipped and slightly licked, pinning you to the sofa.

a muffled noise bubbled out of your swelling lips for the first time. it was ardently luscious that you wished she’d urge you to do it once more, grappling the nape of her neck, burrowing your fingers in ‘till you have nested yourself within her.

lost in the moment you became pliable ditto clay, your blouse hastily unbuttoned, kneaded were your breasts by thérèse’s svelte hands, along with whispered salacious fantasies in your ear, her wedding band glistening due to the gleam of the sun.

clandestine meetings brewed from that moment on. hidden in their quarters, basked in the rays of sunlight, the huge duvet that fit three people, thérèse’s warm hold.

“how do i satiate myself of you?” she would whisper in your ear, breathy as she could be, empty and sore from a hushed sin veiled away by her incessant ‘migraines’ when asked her conditions from her aunt.

you would chuckle, wrap your cramped arm around her tender frame, and give her forehead a kiss.

drifting your thoughts direct toward the days you have not encountered the twinkle in her eyes — the playful smirk on her pink lips — the laugh so angelic you had worshiped it.

“just-“ a leap of air alleviates from your lips, clawing out the whirling emotions permeating in your system.

you stare at her for eons you have imagined her a statue. what a divine being to admire without being hurt, without the desire to touch. a stiff sculpture that appears dainty it would invoke jealousy within you. a material lifeless, at ease at its tense. a material not to long for.

“y-you left me…”

unfathomable are the shake in your words, unaccepting of the feelings you have laced with it. “you do not- no…you refuse to care!”

“y/n!” thérèse’s half-scream bolts you from your senses, two drops of tears threatening to fall down in the law of gravity. you are stupefied by the sound of your name thrown from her lips — ginger, lipid, ashamed. thérèse used to lace it with vampishness, gentleness, and blitheness.

you only cared.

“y/n, please, let’s not- don’t do this, please.” her eyes watered, either of anxiety or spite you cannot determine. however, once you observed the trail she had left, of her gazing jade orbs — at your polished eyes and chapped lips, and soon the sleeping body of her husband.

“then please, thérèse,” you sob her name, pleading for her. “tell me we mean something! this is more than hiding us away…”

“you are all i can think about, thérèse. please say something.” you wish to reach her hand, but enough of the touching. nor the staring. this is the riskiest attainment you have taken — asking for permanence from a woman whose hands are bound by another’s, nonchalant of your wisdom cracking away.

thérèse observes her husband’s face for a long time, caressing his curls away from his face, ignoring your presence. a passerby would assume you are a maiden awaiting orders from her masters. a relationship between maiden and master cordial that she is treated as equal, sitting down against the warm grass, conversing over domestic activities or of scorching gossip.

“we’re leaving paris, y/n. we’re going back to vermont.”

thérèse remains a statue. however, this time, she has become a blur.

you weep in silence whilst she watches you, stiff in her shoulders, loose with her hands caressing her man.

#therese raquin x reader #therese raquin #wlw yearning #lesbian #elizabeth olsen

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spacecadet-ticklesinspace · 2 months ago

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Tickletober Day 26: Ticklish Kiss

Fandom: The Greatest Showman

Pairing: PT, Helen, and Caroline

Summary: As a Dad, PT gets to deploy his favorite tickle tactic on his girls.

"Are you sure you can handle everything?" Charity asked her husband. "I can always reschedule."

PT loaded her bag into the carriage. "You have nothing to worry about. We'll be just fine."

"I don't know."

"It's not every day your best friend has a baby honey." PT wrapped his arms around her. "She could really use you right now."

"You all need me too."

"We'll be fine for a day. I promise."

Charity smiled. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Phineas gave her a kiss. "Have a wonderful time."

"I love you."

"I love you too." PT then helped Chairty into the carriage and waved as it went off.

Phineas turned to head back into the house when he heard another set of wheels pull up.

When the older ringmaster turned back, he found Philip pulling up with one of the wagons. Two familiar heads popped up around him from the back of the wagon.

"Daddy!" Helen exclaimed.

Caroline waved. "Hi Dad!"

Phineas grinned and made his way over to the wagon as Philip pulled it to a stop. "Hello there! Did you two have a good time?"

Helen jumped onto Philip's back. "We got to see Anne practice on the trapeze!"

"She even let us practice with her," Caroline added.

PT made eye contact with Philip. "Did you now."

"We made a makeshift one that wasn't that far of the ground," Philip assured him.

"Ah." Phineas relaxed. "Sounds like you had a good time then."

"Did Mommy leave already?" Helen asked.

"She did, but she'll be back later tonight." Phineas clapped his hands. "But, we can have some fun until she gets back."

Both girls cheered as they hopped off the wagon and rushed toward the house.

"Sure you'll be fine on your own?" Philip asked. "Anne and I can stay for a bit."

The older ringmaster crossed his arms. "Does no one think I can handle my own children?"

Philip chuckled. "Noho, wehe juhust have an idea of how exhausting two young children can behe ahall on your own."

"You only have the one."

"Do you not count?"

The older ringmaster playfully shoved his leg. "Have a good day son."

"You tohoo." Philip clicked his tongue and turned the cart back up the drive.

Phineas waved him off before heading up into the house.

In the time it took him to say goodbye to Philip, both girls had taken all the cushions off the couches and were currently practicing their tumbling across the parlor floor.

"Come join us Dad!" Caroline called out.

PT grinned and immediately rushed over.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of activity. PT's girls definitely took after their farther in the imagination department. They had the entire parlor completely transformed into forts with tons of hiding places and palaces with lofty halls.

Before any of the three realized it, lunch time had come and the house looked more like a war zone than anything else.

PT stood up. "Alright ladies, let's wash up for lunch."

"Aww." Helen slumped. "Do we have too?"

"Not unless you want to be extremely hungry later."

"But we're having so much fun," Caroline added.

PT pressed their foreheads together. "And we can have fun again after lunch."

"Okay."

Both girls stood and made their way to the downstairs wash basin to clean up while Phineas stepped to the kitchen to put together a meal for the three of them.

Just as he started to pull things out to prepare, a scream followed by a giant crash came from down the hall.

PT bolted toward the sound as fast as he could. When he reached the downstairs washroom, he found both girls pressed up against the walls with the remains of the wash basin shattered across the floor.

"Come here girls. Come here." Phineas scooped them both up at once. "Are you two okay?"

Caroline and Helen clung to their Dad's neck.

PT sat down on the floor with them in his lap. He held them close, rocking gently back and forth. "Take some deep breaths with me."

The older ringmaster took several deep calming breaths that helped calm the two frightened girls. After a bit, Caroline and Helen relaxed into the hold.

"There we go." Phineas kissed each of their foreheads. "Are either of you hurt?"

Caroline shook her head. "It missed us Dad."

"That's good. Did it scare you?"

"It was so loud," Helen added.

"I know. It scared me too." Phineas relaxed against the wall. "Tell me what happened."

"It was an accident Daddy. Caroline tried pushing the basin closer to the edge so I could reach it and she slipped so it fell off."

"We couldn't find the stool she uses so I thought I could help her," Caroline added.

"I see." PT rested his cheek on the top of Caroline's head. "That was sweet of you to try to help your sister, but there's a reason the wash basin isn't that close to the edge."

"I'm sorry Dad."

"Things like a wash basin can be replaced. I'm just thankful my two girls are okay."

Helen snuggled deeper into her Dad's chest.

"Are we in trouble?" Caroline asked.

"A little, but we can fix it by picking up the broken pieces of the wash basin."

"Okay."

"You sound disappointed."

"I was hoping there would be no trouble." The eldest daughter turned her face into her father's chest. "Getting in trouble makes me sad."

"Oh?" Phineas smirked. "I think I know a way to fix that sadness."

Helen lifted her head. "How Daddy?"

"By using a favorite technique of mine to get my girls to smile." Phineas leaned closer. "It goes like this."

A moment later and the older ringmaster was nuzzling a bunch of kisses into Caroline's face and neck.

His eldest daughter broke into a bout of adorable giggles as she shoved her Dad's chest. "Noho! Nohot thehe Daddyhy kihiss!"

"Yes the Daddy kiss," Phineas growled out before turning to Helen. "My favorite way to tickle!"

The youngest Barnum squealed and squirmed as her bubbly giggles poured out. "Dahaddyhy yohour fahace ticklehels!"

"Oho noho." PT purposefully dragged his chin along her neck, making her laughter grow even louder.

After a little longer, he jumped back over to nuzzle more kisses into Caroline's face and neck again.

"EEEEP!" The eldest daughter turtled into her shoulders, trying to escape the ticklish feeling.

PT chuckled at her snorts. "Yohou sound soho ahadorablehele Caroline."

While her Dad was distracted, Helen reached forward to tickle his ribs. "Get Daddyhy bahack!"

The older ringmaster broke out into laughter at the nimble little fingers, and it grew even more when Caroline joined her sister on the ticklish attack.

In response, PT pinched along their sides until he was able to jump back to his previous kiss attack.

Both girls broke into loud squeals and giggles as their Dad attacked them. Once their laughter started getting breathless, Phineas pulled back to just hold them for a little longer. "Ihi love yohou twoho."

"Wehe lohove yohou too Daddyhy," Helen giggled.

Caroline looked up at her Dad. "Is there stihill trohouble?"

"Juhust clean up sweetie." PT lifted her up. "Will you go get the dust pan and broom for me please?"

Caroline took off. "Okay."

Phineas then lifted up Helen to her feet. "And will you get a towel and bucket please?"

The youngest took off. "Yes Daddy."

Once the two were off, the older ringmaster pulled himself up. Yes, two young kids were rough on his own, but he loved his girls.

And he wouldn't change them for the world.

#pt barnum #caroline barnum #helen barnum #the greates showman #ticklefic #tickletober 2024

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months ago

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From Hell to Home to Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

Warning for some sexual situations. I don't go into detail because I suck at smut. But still, I shall slap a 18+ MINORS DNI on this chapter.

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl @vulpixsworld

Prologue . . . Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

December turned into January, before long it was March. Would it really be a a couple more months that Chrissy and Eddie would celebrate their one year anniversary? Chrissy gasped with realization, and she nearly dropped the cup cake she brought over for Eddie. She had been in the hospital when Nancy and Steve were supposed to celebrate their one year anniversary. Ooh, maybe they could celebrate together when the time came. That idea could wait until later. She pushed open the front door of the Munson trailer.

"You should really lock the door, Wayne," Chrissy said.

"Why would people bother? We don't have anything worth stealing," Wayne asked without looking up from his gardening magazine.

"Uncle Wayne, you and Eddie are worth stealing!" Chrissy exclaimed.

"You are sweeter than pumpkin pie, darling," Wayne said.

"How's your leg?" Chrissy asked.

A few weeks ago, Wayne had gotten into a car accident and broken his leg. The truck was in the shop, and Eddie was working his ass off to pay the bills. It had sucked because it had meant taking a break from school as Eddie was now working at Thatcher's Tire, the plant, as well as dealing drugs. Chrissy helped out whenever she could, and without Eddie looking. He insisted he was fine, but Chrissy would hide money inside the couch and also under Eddie's dresser. When she would help Wayne with the laundry, she would sneak bills from Surfer Boy into Eddie's pants.

"It's getting better every day," Wayne said. "Are those for Eddie? I thought Eddie didn't want to make a big deal for his birthday?"

"It's just a cupcake and a teddy bear, Uncle Wayne," Chrissy said innocently.

"I don't believe you, sweetheart," Wayne said, chuckling.

"You should never believe a witch, Uncle Wayne," Eddie's voice came from the hallway. "My love!"

Sleepily, Eddie bent down and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her neck. Chrissy laughed and wrapped her arms around him as best she could, nuzzling her cheek against his hair. Eddie pulled back and looked at her.

"How are you doing?" Chrissy asked.

"I feel absolutely good today. I finally had a day off today, and was able to sleep in," Eddie sighed. "What are you doing here on this wonderful morrow of March the Twelveth. . .an absolute boring day of no importance?"

"You know damn well it's your birthday, Eddie," Chrissy said. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Well, I wasn't going to say it," Eddie said, kissing her. "I get a cupcake and a teddy bear? A teddy bear wearing a cheerleading uniform and has their own little wooden guitar?! Holy shit, how did you do that?"

"I know a guy who widdles," Chrissy said.

"You know a guy who widdles?" Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes. I know a guy."

"You know a guy?"

"Eddie!"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, son," Wayne said.

"You're right. You're absolutely right! Thank you, I love - Goddamnit, it's Argyle! Argyle widdles!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his forehead.

"I love you. What do you want to do for your birthday?" Chrissy asked.

"You don't have anything planned?" Eddie asked.

"No, not until tonight," Chrissy said.

"Oh, good. Do you think we can just lay in bed and do nothing?" Eddie said. "I really feel like doing nothing with you."

"It's your day, babe," Chrissy said.

"No pants?"

"No pants."

"Eddie!" Wayne yelled.

"I said I was going to do nothing, Uncle Wayne! Chrissy is not nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Do you want me to read to you?" Chrissy asked.

"Ooh! Can you do the voices?" He pleaded.

"Yes, Eddie, I can do the voices," she laughed.

"You read, and I'll just keep pretending like you're not helping out financially," Eddie grinned.

"You know?" She asked. "You're not mad?"

"At you just trying to help? Never," Eddie said and booped her nose before dragging her into his room. "Now, what are we going to name this gal?"

He held the teddy bear fondly and Chrissy grinned.

"Well, I like Teddy Henderson," Chrissy said. "But it's your bear."

"I love it!" Eddie said. "And fair since Peggy has my last name."

With Teddy clutched firmly in his arms, Eddie crawled into his bed with Chrissy after they shrugged off their pants. He opened the cupcake box and watched as Chrissy dug under his bed to grab a book. The first one she had grabbed was the Hobbit. She knew him so well. Chrissy settled against the headrest and began to read. After finishing the cupcake, that he occasionally fed to Chrissy as well, Eddie laid down on her chest as she read as he clutched Teddy.

"I could live here forever," Eddie said.

"In this trailer?" Chrissy asked.

"God, no, on top of your heart," Eddie scoffed and smiled. "It seems like a nice place to live."

Chrissy smiled and pushed his bangs back to kiss his forehead. She was so keeping him. They both ended up drifting off and taking a nap until lunchtime. Chrissy insisted on getting up and making lunch for all three of them. Wayne was still in his cast, and it was Eddie's birthday. After lunch, they all gathered in the living room. Eddie was wedged between Chrissy and Wayne with no way to get free as Wayne opened up Eddie's baby book. He did this every year on Eddie's birthday. He pretended like he was embarrassed by it, but Chrissy knew he actually loved it. Wayne closed the book when he showed Chrissy the last picture.

"I'm proud of you, boy," Wayne said.

"You tell me that every year," Eddie muttered. "Why?"

"Because you always find the strength to get back up when you've fallen," Wayne said. "And you always do better."

"It's because of you, my friends, and Chrissy," Eddie said.

"Not all of it, son, don't sell yourself short," Wayne said.

"I don't think I'm going to graduate this year, Uncle Wayne," Eddie frowned.

"Well, that's due to unforeseen circumstances," Wayne said.

"And because of Principal Kissmyass," Eddie said.

"Kissenger," Chrissy and Wayne corrected.

"You're going to get there. You're more determined than any of us Munsons ever were," Wayne said. "And you've been working really hard. . .we see it, maybe not to them, but to us. Happy birthday, my boy. I love you."

Eddie sniffled as Wayne pressed a kiss into his hair. He buried his head into Wayne's chest and let him hold him. Chrissy watched them fondly, her heart swelling at the sight. After that, they all cuddled up against Wayne and watched MASH reruns. It was a good birthday for all of them, especially Wayne, since he couldn't get Eddie anything or do anything because of his leg. Chrissy knew that Eddie appreciated him being there more than anything that Wayne could have gotten him. Eventually, it was time for Chrissy's evening plans for Eddie.

"Are you sure you're going to be fine by yourself?" Eddie asked Wayne.

"I'll be fine, boy! Go on and celebrate with your sweetheart," Wayne replied.

"I mean, are you really sure?" Eddie asked.

"Granny Ecker will be coming by to check on me. You don't need to worry," Wayne said.

"But - "

The door front door opened, and Ronnie's grandmother came in from behind him. Sometimes, it was a blessing, and sometimes, it was a curse that Eddie now lived across from her in the trailer where Ronnie once lived. She now had easy access to him if she thought he needed a good wack with a spoon.

"You heard your uncle! You need a break from working too hard, and your uncle needs a break from you! Now, get!" Granny said.

"Okay! Fine! I'm going!" Eddie exclaimed as he was pushed out the door by his own girlfriend.

"Have a lovely time, Chrissy!" She called out.

"Thanks, Granny!"

"Why is she nicer to you?!" Eddie asked.

"Because she's cuter than you and not a pain in the ass," Granny said.

"I thought old people were supposed to be deaf," Eddie grumbled.

"I heard that!"

"She's not wrong, though," Eddie said as he held out his hand to help her into the van. "You are definitely cuter than me."

"I beg to differ," Chrissy giggled.

"Now, where are you taking me?" Eddie asked.

"The Hideout," she said.

"The Hideout?" He asked as he started the van. "Alright, I'm trusting you, Henderson."

Chrissy giggled as she yanked him by the hand, pulling him towards the bar. He kept looking doubtfully at her. She pulled him inside, outright laughing at the look on his face. His mouth hung open.

"You're going to catch flies," Chrissy said.

"This place looks a lot cleaner than when I left it," Eddie said. "Holy shit, it actually looks like she could serve customers in this place!"

"Yeah," Steve said as he popped up from behind the bar with a grin. "She made us work our asses off to clean up the place in exchange for letting us use it for our party."

"Stevie!" Eddie cackled delightfully.

Steve hopped over the bar, looking just as happy to see him.

"Eddie!" Steve yelled and pulled him into a hug. "Oh, fuck, I missed you! I haven't seen you since you started to work."

"I'm quitting tomorrow," Eddie sighed. "God, your hair smells just as good as I remember it."

Nancy came out from the storage room to join Chrissy in staring at their boyfriends.

"So when do you think they'll be leaving us for each other?" Nancy asked.

"If not tonight, then tomorrow," Chrissy giggled. "They'll definitely be making out by the end of the night."

"That would be so tragic," Nancy said sarcastically and giggled with Chrissy.

Steve and Eddie broke away from the hug to glare mockingly at their girlfriends.

"Yeah, no, we're definitely leaving you tonight," Steve said as he secured an arm around Eddie's waist.

"They just don't understand us, baby," Eddie said.

Nancy laughed and pulled Steve out of Eddie's arms, yanking him into her own.

"You're mine, asshole," she said and kissed him harshly.

Steve broke the kiss, laughing. He brushed his nose up against her.

"So jealous," he giggled and kissed her softly.

Chrissy grinned at them, glad they finally found their footing. It wasn't perfect, but they found their way back to each other, and they were continuously working on bettering their relationship. Steve was still on the basketball team, but he had quit the swim team, and he wasn't going to do baseball this year. He was currently looking for a part-time job. Nancy had managed to join the paper when Chrissy had been in her coma, and she had missed Steve buying Nancy a fedora. Nancy wouldn't stop bragging about it or about the fact that Steve was now growing out his chest hair.

"So, Nancy would definitely kick our asses if we stole her boyfriend," Eddie whispered. "Noted."

Chrissy giggled and slapped his chest. She pulled him further into the bar, leading him towards the back with the stage. Black, white, and red streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner was hung up behind the bar along with Eddie's mugshot that she had gotten from Hopper when he had arrested him a while back when he first started dealing. The charges had been dropped, though, when the evidence mysteriously disappeared. According to Eddie, he had smoked it with Hopper. It was strange to think he was now dealing to her uncle, but Eddie was also now dealing to his own uncle, so maybe it was fair. The others were gathered around the stage: Argyle, Robin, Jonathan, and Heather, who had brought Tina. Gareth was standing next to them as well. Meanwhile, Jeff and Frankie were on stage setting up with two others hidden in shadow.

"Is Corroded Coffin playing tonight?" Eddie frowned. "I haven't practiced with them in weeks."

"You won't be playing tonight," Chrissy said.

"Eddie, man, happy birthday!" Argyle exclaimed and wrapped him in a bear hug.

"Thanks, brochacho," Eddie grinned, and Argyle laughed. "Oh, and thank you so much for Teddy's little guitar. She loves it."

"Aw, so the bear has a name?" Argyle asked.

"Yes, she and Peggy are lesbians," Eddie said.

"They are?" Chrissy asked.

"Don't you think?" Eddie asked.

"They are," Chrissy agreed.

"Nice," Argyle said.

"Well, Teddy definitely needs to have a sleepover with Peggy one night and soon," Chrissy whispered in his ear.

"Definitely," Eddie giggled.

He hugged Jonathan, Robin, Heather, and even Tina just as tightly as he hugged Argyle. Tina grinned as Heather elbowed her.

"Told ya he ain't so bad," Heather grinned. "And even he shares your theories that we aren't alone in the universe."

"If there are a million different species living on this Earth, then why can't there be a trillion more species out there in the rest of the universe?" Eddie asked.

"I totally agree!" Tina exclaimed.

"They're going to be a while," Heather told Chrissy, and she laughed, agreeing with Heather.

After learning about the Upside Down, it only solidified Eddie's theories about aliens. Chrissy believed in aliens, too. It would be stupid not to after everything she went through, but nowhere near as fanatically as Eddie or Tina, apparently. Tina was a tall asian - more specifically, chinese - girl who had been looking to piss off her homophobic parents every chance she got. One of them was throwing parties, and the other was cutting off nearly all her hair and dying it pink. She started spewing things about aliens at the dinner table until it actually became a topic of interest for her, and she also loved the pink hair, so she kept it. Her parents had accepted her lifestyle as a lesbian but hadn't really accepted it. They were just too lazy to do anything about it besides make hurtful comments. It frustrated Tina to no end. Chrissy had gotten to know Tina over the last few weeks while Eddie had been working, and she had hung out with Heather. She had a feeling that Tina would be a welcome addition to their group. After a while, when the band finally finished setting up, the lights flickered on in the back, revealing. . .Dougie and Ronnie!

"Holy shit, Ronnie! Dougie?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Happy birthday, asshole! You didn't think I would miss this, did you?" Ronnie spoke into the microphone. "We have a special guest singing for us tonight. . .Chrissy Henderson. . .come on up!"

Eddie gasped louder than everyone as Chrissy stood and curtsied before hopping up onto the stage. She stood in front of the microphone and looked in Eddie's direction. He placed his hand over his chest, grinning delightfully. His dimples were showing, and his eyes were twinkling more madly than ever before.

"Happy birthday, baby, this is for you. . .my starman," Chrissy said softly.

Eddie pretended to faint and collapsed in Steve's arms. Steve rolled his eyes but held him up as Eddie clutched him tightly, practically sitting in his lap. Eddie gazed at her, his eyes full of love, and she wondered if this was how she looked when Eddie first played. She noted that Jonathan was snapping a picture of the moment, just as he had done that night. The rest of Corroded Coffin started to play, and when it was her time, Chrissy opened her mouth and began to sing.

" . . . Starman waiting in the sky. He'd like to come and meet us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds. There's a starman waiting in the sky. He's told us not to blow it 'cause he knows it's all worthwhile. . ."

As soon as she stopped, Eddie swooped her off the stage and picked her up, whirling her around. Still holding her, Eddie pulled back and smashed his lips to hers. Stars practically exploded in front of her eyes as they kissed, lights overhead, and the music still playing through both of them. . .practically pounding in their veins and in their hearts. Chrissy growled into the kiss, cupping the back of his head and yanking on his curls before wrapping her arms around him. Eddie enveloped his arms around her and pulled her as close as much as he could. God, she wanted to live inside of him. . .touch every part of him. Eddie was crying, tears running down his cheeks as well as her own, and she could taste him now. The lights grew brighter and brighter overhead. . .flickering now. The danced furiously overhead as Chrissy and Eddie kissed, growing and swelling. . .until finally. . .a light bulb exploded overhead. For a moment, it was like she could hear him in her head. Chrissy pulled back, looking at him in amazement. She had never felt that kind of connection with him before, and she wondered what it would be like if they. . .

"What the fuck was that?" Tina asked, staring at the bulb.

"The electricity is goddamn screwy in this place," Bev said. "Maybe we should stick to the stereo for now."

"That's a good idea," Nancy said.

While Tina and the others were distracted, Eddie wiped away the blood from under Chrissy's nose.

"Holy shit," Eddie said.

"I never felt like that before," Chrissy whispered.

"It's like I felt you in my head," Eddie whispered back.

"I wonder what it would be like if. . ." Chrissy trailed off.

"If what?" He asked softy.

". . .if we made love," she finished.

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" He asked.

"Eddie. . ." She said warningly.

"I trust you," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I know. . .it's just. . . I don't want to hurt you," Chrissy said.

"If anything hurts in a very bad way, I'll let you know," Eddie said.

"Alright, but later, we still have your party to attend," Chrissy grinned.

"Ugh, right, that," Eddie groaned.

Once, Corroded Coffin put away their instruments and cranked up the stereo. They joined the rest of them on the dance floor. Robin was happy to dance in Ronnie's arms while Heather did the same with Tina. They jumped apart when they realized that Bev was still there. She scoffed at them and waved her hand.

"Let me tell you something that my own dumbass husband never knew. Men have never been my thing," Bev coughed. "I only married my no good husband so my mama would stop her crying. She just didn't want me to be alone like she was when Daddy died. One thing I regret, though, is never telling her because I think she could have handled it. The point is, I don't give a shit, as long as you're all cleaning this up."

"But you look flattered and blushed when my dad tried to flirt with you," Eddie said.

"Kid. . .I've been around long enough that I know how to blow smoke up a man's ass," Bev said.

Ronnie laughed and pulled Robin back into her arms while Heather did the same with Tina. Eddie shook his head, smiling in amazement, and started dancing wildly with Chrissy. She couldn't help smiling herself. There really was more to Bev than meets the eye. Chrissy and Eddie ended up switching dancing partners halfway through. Eddie danced wildly with Steve while Chrissy danced with Nancy. They switched again after a couple of songs, and then it wasn't long before Eddie was dancing with Ronnie. Chrissy was now dancing with Robin, Nancy with Jonathan, and Argyle with Steve. Jeff and Gareth were dancing together. It looked like Gareth was enjoying it a little too much. It seemed as though he had a crush on the other boy. Frankie was dancing with Heather, while Tina watched him like a hawk in Dougie's arms. All in all, everyone was having fun.

"Oh, God, please tell me Wheeler didn't make that," Eddie gasped as he collapsed at the bar.

Steve and Nancy had stopped dancing early on to head into the back. They had come out a few moments later, carrying a chocolate cake.

"No, she did not," Nancy said. "And the cupcakes I made weren't that bad."

"Well, I wouldn't have called them cupcakes. They were more soup than anything else," Robin said.

"It's okay, you are so good at so many other things," Steve said. "And don't worry, Eddie, I made the cake."

"Thank God," Eddie said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Chrissy watched as everyone sang happy birthday to Eddie like a heavy metal song. He banged his head, laughing joyfully as he did so. He blew out the candles and pretended he was a dragon while he did it. Eddie and Chrissy were, of course, awarded the first two slices of cake. Ronnie sat down next to Eddie and stole a bite of his cake.

"Enjoying your birthday?" Ronnie asked.

"It's the best birthday I ever had. . .well, besides the one for my 9th birthday party and the clown my uncle had hired got arrested," Eddie grinned.

"Oh, shit! Yeah, I remember that," Ronnie laughed. "Okay, that was pretty great. The look on your uncle's face."

"I shouldn't laugh. He tried so hard," Eddie snickered.

"A clown got arrested at a 9 year old's birthday party?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"It's, uh, complicated," Eddie said with a laugh.

Chrissy smiled. It was clearly a fond memory that Ronnie and Eddie shared. She decided to leave it alone.

"You said no gifts, right? Only memories?" Ronnie asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Well, I think this counts as a memory," Ronnie said. "Granny found it a while back."

She pulled out a framed photo. It was Ronnie and Eddie when they were eight years old. It must have been shortly after they became friends. Ronnie was in her overalls, and she hadn't found the corduroy ball cap she now wore on her head. Eddie was in torn pants and a flannel shirt that was too big for him. His hair was long, almost like it was now. It was before his dad decided to shave it off. She remembered Eddie telling her that he had cried when he had done that. She preferred to wear his hair much like his mom used to wear hers. It made him look less like his dad. Little Ronnie and Eddie were sitting with their backs against a tree. Ronnie was showing him the Hobbit for the first time. Chrissy knew who took the picture. It had been Wayne. He had always loved Ronnie for being Eddie's first real friend and held a special place in his heart for her. Eddie pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. Chrissy looked on, a fond smile on her face.

"We shoo turn his face inoo a game car!" Tina exclaimed, her mouth full of cake.

"Babe, how many times have I asked you not to do that?" Heather asked. "Digusting. Also, no one knows what the hell you just said."

Tina rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and swallowed.

"We should turn this place into a gay bar," Tina said. "Give people a safe place. On the outside, it will still look. . .well, how it does. . .but on the inside, we turn this place around."

"Seeing as this is my bar, shouldn't I be the one deciding on what to do with it?" Bev asked.

"Uh, right, of course," Tina said with wide eyes.

"My piece of crap husband didn't know what to do with it, and so, he left it to me," Bev said. "Hell, I still don't know what to do with it. . .but if some good can be done with it, then I'm in, kid, as long as you have the money for it."

"Oh, I know some investors who will gladly partake," she grinned manically.

"This is the best birthday ever!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Well, we couldn't have gotten here without you, Munson," Tina said. "You and Chrissy. If Chrissy hadn't become friends with you, fell for you, then Heather wouldn't have brought me here tonight."

Chrissy smiled at the thought. Really, it had all started that night at the talent show when they met, and she wound up down the road to her new life. . .to her new family. It's funny where the road takes you, sometimes. She looked at Eddie and knew he was thinking the same thing. She welcomed his kiss and pressed hard against his lips. They pulled away, and Eddie leaned his forehead against hers.

"Let's get out of here," Chrissy whispered.

Eddie grinned and gently pulled her up, wrapping an arm around her before turning to the group.

"Alright, well, my lady love and I must depart. You'll be fine without us, right?" Eddie asked.

Nancy looked at them for a moment and raised a curious eyebrow.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

"Well, if you must know Nosy Nancy, Chrissy owes me some birthday spankings," Eddie said.

After he said that, Chrissy giggled and slapped his ass. Eddie yelped excitedly.

"That's one," she teased.

They quickly said their goodbyes, and they were almost out the door when Nancy approached them by herself.

"Okay, didn't we recently talk about this? Nance, if you want to join us, then you have to bring your boyfriend," Chrissy said.

"What? No! I mean, I know that. That's not what this is about," Nancy said, blushing. "Are you going to use you know what during sex?"

"Protection?" Eddie asked. "Of course, we are. Who do we look like to you? Ted and Karen? This isn't our first rodeo."

"Okay, they had one pregnancy scare. . ." Nancy trailed off and shook her head. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Nance, they're mine to use, and if I want to use them, then I should get to," Chrissy said.

"I just think you're being reckless with them. You might do something that you might not be able to take back," Nancy said. "Would you really be okay with that?"

"Nancy, do you trust me?" Chrissy asked.

"Of course, I do," Nancy replied.

"I know what I'm doing here. I've been practicing with El, and I've been getting stronger and more in control," Chrissy said.

Nancy sighed. She should know by now that it was pointless to argue with her, right?

"Alright, fine! But don't say that I didn't warn you," Nancy said and stormed off back to Steve.

Eddie and Chrissy walked out, hand in hand, both rather giddy with anticipation. Eddie drove them out to a clearing in the woods where he laid out a blanket for them in the grass. It was there that they freed themselves of their clothes. It felt different than the other times they had done this, and suddenly, Chrissy was nervous.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Eddie said. "I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to."

"I want to do it," Chrissy said. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Freak."

"Witch."

Chrissy pushed him down and climbed on top of him. She never felt so freeing than she did right then. . . naked under the stars with the gentle breeze caressing their skin in a very sensual way. The stars twinkled above them, and the moon shone with them. . .almost as if they were watching them. It only encouraged Chrissy further. She joined with him, feeling every part of him and reaching out with her mind, with her powers, to touch his. She did it, for once not caring about the consequences. . .She heard him in her mind. . .as clear as a bell. . .Eddie spoke to her without moving his lips.

"Chrissy!"

Chapter Twenty-Five

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