#the driving anxiety for me was real bad for so long and I’m finally done

[mouse-fantoms]

Finally passed my road test on the second try and I’m not saying the Sunset Curve shirt I was wearing has anything to do with it but 👀 it gave good vibes which is exactly what I needed

[idontplaytrack]

Amber Appleton x reader fic where they start a family? amber being scared before the baby comes but then ofc is the best and sweetest mom ever and reader falling even more in love with her because of it. thank you <3

Grow Old

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, mentions & descriptions of pregnancy and birth, anxiety, fluff

“I know it's kinda scary, but it's only temporary doubt

I've done a lot of stupid things

But promise that you're gonna stay long enough to grow old with me”

You and Amber were down to the final month before your baby girl was due. And honestly, since the third and final trimester began, Amber’s been really worried and anxious and just doubting herself a whole lot. It made your heart ache to witness how she talked and saw herself, when you were sure that she’d be the best mother ever. Not perfect, but you knew she’d do the best to give the baby the best. You would too, no doubt about it. You were so excited, but also, pretty nervous. Things started to seem so close and so real…this new chapter of your lives. One that you both had been waiting for for the last handful of years, following what seemed like endless failed attempts to conceive in the last five years, nearly six. Everything was ready for her arrival, friends and family were excited, but not as much as you and Amber were. But of course, being first-time parents, anxiety was often the emotion taking the lead of the control panel of your minds as of late.

You were at work when Amber sent you a text to let you know that she’d gone on her walk. You two had agreed that she could go anywhere and do anything as long as she felt up to it and stayed safe, and that you knew her whereabouts in case of emergencies— knock on wood. Since you were getting off work soon, her text was so that you wouldn’t be surprised to see the apartment empty when you got home. Amber couldn’t stand being home as much for the last week or so, always wanting to get out and go for walks in the neighbourhood. You got that,she had a lot of thoughts racing through her mind and those walks helped her clear her mind and calm her down. But she mainly only does that whenever you aren't home. When you were around, she would a hundred percent be spending all the time with you.

Gathering your stuff, you clocked out and went to your car, ready to go home to your wife. Before you started driving, you sent her a voice memo to let her know you were on your way home already. Luckily, the traffic wasn’t as bad as it usually was, so you got home earlier than anticipated and even got her favourite takeout for dinner— and dessert as a treat since she’d been feeling low. It never failed to bring a smile to her face, so you loved doing that. Once you got home, you set the bags down on the dining table and went to get changed before laying the table. Amber wasn’t home from her walk yet, but you knew she would be soon so you wanted everything to be ready once she was home. Now standing in the kitchen, you were making hot chocolate for drinks to go with the meal. While waiting for the water to boil, you rested your palms on the counter, rolling your head to try and relieve some of the ache and tension from your work day. As you set the two mugs down on the dining table, you heard a familiar jingle of keys coming from the other side of the front door. Amber was home.

“Hello, my loves.” You beamed, walking up to her to give her a kiss on the cheek then one on her bump as you gently caressed it.

She smiled back at you while you led her to the table, to sit down. “Wow, you had time to get my favourite and arrive home early?”

“It seems the universe knows I need to get home quickly and without the usual stress of horrendous rush hour traffic. Work was so busy today, so I’m glad to be home with my girls” You grinned, “Come on, let’s eat.” You sat down opposite from her and you both promptly dug into the food. “I met up with Ricky and Jordan today. Went for lunch and a drive…it was nice seeing them again after such a long time.”

“I’m glad you had a good time, Ams. Pity I couldn’t join you guys.”

“There’s always next time.” A tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips, “How was work?”

“Same old things, which you know aren't typically all that bad but I just had a report to turn in today so I’m just a little tired in that sense.” You explained, “She didn’t give you too much trouble today, did she?”

“Well— apart from making me need to pee what seems like a hundred times an hour, and kicking me in the ribs, she’s been a good girl. Cheeky, but good.” Amber giggles, “I”ve had it pretty easy, babe.” You reached over and put your hand on hers, giving it a squeeze as you flashed her a smile, Amber does the same back to you.

“Thank you. For getting my favourite for dinner.”

You gave her hand another squeeze,“Anytime.”

After dinner, you and Amber were snuggled on the couch enjoying dessert over some reality TV, then it was a movie that unintentionally made her emotional and cry. So you wanted to turn that off but she said she wanted to finish watching it.”You’re crying. You still wanna watch?” You squinted at her, concerned. She snuggled closer to you while nodding tearfully, “Yeah.”

“Alright, honey.” You rub her back, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Whatever you want.”

————

Seven days to go. The hospital bag was packed up two weeks ago and ready for the day. Amber was extremely tired, and understandably so. And quite frankly, she was achy all the time so that had her in a bad mood now. Nerves? They were definitely still there, but she couldn’t for pregnancy to be over and done with. Her feet hurt, so did her back and seemingly everywhere else in her body. She was getting so uncomfortable.

Technically, it could happen any time now. She could go into labour at any given moment.

“Hey.” You entered the bedroom and saw her lying down in bed but wide awake. It was past 10pm already. “I can’t sleep.” She sighs. “I know, I’m sorry.” You sat down with her. You helped her sit up, knowing that she’d want that. “I walked so much today.” A soft sigh falls from her lips as her hand rests on her bump.

“Soon, honey.” You cupped her cheek, stroking it tenderly with your thumb.

“I’m so tired.” Her voice shook, “I want her to come now.”

Well, she didn’t. The next two days were painfully long for her. She was the one going through it, but you were also going through it— that whole rollercoaster of emotions. Towards the end of dinner, Amber started to feel sick. Then, her back hurt, then contractions started. The first wave of pain hit and no matter what she did, it didn’t feel better like it would’ve with braxton hicks. All within the span of no more than fifteen minutes. You called her doctor and as expected, you were to stay home and time them until the pains were frequent and consistent. So until then, you had to make sure she was okay. Amber was advised to stay hydrated and take a nap in order to keep her energy levels up. She did just that without a fuss, quietly sipping on her tumbler of chilled water you sat right by her to massage her back in an attempt to relieve her back pain. After a few minutes you set her tumbler down for her and she leans onto you for comfort. Your hand found its way to hers, holding onto it after giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Just rest for now, honey.” You told her, “You wanna go lie down? I already put the absorbance sheet on the bed.”

“Okay.” She mumbles, nodding against your shoulder.

“Alright, honey, come on. I got you, easy does it.” You rubbed her back then wrapped your arm around her to help her up and walk into the bedroom so she could get some sleep while waiting for things to pick up their pace. You made sure you had your phone with you since you had to time her contractions for quite some time. Once you got her settled in bed, you sat down next to her so you could eye on her and everything. Making a mental note to check the hospital bag one last time, your gaze falls back onto her sleepy figure. She was sleeping on her left side, facing you and her eyes were closed. But you could tell she wasn’t asleep yet and uncomfortable. Amber ends up reaching for your hand, so you let her hold onto it while she slept.

Nearly two hours later, it was finally time to head to the hospital. They checked her in and got her settled in her room. They hooked her up to an IV drip for fluids and antibiotics after she changed into a gown then checked her progress. She panicked feeling it, squeezing your hand instantly. “Does it hurt?” The doctor quickly asked.

“That? No. Just didn’t know what to expect.”

Amber’s doctor— Doctor Elliott, nodded in understanding. She must know what Amber meant. She had kids of her own. “You’re at a three.” She declared, “Progressing nicely and everything looks perfect. Like I said, rest as much as you can and drink clear liquids if you’re thirsty. Ice chips are fine, if you’re hungry, or need anything…have any questions, let us know and we’ll be right here for you both. Checks will be every hour.” After Elliott left, AMber’s midwife and a couple nurses on shift came in to check on her and introduce themselves. It didn’t take long since they knew that Amber obviously needed some rest in anticipation for later. Very fortunately, things went forward smoothly. Amber got her rest, you took a 20-minute power nap before you were wide awake again watching her. With every check, she progressed further, but she also was in more pain because of it. Contractions got closer and closer, more and more intense, coursing through her body wave after wave. “Hold my hand, my love. Hold my hand.” You brushed your thumb over her knuckles, bringing her hand to your lips so you could give it a kiss, “Breathe through it, Amber. Just like we learnt. That’s it, that’s it.”

She takes in shaky breath and exhales slowly, her grip on your hand getting tighter by the second, until the contraction ended. This cycle repeated itself for what seemed like hundreds of times over the several hours of a truly agonising wait. “I’m sorry.” Amber swallowed thickly, “I’m so sorry for squeezing your hand so hard— oh, shit—”

She was going to throw up. Hastily, you grab the emesis bucket from the bedside table and held it under her chin just in time. You let go of her hand to hold her hair out of the way.

Cue the tears. And her waters breaking.

Once she puked, she was officially thrusted into the transition stage after nearly ten hours. The pain was now the worst of the worst, causing the tears to fall from her face in an unending manner. “You’re almost there, mama.” Dr. Elliot said, “Eight centimetres. You’re doing really well, Amber.”

Laid on her back, she stared up at the ceiling, tilting her head back trying not to cry even more than she already had. Amber opted for no meds, so she was definitely in a whole lot of pain. You couldn’t even imagine how bad it must’ve been. Yet she hasn’t even screamed once— she amazed you.

“Look at me, honey.” You said softly, “Amber, look at me.” You stood up, still holding onto her hand to meet her eyes.

“I can’t—” She hiccups, “I can’t do it, babe. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts, honey. I know. But you got this.” You brushed the sweaty hair out of her face, then planted a kiss on her forehead. “We’re so close, Amber.”

Within the next hour, it was time. Dr. Elliott returned with a team of people and everything was promptly set in motion. Amber’s legs were in stirrups for awhile but you realised she got uncomfortable so you just held her leg back while a nurse held the other.

“You’re a star, Amber. Breathe, dear. Take a breath.” Elliott reminded, “Breathe, mama. Breathe.”

Amber was swallowing her tears and nodding, unable to even utter a single word.

“You’re getting one?” Elliot asks, hearing her grunt and sniffling. “Push, and breathe through it. You got this, come on.”

Amber looks at you, and your free hand stroked her head, “You can do it, honey. She’s almost here, almost.”

She grabbed your hand and squeezed it through this wave of pain, biting on her lip to keep from screaming. “It’s okay if you need to scr—” The nurse says, worried.

Amber just shook her head profusely, still not saying anything. Amber’s eyes shot open, feeling sudden relief. Loud, piercing cries filled the room. A breath you didn’t even notice you were holding, was finally let out upon hearing that cry. Amber fully burst into tears at that moment, as did you.

She did it.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you.” You leaned down to capture her lips into your own, “I’m so proud of you, I love you.”

“Here she is.” Elliot placed the newborn on Amber’s chest, she calms down almost instantly.

Amber licked her lips, sniffling, “Oh, hi. Hi, baby girl.” Amber stroked her cheek with her finger softly, you just watched them. Finally feeling the calm after the intense chaos. And you just knew that you three would be absolutely fine. Your heart swelled at the sight, seeing them together, feeling yourself falling more in love than ever with your wife. How insane was all that? Not one scream. Not more complaints than she’d let out in the heat of the moment. That’s just who she was, doing what she needed do no matter how challenging it could get. She got through it, she got through it all. Because that’s who Amber was. Someone who doesn’t give up, someone who always believed and someone who always gave her all.

And you couldn’t wait to see how this new chapter unfold, getting to give your love to your little girl and getting to grow old with the strongest person you’ve ever known.

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N: I’m not to satisfied with the ending of this one, but uh, here it is

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Bond to Happen Part 10

Part 10: Only One Bed

Warnings: thunderstorm, anxiety, mild flashback

Word Count: 3900ish

“C’mon, Frank. You’re backing out of our deal!” You grouse.

“I’ll make it up to you, kid, but plans changed and Bill needs me to stay behind and supervise some of the new recruits,” Frank explains the last minute change in site check.

You lean back and see that Billy’s door is open as he packs up his laptop.

“William,” you whine. “Did Frank ask to get out of going today so he can avoid paying up?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, Josie’s got the flu and we need an extra pair of hands here while we’re gone,” he says, walking into the hallway.

“Alright,” you accept, pouting. 

“What did he promise you?” Billy asks, amused.

“Control of the music for the drive there and back,” you share.

“Damn, Castle, are you sure you didn’t get Josie sick to get out of this?” He teases.

“Hey, my taste in music isn’t that bad. Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Frank just refuses to listen to music from this century.”

“Tell you what, since you’re driving with me now, you can control the music on the way there, but I get veto power and no promises for the drive back,” Billy says sternly, pointing his finger at you.

“Yay!” You exclaim, giving a little jump before practically skipping down the hallway towards the elevator.

“You realize what you’ve done, right Russo?” Frank asks incredulously as they lag behind.

“She gets nervous on these trips sometimes, if it makes her feel better, I can suffer through Taylor Swift and the entire Moana soundtrack,” Billy says.

“She’s actually moved on to the Encanto one now,” Frank warns.

“Great,” Billy responds wryly as they catch up to you right when the elevator doors open.

You are ready to go and get it over with, but Billy ends up having to handle a few things first, and then it’s almost lunch time and he insists the two of you eat before you go, which takes longer than it should, and then you somehow spill your coffee all over yourself and have to go back to your apartment to rinse of and change because Billy says you should be comfortable especially with a long drive. By the time you finally get on the road, it’s well into the afternoon. The two of you are lucky that the real estate agent is fine with your tardiness. It’s too late in the day for him to give you a tour so he just tells you where to find the key and asks you to lock up when you are done.

“This will be fun,” you grin as you chuck your purse into the backseat. True to everyone’s expectations, you play Taylor Swift and various Disney songs for almost the entire drive, giggling when Billy makes a face or rolls his eyes at your antics. In your defense, you had a lot of nervous energy and dramatically reenacting ‘We Don’t Talk About Bruno’ helped focus some of it.

“I’ll give you a break from my caterwauling,” you decide, turning the music down.

“You’re fine, sweetheart, sing as loud as you want. You ever heard Frankie sing?” Billy asks, smiling softly.

“No, is he any good?”

“No, he’s not,” Billy answers, shaking his head with a grin.

“What about you?” You ask, curious, eyes fixed onto his face as he focuses on the road. Something flickers across his face, an emotion you can’t name before it’s gone. 

“I don’t sing,” he confesses.

“Ever?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, what do you like to do, then?”

Billy grins lasciviously. You interrupt him before he can speak. “A real answer, Russo,

I’ve seen enough women coming to and from your apartment to know you’re a rake.”

“A rake, huh?” He asks, shooting a look at you. You shrug.

“I figure it’s a more polite term.” You shrug.

“Fine, fine, gimme a second to think of another answer,” he sighs. After a minute or two he admits, “I like to read sometimes.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray,” he answers.

“I’ve only ever watched the movie,” you profess.

“The book’s always better than the movie, Blue,” he says, clicking his tongue at you.

“I’m sure it is, it’s just not really the sort of book I usually read.”

“What is?” 

“The official answer is going to be fantasy romance,” you declare.

“And the unofficial one?” Billy asks with a sly grin on his face.

“Nope, we are sticking with the official answer.”

His grin widens and now you’re wondering if he actually knows what ‘oh yeah, I just read fantasy romance’ is code for.

“You aren’t even gonna tell me the last book you read?” He feigns offense. 

“I’ve been going through the ‘A Court of Rose and Thorns’ series,” you confess. 

“Faerie porn?” He laughs.

“How do you even know what that is?”

He shrugs. “Never read it, but I’ve been told about it.”

“By who?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Probably some of the women you’ve seen going to and from my apartment,” he teases.

“Ew.” You say, wrinkling your nose. “You can barely call it porn. It’s not even that smutty, mid level at best.”

“Oh really, sweetheart? What books would you consider ‘smutty’ enough for you?”

You rub a hand over your face as you blush. “I’m gonna stop talking now since I’m just digging myself in deeper.”

Billy lets it go for a moment and you think you’re in the clear when he says, “So I’m guessing you have kindle unlimited too, then.”

You huff at the smug look on his face. “You know too much, Russo, you’re a menace to women everywhere.”

“Only to the ones that ask nicely.” He winks and you groan in annoyance.

******

“This wall is problematic,” you tell Billy. “You should have someone look at it, I think there’s some structural integrity issues that won’t show up initially but may be a problem within the next few years.”

Billy nods and adds your comments to his notes. The sky is dark outside, though you know the sun had only just begun to set. Gray clouds have blocked out the sun and it’s been raining softly with the occasional far off clap of thunder.

“Also the owners are going to hype it up if you make an offer like they have a bunch of people interested in it. They don’t, only a couple of people have even looked at it this year and no one’s asked about renting or purchasing it.”

“What would I do without you?” Billy asks.

“Literally, just fine. You’d figure all of this out eventually, I just tell you a little sooner,” you say dryly. It was true of most of what you saw for your job, most of it he and he team would either find out eventually or would be easily prepared to handle. Only occasionally did you give them a pivotal piece of information. Sometimes you wonder why he kept you in your position, especially with how well he pays you.

“Well then, you save me a whole lotta time,” Billy insists, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You ready to get outta here?”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything else I can tell you right now,” you admit.

“Maybe we can grab food on the way back, I’m starving.”

“That sounds like a g-” a loud crack of thunder interrupts you and you let out an involuntary shriek. You feel your face redden at your reaction, even as you feel your heart continue to pound painfully in your chest from the jolt to your senses. “Sorry, I was going to say that sounds like a good idea.”

Billy’s watching you curiously and you’re not sure what to make of it.

“Not a fan of storms, huh?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Not unless I’m in my bed and they’re a bit farther off. The thunder gets too loud for me.” Not to mention the sheer energy thunderstorms had. It always makes your hair stand on end and the back of your neck prickle. You used to love them, but now your most prominent memory of a thunderstorm is one of the worst nights of your life.

The two of you move through the building as the rain comes down more heavily against the windows. You reach the exit and it’s positively pouring.

“Bet you’re regretting that fancy suit right now,” you tease to cover your nerves. Billy continues to eye you with that strange look in his eyes, a little too analytical for your comfort.

“Bet you’re regretting not bringing a real jacket,” he volleys back. He’s right, your black cardigan may be comfy and long enough to reach your knees, but it’s not going to do much against this weather.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you huff, running out before he can react. Even with your head start, you reach the car at the same time and he opens your door for you, something you roll your eyes at. He slips into the driver’s seat, previously perfectly coiffed hair, now soaked and beginning to curl at the tips. You open the navigation on your phone and begin directing Billy back to the freeway. There’s a good amount of traffic considering the time, and you wish you’d had the forethought to try and leave earlier in the day to avoid it. Billy tries to start a conversation a few times, but you’re too focused on not flinching everytime you see lightning or hear thunder to talk much. Not even 30 minutes into your slowly moving drive, a traffic alert comes through your phone.

“Well fuck,” you say. 

“What is it?” Billy asks, glancing at you.

“There’s a pretty bad accident up ahead a ways, the road crumbled in a few places from the rain and caused a 7 car pile up.” 

“Well fuck,” Billy agrees. “Okay, we’ll get off at this exit and reroute, yeah?”

You nod, looking for alternative routes, all of which are currently congested with people who had the same idea. “Traffic’s pretty bad on the long way home. There are a couple back roads around it, but the advisory says to avoid them cuz they’re prone to flooding.”

Another peal of thunder punctuates your words and your hands jerk up to cover your ears as your eyes squeeze tightly shut. When it passes, you force your body to relax. Billy’s focused on the road as he takes the exit to a small town that you can barely make out through the rain. But you catch him glancing at you with concern. You don’t know how Billy can see enough to drive and the thought makes your muscles tense more with fear. He pulls into a fast food parking lot and parks, before taking your phone and checking the routes.

“Are you able to see a good way home?” He asks, turning towards you in his seat. You try, you really do. But you’re a bit drained from earlier and your body is so tense from the near constant thunder, that you can only see images from the storm.

“I can’t focus enough to see anything but the storm. I’m sorry, Russo, I should’ve noticed it before we left or at least checked this morning.”

“It’s okay, I know your sight’s not an exact science and you’re probably already exhausted from the week we’ve had. It ain’t your fault,” he reassures you. You nod robotically at his words, not really sure if you believe them. If something happened and he ended up getting hurt because you were too tired to see, you don’t know if you could forgive yourself.

Billy runs a hand through his hair and hums in thought. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if you’re gonna like it, so the decision is yours.”

“Okay, hit me,” you say as you try to smile through the anxiety still caught in your chest.

“The freeway is going to be backed up for hours with how bad that crash is and it looks like the asphalt is still continuing to crumble. There is a back road that might work, but this car isn’t really made to deal with any potential mud or flooding and we might end up getting stuck out there somewhere until the storm clears.

“My idea is we stop here for the night or until things clear up, there’s a hotel down the street. We can grab a room and watch some shitty TV while we wait, maybe get some rest. It’s up to you.”

You consider it. You don’t like sleeping in new places for obvious reasons and hotels are usually more densely populated than your apartment building which would make it near impossible to rest under normal conditions. But if you were close to Billy, his aura would probably be a buffer for most of it. And you really don’t want to spend hours more out in the storm tonight.

“I’d be okay with that,” you admit.

*****

“It could be worse,” you say as you look at the full sized and single gray arm chair in the corner. Billy drops his duffle onto the ground by the bed. He keeps a back up bag in the trunk of all his cars just in case. It has some extra clothes, first aid, some MRE’s, guns and ammo (which he kept in the car, he only brought in the gun he always carries on him), and a few knives.

“There isn’t even a couch,” Billy laments, rubbing his hand over his face.

“But there is a TV,” you counter. “And a microwave for if I end up reheating this food in the middle of the night. I still can’t believe you ordered that much for me, it’s like you’ve never eaten a meal with me before.” You stuff another chicken nuggets in your mouth and hum happily.

He rolls his eyes at you and loosens his tie, a motion your eyes track closely and you swallow. “I’ve seen you eat after readings, I’ve learned it’s better to have extra than not enough.”

“Good point. No one is fun when they’re hangry.” You set down the bag of food and pull off your cardigan, it’s soaked through after the two of you had to park on the far end of the hotel lot and run through the rain again. Your lilac colored shirt sticks to your skin and you hope you chose to wear a white bra this morning, but you can’t remember for sure. Billy reaches into his duffle and tosses a bundle of red and gray fabric at you. You catch it before it can hit the ground and look at him questioningly.

“I figured you might want something dry to wear,” he says and you notice him looking very pointedly away from you. You look down at yourself. Looks like you had chosen your black bra this morning. You really hadn't expected this shirt to become so sheer when wet. 

You thank him and quickly move to the bathroom, shucking your soaked clothes, including your bra which is almost as soaked as your shirt and currently rubbing your skin raw. You towel dry your hair, grateful to remove some of the excess moisture, before getting dressed. The clothes smell like Billy, something slightly spicy sweet, sandalwood, and hints of the scent of his ridiculously expensive hair products. You like it more than you want to admit.

You pull on the red henley, it’s a bit big on you, especially in the sleeves, but it’s soft and comfortable. The gray sweatpants, on the other hand, have to be rolled up several times so they don’t drag on the floor. You trade places with Billy so he can change as well. While you wait, you choose a side of the bed and settle down. Flicking on the TV and surfing through the channels. 

Billy comes out and you do a double take. You swear his black t-shirt is a size too small because it leaves very little to the imagination. He’s wearing matching black sweats, something you take note of before quickly averting your eyes. Thinking about Billy Russo in sweatpants was not going to lead to anything good. But he moves around to your side of the bed, partially obscuring your view of the TV.

“Move over,” he orders.

“What, why?” You ask, confused. You’d already settled in and gotten comfortable, legs tucked underneath you, arms wrapped around an extra pillow.

“So I’m closer to the door, now move,” he says, gesturing with his hands.

You roll your eyes. “If it’s that important to you, then alright.” You shuffle over to the other side and he takes your spot.

“It’s a force of habit,”

“Frank usually sleeps farthest from the door, something about having more reaction time. I thought you’d do the same,” you explain.

“If I was alone, sure,” he shrugs, stealing the remote.

“Rude, I was still using that.” You don’t really mind though, you’re tired and don’t care what’s on. “What’s the difference? With where you sleep, I mean.”

“This way, if someone came in, they’d reach me before you,” he says.

“Oh.” You think it’s a nice sentiment, though you doubt anyone is going to attack you in the middle of a storm at some random hotel. Even so, it reminds you of your mom and dad. Looking back, you remember how he always slept closest to the door, always walked on the sidewalk closer to the street. Little things that didn’t seem like much at the time, but just reinforced how much he loved your mom. It made your chest ache to think about. Sometimes you miss them so much, even with how they treated you at the end, even with how angry you are at them.

Billy turns on some sort of discovery channel show and sets the remote down on the nightstand. You notice that he’s scooted as far towards the edge of the bed as possible, but even with that, his shoulders are broad enough and the bed is small enough that it’s only sheer force of will that keeps you from touching. You yawn, turning off the lamp on your own nightstand.

“You don’t have to sit like that on my account, Bill.” You yawn again, exhaustion fully hitting you as your adrenaline high from the storm dissipates. “I don’t mind either way.” “You sure?” he checks.

You nod. “Mmhmm.”

You feel the bed shift as he relaxes a bit. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat from his body at your side. You are hyper aware of every movement of your body, every breath and blink. Billy is so close to you and your fingers itch to reach out and touch him.

A particularly loud blast of thunder rattles the windows and the lights flicker. You managed not to make a noise this time by biting your bottom lip hard and digging your nails into your palm.

“Is there anythin’ I can do?” Billy asks.

“It’s okay. It’s an irrational fear.”

“It took me a long time to get used to thunderstorms once I left the Marines,” Billy admits.

“How did you?”

Billy shrugs. “I forced myself to face it, any of the loud noises that uh triggered me, and eventually I was more or less over it. I wouldn’t recommend that way though.” He adds the last bit as an afterthought, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Maybe I should. I guess my preferred method is to avoid things and hope they go away. It would be nice to actually be able to enjoy storms again.”

“Did you used to?”

“Yeah, I used to love them.”

“What changed?”

Blood, pain, pavement, minds full of fire. You push down the memories. 

“You don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable. I don’t mean to pry.”

“I had a bad experience during a storm. Haven’t liked them since.”

Billy nods in understanding. The lights flicker and go out in another crash of thunder and you can’t help but reach out and grasp Billy’s arm as you startle.

“Sorry,” you say as you remove your hand.

“S’okay, you can hold my hand anytime you want, sweetheart.” Even through the dark you can see his wink.

 “You are incorrigible,” you complain, but secretly you’re grateful for him. That actually managed to make you smile just a little.

In the dark, the exhaustion hits you more fully and you stifle a yawn.

“I think I’m going to take a nap, wake me if anything changes?” You force yourself to say as your body tries to fall asleep. You’re not sure he hears you and you think you’re mumbling a bit as you sink onto your side, facing away from him and towards the window. You’re warm enough in his clothes that you stay on top of the blankets.

“‘Course, sweetheart, get some rest.”

“Night, Billy.” You’re out before you hear his reply.

******

There are many things that Billy does not like, many things that he even hates. Handsy strangers, cheap shoes, traffic, being called pretty, green beans, the summer heat, and sand to name a few. Billy adds seeing you afraid to the list. The urge to comfort someone doesn’t come naturally. He has had to practice and teach himself how to react when people are upset. Billy has the opposite problem with you. The urge to comfort you is too strong. Your trust is a fragile thing and this is not the night to push your boundaries. Still, Billy wishes he could wrap you in his arms and cover your ears until the storm passes.

As is, the moment he hears your breathing settle and feels your body relax into sleep, he lets himself reach out and brush his fingertips against your hair and down to your shoulder. It most definitely is not because he craves contact after the brief touches you have gifted him, albeit often subconsciously. It’s also not because he wants reassurance that you are real and safe by his side. No, it is neither of those two reasons. Billy does not have an explanation for why he does it. He does not have an explanation for why he watches you through the darkness as you sleep. Only when you turn towards him and lean your forehead against his arm does Billy finally allow himself to close his eyes and rest.

******

The first thing you notice when you wake up, is how quiet it is. Not physically quiet, you hear the air conditioner rattling on full blast and know the power must have returned during the night. Your magic is quiet. No auras buzzing for your attention. Just Billy’s soothing and steady energy. The second thing you notice is that your face is pressed against something warm. Your eyes flutter open and you’re surprised to note that you turned towards him at some point in the night, apparently going as far as to lean your forehead against his bicep. You’re too comfortable to move and your self control seems to still be asleep so you stay where you are, readily breathing in Billy’s scent. After a few minutes of peace, you’re awake enough to realize you need to move before you cross any boundaries so you pull away.You aren’t sure if Billy noticed your cuddling at any point during the night, as he wakes up and greets you only once you return from the bathroom. You also aren’t sure what to do with the burgeoning realization that you wanted him. And with your magic being so agreeable around him, maybe, just maybe, you could have him.

Series List

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@evyiione, @kayhi808, @ellooo0ooo, happydeanpotter, intothesoul

[b22-4u]

One of the most humbling days of my life: the day before thanksgiving 2021

From what I remember it was just another day, I was doing some work in a new area for solar and one person at the end of the road got upset and called the cops for door knocking.

Like a few other times this has happened and the cops showed up, I was polite understanding all sides. The cop was nice and we had short talk for a moment. She took my id and when she put it over the radio they said something to her and well she’d then ask me to put my hands behind my back.

One of my first thoughts was “why now”

But that’s for another story.

I had failed to appear at court for a case almost 5 years prior (also another story) and it hadn’t shown up until now.

The drive to the jail wasn’t long in reality but it felt like a long time, I knew my job was going to find out and that sucked, I knew my family would find out and that wasn’t so bad, I knew what people would think. I knew they wouldn’t really ever get to know each he full story and honestly sometimes neither do I. But I know it better, so whatever they thought or you the reader may think, just knows there’s more to it than was appears on the surface.

I had dreamt of being in jail for years now, there’s something about being stuck that really just tickles my anxiety to all time highs. I had seen this day coming a million miles away and boom it was finally here. Later perspective would say I’m glad this day finally came.

I get to the jail, one thing to the next and I’m in a holding cell with 6 plus people. People transferring/ murderers /domestic abusers/ thief’s* inside with me. And we’ll I’m tiny 🐣 but I wasn’t scared of the people inside I was more afraid of what was waiting for me on the outside. The people inside were just people. The type of people I’d grown up around. But on the outside I had fucked up again and I know those closest to me at the time expected this as well. Now let’s back up real quick.

I’ve mad a million mistakes, I’ve done wrong and although I’d like to think im a good person I accepted that I probably wasn’t and needed to change the way I was. Anyone who’s ever thought this definitely knows it doesn’t happen the first day,week,month, year. It’s a process. A long drawn out mental process. And at the point of this story I had began to make a come back. (More details in another story) but I was in love and although I had a lot on my plate to fix, I began fixing the most important part. My MIND. This period was very crucial to my growth. There was still a billion things to fix but I was finally in the right direction. I had finally found the person I thought I was meant to be with, the problem was I knew I wasn’t ready. I bring this up because this person I looked up too, you know that feeling when you’d fuck up as a teen and you knew your parents would still love you but they would be soooo disappointed, well I didn’t have that for my parents but with her I did. This idea that someone would look at the mess I made and still come sit beside me helped me grow and understand that this life isn’t about me. It’s about those around you who will hold you up when your down. Who won’t let you just petty yourself, but hold you up and accountable. I’ll touch more on this another time getting back to the story.

If you didn’t know jail was definitely not meant for someone with adhd. In case you didn’t know. I paced that 10-12 cell with 4 rows (one broke) for 8 hrs and I get ptsd just writing this lol I’m a weenie but for real it wasn’t fun. I didn’t care that I was in jail, I cared that I made it this far just to collide back down and I let down the only person I looked up to at this point in my life The day before thanksgiving. I’ve been a million things, being the person who let someone down who believed in them was by far my least favorite thing. I felt humbled

-B 4/10/23

[harleeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

my mom and i drove by my grandpa’s ranch today. my family and i used to drive there every fall and go fishing and watch the willy wonka with gene wilder.

we had our playlist on shuffle, and as we drove past, "it's your love" by tim mcgraw came on. my dad used to sing that to me when i was little to get me to sleep

i can never hear it without crying.

so we listened to it as we drove past the cabin. it looks so different and yet the same. i saw the fence i used to hop. the creek i lost my plastic fish that came with my disney princess fishing rod.

i felt so sad and bitter

i wanted to flip it off because i was so mad at him

because i loved it so much and now i can't go there because he's a jerk and we had to go low contact with him

and it's so crazy because i'm in high school and dad is retired. i always thought we would live there now.

and suddenly i was there. pink lasso, jeans and long blonde hair. and then i was back to now. i have great friends, i competed in a shakespeare competition, made so many new connections and memories, but i am still stuck in my hometown.

i cried like ten times just on the drive home

we revisited all the places we used to go when i was little- the cowboy store i bought my pink lasso and cow girl hat. i used to lasso my dog and he was so traumatized.

we drove past the burger place that always looked like diabetes but was sooo good. we tried to go to the ice cream and movie theatre spot, but it was closed and they took down the giant concrete ice cream cone. i suddenly felt all the time go by. why am i trying to grow up so fast? why do i have a list of colleges i want to go to and a list of jobs i want when i’m not even a senior in high school yet? i went through old photos of me. i was so pretty and happy for a while. then you know, life hits. i got anxiety and all that jazz. i did learn to cope though, and i’ve gotten so far.

three songs went through my head. “skinny” by billie eilish,

”but the old me is still me and maybe the real me and i think she’s pretty”

“love like you” from steven universe

”look at you go, i just adore you. i wish that i knew what makes you think i’m so special”

and “boy” by lee brice

“boy, you’re gonna hate this town, wish you could burn it down. that fire in your eyes is 20 counties wide but boy, you're gonna love 17 and boy, you'll do some stupid things you're gonna drive and kiss and throw a punch and grow up way too fast”

i wonder if she would think i’m pretty.

update i guess: my family was in the kitchen cooking for a little lunch thing with a couple friends and i am recovering from a cold so i was just in my room. my little sister came into my room and said, in a very goofy manner, “bad news, come to the kitchen for a ✨family meeting✨.” so i’m like damn okay probably just telling us to like make sure the house is clean or something. so i’m leaning against the kitchen counter while everyone is cooking and my dad finally finishes his task and says, “so i just got off the phone with grandpa.” shit what’s wrong? did he fall? is he dying? did ellie die?(a topic for another day) “he’s selling the cabin. he told me and it seems like basically a done deal.” fucking bastard. i have never held a deep resentment for a family member before except about little things, until now. i sat, trying not to cry. i didn’t say anything. what do i say? oh golly that sucks? ok? asshole? how do you respond to that? so i just stared, sipping my drink. my mom knows that would fuck me up and was like “you okay?” once i finally moved. i said yeah and left. i really really really resent him. my mom promised me that one day we’d go back there when we drove past it. but now, like my plastic fish, i doubt i’ll ever go back. how do we go forth from here? my dad’s truck has a sticker with the name of the ranch on it. i thought i was going to live there. i don’t know why i’m so upset, but god am i pissed

[veenxys]

“wait.. are you serious?” shinso asks, looking at the tickets in your hand and at you again.

“i thought you wanted to enjoy life more” you say, doing a bad impression of him.

“well yes i do..but i don’t know if going to a concert in another city on a wednesday is a good idea y/n. we have class tomorrow”

“..and?”

he looks at you confused, as if the two of you are speaking completely different languages.

“urgh c’mon shinso! is our favorite band, it’s not often that an opportunity like this comes along!”

he takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his shaggy hair, holding it above his forehead as he says something like “this is crazy” under his breath. he looks at you; the sparkle in your eyes and a smile you try to hide makes his heart race and a mixture of anxiety and nervousness takes over him; and he knows you can see the tug of war in his mind.

“you have to seize the moment, hitoshi. have you seen them playing live? it’s awesome and i promise you won’t regret it”

he’s biting his nail again, and you can’t help but roll your eyes because he’s making this harder than it should.

“no”

“hmm, too bad.. that i’m not taking no for an answer,” you say as you stand up, tucking your laptop into your backpack before placing it on your back. you adjust your jacket and he watches you with his mouth open, not knowing if you’re serious or not.

“thanks for helping me with my homework hitoshi, now go study. i’ll pick you up at your place later” you say smiling, leaning into him and leaving a kiss on his temple before leaving.

and shinso is taken out of his thoughts when you turn up the radio with one hand while the other is on the steering wheel; your face minutes before concentrated is now happy, amused as the music fills the car.

you tap your fingers softly on the steering wheel to the beat of the music while the wind from the open window ruffles your hair, and shinso can’t stop looking at you.

a small but genuine smile plays on his lips as he leans his head back on the seat and that’s when you feel the weight of his gaze on you, even with him wearing sunglasses you can feel it. “what?” you say with a playful smile.

“you are insane”

you laugh and his smile just gets bigger. he gently runs his fingers over your jaw and takes a deep breath when you reply with a sarcastic smile “if i am insane, then what are you?”, he didn’t want to go, but he knows he would regret it if he didn’t go with you.

the trip was going to be a long one, but honestly he doesn’t care now as he watches you drive, singing and smiling to a song that’s playing on the radio, he doesn’t know the song, but he makes a mental note to listen to more of this band later. 

“look, it’s showtime,” you say as you look into the rearview mirror; the sun setting as the sky becomes a vast expanse of orange and pink, like a work of art you couldn’t believe was real.

he smirks and turns his head back to look, the sunlight reflects off his glasses and you glance at him quickly before looking at the road ahead again, but you know this scene will stay in your mind for a while a long time; his hair messed up as usual, falling lightly over his forehead, the small smile he has on his face, his jawline and how handsome he looks in sunglasses.

and when the sky darkens and the stars begin to appear, shinso offers to drive; he knows you must be tired and nothing fairer than doing this for you, you’ve done so much for him.

and the next moments pass like a flash in shinso’s head; parking next to the concert, waiting what seems like an eternity in line and when you finally get in, he feels like he’s in another world: hours before he was bored in his room, listening to songs by his favorite band, and now he’s at his favorite band’s concert with his favorite people and with excited people running towards the stage while lights dazzle his vision.

he puts one hand in front of his eyes but before he can do anything you take his other hand and start walking a little too fast closer to the stage. he bumps into some people but he doesn’t care, he’s too focused on your hand holding his. and when you finally stop, he accidentally bumps into you, which makes you laugh and turn to him.

“it’s showtime,” you smile, and he smiles back. the lights go out and everyone screams, and then the show begins.

the loud sound vibrates inside you as if your heart makes the beats, the blinding lights made the atmosphere even more energetic and vibrant; you and shinso jump and scream at the top of your lungs, having fun and indulging in music like never before. and sometimes you had to take each other’s hands or arms so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.

it was all amazing, special and unique. but one moment that will stay in your mind forever was when your favorite song played; you quickly looked at each other as the guitarist played the first chords, shinso’s gaze shone like a diamond as a huge smile appeared on his lips, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw him so happy. and you smiled, smiled for him and for being here with him, smiled when the singer looked at the two of you together and pointed at you as he sang the song, you smiled like never before that day because of him. 

“you liked it?” you ask, voice a little hoarse, your hair messy as you look hopefully at shinso as he fastens his seat belt. the adrenaline and emotion in your veins slowly draining away as you looked into each other’s eyes in the car.

“are you kidding? that was awesome, y/n. i don’t think i’ve had this fun since… since forever” he smiles widely.

you smile back and the peaceful silence takes over both of you.

the moon lights up the parking lot and you can’t help but smile when you see some people looking for their cars as excited as the two of you were a few minutes ago.

“thank you,” shinso says, holding your hand and giving it a light squeeze as he looks at it, “for bringing me. for ignoring my ‘no’” you laugh and he smiles together, this time looking at you, “thanks for being you”

you don’t know what to say, it seems like all your words got stuck in your throat but for shinso, you didn’t need to say anything, just your look was enough for him.

you squeeze his hand in response and he smiles as he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. you two stay like that for a few seconds, until your heart returns to the normal, quiet beats it had before the show, until your minds stop spinning or your ears ring from the loud music.

“we should do this again”

you turn your head to him with a wry smile “this is surprising for someone who said they didn’t want to come a few hours ago”

he laughs and looks at you, your gazes fix one on each other and neither of you can look away first. you two just stand there, holding hands, looking at each other inside the car in an empty parking lot, and it’s that thought that makes shinso realize, “what’s stopping us now?”

then he looks away to your lips and looks into your eyes again, like a silent request, and the sparkle in your eyes and the way you also looked at his soft lips were more than enough answers for him.

he gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek with his thumb before lazily placing his hand on the back of your neck. he gets so close you can feel his breath against your skin, so you close your eyes and he brushes his lips against yours before finally kissing you. a soft, lazy kiss that soon becomes deeper and more passionate.

you two just separate for lack of air; foreheads still touching, he caresses the back of your neck and can’t help but smile when you whisper against his lips “you’re right, i think we should do this again.”

[asterlark]

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

[after-witch]

Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Chisaki lets you indulge in your little hobbies. But he’s starting to suspect that you’re taking advantage of his “generosity.” 

For request: @hello-lucky-luka​ said: Remember that one ask about overhaul’s angel having a boyfriend? Can I request a scenario where she misses her boyfriend a lot that she draws pictures of him to the point where overhaul got his attention and get jealous?

Word count: 2700ish

You’re not lying, you reason. You’re not, technically speaking, hiding anything. Overhaul never asks to see your sketchbook. And he never said you couldn’t draw someone you know. So the fact that you have been drawing your boyfriend every day since your captor gifted you the hefty, nicely bound thick sketchbook is something you force yourself not to worry about. 

Sometimes you find yourself sketching just a bit of him--his hands holding onto his favorite coffee mug, the profile of his face, looking up, staring at a movie marquee on a date night.

Sometimes you draw his face in all its glory--smiling, frowning, annoyed. When you have lots of energy, lots of drive (which is not often, you feel so tired now, all the time; the lack of movement and weariness of captivity is getting to you) you draw an entire scene. Your favorite is the one you’re doing now, though to be fair, every new drawing is your favorite because it’s new. This one, you admit, is exceptionally special. You’ve drawn him sitting in the park, with a book in his lap.

The park, like everything else, is from memory. You wavered on where to put the tree behind the bench, because you can’t quite remember if it’s off-center or not, and whether or not it had a knot in the trunk towards the bottom or the middle. But it’s realistic, and that’s enough for now.

It’s your boyfriend that gives you the most pride in this piece. You’ve outdone yourself, you really have. He looks… alive. Weighty. Real. Real enough that you wish you’d done this in color and not just with your sketch pencils. Real enough that you close your eyes and imagine you’re in the park, that he’s sitting there with his book, engrossed in a story, so engrossed that he doesn’t see you coming. You stop in your tracks and admire his face, preserve the way he looks so focused, so far-away, to memory. You admire the way the breeze gently blows his hair, and a hand absentmindedly pushes his bangs (he needs a trim, or a style) away from his face before he flips a page.

Finally you can stand it no longer, and though you hate to break his concentration, you glide up to the bench and sit next to him. He jumps, but once he sees its you his body tension melts away and he slides closer until your thighs touch. “Good book?” You ask. He nods, then looks ahead. He looks concerned. Or focused. You’re not sure. “Are you okay?” He gives you a look of surprise, of worry, then a smile. “Of course. I just…” His hand fiddles in his pocket. There’s something there, something bulky and square. “Wanted to ask you something…” Your heart is hammering because you know what’s in his pocket and his hand is moving and he’s about to ask you and you’re smiling--

“Who did you draw?”

You’re not in the park--you’re not in the park--and your boyfriend is not here, and Overhaul is looming above you and he’s looking right at your sketchbook.

You slam the book closed and you know in the instant that you do that it was the wrong move. Defensive. Obvious. Shit, shit, shit shit.

You stare ahead and will yourself not to shake.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“I…”

You don’t know where it comes from, but the courage to lie comes from somewhere, and you deliberately, slowly reopen your book to the exact page.

“Sorry,” you say, finally, looking up at him. You laugh, breathy and light. His face is impassive, as always. “You scared me. I was really focused, trying to, you know, think of what’s missing.” You pick up a pencil and fiddle with it, make a line here and there, useless things really, to make it look like you want to keep going.

“Mm.”

Your heart is beating so hard that it almost hurts.

“You didn’t answer my question. Who did you draw?” To anyone else, his tone might seem casual, neutral. Bored, even. But you know there’s something simmering underneath, the low threat of perceived bad behavior, the low threat of him sitting you down for “a talk,” or the distant promise returning to a particular small room and confinement. 

You force yourself to smile, nervously. No point in hiding the anxiety that he knows is there, after all. “Oh! It’s,” and in a split second the idea comes to you, genius--”just a character from that book I was reading the other day.” You set your book down and casually--you hope it looks casual--reach up to the shelves installed along the walls behind your desk to pluck the book out. “The one about the guy who came home from war and no one remembered him, so he starts a new life in a new town.”

You set the book back in place and glance up at Chisaki, who stares down at you. You’re about to blurt out something, anything, to fill the silence when he nods. It’s a tension-cutting nod, a nod that tells you you’re okay, you haven’t fucked up, he believes you and you can stop feeling like you’re going to throw up now.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the book.”

He’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine. For now, you think, for now. You want him to leave before he starts asking more questions.

“Kai?”

“Yes?” His eyes crinkle ever-so-slightly. A smile, you think, behind the mask. Maybe.

You smile in what you hope is a sheepish, not nervous, expression. “Could I take a nap today? I’m feeling kind of tired.”

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes your fingers curl on the hard back of your sketchbook. Does he know?

He reaches out with a gloved hand and there’s a split second of fear--you’re done for--before he simply brushes your cheek. One of his rare, yet increasingly common, touches.

“Of course you can. I’ll set a timer so you don’t sleep too long.”

He turns and leaves your room through he unassuming door that connects to his office and you mumble a quiet thank you as it shuts. He’ll know if you don’t nap--you swear he has cameras in the room, though he denied it when you asked--so you tuck your sketchbook into the drawer of the desk and decide to hop into bed. A nap might help you feel less anxious, anyway. Your captor doesn’t let you nap long enough to dream, so you’ll be spared a nightmare.

**

You wake, almost jerking up, to the sudden, loud beeping of Overhaul’s watch--which is strange, because he usually sits in his office while you nap and wakes you up in a condescendingly gentle manner.

You open your eyes and Chisaki is standing silently next to your bed.

“Um?” You rub your eyes, the gentle rest of the nap falling off you abruptly as you take in the unusual circumstances.

You sit up and oh.

He’d holding your sketchbook.

He’s flipping through your sketchbook.

And he’s really, really pissed off. The air suddenly feels heavy and there’s nothing of the cold staleness that usually permeates your mundane interactions with your captor, the awkwardness replaced instead with the gravity of your situation. For the first time in a long time, you remember who has you captive. You remember what he can do. He could hurt you. He might hurt you. Did you anger him enough to break down whatever barriers that have kept him from hurting you so far?

He flips another page and another and lets out a sarcastic hum of approval. You feel your heart beat faster at every sound.

“Is that his hand? Remarkable shading, but…”

He rips the page out and crumples it, tossing it into the large trashcan before flipping the page. “Ah,” he says, voice low and cruel. “Another one of his face.” He rips that one out with particular gusto but it doesn’t crumple--it explodes, pieces of paper flying into the air. Some of them land on you, in your hair, and you furiously bat at them and your heart hurts and you know you’re tearing up and you don’t care.

“Stop,” you say, weak. A whimper. “Stop it.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks and it’s hard to see.

“Don’t argue with me.” His tone is quick and curt, and you know there will be no mercy, no coddling. No soft hushes and shushes. Only coldness. “You’re already in enough trouble.”

At the word ‘trouble,’ you wrap your arms around your chest. Trouble, trouble, trouble. The word carries memories and connotations. Isolation. Anxiety. Boredom. Helplessness. All things you experience on a daily basis, amplified, rolling together in a thick ball that rests at the bottom of your stomach. You can’t go back in your punishment room.

“Look at me,” he says--and you do. You want to get out of trouble. If that’s possible.

Chisaki doesn’t glare at you, not precisely, but his eyes are stern and unforgiving. You wonder if he’s frowning behind the mask, but maybe it’s better not to know. Once he’s satisfied that you’re paying attention, he continues.

“You are going to get out of bed.  You are going to stand next to me. And then you’re going to rip out every drawing you’ve done of this… trash. And you will throw them away.”

You can feel the bitter, acrid taste of your lunch threatening to rise up to your throat.

“Please.” You’re whispering. You don’t have the strength to talk. “Please don’t make me do that.”

Somehow, you know--you know that if you rip up these pages, you’ll start to forget what your boyfriend looks like. The earliest drawings have the strongest features, the ones you flip to when you’re not sure about something. If those are gone, if every study you’ve done from memory is gone, you’ll forget. Just like you’ve forgotten the combination to your locker at work and the street your favorite bakery was on. You’ll forget, without the pages, without the reminders.

You know this. And Chisaki knows this, too. He always knows what you’re thinking, somehow, someway. If you could get a few steps ahead of him for once, keep yourself guarded, maybe he wouldn’t be able to effect you so much. 

“If you don’t want to destroy drawings of this garbage, I can always pay him a visit.” Your entire body goes rigid and you want to cry out and beg him--no no no--but nothing leaves your throat, thick and tight and trapped. Chisaki’s eyes practically glint as he continues. “It might be more satisfying to destroy the real thing, now that I think about it.”

Something in your throat loosens and you stand up, nearly tripping over your own feet.  You grab the book and he lets you, lets you hold it out in front of you like a burden. “I’ll do it,” you murmur, your body trembling. “I’ll do it, just… just don’t hurt him. Please. Please?” You look up and there’s no softness in his eyes, no agreeable smile that you sometimes see when he’s agreeing to give you a treat (because that is your life now, your captor agreeing to let you watch a movie is a special treat to be celebrated)--just passive coldness.

“Do what I told you, and we’ll see.”

It’s a start.

But now you have to do it.

Your drawings. Your work. Your memory of him. All pages and pencil and smudges and tears. Your entire body is trembling--you feel like the ground is moving, swaying beneath your feet. Your hands shake as you flip open to the nearest page.

An early sketch. One where your boyfriend’s face was so clear in your mind that if you had the skills to make photo realistic work, you might have been able to do it. You try to capture it to your memory but the second your hand moves, rips just a little, it seems to fly away. You pull harder and quickly wrinkle the paper in your hands before tossing it towards the trash bin.

You pause too long, apparently, because Chisaki speaks up.

“Keep going. I won’t tell you again.”

And you do. You tear out page after page, your tears flowing freely. You begin to feel numb, after a while, even as you rip out drawings that took you hours--drawings you poured your soul into, whatever is left of your soul after months and months of captivity.

One more to go.

Your hand gingerly touches the sketch that you’d been so proud of earlier. The last page. The last visual memory left--the only one not ripped apart or crumpled or shredded and nestled in your hair.

 You want to lose yourself in it again. You want to close your eyes and pretend you’re at the park and he’s about to propose and your life will be nothing but sweetness and planning for the future. But the air is too thick and Overhaul is staring and he can’t read your thoughts, but he’ll figure it out anyway.

So you rip the page out of the book and tear it in half, jagged and uneven, before throwing it into the garbage.

Your hand recoils from the ghost-like memory of the paper on your fingers and you press them against your chest, above your heart.

Your boyfriend has probably moved on by now. Maybe he’s months deep into a rebound relationship, finding himself brushing away tears at new firsts with another woman, a woman who can’t replace you but who will heal the wound you left in his heart. Who will heal your wounds?

Chisaki is staring at you, you realize, and you drop your hands. You don’t want him to think you’re fondly reminiscing. He could always change his mind about leaving your boyfriend--your ex? What do you call him? What does he call you, you wonder?--alone.

“We’re going to have a long talk about this later,” he says, voice leaving no room for argument. He pauses, and your chest feels tight. Will he tell you that you’re being sent to the quiet room? The thought of being there for days, alone, unable to do anything, barely able to move in the tight surroundings makes you shake and you dig your nails into your arm.

“You can stay in your room. You listened well.”

You swallow, throat tight, and nod. You almost want to smile. You don’t have to go back there, if you listen. You know how to listen, when it comes down to it.

Chisaki glances down at the trash bin and picks it up with his gloved hands, dragging it towards the door.

“One more thing,” he says, glancing back at you.

“Go wash your hands. They’re filthy.”

[yutaroo]

My Dear Sunflower - Chapter 1

Pairing: changbin x F!reader

genre: fluff, angst?

warnings: mentions of death, grieving, anxiety, mentions of car accidents, mention of funerals/graveyards etc.

chapters: 3 to 4?

summary: You have been in a happy relationship for 5 months with your amazing boyfriend. Everything has been going great, but now your boyfriend wants to meet up with your parents, your dead parents…

word count:

a/n: hi! this is my very first story on here, this idea just randomly popped into my head a couple weeks ago and i thought that i could give it a shot and try to see if i can write something around it. I hope it’s okay and that it makes sense? Also my first language is not english so i apologize for any mistakes i may make.

disclaimer: This story is pure fiction! and it does not in any way describe how the members are in real life!!

Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend and his friends at their apartment. It’s been quite a while since you met up with each other, since you have been caught up in your finals for uni these past few weeks. But you finally finished your last exam last week and luckily passed all of them. Meaning it’s time for some well deserved rest and quality time with your boyfriend. 

You were in the process of getting ready when your phone started ringing. “y/nnn the guys were wondering at what time you were coming over?” Changbin’s voice rang through your speaker.

“Hello to you too Changbin-ah, actually I was just about to leave when you called” you said while putting on your shoes.

“Great! i’ll see you then!” he said ending the call.

“Yea.. Bye to you too” You smiled to yourself while walking down the stairs. Once you get downstairs you quickly put on your coat, and remember to lock the door on your way out. The last thing you would want is to return home with some stranger chilling on your living room couch. 

The drive there is pretty boring and uneventful. When you finally arrive at your boyfriends apartment one go his friends opens the door. “Oh, y/n! How did your finals go?” 

“Felix! Hi! They went good! I passed all of them so I’m glad i get to spend some time with Changbin and you guys!” you respond.

“Ah i’m glad to hear that! It’s been so long since we last saw you! We really missed having you around” Felix says while letting you inside.

“I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been around that much it’s just been very hectic for me with exams and all my assignments. But I’m done now so I will be over a lot more!!” You exclaim as you give Felix your coat to hang up.

“Thank god for that! Your boyfriend has been rather whiny about not being able to see you. I think Minho would have glued his mouth shut” He laughs walking you to the living room.

“Speaking of Changbin.. Where is-” “Y/N! You're here!” A rather cheerful Changbin yells out while running up to you and engulfing you in a hug. 

“And we should thank god for that, I swear if I had to hear one more ‘I miss y/n’ or ‘I can’t wait to see y/n’ I would have considered moving out.” “Don’t be so dramatic! Can I not miss my own girlfriend after not seeing her for a month?” “Yes you can but not every 5 minutes of the day Changbin! You know you could have just driven for 15 minutes and went to visit her if you missed her so bad?” Minho’s voice yells out from the kitchen. “Yes but-” Changbin was cut off by Chan. 

“y/n! Good to see you again, how did your finals go? Did you manage to finish all your assignments?” “My finals went great! I barely managed to finish all my assignment but I did! And thankfully I passed all my classes!” You explain while taking a seat on the couch, Changbin following you swiftly and sitting down next to you “I missed you” he says while placing a kiss on your cheek “I know, I missed you too binnie” I say while smiling at him “Yea, yea we all missed y/n can we watch the movie now?” jisungs voice rings out from across the room “Jisung I swear to-” “Yes we can! What are we watching anyway?” you cut off Changbin “We should watch Deadpool!” said Seungmin.

The movie was halfway done when suddenly Changbin poked your cheek “Hey” “Y/N” “Babe” “Y/nnnn” “Lov-” “Changbin! oh my god what? I’m trying to watch the movie!” You finally give in to him “But I really missed you” He said while pouting at you “Can we not ditch the boys?” “Changbin we can’t ditch your friend they literally live here” you say while laughing “We can go to my room instead” “I really want to finish watching the movie tho” You looked up at him “Hmmpf fine” he playfully rolled his eyes at you “We can spend time together later” you say while resting your head on his shoulder. He looks down at you while smiling “Promise?” “Promise”

After the movie ended you go to Changbin’s room to spend some time with him just like you promised earlier. You were just hanging out in his room listening to music and catching up with each other when suddenly Changbin brought up the topic of your parents. “You know I was wondering since you met my parents already, maybe it’s time I should meet yours as well?” “Changbin-ah, I-” “I know you don’t really talk about them to me but i really would love to meet them!” he cuts you off “I know you want to, it’s just not that easy” you explain to him`. It’s not that you don’t want him to meet them or are ashamed to, well actually scratch that you are ashamed. Because how are you supposed to tell your boyfriend your parents are dead and it’s your fault they are? 

“You know you can always talk to me about everything right?” he says while looking at you “I know I can, it’s just complicated” you try to clarify “Don't you trust me?” “What no that’s not it! Can we just not talk about this right now please?” “No I think we should talk about it y/n, we’ve been together for almost 6 months and I don't even know your parents names! every time i bring it up you wave it off as if I just asked you some million dollar question. I really don't understand why you haven’t even told me anything about them at all! It’s almost like your ashamed of me” You can tell he’s frustrated and honestly you can't blame him, he’s always been so sweet and patient about the whole thing and there’s a part of you that really wants to tell him but you just cant find a way to bring it up. But the other part is just really scared and insecure about how to bring it up or how he will react to it, I mean It’s not everyday your significant other tells you ‘hey uhm, fun story my parents are dead and it’s all my fault’

“Binnie I’m not ashamed of you! That’s not it! You know how much you mean to me, and how much I trust you. It’s just not that easy and I know you really want to meet them, I guess I’m just scared for your reaction” Great y/n now he’s probably even more confused, god why cant you just tell him! It’s only Changbin! “No wait, I’m sorry for always bringing it up. If you don't want to talk about it right now that's okay, I just need you to know I will always be here if you do want to talk” He says while taking a hold of your hands, and it’s in that moment you realize how important it is to finally open up about everything. Just not here, you look him in the eyes and smile softly at him “I’ll take you to meet them”

[thefanficmonster]

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it. 

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went? 

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him. 

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 8

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 8

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7

Part 8

Billy read through the file on his desk for the third time that day. After the night of the gala he’d hired an investigator to gather info on you, and now all the major events in your life were neatly encompassed in a red folder, ready for his perusal. Despite your refusal to share anything, he’d managed to learn a lot about you reading your file. Except instead of giving him clarity on you, the documents triggered an avalanche of questions and emotions that left him rattled.

You grew up in the projects, in a poor neighbourhood in Chicago, but had managed to wrangle your way into a state university. He knew how expensive those were, and even with the scholarships you’d earned it was almost impossible for someone in your socio-economic background to be able to attend college – but you had, and judging by your relatively low student loans it wasn’t simply due to luck. Billy had learned a long time ago that when opportunities presented themselves, he had to make quick and tough decisions to get ahead. Rawlins had presented such an opportunity, which had given Billy the cashflow he needed to start Anvil. Who was your Rawlins, he wondered.

Throughout college you interned at a moderately-sized company in Chicago and they hired you immediately upon graduation. You never looked back after that, moving from firm to firm while going up the corporate ladder. There were so many things about your life you didn’t share with Billy but you had been honest about one thing – Anvil couldn’t afford you. If he’d hired you, your salary would be on par with his.  

Billy still remembered when he’d signed his first lucrative contract. He’d been eyeing the Wraith for months prior to that, and as soon as he could justify the purchase he did. The penthouse in a luxury high-rise building came next. You, however, were the complete opposite of him. You owned your condo, and while it was nice and in a decent neighbourhood, it certainly wasn’t a luxury purchase. You were careful with your money, except when it came to shoes. Based on your credit card records, you bought a lot but the ridiculously expensive purchases weren’t as numerous. He guessed those were the ones you bought when you were especially troubled, like Davina had said.

Billy had pored over your life starting from where you were now all the way back to your childhood. The first time he read the child abuse investigation report in your file was two days ago, and it had taken him hours to finish because of the sheer rage it provoked in him. It was an incident reported by one of your teachers after you’d shown up to school with bruises and burn marks. Of course the child protective services had done nothing, you’d been returned to your parents. There were no other reports filed after that but abuse that vicious didn’t stop just because the cops came around. Your parents probably just learned not to leave visible bruises.  Billy was all too familiar with that kind of violence and realizing you went through the same made him want to destroy every fucking person in your life that ever hurt you.

“I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy.”

Your words still rung in his ears. They had haunted him for a week now. He could still remember the strange look of apathy on your face even though your words were obviously coming from a place of hurt and anger. At the time he didn’t know what you meant, but now he understood and it both sickened and infuriated him that you felt threatened by him. What could he have possibly done to conjure the same fear in you as your goddamn family? How could you compare him to them?

“You will not destroy me.”

Your voice had been steady and calm when you said the words, a complete contrast to the confusion he’d been feeling. Fine, he may not have recognized your worth sooner before but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt you. Yet you’d accused him of doing just that and it pissed the fuck out of him. Yeah he’d bragged about Anvil to Roger but that was to get you actual protection and keep you safe – something your precious fucking Roger should have done from day one. Corporations didn’t give a fuck about their employees until their bottom lines were threatened and knowing a competitor had access to that kind of info meant bad PR for Valiant. You were smart, you should have realized exactly why Billy had played that card but instead you chose to be willfully blind and accuse him of jeopardizing your job. It made him so angry that it had taken every bit of willpower he had not to shake the stupidity out of you.

The phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. Upon seeing who it was, he picked it up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Hey, boss. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Looks like she’s lost her tail. Didn’t even take her that long. The guy’s an idiot.”

Frustrated, Billy ran his fingers through his hair. The little talk with Roger had worked and Valiant had assigned a bodyguard to you, but like everything else about the company, the guard was ineffective. Fortunately Billy had already anticipated Valiant’s ineptitude so he’d made arrangements for one of his best trackers to keep an eye on you. “Think she knows about you?”

Andy snorted. “This ain’t my first gig.”

Even though Billy knew Andy was great at what he did - he was one of Anvil’s best - it still didn’t assuage his anxieties about you. “Where is she right now?”

“Driving out of town. I’m on her tail.”

“Headed for?”

“Not sure yet. Connecticut, I think.”

Billy exhaled an agitated sigh. “Okay, let me know if there’s trouble.”

“Will do.”

After hanging up with Andy, he called your number. As expected, it went to your voicemail automatically. Just like it had every time this past week. Obviously you’d blocked him, which irritated the fuck out of him, but he realized it was something you needed to do for yourself. And if you didn’t have some unhinged lunatic after you, Billy would have given you the space you needed - but now was not the time to respect your goddamn boundaries.

“Hey, it’s me. I get it. You’re pissed but we need to talk. Call me.” He paused, breathing. A part of him wanted to add a ‘please’ but he didn’t like the thought of pleading with another person, even you. Because if he begged and you still didn’t call back… he didn’t want to think about what that meant.

Reluctantly, he put your file down and returned to reviewing the contracts in front of him.

***

It was almost two in the morning. He’d gone out for dinner with some potential clients and schmoozed the hell out of them. After a lot of booze and ass-kissing, they finally shook on the deal. All in all, it was a pretty great night except he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Every time his phone rang he hoped it was you; it never was. And now he was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of you like some lovesick fool. It was pathetic. He should have gone home with the waitress that had slipped him her number. She’d been hot, fun, and more than happy to fuck him but some stupid part of him felt guilty – actually guilty even though you’d been ignoring him for a week – of sleeping with someone who wasn’t you. What the hell was wrong with him?

Yeah, sure, he’s been in some relationships before but they never lasted long. When things were bad, they were terribly, horribly bad and the good times just weren’t worth it. And so, in the past few years, he’d decided to keep things casual with everyone until you fucking came along and dropped a bomb and now he was right back in the middle of a hurricane. Fuck you. Fuck You. Fuck you for making him feel like this. For making him feel desperate and clingy and pathetic. For making him worry about you. For making him care.

He grabbed his phone and called you. There was your fucking voicemail greeting again and the dreaded beep.

“I make you feel worthless?” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “What the fuck did I do to make you feel that way? Tell me. Because you actually haven’t given me any reasons. You just spouted some bullshit about having feelings for me before you walked away. Now you’ve blocked my number and I’m sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck I did wrong.” He scooted off the bed and began pacing the floor. “Eleven fucking months we’ve been sleeping together and you tell me nothing about yourself. Nothing. You were a glorified sex doll. A fucking fleshlight who spoke and only told me things I wanted to hear. Yes, Billy. No, Billy. Fuck me, Billy. You kept everything bottled up! Not once did we have a real conversation. And then all of a sudden you come alive and I find out there’s more to you and I want to get to know you better but then you tell me you have feelings for me, that you might actually love me and instead of giving me a chance to process any of this shit you dump my ass and block me? Fuck you, Y/N!”  

He hung up the phone, feeling much better, but within seconds that feeling of euphoric release turned to anxiety. What if you misinterpreted what he meant? What if something he said inadvertently hurt you again? This time when he called you, his voice was calmer.

“This isn’t me, Y/N. I’m not the guy who calls a woman over and over again, especially when she wants nothing to do with me. But you’re in my head. You’re everywhere I look. I don’t want to think about you, I don’t want to give a fuck about you, but I do…” He took a deep breath. “You said you might love me but I think you’re full of shit. Because when you care about someone, you don’t leave them behind. Shutting someone out, abandoning them, that’s not love. That’s being a fucking coward.”

After putting his phone back on the nightstand table, he lay back in bed with his arm propped up behind his head. He pondered the message he left, realizing the truth. As hard as he’d fought it, as much as he didn’t want to, he had fallen for you. You. Not the woman he’d been fucking for eleven months who didn’t have any personality but the real you, the woman who challenged him, who made him laugh, who was brilliant and incredibly smart and so fucking beautiful he’d get a hard-on practically every time he looked at you. There was so much about you he didn’t know, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life discovering you, fucking you, making you his.

He didn’t believe in destiny or any of that romantic nonsense. The universe had fucked him over too many times for him to accept sentimental bullshit like that. But what he did believe in was himself. Everything he had he fought for and he destroyed anyone who got in his way. Something told him you were the same as him. You two were connected.

He reached for his phone again and dialed your number. His voice was strong, calm, and resolute as he left you a final message.

“I like you. I want you. I’m not walking away.”

He hung up, smirking.

Part 9

A/N - I’m back from lovely St Maarten, all tanned and relaxed :) I hope you guys had a wonderful week, and that you enjoyed this new chapter. I know it wasn’t plot-heavy, just thought-heavy but that was on purpose. I really wanted a chapter just for Billy to process his feelings about “You”. Hope the lack of plot wasn’t a disappointment. As always, thank you for the lovely feedback on the last chapter.  I’m sorry I didn’t respond in a timely manner while I was away!  Please know that I truly appreciate the likes, the reblogs, the wonderful feedback and the asks you guys left me.

If you want me to add/remove you from the tag list, please let me know.

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[datleggy]

Buddie prompt: aggressively pro-buddie Helena and Ramon Diaz, who are ecstatic when Eddie tells them he's dating, and then utterly befuddled when he introduces Ana. But they decide to bite their tongues about it (Buck, their future son in law, has talked to them about respecting Eddie's decisions, however dumb, after all), until Ana (unwittingly? Innocently? No matter) makes a comment about Buck, and then all bets are off.

Hope this inspires you!

Helena is so relieved that Eddie finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them, that she could cry. She feels awful that it took her so long to realize it. 

It had been on Eddie’s last visit to Texas, when he and his crew had been fighting wildfires, that Ramon--her dense as can be when it comes to matters of the heart husband of all people--had noticed that their son was in love. 

Helena still remembers saying goodbye to her son and his two teammates, remembers Ramon closing the door, waiting exactly all of five seconds before turning to her and saying, “I’m happy for him. He’s so stubborn, I didn’t know if he’d ever let himself get that close to someone again.” 

And Helena had been confused at first, and then even chuckled when Ramon had explained calmly that clearly their son was dating his coworker Buck, until she’d stopped to really give it a moment’s thought. It had hit her all at once, how obvious those two were, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since they’d started dating and why Eddie hadn’t said anything yet. 

She’s seen the photos on Instagram, Helena thinks, as their plane lands. Buck smiling next to her grandbaby after helping her son build him a skateboard he could safely ride in the park. Buck standing shoulder to shoulder with Eddie behind Tia and Christopher in that Christmas photo at the station. The selfie Eddie posted of him and Buck with the giant cast still on his leg the day of the ceremony for when he was no longer a probationary firefighter with the 118. 

Really, she should’ve figured it out months ago. 

When Eddie had called and told her he’d started dating again and that the next time they came to visit he’d make an introduction Helena had been thrilled! 

Ramon drives them from the airport to their son’s place in their rental and Helena rambles on about how she hopes Buck isn’t too nervous to see them again, now that the cat’s out of the bag. 

When they arrive Eddie greets them at the door with a big hug and ushers his parents inside and Helena is so ready to step into the living room and welcome Buck into the family with open arms, to show her son that there was nothing to be afraid of, that they love him and nothing in the world would change that--

Only to be met with....not Buck? 

“Oh,” Helena stops dead in her tracks and Ramon stands beside her looking about as confused as she feels. “Hello.” she smiles politely enough. 

The woman sitting next to Christopher on the couch stands up and she’s absolutely stunning, her curls bouncing on her shoulders when she stands up to exchange hello’s. “It’s so nice to meet you both. My name is Ana.” 

The rest of the afternoon goes by just fine, but Eddie can tell something is amiss the entire time, though he does a good job of hiding it from Ana, who’s her usual charming self through out lunch. 

She has to take a work call at some point and excuses herself to another room and that’s when Eddie turns to his parents and half-whispers. “Ok, I know those looks. What’s wrong?” 

Helena shakes her head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, what is it? Ana is perfect. She’s incredibly smart, she’s funny, she’s got a great job, good head on her shoulders, and Christopher loves her--so again, I ask, what’s wrong?” 

Ramon follows his wife’s lead. “Mijo, really, it’s nothing. She’s great. We’re happy for you. I think we’re just a little tired from the flight, that’s all.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes slightly but decides there isn’t much sleuthing that can be done at the moment, so all he can do is take them at their word for now. “Fine, if you say so.” 

They’re in the middle of watching Nemo when Buck's name comes up.

"When the tsunami happened Buck and I sang 'just keep swimming' like Dory." Christopher grins up at his dad and Eddie ruffles the curls on his head playfully. It helps Christopher to be able to openly talk about what he went through that day, the good and the bad.

"You never told me Buck was there that day." Ana comments off handedly.

Eddie nods, "Huh, I thought I mentioned it? Buck took him to the pier that morning."

"It was scary but Buck saved me." Christopher tells his grandma, who reaches across the couch to squeeze his arm. Helena had been horrified to hear what had happened at the time; it still gives her anxiety just thinking about it.

"That's right." She says softly.

"I thought some woman you didn't know carried him to one of the tents, and that's how you two were reunited, no?" Ana asks.

"Yeah, but before that, during the initial impact Buck was with Christopher, he managed to get him up to this firetruck in the middle of everything. It was after he dove back into the water to save someone that a second wave came and swept Christopher right off and they got separated from there." Eddie recalls solemnly.

There had been blood running down the dirty wet bandage on his arm, he'd been soaked to the bone, exhausted and barely standing upright. It wasn't until Christopher had been found that Buck had allowed himself to collapse.

"Oh..." Ana frowns.

Ramon puts a hand over his heart and sighs. "It's a miracle, really."

Ana doesn't mean to say it outloud, but the words comes tumbling out of her mouth without warning. "And you're still friends with him?"

Eddie blinks. "What?"

"I'm sorry, really, it's just--I don't understand." Ana rubs her shoulder self consciously, fully aware of the fact that everyone is looking at her. "Look, Edmundo, you nearly bit my head off when Christopher got a skinned knee under my watch but you're still best friends with the man who lost your son for God only knows how long? It doesn't make any sense to me."

Ana knows how overprotective Eddie is of his son, and in fact, that's one of the reasons she likes him so much; she admires that about him and this? It doesn't track with the man she knows.

Helena wants to open her mouth and she say something in defense of Buck--he's a good man, after all. But she knows better than to get between a couple in an argument, especially given how bias she is towards her future son in law...

Instead, she clears her throat and looks at Christopher, "Honey, how about you help me and Grandpa unpack? I bought a lot of fun things from Texas for you."

Christopher doesn't want to go. His Dad looks upset. Ana looks upset. He wants to stay and help. If Ana met Buck she would understand, Christopher's sure of it. But his grandparents are already leading him down the hall and to the guest room.

Christopher hangs out with his grandparents for a few minutes before fibbing and telling them he needs to use the bathroom. They both offer to help him but he insists that he can do it himself, promising to call out if he needs them.

He sneaks the home phone into the bathroom with him and dials a number he knows by heart at this point. He waits a couple of rings before the call connects.

"Hey, what's up?" Buck's voice comes through the other end. He sounds distracted.

"Bucky? Can you come get me?" He whispers into the phone.

He hears a small commotion and then a stifled 'ow!' and then: "Chris? Are you ok? You're home, right? What's wrong? Where's Eddie?"

"I'm home. I'm ok. But--" there's a knock on the door and it startles Christopher into accidentally hanging up the phone before he can explain the situation in it's entirety.

"It was a tsunami." Eddie sighs, "It wouldn't be fair to hold something like that over his head. And look, you weren't there. You didn't see the look on his face, you don't know how many hours he spent crying out Christopher's name at the top of his lungs, injured and looking nonstop through the rubble for him--"

"Yeah, which he wouldn't have had to do if he hadn't lost him in the first place. It sounds like he was too busy playing hero for strangers to watch your son." Ana folds her arms across her chest. "I don't want to fight. Especially not with your parents here. Honestly, I'm just confused? We don't have to talk about this right now. I can go. I just want to apologize to your parents and Christopher first, before I leave, for," she sighs, embarrassed, "well, for causing a scene. This is not the way I'd pictured meeting your parents."

"You know, if you just met Buck I really think you would--"

A cacophony of knocks at the door make the both of them jump. Ana looks at Eddie. "Were you expecting anyone else?"

"Christopher!? Christopher I'm here, open up!"

Eddie gapes. "...Buck?"

"Did you...call him over?" Ana didn't even see him reach for his phone.

"What? No, of course not." Eddie starts towards the door--the knocking has gotten so boisterous he's pretty sure Buck's about to break down his door--but Ana beats him to it.

At this point Eddie's parents and Christopher are in the hallway wondering what all that racket is.

Ana lets the door swing open, and if she's being entirely honest she's not sure what she's planning on saying to the man who's essentially at the center of her first real argument with her boyfriend, but whatever it was, it goes up in smoke when she takes in the sight of him.

Buck is taller than she'd pictured but that's not what's got her speechless.

He's standing at the doorway, chest heaving, clearly having rushed out of his house, where he was very obviously in the middle of shaving, if the shaving cream still smeared on a third of his face is any indication. He's in sweatpants and a white undershirt that's got little drops of blood on the front from where he must have cut himself while shaving. There's a bright red cut running down the underside of his chin.

"Um." Ana can't do much except stare, wide eyed.

Buck blinks at her, "Uh...Ana?" He suddenly realizes all the people in the house behind her are looking at him in a kind of stupor.

She nods slowly. "Buck?"

Buck nods sheepishly, "Uh... So, I am clearly interrupting something here."

"You came!" Christopher moves past all of the adults in the corridor and throws himself at Buck's legs.

Buck lifts the kid up easily enough, crutches and all, "Yeah, about that," he gently pinches his cheek, eliciting a giggle out of Christopher, "What was that phone call all about? You nearly gave me a heart attack, bud."

Eddie groans. "Christopher, did you call Buck to come all the way over here in the middle of the day?" He walks over and uses the cuff of his shirt sleeve to wipe away the rest of the shaving cream on the side of Buck's face. The look on his face is fond as he does so. "What did this little menace say to get you over here in such a rush?"

Christopher pouts. "I just told him to come get me. I thought if Miss Ana met my Bucky she'd know how come you're still best friends." He grips at Buck's t shirt tightly. "You can't stop being friends, Dad. I love Buck. He's my friend too."

Buck frowns. "Umm..."

Eddie gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's not--it's complicated. I promise to explain everything later. Right now isn't really a great time--"

Ana interrupts hesitantly. "Actually, now is probably good. I need to get home soon, it's getting pretty late, so I should get going." She turns to Helena and Ramon. "It was very nice to meet you both." She scoohches past Buck and Christopher and practically sprints to where she parked her car, aware of the fact that Eddie is calling out her name and only half a step behind her.

It's not until they're several blocks down the street that she swivels around and he nearly topples into her in his haste. "Ana, please, I don't want you to leave like this. I really didn't call him over." He reaches into his back pocket and shows her his phone. "See?"

Ana takes the phone and presses her lips together thinly. "He called you like twenty times on his way over."

Eddie frowns. His phone must have been on silent. It's no wonder Buck rushed over like he did. "He was just worried about Christopher--"

Ana sighs resignedly. "No, I know. It's obvious, how much your best friend cares about your son. I can see why he's still in your life. And I think I can also see why that means you don't really have any room for me in it..."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? Why would you say that?"

Ana looks him in the eye, intent as can be on reading him. Eddie had smiled so warmly, creating such an unintentionally intimate moment when all he'd done was swipe at the other mans face with his sleeve...

"You don't even know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"I think this is something you and Buck need to sort out yourselves. Goodbye Edmundo."

Eddie closes the door behind him as he steps inside, a little heartbroken and a lot confused.

There's noise coming from the kitchen and so Eddie follows it to the source. Ramon is telling Buck about how to sear the perfect steak by the stove while Helena and Christopher set the table.

"Is everything alright?" Helena asks, when she notices him by the entryway.

Eddie nods, lying when he says. "Yeah, all good Mom."

She gives him a knowing look but keeps her mouth shut. "Honey, take Buck here to your room, let him borrow one of your shirts. And maybe a razor?"

Buck chuckles shyly. "It's fine, really. I should probably get going too--"

Ramon shushes him. "Nonsense. Go, go, get changed and get your butt back into this kitchen. Scoot."

Eddie takes Buck by the shoulders and drags him to his room, where he finds a worn gray Henley for him. "Here."

Buck thanks him before stripping out of his white undershirt and throwing on the clean shirt.

Eddie plops himself down on his bed with a sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry about all this mess. And on your one day off, too."

Buck sits down beside him, bumping their shoulders together. "I don't really know what's going on but, are you doing ok?"

"I don't know," Eddie makes a face. "I think I got broken up with today."

Buck cringes. "Shit, I'm sorry, what happened?"

That's a good question. Eddie ponders that a moment. Ana had said it herself: she understood perfectly why Eddie didn't blame Buck for what happened during the tsunami and she had seen first hand how much Buck cares for Christopher for herself today.

So, why?

"She said that there wasn't any room for her in my life?" Eddie scratches the back of his head. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this dating stuff anymore."

"Aw, c'mon man," Buck pats him on the back. "You fall off the bike you gotta get right back on." He turns his body all the way around so that he's facing Eddie fully. "Dude, you're a catch. You're a handsome, badass firefighter, you've got the best kid, and hey--you got me." Buck grins toothily.

Eddie rolls his eyes, though he can't help but smile. "So what I'm hearing here is that I'm stuck with you?"

"Oh yeah, for sure." Buck laughs.

Eddie leans back on his arms and looks up at his best friend, pensive. "Promise?"

Buck extends his pinky and wiggles it in front of Eddie, who smiles as he wraps his pinky around Buck's. "Promise."

.

[eartht137]

DEAREST HEART- Letter One

Okay, For The Better has got me at a standstill. Every time I go to write the next chapter, I get a very "bad" idea and I have to write it in to meld with what I have in mind, but as my birthday is approaching in 2 days and Halloween is quickly approaching, I have developed a very new and delicious idea. I thought up this story in the shower. Hear me out, okay? The blinds that cover the window in my bathroom fell, and I mean fell from the wall, so I had to take a shower in the dark with a candle. Well it gets pretty muggy in my bathroom, as there's not a lot of room, so I opened the window to get some air, well with the wind blowing and the leaves rustling I kinda got that weird feeling that someone was watching me (which I highly doubt). In this story the character/you are a new wife and mom and you've been unmotivated to do normal chores and upkeep due to de pression and anxiety. I kinda wanted to touch on some real topics that I felt may resonate as I've noticed there is a lot of depression and anxieties that have been major high and I just wanted to send a small message that you are seen, you are heard, you are worthy, you are loved. Even if it is in your own world, I'd rather have my own world that I can escape to and have things go my way than keep taking on the pressure of things we deal with everyday. Also this is another Dark Clark Kent. I know, I know, the idea of the man just does something to me. So with that curvies, I present to you Dearest Heart. Okay rant over for the day. Please proceed..........oh yeah MMMMMMmwwwwwwaaahhhhhhh

Dark Clark Kent x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Non Con, somnophilia, masturbation, stalking, mentions of impregnation. Maybe other things too. MINORS DNI!!!

You were getting up and ready for work, since starting your new job, you'd found yourself a bit out of balance. Being a new wife and mom, trying to adjust, you'd found yourself falling in and out of a reel of depression and anxiety. You very rarely had the energy or drive to clean and sometimes your depression got you to a point where you didn't really want to keep up your hygiene. Finally, you'd gotten the burst of life you needed and decided to make use of it while you had the drive. You started keeping up your hygiene as you used to and cleaned your house day by day. You started cherishing more moments with your husband and son. You had noticed the more you took effort within the day, it helped you feel a bit better everyday. One day, you stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air and sunlight. As you were getting ready to head back inside, you saw a letter place neatly on the bars of you security door with small rose. You tilted you head in confusion and looked around. You took the letter, seeing that it had "Dearest Heart' written beautifully across the front. You walked inside while admiring the vintage parchment envelope.

"Baby?" Your husband asked curiously, making you look up and smile as he and your son watched you.

"Well I think the mailman left someone else's mail-again." You sighed tossing the letter down on the table by your door. You went over and spent the remainder of you free time with your husband and son before heading into your office and logging on for work.

On your first break, you rushed out of your office hoping to spend time with your loved ones. You giggled as you watched your husband and son sleep with their mouths wide open on your couch. You were about to step into the bathroom when you got the nagging urge to go back and look at the letter again. You stared at it from across the room a moment before finally giving in to curiosity and grabbing it. You studied it for a moment before your husband adjusting on the couch startled you. You quietly went to the bathroom and examined the letter. Looking at your phone, you realized you didn't have much time, and would just open it to see what it looked like inside. A very hopeful side of you prayed that in your head that it was filled with cash that some good saint just felt in their heart to give, but you knew that was a slim chance. When you opened the letter, you almost gasped, almost like a child feeling as if you if you'd just done something forbidden. The alarm on you phone vibrated and you jumped, the letter dropped from you hands. You laughed a bit at yourself, picked up the letter, tucked it away and went back to work.

One your lunch break, after making something to eat for yourself and your hungry boys, you found yourself practically lured back to the bathroom to find the letter you'd tucked away for later. You opened it and pulled out a very beautifully written letter, but the first line damn near made your heart stop. You read it over and over trying to make sure you weren't seeing things, but there it was in black in, your name. You took a deep breath and continued reading the letter.

My Dearest Y/n,

I promised myself I wouldn't try to interfere in your life, but my heart won't let my stand idly by. I know this is abrupt as you've never seen me in your life, at least you don't remember meeting me, its been so long ago; but I can't keep quiet about this anymore as my love for you has yet to subside. I know it sounds unbelievable, but I swore I'd never lie to you and I am a man of my word. You might be a little worried as to how I know you, where you live-but you'd be shocked at how much I know about you and it'd scare you to know how long I've watched over you. Little love, I've been a bit disappointed in you. You allowed yourself to get to far down and instead of talking it out, you've been bottling everything in. We both know how that ends. You can talk to me if you need to, but I was really disappointed in how you allowed things to get. You weren't getting out of bed, you weren't keeping your hygiene up, and you weren't keeping the house up; on top of that, you haven't been utilizing any of your self-care tools. You didn't leave the house for a month and you cried every night by yourself because you're too stubborn to get out of your own head for two seconds and let the people who love you in. You were also finding a new lie every week to call into to work, that was disappointing darling because you don't have to lie, just tell them you need a day for your health, you don't owe them anymore explanation than that, but I don't want you to lie again. Do you remember those 2 weeks your backside was sore and stinging and you couldn't figure out why? I'm so sorry dear heart but I had to light a fire in you some way, and I just can't allow you to behave in such a way. I also can't stand to see the woman I love not take care of herself. On another note, I do want to tell you how proud of you I have been with how much you love and care for our son. He's growing so big isn't he? Oh darling, I know you think he's your husbands, but I guarantee he is my flesh and blood, why do you think he stares at me so long when he sees my photo pass your screen. His blood is my blood, he knows who he is. I have decided dear heart, to be a bit more active in your life as I have come to realize that my standing by protecting in the shadows is not enough. It will be awhile my love, but one day we will be together. You, Me and our son. I love you both so much, I promise you we will be a family as we should one day. For now I will continue to watch from the distance and protect you when you need me. I will also be there to talk whenever you just want to talk out loud. Before I end this letter, I want to also tell you how proud I am that you've started writing. I love the stories you've been writing about me and I promise to fulfill every one of you desires as soon as the time is right. Only this time, you'll be able to enjoy it as much as I have. I will be writing again, you don't have to reply, but it would be nice. Keep up the good work sweetheart, I love you.

With All My Heart and Soul,

Kal-El

Your heart pounded in your ears, you forgot to breath and tears filled your eyes. You kept trying to convince yourself it was a prank, but the more you tried to deny it, the more you knew it was real. You sat thinking to yourself, when you'd written a story about him, you didn't know anyone named Kal-El. You immediately started walking around your house making sure every window and door was locked. You wanted to tell your husband, but once again the gut feeling told you not to, and you'd realized that your gut was really on point and that just made things scarier.

You finished you lunch break and the rest of that day unable to concentrate on anything. That night while you took a shower, you kept looking through the blinds to see if you'd see someone. On one had you wanted to see if there was someone really there and on the other you felt you'd probably shit yourself if you really saw someone. After a moment or two, you'd finally convinced yourself it was a sick prank and someone in the neighborhood was being an idiot. You laughed a bit and finished up, ready to finally get the sleep you'd been begging for all day. As you laid in bed, every noise made you jump. Every time something or someone would move, you'd go from the precipice of sleep to fully awake. You had been feeling watched for the longest time and you'd just blamed it on being crazy, but now with the letter confirming your nightmare, you really had no idea what to do. Your mind ran and ran until it finally shut itself down and you drifted off to a very peaceful sleep despite everything going on around you.

He sat in the corner of your dark room watching you breath calmly. He wanted so badly to go over and rock you to sleep as he watched you struggle to fall asleep, but he couldn't present himself to you just yet, not until everything was perfect the way we wanted it before he showed himself.

He sat there watching you from the other side of the room knowing that soon you'd throw the covers off of your plush body exposing your luscious curves that he loved feeling in his large hands. His hand stroked himself as he thought back to the first night he took you. You were sleeping so good, you didn't hardly move. His released his hard thick cock from their restraints and pumped himself as he watched your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. He thought back to the first time he tasted your nipples, how hard they got when he kissed and nipped them. How wet you got for him and how he once made you cum from playing with them only. He then thought about how delicious you were. His fist moving faster and rougher down his shaft. He remembered how tight you were when he first fucked you. How hot and juicy you were as he pumped deep into your soft pussy filling you with every inch of him. He wanted to ruin you, and he wished you could see the happiness he felt when you couldn't cum one night from yours or your husbands touches. His hand pumped faster as he remembered fucking you so good one night your orgasm woke you as you came, as disappointed as he was that he couldn't feel you cum around him, he was still proud to have your body so responsive for him. That sent him over the edge and he came hard wanting so badly to empty inside of you. He wanted to see you round with his baby again, but he wanted to allow you the time to fully heal. He used one of your husbands shirts to wipe himself clean, and he gave you a soft peck on the lips, smiling when you turned away.

"I love you so much. I promise things will be right soon. Sleep well dearest heart." He whispered before leaving. He couldn't wait until you found his next letter.

[mosswillow]

Useless Dark!Steve Roger x Reader (part three)

Warnings: 18+ Adult content!, Werewolves, A/B/O, Possessive behavior, Dark, Non con/dub con, Forced marriage, power imbalance, general misogyny, Punishments, smut, spanking, branding.

Summary: “Trying to fight this is useless doll, we’ll always end up right back here.” You’re the bottom of the pack, an Omega, and Steve has chosen you for his mate. 

A/N:  The last chapter had a happier ending. Stop there is that’s what you want. 

---

“You feel so good”

“Shut up and just fuck me already.” you claw at the strangers shirt and he pulls it over his head.

The alcohol you consumed earlier in the evening is still pulsing through your veins and giving you a pleasant buzz. The wolf you’re with now is nothing more than a hookup. You don’t even know his name and frankly don’t care to. It’s easier when you don’t.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a mouthy Omega before.” He quips.

The stranger climbs on top of you and holds you down.

“I kinda like it,” he says.

He slaps you in the face before devouring your lips and you wrap your legs around him. You make long scratches down his back that draw blood and the pain prompts him to work harder and faster. It’s a quick, meaningless fuck, one that only serves to distract you from the ever present anxiety that consumes your life. You lose yourself and for a few mindless minutes you forget about everything. It all comes crashing back though, just like it always does. You get up and gather your clothes.

“Fuck.” He breathes, still lying on the bed.

You roll your eyes and start lacing up your shoes but before you’re able to stand He grabs your arm, pulling you roughly towards him. You look down and realize your mistake. The bandage that usually covers your brand is missing and the mark that tethers you to your pack is visible.

“That’s the Avengers brand.” You watch the recognozation wash across his face.

You try to pull your arm back but he grips you tighter.

“You said your Alpha was dead.”

“Just let me go.” You say shaking your head.

“You know I can’t.”

He pulls you roughly to the bed and pins you're down by the throat, getting close to your face.

“Don’t move Omega.”

You sputter when he lets you go and scoot to the headboard, bringing you knees up to your chest.

He finds his phone and hits speed dial, pacing back and forth in the room as he waits for who you assume is his pack Alpha to answer.

“Uh, hey I have a bit of a problem...”

“...yeah, you know that Omega that went missing from the Avenger pack? Yeah like three

years ago... I found her....”

He sits on the bed briefly before standing and pacing again.

“Well I kinda fucked her.” He grasps his hair in his hand, shaking his head. You can hear the yelling from your place on the bed and almost feel bad for the trouble you’ve gotten him in.

“I swear I didn’t know until after!”

He listens for a few minutes while eyeing you. You look at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes, making yourself look as small as possible. He finally hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket.

“You need to get in the shower before your Alpha shows up. I don’t want you smelling like me.”

You nod and hang your head.

“I’m hungry.”

He sighs. “Ok, I’ll get you something from the vending machine.”

“Thank you so much Alpha,” You say.

You smile and walk to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and count to twenty. You peak out finding the room empty ad sprint out to your car, not stopping for even a second.

“What an idiot.” you say as you drive away.

---

Three years. It’s been almost three wonderfully horrible years. You look at yourself in the mirror of your dirty motel room. Your mind returns to Steve again like it does every all day, every day. You pull your shirt off and turn around looking at your mark. You miss the guy. You miss your parents. You miss Tony and Carol, Sam and Thor. You miss playing with the pups and going to pack nights, roasting smores and running in the woods with your pack mates. You want that again, to feel part of something. They were all right, it’s not in your nature to be rogue. You’re tired of running. You’re constantly on edge, worried about the next time you have to pick up without a word and move to the next town. It’s a struggle every single day not to pick the phone up and call them. Still, you fear going back. You’ll lose all of the freedom you’ve carefully crafted for yourself.  

You get dressed, walk to the closest coffee shop, and pull your laptop out. You’re a freelance writer, getting just enough work to support your lifestyle.

The door opens and you know it’s them, the local pack. This always goes the same way. Three Alphas make their way over to you and sit at your table. It’s always the same arrogant group, you refer to them as Jack, Ass, and Don.  

“I thought she was joking, an Omega, really?” Jack says.

You look up feigning surprise.

“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Ass asks.

“Just passing through,” You smile.

“You smell taken. Where’s your Alpha?” Don says

“He’s dead, it’s just me now.”

“We can help you out little one, why don’t you join our pack?” Jack says.

“Thank you but no.”

Jack taps his fingers on the table. This part is important. You’ll either be running immediately or will have a few weeks until they try to kidnap you.

“I really think you should join us.” Jack says again.

This in your cue. It’s not safe here. You look down and pout.

“You’re really ok with taking care of an Omega like me?” You look up at the Alpha.

“We would be proud to take in a sweet little thing like you.” Ass says, running his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you Alpha.” You say, nuzzling into his hand.

“I’ll be right back.” you stand smiling and grab your laptop.

You keep the smile until you’re out of the shop and at your car. You get in and drive away, not looking back.

After driving for an hour you pull over and look at the map, picking a new spot. You run your hand over the area on the map where your old territory was. It’s not far from where you’re going.

As you get closer to the town you start recognizing things. You pull over your car into a scenic overlook as sudden panic grips you. You cry and tell yourself over and over that it’s ok, you’re ok. You look out at the trees which were once vibrant oranges and reds at the beginning of the season but have slowly lost their leaves.

You were full of hope when you first left. You traveled and saw so many things. You’ve swam in lakes and hiked countless trails. You’ve met wolves from everywhere. It’s starting to feel empty now. You’ve never found anything that’s satisfied you for more than a few minutes. Your mind craves adventure and freedom but your soul craves something more. It craves your family. It craves Steve.

You pull yourself together and keep driving until you reach your destination. The host asks your name for the room and you make a mistake, a purposeful mistake. You tell them your real name.

You arrive at your room and don’t bother unpacking. You’ll wait the night and leave tomorrow if he doesn’t come. You can’t quite bring yourself to go back to him but you can do this. A little breadcrumb. You don’t know if you actually want him to come or not. You know he’ll hurt you just like he used to. You know you’ll be forced to submit, that this life you’ve created will become a distant memory. There won’t ever be another chance to escape. But at least you won’t have the anxiety anymore. At least you won’t live looking over your shoulder. You can’t do that anymore and giving your real name was part of that. You won’t hide. You’ve always known you would have to face your past eventually and you feel as ready now as you’ll ever be. He’ll come, you’re sure he will, and he’ll be mad. You prepare yourself mentally for a fight.

You don’t sleep.

You lie in bed and look at the ceiling for hours before it happens.

A loud knock.

You stand and take weak steps to the door, stalling for a few moments with your hand on the knob before opening it.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He pushes his way into the room and slams you down to the floor. You kick and struggle as he fits a tracker to your ankle. He exhales after placing it and grabs your head, planting a violent kiss on your lips. You pull away.

“Steve.”

“You don’t speak.”

He tears your shirt in half and deposits it on the floor.

“I can smell other wolves on you,” He growls

You bite your lip.

His mouth finds your mark and he bites down, marking you again.

He backs away and you glare at him. Every bit of resentment comes back. You’re not going to roll over for him so quickly. You pull your arm back and punch him in the face. He stumbles and brings his hand up to his bloody nose.

He grabs hold of you and throws you across the room. You hit the wall and drop to the ground, the breath knocked out of you. You cough and hold your stomach before standing slowly.

“We’ve done this before, you know I’ll go until I can’t anymore.”

“And you know I won’t stop until you’re a bloody mess.”

You run at him again and he tackles you, flipping you over and holding you down with one arm. With the other he tears off your underwear before pulling out his cock out and driving into you.

“You. Left. Me.” he says, thrusting deep into you.

“You pushed me away!” you cry out.

Steve slaps you hard on the ass as he continues to pound you. You feel like your body is in a bubble, only you and Steve exist right now. The feeling of him in you, aggressively claiming you is everything. You cry in relief and frustration. It’s not long before you feel the warmth of his cum fill you. He pulls out and sits back on his knees, panting from the exertion. You crawl away and sit with your back against the wall.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper.

Steve pulls his shirt off and walks over to you. He hands the shirt to you and you put it on, letting the warmth and woodsy smell calm your shaking body. He pulls you into his lap.

“I am too.”

You cry in his arms until your tears eventually disappear and Steve’s heart rate goes down.

“Why keep fighting?” Steve asks

You look up at Steve.

“Why force me?”

Steve thinks for a beat before answering.

“I want you.”

“I want me too.”

You cuddle into Steve and close your eyes. This is the first time your anxiety has calmed in almost three years. He picks you up and carries you to his car, strapping you in before getting your things. You look out the window at the woods and reach down to your ankle, feeling the tracker.

You drive in uncomfortable silence for the entire ride. Steve reaches his home and turns the car off.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Steve ignores you. He gets out and goes around the car, opening your door. You tentatively get out and start walking with Steve to his house. The pack Alphas are waiting on the porch.

One by one each Alpha runs to you and pulls you into a big hug.

You all go inside and Steve makes a pot of coffee, handing you a mug. Thor sits beside you on the couch and puts his arm around you. Everyone is quiet and your anxiety starts building.

Tony sits in front of you and holds your hand.

“We’re happy you’re back.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Oh no, don’t think we’re not also pissed.”

You sink into the couch.

“This.” he points to the tracker on your ankle. “Will never come off.”

your mind starts whirling with ideas to remove it.

“Hey.” He snaps in front of your face.

“It can’t come off, trust me.”

You nod.

“Is the… is the tracker it or is there another punishment?” you ask.

The Alphas give you a sad look and Tony shakes his head.

“What else are you going to do?” you say barely above a whisper.

Carol comes and hugs you, shushing you.

“It’s going to be ok, we just want what’s best for you.”

They stay for the day, talking and asking questions about the years you were gone. Your anxiety starts growing the longer they’re there and they can all tell. The sun starts to go down and they each give you a hug and say their goodbyes.

Steve pours himself a glass of whiskey and takes a sip.

“Go to bed doll.”

You walk to your room and pull out the top drawer where you kept pajamas. You pick up the dark green chemise and hold it in your hands, feeling the soft fabric. Steve comes in and takes it out of your hands, slipping it over your head.

“Did any of it actually make you happy?”

“In some ways.”

He sweeps you up and carries you to the bed, climbing in after you and placing his arm over your body protectively.

---

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the absence of Steve's warm body. Then you notice the handcuff. You look around and see Steve standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You start shaking your head and pull your arm against the cuff.

“Steve.” you whimper.

He turns away and closes the door.

It takes a full twenty four hours for you to start breaking down. The panic comes and goes and your wrist becomes covered in blood and bruises. After two days you give up any hope. This is where you die. You close your eyes and wait.

Steve unlocks your hand and gently pulls you up to a sitting position. He holds a sports drink to your lips and helps you take small sips. You can’t stop shaking, your body weak from lack of nutrients. Steve takes the handcuffs to the closet and you hear beeping and the sound of a safe opening and closing. You take small sips of the drink while Steve fills a bath. He undresses you and carries you to the tub, getting in behind you and carefully cleaning you.

“It’s ok i’m here now doll, you’re ok.” He says, kissing your shoulder. You stare ahead, not able to respond.

After the bath he covers you with a towel and brings you out to the living room.

He leaves you on the couch and walks to the kitchen. You eye a small statue next to you and pick it up. You hold it in your hands, feeling the weight and eyeing a sharp point on one end.  Steve comes back with a glass of water and a piece of toast. He crouches in front of you making eye contact and waiting. You grip the statue and close your eyes then slowly put it back where it goes. You drop your head to one side baring your neck. Steve pulls the towel down and runs his hand over your mark. He takes a seat next to you and guides you down so your head is in his lap.

“You were always going to end up here.”

He terrifies you. He forced you to mate with him, almost beat you to death. controlled everything about your life. He left you for who knows how long chained to a bed until you broke into a thousand pieces, forcing you to rely on him to glue you back together.

He smells like home though. He’s like a lighthouse, guiding you through a storm. Always there no matter what you do or where you run. You can’t escape him.

“I know.”

[jawabear]

First date (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: This was suggested/requested by the wonderful @lunaserenade I hope this is what you had in mind, I think I went off track a little as it’s a bit long. But I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay Safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, Marcus talks to himself, mentions of eating (idk if that counts as a warning), be nice to Marcus, he tries his best, awkwardness, fluff, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Marcus finally has the chance for a real date. Surely there’s nothing that could go wrong...right?

Marcus let out a deep breath as he gripped the steering wheel of his car trying to calm himself down. “You got this Marcus. You got this” he whispered to himself “you’ve done it before. And it’s (Y/N). You got this. You’re just going to go in there and be yourself. Just relax”

He loosened his shoulders by shaking himself while taking in deep breaths and letting them out again. “You can do this Marcus”

“Uh...Dad?” Missy said from beside him with a confused but also amused look. He had completely forgot his daughter was sat in the passenger seat.

“God, I’m sorry kiddo” he said, his head falling onto the steering wheel. “I’m freaking out”

“Why? That was such a good pep talk” she teased.

“Ha ha, very funny” Marcus said turning his head to look at Missy. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Why do you keep asking me that? I want you to be happy Dad. And (Y/N) does make you happy” Missy smiled as she patted her dads shoulder. “But you do have to sort yourself out. You can go back in this state”

Marcus sat up and ran his hands over his face “well, when you haven’t been on a date in god knows how many years, it’s not exactly easy to be calm. Especially when it’s with a girl you really like” he paused for a moment and gave a sharp look to his daughter “not that you would know anything about dating right?”

“N-No! Of course not Dad. You think I’m interested in people like that?” She laugh, a little nervously as he looked away from him making Marcus a little suspicious. “But what you were saying was right. Just be yourself. That’s what (Y/N) likes. She likes you”

Marcus gave Missy a gentle look before kissing her cheek “I love you Missy” he smiled.

“Yeah, I love you too Dad” she said sounding a little unimpressed. She grabbed her bag and opened the car door.

“I’ll be round lunchtime tomorrow to get you. Be good okay?”

“Always Dad. Have fun tonight okay? You deserve it” she then shut the car door and skipped off happily to his mums house.

Marcus sat there for a little while longer before working up the courage to start the car and drive back to his house. He glanced at the clock every five seconds. She was coming at 7 and it was 6:32. He had time but he wish he didn’t. He wanted her to arrive sooner so he could get it over with.

Not that he wanted it to end, but he wanted it to hurry up and get going so that he didn’t feel so scared any more.

He and (Y/N) had technically been dating for about three months, but he had liked her for a little longer than that. They had always been great friends but Marcus had always felt a little something more for her.

For the first year after his wife died, he didn’t think about relationships. He wanted to be there for Missy who was surprisingly mature about the whole situation, but of course she was still absolutely devastated by her mother’s death. Missy had always noticed the way he looked at (Y/N), and the way (Y/N) looked at him. It was actually her who convinced him to get back out there and to ask her out.

So they had been dating for three months, but he had never taken her on a date. They were both extremely busy and their schedules were constantly conflicting. But now they had finally settled in a day to have their first actual date. But he wouldn’t really class it as a proper date. He was just going to be attempting to cook her a fancy dinner but he didn’t hold much hope that it would be successful. When he told her that was his plan, she smiled the brightest smile she ever had and told him she was overjoyed at the idea.

Finally he got home and checked his watch. 6:47. He still had a little time. He went around the house to make it look perfect even though she knew what it looked like anyway. She had been there enough times when it was a mess so maybe she would be impressed with his effort to make it look nice.

He then came to a sudden realisation that he was yet to get changed. So he legged it upstairs init his bedroom where he pulled out his outfit. He didn’t really know what to wear. He didn’t want to dress alarmingly smartly, but he didn’t want to dress too casual. He had told her to dress casual but their casuals could be two very different things.

So he pulled out his best plaid shirt, black jeans and fancy shoes, decided it was both casual and smart, and comfortable, and him. He then spend the next ten minuets in front of his bathroom mirror trying to fix his hair so that it didn’t look like he had just woken up, but also make it so it wasn’t flattened down. Who would’ve thought that dating was so difficult to get right.

Then the door bell rang.

He looked at his watch and it was bang on 7pm. Of course she would be right on time.

He began to panic. His hands began to sweat. He grabbed his most expensive cologne, one he rarely used but really liked, and spray two pumps on himself before running down stairs. He was second guessing his outfit choice. He was second guessing everything.

He began thinking that he couldn’t go through with it. He was too scared. But she was stood outside his door. He couldn’t leave her out there, it was getting colder as they got into the winter months of the year.

He took some deep breaths “you got this Marcus” he told himself again. He walked to the door and pulled it open.

When his eyes fell on her, all of his worries and anxieties were washed away from him. She looked beautiful. And they were somewhat matching which was kind of awkward but nice because it meant he had made the right outfit choice. Under her long black jacket, she wore a red plaid shirt but under that a plain white shirt, black leggings and black ankle boots.

“Hi Marcus” she smiled with a small wave.

“H-Hi (Y/N)” He said, his eyes looking her up and down. “You look beautiful”

“You look very nice too” she complimented.

“Thank you” He stepped to the side to allow her inside. She walked past him and allowed him to close the door.

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek making him smile before he lead her into the kitchen where everything was perfectly set up.

He had put his best table cloth over the wooden table and set a candle in the centre along with rose petals. “Marcus” she was a little lost for words as she looked upon his efforts.

“Do you like it?” He asked quietly as he came round to stand in front of her.

“Marcus it’s beautiful” she smiled before taking his face between her hands and kissing his lips gently. He smiled into the kiss and allowed himself to relax a little. Although he was still a little sceptical about his cooking.

He pulled away from her and lead her to the table and pulled out her chair for her. She smiled graciously and sat down.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked her as he wrung his hands together. “I’ve got wine, whiskey, or something softer like lemonade if you’d prefer”

“Can I have a glass of lemonade?” She asked.

“Of course” he rushed to the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the cupboard and the bottle of drink out of the fridge. He poured her a glass and brought it over to her “there you go”

“Thank you sir” she smiled to him.

“So...I’m going to cook. So you just sit there” he told her.

“Do you want any help?” She asked.

“No. I’ll be fine” his voice wasn’t convincing as he looked between her and the kitchen that was now suddenly the scariest place on earth. He’d much rather go back out into the world and fight evil then have to attempt to cook her dinner. “I’ll be fine. You stay there”

(Y/N) watched as she began messing around in the kitchen. She would occasionally ask him if he needed any help, to which he would always reply no, but he did need help. His nerves were getting the better of him and he couldn’t focus on what he was doing.

He kept muttering to himself as he looked between the pan and his phone to make sure he was doing it right. (Y/N) was tempted to get up and take over but she didn’t want to activate him any more than he already was. But what she could tell, the dish he was making wasn’t all that complicated. It was some kind of pasta. Perhaps a sort of carbonara of some sort.

She turned away from watching him, it was getting too much. She desperately wanted to help him or at least tell him not to worry, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. So she pulled out her phone and tried to pass the time using that, but his muttering could still be heard and it made her feel awful.

Eventually though, he had finished cooking and plated it up. He didn’t look very convinced in his efforts as he set her plate down in front of her. It didn’t look all that bad actually. But it smelt a bit off. But it was a hard recipe to master, she used to make it all the time which is why she thought it was a simple dish. Clearly Marcus did not agree.

“Thank you Marcus” she smiled as she picked up her fork and twirled it within the pasta. He did the same.

At the same time they took a bite of the food and...well it was awful. But she really didn’t want to say that so she swallowed it down and tried not to react to the strange taste. Perhaps the cheese or whatever he used had gone off and that’s what was causing the taste.

Marcus wasn’t so good at hiding his reaction. But it was his cooking after all so it wasn’t like he was offending anyone, only himself.

He dropped his fork to the plate and looked at her, it was clear she wasn’t enjoying it but she was too nice to say so. “Well this is disgusting” he told her. He saw her face change as she somehow managed to swallow down another bite.

“I mean...I didn’t like to say” she said quietly as she set her fork down as took sip of her drink.

“You should’ve (Y/N)” he laughed as he took her plate and walked back into the kitchen placing the two plates beside the sink before he lent again she counter making her worry. She stood and walked over to him. His head was hung low.

Her hand rested on his back feeling his tense muscles through his shirt. “Marcus” she said quietly “what’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry (Y/N)” he apologised “I just wanted to make our first proper date perfect and I ruined it...”

She laughed softly and slipped her arms around him, hugging him from the side “you didn’t ruin it, silly. It was perfect”

“But...I messed up the food...”

“That was one small part. It doesn’t matter. The evening so far had been one of the best I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been able to spend it with you. The whole night, just me and you. That’s all I could ask for” she told him.

He lifted his head and looked at her, seeing her smiling at him. “Really?”

“Really” she said with a nod “Marcus, you are the kindest man alive. And I can see that you have put so much effort into this date and I really appreciate that. But you didn’t need to. It didn’t need to be fancy like this. Any night alone with you would be perfect”

He managed a smile as she wrapped his own arms around her. For a while they just stayed like that. He felt a lot better being in her arms. But then he spoke again, he had to address the food issue.

“Should we just order a pizza?” He asked.

She chuckled quietly and looked up at him “you read my mind” she said before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

27/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88