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siddyyyyyyyy · 4 months ago

Text

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.6k

summary: child soldier gets into task force 141 part TWO, things are getting a bit funny; first part, third part

warnings: description of scars, some violance (combat training)

a/n: I'm actually pretty shocked of how well this fic is going, I hope you're all enjoying this so far, and the plot's is going to intesify a bit the longer this goes on.... and I'm talking too much. Have fun!

Waking up to the familiar alarm is hard enough, but eventually making yourself ready for the first training together is harder. You put on your new uniform and make yourself look more presentable, only to stop midway by the mirror. Your eyes move instinctivley towards your neck. There's no material covering your neck area, making you slightly anxious. There is a long scar across your neck; the scar tissue white and stands out a bit. You feel your deep scar across your neck that goes horizontally through your skin with a slight curve up to your jaw. Hopefully no one will notice. But how is it possible to ignore such thing? There will be questions, there will be eyes on you all the time, there will definitely be snarky comments, and... deep breath in and out. It's no one's business, and you don't owe an explanation to anyone anyway.

Picking up your last courage for today, you walk out of your bunk to the training hall. Walking in, you see a few other soldiers training together, and also Price seemingly waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. He notices you almost immediately and waves you over to him.

»Good morning. Sleep well?«

You shrug, answering him. »Yeah, good enough.«

»Great, you'll need it today.« Perfect, so he planned something tough for today, that's for sure. Shortly after, Ghost and Soap arrive into the hall, as well as Gaz, who seems to be in a good mood. Price claps once, having the attention of everyone on him. He announces the morning stretch you'll be doing first and the next exercise has got to be some teamwork exercise already.

The supposed 'morning stretch' was nothing short of relaxing, but lucky enough you're flexible and got along just fine. Afterwards, the first exercise begins, and as Price explains it, the more you start to think he can't be serious.

»Trust falls?« Soap asks again, also not having expected this exercise to be the first one. Usually, they never do something like this together since they already trust each other with their lives. Price nods, hands on his hips and dead serious. »Who wants to start?«

You're stiff, silently looking around while hoping you won't get picked out. Luckily, Gaz raises his hand slightly and volunteers as first for the trust falls. The captain smiles and nods once more, letting him pick a person to fall against. He chose Soap as some might've expected, and they do it naturally. Nothing bad happens, they trust each other, and one catches the other. They repeat it after switching also, nothing spectacular happening. You watch silently, arms crossed and with nothing to do. It's almost amusing to watch these buffed military guys do silly things, like trust falls. Next was Ghost and Soap, then Price and Gaz with the others. It's awkward now for you since you're the last one, having to just fall back and trust the other to catch you. How can you not feel at least a little awkward while doing it?

»C'mon, it's fun. Just trust us.« Soap encourages you before you could say anything in the first place and already opens his arms for you. There's really nothing you can do but accept your fate and do the trust fall, knowing you have no choice but to trust them all as your teammates. You turn your back to him with a small sigh and close your eyes before falling back, feeling how he indeed catches you right up and lets you sink down a little more. He feels strong and big against your back, not that you doubted it. Soap leans you back up, and you stand up straight again. You hate to admit it but it was fun. Maybe you'd do it again... oh, you need to do it again. Trust falls with everyone, remember?

Price wants to be the next one to do it with you, an almost loving smile across his lips and open arms as he steps up to you. You do the same as before and fall, feeling how he catches you the same and lets you stand right back up afterwards. He pats your shoulder lightly and steps away, looking to the others to see who wants to go next.

»Me next.« Gaz states with a raised hand, standing at the same pose as the other two before. You can't help but crack a small, tiny smile at that before turning back around and falling back, trusting them all by now. The last one should be Ghost, and to be honest, it's somehow scary. Maybe it's his height or his aura, but there's no choice but to trust him. Eventually, you fall, back and he catches you just the same as the others, feeling as if he's more careful with you for whatever reason. But that could be just your mind hallucinating at this point.

The next station for this training session is more serious and requires more technique and skill. You're glad, it's something you're good at and won't be awkward to complete.

Knife melee. With fake combat knives. Each gets a combat knife to fight with and a randomly assigned partner. You get to be paired up with Gaz, and he shoots you a soft smile before standing in front of you to test out your true skills. Price is mostly there to watch over everyone and lead the practice, standing not too far off the big mat.

»You go first, I'll try to go easy too.« Gaz tells you with a small nod, waiting for you to attack and see how you'll do. Or maybe he's just too afraid to hurt you, knowing how young you are.

»Okay.« You think for a split second before going straight in, grabbing his right wrist with your left hand, pushing it out while moving the blade close to his neck. Gaz is briefly surprised at your attack, especially with how you went straight at him. But he's strong enough to bend his right wrist slightly and wrap his left arm over to grab his knife with his non-dominant hand. You didn't expect this to happen, being spooked for a moment by the sudden action of him wrapping his arm over you just so he has his knife in his free hand. He presses his knife against your stomach just enough for it to be touching your shirt and is about to swipe your feet off the ground.

You back up, trying to kick off the blade off his hand quickly, in which you fail. You don't want to hurt him, but you also know that it's just training and minor injuries are normal. You know it from the camp, but this feels different. You have... more respect for them. Getting back to reality, you're the one who sweeps his feet off the ground, kneeling over him and pressing your knee against his chest with your knife against his throat once more but not pressing onto him.

»Fine- you win.« He gives up and throws his hands up in defence, looking to you impressed. You get off him and give him a hand to stand back up, feeling like he went too soft on you on purpose.

»Was that all you had?« You ask before being able to think about your words longer, not meaning to sound rude. »What? Of course not. Told you I was going easy on you.« He shrugs with a small chuckle, dusting his pants off quickly before standing straight.

»Want me to attack first?«

»Fine-«

He's quick to land a kick to the side of your thigh, making you wince lightly, but you quickly regain your focus and step out of his way. You quickly kick him into his side instead, knocking out his breath briefly. Gaz realises how strong you actually are and decides to go harder on you. There's a sharp pain on your ribs before you feel the dull slice from his fake combat knife against your arm. You give him a rather irritated look before going in once more, slicing across his chest with your own fake knife before kicking him into his chest. He stumbles back, once more out of breath. It's your chance to get close to him and strike another attack, so you do just that. You step closer to him quickly and jab a few more slices against his ribs before kicking his legs in. He's on the ground and probably more out of breath than you. Gaz looks up to you and catches his breath before standing back up, not giving up yet.

»Where'd you learn that?« He questions almost confusedly and simultaneously thinks of another approach at you for his next attack. You shrug, not giving him an answer as you're studying his stance. He's about to cage you in, that's for sure, with his wide stance. That's got to be the most annoying technique for you, not liking how it feels like to be trapped or pinned by anyone. Moving your eyes back at his, you waste no time to kick against him once more, but he catches it.

He has your ankle in his hand and twists it enough for you to lose balance and fall to the ground. You huff and try to get back up quickly, but he's fast, kicking your knife out of your wrist.

Price watches you both fight, and he must admit you're quite strong. Beating Gaz twice? That's already impressive for him. He watches as you manage to fight yourself out of his pin, having him on the ground instead. You both fight like siblings at this point, at least that's how Price views it. He sees that Gaz is still trying to be gentle with you even though he doesn't need to. You're highly trained and fast, thinking logically as well. Meanwhile, Soap gets his ass beat by Ghost since he's trying to watch you fight but gets awfully distracted that way.

Price keeps most of his attention on you both anyway, being curious about how much longer Gaz will be gentle with you before being sick of losing every time. After losing for the fifth time, Gaz stops fighting for a moment.

»Wanna catch a break?«

»If you say so.« You agree and shrug lightly, having a light coat of sweat but being nowhere near done. You're still full of energy but also can't wait to sleep tonight.

»So, how do you like it on the base so far?« He asks, his tone friendly and voice smooth. His eyes are on you, hands on his hips.

»Yeah, it's... fine. Like a base.« There's just no way you can answer otherwise, not sure of how to answer it anyway. You press your lips together lightly, unsure of how to continue. Gaz is rather talkative, so you're grateful for that as he goes on, seemingly wanting to get to know you better.

»You should check out the mess hall too, the food‘s a bit plain, but it's cosy in there.« That's great information however, you do not know how to respond to that.

»Cool.« With a light nod and a more or less forced smile, glancing away shortly after. Gaz notices that you don't seem to talk much, having a similarity with Ghost on that. He accepts it however, and stretches his arms before suggesting another round which, you also agree on.

You're sweating way more now after the training session ended, Price saying that it's time to have lunch and just have a normal day afterwards. The sun is fully up, it's a warm day outside for once and there are no annoying people around you. Until Soap is approaching you on the way out from the training hall.

»Wanna eat lunch all together? It won't be boring, promise.« He suggests with a friendly smile and waits for your answer, coming off more excited than you.

»Uh, yeah. Where's the mess hall again?« You ask sheepishly since you have no clue how this building is laid out, let alone know where the exit is again. »Oh, you haven't been shown around, eh? Well, I'll just show ye around after lunch. The mess hall's on the first floor, 's pretty easy to find.«

Soap explains to you shortly, having faith in you that you won't get lost on your own. You simply nod back in response and make a mental note of where the mess hall should be, retreating back into your own bunk after taking a shower.

You're hesitant at first, having considered just skipping lunch, but you can't let the others hang. So, you make your way to the mess hall shortly after putting on new clothes, making sure to cover your neck once more. Stopping mid-change, you realise something. No one made comments or even looked at your scar earlier. You expected the total opposite, now trying to remember any moment that was close to some of your expectations, but there were none. Maybe, just maybe, they don't care. Not in the rude way, but in a way that they won't judge you. Well, considering the small but slightly more visible scar on Soap‘s chin, there's a chance they just don't want to pick on you with stuff they also have. Brushing away those thoughts, you enter the mess hall and are shortly after greeted with Soap. He stands out from the crowd with the way he waves at you, seeming to be excited to show you around or just have an addition like you on the team.

»Hungry? I don't know about you, but I am.«

His ways of starting a conversation with you are always a little strange. The way he is more energetic around you and is being overly friendly while trying to use 'modern slang' is slightly off-putting.

Ghost would be greater company at this point. You don't say anything, too caught up in the large hall and all the people around that are patiently getting their food for themselves.

»Well, there's where the food is, the trays and the utensils. Alrighty?«

»Alright.« You answer slightly unsure and look to where everyone is picking up their food, seeing that it won't be too difficult. Picking up a tray for yourself, a plate, and a few utensils, you make your way to the buffet. There's an option between a vegetarian meal that looks mostly... bland and another meal that doesn't look too bad. Soap is before you and loads his plate with the second option, grabbing a glass of water afterwards. You do the same, considering the vegetarian food seems too dry to even look at. Sitting down at a free table where Gaz is already seated, shooting a friendly smile your way.

His teammate sits down beside him and you on the opposite of them, taking a last look around the huge mess hall.

»How was the training for ye today?« Soap starts again while stuffing a bite into his mouth, ready to listen to whatever response you'll give.

»It was fine. Easier than at my camp.« Soap quirks his brow at you, asking further. »Easier? What'd you do at your camp, then?«

Ah, there it is. Finally, the burning question that seemed to have been on their minds since the day you arrived, even though they won't admit it verbally.

»Well, any kinds of things. We had a big variety and did everything a little every day.« You explain calmly, leaving out a lot of things for now and just giving out useful and light stuff. Gaz glances at you while eating his own meal, listening quietly to the conversation between you two.

»Everythin'? What was everythin'?«

God, he's giving you no chance to eat right now, is he? »Combat, shooting, underwater training, hostage saving, medical training... oh, and our stamina.« He nearly chokes on his food while you finally take your first bite, thinking it tastes quite good. For military food, it's actually quite good, it tastes fresh and is warm- »Everyday? Every focking day?«

»Language, McTavish...« A familiar, rough voice is heard from behind him, and he quickly glances back to see his Captain. Price takes a seat beside you, facing the two other teammates.

»Sorry, did you hear what she just said? That's like- that's... that should be illegal-«

»I know, Soap.«

He interrupts him again, giving him a hard look. He's either trying to stop him from saying something that could hurt you or is just fed up for some other reason.

»I'm glad we don't have such hard training here. That's it.« Soap realises that he may have gotten too far with his reaction and tries to be more calm and himself from now on. The problem is now that it's awkward because no one talks for a solid minute or two.

»Where is Ghost?« You speak up for the first time by yourself, not able to listen to the silence around the table any longer. Price answers your question calmly, seeing no reason to keep that from you.

»He eats alone, mostly. Or does some paperwork right now.« So, no one really knows what he's doing at breaks. That's something you could have expected from someone like him.

»Do you think his mask looks cool?« Gaz chimes in and looks at you almost amused, waiting for your answer. Soaps eyes also study you now, waiting curiously on your answer. Unsure of what to say, you answer them briefly.

»I mean, it's not bad.« Gaz shoots his teammate a quick look with a small nod, telling him something without saying anything. Soap sulks a little about your response, having hoped you'd say something more positive.

»Told you...« It's very quiet from Gaz and non-threatening, but you still heard it and now feel curious about what these two jokesters are talking about. Price continues to eat his own meal as he's not fascinated by their usual antics, seeing no reason to dig deeper and find out what they're on. That is until Soap notices your confused stare and wants to clear the confusion.

»We had a bet. I thought you'd find Ghost‘s mask cool, but wha'ever.« He shrugs and now has to pay five pounds to Gaz, having officially lost the bet. You can't help it but be amused by it, seeing how they're all trying to understand you, but know absolutely nothing about you but your age and name. They probably think you're like most teenagers, thinking in stereotypes, and you choose to just watch them trying to figure you out.

»He was actually quite scary at first.« You mumble, carefully trying out talking more to them and letting them get to know you more. It's something new for you to be able to be so open and casual with new people that are much older than you. Even though Soap is about ten years older than you, it still seems a lot. It's a whole decade, either way.

»Well, yeah, Ghost has his way to scare people off. But don't take it personally, he's got a good soul.« You glance at Price saying that, reassuring you about Ghost.

What kind of name is that anyway?

»Hm, depends on how you see it. He's only friendly to people he likes. Like a cat.« Gaz shrugs, adding his opinion on Ghost. You're all lucky he's not there with you right now, considering that he would shoot death glares at everyone. You listen to them, being invested in their opinions and views on him since you know nothing about him. »But he doesn't scratch us. So, that's good.« Price jokes, probably still trying to reassure you mostly and not let you get spooked. Eventually, after some more exchanges, Soap is standing up and wants to finally show you around the base. You accept and follow him out, curious to see the whole base and not get lost from now on. He walks through the building and shows you the important parts first: showers and bunks, training rooms and halls, shooting range, going on about the storage rooms, and eventually making your way outside the base. There's a small park attached to the base, great for taking small walks.

»Wanna go for a round?«

»I don't see why not.« You can't help it but still want to add that respective 'sir' at the end of a sentence. It feels like disrespecting him, but they made it clear how open and friendly you can talk to them way earlier.

Walking besides Soap is somehow calming, not needing to talk much when he does most of the talking. »You handled the surprise attack well, yesterday. Just try to warn us before firing, though.« You nod and look away slightly embarrassed, knowing you forgot to give them a sign before doing something like that.

»Sorry, thought too quick.« »'S fine, I'm actually impressed. Were ye taught that back in yer camp?« Soap can't help but be curious and ask questions, making sure to be careful with his wording.

»Yes, kind of. It's always smarter to be meaner to the enemies, so they don't have a chance.« Soap shrugs lightly, thinking about that statement. »Well, yeah... but aggressive approach is not always the best, you know?« He eyes you for a moment, continuing to walk beside you through the small park.

»It really depends on the situation and enemy, there.« You reply back after a second of considering his words, not realising that you once again impressed him.

a/n: came out a bit floppy, but the next part will most likely be better, pwomise :33

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swoofllia · 3 months ago

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THE PROJECT.

-ˋˏ✄┈ #Vance Hopper x Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ PAIRING/PAIRINGS : Vance Hopper x Fem! Reader.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ FORMAT : Series.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SUMMARY OF CHAPTER : Y/N and Vance were partnered up for a project. Obviously, both of them did not want to be together because of an incident that happened two summers ago. But were there any other choices? And what other surprise would await Y/N later on the day?

♺ TW ! : Mentions of fighting, cuss words, bruises, wounds, brusies, scars, blood, threats, abuse, kidnappings, and more.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♺ AUTHORS NOTE ! : I just want to say that English is not my first language and that there is a scene (where Y/N is complaining to her best friend) inspired from a Vance H. fic called Pinball, Hair, and Detention by ellemfaoh! Please go check it out. It's so good! Also, there will be some 70s slang in the fic, so I will give you the meaning of it down below!

↓

𓍯 Hairy eyeball - If someone were to give you the hairy eyeball, it would mean they're shooting you a nasty or menacing stare.

Enjoy your stay ! :)

CHAPTER I - What A Day.

NORTH DENVER - 1977.05.27.

"And... Vance and Y/N! You two will be the last assigned pair for this upcoming project." Said, Mr. Hall. You froze at the news. You hated Vance. Well.. Not exactly hate. It was more of a dislike type of way. From your side, at least. Long story short, when you moved to town before first grade, you both became friends. But because of an incident two summers ago that everyone in the school knew about, everything went upside down. Though the feeling was mutual. Vance felt the same way about you, too.

Now you are just a girl who loves painting, writing, and reading poetry, has betrayal trauma, while some idiotic kids at school try to pester you and whatnot. You have tried to ignore them, but could you ignore an annoying sound like their voices? No.

Needless to say, both of the teenagers wanted to be switched with someone else. Even if it's with the most stupid kid in this class. Seriously.

"If you have any questions, ask the-"

"I'm sorry for interrupting, sir, but is there any chance that I can work alone? I just feel like I'll be better on my own." Y/N questioned, raising her hand slightly to attract the teacher's attention. Mr. Hall's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you.

"If anyone works alone, it will be an automatic fail. If you want an explanation, I won't give it to you, because i don't owe you one." Mr. Hall stated flatly as you groaned quietly in annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Now, I want everybody to sit next to their assigned partner. Remember, I will check if everybody is sat where they have to be, if not there will be consequences."

Cringing quietly at that last part, you shifted uncomfortably as you glanced around the room to see if anybody reacted the same way. Some of them did, but most didn't. Probably because they were so used to Mr. Hall and his weird ways of threatening. There was some rumor tha-

"Move, fat ass." Jumping slightly in your seat, you were a bit startled. As you looked up at the figure that insulted you and brought you out of your mind, you couldn't really recognize who it was. Was she one of the girls that liked Vance. Carol, maybe? You grimaced. Did you have to sit next to him? To Vance Hopper? That's probably why she looked like there was steam coming out of her ears. Carol still thinks that you and Vance are friends or something, even though the whole school knows you aren't.

"Maybe when you calm your balls down a bit, I will move you snot-flicking doofus." You spat out. Getting up, she threw you a nasty glare. You ignored her and went to sit where Vance was. Great. When you went to his desk, you dropped your bag on your side and sat down, giving the dirty-blond a quick glance. Just as Vance was about to say something to you (probably something spiteful) , Mr. Hall started checking as he promised, and after, he announced. "As you all know, yesterday we wrote down some very important notes about World War 1 and World War 2. Well, almost everyone." paused Mr. Hall, giving Vance a quick look of disapproval before continuing. Vance, in response, sneered. "All of you will have one to two weeks to do this project. Before you start it, I want you guys to write down some more notes, as the project's prompt will be about WW1 and WW2." Then your mind completely dozed off somewhere else. The prompt was all you needed. You would just write down the notes that were needed and zone out again.

As some minutes ticked off, you felt a sharp pain towards your leg. You quietly hissed out as you looked beneath the desk and saw Vance's leg, ready to attack again. You shot a glare towards Vance. All he did was smirk. Narrowing your eyes, you moved your legs far away as you possibly could. After a while, a thump on your leg was heard, and you bit your tongue just so you don't yelp out from pain. Looking up at the wall in front, you checked the time. Your eyebrows furrowed for a second before going to an unexplainable expression. 15 more minutes. You sighed in defeat, leaning your head on your palm. It won't be that bad. Right? It was just 15 minutes.

WRONG.

"You don't understand, Bugs! It hurt like a hundred hits with a belt!" You stated while she raised an eyebrow, silently questioning your words. "Okay, okay, I'm exaggerating, but still! He's the worst! And just as I thought he was gonna stop, he started tugging and pulling on my hair!" You ranted to your best friend. Exchanging the books in your hands with the ones in the locker, you slammed it shut. As you leaned against it, you turned towards your her - Maya. She was obviously trying to hold her laughter. When you started squinting your eyes and crossing your arms is when she burst out laughing. After a second, you chimed in. The both of you got weird stares from some other kids, or whatever. Who cares, tho? You were only having fun with one of the most normal girls in school.

When you were over with the giggling session, she spoke. "Maybe our little Vancey has a little crush on you!" teased Maya. "Oh yes, I hope Vance likes me! I really do!" You said with a fake smile and a high-pitched voice, making a face afterwards. Maya started laughing again, but you just stood there watching her. You rolled your eyes and sighed as she laughed. "If a boy likes you, he shouldn't be tugging or kicking your leg! Not bullying the person you like is literally the bare minimum!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air in anger.

"True, true. But still, imagine if he actually does."

"Are you trying to get on my nerves today?" You grumbled out, looking sideways at her. She shrugged as the bell rang. "Maybe, but luckily we have English together. You know what that means..." She exclaimed, changing the subject as her mouth curved into a smile. You gave her a smirk of your own. Whenever the both of you had classes together, you wouldn't stop giggling for the most stupid reasons. Would it be teachers, other kids in school, hell, even objects! Honestly, she was everything you could ask for in a best friend. You knew each other since first grade. Maya knew about the incident with Vance because she was there too. Ever since then, the both of you hung out a lot, and you got very close, resulting in her being your best friend and you being hers.

As you both walked to the English classroom, ahead of you, you saw Vance with his supposed 'friends' and some two other girls. You scoffed, rolling your eyes while Maya just looked at them with the white of her eye. The both of you walked past the horrendously annoying group (in your opinion), but you noticed that Maya made some sort of expression you couldn't explain. Closest to it was one of surprise. An 'Ooh' and 'Aah' escaped from her lips, as if she was reading some sort of fascinating fashion magazine. You turned your head to see what she was 'Ooh'ing and 'Aah'ing about and you mentally groaned out.

Turning your head back, you saw Vance fucking Hopper staring at you. Right directly at you. The both of you locked eyes. As you kept eye contact with his icy blues, you saw that Carol girl angrily glaring at you. Making a face you turned your head towards Maya.

"I swear that chick has some problem with me!" You commented. "She keeps giving me a hairy eyeball, and I don't know why! I honestly think-"

"It's because she likes Vance. Yeah, I know. The whole school does." She replied. "Last year, when I was paired up with him for the school's baking competition, she kept either glaring or sneering at me." She said with a laughter. "Who cares, tho? It's not like she can win over his heart with her bitchy attitude. Wait! Actually no!" She exclaimed, her head turning towards you with wide eyes and a grin on her face. "They would be the perfect couple! They both are assholes like it's their full-time job and are just... Eugh!" Maya shivered a bit, a scowl plastered on her face while you chuckled at her reaction.

When you both went inside the classroom, you went to your usual seats, which were almost at the back. As you sat on the dirty plastic chairs, both of you started talking about different topics.

"And then she-" Maya got interrupted by the teacher walking in. Ugh. Mrs.Young..

After a while, you started quietly giggling at a thought that came in your head. Maya looked at you, confusion drawn on her face. You just gave her a nod, meaning that you would tell her in a bit. As the class began to sit down, Mrs. Young started talking about something that clearly wasn't important to you because you were quietly laughing and whispering with Maya.

"Y'know.. Young doesn't suit her. Like at all. She's fuckin' ancient, an annoying old hag that passes the jocks so they can graduate, just because she wants to pull down their pants since she can't do that to her husband." Maya quickly put a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh or even giggle. You could see her eyes slightly filled with tears as she blinked profusely.

"It wasn't that funny, but still. Its so-"

"Y/N!" Mr. Young yelled out. You stiffened as the expression on your face quickly turned from joy to panic. As you straightened up and turned your head towards her, you saw her make the most horrendous expression on an adult you have ever seen. You tried to keep it inside, but you let out a giggle and a quiet laugh.

"Something funny, young lady?" The teacher questioned.

Yes.

"N-No Mrs. Young.." You said through laughs. Fuck. As you glanced at Maya, you already knew she was gonna be the reason you were gonna end up in detention. As you let out a laugh again, that's when Mrs. Young shouted out.

"That's it! Detention for three days!"

"But-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses!"

You sighed as you plopped down on the plastic chair, placing your cheek on your palm.

What a day, honestly.

When the bell rang, you quickly gathered your stuff and left without uttering a word to your best friend. She called out to you, but you ignored her completely. As you went to your locker, you heard someone shout out your name while you quickly switched up your books.

"Y/N..!"

Maya's voice echoed through the hall. You turned around to look at her as she jogged towards you. When she was in front of you, she panted for some seconds before speaking up.

"What." You questioned, voice flat. It took her a moment to talk as she was taking some breaths. "Listen.. I didn't mean to make you mad or get you into trouble. I just wanted to make you smile after her nagging 'n shit, you know?" "Yeah, but that doesn't mean while she's scolding and looking at me!" "I'm sorry! Okay?" She exclaimed quickly while looking down at the ground. You just smiled at her. When she looked to you, her blue eyes crinkled at the end as she gave you a grin. You know she didn't mean any harm. "You're lucky you're my best friend, or I would have done everything possible to get you stuck in detention with me." She let out a giggle and hugged you, you doing the same.

As the time flew by, you went to detention, and when that hell of a place was over, you walked to the exit to leave school. You decided to go to the Grab 'N Go later and you walked half the way towards your house, you heard leaves crunching behind you. You shrugged it off and started walking a bit faster. When you realized the person behind copied you, you hesitated to turn around, and you did. Your eyes slightly widened a bit, then narrowed.

Vance fucking Hopper. Great. Just great.

You locked eyes with him. He looked you up and down, sneering. You stopped in your tracks, your face contouring into confusion and annoyance. "Are you followin' me or something, Hopper? You weren't even in detention, so what are you doing here walking so late after school?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow as you gripped the straps of your backpack. He probably took notice of it because he looked at them. Narrowing his eyebrows, he barked out, "Get a hold of yourself, dimwit. I would never follow anybody, especially you. Stupid bitch." 'Such a lie. He would definently follow someone if they piqued his interest.' You tought. Then he walked past you, grumbling something inaudible afterward.

You rolled your eyes and started again. Honestly, you expected some more arguing with him right now, but he didn't really do anything troublesome today when you think about it. Not even a minute fight with someone. Well, except when he started kicking your leg and tugging on your hair. He didn't answer your second question, too.. whatever, but what was that supposed to mean? Someone like you?

This time, Vance was ahead of you, so you decided to observe him. He was wearing his jean vest, a mix of blue-ish and gray-ish jeans, a white wife beater, belt, and some dirty black shoes. That was the outfit he wore most. Then, your eyes went up to the back of his head. His long, dirty-blond curls bouncing with every step he took. Honestly, you sometimes envied him for his hair. It was interesting. Wait. Did you just give that asshole a compliment? Yeah, but his hair was pretty! But his personality was the total opposite. It's like he was born on this planet to terrorize everything and everyone. You tought to yourself for a moment that it was because of his home life. You knew about it. He had told you a bit before you two had started hating each other. But that didn't excuse his behavior at all.

What you didn't realize was that you were so caught up in your mind that you were two blocks past your house. Stopping in your tracks when you had realized, you turned around, giving the blond one last glance.

Unlocking the door, you went inside, kicking your shoes off and dropping your backpack. You went to the wired phone to call Maya. Dialing her number, you put the receiver on your ear and waited. When she answered the both of you made an agreement to meet at the Grab 'N Go in 10.

Hanging up, you quickly ran up to your room, grabbing a 5 dollar bill, shoving it in your pocket. You closed the door and rushed down the stairs, putting on your shoes. You went outside and locked the door. You weren't really rushing, so you were walking at a normal pace. You started wondering where the nickname 'Bugs' for Maya came. After a while of thinking, you remembered it was from that one cartoon animation with a bunch of episodes. Looney Tunes, was it?

When you arrived at the Grab 'N Go, Maya wasn't there. She lived closer to the mini store than you did, so you thought it was unusual. Another strange thing is that she always waited for you right in front of the door. You decided to wait for some more minutes. Maybe she would be a bit late than usual, or was she inside? Your gut feeling was telling you something was wrong. You just hoped that The Grabber didn't kidnap her. Just the thought of that made you want to vomit. You quickly decided to first look inside the Grab 'N Go.

Going in, you saw a familiar blond hunched over the Pinball Machine, trying to beat his high score, its bell dinging whenever he scored. Typical Vance.

Ripping your attention off of him, you went between the aisles, but there was no sight of Maya. Suddenly, you heard a lot of commotion come from the side of the freezers. You decided to go there. Going on the other side, you saw a formed crowd of kids. A lot of hyping up and yells could be heard. A fight was happening. You don't know how the lady at the cash register wasn't hearing them chanting 'Fight, fight, fight!'. You wanted to shrug it off, but it was like an itch waiting to be scratched. As you pushed through the kids towards the center, you froze. Your eyes widened from the scene in front of you.

What the fuck?

Some two girls were holding Maya's arms from both her sides, and a third one was throwing punches and kicks at her. Your best friend's face was bruised, and so were her legs and arms. Her lip was almost busted. It wasn't even a fight at this point it was torture.

With clenched fists, your knuckles probably turning white at this point, you looked at the cashier and then back to Maya. When she moved her eyes towards you, you saw pain but relief when she took notice of you. There was so much more, but you couldn't just stand there anymore.

As you pushed through the kids, you went behind the girl who was hitting her. Grabbing her from the hair, you heard her yelp out in pain. "You putrid crotch-sniffing toerag, I swear to God I will kill you!" You yelled at her while turning her head to look at you. "Let me go, you cunt!" She screeched out. Ignoring her demanding, you straight up bashed her head in the freezer then threw her to the ground afterwards. Lifting her head up you saw that her eyes were teary and her nose was bleeding. She touched the bloody trail dripping from her nostrils with her fingertips and she quickly glared at you, anger evident in her eyes. As she got up she swinged a punch at you but you quickly ducked. Seeing her leg move a bit, you assumed she was going to try and kick you somewhere. Knowing her next attack, you blocked it with the tip of your elbow. You heard from somewhere that blocking it that way hurts your opponent more. Suddenly, an idea popped up in your mind. You grinned, bending your knees down a bit, hands resting on them.

"Stupidity ain't a crime, so feel fuckin' free to get outta here, bitch!" You remarked. "Oh! And by the way. I dont know if your parents realize that they're living proof of making a complete mistake and a fucking bitch that bullies other kids and projects her problems on them." You spat out afterward. She just stared up at you. And that's where you crossed the line. Before you can even comprehend, she punched you right in the nose.

"Y/N!" You heard the voice of your best friend call out to you. There was so much noise and commotion. You felt like everything was a fever dream. That was until you felt a kick to the stomach. You shut your eyes, a stinging feeling in them as you clutched your stomach with your arms. When you opened them, they were teary, and you felt a warm liquid trickling down your nose. Yup, you definently got a bloody nose, too. You wiped the blood with the sleeve of your shirt and looked up at her with a nasty glare. She was just grimacing down at you like you were some sort of creature that snuck on Earth. Out of nowhere, she decided to kick you in the hip multiple times, and your not gonna lie, it hurt like a bitch. It almost felt like you were gonna have a broken pelvis.

Just as you thought you were done for and embarrassed yourself in front of the whole Grab 'N Go, Maya shouted unexpectedly.

"Hey, you cock-sucking hackwag!" The girl turned around, facing her. She was surprised at her words because earlier she was tormenting your best friend, and now she's getting insulted by her. "Getting bold, are we?" She questioned, tilting her head while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

You sat up, your back leaning against the freezer door. You felt a slight lump on your lip. As you touched it a bit with the tips of your fingers, you realized she busted your lip. Grimacing, you looked up at the crowd. Some of them were watching Maya and the girl. Some were watching you. Including Vance. His eyes were scanning your bruises and whatnot that was on your exposed skin. He wasn't looking at you only. He observed the girl, Maya, and you. He was a fighter. After all, he was here for the fight. But when his eyes went to your slightly parted bloody lips, his eyebrows furrowed as he locked eyes with yours. The both of you were having a staring stand-off. Well, that was until someone's torso fell on your feet, hissing and groaning as you heard an 'Oh!' from the crowd. You were ready to attack that rascal again if Maya was the one on your feet, but it wasn't. It was quite the opposite, actually. Maya was standing proudly, a small grin plastered on her lips. You brought your feet up to your torso, her back hitting the ground, making her groan out again. You let out a laugh and stood up, dusting yourself.

Grabbing your best friend's hand, you pushed through the crowd. "We gotta go before we get into even more trouble!" You exclaimed, turning your head to glance at her. Going past the cashier lady, she gave you an odd look. Maybe it was because of your beaten up state, turning her gaze to where the leftover commotion was coming.

When you and Maya went out the door, the bell rang, signaling your exit. You started running and giggling a bit, both of your lungs' burning. Both of you were bruised, scratched, and whatnot. People on the street were giving you weird and concerned looks, but hey. At least you kind of protected Maya. But you owed her now. She saved you from that girl before she could do something else than just throw a blow and some kicks at you. You were just glad she was okay.

As for now, both of you went over to your house and fixed each other up on the living room couch, watching some clichè action movie. After a while, she said.

"Dude, I honestly thought you were done for when she started kickin' and shit. You looked so.."

"Don't even finish."

She chuckled while laying her head on your lap, her legs on the armrest. "I'm just glad you're okay, N/N." She murmured.

"Me too, Bugs." You answered, caressing her hair. "Oh, by the way, did you see the way Vance looked at you? It was weird."

"I know, don't mention it. Again." You exclaimed quickly. "Why?" She asked. There was a moment of silence between the both of you. "Because I don't know what kind of look it was." You mumbled. "What kind of look did you hope it was?" She looked up at you, her blue eyes looking for an answer in yours.

"I don't know." You stated, ripping your eyes from hers to the TV.

"Then, if you don't know now, you will find out another day." She said before turning her attention towards the movie.

What a day.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ NOTES : Hello, guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am currently working on the second chapter of the fic, so stay tuned! If you want to get tagged when chapter II is out, please leave a comment or like! If you have any suggestions for the next chapter, feel free to tell me in the comments! Bye-bye! :D

Tags ! : @yayitsyannie @serradiary1ry @dollyzdove I edited the fic up a bit, so that's why I'm tagging you guys for chapter I !

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #billy showalter #griffin stagg #finney blake #gwen blake #robin arellano #bruce yamada #the grabber #albert shaw

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hauntedwitch04 · 1 year ago

Text

Just a Mirror

Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader

Words: about 6.3k words

Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes

REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating

Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !

p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.

In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.

Requests are open I Ask

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Why?

This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.

You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze

You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.

Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.

"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.

As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.

"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.

After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.

"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.

"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.

"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.

You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.

Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.

You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.

That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.

You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.

You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.

He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.

Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.

"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.

The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.

"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."

You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.

"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.

"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.

"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."

"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.

"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.

"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.

"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.

"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.

There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.

The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.

So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.

Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.

Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.

Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.

It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.

You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.

In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.

You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.

"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.

You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.

Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.

You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.

"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.

You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.

"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.

"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.

"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."

You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.

"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."

You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.

"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.

"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."

Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.

You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.

"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.

"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.

You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.

You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.

"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.

"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.

"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.

"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.

"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.

"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.

"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."

You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.

"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."

He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.

"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.

This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.

"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.

"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."

"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"

"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.

"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"

"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.

"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.

It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.

TAGLIST

@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya

#hauntedwitch04's writing #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader smut #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean x castiel #supernatural x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #becky's favorite #castiel x dean #castiel novak

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 months ago

Text

I feel like I owe Kim Possible a minor apology. In a recent post, I used Kim and Ron's romance as an example of how the love square should have been written. I've also talked about how Ron's the perfect example of a male comedy sidekick who is more than just a comedy sidekick because he's treated as Kim's perfect partner. I've probably mentioned Kim Possible other times, too, because it's such a good match for what Miraculous is trying to do.

Because I keep singing Kim Possible's praises I decided that I should rewatch the show to make sure that my nostalgia goggles weren't blinding me to some major flaw. So far, they weren't. If anything, I've been underselling the show. This is where we get to that apology I mentioned at the start.

Prior to this rewatch, I would have told you that Ron's importance wasn't really discussed until the later seasons because the first season of a formulaic kids show is almost always a testing grounds to see what works, so things can be a little rough. Plus Ron's importance isn't exactly something that you need to dive into early on when you've got a two person team. No one is questioning Ron's importance right out of the gate. He's there to be the comedy sidekick. No explanation needed.

Imagine my surprise when the plot of episode six is all about Kim and Ron getting into a fight about Ron excelling at their part time job while Kim kinda sucks, leading to Kim going to fight alone while Ron keeps working. Kim fails, Ron gets a call that she's in trouble, and:

Wade: Not important. Kim's in trouble. She found Drakken at inside giant Cheese Wheel but I lost contact. She needs help. Your help. Ned: Well, well, well. Looks like you've got a choice to make, Stoppable! What's more important? Your sacred duty as assistant manager or your role as goofy sidekick? Ron: Well, that's no choice at all. I guess it's time to say buenos noches, Bueno Nacho.

Dude doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't matter if they're fighting or if he's feeling underappreciated, Kim needs his help? He's there. Their fight can wait until after Kim is safe. This is why I love Ron. Total dork, but you can't ask for a better partner.

Ron's rescue attempt initially goes south, but instead of getting mad, we get this genuinely sweet moment:

Ron: Guess that wasn't much of a plan. Kim: Not as great as your Bueno Nacho bathroom-break chart. Ron: I gooned on assistant-manager power. You were right. Kim: I did resent your superior burrito technique. You're entitled to excel. Forgive me? Ron: Duh! Forgive me? Kim: Totally.

Boy do I love these two! Their friendship was so genuine right from the start. This whole episode is just oozing how much they care for each other, it's great!

After this moment, they save the day with Ron playing a big part in Kim's plan because right from season one, season one, the writers understood that Kim could never be shown to win when Ron wasn't around.

As you may have guessed from the cheese wheel line, the plot of this episode is pretty absurd even for Kim Possible. That's been the case for all of the early episodes, but I think that the plots are going to improve as the seasons go on because I remember the later seasons having much stronger plots. We'll see if that proves true. Even if the plots stay kinda weak, I've still gotta give full credit to the writers for their early character work. They really understood Kim and Ron's relationship right from the start, didn't they? And in a show like this, that's the most important element to get right.

Don't worry, I'm not going to flood your dash with Kim Possible love, I just had to take a moment to appreciate how good the character work was here. They really did want Ron to feel like more than Kim's goofy sidekick and they pulled it off while sticking to the show's absurd writing and formulaic structure. As Miraculous has shown, that isn't something that just naturally happens. It takes effort, so I had to take a moment to gush because I don't get to gush about good character work often while running this blog. I hope this also makes it clear that, when it comes to writing, I'm not looking for perfection. I'm just looking for a good time. So far, that's what this rewatch is giving me.

#Kim Possible #I needed to gush guys #I knew my KP love wasn't misplaced but damn #Gold star writers #Gold star #Proof that I do actually like to enjoy things #And can sing praises when I do #There's actually multiple season one episodes about Kim and Ron's relationship #Because why not?#These are your costars it makes sense to show how close they are #*looks and Miraculous and weeps*

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pinklayla123 · 10 days ago

Note

Putting this reply here because I want it and it saves me time to say the same thing.

So, you, an elriel, I presume, admit that what Elain and Azriel were about to do was indeed wrong? That Elain pursuing another guy while still having the bond with Lucien is not right? Elain who is not technically, but canonically, undeniably, irrefutably Lucien's mate. So you admit that what was about to happen in the first part of the chapter would have been wrong? That if Elain was so in love with Azriel and dying to be with him as Elriels believe she should at least say it to Lucien's face and reject him instead of staying ever in silence because no, a mating bond is not something that you can just ignore away? That there are not just political ramifications to consider but also how Lucien, who has been a literal darling all the time and described by several other characters as a good male, doesn't fucking deserve to be treated this way?

Hello, person behind ghost blog with randomly generated name, who sent a screenshot of a blog that evidently doesn't exist but is tagged in Elucien fanfictions.

First of all, thank you for sending this ask. This is the first time I've gotten a passive-aggressive fandom related ask like this, so this is low-key a tumblr milestone for me. So thank you for that.

I assume the screenshot included is someone's response to an ask they received in regards to this post since the wording is somewhat similar, but I can't actually find the blog you screenshot so idk what's up with that.

Now, onto the actual ask. The screenshot says "Did Azriel think anything about touching Elain feeling like touching the Mother herself? Lol, no." I believe this is referring to this sentence in my post "Touching Elain is the closest this man has come to meeting the Mother herself."

I did not mean to imply, in any way, shape, or form, that Azriel wants to get down and dirty with the Mother and is using Elain as a conduit for that kink. I simply meant to say that touching Elain was a very monumental experience for him. In the back of my head I was thinking about how he was literally questioning the Cauldron ("What if the cauldron was wrong?") which is a large part of the "religion" in Prythian, therefore anything that made him question it is undoubtedly a big deal for him. I see now that this wasn't very clear in the original post, so thank you for allowing me this opportunity to clarify my thought process.

Now, if I may, I will reply to the paragraph you went to the effort of actually typing out. Yes, I ship Elriel, you presume correctly. Do I think Elain and Azriel almost kissing is wrong? No, I'm afraid not.

This seems to be a follow-up to "The situation is wrong because Elain is technically mated to another guy who is literally sleeping upstairs." in my post. Is Elain wanting to kiss the man who has been nothing but kind and caring and gentlemanly since she's known him wrong? No I believe not.

Despite her canonically, undeniably, irrefutably being Lucien's mate, she actually does not owe him anything at all, least of all an explanation, because she did not make him any promises. She never went up to Lucien and said "I wanna explore this thing between us" and then go behind his back. If that were the case, yes it would be wrong. But alas, it is not.

I don't have it in me to go pull out the actual quote, but Rhys said in ACOWAR I believe that a female being a male's mate does not equal to her being accountable to him for every breath she takes. Elain is well within her right to not want to do anything at all with Lucien, as demonstrated by her being more than willing to kiss someone else in the same house.

Okay, if this isn't wrong, then why on earth did I say that it is? Easy. Because while Elain and Azriel are not doing anything wrong, their actions will be perceived as such by others and will have consequences far beyond the two of them.

On the topic of sweet darling Lucien, I wouldn't go as far to say he is one of my favorite characters, but I certainly don't hate him and would like to see him get a happy ending. However, he hasn't really done much for Elain to say he actually cares about her or wants a life-long relationship with her. His inner monologue consists of thinking Elain was "thrown" at him and he chooses to spend his days living with another woman on the other side of the world. Doesn't seem to me like either of them want jack and shit to do with each other.

p.s. Just because someone is a "good male" doesn't entitle them to anyone's time and affections, especially someone who has shown no interest in them and even seem to avoid them.

Anyways, sorry this got a little long. Have a nice day 😊😊

#elriel #elain #azriel #ask

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makriiii · 2 months ago

Text

Caught XVII (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

Word count: 4k

Authors note: My powers been out so I finally had an excuse to ponder my next move in the series (spoiler!? you guys are IN for it this chapter 😈) I'm also of course, sorry as always for disappearing for months again!

Warnings: 18+, guns, cussing, alcohol, SA.

♡

Caught XVII

"You're too good to me!" You chirp, more than elated with the man you found in front of you. "Let me pay for our drinks this time."

"Oh, bosh." He reached up to adjust the bowler hat you remembered so fondly atop his head. "I got nothin' else to spend it on!"

"Well, I owe ya one anyway." You remark reluctantly, undelighted with his stubbornness.

"That blouse suits ya' well y/n." He spins a finger around, pointing at his wife's shirt that you had on. "I'm glad you're gettin' good use of 'em."

"I still owe you for that too, I reckon." You chuckle, all his favors for you made you feel bad without reciprocating.

"You're puttin' them to use. That's all you gotta do for me."

The generosity of this man baffled you. It weighed on your conscience, your life's path was not one deserving of the kindness he bestowed.

You patted his hand as a thanks. "Nevertheless. If there's anything you ever need, David."

He gave you a grin, shaking his head. "Just accept my drinks and we're square."

"I'dve never expected to have found you in Rhodes, David." You continue, watching Arthur who had positioned himself a few seats away from you and David. "What brings you to this dusty little town anyway?"

"Well, I'll tell ya what-" Slapping one hand on the bar and a head cocked back, the liquid in the glass vanished. "I'm gon' see how Saint Denis treats me. Just a pit stop for now."

David had clearly been here for a while already, his pockets loose and not a worry too light. His warm, bubbly attitude felt comforting. A man who didn't care about your past.

Arthur sat a few seats down, seemingly fine on his own, but his glares every so often made it obvious he believed you were unworthy of a gifted meal.

"Yeah?" You chuckle, "From my own experience, its high fliers too big for their britches and the ones that knock you upside the head for the few rocks you got in your pocket."

"Psh.. they wouldn't mess with me, ya know." He jests before grabbing another glass, though he seemed to have noticed Arthurs occasional glare which he promptly searched you for any explanation. "You know that man?"

"Don't mind him, he's had a long day." You stared back at Arthur while you spoke, eating his food so uptight.

As unexpected as it was, David started laughing. A small chuckle that grew.

You cocked a brow, unsure if it was the alcohol or just something you had said.

"He somethin to ya?" He asked with a grin, motioning for another drink.

His question felt like it squeezed the air out of you.

You felt stuck. Even with every feeling you felt for that man, they amalgamated into something you couldn't articulate.

David sat calmly, your aversion to your own feelings he seemed to sympathize with.

"I don't know."

David's eyes fixed on yours and with just a soft nod, you felt at ease. That alone was enough for him to understand.

He offered you the next drink and you didn't need any extra encouragement.

"I feel a lot of different ways about that man right now." You stared at the empty shot in front of you, disregarding the fresh dinner on your plate. "And I'm not so sure what of its right and wrong anymore."

David swirled his drink, his usual demeanor hazed with a soft and contemplative veneer.

"He's wronged me more times than I can count and yet I still find his presence appealing."

"Another ladies offering him a night." He blurted suddenly.

Your eyes shot over to Arthur, though one still alone upon a quick inventory.

David shook his head and started up with that chuckle again.

"You'll be the end of me, David, right in this chair here." You heaved a sigh, covering your face with your hand.

"I reckon you could deny it for the rest of your days, you'd also come to regret it as long too."

His words steamed over you once more, lingering and burning a hole inside you.

Oh, how obvious it was now.

You shoveled a few bites into your mouth, his reasoning sorting out the mess of your feelings.

"It's not often ya find one like that, y/n." David laments, "you feel right 'round him, don't ya?"

"More than I should, I suppose."

Despite your sentences growing short, you only filled with a sense of longing. Your glances over to Arthur becoming brief and timid.

"I have a firm reason to believe it's not reciprocal." You murmured. Talking about this aloud and with Arthur so close? Perhaps you were about to find out from his own appearance.

He hummed a familiar tune before taking one last swig of his drink. "He's waiting for you." He pats your shoulder before popping himself out of his chair, stretching on his way out.

You hesitated before standing up to send David on his way, surprised he was leaving so soon.

"I'd do anythin' to tell my wife what I feel for her once more." He whispers as he embraces you. "You owe me after all. Don't lose yourself on silly worries and wind up like me."

He was right, whether fortunately or not. That you couldn't deny.

"Thank you, David." The unfamiliar feel of your lip quivering frightened you, tears welling up threatened further punishment. "I'll do my best for you.

"I know you will, y/n." He smiled, on his way for what he desired in Saint Denis.

You watched as he walked out of the saloon, still contemplating the conversation that had just transpired. The one man not predestined to despise you for being an O'Driscoll- or a traitorous Van Der Linde member leaving you to yourself once more.

A large hand on your shoulder startled you out of somber thought, bringing you back to the present predicament.

"You gon' finish that food?" Arthur questions behind you, finally deciding to waltz up to you.

"You can have it." You offer, turning back to sit with him. You didn't feel like eating anymore.

He stood over you, deciding on your words before walking to sit down with you. "Ya sure?"

You simply nodded. Staring down at the dirty floor boards as you collected yourself. No way were you gonna let him see you shed a tear.

"Who was that man, anyway?"

Clearing your throat, you swallowed the lump in your throat, assuring that today was not the day to let loose. "Good buddy of mine."

Arthur seemed to pick up on whatever it was you were feeling. If not due to your unusually quiet demeanor then perhaps he'd noticed the shake in your voice.

"Not your fabled husband then?" He inquired, his typical smirk adorning his lips.

The age old fib you had tried to sell him he still brought up every so often, ruling out the ability to be in the doldrums.

You scoff with a growing smile, "I'm afraid he's not annoying enough, Mister Callahan."

That, he had not expected. A soft chuckle erupted from him as he looked you over. "We happen to marry drunk? I cannot recall."

"Me neither. Suppose we'll have to make up a date."

As Arthur finished the rest of the food, you both spoke back and forth about various aspects of the town of roads and the contents of its residents, particularly the grays. A light hearted conversation free of the angst and trouble often given by the one or both of you that was often the set tone.

The saloon soon grew in capacity, prompting you and Arthur to pack up. Neither of you wanted the attention you felt you were getting now.

Eyes of many ogled and monitored you both when a pack of men most recognizable by their yellow scarves pushed through the doors.

Their cheering and hollering lessened as they paused on you and Arthur, of whom kept close to you.

One of the men mumbled something you could only catch bits of, which filled you with dread as you pieced it together. "I know that face from somewhere."

Arthur glanced at you with caution, avoiding the men.

"Hey." A gruff, messy and an overall unfortunate sight stopped you two, his eyes trying to gather just where he might've seen you. "Y'all aint gon' be trouble are ya?"

His comrades surrounded your sides, everyone else had quieted down, not sure what they were to anticipate. Like a hungry hoard of coyotes.

"Just passin' through." You oblige, stepping for the exit with Arthurs in tow.

"You do look awful familiar." He interrupts so callously. The man held out his hand as to halt both of you, taking the chance for further inspection. "Say... what's that gang, boy?"

He reaches out with a harsh slap on his pal's shoulder. A younger but just as rough member of his gang. "Van Der Linde." He musters with a hiss, comforting his shoulder.

"Ya aint one of em, are ya?" He interrogates, his eyes beating through you. "What's your names?"

"Arthur and y/n Callahan. Just through this way to marry, that's all." Arthur admonishes, grabbing your hand as a demonstration. "We're only leaving."

"Married?" He was taken aback, as if it was unheard of. Light chuckles erupt from the encasing of men, some hollers and whoops once more. "Why, congratulations!" The taunting irked you and Arthur, squeezing his hand to encourage him out with you.

The man seemed to accept that as you pushed past him, but that sentiment was cut short. It was like they saw through it.

"Give us a little show, ey?" He remarks, everyone moving out onto the veranda as you and Arthur made for the horses. "Y'all ain't leavin' otherwise."

"Newly weds oughta." Another harps, egging the rest on.

"Christ." You drawl, still with Arthur in hand as you both stopped. "What's it take for a break?"

"Go bout your own business." Arthur grumbles, waving him off. He was about to continue on when the all too familiar sound of a cocking gun sounded from the group.

"That or ya sit here and wait till we figure out where we remember y'all from." His voice deepened, breathy and threatening.

Your heart. Your stomach. Everything retangled, worse than before. Arthur glared at the men, hand still held firmly in his grasp.

"It ain't hard to kiss your new wife!" Came from the left and an agreement shouted from the right.

Arthur hesitated, his eyes darting to you and back several times. Your hands grew so hot, sweating was unavoidable at that point.

You couldn't, could you? Could he? Would he?

"They fibbin', ain't they, boss?"

The man hummed, your chance was about to vanish and trouble worse than a kiss would follow.

With a heart beating like mad and an arm around Arthur, your lips met his with nerve.

A tense and swiftly executed action.

The whooping, hollering and laughing arose once more as the men got what they wanted.

As you pulled away ever so slightly, his eyes met yours, searching each other for any semblance that this was unwanted - undesirable and forced. It was an impossible find.

Arthurs arms pulled you in firmer, his eyes lit with that hunger you'd only seen sparsely.

Intense yearning drove your every instinct as your lips met again, the all familiar taste of whiskey and cigarette meeting your tongue.

Every fiber of your being wanted this moment to last forever. Not even the bother of the infuriating crowd discouraged you, that was hardly a worry.

Your stress, your worries, your overthinking- a remedy above any and all amounts of alcohol, disappeared like it'd never been.

Pulling away with a heavy breath, Arthur reluctantly let you go, gesturing to leave with his hand on the small of your back.

The men let you be as they all continued with their previous intentions, leaving you and Arthur to sit with what you had just done.

He still tensed as he walked with his shoulder scraping yours lightly, brushing his fingers across his lower lip.

“Are you okay?” He peeps, his eyes searching for assurance.

“Dandy.” You muster, continuing with the plan to hide your burning face with a hand over your mouth.

You felt about ready to blow. If that was any descriptor.

---

Javier strummed his guitar lightly, tuning it as he ran his finger across each string to adjust it better.

The occasional pops and crackles from the fire added to the song Javier was warming up for. Lighting the faces around the fire.

Sean and Bill's voices heightened every so often as their conversation slighted to bickering and back again. Something about the military and another about Ireland, you couldn't quite catch what they were on about.

Kieran had just gotten done reporting to you his catches from the nearby fishing spot he'd found. Some talk of a massive, mythical sounding bluegill. He was particularly excited about it and you were glad he was getting his mind off of the people in camp.

But you could not get one particular man in camp off your mind.

He was sat on his bed across from camp, nose in his diary. The dark made it hard to see exactly whether he was drawing or writing, either way you were curious to see.

The bustle of the camp started to die down as night befell the land, a calm you always looked forward to.

Fiddling with your pistol in hand, you decided to give it a quick clean. Running your fingertips over the engravings, the accidental scratches and dents that signified all it had been through with you.

The rag you used was due in for a cleaning of its own, the gun oil and dirt splotched the once red color of the fabric. The flame of the fire danced in reflections along the barrel of your gun, a mesmerizing sight.

From the first sin you committed, to the many that followed suit after, the feeling inside you was not one you felt you would ever succumb to.

That kiss lingered in your mind, unrelenting in its replays. The taste of him still on your tongue, the look in his eye before he kissed you.

Men are not typically a subject of desire, particularly in your field of work. They were rotten, vulgar, dangerous.

Not to say you nor Arthur were above that, but rather, it simply just didn't seem so bad with him.

It felt silly. A crush? Arthur seemed not the type for shenanigans like that either. Love. That's the worse one.

You tapped your finger against the gun in your palm, checking your bullets.

Confessing? You cringed back at the thought. Was it obvious with that kiss? Or did he feel it just a ruse as it was meant to be?

Standing before him and muttering a phrase that barely made your feelings understandable to him was particularly deplorable. What would he say to that anyway, how would he react? Maybe he'd finally tell you to get lost for good.

Uncle came lumbering out of the woodwork to join you by the fire, though not giving you much space. "Just 'bout nearly pissed myself." He groaned with a stretch of his back, having exerted himself to such exhaustion.

Javier glanced up with a furrowed brow, shaking his head, his light strums on the guitar interrupted. "We always enjoy knowing that, Uncle."

Sean had himself a giggle at Bill's glare, dismissing Uncle's antics to return to his previous rant.

"You can't thank me enough, huh, O'Driscoll?" Uncle elbows you lightly, bringing your attention to him. He noticed something amiss.

"I don't reckon I'll ever be able to show my gratitude." You smiled as you reholstered your revolver, Uncle's breath nearing a biohazard.

He chuckled his usual loud chuckle, a bottle in hand and his red pajamas soaking up the droplets he spilt as he took haphazard drinks from the bottle.

He smelt of a lot of unpleasant things, mainly alcohol and musk but the man was as aloof and happy as can be.

It wasn't long that he had another story to tell everyone who'd listen. You weren't one for it tonight, longing for the quiet some space would give you.

Excusing yourself from the fire, you decided to take the guard position. It'd give you some time to think - away from everyone else.

As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you saw Lenny come out from some brush, shotgun in hand. He walked with a drag in his step and slump in his back but a glint of hope sparkled in his eye when he noticed you.

"I'll take over for you, Lenny." You extend your arm to relieve him of his duties, though he hesitated for a moment, eyeing you.

"I ain't been out here for long," he states, "you sure?"

"It ain't no trouble."

He nods, setting the shotgun in your hands, leaving you to the dark of the surroundings.

He certainly wasn't sure of you still either, as was the running theme with the members in camp. You knew and sympathized with the reason, but you were beginning to feel the desire to be a valued part of the gang. To just be.

Reminiscing on the nights that you'd find yourself around a campfire with the O’Driscoll boys, some of your best comrades, singing, drinking, eating by the fire. A true feeling of belonging. They had trusted you.

Perhaps it was retribution. Never feeling proper after what you'd done to them.

You felt overwhelmed as you sondered into the dark, shrubby forest, walking the border quietly. Gazing up every so often as you breathed in the stuffy air, the stars sporadic in their blinking. As if in a way to remind you of that night, your near fatal mistake that landed you here.

Barely were you paying attention, lost in your thoughts, though still sure to keep your distance from whoever else was on guard, when two hands pinched your shoulders tightly.

Letting out a gasp as you tensed, a voice hissed out, "O'Driscoll."

Whipping around to free yourself, the voice matched who you suspected.

"Micah." You return, clutching the shotgun in your grasp. "You ain't gotta take over yet."

He scoffs harshly, "I wasn't bouta take your duty off your hands." The sneer on his face barely visible through the shadow, though his wiry blonde hair was clear to see.

"Then we got no business," cynicism and doubt lined every word of yours. "Do we?"

"Oh, we do, O'Driscoll." His voice always did bother you. There was something about the man you couldn't stand. "I've been catchin' you and that other rat 'round camp- doing what I can only imagine to be conspiring."

He paced a small stretch in front of you before looming over you in a fashion that seemed to be signature to him. "We just wanna be knowing what's being said."

Conspiring about a fish out of a fairy tail, perhaps. You shrugged him off and stepped away. "Kieran and I are on our best behavior. We dropped the O’Driscoll kinship long ago."

"Say what ya want, little lady." Micah followed, his voice sharp and menacing. "Dutch... Arthur- Arthur. " He repeats out his name with pure malice, "They might be lettin' you off easy? I'm not."

Micah's hand grabbed your healing shoulder with every intention to make it sting, his other targeting your neck.

"What the hell?" You choke out, shocked he felt he had much of any right to be doing what he was doing.

Shooting the man off you was desirable. But as you tussled underneath him, grunting as you fought off his hand, you knew it wasn't an option.

"I want to know," he grips onto your wrist to drive back your arm, "exactly what you're tellin' each other, especially Arthur."

He wasn't a feeble man by no means, which alarmed you as you swung wrestled with him, the leaves and brush making it hard to get good footing. "You're poisoning him, aren't you?"

"He tells me bout his fish, I tell him bout my fish." You remark angrily amongst the struggle before dealing out the classic. The side of his thigh met your knee as if he knew exactly when you'd utilize it. "Goddamn you big bastard! Arthur and I hardly stand each other."

"God may damn me all he wants." His hand on your wrist and another on the shotgun, he tried yanking from you, which you had no intention on letting happen. "But that ain't it. There's things happenin' that shouldn't. "

"Get off me, 'fore I do something we both'll regret." You hiss out before your back hits a tree. The situation ever more dire.

A shit eating grin split his face as he knocks the breath out of you, your lungs both struggling in the heavy humid air. "I want answers, O'Driscoll."

His eyes a blue that pierced through the darkness, and they sent a message, clearly, nothing short of frighteningly.

"I have nothin' to say to you, Micah." You state firmly between breaths, anger boiling your skin. "Get off me."

He hums a consideration not dually considered, his face horribly close to yours. His eyes trailing to your lips and back up.

For a moment, he paused. The only sound amongst you was heavy breathing.

The horrible feel of his free hand running down your waist zapped you of your breath. Never did his eyes stray from yours as your face twisted in disgust and horror.

"So close to camp too, no one would even bat an eye." He enjoyed every which way your face distorted because of him. Deriving a sick pleasure from your terror.

"Tell me just what you've been telling him." He demands once more. Your entire body shivered, wanting to simply dissipate or perhaps make him do so.

The tingle of your trigger finger turned into a deep nauseous ache in your stomach as his hand reached lower.

"Or ya gonna be quiet enough..." his grin turned into a hoarse, sinister cackle as if he knew you couldn't do much against him. That he could do as he pleased. "that we can have a little fun right next to camp?"

As his hand made for your belt buckle, he glanced down to take it off, and the hand he should've held shot up into his eyes.

He gasped out something fierce as you pointed the shotgun at him, the barrel stabbed harshly into his skin as you used it to shove him away.

"Damn whore!" He snarls as he hunches over, pained by the blow you dealt him.

The hammer of your revolver clicked back, a menacing and unfavorable noise to be heard in the dark. "Consider your next move a return to camp, Micah."

Now you had both your guns in his face. A bit much? Perhaps. Though that wasn't a concern now.

"Don't get too excited, O'Driscoll." He warns harshly as he wipes his eyes vigorously. "I'm not done with you." His words echoed with intent akin to the most sick of the population.

Keeping your aim trained on him, you stared as he stumbled out of the forest, grumbling his hate under his breath with each step.

As soon as he disappeared back into camp, you sighed out your relief, slumping with exhaustion. You were in shock, to put it lightly. The adrenaline bringing you down with it.

Straying further into the forest, you found your previous thoughts had left you, left you with nothing except for one.

Arthurs arms firm around you filled you with such a sense of comfort. A way to easily cope with Micah's actions toward you.

A feeling that shouldnt come from the very one who did the opposite for so long.

The whole day had taken a toll on you. The chance you took for peace veered horribly south, you didn't even know what to make of it, were you to say anything?

Would they even care? Believe you? O'Driscoll traitor accuses loyal Van Der Linde member. You shook your head.

Hugging the shotgun tightly, you trudged back and forth as long as you could muster. The fire and liveliness from camp dispeled gradually until it finally became near silent.

The frogs and crickets kept you company through the ensuing hours, an occasional firefly alerting you to its position amongst the trees and bushes every so often.

Needless to say, it was a mistake to sit down against a tree for a break.

♡

P.s.

This one I finally gave in, I couldn't WAIT to get to this chapter, I also had to star David cuz I unfortunately do have daddy issues and appreciate the found family trope way too much, but I tried to keep it minimal.

Just wanted to say I appreciate everyone who reads my stories, I absolutely love writing them despite how long it takes sometimes (cries dies) and there will be more soon, big, big plans.

I also have a little fic out based off a removed gunslinger in rdr2, I thought he was sexy so I couldnt help but write something about him... dont be shy to head over to that one.

A Kinship, of sorts. 🫣

Also, also, plan on a mini series where I write buncha one shot shenanigans with the all Van der Linde members, based off the events in this story, just know I do plan on spoiling you guys, I feel it necessary 😘

Im going through each chapter again, rewriting and adding little tid bits here and there. I also havent fixed the lemoyne raider in valentine mishap.. I had a dream I did or maybe I didn't save my changes ☹️

Much Love, M. <3

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead fanfic #dutch van der linde #rdr

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pink-crayon-princess · 25 days ago

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Idk how to like age regress in like a college dorm and I’m so scared to because society goes wild. I also don’t know how to like tell my boyfriend about this, is there any advice you can give maybe?

Ok I'm so sorry I accidentally deleted my first reply 😭 but luckily I took screenshots so here!

I was blessed to have a situation where I was alone/able to regress frequently and my husband is 100% supportive of my weird little interests ... but here's what I said and did!

For college:

Headphones are your friend!

See if you can find out what your roommate is planning to do on a given night, and/or try to learn their schedule

Nobody questions fun pajamas or stuffies, have as many as you like :)

Keep a small box/bag of little gear with you. If your RAs search drawers, small items such as pacis can easily be concealed in pillows/pillowcases

Even if they did find something, don't sweat it. They've definitely seen worse lol

Bath time/shower time is a great place to be small!

Print and discard coloring sheets; use colored pencils or highlighters

Buy yourself little rewards from Dollar Tree every so often, if you can. It's a great way to treat your little self while still being discreet!

How to explain agere to anyone:

Remember, at the end of the day, you don't owe anyone an explanation. If someone asks you about it, you don't have to go into your whole tragic backstory. Be classy; thank them for their patience if they have encountered you small or think they may do so again. Change the subject. You are in control.

Matthew 9:14 - "Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”"

Philippians 4:8 - "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things."

I hope that this was helpful! Love ya! 🩷🥰🍼

#crayon scribbles #agere #sfw agedre #sfw agere #agedre #age dreaming #age regression #sfw middlespace #how to talk about regression #college agere #coming out of the toy box

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lemotmo · 25 days ago

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Will never not baffle me how they don't understand this yet?

Q. I guess I just don't understand how publicly intentional it is that Oliver has a camera on him everyday and is constantly snapping pictures when he's not filming and yet not a single glimpse of Lou has been found in anything. He's posted pictures of Brad and Brian so it's not a main vs guest thing. It's a clear and obvious choice to deliberately exclude him. There's no other explanation. And it's just so unprofessional and seems so unlike everything we have heard about Oliver.

A. It's not unprofessional. Let's establish that right away. He's not obligated to take pictures of anyone or anything. He does it because he loves it. Therefore he can take the kinds of pictures he desires. It's that simple. He doesn't do it out of obligation. He does it because he genuinely loves to do it. He doesn't owe anyone any kind of picture at all. And I'm sorry, anon, but the fact that he has chosen to include Brad and Brian, and not the other says way more about the other than it does about Oliver. No one ever has anything bad to say about their experience working with this cast. If they are 'excluding' him from things then there's probably a reason. We know that Kenny included him in some stuff last year. We know that Jennifer followed him on Instagram last year. We also know that neither of those things are true this year. That's not because Oliver forbade them from having anything to do with him. That's not because they're scared of evil Buddie fans and the power you all say they have one day, but don't have the next day. None of us knows the actual reasons for the clear distance the cast keeps from him when not filming. But we can make educated guesses. His behavior during the off season was entirely unprofessional. The cameo videos were a gross miscalculation on his part. He also said some troubling things. Chances are none of the cast appreciated or approved of that behavior. Especially considering the way his choices were then used by you all as a weapon against Oliver and Ryan, in particular. Again, we don't know that for sure, but those are probably pretty safe bets.

And this is entirely like Oliver. He has never, outside of an official interview, spoken about or promoted any canon relationship Buck has been involved in. He made is feelings regarding the BuckTaylor relationship very clear without ever saying an actual disparaging word about it. He did it entirely through Instagram and the way he answered certain interview questions. The exact pattern he is following now with his current canon relationship. He is a Buddie shipper. He doesn't hide it. He doesn't fake it. He doesn't apologize for it. And he's not obligated to pretend otherwise. He's not unprofessional. He loves Buck, and he has every right to believe certain things are better for Buck than other things. There's absolutely nothing wrong with his behavior. He doesn't owe you or Lou or any of us, for that matter, any explanation. He takes beautiful pictures. He's insanely talented. I'm just glad he allows us to see them. We have no right to dictate what or who his subject matters should be. And he absolutely doesn't care that you all notice who's not there.

Thank you Nonny! Much appreciated as usual.

Thank you Ali for taking the time to answer this frankly insane ask. I wouldn't even have bothered anymore. I'm so over this.

Nothing more to add here. Everything that needed to be said has been said... for the millionth time. 🙄

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #oliver stark photography shenanigans #insight into 911 fandom & season 8 #BT speculation #T speculation #buddie speculation #L complaints #nonnies galore #not rebloggable for the same old reason #*sigh*

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ishuess · 6 months ago

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With the whole chaos going on, I have a few things to say here..(a neutral perspective) This might not reach the involved individuals but here we go:

Fans fighting Fans: Do any of us realise that the fans which are arguing and fighting, their idols or whoever they r a fan of, are if not best friends, friends atleast civil with each other. So why don't we also follow their footsteps.

Digging out past: In their personal clash of opinions, they start dragging the celeb's past. Do they forget that those celebs r also human first and they can make past mistakes when just like us. I'm sure most young people have had some bad relationships that didn't work out, or hook ups or whatever. They are allowed to have personal lives. How would u like if someone dug out ur past relationship or your body count and presented in public with a possibility that three quarter of it is false or lie. If you can't understand the meaning of the term 'privacy' then atleast try to look up the term 'empathy'.

PR to make good impression: The term PR means 'public relations.' More than good reputation, it works as a barrier between personal life and professional life. Nobody announces their personal life in their work space to their boss. In case of celebs, the audience and the fans are the boss. They have every right to have a PR. So if someone shames a fan for believing in PR stories then I'm sorry to tell u but that's the whole point of PR to make believe. And if you know smth personal about the celeb you don't have the right to sell it on internet. Again the reason is privacy and empathy.

Fans becoming offended when their idols are questioned: Saying this from a neutral perspective, every celeb is asked what they do. Each one of them faces trolls. Even Ishan did face trolls and some of them were big celebs themselves but there is a saying, "Actions speak louder than words." Every starkid faces questions like, what does he/she do? and that they r there because of their family but do you ever see Ananya Pandey or Babil or Arjun Kapoor act like they owe explanation. They just work to prove themselves. Then why do 'certain' fans get worked up. Relax and understand this is the social world where these celebs will have to face such things. Trolling is smth each and every celeb faces and if you keep defending ur idol, it's waste of time. I would suggest that wait for the day ur idol shuts them by their work.

Homophobia and clash of opinions: Assuming people's sexuality and degrading others opinion is also very wrong. Yeah ok u think they r straight while the other thinks they r gay. None of you know the actual answer, only the person in question knows that. Then why would u both argue to prove your point. Sometimes it's not even about gender, it's about the person and thier nature that one falls in love with. So you're free to assume ur opinion but not free to degrade other's opinion and make them guilty about it.

Respecting the boundaries of being a fan: there's a nice and simple way of being a fan- appreciate and accept. Just appreciate whoever you're a fan of and accept that some might not like them. And before shaming the other celeb, think once of your idol will like it or not.

So a simple summary of the situation is

-have empathy and respect boundaries of the celebs.

-take jokes and accept that there is no point in fighting.

-enjoy ur time as a fan without ruining others experience.

-past is past and people change and grow upm

That was my general perspective. You're still free to form opinions but please do it respectfully and peacefully. This is not a battleground. I hope some people find this as an eye opener and if not realise their mistakes but atleast read it with an open mind and consider your actions. Wishing you a good day ahead.

#ishan kishan #indian cricket team #desiblr #cricket #ishman #shubmangill #shubman gill #shubish #shubman x ishan #sara tendulkar

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3-2-whump · 3 months ago

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The Box

A Thomas Costa Backstory, as told by himself. Indented part indicates a flash back. Set during the Key Game era, though I don't know if any of the other flash backs will have any concrete place on the timeline.

Full collection of Thomas Costa Backstories here

TW/CW: slave whump, intimate whumper, blood, whumpee turned whumper (more like whumper, former whumpee), divorce, neglect, death of minor characters mentioned

Khaled had found his box. He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near the file box that held the physical remains of the man he used to be, but Thomas had caught him red-handed, sitting on his bed with his dog tags, his paperwork, and several old photos of him spread out across the bed. Khaled paled, visibly scooting up the bed and away from the contents of the box as he realized he’d been caught.

In hindsight, Thomas was not proud of his initial reaction. He couldn’t just beat the boy without reason, no matter how much he deserved it for directly disobeying him. He was owed an explanation, at least. Once he had calmed down enough, and once the wound from Khaled’s scalp had stopped cascading blood down his face, he decided to try a different approach.

“You know I told you not to go through that box, boy,” he said.

Khaled lowered the moist washcloth from where it was compressed against his head. What used to be a white washcloth was now dyed a splotchy pinkish-red.

“Why did you go through my box?” he asked. He caught Khaled’s face in his hand before the young man could turn his head away. “Why?” he repeated.

“I… thought it was where you were hiding the key, Master.” Khaled’s confession hardly rose above a whisper. He crossed his legs self-consciously in front of him. “I-I just wanted it off, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Thomas shook his head. “Just for that, I’ll keep you in that thing a week longer. I will take if off when I am ready, not when you are,” he grumbled. He took the box in hand and started sweeping the stuff on the bed back into the box.

He paused as he was about to collect a certain picture. It was him, his squad –Callahan, Trémeaux, Robinson, Martinez, Kruger, and Kościelsky –and more importantly, his brother Tony’s team, standing around a crude edifice of water and sand and any bits of refuse they could find to fill in the finer details. In the sand in front of the group someone had scratched ‘Merry Xmas 2002.’

Khaled didn’t miss the involuntary smile on his lips as he remembered the sandman. “What is it, Master?” The unspoken request ‘can I see?’ bubbled just beneath Khaled’s inquisitive eyes.

Thomas passed the photo to Khaled. “We were having a slow day on the base, so some of the boys got together to make a snow man. There wasn’t any snow where we were, of course, so we worked with the next best thing!” He proudly poked at the picture with his index finger. “See the lit cigarette sticking out of his mouth? That was my idea,” he boasted.

Khaled hummed, studying the picture a bit more. He poked at the soldier whose arm was slung around the snowman’s shoulder. “Is that you?” he asked.

“Yeah. Nothing gets past you, huh?” Not that it was hard to tell; Thomas hadn’t changed his physical appearance too drastically over the last twenty years. “Think you can find my brother?”

The corners of Khaled’s eyes scrunched up as he concentrated on the old photo in front of him. It took him about three tries until he gave up. Thomas pointed to a skinny brunette leaning on Ferguson’s back. “That’s him. I know, we look nothing alike,” he said, answering Khaled (and everyone else’s) unasked question. “We had different dads, same mom.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, Master.”

He looked up from the picture to see Khaled’s frown. “Sorry? What do you mean?”

“Did your dad die, like mine?” Khaled asked hesitantly.

“What- Oh, no, Khaled, my dad is alive!” Well, last he checked, anyway. “My parents are just divorced is all. Same goes for Tony’s dad, he divorced and left us too.”

“Fuck your horse races, fuck your little bastard, and fuck you! Fuck this entire family! I am done, Maria, done!” Those were the last words that Thomas’ stepfather uttered before he never saw him again. In the violent deluge of a summer rain, the man he considered his father wrenched off his wedding ring and threw it at his mother’s feet. He then turned his back on her –on him, on Young Tony (Thomas’ brother and the man’s biological son) –turning away from them as if it were nothing to leave his own blood in the hands of ‘a piss-poor excuse of a mother and a self-absorbed monster without a conscience’. The sound of pounding rain muted his retreating steps.

“Oh…” Khaled’s voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” Thomas lied. He gently pried the photo out of his hand and stuck it in the box, finally closing the lid as he rose from the bed to put it back underneath them. He redirected his thoughts from his absent father to the old photo. Only five people in that Christmas photo were still alive now, and none of them were his squad or Tony. Maybe one day he would be willing to tell Khaled about the blast. Maybe he would even be willing to tell him about his overreaction that would send him back stateside, right back into the brood of vipers he had sworn to leave behind. But until then, like every other uncomfortable thing about his past, it was just easier for Thomas to put it in a box, shove it under the bed, and forget about it.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

#whump writing #oc backstory #intimate whumper #whumpee turned whumper #slave whump #tw blood #military whump #neglected childhood whump #divorce whump #that's a tag

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pascaloverx · 1 year ago

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Hit The Road

Chapter Six

previous chapter next chapter

Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story.

Running might not have been the best option, you admit. Or maybe it was the best option, just not for someone who doesn't know where they are. Mystic Falls could easily be Lost Falls. Another terrible idea was stealing a car instead of using your super speed. You have no idea who this car is, you just needed to get away from the Salvatores as quickly as possible. When you locate the city bar you feel like you can relax at least a little. But that doesn't last long, because apparently Damon doesn't understand the notion of you having a moment alone.

"Do you usually run away from other people's houses like you're crazy, or is it just mine?" Damon seems to be angry, which you try to ignore.

"I need a drink, preferably a strong double or triple one." You ask the bartender, ignoring Damon's presence, as honestly, he was the last person you wanted to face right now.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong with you?" Damon questions, arching his eyebrows and staring at you as you drink whatever strong concoction the bartender handed you. You then order a beer from the bartender, who says he'll get it for you. You reach into your pants pocket for payment, and when you're about to pay, Damon is behind the counter. Obviously, he'll do anything to get your attention, including manipulating the bartender to serve tables while he takes care of the bar.

"Damon, could you leave me alone for the next few hours?" You ask, grabbing the beer that Damon is holding out of his hands.

He looks at you in a different way, as if he wants to understand you but you're making it difficult. Before he can say anything, a blonde woman calls his name, and both of you turn to see who it is.

"Does Elena know you're serving other women as a pastime, or is it another dirty secret of Damon Salvatore?" The blonde says with a certain arrogance. You observe her and then turn to look at Damon, who has a mischievous smile on his face.

"Caroline Forbes and her presumptions. You, better than anyone, should know that I don't owe explanations to Elena anymore, just as she doesn't owe me anything. Now, if you're done playing the curious Barbie, you can go back to taking care of your own life." Damon says sarcastically. It seems he has some familiarity with Caroline, whom you imagine is a friend of Elena. You find yourself thinking that maybe it would have been better never to have sought out Damon.

"It's part of my life to ensure that one of my best friends has a decent boyfriend, as much as possible. I don't like that it's you, but if you're going to be, at least be worthy of her." Caroline says. You feel uncomfortable, as if you're a person tainted on the inside. I mean, you had a fling with two brothers, and now you're interfering in the love life of one of them, which doesn't seem right.

"If you claim to be her best friend, you know that she and I are no longer together. Now, it's important to respect each other's choices and boundaries." Damon seems almost sensible saying that, putting Caroline in an awkward position. You simply observe them, thinking that Elena must mean a lot to both of them.

"Look, I don't know you, and I have no idea why you know this guy, but understand that all women are like puzzles to him. Once he's done putting you together, he'll discard you and move on to another game." Caroline warns you. She looks directly at you, as if she wants to seriously warn you; Damon seems a bit upset by what she said. You shake your head as if you don't know what to say. Caroline leaves like a storm about to erupt. Without saying anything, you head towards the exit.

"Are you really going to ignore me?" Damon says, following you after several attempts to get your attention by calling your name. You get into the car, which, by the way, might even be his, and he joins you, taking the passenger seat.

"Do you think we made a mistake getting romantically involved with each other?" You look at Damon, seeking answers in his gaze. The atmosphere in the car becomes tense, laden with the uncertainty of what the shared past might mean for the present.

"Maybe we were a mistake, but you're definitely not a regret for me. Even if you don't remember what you mean to me." Damon says. You don't know how to react.

"Did you know that Stefan and I had an affair?" You ask Damon. You have to make sure he has no idea what you're talking about.

"You told me, right before this all happened. I wasn't happy about it but you know my situation with Elena so I can't criticize you for it." Damon says looking at you with a certain annoyed look. You wonder if he cares about you enough to not want to share you with Stefan.

"What if my destiny is to love your brother?" You ask, unsure if you even want an answer from Damon. The truth is, you don't know who you love, don't know who you truly want – you only know that being close to the Salvatore brothers makes you feel... alive.

"You once told me that your destiny only depended on you." He replies subtly. I guess this situation must be commonplace for him. Have I never truly loved him, or have I loved him too much?

You looked at him as if you understood what he's trying to convey. And then, you realize something is in front of the car. A werewolf, in the middle of the road. It's alone and seems angry. The curious thing is that you didn't notice the werewolf before crashing the car into it. The werewolf gets angry and starts attacking the car with me and Damon inside. You know that a werewolf's bite on a vampire is lethal. So you fear, dying or watching Damon die. The car crash thankfully only caused superficial injuries Damon seems more concerned with seeing if I'm okay with protecting himself. And for a moment you black out, being flooded with yet another vision.

"Can you do it or not?" You ask the mysterious woman in front of you, she looks at you with a look full of doubt.

"Not that I don't understand why you want to erase Damon and Stefan from your head but don't think it's a bit radical?" The woman says looking at you, while you two are in that same cabin in the middle forest.

"Bonnie I just want to know if you can do it or not. I don't need a therapy session, I need my biggest weakness outside of myself." You look honestly exhausted, like you're at your limit.

"There could be consequences if you regain your memory, bad things could happen. Are you sure you want me to do this?" Bonnie asks, holding her mother. You try to think that anything is better to be a hunter who fell in love with two vampires.

"I am sure." You respond as you see the woman pick up an old book from the small table near the cabin's entrance. Everything goes dark after that, you just feel unbearable pain.

Pain makes you regain the consciousness that had been lost. When you wake up, you see blood running down your arm and you feel something burn inside you. Your blurred vision doesn't let you see anything other than Stefan's face. You're relieved to see him but immediately panic when you see your arm completely. You were bitten by a werewolf and worse, Damon is nowhere you can see.

#damon x reader #spotify #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore x reader #tvd angst #tvdu #tvd fanfiction #tvd smut #the vampire diaries #Spotify

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jimraisedmeup · 7 months ago

Text

TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

December 1983 - junior year

Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.

You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."

Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."

Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.

Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile.

You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents.

You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.

Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.

You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.

Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.

"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.

"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.

☾

You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way?

☾

Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other.

Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.

"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."

You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."

"And why not?"

Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"

The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.

"Fine, fine. New question."

"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.

"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"

"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."

The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.

You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover.

"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."

"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."

You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."

Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."

"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"

The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You never noticed?"

"Well… no. He's a douchebag."

The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.

"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"

The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."

He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner.

Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily.

It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.

You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.

And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with.

With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts.

A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.

"You know, I've never driven a car before."

The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.

"Come again?"

"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."

Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously.

"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."

For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word.

You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance?

Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.

But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."

☾

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

☾

"Slow down! Pump the brakes."

"I'm trying!"

"The hell you're not!"

"Stop being an ass! We're fine."

Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."

He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.

If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.

He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.

He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.

What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?

After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.

You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."

"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.

You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"

He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood.

"Well, she has a name now. Brenda."

You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."

A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"

You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.

"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."

If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

He sounded very rude.

You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.

"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"

"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.

Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out.

"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."

"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"

"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."

Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.

"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."

He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."

Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.

"So, girls, tell us about your day."

You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.

"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."

Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"

Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"

You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say.

"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."

Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."

"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."

"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"

You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.

"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.

Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."

"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.

"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."

Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.

"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."

He snorted. "Is that so?"

You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.

"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."

Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"

"Eddie Munson."

Slam.

Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."

"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.

You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.

"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."

☾

When you say it's gonna happen now When exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone

☾

(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

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marchtomydrums · 18 days ago

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Old Habits 2

Y/n POV:

It's been about an hour since my whole world has come crashing down. Well, that's a little dramatic but it feels like my heart is breaking. Before today I never had any doubts about my girlfriends and where their loyalties lay. I never once thought of what my life would be like without them and now it's all I can think about.

What if Billie wanted to be with Ally? What if they all decided I'm not worth the trouble? Maybe I should just cut her some slack. I mean they did have a life before me. I keep going over scenarios in my head over and over again. It isn't until I feel the bed dip that my thoughts stop.

I roll over to see the redhead looking down deep in thought.

“Mina?” I questioned looking up at her.

She smiles at me as she tucks the loose strands of hair behind my ears.

“My sweet little one. I'm so sorry,” she whispered as tears pricked her eyes.

“It's not your fault.” my words come out chopped as I hiccuped from all of the crying.

“Mina..”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“ Do you think I'm overreacting?”

She shakes her head softly “No. I don't. Your feelings are valid. I'm sure walking in on her with someone else was heart-wrenching for you as it would be for any of us.”

I nod. “It was awful. I felt like my heart dropped out of my body.”

“I can't imagine,” she whispered.

“But… I mean she's a friend of yours. Do you do you wish to be with her? Does Billie wish to be with her?”

“I can't answer for Billie although I would imagine the only interest she ever had with Ally was sexual. As for me, I do not wish to be with her in any sort of nature. I am happy with you, and Delia, and Billie. I don't want anyone else.” she says smiling down at me.

I cry a little as I smile up at her.

“Can you hold me?” I asked.

“Of course,” she answers standing to pull back the covers and prop her cane by the nightstand. She crawls into the soft sheets curling up behind me as I turn in her arms my back facing her front. She leans down and kisses me softly behind my ear and then my temple.

“I love you little one. Don't you ever forget it,” she whispered as her strong arms held me as I finally drifted off.

An hour before:

Billie’s POV:

Just as Ally texted me the phone was taken by Cordleia and Mina. They both read over her text with looks of concern. Mina wasn't thrilled at all. The idea of meeting up with Ally was not one that she was entertaining.

“We are not meeting with her,” she says sternly.

“Of course not,” Delia mutters.

“Well, shouldn't we explain to her what is going on?” I asked.

“ We owe her nothing. We all knew the arrangement was simply out of convenience. Why would we meet up with her?” Mina asked losing more patience with me as the conversation continued.

“Well, I mean to explain to her why we will no longer be seeing her,” I added.

“We were never seeing her!” Mina shouts.

“Okay stop it!” Cordelia says holding her hands up between the two of you. She waits a couple of seconds for both of us to stand down.

“Mina if you don't want to see her you don't have to,” Cordelia says looking at the redhead.

“Billie if you feel that you owe Ally some sort of explanation you're more than welcome to meet with her. However this time you know where we all stand. If you sleep with her again I can't promise you there won't be consequences.”

“Are you saying that you would leave me?” I asked shocked by her statement.

Cordelia sighs as she looks over at Mina.

“Yes. I would. I think we all would.”

“The first time was a mistake a second would be a choice. “ Mina chimes in.

“I never said I would sleep with her. I just wanted to catch up. God! I can't believe I'm in trouble! We did this all the time. None of us ever said we were done! I didn't want to hurt y/n I swear but I won't stand here and be treated like a child!”

Mina scoffs as she walks away from me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Upstaires to comfort y/n. You remember her right? Our girlfriend? The one whose heart you broke. “

I sighed looking at Cordelia.

“I never meant to hurt y/n or anyone.”

“And I believe you. However, you feel it necessary to be involved with Ally in some nature whereas we do not. I don’t care if you’re friends with her Billie and while I’m not mad at you the same cannot be said for y/n. She was never a part of our old habits and for all she knew the four of us were exclusive. I’m telling you that if you sleep with her again then there will be a problem. .”

“I’m not sleeping with her!” I shout angrily.

“Okay, so we have nothing to worry about then,” Delia adds before she leaves me standing alone.

I huff as I text Ally back.

“See ya tonight.” I text before I hurry to get ready. There is no reason why I can’t be friends with Ally and I won’t be told what to do.

Hours later I’m ready and headed out the door. I tried to speak with y/n but she didn’t want to talk and hasn’t let Mina out of her sight. I swear that woman baby’s her. They’re both livid that I’m going to dinner with Ally. Cordelia has stood firm on her feelings. She doesn’t care if we’re friends or if we go to dinner but if anything more occurs then we have a problem. I’m not sure why they think I can’t keep my hands to myself but I digress.

I met Ally at her favorite restaurant that we used to all go to during our time together. I walk in about to give the hostess my name when I hear “Billie Dean”. I turn to find the brunette dressed in a stunning red dress and black heels. I smile as I walk over to her and she pecks my cheek.

“Hello, beautiful.”

I blush. “ Hello, Ally.”

We sit. It takes some time for our order to get here and during that time there is a lot of small talk. We discussed how you guys acted and the way Cordelia and Mina treated me. I can tell she’s hurt that Delia and Mina don’t want to see her.

“Well, that’s their choice.” She says clearing her throat.

“So drinks?” She asked.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Awe come on…just a couple. For old time's sake.” She says with a wink. I smiled and nodded my head.

The next morning I wake up with my head pounding and my eyes blurry. I look around the room trying to piece together the night before. I noticed the lack of clothes on my body and the brunette lying beside me.

“Shit,” I mutter.

I try quietly to get out of bed and slip my clothes back on. I have no memory of last night but I don’t think I did anything. Ally and I were just laughing and chatting it up at the restaurant and then everything else is blank.

“I’ve got to get home.”

Of course, as soon as I enter the house I see the three of you sitting at the table. I look at y/n with her puffy red eyes and she looks pitiful. Before I can speak to you the cold voice of Wilhelmina hits me.

“Where were you?” She asked.

“I was with Ally.”

“So it seems. And how did that go?”

“Just ask me what you want to ask me Venny?!”

“Did you fuck her?”

“No… I don’t think so.”

You and Cordelia’s heads shot up.

“What?” Cordelia asked.

“You don’t think so?” Mina adds.

“I can’t remember much. I had some drinks but after that everything was hazy. “

“You shouldn’t have gone in the first place!” Mina shouts.

“You cannot tell me what to do!”

Cordelia gets up and reaches out for me. “Let me see your hands.” She says.

“What?”

“Your hands.”

I slowly rest my hands in hers and she gasped.

Cordelia’s POV:

The moment our hands meet the gift of sight shows me Billie Dean and Ally in the throes of passion. The sight sends a crack in my heart especially since this is the second time the sight has shown me a cheating partner.

Tears slipped my closed eyes as I whispered “Get out.”

“What?” Billie says.

“She slept with Ally. I saw them.” I say telling y/n and Mina. Mina growls low as she consoles y/n. The poor girl has cried for hours and I’m not sure how she has any tears left.

“Cordelia,” Billie whispers.

“I swear I don't remember anything.” she cries.

“Get. Put.” I said sternly.

“We warned you, Billie,” Mina adds.

The blonde nods her head as tears fill her eyes. “Please just let me grab a few things.”

I nod as I join Mina to comfort y/n. We look at each other silently as tears fill our eyes. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is watch Billie Dean walk out that door and my heart aches as if she’s dead and gone.

Ally’s POV:

I chuckled as I listened to Billie rushing to get back home. It won’t matter. We had sex last night. Cordelia will see and they will leave her. This plan will work. It hasn’t been easy but Billie Dean is the easiest phase of this plan. The other two will be a lot harder to fool. A date rape drug can only do so much ya know. But I’m patient and I can wait. I will get them all back one by one and take back what y/n stole from me.

#lgbtq #wlw #writing #fiction #television #cordelia goode x reader #billie dean x reader #wilhelmina venable x reader #american horror story #ally mayfair x reader #tw r4p3

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