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unholyhelbig · 3 months

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Can we have the last chapter of oversight??

Title: The Oversight [Part 7/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7200

Warnings: Blood, (a lot of blood) Gun violence, childhood trauma, a shoot out, murder, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: This is it!! I wanted to thank everyone so beyond much for sticking with this story. I do suck at endings, so I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations (I'm also writing this after the worst case of covid I've ever had). I'm more than happy to continue reader and Nat's story in some oneshots if you want to request some!]

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Sheets of warm spring rain soaked into your clothes. Despite its tepid temperature, you were chilled to the bone. By the time you had taken Ronnie from her car seat in the back and coaxed a drowsy Darcy from the front seat, there was no dry part of you. A light wind had picked up and you were positive that your skin was pale, cold. Your lips are blue and shaking. It felt right to knock.

It was Yelena who answered the door, and she did so sparingly. It was just a crack at first, letting out a stream of golden light that caught the storm in its clutches. Then it was flung open entirely, and you had to squint against the brightness.

Darcy had a good grip on Ronnie’s hand, blinking away the last of her exhaustion as she started into the massive foyer and the house that was built around it. Yelena wore a bubblegum pink robe that was fuzzy. It looked warm. Her collarbone was littered in a smattering of blue and purple bruises. She dragged the two ends together to cover her skin.

“Y/n, it’s late.”

You were well aware of what time it was. This was Yelena’s odd way of asking if you were okay. She stepped to the side and allowed the three of you to enter, sopping wet. That was a good sign. Despite her abrasiveness, Natasha’s sister had more than one soft spot. One was for Kate, another for you, and even a small one for Clint.

“Holy shit…” Darcy whispered.

“It’s impressive, no?”

Yelena frowned, glancing up to the second level. The hall light flicked on, and you knew that Natasha had stirred. You’d awoken the dragon, not something that you were against doing. It felt stupid to have the worry of Ronnie being here in the back of your mind. This was an emergency situation.

Your heart started to pound faster and you shivered into yourself when she appeared at the top of the stairs. There was worry in her fern-colored stare. Why were you there? Why was your misfit family with you? It was late.

None of those questions came with Natasha, however. Instead, she wrapped you in her warm embrace. Your skin was frigid against her own, damp with the brutal attention of the storm. She had no objections to letting you sink into her embrace, wetting her pajamas.

“Dorogaya, chto sluchilos'?”

You pulled back, her fingers still digging into your waist. Yelena had been teaching you Russian, though you only picked up on a few words a time, you understood exactly the tone of her voice. “Carol… she was waiting for me at home.”

A hardness returned to her stare as she glanced at Ronnie who was overly interested in the tile pattern of the floor, and Darcy who was trying to work the pressure from her head with small touches to her nose.

“Did she hurt you?” her voice was a low growl “any of you?”

You shook your head. “Drugged Darcy, but it seems to be wearing off. Ronnie is alright. Carol said she was a friend and shit, Nat, I taught her about stranger danger, but she came straight to the door. I didn’t prepare her for anything like that.”

Yelena had wandered in her silent, cat-like way. She seemed to spawn back into the foyer with warm towels that felt like heaven against your skin. Your fingers were numb along with your emotions. Carol had entered your home. She entered your home.

This fact seemed to sink into Natasha’s bones. While she still held a strong grip on your shoulders there was a certain type of anger that edged through her from top to bottom. A storm brewed behind her eyes and threatened to shatter her cool confidence.

“Lena,” the word broke against her tongue “Will you please take Ronnie and Darcy to a guest room upstairs. I’m sure they’re exhausted.”

There was no objection from any party. You were once again left alone with Natasha, a charged feeling in the air that pulled the two of you together. She pressed her forehead against yours, breath warm on your collarbone.

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Nat,”

“I am. I don’t have another choice. There are clear lines that can’t be crossed and she just cut every single one of them.” Natasha hurriedly pushed strands of wet hair behind your ears, clearing your eyes. “She did this as a statement.”

“And if it’s a trap?”

“It most certainly is, darling, but that won’t stop us from walking into it.”

Very carefully, you thought about your next words, your next actions. It was easy to throw Natasha off, despite her resolute standing when she made a final decision. You felt her body pressed against yours, innate in its comfort and warmth. It would make you ache if she pulled away.

The words came out as a whisper “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

She attempted to step back, but your hands were tight against the silk of her robe. You held her there and she didn’t resist the tension. It was the first time you had really studied your own hands. They were different, entirely so, from those that serviced strangers at the diner.

There were soft bubblegum pink scars on your palms, and harder, darker ones on your knuckles from the countless hours you’d leaned into the pain of each punch. Natasha’s shoulder against the sand-filled bag as she stood against the strength you mustered.

A bruise from the last time you’d entered the shooting range bubbled under the surface of your palm, and it was this that Natasha stared at the hardest as you gripped her with an intensity she had yet to see.

“Did I ever tell you about my second foster father?” You asked, having released your hold, but keeping your hand splayed on her chest. You weren’t sure if you were holding her steady, or yourself. She shook her head. “Deputy Sheriff Edwards. He was a high school quarterback in Minnesota before he blew out his knee and would never let you forget it.

“And mostly… mostly he was a good guy. But, he worked long hours and had a mean streak that would show itself after a beer or two. If he had more, it was worse. He’d stumble in and find one of us kids to go out for shooting practice in the acreage behind the house.”

Natasha swallowed thickly and clenched her eyes shut for a moment. She hadn’t asked you about your familiarity with a gun and considered it a small blessing that you didn’t’ shy away from the weapon. Not only that, but you were quite nearly an expert shot once you got over the nervous familiarization.

“Locking the bedroom door, it worked sometimes, but not always. I had to pick and choose the nights when I wasn’t up for it. Usually in the winter. Minnesota gets cold, below freezing when the sun goes down behind the horizon. So cold that it burns your lungs to breathe, and you have to force your eyes open.

“Deputy Sheriff Edwards, when he couldn’t have me, he would go for my foster brother Andrew. I could hear the pistol going off, over and over again for hours. There was a distinct change in sound when the bullet actually hit the tin cans and it was… that night it was scarce. When you missed- when you missed, he got angrier.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath and pressed her forehead against yours. She was impossibly comforting, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and bury your nose in the small of her neck to stave off the cold. But you had to make her understand that you could handle this.

“That night, Andrew missed one too many cans and each shot was pockmarked by a hit to the temple. It was right outside my bedroom window, and the snow, the snow makes everything so much louder.” It was you that pulled in a desperate breath this time, greedy and hungry “a boy can only take so much before he aims the gun at something other than a can and pulls the trigger.”

She had reached up and used her thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t know you shed, spreading it against your cheek. “Malysh, I can’t bare to put you through more pain.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” you whispered back, reaching up and wrapping your fingers gently around her wrist. “Whether you like it or not, Nat, you’ve spent the last six months training me to be the protector that you’ve needed. It would be a crime not to have me by your side through this, after she came into my home and threatened my family. This anger, this rage, will do nothing but serve us.”

Natasha let out a watery chuckle, “alright, Summer Sentient, stay on my six.”

There was a shed at the edge of Natasha’s large property that you rarely entered. There were too many memories attached to the location. The first time you had opened the door and clocked the coloring of the floor and the coolness of the structure, you knew that it wasn’t a place you wanted to return often.

When you had first stirred months ago with your arms tied behind your back, your mouth fuzzy and tasting of blood- it was here that they had taken you. Through your exhaustive haze, you figured it was a larger place, a storage unit or even an airplane hanger at the edge of a runway. Instead, it was a simple one-room shed that was kept ice cold and made to look infinite through mental manipulation and large intense lights.

Kate Bishop seemed to sense your simple unease and moved to help your fumbling fingers with the gun holster that was secured around your chest. Like always, Natasha organized a united front and a pep talk before going into a situation that none of you could truly prepare for.

“It’s going to be okay, you know” Kate murmured after she fastened the buckle, clapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Natasha, on Yelena as the two of them spoke in hushed voices near a small counter that you hadn’t realized was there in the dark.

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Like an open book. It’s obvious how much you care for one another, and nothing is obvious with this family.” Kate moved to the other side of you, you tracked her with your eyes. Clint, in turn, watched the two of you interact from his perched spot near the far wall. “It took two years for Yelena to show any type of affection towards me.”

“Jesus Christ, I know she’s stoic, but shit.”

“Shit is right. I was head over heels for her within the first week. Mind you, I was suffering severe trauma and thrown into something much beyond myself. But I chipped away at her overtime, wore her down until she was comfortable enough telling me what she feels. But with the Romanoff’s, it’s not just about what they feel. It’s how they feel.”

You lifted both of your eyebrows at her. Kate handed you the jacket that was draped over a nearby chair, you toyed with it in your hands, moved your fingers over the brass buttons. It was much too warm in here to put on yet.

“Natasha is one of the scariest people I have ever met and It’s not because of her dripping ledger. It has everything to do with how much she cares. And she cares about you, y/n. It’s why she’s so reluctant to bring you along to something like this. To the end.”

“Thank you, Kate. For leading me through all of this.”

“Anytime, y/n. Can’t have you dying on us, can we?”

The plan was simple; there was no plan. A deal was supposed to met in a quick and clean way. Much like the restaurant, Natasha just needed you to simply be there to back her up. There was neutral ground at the edge of the shipyard that was far away enough from the unassuming population. Carol had agreed to meet there; tentatively.

There was something so civil and political about a business that was saturated in black sticky blood. You had a jarring feeling that tonight would be it for you, the moment of no return. Once you entered in a united front behind Natasha, your life would never be the same.

You didn’t want it to be.

Natasha Romanoff drove you absolutely wild, but had a way of calming that storm all the same. Though she’d never allow it, you would take bullets for her. But, you’d also take bullets for the little girl that you struggled to confront now.

The leather binding against your chest suddenly felt too stuffy. You’d often hid it behind the guise of a jacket or slid it into your glovebox before you trudged up the rickety stairs to your apartment. Now it was hugged as tightly as Kate could get it, pinching the fabric of your shirt.

Ronnie had looked up from the book she’d curled up with at the end of the sofa. She stared at it with quiet eyes. Everything she did was quiet but this time it felt more judge mental than usual. Natasha sidled up behind you, one ringed hand pressing calmly into the small of your back.

“Remember what I told you on the Ferris Wheel?” Natasha asked.

“She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

“Mm,” Natasha gave you a soft kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I know that look. She wants to talk.”

The mafia boss gave you a little shove forward before making herself comfortable leaning against the doorframe that you had just vacated. She was begrudgingly right. Veronica had scooted over deliberately and given you room next to her.

Ronnie allowed you to get comfortable next to her, running her small fingers over the leather of the holster. You stopped her before she could reach the sheathed weapon, gently lowering both of your hands to your lap.

“Natasha?”

The woman stood up straighter, looking into the expectant eyes of your daughter. She patted the empty seat on the other side of her and you watched as your girlfriend struggled not to flounder under the weight of the request. Eventually she joined the two of you on the couch, nervously twisting the closest ring around her finger.

“I’m not stupid” Ronnie said.

You frowned “No one said you were stupid, baby.”

Your daughter was glowering at you. It took years to read her facial expressions, but the one that was on her features now was loud and clear. “You can’t come home with bruises like that and expect me not to notice.”

You blinked at her dumbly. Yes, kids were perceptive, Ronnie more than others. But no part of you wanted to expose you to the life you’d been thrown in. Guilt was weighing down Natasha’s shoulders, she glanced at you sheepishly.

“You weren’t supposed to join the mob. I know why you did it, though.”

Good god, she was smart. Smarter than you’d ever give her credit for. Everyone wants to believe that their child is special but there was a certain pride in your chest that rivaled your fear. She pulled her little hand from yours and placed it on the spine of the book.

She seemed to lose interest in you altogether and turned her attention to Natasha. “Don’t let her get hurt.”

“I…Are you giving me the shovel talk?”

“I don’t know what that means, just make sure my mom’s okay.”

Natasha swallowed the dryness in her mouth, it was nearly audible. “You don’t have to worry about that, kid. I promise.”

There was an innate fear coiled in the center of your stomach, and the cacophony of footfalls against weathered docks did nothing to ease your pitfall of feelings. Clint towered over you in height, walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to ward off the chill of the summer wind.

Kate and Yelena stalked behind you both, their shoulders hunched, their conversation a hushed whisper. Six docks altogether led into one hexagon platform, that at one point, must have held a fair much like the one you attended in the early summer.

From the other stretch of docking came five others. Their silhouettes were fuzzy, black against the night sky. Carol held herself with a confidence that rivaled Natasha’s. You could make out Monica amongst the crowd, a man that you’d seen around town that you were sure went by the name Fury; particular to his deeply embedded rage.

A circle of wood in the center of the land stood between the two groups like a buffer. Hands were on guns, puffs of air streaming into the lone portlights drilled into soft wood. The scent of the sea itself seemed to assuage you into flexing your fingers, the salt in the air made everything feel filmy and frigid.

It was Carol who spoke first. Her voice was carried by the wind. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to call a meeting like this.”

“You violate my trust as if it’s nothing Miss Danvers. It’s clear you wanted to invoke something other than a slap on the wrist.”

“Well, there’s been talk around town that you’ve become smitten with your little pet project. Forgive me for wanting to test the theory myself. If the big bad Romanoff sisters are going soft, don’t you think I should know about it?”

Yelena shifted behind you and in turn, so did Monica. No one reached for their weapon, though you itched from the inside out. Natasha even lift an eyebrow at the statement.

“You wanted to discuss the Maroni property. I’m willing to sell, but only with the proper conditions.”

Clint had sat you down a few weeks after your first excursion. The two of you sat at the end of the very diner that you had quit. You never really tried the food but could stomach the fries- even admit to yourself that they were the best in town for their price point. The Maroni property was nothing more than a vacant lot, but it held more than that. It would make Carol the owner of 60% of the town instead of the meager 50% that split everything equally.

If there was any objection to her offer, no one would show it. Peace of mind would not be worth giving up her hold, but you were. Yelena could kick her frustrations out at home later, Clint and Kate were none the wiser to do anything but trust blindly; and you were right there with them.

“And what conditions are those?”

“The same conditions our parents have abided by all these years. There’s an honor in what we do and what we control and when you start crossing lines like the ones you did last night, you pour gasoline on an already raging fire.”

Carol tasked and took a step forward. This time the handle of your gun was in your palm. You held your stance. “So poetic, Natasha. You have been since grade school. I’ll take the land, but you’re mistaken if you think I’ll pay full price.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, her eyes darting to the rolling darkness of the sea. The waves were crashing violently against the wooden support beams. There were whitecaps miles from the shore and a storm was brewing that you could almost taste.

“Seventy-five. I won’t go any lower.”

“Alright, Seventy-five.”

Carol stuck her hand out over the circular center of the docks. It was a show of good faith, but your palm grew slick with sweat. You watched her with more care than you ever have before. Clint was rigid with tension, and you could practically hear Kate breathe nervously behind you.

Eventually, Natasha took the woman’s hand. She held it for a moment before leaning closer, whispering something that you couldn’t’ hear over the screeching of the waves. You could, however, see Carols face shaded by the port lights. The golden yellow color enveloped the stark coldness in her stare, the anger that flashed behind hazel irises.

When the gunshot sounded, Natasha’s back was to Carol and those who flanked her sides. It was such a quiet and muted sound that made your ears ring, but it was also a familiar sound. One that flashed back to that snowy night in Minnesota, the spray of pulpy blood on the startlingly white snow.

When Andrew had pulled the trigger, he looked Sheriff Deputy Edwards in the eyes and you had always wondered if the fear cut through the haze of alcohol that night. The split second where the bullet left the chamber, was there penance to be made? He’d dropped to his knees and let out a choking sound that you heard through the paned glass windows.

There wasn’t a wall of insulation, and wood, and glass to garble the sound of the gunshot that rang out tonight. The waves seemed to swallow up your own scream and the commotion that stretched into being.

Carol had waited until Natasha broke the handshake and turned away before she fired her weapon. Something so strong and ever-present was dropped to the sun-bleached wood in a matter of moments. Natasha didn’t make a sound.

“Get down!” Clint yelled next to you.

You caught the anger in Monica’s stare, the way that Carol had moved her target from Natasha, directly to you. At this specific point, with Natasha crumpled at your feet and the woman who had pulled the trigger sneering at you, was when something snapped within you.

A good shot, you had always been a good shot. Not only that, but you’d been efficient too. Clint had given up trying to drag you away and instead made quick work of those that were backing Carol. Kate and Yelena were gone; in the throws of darkness, into hand to hand combat. It left you alone with the woman that made everyone cower in fear.

Natasha’s blood had sopped onto your shoes. Tears threatened to well up in your eyes. She wasn’t breathing. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She had curled into herself and hidden her face from you and while you wanted to pull her into your arms at this very moment; that wasn’t possible.

An ongoing war was raging around you. Gunfire and screaming, and oddly enough, the pungent scent of fire. Carol watched, confident in her protection. She smiled at you, a wolfish and inhuman grin.

“Now, you can’t tell me this hasn’t changed your perspective.” She said, sweeping her arms out as if this were her kingdom- as if this chaos, this reign of gunfire and screams amongst the people you loved, was what she wanted all along.

“It has,” you raised your gun, pointing it directly to her chest. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I just watched you shoot a woman in the back. What’s noble about that?”

She cackled “Noble? That’s the problem with you Romanoff’s, there is nothing noble about this business. To win, you have to play dirty. To win you can’t be afraid to take what you want, and I can’t exactly do that through handshakes and good will. Can I?”

“I suppose not, but how are they supposed to trust you, hm? All of those you’ve promised the world to, the ones fighting for your wellbeing as we speak?”

“I would never betray them.”

“Oh, now, I don’t believe that.”

She frowned at you and readjusted her hold on her gun. In any other world, she would have fired her gun by now, but there was something deep within Carol that had been curious about you. About how Natasha seemed to soften around your presence. Still, she didn’t understand, but she wanted it all the same.

Her finger adjusted on the trigger. You watched every movement she made. There was another, calmer, war in her mind. She could kill you right here if she wanted to, but you couldn’t tell if she did or not.

Natasha let out a wounded noise at your feet; a wet choking sound as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Carol lifted both eyebrows and glanced down at her. “You can save her or kill me. I don’t think you’re quick enough to do both.”

Kate let out a guttural scream from further down the dock that was followed by two more blows and flashes from a gun. Most of Carols lackeys had been incapacitated in one way or another. You clocked Clint’s trembling form as he kneeled between two dark masses. You couldn’t see Yelena, couldn’t’ even hear her, but she leaned into her silence, her rage.

By the time your eyes had met with Carol’s once more, she had made her choice. She pressed further down on the trigger, and in your blind edge of confidence you fired first. Both bullets were aimed at her stomach, and both hit their mark before her single shot found it’s way to your shoulder.

The pain shot through your arm, down the numbness of your fingers. A deep sound escaped the back of your throat. The force of the blast nearly brought you to your knees. Nearly. You’d felt the heat of the bullet rip through the gore of your shoulder- enter and exit in a clean way that would hiss in pain later, but it was no match for the adrenaline.

Carol let out a groan, one that bubbled with pain. You kicked her weapon away from her, letting it slide against the wooden dock. She blinked up at you dumbly, her hands pressing against the slowly growing crimson spot in the center of her stomach.

The color dripped from the wound on your shoulder, over the silver of the casing. A singular drop of red succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed against the smooth expanse of Carol’s collarbone. When she grinned, her teeth were stained with rust.

“Tell me, Carol, what do you see?” You pulled back the hammer, ignoring her sloppy chuckles and the frothy blood that foamed past her lips. “A broken waitress, or a trained killer?”

“Now you’re getting it…” she swallowed thickly, trying to quell the pain “It’s all about perspective.”

You pulled the trigger for a third, and final time that night. You were so trusting in your aim that you refused to look when you administered the final blow. Her head dropped to the side, the bullet finding it’s way right between her eyes.

Silence seemed to fall over the docks. You could hear the crashing of the waves and the seagulls that circled above at the scent of shed blood. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the gun you wielded was dropped to the dock.

She’d been killed so easily. This big, hulking demon that loomed over the town, and over your life. It took nothing but a rage-filled trigger pull to end it all. Your heart was in your throat, blood rushing past your ears.

And then there was Natasha.

Natasha had shifted onto her back, her hand outstretched in your direction. You could hear the painful wheeze in each breath. Her skin was pale, a bloom of red at the corner of her lip. You wanted to kiss it away, to pull her as close as possible, but you were afraid to move her.

Your knees dug into the coarse wood, your palm finding purchase on her cheek. “Nat, baby, I need you to stay awake, okay?”

“The stars, you can see them so well out here.”

You frowned, glancing up at the velvety blue sky. The constellations were bright, making little pictures of lions, and archers, and long stretches of water. It was hard to see them with the perpetual glow of the city. But out here, just like the mansion, they made a map.

“Yeah, baby, you can.” You reached blindly for her hand. It was cold. “You can’t go to sleep. Just keep looking at the stars, for me. Clint! Lena!”

Your voice broke on the second call. Your face was damp with tears as you kept track of Natasha’s stunted breathing, and the tight grip she still held you with. She refused to let you go, and you did the same, pressing the warmth of your lips to her white knuckles.

Yelena was by your side. She was pale and shaking herself. There was a gash above her eye, dripping blood and drying against her cheek. There was a split in her lip, a forming bruise under her chin and against the length of her neck.

“ne ostavlyay menya, sestra. Ty sil'neye etogo. Drat'sya.”

“Should we call an ambulance?”

“No, no hospital.” Yelena shook her head “we do this on our own, just like we always have.”

Your fingers were caked in blood, a dried brown color that was ugly against the beauty of your shared bedroom with Natasha. You wanted to scrub them clean, watch as the water was tinted a toxic orange before it circled the drain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

A glass of water was set on the small table next to you, and you fought back the urge to startle. You hadn’t heard anyone enter. There was a familiar spiced scent to Darcy that you picked up on before registering her presence. She nudged the glass closer to you and lowered herself into the other chair.

“You should really let Yelena look at that shoulder.” She said.

“It’s fine.”

You picked up the glass and considered swallowing down some of the room temperature water, but thought better of it. You held onto it because you could. It grounded you, the cloudy glass stained with coppery fingerprints.

“The news… they’re saying that a wealthy businesswoman snapped. Allegedly, she lured her employees down to the docks and killed them all before turning the gun on herself.”

“Tragic.” This time you did take a swallow of the water before setting it on the table.

Darcy watched you carefully. She wasn’t being judgmental, or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. Her eyes were still darkened with exhaustion but filled with a deep kind of worry. She hesitated, moving to put her hand on your knee, but thinking better of it.

Instead, she directed her attention to Natasha’s unconscious form on the bed. Yelena had called in a private doctor, stubborn in her efforts. He worked mostly alone, and had hushed conversation with those in the room that could comprehend better than you could in your fuzzy state.

Kate had attempted to patch you up, but you pulled away with enough intensity for her to focus on licking her own wounds. Natasha was stable, she was alive. They weren’t sure if she would make it through the night- but you’d remain by her side until they were sure.

“I can’t lose her,”

The admission was whispered and shattered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of Natasha not pulling through. She was the first person you’d met in years that not only accepted you, but pushed you to be a better version of yourself. She had a softness for Ronnie, a commanding nature to her presence.

Darcy cracked a small smile, “leave it to you to fall in love with a loan shark that has a pension for bullets. Something tells me that’s she’s more stubborn than even you. And if that’s the case, then she’ll make it.”

You reached out and grasped Darcy’s hand, allowing her to ground you. Pain ripped through your shoulder, the bandage that you had allowed Kate to apply was dotted with the wounds efforts to gush. Still, you squeezed as hard as you could manage, listening to the heart monitor that hummed in time with the grandfather clock in the corner.

She stayed with you while you fought to stave off sleep. At one point, Clint came in with a tray of food that lay mostly untouched on the dresser. Your eyes burned as you stared at the simple rise and fall of her chest, both feet planted on the floor.

Sixteen hours had passed. You’d paced the room, and at one point, finally allowed someone to address your wounds. It throbbed in time with your heart, which in-turn, mirrored Natasha’s. It was hour twenty when you saw any sign of life, and you nearly missed it, the fluttering of her eyes as they adjusted to the sun streaming into the room.

You’d rolled your head back, trying to quell the stiffness of your neck, the hushed growl escaped your lips. “Oh… fuck.”

“That’s a beautiful sound.”

To hell with your aching body. Natasha’s voice was so meek that you’d nearly missed it altogether. You were treated with a startling blast of green color. She stared at you inquisitively, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. You were quicker than her in this state, using your palm against her chest to gently force her back onto the mattress.

“Don’t try to move,”

“I don’t do well with orders, y/n.”

“God damn it, I know.”

She gave you a small smile at this, but allowed you to coax her back into a laying position. She let out a protest of pain as you placed your ear flush against her chest, assuring that this was real, that her heart was beating strong and consistently. And it was, it really was.

Natasha chuckled, and worked her hand through your hair. “It’s okay, Zaychik. I’m alright.”

“Nat, you were shot in the back twice. It’s going to be a long road to recovery. You’re lucky that it didn’t shatter your spine, hell you could have lost the ability to walk altogether-“

She cut you off, grabbing your chin and leading your lips to hers. She tasted of blood, of the slightest bit of antiseptic and artificial cherries. She tasted like home. You fretted to pull away, knowing that she had kissed you to ultimately shut you up, but really, did that matter?

Natasha frowned into the kiss and pulled away, her fingers had found the bandage on your shoulder, running across the cross section where your skin met gauze. “You’re hurt. She hurt you.”

“She got a good shot in but had terrible aim. Nothing but a flesh wound.”

“Flesh wounds can be dangerous, Malysh.”

“Mm, so they can.” A few moments passed, your forehead pressed against hers, happy to be in her presence. “What did you say to Carol… right before she…”

Natasha let out a deep sigh and winced at the exhalation. She laid her head on the pillow and glowered at the painted ceiling above you both. You remembered staring up at it after Natasha had exhausted you on more than one occasion. Right now, she was trying to find the words, just like you had tried so desperately to find your solace.

“I threatened her family the way she threatened mine. I thought better of her, I suppose, than to shoot a woman in the back. Though, I would have done the same with the threats I laid out. I just needed to be sure that she wouldn’t… couldn’t hurt you… Ronnie.”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“Maybe not the Danvers family, but there are more just lurking in the shadows waiting for their chance to swoop in. They’re scared now, I’m sure. But fear only goes so far.”

“I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me, of course.” You tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, careful of her wounds. “I don’t care if it’s the Russo’s, or the Sarkissian’s, or any other psycho family that tries to take your power away from you. They’ll have to go through me.”

Natasha chuckled, “Alright, quickdraw, don’t get too cocky. We’ll lay low for a little bit. Heal. Then we can talk about the future.”

Somehow, that was enough for you. Natasha waking up, speaking and smiling, and laughing would always be enough for you.

“Drop the gun,” Kate’s voice was shaking, her hands outstretching in front of her in the ultimate sign of surrender. She looked vulnerable, the sun beating down on her shoulders and her stormy eyes catching the reflection of the water. “I’m unarmed, this isn’t cool, man.”

Her protests didn’t’ seem to matter one bit. Cooper pumped the front end of his gun and aimed the ice cold water directly at Kate’s stomach. His action was a silent call to the brigade of children that ascended on her; some carrying water guns like Coop, and others nailing her with neon colored balloons.

“Ah, the inhumanity!” She fell to the grass, scooping Ronnie up in the process. “Shield me, kid!”

You watched the girl with fondness, fighting back until the end. Clint chuckled behind you, flipping the burgers that had browned evenly on one side. The scent was intoxicating, and though you wouldn’t’ admit your hunger outright; your mouth was watering.

Yelena had ascended on the situation, taking a super soaker and dousing the clan that was attacking, and winning, Kate. She tucked Ronnie under her arm like a football and started to dash away towards the fence, out of earshot.

Clint’s wife, Laura, was pouring a glass of lemonade for Darcy. The two of them watched the scene from poolside chairs with as much amusement as you carried. They spoke with smiles on their faces, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day.

Warm arms wrapped around your midsection, a chin resting on your shoulder. The scent of sunscreen filled your lungs. You had always felt innate safety in Natasha’s embrace. She kissed behind your ear once, and then the side of your neck.

“She’s good with them.” Natasha purred.

“I think it’s because she’s a kid at heart.”

“And you let her protect your assets?” Clint tsked as he loaded the burgers onto a nearby plate. “Seriously, without Yelena training her I never would have taken the safety off her gun.”

“I can hear you!” Kate called back, shifting Ronnie to her other hip. “They are being so rude. I’m more than capable of being a degenerate.”

“Degenerate,” Yelena scoffed “Kate Bishop, you’ve invented the word.”

You shook your head, turning in Natasha’s arms before you draped your own over her shoulders. She wore that same black bikini that she had on when she proclaimed your new rank in her little empire. It seemed so long ago- and she was certainly marred with new markings to prove this. Your fingers tracing gently over the healed scars on her stomach.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers, “Thank you for this.”

“Mm,” She hummed into the embrace “For what, detka?”

You deepened the embrace, whispering against her “resolution.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Katelena #Marvel #Mafia au

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seeingivy · 8 months

Text

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.”

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.”

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched.

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice.

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album.

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing.

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay.

erwin: Call me ASAP.

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world.

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year.

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour.

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi.

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles.

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.”

“Paparazzi? Why are-?”

“Er-eren.”

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?”

“Y-yes.”

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?”

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying.

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?”

“H-here.”

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you.

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.”

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding.

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead.

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone.

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder.

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess.

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry.

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore.

“Y/N.”

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision.

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken.

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay.

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors.

“D-did you tell Eren?”

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.”

“Lana.”

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw.

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?”

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I”

“Please don’t thank me. I just-”

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned.

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” you respond.

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.”

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face.

“It was a PR thing.”

She snorts.

“Your managers must hate you.”

“I’m starting to think they just might.”

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.”

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too.

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia.

“I’m sorry.” you respond.

“For?”

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate.

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles.

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.”

“So he locked you out?”

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds.

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-”

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year.

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile.

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.”

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-”

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.”

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.”

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off.

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.”

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.”

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-”

“Follow rules?”

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off.

“Fuck.”

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.”

“Please. I’d love to hear it.”

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air.

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.”

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on.

“Friends?”

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.”

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren.

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating?

“We’re here.”

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own.

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one.

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch.

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern.

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana.

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-”

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond.

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that.

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone.

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-”

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-”

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice.

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-”

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to.

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says.

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin.

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ”

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile.

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.”

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.”

“And you’re-”

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance.

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“Eat shit, Lana.”

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours.

“I like her.” you whisper.

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer.

“Eren.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-”

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so-

So familiar that he feels like home.

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out.

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?”

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together.

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips.

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-”

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?”

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.”

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk.

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks.

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours.

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching.

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out.

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one.

He’s the same as you left him.

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were.

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing.

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side.

“Y/N.”

“I was joking!”

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel.

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?”

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger.

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye.

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at.

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Lana dating?”

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning.

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-”

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.”

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.”

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing.

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-”

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-”

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.”

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still.

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-”

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him.

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-”

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths.

“Eren.”

“Hm.”

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?”

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.”

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look.

“Drop it, Y/N.”

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-”

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.”

“Eren.”

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.”

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now.

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.”

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job.

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.”

“You hate Fruits Basket.”

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.”

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat.

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection.

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe.

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear?

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words.

“Is he okay?”

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?”

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired.

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?”

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.”

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead.

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles.

“Eren.”

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?”

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand.

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.”

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.”

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks.

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.”

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again.

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-”

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically.

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.”

“Oh.”

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence?

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall.

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say?

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-”

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him.

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?”

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks.

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-”

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.”

“Y/N.”

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-”

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-”

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-”

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it.

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms.

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers.

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back.

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things.

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other.

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties.

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too.

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him.

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate.

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him.

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.)

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes.

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again.

“Yo.”

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you.

“Hi Con.”

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?”

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning.

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard.

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath,

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back.

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again.

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification.

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone.

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

Fucking liar.

next part linked here

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golbrocklovely · 7 months

Text

the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter twenty-three

A/N: it took me a whole year to write this next chapter, and i am so sorry about that. i can't make any promises as to when the next chapter will come out, but i promise i'm seeing this story thru. mark my words on that. hopefully this long ass chapter makes up for the long ass wait lol lmk what you think and i'll see you guys much sooner than a year !!

story description

trigger warning: angst, cursing, mentions of abuse, SMUT, cliffhanger (wow i'm the worse for this lol)

word count: 7320

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hard to get to sleep after the conversation Tara and I had. I slept on and off all night, never feeling fully rested. I finally woke up mid-afternoon, the sun pouring through the cracks of the almost covered window.

Even though Tara assured me that I wouldn't die, I couldn't help but feel deep within me that that wasn't going to be the case. The idea alone shook me to my core, draining all the energy out of me.

I spent most of the day in Colby's room, lying in bed. Unmoving. I could hear everyone outside coming in and out of the apartment. Colby would occasionally poke his head in, seeing if I was alright. I would just close my eyes, pretending I was asleep. I had no energy to talk about what was going through my mind. Hours passed and it wasn't until I looked at my phone and saw the time that I realized I needed to get ready for work soon. I groaned, getting out of bed, and leaving his room. I slowly trudged to the bathroom.

"You okay, baby?" Colby called from the living room.

I hummed out a response, hoping he heard me. I finished, washed my hands, and left the bathroom. I sighed deeply as I walked towards the kitchen, figuring I should make something to eat before getting ready.

"Jade..." I turned towards Colby, his arms lightly reaching out and his hands grazing my wrists.

"What?" I whispered; my voice unable to speak louder.

Colby cupped my face, making my look into his eyes. "Babe, you look... so tired. Are you okay?"

The softness in his voice and touch made my heart ache. My body felt so heavy, my mind going both a million miles a minute and quiet all at once. I slid my arms around Colby, almost collapsing against him. Tears welled up in my eyes, my vision blurring. Colby rubbed my back, soothing me as I cried into his chest.

"I-I just...." I stuttered, blubbering.

"What, Jade? What is it?" He cooed.

"Every time things feel like they are calming down, they just get worse. Nothing seems to be going right for me, for us. I-I don't know how much more I can take." I shook, my cheeks soaked with tears.

"Try to calm down, Jade. It's gonna be okay." He assured me.

"But how do you know that? I mean, every time I try to catch a break, everything blows up in my face." I pulled back, looking up at him. "I try to take off work to relax, a 500-year-old vampire comes into town and toys with me. And then his brother decides he wants to fuck around with me too. And not only me, but you! Ronnie is constantly getting on my case, and then Mike tries to kill me. And yesterday every vampire I came into contact with was acting weird, only for me to find out that I apparently smell better without my necklace on. And that just adds a whole 'nother layer to all of this."

I finally tried catching my breath, no longer sad - but infuriated. "Am I cursed? That's what it feels like."

Colby shook his head. "I don't think you are. I think you are one person going through a lot in a short period of time that needs a real, serious break. And after what Tara said to you last night, I can only imagine what's going on inside your head."

I scrunched up my face. "How do you know what Tara said?"

"I may have... listened in on your conversation." He blinked.

"Colby." I whined, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"What? You're lucky I haven't locked you up inside my bedroom forever until all this blows over," he joked. "Besides, I don't want to be kept in the dark."

"I would have told you eventually." I argued, somewhat telling the truth.

"Are you sure about that? Because I have a sneaking suspicion that wouldn't happen given the information Tara shared with you about Kat and Xiomara." He lowered his voice, getting close to me.

"Don't tell the rest of the group. Kat begged me not-" I started, placing my hands on his chest.

Colby cut me off, cupping my hands into his. "I don't plan on it. I know there are a lot of vampires out there that would kill Kat for even being a witch, let alone being related to Xiomara. Besides I owe her. She did try to save me."

I exhaled, lowering my head. "I wish I could go somewhere, get away from all of this."

"Even out of the city would be better than this. Especially this dump." He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in.

"It's not too bad here. It's everything outside that's bad." I mumbled.

Colby held me in his arms tightly, rubbing my back soothingly. I breathed in his scent, warm and comforting. I knew I was safe in his arms. All I wanted was to freeze time and stay like this forever.

"You should call out." He stated plainly.

I huffed. "I don't know if I can. Roger would be really pissed-"

Colby scoffed. "Fuck Roger. Call out. Worse case he fires you."

"Some of us need to have a job that isn't hidden in the shadows or the apartment of a nightclub, Colby." I sassed.

"You can always work here if need be. God knows Kevin needs the extra hands when he can." Colby mentioned.

I paused, realizing he was right, "...That's true, I guess."

His face lightened. "So call out."

"Okay. I won't call though. I don't feel like talking. I'll just text Roger." I grabbed my phone out of my pocket.

"Sounds like a plan," he smiled, leaving the kitchen. "I have to step out for a minute and make a call. I'll be right back."

Colby walked out the apartment door, pulling out his phone as he closed it. I texted Roger that I wasn't coming in. I turned my phone on silent mode, not wanting to hear from him or Ronnie about me not showing up tonight.

I don't know why I was concerned about a job that barely paid me enough to live. With all the shit going on in my life right now, they're lucky I even show up at all.

Colby came back in a moment later, grinning. "Jade, go pack a bag."

"What? Why?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I want to take you somewhere, and we might be there for a bit." He explained, rubbing my arms sweetly.

"Well, where is 'there'?" I questioned.

"I can't tell you. That will ruin the surprise." Colby turned me towards the bedroom, slapping my ass lightly, "Now, go pack."

I didn't have too many clothes to pack in the first place, so it only took me a couple minutes to get ready. I changed into nicer clothes and walked out of Colby's room. He went in his room, grabbing a few things together, and was ready within a minute.

Vampire speed... must be nice.

Colby grabbed my hand, walking me out of the club's back entrance. He waved at Kevin, who gave him a casual salute as we passed. As we got outside, he pulled me to the garage across the street that was owned by the club.

"What are we doing over here?" I asked.

"Well, we gotta drive to get to our destination so I figured we could use my car." Colby replied, pulling out his keys and unalarming a car in the back corner of the garage. I followed him towards a car wrapped in a tarp.

"Is it a nice one?" I quired.

"Um," he shrugged. "I think it is."

Colby pulled the tarp off of his car, and underneath was an older model Toyota Corolla. It was a muted red color, and the interior was a beige nude color.

I stared over the top of the car at him. "This is the car you drive?"

"I don't really drive all that often anymore. But when I do... I ride in style." He opened his arms wide, gesturing to the car with a playful smile.

"Does Kevin not pay you enough to afford a nicer car? Hell, even a newer one?" I glanced over the car, biting my lip.

"Hey now, don't make fun of the honeywagon. She's gotten me very far in life, thank you very much." He rebutted jokingly.

"The honey-what?" I deadpanned.

"You heard me." Colby smirked, his dimples appearing for a brief moment. "Now, are you gonna keep making fun of my car, or are you going to get in?"

I rolled my eyes, opening the passenger door. I slid in, adjusting my seat a bit, and dropped my bag into the back seat. Colby got in, putting his bag in the back as well, and started the car immediately.

"I'm surprise she starts." I jeered lightly.

Colby rubbed the steering wheel, "Just because she's from 2007 does not mean she doesn't run like a champ."

"2007? Wow, that's... a long time ago." I snickered.

"Hey, when I bought this car in 2009, it was pretty new then." He responded.

My eyes widened. "You bought this car back in 2009?"

Colby backed the car up and out of the garage, starting us on our journey. "Yeah. When I turned 18, I found out that my mom left me a good amount of money. It wasn't enough for me to get my own place, but it was enough to pay for this car. I pretty much spent all of her money on this."

My stomach dropped, my previous words hitting me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made fun-"

"It's okay Jade," he chuckled at my expression. "You ain't the first to rag on the honeywagon. Mike has given me shit over it for years. But, like I always tell him, it's sentimental."

I paused before continuing, knowing this was a touchy subject. "What happened to your mom? ...If you don't mind me asking."

Colby swallowed, his eyes remaining on the road. "My mom died of a heart attack when I was 10, and my dad had died back when I was a toddler, so I never really knew him. So, I didn't really have any other family around... besides Aunt Susan. She was also legally my godmother, so she was obligated to take me in. She got the house and everything else my mom left, even though most of it was left for me."

I lowered my voice, "The vision I saw of her and you. She grabbed you by your throat so aggressively. How often was she... like that?"

"The one moment you did see was basically how every day went. She always treated me like I was a burden, even back when I was a kid. She constantly belittled me, told me I wasn't good enough, and compared me to my mother in the worse way. It made me sick living there. And I had plans to move out as soon as I turned 18, but things never lined up well enough for me." He laughed bitterly, "And of course she wanted to kick me out the moment I was an adult, but she couldn't afford to live in the house without my extra income so once I finished high school, I moved to the basement and basically turned it into a little apartment. I never saw her unless I had to and all I did was go to work and come home. And that was my life for a long time."

"Did you have friends?" I inquired.

"I mean, I had a couple, but none that were actually close. Plus, once vampires came out to the public, a lot of people saw me as a pariah because of my aunt." He informed.

I frowned. "Why?"

"She was known in our town, affectionally, as a blood whore." Colby drove us onto the highway, leading us away from the city.

"Jesus..." I whispered, surprised.

"When vampires first came out, a lot of people were scared of them. But my aunt wasn't one of them. She was very... welcoming, to say the least. And she found out very quickly that vampire's blood was something worth befriending over." He remarked, his tone dull.

"She used to drink vampire blood?" I gaped.

"All the time. She used to give her blood to vampires in exchange - sometimes for money, sometimes for their blood. She became an addict to it, to some degree. Vampire blood, if drank a lot and in high quantities, can cause the person to feel high. So, she did that a lot of the times. She had a lot of vampire boyfriends. None of them ever stayed around too long. Just long enough for her to get her fix and then move onto the next..." His voice fell off for a moment, coming back more emotional; angrier. "Until Xaiver."

I reached over, placing my hand on Colby's forearm, rubbing it softly.

"She didn't exactly hang around with the best vampires, but he was especially sketchy. A lot of local vampires didn't fuck with him, but of course she still found her way to him. I found out later what happened with her and him. Because he was a dealer, he would sell his blood in vials. They met in some bar, and a week later went out on a ‘date’. He gave her a vial of his blood. And he expected that in return she would do the same the next date. But there never was another date. She just stole his blood and dipped. Hid in the house for two weeks in case he was out hunting for her - which he was. Eventually he heard that she had a kid that she took care of and that's how he found me." He glared at the road ahead, his jaw tense.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. You didn't deserve that." I consoled; the flashes of his memory played in my mind.

"It was such a weird feeling... turning into a vampire. I had heard stories of what it was like, and none of them explained it the way I felt it. Everything became sharp and intense. I was seeing colors I couldn't see before, lights were brighter, everything smelled so strong, and I could hear everything around me all at once. And the emotions - those are what really took me by surprise. I felt.... everything," Colby took a ragged breath. "Anything I had ever held back, anything I ever thought, I felt it. In that very moment. It was all so overwhelming. That word doesn't even do it justice."

I laced my fingers with his free hand, giving him a squeeze. "I can only imagine."

"I think my powers also made it ten times worse, at least for me. The moment I touched my aunt... I saw everything about her. Her whole entire life flashed before my eyes. Everything she ever felt or thought came to me. And I hated every second of it." He fumed lowly, sliding his hand out of my own for a moment.

I stayed silent, just watching Colby. His eyes remained on the road, but they were intense, dark. His one hand gripped the steering wheel while other rested softly on my thigh.

"I always thought that she didn't love me. I knew for a fact she didn't like me, you didn't need supernatural powers to know that. But I had hoped she cared, even a little. And there were times in her life she did. But deep down she never... wanted me," he confessed, his voice almost falling to a whisper. He swallowed and continued, "She was extremely jealous of the life my mom had. My mom had a great husband until he passed, she had a house, a family - everything my aunt wanted but could never get for whatever reason. And I was just a reminder of that. She gladly took the house, the car, my mom's money, but she didn't really want me. And knowing that she was actually kind of glad when my mom passed... I couldn't have stopped myself even if I wanted to."

"I don't blame you for what you did." I stated, looking into his eyes.

He blinked, turning back to the road. "When the police showed up, I told them that a vampire came in and attacked us both. They believed me because of her history, took her body to the morgue, and that was it. I paid for a funeral I didn't attend and buried her. I sold the house and any other possessions I could and never turned back."

"What happened to Xavier?" I uttered.

"I killed him before I left town. He was the second person I ever killed." He revealed.

I furrowed my brow, "He was hardly a person. He was a monster for what he did to you."

"Sometimes I regret killing either one of them. But then I think most likely if I hadn't, someone else would've. They both messed around with a lot of strange people..." He trailed off.

I tried to change the subject, sensing that Colby was getting tired of talking about this one. "What age did you get turned at?"

"22. I was about to be 23." He answered.

"How old would you be now?" I thought out loud.

"I would be 28. I was only born in '91." He stated.

"Oh my God... I'm dating an older man?" I gasped. "Sexy."

He finally cracked a genuine smile. "Why don't you get some rest? We have a long drive ahead of us."

"You still haven't told me where we're going." I argued light-heartedly.

"Well, clearly it's up in the mountains." He pointed to the mountains in the distance.

"I can tell that. But where?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You'll see eventually." He teased.

"You never fully explained why you're driving there. Couldn't we have vampire ran?" I questioned.

"It's a couple hours away, and while I'm strong I don't think I could run that far. Plus, I wanted to spend time with you, even if you're just asleep." He turned to me, giving me a wink. "So, get some rest."

I snuggled into my seat, leaning back a bit and staring out the window. The quiet sound of the radio and Colby's breathing lulled me to sleep in no time.

~\/\/~

"Baby, it's time to get up. We're here." Colby whispered, his soothing voice waking me.

I opened my eyes slowly, trying to focus them. The lights of the car illuminated the forest around us. And a few feet from the car was a cabin. A little porch with two red chairs rested on the outside with a set of stairs leading up to it. The cabin looked well taken care of, the light on the outside inviting us in. Little white flowers adorned the path leading to the stairs and around the whole property.

I got out of the car, my eyes widening at the sight. It was still dark out, but the sun would be rising soon, the sky a lighter blue than before. I turned towards Colby, who had both of our bags in his hands. He raced up the stairs, entering the cabin and turning the lights on. I walked up the path to the house, gliding up the stairs and into the cabin. I took in all of the little details of the place: the dark wooden interior, the rock wall fireplace, the cozy deep red couches, the soft oak table right outside of the kitchen. Everything about this place was beautiful. The house even smelled good, a mix of cinnamon and mahogany.

"So, what do you think?" He breathed almost nervously.

I gazed around the cabin, trying to take in every detail that I could. "Colby... how did you get a place like this last minute?"

"Well, Kevin knows a guy that owns this house. And I asked him to ask the guy if it was okay for us to come up here. And he said it was fine. We've all come up here before, sometimes just to get away from the city." Colby stepped closer to me. "Did you notice the white flowers outside?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah I did. Wait... are those-?"

He cut me off, smiling. "Angelica californica, to be exact."

"They grow here?" I questioned.

"Naturally, but we also add to the population occasionally." He joked, his dimples appearing.

"So... no vampires?" I whispered.

He replied back just as quiet. "No vampires. Except for me, of course."

I jumped up, hugging him tightly. "Oh Colby. This is the best present ever. Thank you."

"Of course, baby. You deserve this, and so much more." He pulled back, his arms still wrapped around me, "So, the closest cabin is about a mile away. Same with the closest town. I figured in an hour or two we can go into town, maybe get some breakfast at the diner? And then afterwards I can pick us up some groceries, that way you aren't starving the whole week we're here."

I gasped, "We're gonna be here for a week? Oh no, Colby, I only called out for a day.”

"Ehh, don't worry. You have off this weekend, right? Stay here with me, and we'll worry about all of that on Monday." Colby argued.

"I have a feeling I won't want to leave though." I exhaled dramatically.

He feigned concern. "Oh no... whatever will we do?"

I smacked his chest, a laugh erupting from him.

"Go take a shower, and I'll unpack our bags. Sound good?" He held my hands, giving them a light squeeze.

I nodded, walking into the bedroom and pulling out some clothes to change into for after my shower.

I took the longest shower of my life, scrubbing all the stress away and off my body. By the time I had gotten out, it had been an hour, and the diner was ready to open. Colby and I drove into town, enjoying the view of the quaint place. The diner wasn't packed, but a steady stream of customers were coming in and out for the breakfast rush. We sat down at a table and enjoyed our meal slowly, people-watching the whole time. We walked through town, looking at all the little shops and stopping in a few. I bought a mug with the town's name on it, Colby rolled his eyes as I did. We then went to the grocery store, picking up a few things to make lunch and dinner. Colby wasn't much of a cook, and neither was I, so we settled on pasta for tonight. We drove home, but I didn't feel like settling in yet.

"Do you wanna go on a hike?" Colby suggested.

And we did just that. The fresh air almost burned my lungs, the crispness feeling sharp with every breath. It had been overcast out all day, making it the perfect weather to walk in. I found a stream not too far away from our cabin, following it down until it opened up to a lake. We sat at the dock of the lake, staring out into the water, huddled close to each other.

Then the skies opened up, rain pouring and soaking us instantly. We laughed as we raced home, Colby holding my hand the whole time. Eventually when we were close, Colby picked me up bridal style and sped me into the cabin. Thunder crackled in the distance, making the ground shake. Colby started a fire, and the cabin warmed up instantly.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I did. I woke up wrapped up in a blanket, a soft pillow resting under me. The tv was on, playing a random channel I hadn't seen before. The cabin smelled of butter and pasta sauce. I looked at the time, and it was already 5:36 P.M.

"Good evening, sleepy head. Dinner will be ready soon, if you wanna get up." Colby spoke from the kitchen.

I stretched, getting up and heading towards his voice. "You should have woke me sooner. I would have helped with dinner."

He snickered, "I'm not that clueless when it comes to making pasta. Besides, you looked too peaceful, and I figured after the long day of walking around your body could use some more rest."

"Well, I'll at least set the table." I pulled out two dishes, walking over to the table and placing them down. I noticed in the little vase there were three flowers: two things of angelica and a single rose.

He noticed me staring, "I got that for you at the grocery store. I made sure to hide it so you wouldn't see."

"You are literally too sweet to me." I leaned in, pecking his lips.

He shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know about too sweet, but I'm definitely trying my best here.”

My face dropped, turning to look at him completely. "Colby, you got me a cabin, drove me all the way here just so I could catch a break. You bought me breakfast and groceries and are now making me dinner. If that isn't sweet, I don't know what is."

He looked down, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. He continued stirring the pasta.

Oh my God... I made Colby blush.

A moment later, he turned off the heat, dumping the pasta water out and into the heated sauce. He mixed that up for a minute and turned to me. "I think it's ready."

We ate dinner slowly, enjoying each bite. Maybe it was because I hadn't had a homecooked meal in ages, but the pasta was to die for. We chatted the whole time, commenting on our day and the different things we saw at the diner and the lake. Once we finished, Colby poured some wine for us. A lull finally fell into our conversation, but we still sat in the dining room, sipping our wine. Colby held my hand, lightly running his thumb back and forth.

I squeezed his hand gently. "Thank you so much for this, Colby. Truly. I needed this escape so badly."

"Of course, Jade. I'll be honest though; this wasn't just an escape for you. It was for me too. I'm not exactly... not stressed, about everything going on." He took a long sip from his wine glass, his voice low.

I sighed deeply, gazing down at the table. "It's insane how crazy our lives have gotten in such a short time."

Colby nodded his head, finishing off his wine. He reached out his now free hand, wanting to hold mine. I gave him it, cupping his gently. His grip tightened as he began to speak.

"I'm... scared, of what's to come, Jade."

My heart sank at his words, his voice catching me off guard. He kept his head down as he continued.

"I want to be able to protect you, and I think I can, but there is a part of me that thinks I'm not enough. That I'm not strong enough. And especially if someone like Rinaldi or Max is coming after you... it's true. And it terrifies me that that's the truth. Hearing what Tara said to you, that there's the possibility that my greatest fear could happen, that you could die... I don't know what I would do with myself. I can't lose you, Jade. You're the first person I've let in in such a long time and I just can't..." His voice waivered as he trailed off, his head lowered to our hands, resting on them.

I felt a single tear slide down my face, unaware that his words did that to me. I wanted to reach out and grab him, pull him as close to me as possible and never let go. I wasn't sure what to say, but as we both stayed quiet for a moment, I felt myself utter words I knew to be true.

"I love you, Colby."

I could feel Colby freeze, halting his breath. He picked his head up slowly, his eyes almost staring through me. My heart sped up at his intense look.

"I know this might seem sudden... but I've felt this way for a long time." I shuttered out a breath, not realizing how nervous I was, "I don't expect you to say it back."

"I-I... want to, though. I just," his voice fell off, his eyes boring down at our still laced hands. "I've never had anyone say that to me."

My heart shattered, "No one's ever said I love you to you before?"

"Not since I was young. All of our friends have made passing remarks, saying that they care about me, but... not ‘I love you’. Not like how you said it." He murmured.

I squeezed his hands, running my thumb over his knuckles. I leaned down and kissed the top of them, looking up at him briefly. The silence filled the room, and I could see Colby wanted to speak, but was unsure of what to say. I truly didn't expect him to say it back, but part of me hoped for some response soon. My ears rang from the quiet.

Colby's eyes connected with mine, his icy blues gazing deep. "I'm not good at talking. I've never been great at saying what I feel. But I think I can show you... what I feel."

He stood up, pulling me to my feet. He cupped my face gently, his hand feeling almost cold against my hot skin. He leaned in slowly, pressing his body into me. His lips captured mine, an electric charge surging through my body instantly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers running through his hair.

Colby pushed me lightly against the table, his hands sliding down my body until he reached my hips. He gripped them tightly, the feeling causing a light sigh to fall from my lips. He smirked into the kiss, pulling away briefly to lift me up onto the table. He placed me down, connecting his lips with mine again. I wrapped my legs around his hips, squeezing him into me. Our kiss deepened, our tongues dancing with one another. Suddenly, he scooped me up from the table, walking me to the bedroom carefully.

He got me to the edge of the bed, dropping me softly. I gasped as I fell back, my legs dangling off the bed as he stared down at me. I swear for a second, I saw his eyes flash red as he scanned my body. My heart raced at the thought of what he could, and would, do to me.

He leaned down, hovering over me as he murmured in my ear. "I want to make you feel good, Jade."

I bit my lip, "I-I want you to do that."

Colby chuckled, kissing down my neck. He nipped at my collarbone; goosebumps rose across my skin as he did. He kept kissing down my body, my chest heaving as he got closer to my sex. I could feel the fire already burning deep within me growing. I wanted him so badly and for so long. And now, it was finally happening.

He raised my shirt up slowly, his hands stopping just underneath my bra. He looked into my eyes and nodded my head, sitting up and letting him pull my shirt off. He gazed over my newly exposed skin, taking in every inch of it. He glided his head down, his breath fanning just above the button of my pants. I shuddered at the feeling, needing him to keep going.

"I've wanted to taste you for so long, Jade." He glanced up at me, a whine almost falling from his lips, "Can I? Please?"

My panties grew wetter from the desperation in his voice. I nodded, unable to speak. Colby unbuttoned my pants, sliding them down my body hastily. His hands cupped my hips, his mouth kissing just above my underwear. My breath hitched at the sensation, my body tensing.

"You're already so wet for me... God, I need to taste you now." He growled.

He pulled my underwear off, throwing it behind him. I bit my lip as the cool air of the cabin hit my naked sex. My hips arched, wanting Colby to give me some relief.

"Use your words, baby. What do you want from me?" He teased, kissing my thighs.

I shuttered, "C-Colby, please. I need you so badly."

"To what?" He blinked innocently.

"Make me come with your tongue." I mewled.

Colby clenched his jaw at my words, his eyes closing tightly for a moment. "Whatever you want, baby. It's yours."

His mouth immediately connected with my clit, pulling it into his mouth and gently sucking on it. Pleasure rolled down my body, my legs instinctively wrapping around his head and resting on his shoulders. As he continued to play with my clit, his fingers lightly brushed up and down my lips, teasing my entrance.

"Oh my God, fuck Colby." I moaned, my eyes fluttering close.

He buried his head deeper into my cunt, his tongue and fingers switching positions. He lapped at my hole, his middle finger rubbing slow circles into my clit.

My hips bucked out his actions, whines falling from my mouth. He kept his pace slow and deep, causing pleasure to roll down my body over and over again.

I could feel my body getting closer to the edge, but I wanted him, needed him, inside of me. "Colby...."

"Yes, beautiful?" He hummed, picking his head up.

"Please.... I need you." I whimpered, my fingers tracing up his face as he looked at me.

He slowed raised up to my face, his mouth pressed closed to my ear. "You need me inside of you?"

"Yes," I shook my head desperately.

"How badly do you need me, baby? Tell me." He demanded teasingly.

"Colby, please." I pawed at his chest, still covered by his shirt, "I need you to take this off, right fucking now."

"Yeah?" He smirked, sitting up and pulling his shirt off with one arm.

My hands immediately slid up his chest, feeling his muscles tighten under my touch. I bit my lip, taking in every inch of him.

Suddenly, Colby's face changed. He lowered himself back down to me, his body resting against mine firmly. I could feel his bulge pressing hard into my thigh. That sent a shockwave through me, knowing I was turning him on.

"Jade... I want you," he swallowed hard. "I want you so badly. I've needed you for so long."

He leaned in, our lips connecting in a passionate kiss. My breath was instantly taken from me, my chest heaving from needed oxygen. My hands drifted down his body, undoing and sliding his pants down enough so that I could grasp his hard member. He gasped against my mouth, his grip on my hips tightening. He thrusted slowly into my hand as I held him. I could tell just from a few pumps that he was big. My pussy clenched at the feeling.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" He whispered lowly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded, a tiny whimper escaping my mouth.

Colby kissed along my neck as he pulled his pants down all the way. His hands slid behind me and popped my bra off, yanking it away from my body quickly. I giggled at his actions; his neediness just as present as mine.

He reached over to the nightstand, opening the drawer and grabbing a condom. He rolled the condom down his shaft, my eyes widening at his now completely naked form. He was so beautiful, in more ways than one. My breath hitched in my throat as I took in as much as I could.

He leaned his head against mine, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. "Do you still want this? Do you still want to do this?"

"Of course. More than ever." I cupped his face gently, pecking his lips.

He lined himself up, his eyes boring into mine for just a moment. As he entered me, he closed his eyes tightly, his mouth a gape. I moaned as he stretched me out, filling me deeply.

"Fuck Jade, you feel so good." He grunted, his chest vibrating from how deep his voice was.

Once he was completely inside of me, his eyes shot open, two red orbs staring back at me. Veins popped out from under his skin by his eyes. And his parted mouth showed fangs.

I gazed up at him, excited by the vampire before me. I've only ever seen him like this once, and now it felt completely different. Back then I barely even knew him. And now, he was the love of my life.

"I'm sorry, baby. Give me a second, okay?" Colby hissed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against mine.

I hushed him, cupping his face, "No, it's okay Colby. I'm not scared. You don't scare me."

Colby exhaled. "That's good to know. But I still don't like having my fangs out while I'm fucking you."

I stuttered out, "I... don't mind."

"Oh? You like the fangs?" He sassed, his hips slowly starting to move.

"Yeah." I whispered bashfully, a light blush creeping across my skin.

"You're blushing.... oh my God, that's so fucking hot." He cursed.

I gripped his back a little hard, pulling him deeper into me as he thrusted. I matched his pace, our bodies moving as one.

Colby leaned into my neck, kissing and licking my skin. His fangs grazed against me, goosebumps forming. I let out a light gasp as he pressed his fangs in further, but never broke skin.

He groaned, his voice in my ear. "Do you want me to bite you? I can feel you squeezing around me tighter every time I almost do."

I inhaled sharply, taken aback by his tone. Colby chuckled darkly into my ear, his hips picking up speed.

"You want it, don’t you? Just admit it." He smirked.

I let out a raspy sound, unable to say anything. He was right, I did want him to bite me. But I wasn't going to say it. At least not yet.

"Make me." I uttered bravely.

His stare intensified, his lips twitching into a smile. "Fine."

Colby pinned down my hands to the bed with one hand, while his other shimmied down in between our bodies. He forced my legs apart wider, two of his fingers pushing lightly against my clit. He started stroking in time with his thrusts, which only got deeper and harder. I cried out in pleasure, my eyes rolling into the back of head from the new sensation.

"Tell me you need it. Tell me you want me to bite you." He ordered, staring into my eyes.

"Fuck, Colby! Pleaseeee." I whined, my brain turning to mush with his actions.

He grunted, his hips shuttering. "God I'm getting so close, Jade. Say what you want, baby. I'll give it to you. I'll give you whatever you want."

"Bite me, please." I whimpered.

"Say it louder, Jade." He hissed.

"Bite me, Colby!" I moaned louder, my pleasure building more and more. I could feel myself almost going over the edge. Fuck, I needed him to make me come.

"One more time, sweetheart. Say it for me now!" His voice thundered, his thrusts going deeper and deeper into me.

"Oh my God, please bite me! Please! I'm so fucking close!" I shouted desperately, my hips bucking wildly. I tried to force my hands out from under his hold, but they wouldn't budge. I just struggled against him as he kept up his fast-paced movements.

"Good girl, baby. Come for me." He growled, and then slammed his fangs into my neck. It was all overwhelming - the sensation of his fangs, his thrusts, and his words - and it immediately sent my body into overdrive. My orgasm ripped through me, my hips spasming in time with his. I cried out in pleasure, unable to hold back any sounds I had in me. He drank my blood slowly, but just the slight loss made my head all the more lighter.

"Oh shit I'm coming! Fuuuuuckkk-" Colby pounded into me over and over again, exploding in ecstasy as my blood leaked down his chin from my mouth. His red eyes almost glared down at me, intensely staring into my soul. I could feel his aura appear around us, engulfing us both. I was too out of my mind to care. Everything about this moment made my head spin and my mind blank out.

Once our orgasms subsided, Colby's body crashed down on top of mine. He let go of one of my hands, the other lacing fingers with his. We laid there and just breathed with one another, trying to slow down our racing hearts. It felt like forever before he finally picked his head up.

He picked his head up quickly, his mouth a gape. "Shit, I forgot you were bleeding. Here, let me give you some of my blood."

I slurred, "Nooo, y-you don't-"

"You're have no room to argue with me, sweetheart." Colby took his finger in his mouth, biting open the pad of it. Then he brought it to my lips. "Open up, baby."

I allowed his finger into my mouth, the metallic taste making me wince until suddenly changing into something sweet. I sucked on his finger, feeling the lightheadedness slowly going away.

"That's right... there you go. I didn't drink too much from you, so you don't need too much from me." A moment later, he slid his finger out of my mouth, a light ‘pop’ noise following.

"I-I was enjoying that, you know." I joked, sighing.

"I was too." He leaned in close, "There's a reason why I'm still hard inside of you."

We both giggled, his mischievous eyes softening. He pulled out of me a moment later, relaxing back on the bed beside me. We laid there silently, just listening to each other breathe. With a slight look, his hands grasped around my wrist, lightly tugging me over to him until my head was laying on his chest. He sighed deeply, snuggling into me more. I began to drift off, his soft breathing lulling me to sleep. We laid like this for hours, barely moving except to pull the blankets higher.

A ring tone ripped through the silent room. I glanced up at Colby who read his phone. "It's just Mike. He can leave a message."

I snuggled back in, waiting for the phone to stop. It did for a moment, only to start ringing again. The same tone and all.

"There's no reason for Mike to need me. He knows we’re up here. I left a note." He rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed.

"Okay." I laid my head down, but I didn't shut my eyes. Something churned in my stomach as I stared at the phone, hoping it wouldn't ring again.

But then it did.

Colby groaned, grabbing his phone off the table, and answering it. "What Mike?"

I could hear Mike's muffled voice, and it sounded panic.

Colby froze at Mike's words. He slowly rose from bed, my body falling off his. "What?"

My breath hitched. Something happened.

"Yeah. Yeah. We'll be there as soon as we can be. Tell him to hold on. I'm leaving right now." His tone was serious and pointed. He hung up the phone, getting out of bed quickly.

My stomach sank, my eyes widened. "What happened, Colby? What's wrong?"

He threw on his clothes hastily, turning to me. "It's Sam. Someone attacked him at the club tonight. We have to leave."

<< CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 24 >>

#colby brock #colby brock x oc #the chosen daughter #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fic #colby brock vampire #sam and colby #colby brock smut #colby brock angst

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how-very-salty · 4 months

Note

id love to see veronica talking care of a sick jd ❤️❤️

as you wish <3

hot soup

link to ao3

Veronica Sawyer x JD (pure au)

__________________

The world around him was melting and shaking like jelly in a hot oven. JD squeezed his eyes shut with a groan: it hurt to look at the light, but he didn't have the strength to get up and turn it off. Nor to take the blanket out of the box: even though October had been surprisingly warm, he'd been shivering with cold all day. His head felt empty and sticky, he felt an unpleasant buzzing in his ears, and every joint in his body ached with pain. Fucking flu!

He hadn't been this sick since he was a kid. The last time had been when he was nine, shortly after his mother had died. He'd been sick for almost a month then - and he'd recovered for months. It made him realize that his father didn't care about him: even in that state, he had to cook for himself and take his sweat-soaked pajamas to the laundry every morning, bending over and coughing.

As he struggled to get back on his feet, JD promised himself he would never get sick again. He'd kept that promise for eight years, only to fall apart after his first fight with Veronica. What a bad time...

If they hadn't had a fight, she would definitely come to visit him, and then he wouldn't have to be sick alone again. He could try to put down his metal shell for a while and let someone else take care of him. Or rather not someone but Veronica: she was the only one he could show his weakness to. At least he thought he could... But they'd had their fight, and now he'd never know for sure. Because JD had said so much crap that she would probably never look at him again.

Why is he such a jerk when it comes to her?

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining Veronica coming into the room and sitting on the mattress next to him. Her cool fingers gently brushed the damp strands away from his face. She tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned over him. Soft lips pressed against his forehead for a moment and Ronnie gasped softly, feeling how hot his skin was.

"Why didn't you call me, you idiot?"

JD's brow furrowed in confusion: sure, he'd fucked up, but shouldn't she sound more gentle, at least in his own fantasies?

"Because you're mad at me. Aren't you?" he exhaled hoarsely, half coughing. The thoughts in his head were jumbled, fading into a thick, heavy fog.

"Sure, I'm still mad," Veronica gently wiped away the salty trace that stretched from the corner of his eye to his temple, "but that doesn't mean you can disappear for three days and expect me not to care! We can work things out after you're healed, okay?"

JD opened his watery eyes and focused on her face... So he hadn't imagined her? Veronica was really here, coming to him after all he'd said to her?

"I don't want to fight! I just want you here," he blurted out carelessly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, please."

JD reached for her hand and squeezed in his own. Veronica's eyebrows were raised sadly.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard," she looked up at him guiltily, "It was just something in my head, you know?"

"No," her expression darkened, and JD, suppressing the urge to punch himself, hastily clarified, "I mean, you have nothing to apologize for! I really need to trust you more. And not just in words... You're the only one I can trust."

He stopped awkwardly. Didn't that sound too corny?

"That openness of yours is why it hits me so hard when you suddenly shut down," she chuckled sheepishly, ruffling his sweat-soaked curls. "But still, let's put this conversation aside and take care of you first, okay?"

"No need," JD said curtly. "Everything's fine. it's not the first time," he closed his eyes and cursed mentally. He's doing it again. Now she'd leave him and he'd be alone because he'd decided to play cool. But he wanted her to come, didn't he?

"JD," Veronica sighed reproachfully as she rose from the mattress, "there's no shame in asking for help! Nor in accepting it."

"I know," he forced himself to say, "I'm just not used to it, okay? I... I need your help! Don't go..."

"Dummy," her soft lips touched his forehead again, "I'm not going anywhere. How could I leave you like this?

"Then where are you going?"

"I thought I could find something to make soup. My mom always makes it when I'm sick," she trailed off awkwardly and gave him a quick look, "um... when was the last time you ate?"

"I think it's been two or three days," JD admitted reluctantly, and Veronica put her hands over her mouth. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm not really hungry."

"There you go again," she sighed, and left the room without another word.

A short time later, the front door on the first floor slammed. Did he say something wrong again?

The soft sound of footsteps woke him from his restless slumber. JD opened his eyes and stared at Veronica. She was standing over him with a stern expression on her face, holding a bowl of steaming soup.

"Are you going to pour it on me?" he muttered, staring at her in fake horror.

"Sorry, I had to go to the store," Ronnie snorted and sat down on the bed next to him. "You don't have any food in the fridge, just beer..."

"What's beer to you, isn't food? You know, there's a German proverb: 'Beer is liquid bread'," he chuckled hoarsely, finally waking up. "You shouldn't, honey, I'm really not hungry. But I'm glad you're back."

"I don't care, you need to eat and you will eat," Veronica scooped up the soup with a spoon. "Open your mouth, here comes the plane..."

JD rolled his eyes, sat up on the pillows and opened his mouth obediently. Sometimes it was easier to do what Ronnie wanted than to argue with her - she was so damn stubborn!

Most of the time she was right. As soon as the soup was in his mouth, his stomach rumbled with hunger.

Okay, okay, you were right," he sighed, reaching for the spoon, "you can say your famous..."

"Nah, cranky sick people are hand-fed," she showed him her tongue and took another spoonful of soup. "And yes, I told you so!"

When the plate was empty, Veronica set it on the floor and climbed into bed with him. She shoved her icy feet underneath him, as she always did, making him wince from the cold.

"You might catch it," JD tried to pull away, but she just shrugged it off, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.

"Who cares? I miss you so much," she murmured, snuggling into his shoulder.

"I care! I miss you too, but..."

"Tsk, tsk! I'm the nursing expert here, and I can authoritatively say that you are in dire need of a hug," Ronnie snorted, giving him a sly look from under her lashes. "If I get sick, you'll come to me too, won't you?

"Sure," JD couldn't resist anymore, so he gave in and hugged her; it felt much warmer. "And I'll feed you with a spoon, too, like a little girl.... "

"I don't mind," she giggled softly, lifting herself up and kissing him on the cheek. "You can tell a story, too."

"I can't remember a single one," he licked his dry lips, hesitantly trying to change the subject. They would have to talk about this fight anyway. Right now, he could at least hope that she would have mercy on him. "Look, about the birthday..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Veronica interrupted him hastily. "I was wrong to keep pushing... I should have stopped when you asked me to, and then we wouldn't have had this fight!"

"Maybe, but that doesn't excuse me. I acted like a real asshole anyway," JD looked away guiltily. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that, and I was clearly wrong to say that you were prying and clingy. And I definitely shouldn't have said that you..."

"That I'm training you like a dog to raise your voice on command? Yeah, you went a little overboard there," Veronica's voice was fake funny, and it made him feel like the scum of the earth.

"I'm sorry," JD swallowed and stammered, trying to explain himself, "I don't know how I could even think of that! I don't think so, I just..."

He shut up, wishing he hadn't brought it up: the mood in the room had changed for the worse. He hoped they wouldn't get into another fight...

"You do that all the time when someone tries to get under your defenses! You get angry and then you attack," Ronnie looked up at him wearily, "only I thought I was allowed to..."

"You are allowed," he protested heatedly, "you really are! But I'm just used to not needing other people. To need someone is a sign of weakness. And it always, absolutely always ends badly."

"But I need you," she frowned, leaning on her elbows, "and I admit it. Does that make me weak?"

"No, but..." he didn't have time to finish, coughing and turning away hastily.

"It doesn't work like that, JD!" she waited until the coughing was over, cupping his face in her palms and gently turning him toward her. "You can't always just give. Relationships are also about taking and letting someone take care of you."

"I'll try, but," his lips curled grimly, "it won't change that quickly, darling. I didn't have anyone to teach me that, I didn't have anyone to care about me at all until you came along..."

"Shit," her eyes widened in realization, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking! I... I seem to be pushing you again, yeah?"

"It's okay, love," JD pulled her gently toward him. "You're saying all the right things, but... We both just need time and a little patience."

Veronica nodded curtly and suddenly hugged him tightly, pressing her face into his chest.

"My birthday is Wednesday, next week," he whispered softly, burying his nose in her soft hair. It smelled of cherries, as always, but now it was lighter and cleaner, and his heart suddenly beat faster, whether from love or the rising fever. "I don't want to celebrate, but I'd like you to spend this day with me. And, Ronnie, can you... can you stay with me tonight? I usually get worse at night."

"Sure," Veronica lifted her head and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. "Of course I'll stay! Do you want anything?"

"How about some more soup? I think I'm still hungry."

#heathers #jason dean #j.d.#heathers musical #veronica sawyer #jdonica #heather fic #fic request

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

Text

(part 3 of the not-hallmark fic, now tentatively titled grace coming out of the void)

It’s not too long before Robin tumbles through the door in a whirlwind of apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Steve, wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Eddie kept me company.”

It’s true, actually. There’d been a few minutes of awkward silence, before Eddie’d visibly steeled himself and started making small talk with the grim determination of a general heading into battle. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t made Steve feel like dirt just a little bit.

He’s trying, Steve had told himself firmly. Yeah, it sucked that Eddie clearly still had some kind of problem with him, but if he was willing to try this hard to get over it…well, the least Steve could do was try, too.

So they’d filled each other in on all the stupid unimportant details of their lives, the stuff that was easy to talk about, and gradually the talking got easier. They’d never been strangers, not really, but somehow over the years it had gotten so Steve could forget that Eddie was fun to be around. There hadn’t always been a weird sour feeling in Steve’s stomach that had to be ignored; there was Eddie’s hands looping in big descriptive shapes as he described some new student who has absolutely no idea why she’s in my class, Steve, I swear someone’s blackmailing the kid to be there, she just shows up and like, grimly struggles through whatever I give her. Won’t even tell me what she wants to play, and I’ve tried everything. I arranged Cyndi fuckin’ Lauper for this kid, Steve!

Eddie’s face, relaxed and bright-eyed, never happier than when he’s telling a story. The way Eddie cares so much about every little thing. Just being around him feels like sitting at a fireplace, soaking in the warmth and light. And when Steve manages to make him laugh, it feels like winning the damn lottery.

So they’ve managed to get on pretty well in Robin’s absence. Steve’s hoping it doesn’t take them another few years before they can have a real conversation again, like some kind of timer that needs to reset.

“Good,” says Robin. “Because you two are like my favorite people, and it would really suck if you couldn’t get along.”

“Favorite people?” Eddie drawls, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t wait to tell Ronnie that.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare!” Robin shoves at his shoulder until he moves over so she can squeeze onto the couch with them.

“Am I finally going to get to meet the famous Veronica?” asks Steve. Robin’s been going on about her for a while, but he knows the relationship hasn’t been official for that long. So it’s fine, it’s normal that he hasn’t met his best friend’s girlfriend yet, and Eddie has.

“Yeah, of course,” says Robin. “She’ll be here in like an hour to set up for the party.”

Of course there’s a party. From what Steve hears, Robin and Eddie seem to be constantly throwing parties and having people over, a rotating cast of quirky personalities with artistic inclinations and improbable backstories.

This one’s not even really a party, Robin assures him; it’s just the new girlfriend plus a couple local friends. Or, one local friend and one Hawkinsite who’s in town for the holidays.

“You remember Jeff, right?” says Robin.

“Oh sure, Jeff, yeah,” says Steve. “And the other one’s…Hannah?”

“Helen, she’s an artist who’s been working with Eddie on an installation. She’s great, you’ll love Helen.”

———

Steve does not love Helen.

“Wait, it’s true?” Helen cuts in. “People actually thought Ed was a cult leader? Our Ed?”

Steve breathes through the flicker of annoyance. Eddie doesn’t belong to Hawkins anymore.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s, you know, a small town. Folks were just scared, is all.”

“Aww,” she coos. “It’s just so tough to imagine anyone being scared of this guy.” She ruffles Eddie’s hair and Eddie slaps her away, laughing.

“Yeah, it was a whole torches-and-pitchforks thing,” Eddie says. “I met this guy when I was on the run from some villagers who wanted to burn me at the stake. Me! Can you imagine?”

Steve huffs, amused. “Think I remember something about that meeting. Something like…you threatening me with a broken bottle at my neck? Ring any bells for you, Ed?”

“Wait…that’s not how you got those scars, is it?” Helen’s looking a little more hesitant, like she finally realizes there’s something here she can’t ever understand. Steve’s viciously pleased about it, then tries not to be. He doesn’t like strangers talking about all that shit like they can relate or something.

All he says is: “Nah. That was a little later. Eddie’s the reason I lived long enough to let this—” He rubs awkwardly at his neck, fingers skidding and pulling at the ugly ridges. “—scar at all.”

“Don’t listen to Harrington, he never wants to admit he’s a fuckin’ action hero. I barely did anything except freak out and almost get murdered. He saved my life for real, like, at least three or four times—think at this point he just owns my entire ass.”

Steve is tempted to ask why Eddie’s been avoiding him for the last six or seven years, if that’s the case, but he knows that’s not totally fair. Steve’s been doing a lot of avoiding too.

“Shoot,” says Helen. She’s still got an arm tucked into Eddie’s. “We’re all very grateful, Steve.”

Instead of saying I didn’t do it for you, Steve says, “Just, uh, glad I was there. I’m…gonna get some more wine.”

Robin catches him in the narrow hall leading to the kitchen. It’s a nice apartment, yeah, but Steve thinks the layout’s weird as hell compared to the right angles and neatly aligned walls of his place back in Hawkins.

“Everything okay, dingus?” she asks. The way the hall bends, they’re sheltered from the living room. It’s a soap bubble of privacy, fragile but whole.

“How do you handle people asking about—stuff?” Steve blurts out.

“It’s actually been easier here,” says Robin thoughtfully. “Because in Hawkins, people always think they know a lot more than they do. Remember how Vickie and I used to get into those big fights?”

Steve nods. He hadn’t really understood what was going on at the time, and Robin hadn’t been great at explaining. She’d talk up a storm, get all worked up, and at the end of it, all he’d get was that she was mad and Vickie didn’t understand why.

“Well, later on I realized that they’d always kick off when Vickie said something like, I know what you mean, or I was there too. Because she didn’t, and she wasn’t. With Ronnie, it’s like…she doesn’t get it, but she knows she doesn’t get it. It’s easier with her, I guess. How did you handle it with Laura?”

Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t, I guess. But she wasn’t, y’know. The One.”

“Still holding out for that fairy tale romance, huh?” Robin smiles. She’s just teasing him; she doesn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really not,” says Steve. “Listen, I’m gonna—” He holds up his empty glass and escapes to the kitchen.

Jeff’s there, pouring some wine into his own glass, and fills up Steve’s without being asked.

Steve nods at him in thanks. It feels a little rude to just turn around and leave immediately, so he leans against the counter and takes a drink.

“So, uh,” says Steve. “How’ve…you been? Since, uh, Hawkins.”

Jeff gives him a wry smile. He definitely knows that Steve doesn’t remember him at all. “Not bad,” he says, drumming his fingertips on the counter. “I’m just in town visiting family for the week; I’m actually at Michigan right now, studying to be a doctor. I want to specialize in geriatrics—like, taking care of old people? But right now I’m in the part where they shuttle you around to different specialties to get a taste for everything.” He makes a face. “Surgery definitely ain’t my thing.”

“Shit. A doctor, huh?” Steve shakes his head, surprised for no real reason. It’s not like he hadn’t known that people from Hawkins could be smart; hell, he’d dated Nancy Wheeler. But this seemed like the kind of smart that just didn’t fit into his memory of Hawkins High. Other than Nancy, who—last he’d heard—was still sharing an apartment with two other girls and fighting her way up the ladder of some paper in Boston, nobody he’s kept tabs on has really gotten successful in a big-city way. Like, the kind of successful that could be on a TV show.

“Yeah, I was always into science. Used to keep caterpillars in my room, see if I could get ‘em to turn into butterflies. Drove my mama crazy, ‘cause she hated having critters in the house. But I just thought it was so wild how the caterpillars could have a whole life crawling around on the ground, and then their insides just rearrange, and suddenly they can fly. I was such a dramatic little shit, I was so damn sure I’d grow wings too.” Jeff laughs. It’s surprisingly nasal for such a broad-shouldered guy, and Steve decides he likes how unselfconscious Jeff is about it.

Steve reaches out to clink their glasses together. “Hey, you did, didn’t you? Got outta Hawkins, got to chase your fancy doctor dreams.”

“Guess I did.” Jeff nods and takes a slow sip of his wine. “Look…tell me to fuck off if this is too much, huh? But I gotta ask. Why’d you stick around? Why not get outta Hawkins too? Not that we knew each other or anything, but…even from the Hellfire table, it didn’t seem like you were having the greatest time, either. At least, not by the end.”

Hellfire, right, that’s how Jeff knows Eddie. A vague, blurry memory of seeing them both in those dorky shirts is surfacing.

“It’s not too much,” says Steve. “I don’t mind you asking. Don’t know that I’ve got an answer, though. I just didn’t have a plan like you guys, I guess.”

“Buddy.” Jeff laughs in that nasal way again and claps Steve on the shoulder. “None of us had a plan. I guess I did, a little more than the rest of them, but—I thought I wanted to be an ER doc, you know? Which, damn. Definitely not my scene, as it turns out. You don’t leave your hometown because you already know what you want out of life, even if you think that’s what you’re doing.”

“Getting philosophical in the kitchen?” Eddie appears in the doorway, empty glass dangling from his fingertips. “Congrats on being a cliche, guys.” He’s smiling, and it looks real. Happiness looks good on him.

“What’re you drinking?” says Steve. “Let me top you up.”

#I may need to rewatch the relevant bits of s3 before I write the next part of purify our misfit ways #so I'm not sure what's coming next but I had most of this written already #in very standard Me fashion—I like this snippet much less than the previous two but I just need to post the draft so I can stop fussing #I never know what to do with the hellfire lads so I'm just creating a characterization from scratch here #fic: grace coming out of the void

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

A different type of exercise

Summary: You do your best to convince Slider to come back to bed, but he wants to finish a set before that...

Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x fem!reader

W/C: 1.6k

Rating: +18, size difference, daddy kink

TWs: none

A/N: Porn without plot. Also - don't distract someone lifting weights in real life, it's dangerous af. But beside that - enjoy!

Masterlist | List of tags

You didn't exactly know why your wonderful boyfriend liked to exercise in the middle of the night, and it's not like you were totally against it. What you really hated was waking up and not having him in bed with you...

And this time you woke up already horny and soaked... You didn't remember what you were dreaming about but it must have been amazing, because the feeling didn't want to go away, not allowing you to go back to sleep. And you definitely didn't want to take care of that yourself, when Ron was just in another room.

With a heavy sigh, you got out of bed and went to your home gym wearing only one of his old t-shirts.

He was currently getting ready to lay on the bench and start lifting, with his hands wrapped in tape and everything else prepared.

- Ronnie...? - you said, grabbing his attention, but not enough for him to stop. - Come to bed, I need you... - you knew that just by your tone he could tell that you weren't joking.

- One last set, doll, and I'll be there, I promise... - he replied, finding the right position, wrapping his hands around the bar, and lifting it in the air.

- You don't understand... I need you now... - your voice was low and full of that primal need, but he still assumed that you'll be able to manage 10 more minutes. He was wrong.

Seeing his muscles tense, his whole body working intensely on lowering and lifting the weights just did something to you... On a regular day you could watch his impressive physique for hours, no matter what he was doing, but now... Now watching wasn’t enough, so you slowly came closer to him and stood over the bench, giving him one last chance to stop, but he didn't... So you took matters into your own hands.

- Y/n... - he warned you when you lowered the band of his shorts and got closer to his exposed penis. You always had trouble with fitting his whole cock into your mouth, and you honestly tried to work on your gag reflex, but he was just... so big. Fortunately, you just needed him hard, not even caring how your actions affected him now. - Ffffffuck.... - he said, still trying to finish the set, but he was slowly losing count, with his dick quickly filling up in your warm, soft mouth. Not even half a minute later, you straddled him and with your hand, guided him inside you; he didn't even have time to react properly. Next to extreme pleasure, he felt that he was in real danger of getting stuck under the weights because you were distracting him so much.

So while you were slowly sinking down, taking him deeper and deeper, he finally lifted the bar one last time and rested it on the handles, just as your pussy swallowed him whole.

- Needy little thing... Couldn't even wait 10 minutes... Do you want daddy so bad...? - you eagerly nodded, enjoying the burning stretch without moving just yet, but you knew you wouldn't be able to stay still much longer. - Awww... Poor thing... Daddy's sorry he wasn't there to take care of you when you woke up. - he rose on the bench, changing the angle, which drew a long, deep moan from your mouth. He immediately drank it directly from a source, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away. - And you're taking me so well... Such a good little girl... - he smiled between the kisses and started taking off the shirt you were wearing; he wanted to see the bulge in your stomach and how it will move when you were ready to continue, which didn't take long.

You had to stand on your toes, just to rise enough to get half of him out of you, but you were determined to make it work, so instead of actually getting up, you started grinding against his body, trying your best to stimulate your clit. The sounds you were making were lewd, and he loved every single one of them... You could feel your juices making his pubic hair wet, somehow making them rougher, and the pleasant scratch only added to the stimulation, but even that wasn't enough... Your calves were twitching and spasming, ready to give up. You knew what you had to do...

- Daddy... - you were a mess... Your body was covered in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead, and you were already out of breath.

- Yes princess...? - he asked with a cheeky smile as if what you were doing wasn't affecting him at all.

- Please... - your voice cracked from desperation and you rested your head on his shoulder because you just... weren't strong enough.

- Please what, princess...? - you huffed in frustration and bit him. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but he definitely felt it, because he chuckled. He knew that you had trouble regulating your reactions when you were so desperately helpless, and he wouldn't mind even if you drew blood, because he loved being marked by you. - Use your words. - he requested in a soft tone, but you knew that if you didn't ask, he would inform you in that same soft tone dipped in honey that good girls ask for things nicely, and if you couldn't do that, it meant you didn't really want it... And that would be the end of the night... And that was something you just couldn't deal with.

- Daddy... Please fuck me... Make me cum and fill me up... - you said, suddenly embarrassed by your actions and words, hiding your face in the nook of his neck.

- Since you asked so nicely... - he teased, but his strong hands found their way under your ass and squeezed your cheeks hard; you knew well what that meant and you lifted your feet from the floor and crossed your ankles behind him. He shifted once more, moving his forearms under your thighs, giving himself more leverage to actually start moving your body, and then he slowly lifted you in the air, so only his tip stayed inside you, and you almost cried at the sudden emptiness, but you didn't have time to even think about complaining because he let the gravity work with him, and you literally fell onto his whole length. And then again... And again... He was using your body as a toy, and you were more than happy to let him because he was making you feel so good... He was dragging the tip against your g spot with every move, whispering sweet praises directly into your ear... How good you felt around him, how he loved that your tiny body was taking him without a hitch, how perfect your moans were, and how you should moan even louder...

And even through all the praises and compliments, you could hear the obscene sounds your pussy was making every time he entered, and even though you two did much kinkier things in the past, it made you blush because it was a clear sign how strongly Slider could affect your body. And with every move he was getting you closer and closer to the peak, but when you were almost there...

- Hold on, princess... just one minute longer... So we can cum together and your tight walls can milk me even harder. Ok...? - he asked, but you knew it wasn't a request, and something in you broke when he looked at you. You were so close, even stronger breath could push you over the edge, and yet he was intent on keeping you there for just a little longer. You nodded, tears of frustration and desperation streaming down your face, while he was still moving your body. You bit your lip so hard that you drew blood, trying your best not to cum. It was hard and he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he moved one hand to your lower abdomen and pressed on it hard at the same time as he said. - Now you can cum... - as soon as the words left his mouth, the tightly woven cord in your core unraveled and you slumped against Ron's torso, so checked out, that you didn't even realize what exactly happened when you came.

It took you a few minutes to come back to consciousness...

Slider's arm was still tightly wrapped around your waist, while his second hand was gently playing with your hair... He was still panting, and so were you, but you also realized something else... Everything was... wet. And not from sweat...

- I've made a mess, didn't I...? - you asked quietly, your cheeks on fire.

- A beautiful mess, princess... I just wish I could have drank it all straight from a source. - he grinned, a plan already forming in his head. It's not like it was the first time you squirted, but it wasn't happening often, so it was always a pleasant surprise. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. - You were perfect... - small praise, but it made you grin like an idiot.

- Carry me to bed...? - you requested quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he started to stand up, a change of position making his cock fall out of you, and with it, you could feel sticky cum sliding down your thigh.

- Quick shower first... - he pressed another gentle kiss, this time to your temple and you couldn't help but smile.

A/N 2: Please don't feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. But I would really appreciated if you commented :) Love, G.

#my writing #Ron Kerner Fanfiction #Ron Slider Kerner Fanfiction #Slider Fanfiction #Top Gun fanfiction #Top Gun Smut #Ron Kerner x reader #Ron Slider Kerner x reader #Slider x reader #Ron Kerner smut #Ron Slider Kerner smut #Slider smut #🧰#🎤#💋#🎀#📏#🔥

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therrerium-valkryonia · 1 year

Text

Clock Out (MY Ver.)

(Title Inspired by: @rotrighthrough Ver. of the same name)

Veronica works at a very perverted environment and being in a mostly male powered monetary accountant, she was in a bad place but also she was slightly financially stable and could not take any chances being an German-Canadian immigrant, she was struggling in America and every decision could cost a lot and switching jobs and or countries is risky but she gets her money by her hourglass fit figure and heavily pregnant beauty but she is now in her private cubicle, 9 months pregnant and in labor and water broken thoroughly and only having 4 hours left in her shift, sitting uncomfortably in her chair with a contracting abdomen, distracted from her properly working as she is bearing the singeing pain. Veronica having the cursed wardrobe of tight latex underwear tightly rending her pussy and her leather mini-skirt being the shortest and tightest thing that she could wear making her feel more exposed and her tight black thighhighs makes things worse in more ways than one . Then her boss Mr. Trent catches her pained expression, grins and walks over to her. "Oh, Shit",

"Hey Ronnie, darling you good?" Veronica wanted to destroy this man "I'm doing great, thank you Mr. Trent" She said in a very humbly, staring away from the computer. Her boss rub his crusty, oily hands on the tense white tux shirt fabric on top of the very sensitive belly. "Great, Good to hear. Umm, If you don't mind could you get me a coffee, now would you." 'That Dick" Veronica slowly got up and even thou, she felt the baby plummet down when she stood up with the head now brimming beyond the vagina. Mr. Greed looking under her skirt and grabbing the head, " Have we got a little accident down under?". Veronica Grunting and pissed replies "No, sir." Mr. Greed Chuckles “Good, because if that bastard child is birthed in my office you’re ass is so fired.” Veronica's breath hitched but she nodded. "Good girl".

Veronica hobbling off to get Mr. Trent his coffee and curses to herself when she can't be heard. She reaches the coffee machine and leaned against the counter, breathing her way through a searing contraction. When it subsides, she's made the coffee and waddled it over to Mr. Greed, He gives her a hefty slap on her ass that made her quiver considerably, "Good girl". Smiling at her. Him looking under her skirt at her bulging lingerie and his grin widens considerably. "Do you want to quit now and cut your losses?". He asked snobbishly. Veronica shaking her head. "No, Sir." Her Boss hummed and smiled. "Then back to work, no need to waste time with chit chat".

Veronica returned to her desk to see that her chair had been removed. Her female coworker; Trinity notices her expression and giggles. "Boss says best you have a standing desk you lose weight." She looked Veronica up and down and grinned, eyes pounding at the babies bulging head between her jerking legs. She walked over to her and slid a hand under skirt, brushing her fingers over the baby's head. She was about to punish her but a searing contraction came over her and she grits her teeth and almost collapsing to her knees, resting in overwhelming urge to push. "Ay I'll give you my chair for a price". Trinity purred, groping the breasts of Veronica and making her leak out her fitted tux shirt. "F-Fuck off Trinity". She stammered "Ok Sorry, Jeez. I'll watch that the kid isn't out on company time, Mr. Trent will thank me." Veronica furrowing her brows and locates another swiveling chair and pulls it over to her desk. The minute she takes a seat however, she could feel the baby's head move forward fast, it throbbed against her tortured labia, pressing down against it forcing it back into her. Singing pain spread all over her body but she manages to ignore it and work as best as possible.

About 2 and a half hours later, she so thoroughly soaked her tux shirt was practically transparent. Her Contractions we're now back to back, giving her no respite from the wretching pain. her belly was as hard as a smooth rock, packed with suppressed contractions. She knew she 1:30 minutes left of work but she could feel her purple pussy burn that she fears that it might tear, the baby's head is pushing against the tight fabric of her panties. She could feel herself pushing and despite trying to stop, it was impossible. The thick fog of pain overtook her and her body started to push on it's own, the head and neck now fully out. Luckily her tight panties prevented the baby from coming out any further. She bit into her knuckles to silence her moans and groans.

Mr. Trent came over to her desk and leaned against it. "mind standing up for me, hun?" He asked with a grin. Veronica didn't even know if it was possible, the strain on her steel herd belly made sitting more painful than any other pain she ever felt before in her life, let alone standing. She braced against the table and stood up slowly, knees twitching. Mr. Trent Excited in watching her suffer, her face already red in heat and tiredness She looked down at his pants and bulge begins to form, 'Creep' He looked down at her translucent tux shirt and soaked chest, then took a look under her leather mini-skirt, now covered in birthing fluid. "You remember our deal, right." He said mockingly. Veronica gritting her teeth and nodded. Mr. Trent giving her a hard slap on her belly sending a hellish pain throughout it and forcing her to squat down, pushing hard, however the stretched out fabric had no more give and after a few minutes of squatting and panting, she shakily got up again, face flushed and sweaty. Mr. Greed chuckling "Y'know I can give a release right? Right now, you can quit now if you want" Mr. Trent's smirk brought back all the defiance back into Veronica and she stood as straight as she could, shaking her head. "I'm gonna need that said aloud doll face." Veronica swallowed a thick glob of spit and shakily said "N-No I- I can" another contraction struck her and she collapsed onto her knees, the baby pushing wildly against her swollen pussy. Mr. Trent kneeled down and looking under her skirt along with all 22 co-workers just surrounding her, all accepting that she has given up, well that's where they fucked up "I can wait a half hour to clock out just let me handle this baby would you?" All very surprised and disappointed return to their desks.

Veronica stood up and leaned against the desk and takes a seat, sitting against her smoldering tortured pussy and pushing the baby back slightly and in smoldering and singeing pain she rocks back and forth in her moving swiveling chair as to compensate for the pain, her diamond blue eyes starting to tear up, feeling the baby's shoulders but then her tight latex undergarments preventing it and it stings Veronica and no matter how she tries she can't stop the constant pain and she even flattened a scrunchie with her teeth to silence whatever noise of pain she makes. Veronica having only 12 and a half minutes left, now only 11 minutes left to go, she slowly gets up to get water and hears a snap and her tight underwear ripped open. The baby's head plummeting and she screeches out in agony but at an instant but even then all her co-workers and even Mr. Trent comes and crowds around Veronica taking turns looking under her ruined skirt and the barging head between it. "Looks there's not much choice now Ronnie, Just let it happen." her diamond eyes glanced over to the clock, 8 minutes. Fuck NO. She clamped a hand over wildly bulging pussy, now swelling and nearly purple along tear dropped shaped to prevent the baby from going any further. Blood and Labor fluids dripped and flowed between her fingers and she could the sweat between her black hairs and her knees trembling so much, she feared they wouldn't be enough. Only 5 minutes to go, she had this in the bag.

She got up and fell backwards against the wall and fell back down to her knees, hand on the babies head and crossing her legs as tightly as possible and the pain intensified drastically and made her hyper sensitive to everything. her female co-worker looked down at her fearfully and eagerly. 3 minutes.... 2 minutes.. shit. Her boss places both hands and prying her legs open, the baby falling out quickly but her hands pushing it back in, a searing and constant pain goes across her belly and vagina even more fluid and blood drops and flows down, 1 minute..... 45 seconds... 32 seconds and Veronica's vision starts blacking out but then she gets up after hearing 10 seconds.... 5 seconds..... 3 seconds, 2 seconds, 1 seconds and times up! "Impre-" Veronica waddles off quickly and tries to get to her car but a strong contraction makes her bend over and grip door and waddles quickly towards the storage room enters and closes the door as she walks down the dark hallway and sits down leans her back against the wall and grabs her thighs with both hands and widens them then pushes as hard as she can and the baby is born and she falls to her side and pulls her baby to her chest.

HR got a heavily aggressive email, got her a raise and her boss gets fired, so eyy. She won eventually.

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aki-draws-things · 3 months

Note

Might I be able to ask for Ron finding a big dog on the side of the road and having to take care of it by himself until Tom and Chris get home because he knows his boyfriends would never forgive him for leaving it.

He might get lightly bit. It’s only a small little mark on his arm but Tom freaks. Chris is less freaked but makes him go and get a rabies test. Ron might almost drown giving it a bath. He’s soaked through by the time they find him. The dog doesn’t really like to listen to Chris or Tom. It ends up mostly Ron’s dog. He begrudgingly ends up liking it.

Hey dear!!!! @oh-surprise-its-me

It got a bit out from the prompt but... there, Ronnie baby finding Tokyo, who will become his future service dog ❤️❤️

Took a while but hey! I know what having a dog feels now!!!

Ron had no intention to do that. Ever.

No way at all.

He got used to it. Them.

All the dogs and cats and things Chris managed to get home, accidentally or not so much, but him? Voluntarily doing it?

Nope. Not a chance.

Except---

The dog was looking, staring, at him from the side of the road, chocolate eyes staring right at his soul and ears pulled down, tail tucked beneath the paws.

Submissive. Scared. Terrified.

Traumatized, Ron's mind supplied, and he hated it with a burning passion because as he stared back he felt like he knew those eyes.

Sighing he moved closer. The dog did growl, but she didn't snarl at him.

She trembled as Ron lifted a hand slowly, maybe expecting to be hit, but she didn't cower.

Yeah, Ron knew that too.

"Hey... brave girl."

He whispered, letting her sniff at his hand before crouching in front of her and slowly, tentatively, patting her head.

She whined.

"Come?" He found himself whispering, scoffing just slightly, he was out for a jog, not to do what Chris always did, bring home rescues. "My boyfriend would have my head if he found out I left you out there, girl. And my other boyfriend would try to guilt trip me too."

He stood and moved a couple of steps away, but she didn't. Instead, she lifted a paw, crimson red was matting the golden fur.

"You're hurt, mh? Hurts to walk, I guess?"

He stepped closer again and lifted the dog in his arms.

"Be good and don't bite me, okay?"

He muttered. In response, she put her head on his shoulders, cold snout against his neck.

Trust.

She trusted the first stranger who showed a bit of kindness. It reminded Ron of someone. Of himself. When he met Tom, and Tom was the first kid not to pick on him.

"Alright... I guess it's-- alright."

No one was home when he got back with the ball of fur half his size and not as light as she probably thought she was.

"Let me give you a little bath and wait for Chris to see that, mh?"

Ten minutes later Ron was drenched. The dog was drenched. And Tom's cat scratched Ron on the cheek when he tried to move him out of the room.

The door opened and the first thing Tom and Chris saw was their boyfriend sitting in the middle of the bathroom, with water everywhere and a dog that wasn't theirs sitting in front of him with the injured paw on his leg.

"I... can explain?"

Chris remained serious only for a moment before grinning and moving to pat her.

For the first time, she growled. Ron was in between in a heartbeat.

"No no no Tokyo it's okay. He's okay. He's good."

Chris took a step back.

"He's good. I promise. I promise."

The growl turned in a soft whine and she pushed her head against Ron's shoulder.

"Okay." Chris agreed. "Okay, I leave you to Ronnie. She seems to really like you."

"She acts like him, Chris, it's different. That's why she trusts him."

Obviously, Ron thought, Tom would pick it up that fast.

Tokyo whined again, and moved her paw.

"But I don't know how to do it, chrisy is the expert here. Let him see the paw?"

It took a bit of coaxing here and there, a little snarl, and some more cuddles before Chris managed to disinfect and wrap the paw.

"So... mind telling us what happened? How did you find yourself with a dog, baby?"

Ron hesitated. Tokyo was curled on the couch, snout pressed against his side, asleep.

"Found her on the side of the road... thought you two wouldn't forgive me if I left her there..."

"Of course, we would've forgone you, baby."

Tom interjected softly.

"And she looked scared. But not of me somehow..."

"She looked like you when we met. Wary, but craving something nice."

Ron didn't admit that.was what he thought at first. He knew Tom would notice.

Chris just smiled, he shifted closer and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I guess she's yours, now. Or you're hers."

Ron couldn't help but smile slightly, his fingers buried in the soft fur between her ears.

"Guess that's it now..."

"Why calling her Tokyo, anyway? I mean, it's a good name, but--"

Ron blushed.

"Tried to make her sit several times, but she only agreed when I said it in Japanese."

Of course, leave it to Ron to try to make her sit in several other languages.

#ron slider kerner #tom iceman kazansky #Chris Seresin #chrisxronxtom #ron will get a service dog he basically rescue from the streets #tokyo only answer properly to him #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction #aki writes

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 1 year

Note

Bestie if I may request Jake and Ronnie’s wedding night 🥴

uh yes you absolutely may kee

in case you missed it: the wedding chapter

word count: 1645

warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (jake being a bit of a tease and is highkey possessive lol, vaginal fingering, unprotected pinv, wife kink, slight breeding kink, creampie, little bit of cockwarming, have some emotions with your porn)

✎……masterlist on pinned

They stepped outside for some air, the other aviators not paying much attention as they drank and partied. Ronnie walked up to the porch railing, letting the cool breeze off the water push back her hair as Jake closed the doors behind them. The music from the jukebox was muffled, the laughter inside distant as the sound of the waves took over.

It was their first moment truly alone since he got back — since they got married.

Ronnie heard his footsteps behind her as he approached like they were the only sound in the universe. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her fingers as they fought to shake against her grip on the railing, the insistent need that welled up inside her the closer he got. It was like she was on fire, a blaze of glory that would leave her in smoldering embers if he didn’t put her out soon. The dance, the kiss that sealed them together forever, all of that was well and good but it wasn’t what she needed. It wasn’t what she craved in order to feel put back together again, in order to even feel like a person again. Jake stood with his chest flush against her back. Each of his breaths fanning against her neck as he wrapped his large hands around her ribs.

Something like a whimper got caught in her throat at the contact. A desperate thing that made Jake pause.

“You okay?” he questioned softly, giving her a gentle squeeze that made her back arch against his chest.

“Mm — no,” she managed to get out as she continued to wriggle against him, unsure how to even voice what she needed from him now.

Jake grinned against the flesh of her neck, having some clue. With a small smile he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush with his front. She gasped, knuckles white around the railing, when she felt his own need against her ass — making him chuckle deep in his throat.

“What do you need, darlin’?” he hummed in her ear, his fingers slowly trailing down her side to the hem of her dress.

She was untethered, unanchored, adrift in the open air and the open ocean with no hope of survival or coming back to safe shores. But there was a lighthouse in the distance, an oasis, a sandbar that promised safe passage and a warm welcome and maybe even living instead of surviving. Jake brought this to her as his hand pulled up the hem of her dress, fingers skirting along the tops of her thighs as he inched ever closer to where something ached with a ferocity that nearly hurt. It was all too much, all that she wanted to tell him. I missed you, I love you, I was so scared, since when did all that I am become attached to you, how dare you see me and know me and accept me anyway, we’re married, we’re moving to DC, I want a life with you that’s Sunday dinners and shrieking laughter. It was all filling up her chest, leaving little room for air. She feared it was going to be released in a scream.

But instead, it came rushing out in a desperate whisper as a river with a dam finally broken, “Jake, I need you, please. I need you so bad.”

“That’s it, sweets,” he groaned as he pushed her soaked underwear to the side, causing her to jerk against him as he whispered against her neck, “That’s it.”

His fingers merely brushed against her clit and her head fell back against his shoulder, giving him the perfect view of her breasts as her chest heaved with some herculean effort to breathe. He rubbed small, slow circles — precise and expert, just like flying — and reveled in the way her mouth fell open and her hands clutched at his forearms lightly. With his other hand, he held her firm against him, slowly grinding his hard member into her ass as he easily slid two fingers inside her dripping hole.

“Jake,” she breathed out, her head turning only slightly to press a gentle kiss to the base of his neck. “It’s not…”

She didn’t have to say it this time. He felt it too. It wasn’t enough. Everything needed to be Ronnie. Everything needed to be Jake. It was that kind of need they built monuments to, that sculptors worked marble for, that painters tried desperately to capture. He pulled his fingers from her heat and she cried out quietly at the loss. But she went willingly as he led them over to the wall beside the backdoor, just out of reach of the flood light.

“Turn around.” His voice was deep and rough, making a surge of need like molten lava go through her as he looked down at her.

Ronnie followed his direction and put her hands on the wall of The Hard Deck. The siding was rough beneath her fingers. A belt was undone and a zipper pulled down, her dress hitched up around her waist and underwear pulled down past her knees. Her hands were covered by Jake’s in the next moment, his body blanketing the back of hers. Like he wanted to touch as much of her as possible as he molded his flesh to hers as best he could. Jake threaded their fingers together as he pushed inside her, a low noise echoing in her ear as she tried not to cry.

“Jake,” she sobbed as he stilled inside her, a moment to breathe.

“My sweet little wife.” He kissed her shoulder tenderly despite the absolute sin between them. “How d’you feel?”

“So…” She pulled one of their interlinked hands down, gliding it over her belly to that low spot where it bulged around him. He groaned into the flesh of her shoulder as his hips twitched. “So full.”

He pushed their hands against that spot where he could feel himself and she moaned brokenly, chin dropped down to her chest.

“Oh, God,” she cried out softly, head falling back against his shoulder when he did it again.

“Nah, Jake’ll do just fine, darlin’.” He smirked lazily.

She laughed. Genuinely laughed. “Cheeky bastard.”

Then he began to move; deep, languid thrusts with nearly all his weight behind it. Pushed her until her chest was firmly against the wall and she was gasping directly in his ear. He dropped their interlinked hands down, under her skirt and between her legs, his fingers making her own slide against herself to create that perfect amount of friction.

With every thrust, she felt herself coming back. Coming back to reality. Coming back to earth. Being grounded by Jake Seresin and all that he was and all that they were going to be — together. It built and built until she couldn’t stop saying his name. It just kept falling from her lips like a chant, a prayer to some intimate god. A gasp, a whimper, a cry was released as she came. Her fingers squeezed around his tight, some desire to feel him everywhere as she was brought to this final release — as she was transformed into a white-hot, freshly born star. As she spasmed around him, Jake’s thrusts became faster, his own little moans tickling her ear as he was brought closer and closer.

“Fuck, Ronnie,” he whispered, breathless as he chased it. “Where d’you want me?”

“Everywhere,” she replied.

She felt his cock twitch inside her and she keened as she forced their conjoined hands out from under her skirt — away from her abused pussy. Jake groaned, dropping his face into her shoulder, hips working faster.

“Fuck — you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispered into the shell of her ear before he took her earlobe between his teeth. “Want me to fill you up, is that it? Have me dripping out of you the rest of the night?”

How could she possibly explain this to him now? How could she possibly tell him that she wanted to carry around a piece of him forever?

Ronnie shifted their hands over that bulge in her belly again. “Please…Want it…”

“Fuck, fuck — mm, my sweet little wife.” His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he teetered on the edge, his mouth spewing absolute filth. “Mine. Want them to see — want them to know who makes you feel this good. Your husband fucks you so good.”

“You — so good. Yours,” she breathed out as the coil inside her tightened yet again. “Yours, all yours. All of me — forever.”

Jake made a noise like he’d just been punched in the gut, a soft little oomf as he finally stilled inside her. As he spilled rope after rope of his seed into her. A cry died in her throat as she came for the second time, head thrown back against his shoulder as she milked him for all that he was worth. But when he tried to slip out of her, his breathing ragged, she untangled her hand from his against her stomach and gripped the back of his thigh.

“Stay like this,” she panted, fingers gripping his pants tight. “Just for a minute — please.”

Who was he to deny her? He stayed, rooted to the hilt with his spend dripping down her legs. As he held his wife, pressed soft kisses into her hair that he hoped told her all that she needed to hear, he caught their intertwined hands pressed against the wall. It was their left hands. Both adorned with rings that glinted in the moonlight. His didn’t fit right, but that didn’t matter. He smiled fondly at the sight as his other hand wrapped around her, pushed her back further into him as his hand curled around her ribs.

“I love you — so much,” he finally whispered.

“I love you too.”

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farragoofwires · 2 months

Text

don' dweeblog

While I'm on my soapbox about niche things I am right about but no one else is nor cares, people LOVE* to import Ronnie Soak into Good Omens fanfic and like, fine, we've already thrown out the concept of only 4 horsemen because clearly other concepts can emerge into sentience and start destroying stuff. We're already on the 5th horseman. Fine.

But Death in the discworld is clearly not the same character as Death in Good Omens. They're just obvious distinct from each other.

Good Omens Chaos should be obviously distinct from Ronnie Soak. I'm right about this.

#f: go #m: go #*i've seen it happen like twice from authors i like and at other times from fics i have not clicked on.

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coyote-nebula · 9 months

Text

coatroom

Selina is roped into Seven Minutes in Heaven with Bruce. She spends five of those minutes figuring out why he looks so heartbroken.

HSB Bingo prompt: Hugs Word count: 1000 Characters: Selina Kyle & Bruce Wayne Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, one-sided romantic interest that segues back into longterm friendship

🥂

“Ronnie,” Bruce hedged, voice too flat and rough for the party, “don’t you think we’re a little old for this?”

“Not at all,” Veronica laughed. “And don’t give us any of that false modesty, Bruce, you’ve been studiously not studying Selina since you got here, and everyone else may not know you well enough to know what that means, but you can’t fool a friend. Now get in there!”

Champagne-soaked laughter rippled through the group. Two or three sloshed looking men of various ages all but leered at Selina, and she clamped down on a rude gesture before turning to Bruce with a leer of her own. “Come on, Bruce,” she purred. “You heard the lady.”

He met her eyes and the unusually thin Brucie mask softened, conforming to tired eyes and a wrinkle faintly creasing the center of his forehead. He offered his arm.

She smiled demurely and looped hers through his to the soft jeering of a few other guests. Bruce’s head snapped up at something she didn’t hear, muscles coiling, and with a flash of precognition she sunk her nails into his arm to head off whatever fistfight he was contemplating. He was a raw nerve tonight. Probably not fit to be at this kind of asinine social hour at all, between his vacant pauses and exhausted swaying.

They passed through the coatroom doorway together, Veronica curtsying with a flourish before shutting the door behind them.

“Seven minutes, Bruce, make them count!” she called, barely audible through the thick door.

Bruce didn’t look at Selina immediately— he first scanned the room, the few hung summer sweaters and the plush benches, the carved corners of the closet organizers and the spotless mirror. He withdrew a scanner from his pocket and sighed softly at NO LISTENING DEVICES DETECTED on the small display before his shoulders slumped and his head tipped towards her.

Selina felt her smirk fall as she took in his pinched expression. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He swallowed, probably composing a kevlar strength deflection.

Well, that wouldn’t stand.

She stepped closer and put a hand to his neck. He leaned into her palm.

“I can tell something’s up,” she warned. “Don’t even try your bullshit on me.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it and looked away, eyes squeezing shut.

Selina cupped his cheek in her other hand and turned his face back to her gently. “Bruce. You’re starting to freak me out,” she said, staying low for any voyeurs hanging around the door. A pang of anxiety brushed her ribs. “Are the kids okay? Alfred?”

Bruce covered the hand on his cheek with his, eyes cracking to peer forlornly down at her. “I… can’t.”

Ominous. Batman didn’t typically talk about things, certainly not to Catwoman, but he usually didn’t sound so tempted.

She hummed; she had six minutes to change his mind. “Alright,” she whispered, glancing at his lips and running the hand on his neck up to his jaw, bracketing his face. “Any suggestions for killing time?”

He curled fingers around her hand, taking it into his and pulling it against his chest. “Come here?” he asked quietly, with a slight rasp that lit something warm inside her.

Normally she teased, lined him with her body in a futile bid to tempt; that was hardly necessary the way he was looking at her now, and frankly she was curious what he’d do with the open vulnerability pinking his cheeks. Batman and even Bruce were experts at denial, especially to themselves, but now…

His hand— huge, deft— slid around the back of her head and the other around her shoulders. She eyed his mouth, already tasting bitter coffee and devouring fire— but he gently pulled her off that trajectory.

A brief moment of disorientation later, she was being hugged against the body-warm linen of his dress shirt and smooth silk of his jacket instead.

When his arms tightened, pressing her snugly against his chest, the warmth that poured into her wasn’t the kind she expected at all— chaste and a little concerning in its poignancy.

He completed caging her in with his cheek against her hair and a heavy sigh.

Selina sighed quietly herself, soaking. She had witnessed a hefty number of Bruce Wayne makeouts but only a few hugs during their lengthy acquaintance— one for a tiny Dick Grayson returning from a kidnapping attempt, one for Jason Todd after he’d survived fire, one or two others for the kids at the edge of sight. So, not exactly what she was expecting here.

No complaints, though. He was good at it.

She realized abruptly that she was standing with her arms loosely at her sides; she threaded them around Bruce’s back and held tight.

He melted, which was as endearing as it was alarming.

She breathed warm cotton and the vague lemon of wood polish; no cologne tonight.

“Bruce,” she whispered cautiously. “You’re not hurt, right?”

He held a little tighter.

“Bruce.”

“I did something,” he breathed.

“You are a notorious doer of things.”

Her quip fell flat over his increasingly tense stillness.

She frowned. “So? Spill.”

He drew back slowly, but he didn’t let go.

“I almost—” Bruce stopped with a sharp breath, almost like needing to breathe surprised him. “I wounded Red Hood last night. He almost died. He may still die.”

Selina searched his averted, reddened eyes, skeptical. Red Hood was burning and plundering Gotham’s drug network. Rumor had it that he was more efficient than Falcone and more brutal than Black Mask. “And…?”

“I had to recruit a surgical team. He… I left him to come here. Bruce Wayne needed an alibi.”

Selina regarded him cautiously. “You’re hiding him?”

Bruce had lost focus, was somewhere else entirely.

She shook him a little.

He didn’t exactly rouse, but he yielded, folded inward as she pulled him back into the hug.

Selina rubbed a circle on his back, thoughts churning. “Why him?”

“It’s Jason,” he said miserably, close to her ear. “Jason is Red Hood.”

🥂

view on ao3 (you will need to log in)

Notes: Veronica opens the door after seven minutes and the coatroom is empty. They've vanished through the ceiling tiles. Where do they go? You decide. I didn't think ahead that far 😂 🦇 [bat] Bruce is going to spontaneously combust if he doesn't get back to the Batcave to check up on Jason. They go, Alfred shoos them, Bruce shows Selina his favorite manor roof moping spot 🧇 [waffle] Selina takes Bruce to Waffle House, because the party only had caviar and vodka and if she's going to emotionally support Bruce through his crisis she needs to not be starving to death ❓ [?] secret third thing (tell me)

#bruce wayne #selina kyle #batcat #batfic #my fic

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voraciousvore · 6 months

Text

Big Corp Inc. (18/43)

Chapter 18: Confrontation

Martin took Candy into the bathroom and washed his saliva off of her in the sink with hand soap. She giggled as his Giant fingers rubbed her body down with slippery suds. She adored his touch. Martin smiled and admired how cute she was.

“Cover your ears,” he instructed her mildly, then held her under the automatic hand dryer. Candy did not like this part as much and cowered down in the cup of his soft palm as she was blasted with air. As unpleasant as the noise was, she was at least dry and clean now. Martin removed her from the dryer and gazed at her tenderly. He planted another soft kiss on her side and she reciprocated with a kiss of her own as she brushed her small hands against his enormous lips.

“Did you enjoy your cake?” Candy asked him.

“Oh yes, absolutely! I liked it even better with it crumbled up all over you. You’re like a little cupcake!” the Giant replied with a flirtatious wink. Candy giggled again, and Martin felt his heart sing along with the mirthful sound. He was glad to see her feeling better after she had been crying. ��I suppose we should get some actual work done today. I’ll escort you back to your desk.” Martin held her securely in his hand, up to his torso, as he left the bathroom. Candy rested against the soft fabric of his suit, soaking in the warmth of his huge body. She rocked gently with every large stride he made as he walked.

As Martin rounded a corner, he happened to run into Ronny going the opposite direction. Ronny scowled at Martin with irritation. When he noticed Martin was holding Candy, he glared daggers at her with his dark, cold eyes. Candy whimpered and Martin covered her with his other hand protectively. Ronny pushed past Martin roughly and kept walking, clenching his jaw with ire. In his view, Candy looked too happy with Martin. He wanted her to be miserable.

Martin held Candy defensively against his body and peeked down at her inside his hands. She was trembling, with her eyes squeezed shut as she huddled against him for comfort. “Are you alright, Candy?” he asked her softly. Candy looked up at him and nodded.

“He scares me,” she whispered. “Since I’ve been here, every interaction I’ve had with him has been a nightmare, because he always finds some new way to torment me.”

“Like how?” Martin inquired. His brows folded down in anger. He wasn’t aware that the cake incident hadn’t been the first time he’d bullied her.

“Let’s see... he wouldn’t let me out of his cup when I fell in, and almost gulped me down with his coffee. He threw me into the refrigerator and trapped me inside. He flicked me in the head, knocked me out, and stashed me in Mr. Hardon’s bag. And he smashed my cake all over me. He’s just an awful, miserable Giant who is going out of his way to make me suffer for no reason.” She reached up and touched the swollen welt on her forehead as a reminder of his cruelty.

“Wait—refrigerator? Is that how you ended up in my sandwich? That was Ronny’s doing?” Candy nodded glumly. The mystery was finally solving itself for Martin as the pieces fell into place. “And yesterday, when you were lost in Mr. Hardon’s neighborhood—that was his fault too?!” Candy affirmed with another movement of her head. Martin ground his teeth with outrage. He always though Ronny was a jerk, but he hadn’t realized just how bad the man was. His antics had been enough to nearly kill the poor woman, several times over. The Giant bully needed to be taught a lesson. “I’m sorry all that happened to you, Candy. I’ll make sure it doesn’t occur again.”

By now, they were at Candy’s desk. Martin set her down on the surface and stroked her with his finger. She wrapped her arms around it in a hug. “I’ll see you around, Candy. Thank you for the cake.” He smiled, and she returned the gesture warmly and released her hold on his digit. As he ambled away, his smile faded into a frown. He had some serious business to attend to.

Mr. Hardon watched the pair from inside his office. He was astonished to see Candy back in the office, after what happened back at his house. He thought he had scared her off by devouring her, but apparently he underestimated her fortitude. Witnessing the interaction between Martin and Candy made him feel odd too, in a different way. He saw how Martin stroked her, how she hugged his finger with her delicate arms. Their affection for each other elicited a negative reaction in him. Was he... jealous? He shook his head to clear the feeling away. That wasn’t possible. Candy belonged to him; he was merely being possessive. He stood up and skulked over to her.

Candy didn’t notice him at first, as she logged on to her computer, until he overshadowed her. She stiffened at the inky blackness that covered her desk and slowly turned around. When she recognized who was standing over her, she squeaked with terror, fell over on her side, and scrambled to get away. She scurried around her keyboard and hid behind her computer monitor, quaking. Mr. Hardon sighed. He should have expected this reaction after what happened.

“I’m not going to eat you, Candy. Come out,” he ordered. Candy’s knees weakened at his command. She was too scared to move. She started to sweat as her breaths came out in rapid bursts. “If you don’t come out, I’ll move that computer monitor, take you into my office, and punish you,” the Giant threatened darkly. Candy felt like she was going to faint. She knew her hiding spot was no good as it was, from when Ronny had lifted up his giant monitor like it was nothing. She crawled out into the open, feeling nauseous and dizzy. “There you are. Good girl.”

“W-what do you w-want with me, sir?” she choked. She was shaking so hard, she couldn’t maintain her footing and her legs collapsed beneath her, bringing her to her knees. In that moment, she felt like her soul was vacating her body.

Mr. Hardon tilted his gigantic head. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to get a feel for where you’re at.” He paused. “To be honest, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Candy had to restrain herself from curling up into a fetal position. She clasped her hands together and tried to control her shivering, to no avail. She tried to speak but couldn’t form words in her mouth. Mr. Hardon looked down his nose at her contemptuously, savoring her terror. He liked the feeling of being feared. He reached his hand down, filling Candy’s vision for a moment as he encircled his fingers around her. Candy yelped but was powerless to do anything as he lifted her the large distance to his face. He examined her coldly with his pale blue eyes.

“Out of the generosity of my great heart, I will excuse your absence yesterday, and your tardiness today. Know, however, that you are on a tight leash. Any mistakes on your part, and I’ll have to teach you some discipline. Understand?” He cocked an eyebrow.

Candy, cowering down in his palm, nodded frantically, still unable to speak. Her response satisfied the Giant, so he dropped her back down on her desk and returned to his own office. He observed her as she raced to get her work done. He knew if he pushed her any further she would probably be too scared to come in to work, regardless of how desperate she was, so he held himself back. He could be patient. He was pleased just to have her return to work, and to see how afraid she was. He enjoyed it immensely.

Meanwhile, Martin roved through the office, searching for Ronny. When he spotted the Giant, he walked up behind him and grabbed him on the shoulder. “Come with me, Ronny,” he demanded, dragging him by force into an empty conference room and closing the door behind him.

“What the hell, Martin?” Ronny complained, pulling out of his grip. The two Giants glared at each other.

“What’s your problem with Candy? Why are you harassing her?” Martin asked, taking a step forward. He was both taller and broader than Ronny, and used his physical stature to his advantage to intentionally intimidate him.

“What’s it to you?” Ronny answered, retreating a small step. “Why do you give a shit what happens to her? She’s just a dumb human.”

“She is a person, Ronny, human or not,” Martin growled. “She deserves basic respect.” He took another stride forward, forcing Ronny up to the wall. Ronny tried to sidestep him and leave, but Martin shoved him up against the wall. He knocked his coffee cup out of his hand, spilling coffee all over the floor, and grabbed his suit in his hands. With his face inches away from Ronny’s he bared his teeth and said, “Stay away from her from now on. Leave her alone. Or else I will make you wish you’d never been born.” Ronny scoffed and turned his head away, but Martin could tell he was shaken. He pressed his weight down harder on the man, and Ronny winced in pain.

“Fine, whatever. I won’t touch her,” Ronny finally muttered. “Get off me, you hulking oaf!” Martin released him, staring intensely at him before backing off and leaving the conference room, shutting the door behind him harder than necessary. Ronny scowled at his back as he left, straightened out his suit, and ran his fingers over his slicked-back hair. He reclaimed his mug off the ground, splattered with coffee. His hand was quivering as he picked it up.

Martin, when he got a safe distance away, released a breath and felt the tension leave his body. He wasn’t a violent man by nature, and wasn’t in the habit of threatening people. Even though he was a big guy, even by Giant standards, he was typically respectful and reserved and didn’t throw his brawn around. He was gentle by nature.

In this case, though, he was dealing with a mean bully, so he knew using physical intimidation was the best course of action, as detestable as he found it to utilize such a tactic. When it came to Candy’s safety, he felt a duty to protect her, regardless of how unsavory the means may be. She was so small and helpless. She had no way to defend herself from the likes of a huge Giant like Ronny. Martin felt justified in his actions, considering her life had been threatened multiple times. If necessary, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to, he would go so far as to beat Ronny to a bloody pulp if intimidation didn’t work, and a show of force became requisite to subdue him.

Martin returned to his desk and got to work, typing on his desktop. Back at her desk, Candy was typing as well. She was painfully aware of the eyes watching her from Mr. Hardon’s open office, and the monster who lurked just a few cubicles down from her own. She didn’t feel safe at all. She had no option but to hope for the best.

Chapter 19

First chapter

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #giant #tiny #size difference #g/t fluff #giant tiny #big corp inc

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