#7 and a half hours and she’s giving me a ride and i’m gonna kill muself i feel so bad and i can’t express that with her and i’m gonna keep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunnysviolin · 3 years

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Oh god that. That shattered AU broke me. Kel angst is my new horrible addiction and I swear I. I need to know... wtf happens with him and Hero. I can see so vividly Hero trying to keep the last semblance of his old brother back but it just fails every time, literally the only reason Hero is trying to continue on is because he doesn't want to leave Kel behind, that he made a promise and he was going to stick to it. So I must ask... does Kel kill himself as well? Or even accidentally? My heart h u r t s pardner..... sad yeehaw

Welllll we know the answer to the last part of that ask, but I do want to continue this series, so I’m gonna use the one ask that I have about it. Before anything I will say like I always do with Shattered AU that this is a dark AU. There is no happy endings, and pay attention to the TWs.

TW: Suicide, TW: Depression, TW: Major Character Death, TW: Rage, TW: Grief

Dear Hero,

No one else wrote a letter, but I couldn’t do that to you. I know that you spent so much time wondering if you could have done anything different for everyone else. I want you to know you couldn’t have done anything different for me

Hero had begged his parents to be allowed to stay. He had begged and pleaded to take the semester off. It was just one semester, he was still going to graduate early at this rate, why couldn’t he just stay? Hero knew Kel needed him. Kel might not be opening up, but being with Hero seemed to be comforting for his little brother at the very least. Hero knew that if he had more time, he could crack through Kel’s shell and try to start healing what was inside.

I remember when Mari died. You were so tired and upset. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. I know that when you get tired like this it’s hard to do anything. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to think, it’s just all so hard. I probably didn’t make it any easier by pretending everything was fine. I understand why you snapped at me.

Hero’s parents had practically thrown him onto the train. They reassured him over and over that they could take care of Kel. They would keep an eye on him, they would make sure he took his meds, and ate, and got to school on time. They said this all while rolling their eyes and giving him good natured sighs. They both acted like this was something they were used to, but Hero knew this was different. When this had happened to him, they had left him to find his own way back. He wouldn’t let that happen to Kel, mostly because Hero wasn’t sure Kel would find his way back.

Right before you left for school you told me you always felt guilty for not coming back that night. I want you to know that even if you had, I would still be doing this.

They had forced Hero back to school, but it didn’t matter. Hero couldn’t think about school at all. All he could think about was how to help Kel. He ignored his classes in favor of reading about recovering after loss, he didn’t bother to study anything except what might help him get through to his brother. There wasn’t anything more important than Kel right now, and if he was being completely honest, there was a part of Hero that was spitefully going to fail the semester just to prove to his parents how wrong they were. Above all, Hero called Kel every single night. Their phone calls last year had been frequent, but short. Usually just a quick fifteen minute chat updating each other on their days. Now their phone calls lasted hours and hours, and mostly consisted of Hero rambling on while Kel hummed and made one word answers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was important.

You were why I didn’t do this yet, even though it’s been on my mind for years. First Mari, then Basil, then Sunny. How could I ever do that to you, when I knew what it felt like to be in your shoes? You were trying so hard to help me, you’re still trying so hard. You call and you call and you always want to listen. I’m sorry I don’t want to talk.

For the first time, Kel didn’t pick up the phone. His parents said Kel was sleeping, and they could talk tomorrow. Hero’s stomach dropped, and his mind went fuzzy. He needed to be there, he needed to see Kel. If he couldn’t hear Kel’s voice, then he needed to see his little brother to know he was still alive. He must’ve said the last part out loud, because his mother was adamant that he stay at school. She was so sure that both of her sons needed to get back to their normal routines, that the way to get things to normal was to force them to be that way. Hero knew better. He knew Kel needed him. He hung up on his parents, pacing back and forth with shaking hands. He didn’t know what to do. It was too late for a train, and he didn’t have a car. Hero just didn’t know what to do.

I know you’re trying, and I hope you know I was trying too. I really was, I promise. It’s just...it’s too much. It’s all too much I’m just done. I’m done trying, and I’m done waiting for things to get better when I know they won’t. I don’t see the point anymore. I’m going to die regardless, so why should I go through fifty more years of feeling like this, only to get to the same end?

Hero grabbed his shoes, running out of the dorm room and across campus to his friend’s midnight study group. They had started doing this for their organic chemistry class in their first year and then kept it up because midnight was the only time that the library truly was quiet enough to get work done. He hadn’t joined them in weeks, and he wasn’t sure they would even consider him a friend anymore, but Hero needed their help. One look at his wild desperate eyes and his pleas, and Tristan was grabbing his keys and handing them to Hero. It was an eight hour car ride, nine and a half because he hit traffic. It was nine in the morning when Hero got home and found the letter on his bed. When they found Kel, the police told him and his parents that Kel had most likely died early that morning, around 7:30 or 8:00. Hero was sure if he had just been an hour faster in making his decision to come home, then Kel might still be here.

I know it’s going to hurt you, I know that I’m being selfish, but like I said. It’s just too much now. I don’t know if I believe in God or anything. I don’t know what kind of God makes everything that happened to us happen, but if there is a God out there, I hope he lets us all be together when this is all over. We can go for a picnic by the pond like we used to. That’s where I’m going now. That seems like a good place.

He waited until the police left to speak to his parents. He didn’t even mean to start fighting with them, but there was no way he couldn’t. He had started off just talking, trying to ask them why they hadn’t listened to him when he had known. They refused to hold themselves accountable. That’s why he had ended up in a screaming match with his mother. That had to be why rage was boiling in his veins and clouding his thoughts. Hero had begged them to let him stay. Hero had told them Kel needed him. They hadn’t listened, and now his brother was dead. His brother, the love of his life, his friends, all of them gone. Kel was all he had left, and they had taken him away.

I did love you. I did. I promise I did. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.

Hero took the letter and the keys to Tristan’s car. He didn’t need to stay, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t care that his mother was wailing about losing her boy, he didn’t care that his father was trying to get him to come sit and be with them. He just didn’t care. The only person he had left to care about was gone, because Hero hadn’t been there. He wasn’t going to go to another funeral, he wasn’t going to see them lower his little brother into the ground. He wasn’t going to continue the endless loop of torture that his life seemed to have on repeat.

I’m sorry, Hero. I hope you can forgive me. Maybe this is for the best. Now you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Hero walked down his driveway to his borrowed car, ignoring his parent’s calling behind him. There, right where the pavement met the road, was Aubrey. Her hair was messy all around her, her eyes bloodshot. The police had told him she was there when they arrived. They had questioned her, but after reading Kel’s note, they were sure she hadn’t been involved. Hero could have told them that himself, but it seemed no one believed that he knew anything. Maybe they were right. She asked him if he was leaving. She asked if he was coming back. His silence was response enough. She walked away before he could say anything, and that was good. Hero didn’t have anything to say anymore.

Maybe I’ll see you again.

There was really only one road out of Faraway these days. The construction around town left all the exits blocked off. Hero had memoized the route to and from his college almost a year ago, just to be safe. He had to take the third right to get on the highway. Hero drove past the third right. If he missed the third right, he could take the next left and turn around. He ignored the left. Hero drove straight until he couldn’t drive straight anymore, and then on a whim he took the right turn. He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

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weirwoodking · 3 years

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i know we are on a got hate hiatus so this is a mockery meant as a joke it's not even rage filled. maybe you don't remember this because of how random and utterly hilarious that benjen saved jon snow from.... something... (? i wanna say wights) in s7. like he came back from the dead in s7, had a different hair colour (for some reason his hair was a horrendous red/orange??). so he throws jon on his horse, saves the day, maybe he dies but i'm not sure, and it is never explained what happened to him during the six seasons he was gone and his different hair colour. it's the funniest mystery i've ever witnessed. benjen stark deserved better <3

Firstly, we are never truly on a GOT hate hiatus, even if we’re not openly talking about it as much. Also, Benjen deserves better, present tense. And he’s gonna get that better story, in the books.

IIRC what they did with Benjen was turn him into the Coldhands figure in their version (even though GRRM has explicitly stated that Coldhands isn’t Benjen). Their explanation was like... he got attacked by wights and he was brought back by the singers as half-wight/half-human, and he can’t go south of the Wall so he’s just been hanging out up north since book 1 (apparently never caring to get in contact with anyone in the Watch, not even during the Great Ranging). And then in season 7 during that episode that made even casual show-watchers start to realize how ridiculous the writing was, he turns up at the last second to save Jon after he almost drowned and then he swings a little fireball around at the zombies (sacrificing himself) and sends Jon off on his horse. I don’t remember the hair color change, but it wouldn’t surprise me. They really did like giving the Starks the wrong hair colors.

Now, you’ve prompted me to go on a little rant, because what really pisses me off about that deus ex machina-Benjen moment is that Jon was somehow miraculously okay. So... he goes out on an expedition beyond the Wall (with no hat/scarf/clothing for his head or neck) and they immediately lose all their food and water. Then he’s stuck on an island in the middle of a frozen lake surround by the literal fucking gods of winter who “bring the cold”, so it’s probably sub-zero (Fahrenheit, I’m American) temperatures. Then he fights a battle after having not been eating or drinking water for like at least 12 hours. Then he falls into a frozen lake in multiple layers of heavy fur, somehow he gets out on his own (with his sword in his hand), and then is immediately put on a horse while still in sopping wet clothes and rides off into the cold wind. And then hours later he arrives unconscious on the horse (how exactly was he holding on?).

By the time he gets back to the Wall... excuse me but his organs are failing if they haven’t failed already, and, IIRC (I’m not looking up the scene to rewatch it), he wasn’t shivering when they got him off the horse, which means that his body is no longer trying to regulate his temperature and you’re not going to be able to fix this shit with just some blankets and the magic of wishful thinking. So, unless you’ve got some medieval form of heated IV saline and warm humidified oxygen, HE’S DEAD. VERY, VERY DEAD. Oh, and apparently he suffered no frostbite, not even on his nose or ears. Big shift from the books, where Jeyne Poole gets frostbite on her nose from the escape in the snow. (Also, if you want to try and make the excuse of “well maybe the power of R’hllor made him cold-resistant” or whatever… no. It’s not stated or implied that that’s what happened. Post-res Jon in the books may react differently to temperature, but in the show he was presented as just being a revived human with an unaffected body.)

The show is just all-around absolutely ridiculous in the portrayal of injuries, especially since they constantly talked up how much they prided themselves on the “gritty realism”. You’ve Jon getting shot like three times in the back and somehow not getting a punctured lung (and recovering fast enough to lead another ranging beyond the wall before the wildlings arrive from either side). You’ve got Arya getting deeply stabbed multiple times in the stomach and then jumping in a dirty canal (if the blood loss or organ damage doesn’t kill her, the infection definitely will). You’ve got very little or no armor (see: every Jon battle scene) and no appropriate cold-weather clothing. You’ve got Jorah having all the dermis (and hypodermis too, I think) flayed off his entire upper body. You’ve got Jaime somehow surviving getting tackled off a horse into a lake/pond in full battle armor and somehow coming out the other side completely unscathed and un-sunk to the bottom. I never saw 8x5 but weren’t a ton of main characters in KL as it was being burned? And no one felt any effect from the dust and smoke inhalation? The most fantasy-like part of the TV show was everyone’s miraculous plot armor against any sort of bodily harm. Unless, of course, you get stabbed once in the stomach with a dagger when you’re a woman getting put down like a dog, then you bleed out and die in 20 seconds.

The most infuriating thing is that the books are comparatively on a very strong level of realism with injuries. Just using Jon as an example (because he seems to be George’s personal punching bag), he suffers second degree burns from his right forearm to his fingertips, and he has to constantly flex and move his hand to keep the muscles from stiffening up. When he gets shot in the leg an entire chapter revolves around it being treated, and the injury has lasting effects on him, he has to walk with a crutch for weeks. When he gets assassinated, he thinks of himself as only having been “grazed” by Wick’s knife, but blood immediately wells between his fingers when he puts his hand to his neck, and the next moment when he tries to reach for Longclaw he’s suddenly too weak to grasp it. So we can infer that the slash wasn’t just a graze, the knife probably hit his carotid artery.

GRRM puts so much care into making the physical traumas and their consequences realistic, just like he does with the mental trauma of his characters. I know we joke about stuff like “the more she drank the more she shat” but I personally love that GRRM was like “nope, if you drink unclean water it’s not gonna end well for your digestive system”. The show just full on winged it and made different standards for reality wherever and whenever they felt like it, failing to portray physical trauma just as badly as it failed to portray mental trauma.

#i have a really specific pet peeve about medical/injury unrealism in media #like no matter what genre your story is in (fantasy. dystopia. etc) the human body needs to react to everything in the way a human body does #and if what you’re going for is ‘gritty realism’ then it better be fucking realistic #unless there’s a direct clear explanation. like dany hatching the dragons and being fireproof only for that special magical process #and then she ends up getting burned the first time she rides drogon! no fireproof plot armor #ask #anon #anti got #long post #edit: adding these tags #tw gore #tw gore mention #tw injury #tw injury mention #tw medical trauma

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floatinginwords · 3 years

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Saved by the Devil (7/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You have a talk with some friends and get a little job offered

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic...yet)

A/n: this took me so long to write. I hope you like it. Have a wonderful day:)

You walked through the streets on London feeling lost and uneasy. The state record of your father was there, written officially: he was declared dead. You felt like you were going crazy for not even trusting the piece of evidence. You asked the secretary about a million questions about how they even go about certifying a death. The woman looked at you as if you were crazy and you probably looked it. None of the cuts were healed, parts of your face were beginning to bruise, and the stich on your hand was horrendous. At least you didn’t reek of alcohol. It bothered you that the certificate under cause of death read “suicide”. You distinctly remember Sabini tell you that your father had got himself killed.

‘Why stage it like a suicide and then tell the underworld you killed him? Couldn’t you have just paid the cops to look the other way?’ A million more questions swarmed your way non of which the secretary could answer.

And so you left the place walking slowly back home feeling odd. Dead is dead right you don’t need the details. You don’t want them. You tell yourself this as you get home, telling yourself that the uneasy feeling was from the physical night before not because someone was watching you.

‘I’m not safe staying here’ You think to yourself. You start fantasizing about all the different places you could disappear to, the new life you could create for yourself. You just needed enough money to so. That wad of cash underneath your bed was good for a boat ride and hotel stay, not for entire life change. You were gonna need to start saving and earning, more fast. The air was changing and not for the better.

Once you get home, you can see a lamp on in the window. You try to walk past the figure sitting in the living room, but their voice rings out stopping you from making another move.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.” Ada says.

“What about?” you ask sitting opposite of her in the living room.

“Its about Tommy,” she pauses a minute trying to gauge your reaction, you don’t give any. She sighs, “I just want you to be careful around him.”

You raise an eyebrow, confused from where this is coming from. “What do you mean?”

“I mean are you gonna keep coming home looking half dead with my brother having to carry you in here with no sort of explanation?”

“I’m sorry about that.” You apologize knowing she must have been scared out of her mind seeing you like that. You would have been too had it been her or Trinity.

“What are you even thinking working for him? Didn’t you want out of your father business, aren’t you on some guys shit list?” Ada takes a deep breath calming herself.

“I have it under control.” You can hear Ada groan in frustration. You understand why she was so defensive about this. Her family was dangerous and to be around them was like being around death itself. At least that’s how Ada put it.

“No you don’t just look at yourself!” She sternly says, pointing a finger at you.

You stifle a laugh from your throat at how motherly she looks, “Ada, please save the parenting for Karl.”

She rolls her eyes at your jest and gets up from the couch. “Are you gonna work for him again?”

“If I need the money...”

“I told you don’t have to pay rent while you stay here. You can take as long as you need to find steady job.”

You fake a smile and nod your head, “You’re right.” You didn’t want to bring up the unease you’ve been feeling. Or the need to flee the country based on a little paranoia that may just go away. It was unfair to her to place this burden upon her when she's finally made it out of feeling that way herself. But you’ll be damned if you weren’t gonna at least prepare yourself for the uncertain future.

*******************************************************************************************

Trinitys apartment was the same as it always has been. Neat to the point where it looked picture perfect. You always wondered when she had the time to keep tidy. You arrived early in the morning, knowing she would be up and that it would be the perfect time to cross into what you thought was still sabinis territory.

“You know your friend took over the Eden Club. I haven’t seen any of Sabini guys in awhile” Trinity says attempting to ease you as you keep looking out the window.

“who?”

“The Shelby’s. I think it was his brother or whatever. I wasn’t there when it happened but I heard it was brutal.”

“What did sabini do?” You ask.

“no one heard from him or Alistair.” She states

“Hmm.” You say finding it odd the gangster hadn’t retaliated yet

“You know you can maybe work there again? If you asked nicely? The Shelby’s seem to like you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh please I was the first person ada called to tell me about you running off with her brother. Did you know they were related?”

“No.”

She notices your lack of words. And though trinity wanted to be playful and tease her friend, she was worried.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

“Im thinking of leaving, trinity.” You say

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Im just thinking.” You sip your tea lightly, feeling the soothing warmth go down your throat, “Something feels wrong.”

“What is it?”

“I fear that something nefarious is upon me. And that it’s a matter of time before It decides to kill me.”

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“I need your help planning.” You say ignoring her questions. You didn’t want to subject her to your nightmares about your father which haven’t ceased at all. In face they were increasing in violence and color. Most of them drawing from memories. If it wasn’t your father that was alive coming to hunt you down, it was most likely a dedicated servant of his. You wondered who was was keeping the business going seeing as you didn’t take over and were the only child of your father. You had no other logical explanation of what the universe was trying to tell you with these dreams and gut feelings.

You open your purse revealing the wad of money from underneath your bed and papers of different id. “Your gonna hold this for me. When I need it ill come for it, if I add to it ill come here okay? Just make sure it stays hidden and untouched.”

She nods and takes it gently from your hands, “You’re being serious.”

“Deadly.”

You stood for a couple more hours, talking and eating until the afternoon came. You said your goodbyes and were on your way back on the streets of London. You felt good about yourself after seeing Trinity. It felt like years since you seen her.

You hear the honking of an annoying horn bring you out of your thoughts. You see Tommy Shelby behind the wheel, a cocky grin on his face. He parks the car and you wait for him outside not wanting to sit in close proximity of him. He comes around, outing a cigarette loosely around his pink lips. He doesn’t light it.

“I was looking for you at Adas.” He says standing in front of you with hands in his pockets.

“Hmm why?” You ask.

“How are your stiches?”

“Fine,” your face grows warm as you think about the drunken thoughts you had about him. You had them caged up this time but you were now very aware of the fact that you had them, “what is that you want?” you ask avoiding his eyes, afraid of getting lost in them. You could not afford to grow any sort of attachment to the man. The stories you’ve heard, the warning you’ve gotten from his own sister, you know that he was no good.

“Take a ride with me.” He simply says walking away from you.

Your legs move before you think. Following his words like a sailor would a siren. You suddenly felt very self conscious around the man as you sat near him.

“Where is this coming from?” You think to yourself feeling stupid you begin to argue with yourself in your head trying to find the soure of this new unwanted attraction. Maybe you were still drunk. No its been days. Or maybe you were tired. Sleep has been hard to comeby these days.

You look across at him and study his features. He was a very handsome man, no doubt about it. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until he catches you.

“What?” He asks

“Have you called May?” Your not sure why your mind went to that but it was.

He chuckles, “Are you really that interested in that?”

“No, im just making conversation.”

“Well I did. Ill be seeing her later this week. See how shes training my horse.” He sends a smile your way before his eyes go back to the road.

The smile sends your stomach doing flips. “You know your not as scary as people make you seem, Mr.Shelby.” Another statement slipping from your lips.

“Trust me, I can be scary. Hand me that file”

He parks the car in front of lovely looking house, a guard standing outside the gates of it. You hand him the file, next to you on the seats and he fiddles through it. You stare at the house with the guard in front of it through the rearview mirror.

“Why are we parked here?” You ask you eyes trained to the rearview mirror

“Had to make a stop.”

You see the guard notice the car and head towards you. He walks toward your window and leans in. “Sir,” The guard says totally ignoring your presence, “You cant park here.”

“Apologies, me and the Mrs. were just lost.”

“Well get a move on.” Thomas starts the car and moves it one block a way before parking again. He checks his watch.

“23 seconds,” He say to himself writing it down, “Are you gonna ask any questions?”

“I think I would rather leave this one alone.”

“Smart girl.”

You end up driving 2 more hours around the city. He tells you about the Eden club takeover and how his brother Arthur is now running the game there. Sabini hasn’t been seen inawhile. Nor his most trustworthy comapnions

“Do you know Alfie solomons?” He asks

“I do.” Alfie Solomon’s to you was an unpredictable man, You never could predict what he was gonna say.

“I was gonna have Arthur have dinner with him alone. But Arthur doesn’tknow Solomon’s too well.”

“Mr. Shelby-“

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to.” His eyes burn into your skull. You take all the self control you have to not turn your head and stare into them.

You think about the proposition and grow very hesitant. A part of you wants to take it and another part doesn’t. Quick money could be very useful to you but at what cost if its for situations like this. A dinner with gangsters could become deadly very quickly with one wrong move.

“When is this dinner?”

“Friday.”

“Ill give you answer before than” You say seeing it was Tuesday. You open the door to the car and walk out of it. You were beginning to suffocate under his stare and you needed to breath.

The air was crisp and refreshing to your lungs as you speedy walk down the streets making lefts and rights. The annoying horn returns to your ears as soon as you feel calm. You turn back around to scream when you realize its not the same car. It’s a black car with weird, tinted window, almost like a police car. The windows roll down, revealing a man with grey, busy eyebrows and mustache. His eyes held an evil glint in them

(Y/fn) (y/ln)?” He asks do it looked like he already knew the answer in his head that he knew who he had.

“Sorry wrong gal.” You lie turning around to get out for whatever situation that was.

“Get her boys.” You hear the man sigh. You feel large hands grab around your body and large funny smelly napkin forced against your mouth.

‘Chloroform’ you think as you pass out into the darkness.

Read pt.8

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Fanfic

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incorrect-sdv-quotes · 3 years

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Okay so I know this is a SDV Incorrect quote blog but I really wanted to show off my SDV headcanon’s so you may ignore this post if you wish (I’ll go back to the normal posts after this, I have like 13 quotes queue’d up right now)

Headcanon’s under the cut:

1.Alex’s real first name is Alexander he just prefers to go by Alex

2.Alex is a trans male so he was born female but transitioned to male at age 13

3.The bachelors ages are (listed youngest to oldest):

Alex: 19

Sebastian: 19 (one month older then Alex)

Sam: 20

Harvey: 25-30

Elliott: 36

Shane: 38

4.Despite Sam being older then him Alex is taller (if you put them side by side Sam looks taller but that’s only cause of his hair if you flattened it you could see Alex was taller)

5.Sebastian is secretly a vampire (He does look like one anyway)

6. Haley and Alex kind of have a Hazel and Xander from Bunk’d relationship where they’re kinda friends but one of them *cough cough* Haley *cough* has a huge crush on the other to where it’s at yandere point- Haley is not QUITE as crazy about Alex that Hazel is about Xander and unlike Hazel Haley can hide the craziness she does have around people but when it’s just her and Alex she’s all crazy and clingy-

Like, she’ll call him pet names like “My jock prince” or “Alex-zandy-” or “My knight in shining armor” Etc. etc- or hug him and never let go until someone LITERALLY prys her off- Talk about nutty nutty nut-so-

7. My headcanon voices for the bachelors are: (Well some of them, if a name is in strike through that means I don’t have one for that one- yet)

Alex: Shining Armor from MLP

Sebastian

Sam: Rottmnt Leo/2020 Sonic the Hedgehog/Dewy from Ducktails (this one might change)

Harvey: Fozzie Bear (Harvey: WaKa WaKa (I’m sorry))

Elliott: Gunther from Shake It Up

Shane

8.Shane is basically the god of chickens he’s such a good caretaker of chickens that he could summon an army of chickens to peck the eyes out of everyone in town with one “Babock” CHICKEN ARMY!!

If you decided to read this post and you liked my headcanons then this is it for now more might be added later as I play the game and scroll through the SDV tags on Tumblr more

EDIT 1: More headcanons!:

9: Elliott is an amazing actor but a horrid horror-movie actor (It’s just his screams are unrealistic he will literally just say “Aaaah” otherwise it’s the same as the rest of his acting) (This scream-glitch is an easy fix if you yell “Ghost” more on that in 10)

10: Elliott is TERRIFIED of ghosts even those cute and/or clearly fake ghosts (Why else do you think Spirits Eve/Halloween has Skeletons every year and not ghosts? No one wants to scare anyone Too bad.) Actually Alex dared Elliott to watch the Disney Junior show Vampirina which went fine until Demi came on screen- Elliott literally wet himself and screamed for 3 whole hours- (Poor Alex who had to listen to that the whole time-)

11: Elliott treats his pocket crab as his ACTUAL son, not as his pet but as his actual biological son (it’s actually really cute)

12: The portraits in this video for a portraits mod is how the characters actually look to me (Excluding Elliott Sam and Sebastian they still live in my brain with their cannon looks): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmBW8BzSZpU&list=WL&index=1&t=5s

13: Krobus is Sebastian’s father (yeah you THINK it would not make sense along with Hc numb.5 but if you think about it if his father is a monster and his mother is human he’s gonna be born as a human-looking monster! Which is a Vampire!)

EDIT 2: Damnit. I was scrolling through this and I realized I missed a Hc and it slipped through the original post and the EDIT 1!

14: Alex has Dyslexia (this bugger Hc belonged in the original post but it slipped through both edits)

EDIT 3: MORE HEADCANNONS-

15: Both Abigail and Sebastian used to have hair to match their parents (Abby’s was brown (Like said in game) and Sebastian’s was Ginger) but due to their “Unusual” parents (Abigail: Wizard Sebastian: Krobus) their hair changed color when they got older and their mothers just pretended they died their hair so both the towns people and Abigail and Sebastian themselves would not freak out

16: Sebastian has snake bite piercing's but he only wears them when he’s alone (he got them in the first place cause 1: Sam dared him and 2: he decided it would be a fun way to rebel against dead to Sebastian Demetrius, he didn’t have to keep them but he ended up liking the look)

17: Sebastian owns a giant frog plush, it’s twice the size of him, is really soft and is incredibly fat (it’s to the point it’s just a circle that has stubby legs) he loves it more then anything Excluding Alex but he does not want anyone finding out he loves it let alone owns it so he stuffs it under his bed when people are in and/or near his room

18: Sebastian’s first word was literally “Froggy”

Ex:

Robin: Can you say “mama”?

Baby!Sebastian: ...Froggy!

Robin:

Robin: Out of all words your first word is “Froggy”? Really?

19: The shortest to tallest Bachelors are:

Shane

Sam (If you take his hair and go *Squishes flat*)

Alex

Sebastian

Sam (If you count the added height from his Mullet)

Harvey

Elliott (Tall stinky sea dude)

20: Sam got Sebastian to scream “Bubbles” for 5 hours straight

Details on that:

Sam: It’s impossible to say “Bubbles” threateningly

Sebastian:

Five munities later:

Robin: Uhhhh Sam? Why is my son on the roof screaming “BUBBLES”?

21: Sebastian owns a biker jacket but he only wears it when riding his motorcycle cause the jacket makes him look way more goth then emo and he prefers the emo look over goth look despite he acts more like a goth

22: One Feast of The Winter Star Sebastian got everyone an empty box and when they opened it Seb said: “It’s a void of nothingness. Just like life.” He did not get in trouble or nothing cause your allowed to give what you want but he did not do that again

23: Sebastian requires glasses to read, he can see perfectly but when it comes to reading on a computer or on paper he needs glasses

24: Sam does a perfect Darth Vader voice and Darth Vader breathing noises

25: Sebastian has vampire powers (cause he is a vampire (Hc 5)), he knows about them and is chill about it but he does not use them unless necessary cause he just does not feel the need to use them otherwise (His powers include, immortality (he also can’t be killed cause on my take on Vampires the stuff that “Traditionally” harms/kills them is just a mith and actually does nothing to them), super strength, increased speed, fast self-healing, telekinesis (I know this is not “Traditionally” a vampire power but Seb does have it) and the ability to change into a bat)

26: Both Sebastian and Elliott are actually pretty jacked (Not Alex level jacked but still) you just can’t see it unless they’re shirt-less (but in Seb’s case at least loose the hoodie)

27: Harvey’s doctor’s mallet weapon is just as heavy and as big as himself so he rarely goes into combat cause he has trouble welding his own weapon-

Harvey: Time to explore the mines! *grabs his giant doctors mallet*

Harvey: Nope going down. *falls backward with a thud*

28: Elliott carries at least one very sharp pencil with him at all times so if he sees a very annoying person or a slime that escaped the mines he’ll grab it and go *StAb*

29: Everyone else makes Hermit jokes around Elliott which he finds funny and annoying at the same time (They used to do the jokes about Sebastian as well but they stopped cause when they did Seb strangled them Darth Vader style) Ex of the hermit jokes:

*singing* Someone’s on the beach with a hermit! There’s a hermit on the beach I know I know! Someone’s on the beach with a hermiiiit! And the hermit’s name is Elliott!

30: If you think Elliott’s cannon SDV schedule is anti-social you should see how anti-social he gets when writing a book-

EDIT 4: Surprise, there’s more

31: Elliott is a mermaid merman (he’s a human by day half human half fish by night but he’ll change forms sooner if you dump water on him- found that out by Haley throwing water on him in hopes he’ll melt-)

32: When in ‘fish’ form Elliott’s tail is incredibly strong (if you get hit by it you’ll go flying 900 feet in the air in 5 seconds at full strength)

33:Elliott only lets Harvey call him “Elly” if anyone else does so expect Elliott to dump water on himself then hit you with his fish tail)

34:Vincent will sing The Little Mermaid song “Under the sea” around Elliott and Sebastian (Sebastian cause think about it and Elliott cause he’s an IRL Mermaid)

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #headcanons #not a quote #I have to edit this like 100 times cause I'm dealing with a strikethrough glitch

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drariellevalentine · 3 years

Note

Can you do one shot for Ethan and Arrielle having a day off, maybe goin somewhere and or doing something mundane.

Ookay... here’s to my attempt at a one-shot!

Autumn Delight

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Rating:- Teen (reference to mature situations) other than that TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF

This is a submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Wonderful.

@wackydrabbles for the prompt “I won’t forget this.”

@choicesweeklychallenge for the prompt “You sure about that?”

Yes, don’t judge, I hit three birds with one stone.

Preview:- “The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.

General PoV:-

Spiraling streams of sunlight wash over Arielle as she turns around in bed. Or to be precise, his bed. “Good morning handsome…”, she says with a yawn.

“Good afternoon, beautiful...”, Ethan corrects with a smile.

Arielle shoots up out of bed, clad in a lavender lace top, hair like a bird’s nest. “Afternoon?! I’m late for work! Zaid is going to kill me!” Arielle scrambles out of bed and runs around the room in an attempt to find her clothes. Ethan chuckles, “What are you even doing?”

“Ethan, as much as I love your sexy morning voice, now is not the time! You might be Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey who can waltz in at any time but I’m still a resident!” Ethan watches the very amusing spectacle of Arielle getting dressed.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?!”, Arielle half-shouts as she tries to tame her hair.

“Well, I mean you don’t have work today. And to be honest, it is quite amusing.”

Arielle’s eyes go wide as she groans, “I forgot today was my day-off.”

“I figured.”, Ethan says as he gestures to her form. “Now come here..” Ethan lunges for Arielle, attackling her with tickles.

“Ethan! Stop! I’m hungry!”

“I’ll make whatever you want later...”, he replies before kissing her deeply,

“No! I want pancakes and I know for a fact you can’t make them.”

Hearing this, Ethan suddenly sits up looking at her with a raising eyebrow. “How did you”- Arielle smirks, “A girl’s gotta have a few secrets.”

“My dad told you, didn’t he?”

Arielle grins proudly, “He let it slip when I met him for the first time. Now, get ready. I want pancakes.” She gets up and walks towards the door when suddenly an arm loops around her waist, pulling her back. “Eeeeek!”

“And where do you think you’re going?”, Ethan asks as he spins her around to face him.

“To take a shower.”

“Well, I’m going to take one too.”

“Okay, so what?”

“We don’t want to waste water, do we?” Arielle rolls her eyes. “Oh really, you’re rolling your eyes at me?” Without missing a beat, Ethan swipes Arielle off her feet, quite literally, and heads toward the shower.

“Ethan!”

One productive shower later…

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Now I’m even more hungry!”

“Now you’re complaining? I didn’t hear you complaining when I”-

“Okay! I get it! Now, can we go? I’m all dressed!”

Ethan turns to look at you, his eyes slowly widen.

You smirk, Well?...”

“You look perfect.”

“But where are we going?”

“For a world-renowned diagnostician, you really can be sooo clueless sometimes. We’re going to iHop.” Ethan stares at you. “Did you not hear me? We’re going to ihop! And maybe Starbucks after.”, you say with a big smile.

“Alright, Starbucks I understand but ihop?”

You gasp. “You don’t know I hop?! The only place for amazing pancakes, waffles and more?! How long has it been since you’ve eaten pancakes?!”

Ethan shrugs. “Maybe 7, 8 years.”

“You’re joking!....right?” He gives you another look.”Okay, that’s it! We’re getting you pancakes! No one should have to live without pancakes!”

“Okay, we’ll go and get pancakes.”

“Not like that! No one sees you like this except for me.”, you say defiantly. He laughs as you rifle through his closet in search of clothes. You pull out a pair of jeans, a jacket and a v-neck shirt for him. ”Wear this and meet me downstairs!”, you shout as you head out, leaving him no choice but to obey.

Ethan’s PoV:-

“Can I drive?” You turn to your right and see Arielle giving you her puppy dog eyes as she fastens her seatbelt.

“No.”, you reply without looking at her. You know you’ll succumb to those eyes if you look at them.

“Why not?” You can see her pouting from the corner of your eye.

“Cause I say so. Now, where’s IHOP?

“Fineee...only cause I’m hungry. And give me a sec, let me pull up the directions.”

20 minutes later, you’ve arrive at a family restaurant which is surprisingly almost full.

“It’s almost 12:30 and these people want pancakes?”, you ask.

“Yes, and that includes us.” Arielle drags you out of the car and into the restaurant.

“Table for two?”, a lady asks.

“Yes please!” Soon, you’re both seated in a small but cozy corner booth.

“A waiter will be right here with your menus. And if you don’t mind me saying, you both make a lovely couple.”, the elderly lady says as she walks away. You cant help but smile at the comment as Arielle blushes.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just us two, away from all the chaos at work…”

“Hmm. It is.” Just then, a waiter arrives and gives you both a menu each. You open yours and start to look at the different varieties when suddenly Arielle slides in the seat next to you. You don’t say anything but instead put your arm around her and hold up the menu. She snuggles into your chest as she looks through the menu.

“Have you decided what you want?”, you ask.

“Mhm! What about you?”, she replies looking up. You can’t but help smile at her.

“I did.”

“Would you like to order now?”, a waiter asks.

“Yes, I’ll have the Southwest Scramble and the lady will have the short stack of French Cremé Brûlée Pancakes.”, you reply.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

Remembering what she said about going to Starbucks later on, you reply with, “Just water.”

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes, sir.” Arielle once again lays her head on your chest, you won’t admit it but you like it when she does that.

“You know me so well.”, she says out of nowhere.

“I thought you would ask something like, ‘How did you know?!”, he says horribly mimicking your voice.

“My voice doesn’t sound like that! And I know you better then you know yourself.”, she replies with a smile.

“Can we take a picture?” Normally, you would said no but when it comes to Arielle, it’s just impossible to say no.

“...fine. But only one.”

“Yay!”, Arielle squeals like a child. One of the things you lov- like about her, despite being 26 years old, she still has a bit of childishness.

A waft of smells captures your attention. You turn to see the waiter bring two steaming plates of food, setting it on the table.

Arielle brings her plate towards her and takes a bite. Her mouth drops open.

“What happened?”, you ask.

“It’s hot!” You hand her a glass of water, biting down to stop your self from laughing. She quickly drinks half of it, and doesn’t notice you laughing.

“Ahh, that’s much better.” She takes another bite, this time waiting for it to cool down.

Arielle doesn’t say anything, completely focusing on her stack on pancakes. You chuckle to yourself as you take a bite of your eggs. It’s quite good. Both of you enjoy the peaceful silence between the two of you as you eat breakfast...or lunch. You know better not to disturb her when eating.

Arielle’s PoV:-

A good hour later, you and Ethan are strolling down Boston Common in search of a Starbucks.

“The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.” You roll your eyes playfully.

You smile. “Next time I’m teaching you how to make them!”

“I look forward to that. Now, what do you want from Starbucks?”, he asks as you both enter Starbucks.

“I’m ordering my usual fall pumpkin spice latte.”

“Okay, go sit in a table. I’ll go order and be right back.”

“Such a gentleman, aren’t we today?”, you playfully say as you press your lips against his cheek.

“Oh really, maybe you need a reminder of last night?” You can see the smirk on his face. You can feel your cheeks heat up, so you quickly turn around and look for a place to sit. A few minutes later, Ethan slides in the seat opposite you. You notice the bill has more than two drinks but before you can see it, he tucks it in his pocket.

“Hey!”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Order for Ethan!”

“Be right back.” Instead of waiting at the table, you decide to meet Ethan at the counter. Ethan turns around, two drinks and a mysterious box in hand. “I thought I told you to wait at the booth.”

“I thought we’d go outside and enjoy the weather. It’ll be winter before we know it.”, you add with a lopsided grin.

“Quoting me, are we Rookie?”

“Just observing, Dr. Ramsey.”, you wink as you take your drink from him.

You spend the whole afternoon with Ethan, strolling around Boston Common, taking pictures and posting them and doing all of that hand in hand, every single minute.

By the time Ethan drives you to your apartment, the sun is almost gone.

“I had a really nice time today.”

“It’s not often I say this, but I agree.” You burst out laughing, soon Ethan joins you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“I would like that.” He gets out of the car and rides up the elevator with you. It’s been almost a whole day that you spent with him, but somehow it feels like it was only a few minutes. “Goodnight Ethan.”

“I would say goodnight, but we both know sleep is the last thing you’ll be doing.”

“Smartass.” You kiss him deeply once again then rest your head on his chest. He loops an arm around your waist. You both stay there for a few minutes when a sudden voice interrupts you.

“You both just gonna stand there, or are you coming inside Arielle?” You turn around to see Jackie, hands on her hips. You smile sheepishly.

You can hear Sienna’s voice ring throughout the apartment, “Jackie! I told you to leave them alone!” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Ah, Dr. Varma. This is for you and the other doctors. Arielle mentioned that you all liked the cake pops from Starbucks.” Ethan hands her the mysterious box.

“Oh um, thank you.” Jackie steps back inside sheepishly. You can still hear Sienna shouting, “Won’t you all leave those two alone?! The two have had to wait for God-knows-how-long!”

Ethan laughs, “She really is quite a friend.”

“You gave Jackie that box just to shut her up, didn’t you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, initially I bought the cake pops for you but I can buy you them anytime now.”

“You sure about that?”-

Ethan silences you with a kiss. “Mhm.” You both just stay there relishing the intimacy between you.

“I should go.” He nods. You walk up to the door but turn around just to say, “I won’t forget this.”

“Me either. Goodnight Arielle.” You smile as you head into your apartment, knowing that you’ll have many more days like today.

———————————————————

Author’s Note:- Hello loves! Hope you’re having a good day/night! If you’ve come this far, you’re amazing and thank you soo so so much for reading this mess of a fic. Sorry for any mistakes!

There will be a follow up post with some Instagram edits of what Ethan and Arielle did on their stroll so keep a look out!

Ask box taglist:- @aylaramseycarrera

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Love,

@drariellevalentine

#open heart #playchoices #ethanjonahramsey #ohsy #ethan x mc #open heart fanfic #from the bottom of my heart #thank you for never getting tired of them #diyaa writes

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punkrockmads · 4 years

Text

"Wait... Your Birthday is WHEN?!"

Abby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: @bitchinzzz

(Takes place in Avalon after the 2nd game, Abby and Lev do not run into the Rattlers)

You never understood why people fussed so much over birthdays. To you, it was just another day. Another day of surviving the infected. You enjoyed seeing how happy other people were celebrating their birthdays. You especially loved the smile on Abby's face when you gave her an album for her to store her coin collection in earlier that year. And you enjoyed the way Lev hopped around the house with so much joy when you found him a huge stuffed shark a month after that for his birthday. But, you never felt the need to celebrate yours. You just enjoy making others happy. You never mentioned your birthday to Abby before and that wasn't about to change. So when you woke up on the morning of your birthday, you didn't bother saying anything to Abby or Lev.

You crawl out of bed, kissing Abby's forehead and pulling the covers over her shoulders. She mumbles incoherently, brows furrowed, before settling down again. You chuckle to yourself quietly, leaving the bedroom you shared with your girlfriend to get ready for the day. The Fireflies have a pretty comfortable setup on Catalina Island; almost as nice as it was in Jackson.

Your family had left Jackson without you to follow something you thought was simply a rumor. They went looking for the Fireflies. You went after them but soon found out they never made it. You found your mother, father and older sister hanging from trees in the forest... gutted. You lost it and hid in the basement of an abandoned house. You had been there two days when Abby and Lev had found you. You've been with them ever since. You always smile when you think back to how flustered Abby was the first few weeks.

The new Firefly base has power, running water and even a giant gate that keeps the infected out. The three of you were even given your own house in the town. Speaking of power, you need to get breakfast ready. Lev will be up soon. He's been begging your friend, Marcus, to let him patrol the fence line with him and, after weeks of begging, you and Abby finally said he could as long as he stayed beside Marcus.

You walk across the landing to Lev's bedroom door. He always sleeps with it cracked. You don't bother him about it, knowing he feels safer that way. You peek through the crack, making sure Lev is okay. The same thing you do every day. As always, he's sleeping peacefully, clinging to his giant shark plush, a smaller one laying at his feet.

You back away from his door, going downstairs to start breakfast. The living room window is open, letting in a gentle breeze that creates goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs. You only wore one of Abby's shirts and a pair of underwear to bed that night; the Summer weather being too hot to wear anything else, especially with Abby's warm body pressed against yours. You search through the kitchen, deciding scrambled eggs would be the easiest thing to make. You even have some bread you baked a few days ago left.

Although your cooking is excellent, you definitely enjoy baking more. Ingredients for pastries are very hard to come by but, whenever you manage to find them, you absolutely love baking pastries for your family and the children that live in the base. Abby says it's such a "mom" thing and teases you about it but you know she loves it when you make her favorite cookies. Every time she smells the faint scent of lemon coming from the oven, she can't help but smile. You remember her even crying a little when she found out you'd baked a cake for her birthday. She knew it probably took you quite a while to gather those ingredients. So, she finds it slightly odd that she still doesn't know when your birthday is. How is she supposed to plan something special for you?

As you're cooking eggs on the stove, Abby walks into the kitchen wearing a simple white tank top and dark green pyjama shorts. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, falling over her left shoulder. You turn to her, giving her a loving smile as she walks toward you. She stands behind you, pulling you into her arms so you have to reach forward a bit to keep the pan on the stove.

"Morning, love." You say, feeling your back pressed against her warm stomach. Abby leans to press a small, gentle kiss on your right cheek.

"Good morning, angel." She mumbles against your cheek with a sleepy voice, fingers moving under your shirt and dancing along your waist. You laugh lightly at the ticklish sensation. "Did you sleep okay?"

You nod with a small hum, reaching to turn off the stove. "Did you? Sounded like you were mumbling again. Strange dream?" You turn your head to look up at her as she sways the two of you side to side slowly, a habit she's picked up over the many months you've been together.

"Good dream, actually." Abby says, a small smile on her face.

"Oh yeah? What about?" You ask as she lets you go to grab a few plates from one of the wooden cupboards. She sets them down in front of you, clicking her tongue.

"You, Lev and I celebrating Christmas." Abby begins, grabbing forks out of a drawer as you plate the eggs and bread. "Lev seeing a Christmas tree for the first time." Your smile grows wider at the thought of Lev's face lighting up at the sight of a Christmas tree. "I noticed something else, though." She pauses, carrying two plates into the dining room and setting them on the table.

"And what was that?" You ask as you join her, bringing the remaining plate and silverware.

"You had a wedding ring on your finger." The way she speaks slightly quicker doesn't go unnoticed by you. She's trying to be cocky, but she's also shy.

"What are you suggesting?" You fold your arms over your chest, looking at her with a playful grin.

"What, you don't wanna get married in the future?" Abby teases back, raising her eyebrow. You chuckle, letting your arms drop to your sides.

"As long as I'm marrying you." You state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Damn right, you'll be marrying me." She says, matter of factly. You roll your eyes, looking to the clock on the wall. It's almost 7:30.

"Lev should be up by now. I want him to have time to eat before going with Marcus."

"I can go wake him up." Abby offers.

"That's okay." You peck her lips, turning to go upstairs. "I left something upstairs, anyways." Her eyes are so warm; so inviting. You wish you could gaze into them forever and escape this world of kill or be killed. You think of how different your life would be if the infected never existed as you walk up the stairs. You knock on Lev's doorframe and, hearing no response, you push the door open. Lev is still sleeping exactly how he was earlier.

"Good morning, Lev." You call softly from the doorway. He just lets out a groan and buries his face in his shark. You chuckle, walking over and ruffling his already messy hair.

"Go away." He whines, his voice muffled by the stuffed animal. "Let me sleep forever." You have an idea you're sure will work. You walk to the door again, putting on a fake frown.

"Okay, if that's what you want." You sigh. You see Lev peek up at you, looking at your feigned sad expression. "I guess I'll just have to tell Marcus you changed your mind about patrolling with him. He's gonna be so disappointed but... I'm sure he'll understand." Lev sits up quickly, looking at his clock. His eyes go wide.

"I'm gonna be late!" He yells, scrambling out of bed and running past you. You laugh, hearing him run into Abby and her telling him to slow down before he gets hurt. You walk back into your bedroom, searching through yours and Abby's stuff.

"Dammit, where did I put it?" You mutter to yourself, searching for the small box of children's books you found in a basement you had cleared on your last patrol outside the gates. You're supposed to help out at the daycare today and you're more than excited to show them the new books you found for the younger children. You let out a huff when you find it tucked away in the corner of the closet.

You carry the box downstairs, listening to Lev tell Abby all about his dream about riding a giant dragon and flying to Paris. You set the box down by the front door so you won't forget it before joining your family for breakfast. After eating and doing the dishes, you and Abby go upstairs to get ready for the day.

"What do they have you doing today?" You ask her, pulling a burgundy colored top over your head.

"They want me to help a scouting team clear out a building about a half hour away." She sighs, adjusting her belt. "Nothing big." You hum, glad she isn't doing something too dangerous. Compared to what she used to do at the WLF base, these missions were a lot safer. You asked her if these missions were boring one night while the two of you were cuddled up in bed.

She shook her head, saying that, if anything, they were a lot less stressful. You mostly went on missions with her but, when you found out the daycare workers needed a bit more help, you decided to spend a bit of your time there. Only after Abby assured you she'd be fine with you not tagging along every once in a while. It did help knowing she wasn't going out there alone. They always sent a team of five, sometimes more if necessary.

"You taking those books to the kids today?" Abby asks, watching you lace up your boots. You nod, grabbing her arm to pull yourself up. "I'm sure they'll love them." She smiles. "And Macey will be really excited to see you again." You chuckle a bit at her comment about the little four year old that has grown to adore you. She lost her mother at a very young age so you became a surrogate of sorts.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" You smile, cupping Abby's face in your hands. She leans down, touching her forehead to yours and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"She's probably losing her mind." Abby laughs, her toned stomach pressed against you. "Her dad might not be around much longer. I'm worried about her." She says, tone going serious. Her father is sick; in and out of the infirmary constantly.

"Anything happens, we'll take her in." You say, repeating the agreement you and Abby had made with Macey's father. The two of you agreed to raise the girl as your own if anything were to happen to him. He knows how much Macey loves you and your family. Abby nods, kissing your lips. You stay there for a moment, letting her soft lips rest on yours until you have to pull away for air. A knock on the front door makes you both walk downstairs. You open the door, letting Marcus in.

"Hello there, ladies." He says in his thick southern accent, stepping in and brushing locks of black hair out of his eyes. Abby calls for Lev and you hear him rush around in his room, trying to get ready quickly.

"You need a haircut." You chuckle, tugging at his hair lightly.

"Ow! Hey!" He laughs, pulling your hand out of his tangled mop he calls hair. You let go, shoving him. He shoves you back and you land against Abby's chest with an 'oof'. You look up at her and she chuckles. The three of you are good friends; always teasing each other. "You guys almost ready?" Marcus asks and you nod as he sits down on the couch. Abby picks up her backpack, putting it on her back. You checked earlier to make sure she has everything she needs for her mission. And then, just in case, you double checked.

"Lev, we've gotta go soon!" Abby calls up the stairs. Lev comes down the stairs moments later, shoes still untied as he reaches for his backpack. "Slow down and tie your shoes, goober." Abby grins at his eagerness. Lev sighs, doing what he's told.

"Please make sure you stay by Marcus, okay?" You say to Lev, slightly worried. Yeah, they'll be right outside the gate, but what if something went wrong?

"I will. Promise." Lev smiles, standing up. "Can we go now?" Marcus looks to you and Abby to make sure everyone was ready to head out.

"Yeah, c'mon." Abby says, leading everyone out the front door. You grab the box of books before closing the door behind you, walking beside Abby and Lev. As you're walking to the daycare, Abby takes the box from you, making you look up at her with a questioning gaze. She just gives you a mischievous smile. "Hey, Marcus. Hold this. She quickly hands the box to the man and grabs you, slinging you over her shoulder and making you yelp in surprise.

"What the hell? Abby! Put me down!" You protest, punching at her back. She only laughs along with Marcus and Lev. You notice a few amused looks from some of the other people who are out and about doing their daily tasks. You feel your face heat up. "Abby, stop! You're embarrassing me!" You groan. You feel her pinch the back of your thigh playfully and you smack her shoulder blade. "Abigail!" Your protests turn into annoyed whines but she doesn't set you down until you reach the daycare. Marcus hands you the box before ushering Lev along, leaving you and Abby to go patrol. "Hope you enjoyed the show, jerks!" You yell after them. Abby just grabs your chin, moving your gaze to meet hers.

"You're cute." She says, pecking the tip of your nose.

"Be safe, okay?" You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck. You wish she didn't have to go. You'd prefer it if she stayed with you and helped with the children. But, that isn't an option today. She has responsibilities.

"Always." Abby promises. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You smile. She kisses your lips once more before turning and walking away. You watch until she is out of sight and head inside the daycare. Immediately, the young kids look to you and smile.

"Y/N!" They all yell, getting up to swarm you. Several pairs of arms wrap around your waist, making you chuckle. You notice a little banner hanging up by the chalkboard in the front of the room. 'Happy Birthday'.

"Alright, kids. Settle down." Violet laughs. Violet has been running the daycare for quite a while along with a much older woman who moved on to help teach the older kids. When you found out Violet had been stuck with twelve kids, all six and under, you just had to step in and help whenever you could.

"Who's birthday is it?" You ask once all of the kids have returned to their desks.

"It's mine!" A little boy with curly red hair says from the corner. You smile.

"Happy birthday, Adam!" You set the box down on a shelf beside the door. "How old are you?" He grins, revealing a missing tooth. He holds up four fingers. "That's super cool! My birthday's today, too. But I'm much older than you." You say, laughing at his shocked gasp.

"Today's YOUR birthday, too?!" You turn around to see your favorite little girl bounding toward you, her long blonde hair bouncing with every step. She clings to your leg.

"Yep." You say, simply. Macey tugs on your arm, silently asking you to bend down. You do as she wishes, looking into her deep blue, playful eyes.

"What's in the box?" She whispers, squishing your cheeks with her little hands.

"You really wanna know?" You tease. She nods, her eyes wide and full of wonder. You pull her hands away and stand up, walking over to the box. You place it on the floor for all of the kids to see. They all go crazy, so happy to see brand new books for them to read. You let them look through the books, a smile on your face.

"Thank you for the books." Violet says, standing beside you. "They're really going to love them."

"It's really no problem." You smile. "I'm glad they'll be of use instead of collecting dust in that basement."

"So, are you, Abby and Lev gonna do something big for your birthday later?" She asks.

"No." You state, simply. "They don't even know it's my birthday." Violet looks at you like you just drank bleach.

"What?!" She exclaims, her voice barely heard over the babbling kids. "Why haven't you told them?"

"I never really celebrate it. I don't feel the need to." You shrug. She turns away.

"I guess some people don't celebrate their birthdays." Violet says. "Hell, my brother doesn't even remember when his is."

"Hard to keep track of." You say before Macey runs up to you and grabs your legs, repeating little cheers of 'thank you' over and over.

Later that day, you head home to find Lev and Abby already there. You join Abby in the kitchen, helping her prepare dinner as she talks about her mission. When she asks how your day with the kids went, you mention Adam's birthday and it makes her pause. She realizes she still has no clue when your birthday is.

"Hey, when is your birthday?" Abby asks, setting the table.

"Today." You say as if she's just asked what time it is. She almost drops a plate at your response.

"Wait... your birthday is WHEN?!" You laugh at her shocked expression.

"Today." You repeat.

"What- why didn't you tell me sooner?" Abby stumbles over her words, walking back into the kitchen.

"I don't know." You respond, turning to face her. "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does!" She takes your hands in hers, running her thumbs over your knuckles. "It's your birthday, baby! If anything, you should at least be celebrating the fact that you survived another year of the apocalypse like a badass." You roll your eyes at her little smirk. "Tell you what, we don't have to do anything exciting tonight. But, I still wanna do something special so... how about the three of us stay up late and watch a movie? Then, we sleep in tomorrow?" You contemplate the idea. Neither of you had work to do tomorrow and it would be nice to spend a night cuddled up on the couch with your family. Maybe you could make it a bit more interesting...

"Can we watch a scary movie?" You ask. "Nothing too inappropriate for Lev, though." She sighs. She's never been the biggest fan of scary movies. They're usually too predictable. The psychological horror films are her favorite because they mess with your mind.

"Alright." Abby agrees. "We can watch a scary movie."

"Okay." You smile, kissing her cheek and going into the dining room. You call for Lev to come eat dinner and he says he'll join as soon as he's finished his drawing. Abby walks in after you, pulling you close. Your eyes go wide when she pulls you into a kiss. Once you process what's happening, you let your eyes close and kiss back. She runs the tip of her tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You deny, pulling away and grinning at her annoyed groan. As much as you'd love to continue, Lev would be coming into the dining room any minute. Besides, it's way too much fun teasing her and watching her try so hard to continue only to be forced to wait patiently. She settles for kissing your temple, lingering for a brief moment.

"Happy birthday, beautiful." Abby whispers, nuzzling her face into your hair.

"Thanks, babe." You say, resting your forehead on her shoulder. She makes a mental note to never forget your birthday and even starts planning an extravagant celebration for next year that she would most likely have to force you to attend.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #lev tlou #fanfiction

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hopesbarnes · 3 years

Text

Black Swan (15)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

A/N: Just the epilogue left. Major shoutout to @starbxcks I really wouldn’t be posting this without you.

P.S. Does anyone want to see the solo costumes, and the videos I found of what I imagine the dances to look like?

With one week until competition season officially began, and arguably the most important competition of the season you were stressed. Every day was hectic with practices. Bucky tagged along every day as your unofficial assistant. He kept notes for you and learned everything he needed to know in order to assist backstage. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of that many girls at once, and while you could handle props yourself it was easier to have someone else do so.

He kept track of your masterlist of what was required for each dance (shoes, costumes, hairpieces, props, etc) and who was in what dance. He also wrote down every little thing you needed to remember, and you have no clue how you did competitions before him. You managed to wrangle Natasha, who had watched your previous competitions, and Clint to assist. She agreed to help with stretches and hair/makeup while Clint would mostly be moral support and do the heavy lifting.

On Friday morning the four of you, in separate cars full of props, suitcases, and random assortments of things needed for the weekend, drove the three hours to the competition. All the girls (and boys) competing would head over after school ended in time for a nightly meeting you were holding.

Bucky was practically bouncing the entire car ride, asking questions about how the weekend would run and the chances the girls would win. After the week of hanging around the studio, the girls started calling him ‘Mr. Bucky’, and even gave him a few “Team DAD” shirts to wear the weekend (one of them just so happened to be covered in glitter). He protested saying he wasn’t a dad, but they deemed him as such anyway. It just went to prove that children hold no judgments, even when a giant super-soldier with a metal arm is in a dance studio.

The rest of the day was a blur. You checked into the competition and dropped off props, had lunch with Bucky, Natasha, and Clint-which wasn’t as weird as you thought it would be. Clint and Bucky quickly fell into a joking rhythm-, met up with the team and handed them their goody bags and door decorations, wished them all a good night’s sleep, then ate in your room and went to bed early curled up against Bucky.

------

Bucky’s three alarms went off at 4:30 am and both of you got up and took a shower and got dressed in your shirts with the dance studio name on them, yours saying “COACH” and Bucky’s saying “TEAM DAD”. You applied some glitter eyeshadow and added a bow to your hair while Bucky put his in a half french braid. Within no time at all you had packed your bags for the day and headed to grab breakfast.

The entire day was packed, your first number started at 8 and the last was at 4 pm. Thankfully, everything was relatively spaced out and the little kids weren’t until 3 o’clock.

Natasha and Clint ended up joining you in the ballroom hallway at 7, both excited as well. They went off to help do hair and makeup while you gathered your two soloists for warm-up. You placed the hair strips in their hair and Bucky double checked that they would stay in place and they had everything they needed.

They both warmed up fine, and went on stage and absolutely crushed it. All the girls from the studio cheered loudly for both of them and they both scurried off to get ready for their other dances.

You met up with the two seniors for their duet at 11, and you walked them through stretches. Bucky and Clint were helping with props, so Natasha joined you backstage. The two dancers practiced their lifts and they went off without a hitch. You almost had tears watching them, and they weren’t even going full out with emotions or all the steps.

As you waited in the wings for them to go on, Bucky found you and gave you a quick kiss before holding your hand as they went on stage.

Their dance was beautiful. They took the steps you gave them and brought them to life. Every movement was purposeful and their faces depicted the emotions so well. You could see the story they were telling through their dance and let out a few tears.

When they finished and came off stage you hugged them both tight, thanking them for the job they did. It was amazing, and everything you ever hoped for.

---

There was a lunch intermission between the solo, duets, and trios before groups started in the afternoon. Clint brought food for you, Nat, and Bucky and the three of you found a table to eat at. The boys talked about how insane the dancers were and how they didn’t even think they could do what these kids did. Natasha talked about how she wanted to possibly join the studio on a part-time basis because she didn’t realize just how much she missed it until now.

After finishing up lunch you gathered the little kids and made sure they all had their correct tights and shoes. You put their hair accessories in and sat them down to remind them to point their feet and smile wide. They ran through their routine fine and were adorable on stage. Afterward, you made sure each girl found their parents or were with Natasha before gathering the large group with Bucky and practicing the dance, making sure the girls were still stretched and energized.

One girl scraped her knee pretty bad and you went to find a first aid kit, only for Bucky to open his backpack and pull out a kit with everything a dancer could ever possibly need. He disinfected the wound, bandaged it, and had the girl back on her feet ready to perform. You kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for being as amazing as he was.

The girls were set backstage, and you had enough time to run out to the audience for this dance. You managed to grab two seats in the front and Bucky and you watched the girls give it their all.

Against all odds, every single dance was perfect and there were no major hiccups with any routine. It was by far your best competition, and you know for sure it’s because of the team you had with you.

After a few more hours, the girls all gathered on stage and you sat in the audience with Bucky, Natasha, and Clint. They went through individual genre categories first, and all of your dances were given platinum (highest score) and managed to take first in their respective categories. All the dances qualified for nationals and that took a huge weight off your chest.

But what you really wanted was for the solos to place top 3 overall, your groups to take first in their size group, and possibly for your duet to take overall first place. You crossed your fingers and silently hoped throughout the awards.

They announced your solos, and your girls placed second and fourth. The girl who got fourth looked slightly disappointed but smiles nonetheless. Your duet placed first for duo/trios and you jumped up excited.

The two group dances scored first overall for small and large groups respectively. The announcer announced that the last award of the night would be the overall highest score for the entire competition.

“And with a perfect 300, Gravity!” the announcer said and you almost screamed. Bucky and Clint jumped from their seats, while Natasha dove to hug you. Nothing mattered but the joy you felt in that moment.

After every competition, the whole team books a restaurant. This one was no different, and after the end of the awards, all the families make it to a restaurant a couple of minutes away. The girls are all in various costume parts, or just sweatpants and their team jackets. The tables have bobby pins and lashes discarded, and giggles fill the air. In the middle of the room is the giant trophy (amongst the other smaller ones) and it’s the best feeling ever.

You grab a booth with Bucky, Natasha, and Clint next to some of the other teachers and parents and make your way around to congratulate all the girls and see how they’re doing. When you get back to the booth Natasha excuses herself to the bathroom, and the minute she’s out of sight Clint squeals.

“I’m gonna do it,” he says and Bucky gives him a strange look while eating a few french fries.

“Propose,” he says and shows the ring you had picked out with him.

“Oh, OH!” you say and light up. You’ve been waiting what feels like forever for this to happen.

“I’m gonna have her come outside with me in a little bit, and ask her,” he says grinning. He tucks the box back into his coat and you all pretend like nothing happened when Nat comes back out.

“Hey, babe will you come with me to grab something from the car?” he says before she can scoot back into the booth.

“Uh- yeah I guess,” she says, stealing one of Bucky’s fries and grabbing Clint’s hand following him outside.

You see the two of them head outside and look away. This was their moment, and you didn’t want to take that from them.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier, but I’m so proud of you, love.” Bucky says.

“I never could have done it without you.”

“Okay, bullshit,” he says laughing. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x y/n

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angelaiswriting · 3 years

Text

The Contest (7 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N finds herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf had)

✏️ A/N: I made it! Many thanks to Alice for some ideas, and to the swipe keyboard on my phone that didn’t kill my stupid hand. I know I always say oh I’m such a hoe for XYZ, but I truly am for Dominic Brunsmeier lol bye. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this ride like I did!

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral m/r for once hehe)

✏️ Word-count: 3,120

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

After the few, very tense days the guys had given Y/N to sort her thoughts out, the day had finally come for the winner of the pussy-eating contest to be announced.

Keeping away from them had proved to be quite the feat and although she had managed to keep them in line for longer than she had thought possible, she had somehow succeeded. The only exception had been Dominic, of course, but she had been prepared for that; it had been no surprise. Just as it hadn’t been unwelcome.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he had complained that afternoon, his lips mere millimeters from the skin of her neck, sure of the fact that he’d be crowned as cunnilingus lord before midnight.

He had relented, though, and that never-faltering pout of his didn’t leave his lips until work got busy and tore him from her side.

Now, however, she was sitting in the same common area the contest had been, for lack of other words, signed and with those five pairs of eyes fixed on her, she felt slightly out of place.

They had waited for the other operators to leave. They didn’t need to know about the little game that had been going on while they had been on their missions, just as the contestants didn’t need to feel any kind of weird way about anyone else knowing. Not that they would feel embarrassed, of that Y/N was sure — she knew who she was dealing with, she was no fool — but she still appreciated the privacy. For her own sake, most of all.

“I don’t know what to say,” she chuckled eventually in the otherwise gravelly silent room. The television had been put on mute and the football match the boys had been watching earlier had already been long forgotten. “I didn’t think much about making a speech.”

Never before had she felt the strong impulse of hiding behind something, anything, as she did now. She had done things with them — or, well, they had done things to her, to be precise — just as she had never been embarrassed of talking about sex. Hell, Dominic brought her dirty talk to the next level!

“But I did think of a surprise for the winner,” she continued before anyone could speak, hanging on her every word as they were. The box in her lap felt heavier than it actually was, and if anything, it was comforting to know that the winner’s crown she had come up with on a last-minute lightbulb moment was just as silly as the contest itself.

“Is that something I can use on you?” The smirk Dominic threw her way positively managed to make blood rush to her cheeks. She knew what that look in his eyes could mean, and she found herself impatient at the idea of finally being able to have all of him, and not just his mouth, again starting tomorrow. He had been pissed for a few couple of hours after he had seen his best buddy leave her room with his clothes in his arms and just a towel around his hips — and then when he had seen her wet towel robe on the floor of her room —, so it was good to know that his moody blues had passed.

Elias snorted. “You seem convinced you’re the one who’s gonna win.”

“I’m not gonna win, I have already won,” the other scoffed.

Alexsandr said something, then. Something under his breath that got swept away by the other men’s childish bickering. But also something that sounded an awful lot like they had all won by having the chance of going down on her. It was sweet, in a way, and although she wasn’t sure she had understood his muttered words right, she still smiled a sweet smile at him.

But although he had always been sweet with her, the memory of the things his mouth and fingers had done to her still made the palms of her hands turn clammy and the skin of her cheeks burn.

“There’s no need to bicker, children,” she scolded when Timur pleaded with her with the look in his eyes. “The winner hasn’t been announced yet, I can still change my mind and make you lose points.”

Dominic and Elias shut up at once and almost comically, they whipped their heads in her direction at the same time.

“Don’t be mean, baby.”

“And you don’t test me, Domi.” But she still smiled at the childish pout this burly man gave her.

“How did you give points?” asked Marius, yawning behind his beer. He still hadn’t had the time to recharge completely after his mission and the position he was in at the moment — laid back against the couch, his legs up and crossed at the ankles on the coffee table — made it clear that he was about to fall asleep right then and there.

She shrugged. “That’s for the judge to know. All you need to know is that the prize is this majestic ammo crown —” she laughed as she took the ammunition belt out of the stolen shoebox in her lap — “and another round with me. I did promise that, after all.”

The discussion was sparked again and she let the men poke each other for a while before calling for silence again.

“I will cut this short because this contest has been dragged out long enough.” She rose to her feet and laid the now empty box on the armchair she had been sitting in. “Some of you misbehaved,” she pointed out, throwing Dominic a playfully pointed look. “Most of you tested my rules’ limits. I won’t talk about your performances, I’ll just crown the winner and call it a day. Any sort of complaint before we proceed?”

She trailed a finger down the back of Dominic’s neck when she stopped behind him and he tensed under her touch. And although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was grinning in anticipation.

They all stared at her — all but her man, of course — and she took her time to swipe her gaze over all of them. Marius, half asleep, had been sitting the closest to her armchair. Next to him, Elias could barely wipe that smug smile of his from his face. Timur seemed shy tonight: he had been quiet ever since they had been left alone to that closing ceremony of sorts to their contest, barely opening his mouth to speak. She smiled sweetly at him, but when her gaze landed on Alexsandr, her smile turned into an amused laugh.

“You’re such a man child,” she shook her head as she moved over to stand behind him, unable to calm her laughter down at the smooches he was playfully miming. “I can’t believe this is how the winner gets crowned.”

The ammunition crown fit snugly around his head — and it wasn’t by accident: she had felt like a special agent spy sneaking into the Russians’ locker room in the armory facility to take some measurements of his helmet.

“I’m going to add cunnilingus to the Lord on my shield,” he said with laughter in his voice when she leaned forward from behind and her hands interlocked against his chest.

Just as those words had left his lips, muttering ensued and although they all wanted to complain one way or another, it seemed like they respected her too much to keep it up for long. They pouted — Dominic more than the others, his arms crossed against his chest — and they sat back against their seats in silence.

“Don’t take this to heart,” she smiled eventually, standing up straight and digging her fingertips into the muscles in Alexsandr’s shoulders. “You all know how each of your performances went, and they were all really good. But you all agreed on proclaiming a winner, so here we are. Don’t come at me for having to pick one.”

“Yes, but the old man also won more head.” The others joined in on Elias’ defeated groaning, but no one voiced the additional thought they shared: That’s not fair.

Marius was fast asleep when she looked over at him and hadn’t it been for Alex’s hand wrapping around her wrist when she made to pass by, she would have probably moved over to him and covered him with one of the blankets strewn over the back of one of the other couches.

“I will have to pass that opportunity on to someone else, though, sweetheart.”

She frowned her brows at him, but she didn’t miss the way Dominic’s eyes seemed to spark up at the Russian’s words. “What?”

“Eh, I can accept any kind of death but not one caused by a German,” he shrugged, turning his head to look at Dominic. “The poor man has shared you enough.”

When Dominic slipped into her room behind her, some time later, after some more talking (and complaining) in the common area, it was approaching midnight. They had all drunk a bit — Alex had insisted on a few rounds of vodka to celebrate his victory and his huge, selfless heart — and now Y/N felt nice and warm all over.

Dom, however, was still groaning half-heartedly under his breath and although he didn’t accept another man’s charity, his hands still grabbed her hips from behind and pulled her back against his chest.

“Come on, baby, you know I couldn’t let you win,” she smiled, pressing her ass against his pelvis before forcing him to let go of her so that she could turn around. “You know they would have complained about me cheating to make you win.”

He pouted and huffed, and leaned his head down to hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“You know you’re the only one I want between my legs,” she cooed, hands coming up his arms before her nails gently scraped down the back of his neck.

“But you and Marius…”

She chuckled. “Nothing happened, it was all in here,” and she left a kiss on the side of his head. “I did help him shower after you motherfuckers didn’t give him time to rest after his mission, but he only ate me out.”

“No sex?” His voice had the tone of a petulant child and it made her smile. It kind of gave her heart a squeeze, to see this fearless soldier worrying about the woman he wasn’t even official with having sex with someone else.

“Of course not! Why would I?” He let her pull his head back so that they could stare into each other’s eyes, then. “I’m sorry we played along and let you believe something more happened. It was just a silly way of getting back on you for being so insistent with him, I promise.”

“You’re cruel. Both of you,” he huffed. He still pecked her lips, however, and she smiled up at him.

“At least you got the most valuable part of the final prize, though…”

“By chance!” He picked her up with a grunt that tore a laugh out of her.

“It wasn’t by chance. I’m sure they would’ve all passed not to anger you,” she replied, caressing the back of his head as he laid her down on her bed. “The contest is over. They know you’d snap their fingers if they accepted.”

His groan vibrated against her cheek. “They’re all horny fuckers, they wouldn’t have said no. Bones heal, and two broken hands give you more time on leave, which is always nice.”

“Well, I’d still run back between your legs. That must count, no?”

“It does,” but he was already growing unfocused as his hands moved down to the elastic waistband of her yoga pants. “Now let me claim my prize and then we’ll see if you’ve been forgiven.”

She laughed at his antics but before he could understand what she was doing, she had pulled him into a hold and had reversed their positions.

“Since it’s just you and me, maybe another kind of payback would be more appropriate,” she smirked, sly, “don’t you agree?”

He tilted his head up and stared down at her, at her fingers playing with the button of his jeans, a smirk of his own slowly stretching on his lips. Her hands moved, then, and her cold fingers slipping under his t-shirt and gliding over the skin of his abdomen made his muscles tense as he shivered slightly.

“You were made just for me,” he muttered under his breath when her hands moved south again and made quick work of the button and zipper of his pants.

She chuckled. “I still don’t give in easily, though.” She pulled him up into a sitting position, then, and before he had the time to open his mouth to complain, she was murmuring in his ear, both hands tugging on the hem of his shirt: “Take this off, let me see your tattoos.”

He was quick at complying, tearing the piece of clothing from his body in one swift, fluid movement. She was on his lips right after, his head cradled in her hands as she ground down against him. Slow, unhurried, his hands moved from her hips to up her back, underneath her shirt, and when she gasped lightly at the goosebumps his rough skin caused, he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

It was almost lazy, and for a few minutes, they sat like that, with her in his lap, slowly grinding against his growing erection as they kissed. Then, when he pulled on her lower lip and bucked his hips up, she pulled back, pecked his lips once more, and pushed him back down on his back.

She kissed down his body. Down his neck, his chest, and then back up to his throat — kissing, licking, sucking hickeys on his inked skin. When she eventually reached the waistband of his pants and she looked up at him with a smirk on her lips, she found him already staring down at her, both arms under his head.

She giggled at the sight and before she could focus too much on the throbbing between her legs, she hooked her fingers under both pants and boxers and dragged them down his legs, dropping them to the floor.

He was hard. Hard and thick, arched up against his lower abdomen. For a moment, she was back to a few days ago, when he had come in his hand right next to her, a rough fuck leaving his lips as his back arched. He had been a sight to behold, that was for sure, and when she looked up at him now, she found that one of her hands had absentmindedly slipped into her pants already.

“Fuck, I missed this,” she groaned, grabbing both of his thighs as she moved to lie down between his legs.

“Me or my dick?”

“Both, you silly!” she chuckled, right before she licked a stripe up from his left ball to the tip of his cock.

He sighed, and in her peripheral vision she didn’t miss the way his head leaned back against the mattress when her tongue teased his slit.

“Just don’t tease,” he half-begged, half-warned, the fingers of one hand brushing against the back of her right one, still holding onto his hip. “I won’t last.”

“I’ll behave,” she hummed, lips pressed right under his glans. “Or I’ll try to, at least.”

He groaned his light frustration in a string of huffed German, but he eventually tried to relax back and spread his thighs a little wider for her.

Her thumb came up to smear his pre-cum around, and she proudly smiled at the hissing inhale he took at the sensation.

“Always so sensitive,” she hummed, that same thumb now tracing the rim of his cock’s head.

It was hard to focus when all she could think about was that sensation of fullness, of having him thrust up slowly into her in his usual attempt at driving her crazy.

When he begged her to take her clothes off, she didn’t have to be told twice: she pulled up, hastily removed her clothes, and just as her lips wrapped around his glans once more, two of her fingers moved down to her clit and then the wetness at her entrance. She groaned against him, tongue teasing his frenulum before her hand moved back up and her slick fingers wrapped around the base of his erection.

“Fuck, you touching yourself?” he groaned as one of his hands moved to lay on her head.

She took him deeper into her mouth, giving in to his silent request, and hummed her answer around him. His hips bucked and as she set a rhythm to the bobbing of her head, alternating between that and suckling his head, his moans grew louder, his breathless cussing more frequent.

He was gone the moment she took his balls in her hand, and she did her best to relax around him as he twitched in her mouth and ejaculated down her throat. Her name left his lips in a breathless plea and she almost missed it, lost as she was in his orgasm and in the insistent feeling growing inside her.

She suckled on his glans once more after he had finished ejaculating and she chuckled when he pulled her up and off of him.

“That was fast for your standards,” she giggled, giving him one last lick from base to the slit in his tip and watching him shiver.

“Shut up.”

She kissed her way up his body, then.

“You’re cute with your face all red,” she smiled, pecking his lips and moving her legs so that she was straddling him. “I sure missed that these days.”

After that, she let him catch his breath and when he opened his eyes again, his breathing now even, she didn’t miss the spark of mischief in his smirk and eyes.

“Maybe we should do another contest,” he said slowly, hips bucking up against her. They both moaned at the sensation, and his hands came down to her butt cheeks and squeezed them. When she hummed in question, his smirk grew into a grin. “A cock-sucking one.”

“You’re dreaming!” she laughed. “I don’t share what’s mine, you prick.”

His expression softened into a smile and his hands trailed up her spine, fingertips soft and barely-there, forcing goosebumps in their wake. “So I’m yours?”

“Did you have doubts about it?”

He shrugged one shoulder and smoothed the frown on her forehead with his thumb. “Nah, it’s just good to hear you say it for once.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding On Ch 12: How Very European...

Summary: Frank and Fliss set a date for their wedding and, following her all clear at the 6 weeks postpartum check-up, Fliss decides it’s time to get a bit frisky…only a little someone has other ideas.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, so I had a LOT of fun with this one. I have never had a baby myself, but my best friend tells me some hilarious tales about all sorts of stuff- she has no filter…and neither do I in this chapter. I apologise in advance…

Chapter Song: Whole Lotta Rosie by AC/DC

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Wanna tell you a story, about a woman I know, when it comes to lovin’, she steals the show.

Fliss smiled as she stood looking at the stretch of St Petersburgs beach. The sugar white sands, rustic boardwalks, and the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico had made her fall in love with the place when she has first come here with Frank and Mary almost 2 years ago. It was the place her and Frank had sat on one of their early dates eating Mexican and drinking beer…and it was a stunning backdrop for the beach wedding she had always wanted.

"So the Public Access area has a large metered parking lot for you and your guests. Private condominium rentals and boutique hotels are nearby and can be a great option if you and your guests want to walk to your Wedding ceremony." The wedding planner, a small woman named Bobbi spoke "Or if you fancy there's also Pass-a-Grille or Upham..."

"No." Fliss shook her head and turned round, her eyes shining as she looked at Frank who was stood next to her. "I love this part of the beach and it’s special to us. It’s perfect. " Frank's hand tightened around hers and his mouth turned up into a smile. "I like it too." "Well that was easy!" Bobbi smiled "are you 100% sure you don't want to see the others?" "Yeah." Fliss smiled as Frank pressed a kiss to her temple. "Alright." Bobbie nodded. "So, you mentioned next September?" Frank nodded "We don't need a brunch or reception venue, we got that covered. Just the ceremony." Bobbi nodded and tapped at the tablet she was holding. "Well that makes it a lot easier. Any specific time of day?" "Afternoon." Fliss said. Bobbi hummed before she looked at them "You're in luck. There's a slot at 4pm on the 26th September. Does that work?" Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. He turned back to the woman and smiled "We'll take it." Bobbi nodded. "Alright. Do you wanna head back to the car and I can take the details, get the deposit paid?" "Lead the way." Frank smiled. She turned and walked back over the sand, the two of them following hand in hand. It took them about 15 minutes or so to get the formalities out of the way, but once that was done Bobbi emailed the confirmation over and it was done. They had officially set a date. After she told them a little more about what she would need from them legally over the next few weeks she shook both their hands and said she would be in touch. They both waved her off before Fliss turned to Frank, gave a little shriek of happiness before she flung herself onto his arms. He laughed, picking her up and twirling her round, giving her a soft kiss as he set her on her feet. "363 days to go." She smiled "364" he chuckled "It’s a leap year next year baby." "Details, details..." she waved a hand, her gaze flickering back over the ocean as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her as the stood looking at the area where they would become man and wife in little under 12 months.

“What time are you meeting Bonnie?” Frank asked, breaking the silence as he checked his watch. She should have been out for lunch with her best friend last but Mary had been violently sick on the Saturday night and really clingy to her, so they had rearranged instead for the following Saturday evening which was now upon them almost.

“Erm, half 7. Why?” Fliss looked up at him, her shades covering her eyes.

“It’s 4 now. Fancy a walk?” he nodded towards the sea.

Fliss hesitated, truth be told she wanted to get back to Alex. This was the first time they’d left him with someone else, and whilst it was her parents and she knew she could trust them implicitly, she was still a little on edge about being apart from him.

“Just a quick 15 minutes.” Frank softly coaxed, knowing exactly what was on her mind “Then we can go and get the kids.”

Fliss nodded and the pair of them removed their shoes before they linked hands again, stepping onto the sand which was hot on their feet. The pair of them cursed and hopped from foot to foot, mumbling about how they really should know better now as they hurried to the cooler, wet sand, walking through the light waves as they lapped around their ankles.

“So where are you going tonight?” “Rio’s.” Fliss said, “Same as we planned last week. Apparently the new menu is amazing. Has a grill section, we should take Mary one night when Alex is a little older.”

“We could go now.” Frank said, looking at her “He’s plenty old enough. Feed him before we go, he can sleep whilst we eat.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She said.

“Why are you so against taking him out?” Frank asked softly.

“I’m not, I take him out during the day.”

“I mean to somewhere like that.” He stopped to look at her. “I’ve suggested it a few times that we take them both out for dinner, a treat for Mary maybe, and you’ve vetoed it.

“I know, and I feel guilty enough as it is, I don’t want Mary to miss out.” “She’s not missing out.” Frank shook his head, “She’s spoiled rotten. I just want to know what the problem is. Talk to me honey, please.” Fliss hesitated and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I just, well if he starts crying or he gets unsettled…” “Then we take him outside until he settles and bring him back.” “And if he doesn’t settle?” “Then we get the food wrapped up and take it home.” He shrugged “Fliss, it’s not a big deal. You’re over thinking all of this. He’s a baby, he won’t know where he is, and if he did he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Hey, there’s no need to apologise.” He took both of her hands “I just want us to enjoy our family time, you know. I couldn’t do any of this with Mary when she was a baby and I don’t want that for you.”

“I do enjoy family time.” She shrugged “I honestly don’t know what it is Frank. I just feel safer with him at home you know? There’s no one there to look at me when he starts crying and be sat there judging me about what he’s crying for…” “Babies cry.” Frank shook his head “It’s what they do. Fuck what anyone else thinks.” “I wish I could be as relaxed about it all as you.” Fliss shrugged.

“You keep saying this like I’m some kind of baby guru.” Frank arched an eyebrow over his shades “And I’m not. I had no fucking idea what I was doing with Mary. Still don’t. Look at the mess I made with the court case, sending her into Foster Care…”

“That was different.” “No, it wasn’t” Frank shook his head “I did what I thought was best at the time, yes, but I screwed up. And we’re gonna screw up with Alex along the way and most likely Mary again as she gets older, it’s just a fact of life. But as long as they’re happy, safe and loved…that’s what matters.” “I know, I know.” Fliss took a deep breath as they turned to walk again, “I just don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let either of them down. And I know I’m being stupid, I mean take earlier for example. When we left him with Mum and Dad…I cried for like half an hour after.”

Frank chuckled softly “I know, I was there.”

“Everyone told me I’d be glad to get some time away, but I’m not. I miss him already and…it’s pathetic, I know.” She shrugged.

“No, you’re just a new mom.” He chuckled, squeezing his fingers around hers “It will get easier, I promise.”

“I thought about cancelling tonight.” She admitted “I was secretly glad last week was a no go, I mean I would have preferred it not to be because Mary was sick but…I wasn’t ready. And that’s not because I don’t trust you with him because I do, and I know I’ve left you with him before when I’ve nipped out but it’s just…”

“Lissy, stop.” He smiled, dropping a kiss to her temple “You don’t need to explain, I get it. Honestly I do, but you said you’re driving tonight so you can leave when you want to.” He said, looking at her “Don’t cancel, baby.”

“I’m not going to.” She shook her head “Bonnie would kill me. She’s really down at the moment.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as the continued to splash in the shallow water.

Fliss nodded “She hasn’t told me what’s wrong. I’ll see if I can get it out of her tonight.” Frank pulled her closer, his hand leaving hers as he curled an arm round her shoulder and they continued to walk, talking as they did so. Eventually they reached the part of the beach which curved around the bay and headed over to the boardwalk so they could walk back to the car. As soon as she got back to her parents’, Fliss felt her earlier anxiety ebb away completely as Alex was fast asleep in the bassinet in the kitchen whilst Mary was playing in the pool with Bill and Steve. The entire family was over the moon when they announced they’d booked the date and Verity went off at 100 miles an hour talking about dresses and flowers until Bill gently reached over and squeezed her knee, reminding her it wasn’t her wedding. But neither Fliss nor Frank minded, it was nice to have their family so enthusiastic.

When Frank announced it was time to leave, Mary started protesting saying she wanted to stay the night. Frank refused, as she’d stayed the night before and he didn’t want Bill and Verity feeling obliged, but as usual Verity beamed and told her of course she could say. So they left her there and took Alex home. Once he had been fed, Fliss headed up for a shower and then contemplated what she was going to wear. Whilst she had lost the remainder of her baby bump so to speak, she was still bigger than she had been beforehand so her usual jeans didn’t quite fit yet. When she’d complained to Frank about it and said the last time she had been this size was after her accident, he had gotten a little frustrated at her, telling her that if she dared go on some stupid diet to lose it as fast as she had back then he would be seriously pissed at her. She’d bitten back, snapping at him that she knew it was out of the question. She didn’t want to for starters, as she had been so miserable when she’d been emotionally manipulated into doing so by John, and this time there was Alex to think about. If she was feeding and nursing him she didn’t want to be on some stupid crash diet. Besides which, she wasn’t eating that differently to how she had been before she was pregnant. It was the lack of exercise, as it had been back then. Frank had apologised for snapping, and she’d done the same assuring him that she would be sensible. She knew that she would lose most of it once she could go back to work and start riding again and if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Frank was constantly telling her she was beautiful and besides, what’s a few extra kilos when you have a gorgeous baby boy to show for it?

In the end she opted for a strapless, floaty lemon dress which she had worn in her early pregnancy days that flared out under her breast line and stopped just above her knees. She paired it with a pair of tan, leather gladiator sandals and left her hair down in the soft waves it dried in post her shower. She applied a little make up, smiling to herself at the fact this was probably the first time she had worn it since she had given birth. All in all, she couldn’t deny it was nice to actually feel like Fliss and not just momma bear even though the two went hand in hand now.

Grabbing her purse and dropping her lip gloss and phone inside she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Frank was sat on the sofa, Alex napping in the little basket which lay on the coffee table. He looked up, blinking at her appearance and smiled softly.

“You look fantastic.” He said, honestly.

“Thank you.” She smiled, heading over to give him a quick peck.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” he offered again, nodding to Alex “He’ll sleep on the way.”

“No, honestly I’m not drinking. Well, maybe just one.” She shrugged.

“Back to grape juice instead of apple, huh?” he quipped and she smiled, running her finger over Alex’s rosy cheeks.

“Something like that.” She said, absentmindedly looking at her baby.

“Liss…” Frank said, watching her and she turned to him “Go, we’ll be fine.” “I know, I know…” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m going, I promise…” He chuckled and she gave him another kiss before she headed towards the door, she took a final look back at her baby and fiancée, the latter making a shooing gesture with his hands and she laughed, before she turned and walked out of the room. He heard the front door close behind her a let out a sigh of relief. He’d half been expecting her to back out but she hadn’t, she’d gone. Thankfully. He was desperate for her to go out and enjoy herself, she needed to see other people outside of their little family unit, it wasn’t healthy for her to be as isolated as she seemed to have made herself. He’d actually gotten a little worried to the point that he’d even asked his own Mother for advice and she had assured him that Fliss would settle, pointing out that it was nerve wracking being a new mum. He’d been surprised to learn that Evelyn hadn’t left him with anyone until he was almost 4 months old for fear something would go wrong, and that had comforted him a little to understand that this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It had been slightly different with Diane as she’d leaned on him to help her a lot, but then again most things with Diane had been different.

He leaned back on the sofa, picking up the remote, his eyes falling once more to the basket.

“Just you and me tonight son…” he muttered, flicking to the TV finding the sports channel, selecting a re-run of a Red Sox game. “Time to start your education…” *****

“Oooh, how exciting!” Bonnie exclaimed as Fliss smiled, having just told her about them booking their wedding “It sounds amazing, that’s a gorgeous stretch of beach.”

“Yeah, it’s special to us so…” she smiled, and looked up as the waiter came to take their drinks order.

“Erm, do you want wine?” Bonnie asked.

Fliss hesitated for a second, before she shrugged “Just the one.”

Bonnie smiled and ordered them a bottle of Chardonnay and a large bottle of water. Once the Waiter was out of ear shot Fliss leaned forward “This way I don't need to pump and dump...”

Bonnie laughed “I always find that odd. I mean pumping and dumping doesn't get alcohol out of your system does it?” “No, but if I wanted to go out and get drunk I’d have to wait until I was sure all the alcohol had left my system before I fed him again.” Fliss shrugged “He’s already bottle fed at night so Frank can help and I wake up and my boobs are like fucking water melons so you can you imagine what they would be like after like 12 hours or whatever if I didn’t.” she shook her head. “But one glass, well my mum, midwife and Doctor Google say if I'm not feeding in the next 2 or 3 hours I should be ok.”

Their chat turned to Mary’s adoption, Fliss filling Bonnie in on how they’d begun the process legally now, Greg sorting and filing the paperwork and contacting her biological father earlier that week. So far they had heard nothing but they should start to see things progress fairly quickly once he had given his consent.

“And even if he doesn’t, Greg seems confident the court would find in our favour, Mary having been in Frank’s care since she was 6 months old.” Fliss shrugged, thanking the waiter as he placed the two bottles on the table. “So we’re not concerned, it would just be a lot easier and smoother if he does the right thing, you know?” The waiter finished filling both their glasses then placed the wine in the ice bucket before he then poured them each a water and asked them for their food orders. They placed them, Bonnie opting for scallops and the ribs, Fliss deciding on calamari and the steak. Once he was gone Bonnie looked at Fliss, picking up her glass.

“Do you think he will? Object, I mean.” Fliss paused, pondering for a moment “I don’t think so, I mean why would he? He made no effort to find Mary before the court case and now, even though he knows where she is, he still hasn’t so…” she shrugged, picking up her drink.

“Well…” Bonnie leaned over, holding her wine glass up “Here’s to it going smoothly and your first girl’s night out since becoming a momma.”

Fliss smiled and clinked her glass against Bonnie’s, before she took a sip and let out a soft moan “God that tastes sooo good.” “Well you could always dump the car as well as the milk.” Bonnie gestured to the bottle that lay in the ice bucket and Fliss laughed, shaking her head.

“Maybe next time.” She pulled out her phone and took a snap of her glass, sending it to Frank with the caption “Ok, so it tastes as good as I remember…” before she dropped her phone on the table.

They chatted a little more about general things, what Fliss had in mind for the wedding, the type of dress she thought she wanted, colour for bridesmaids, most of which she couldn’t answer as she had no idea really. It was odd that it was going to be her choice, but exciting none-the-less. At one point, her phone buzzed and she picked it up, letting out a chuckle at Frank’s reply to her earlier message. It was a photo of a beer bottle and a baby bottle side by side on the kitchen counter along with the words “Boy’s night in.” She showed it to Bonnie who gave a snort and Fliss placed the phone down and looked at her.

“So, what’s going on with you? I can tell you’re down.”

Bonnie fiddled slightly with her cutlery, before she shrugged “Simon’s being odd. I mean odder than normal before you say it.”

Fliss smiled and waited for her to continue.

“The last week or so, it’s like his mind is elsewhere. I’m beginning to wonder where it is, or more to the point who it’s with.”

Fliss frowned, her wine glass paused slightly in front of her mouth “You think he’s cheating?”

Bonnie shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know. Something’s going on.”

“I don’t think he would.” Fliss shook her head. “Is he not just stressed with work? Frank can get a little sullen if he’s got a lot on.” “Maybe.” Bonnie mused “He’s just normally so attentive and fun…I’m likely thinking too much into it, it’s probably nothing.”

“You should ask him straight.” Fliss said, looking at her “Tell him how you feel, give him a chance to explain. If there’s one thing the whole Vegas incident with Frank taught me is that things ain’t always what they seem Bon. It’s bound to be something really simple that’s just playing on his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bonnie nodded “I’ll ask him.”

At that point their starters arrived and they both started to eat, and Bonnie grinned. “So, anyway, back to your dress…you’d look fantastic in a straight, little lace number…” By the time they had finished eating and chatting, Fliss was wearing a bright, bubble-gum pink meringue complete with crystals and a sweetheart neckline to get married in-“because, you know- watermelons…” and the bridesmaids were all going to be in lime green. Fliss had told Bonnie to be careful what she was suggesting, as she didn’t think the woman’s skin tone would take kindly to be dressed in such a colour, at which point Bonnie had nearly choked and her eyes had filled as Fliss smiled and nodded, confirming that she’d just asked Bonnie to take the job. After a loud acceptance, Bonnie had jumped up and hugged Fliss, drawing curious glances from the tables around them.

Fliss dropped Bonnie at the condo she shared with Simon, along with an instruction to call her if she needed to chat again, and then she headed back home arriving just after 11pm. Letting herself in quietly, she made her way into the family room and paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of her. Frank was led on the sofa, Alex clutched to his chest with two strong hands, the baby boy fast asleep.

“Before you panic…” Frank spoke, making her jump a little “I’m not asleep. Just resting my eyes.”

“I wasn’t panicking.” Fliss said, honestly “I know you’d never let him fall.”

Frank cracked open his eyes and smiled “You have a nice time?” he asked as she walked towards him. He gently shifted so he was sat up, Alex still held to his chest securely as Fliss sat next to him, peeking at the sleeping baby.

“Yeah, I did.” She nodded “The food was good. We definitely need to go.”

“Did you find out what was bothering Bonnie?”

“Yeah, she said Simon’s being odd with her.”

“Odder than normal?”

Fliss snorted, “That’s exactly what she said.” And she took a deep breath “She thinks he’s playing away.”

“Si?” Frank looked at her, “No, absolutely not. In fact, she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss frowned and Frank hesitated.

“He told me last week, and this cannot go any further as he will kill me, but he’s gonna propose.”

Fliss’ mouth dropped open before her face split into a grin “No shit?”

“Yes shit.” Frank nodded, smiling “Told me when he was drunk in Fergs.” Fliss leaned back against the cushions on the sofa, and her smile slipped a little “Oh shit.”

“What?” “I told her to talk to him, ask him what the problem was.” “Sensible advice in normal circumstances.” Frank shrugged “Don’t sweat it, it’ll be fine.”

“So when’s he gonna ask her?”

“No idea.” Frank shrugged “He didn’t say.”

“Did he not ask for ideas?”

Frank snorted “I’m the last person he should be asking. I was carrying your damned ring around for weeks trying to find the right moment. I almost did it by the tree at the Rockefeller centre, and then that ass hole beat me to it.”

Fliss gave a soft laugh as she shook her head “The way you did it was perfect.” “Yeah, I got there in the end.” He grinned.

At that point Alex stirred a little, making a few gripey noises before he began to get more restless, rooting against Frank’s T-shirt. “Think he might be hungry.” Frank smiled “Good timing Momma.”

Fliss chuckled and took Alex in her arms, adjusting her top as Frank stood up, heading to the kitchen “You want a drink?” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, camomile tea if there’s any going?”

Frank flipped on the kettle and watched from the counter as his girl nursed their baby, a deep sense of contentment brewing in his stomach, along with the usual low-key arousal he felt whenever she was doing anything with their son. Seeing her interact with his baby, the baby she’d carried and given birth to was purely amazing and he loved watching it. He made her a tea, grabbed himself another beer and then sat down next to her as she finished up feeding and he offered to take Alex to wind him as she sorted herself out and had her drink. Eventually he settled again and went back down, leaving the two of them to snuggle up on the couch. They stayed together for half an hour or so before Fliss yawned and said she needed to sleep.

“I’ll take him up. You coming?” she asked.

“I’ll be up shortly” he promised as she sat up, cracking her neck.

“Oh, gonna watch porn and jerk off?” she teased and he sighed, shooting her a look.

“You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.” She shrugged, leaning over to kiss him softly.

“What would you do if I was?” he mumbled against her lips and she paused, pulling back slightly, arching her eyebrows.

“Well, I’d probably have to remind you that the real thing is much better.” She said, her hand gently cupping at his crotch.

“Ok, you need to stop.” He said, his voice a whisper before he let out a groan as she ignored him completely, her grip growing harder and his hand wrapped gently around her wrist. “Lissy, seriously…” “Oh shut up” she mumbled, before she shook off his grip and snaked her hand into the waistband of his shorts, taking his hardening member in her hand. She gave it a light pump or two before she pulled at his shorts, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down.

“Baby…” he said softly, but his protests died in his throat as she bent down and took him to the back of hers.

*****

“Well, I’m happy that everything seems ok and back to normal.” The Ob Gyn smiled at Fliss as she moved away from where she had been examining her “So if you feel ok in yourself, no physical pain, nothing…” “Nope, nothing at all.” Fliss shook her head

“Well then Miss Gallagher your life can go back to normal” she smiled, “Well, as normal as it is 6 weeks post giving birth.”

Fliss smiled “So I can start riding again?”

“Yup, as long as you make sure you take it easy. As with anything, you won’t have used certain muscles in a while so be careful.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded.

“Are you going to continue breast feeding?” the woman asked and Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, which is something I wanted to talk to you about. What contraception can I use?”

“There’s condoms obviously, I can prescribe the mini pill or there’s the IUD.”

“Is an IUD safe?” Fliss asked, “I don’t want to use condoms and to be honest, with my baby brain I’ll probably end up forgetting my pill. That’s what led us here in the first place and that was before I’d had a baby.”

The Doctor chuckled. “To be honest, the most effective contraceptives are intrauterine devices and they’re perfectly safe despite what you might read on the internet. The Mirena IUD releases a very small amount of hormone into the uterus, where it works locally and it won’t affect the quality and quantity of breast milk, and it’s also safe and effective for five years. It’s a good choice, one I prefer to recommend when I can.”

Fliss nodded “Ok, that seems like a good choice. How do I get one fit?”

“I can do it now if you want.” The woman smiled “And the best bit is it works immediately.” “Straight away?” Fliss looked at her “So…” “Yep.” The Ob Gyn smiled “You can go straight home and jump his bones if you so wish.”

Fliss laughed, and contemplated the woman’s words for a second. She did want. Truth be told she’d been low key horny since she’d blown Frank off on the couch a fortnight or so ago, but hadn’t wanted to rush anything, choosing to wait instead for the all clear at her 6 week check-up. Now, well, there was nothing stopping them getting physically close again and the thought drew a smile to her face. She couldn’t wait to have her Sailor holding her again.

“Ok, yeah” she nodded to the woman who smiled.

“I’ll sort the paper work, grab my kit and be right back.” The doctor smiled.

Driving home Fliss had all sorts of thoughts about how to make their night special. Romantic candles perhaps, maybe a little nice underwear…that is if she could find any that fit her still.

But of course, best laid plans and all that. In reality, the evening unfolded like any other, with shitty diapers, breast pumping, and a dinner eaten while taking turns bouncing a 6 week old baby in their laps as he had chosen that particular night to be awkward about settling after his feed, it was almost as if he could sense what Fliss had in mind and was doing his best to veto her plans.

Around 9 pm once Mary was in bed and Alex had been bathed, changed and fed, Fliss slipped away to prepare her body for its first round of postnatal coitus. She took a bath to unwind and shaved her armpits and legs. She also considered tackling her lady bush, but realized that her razor wasn’t sharp enough for that jungle right now so Frank was just going to have to deal with the crotch afro if he wanted a bit.

She climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in her robe, heading into the bedroom where she dried off and set about her skin care routine before she decided to go the whole hog and paint her toenails a deep crimson colour, replacing the shimmery baby pink that she had done a few weeks ago as celebration she could finally see her damned feet again. Then she shed her robe and stole a quick look in the mirror. All things considered she conceded she didn’t look too bad. She wasn’t so much bothered by the extra pounds but more so slightly disturbed by the way they seemed to have positioned themselves on her body. It was almost like small, flesh-coloured bread loaves stapled to her belly. But, like she knew she could sort most of that out with riding and getting more active again, what she wasn’t sure exercise would do anything for was her breasts. They were large, which in itself wasn’t a problem, on the contrary in fact, as Frank was a self-proclaimed boob man, but her nipples had starburst over her breasts without any clearly definitive ending points. She was debating whether or not to try and put a little foundation on them, to tone down the nipple extravaganza but stopped herself, realising she was being utterly fucking ridiculous.

This was Frank she was preparing for. The man she’d been with for years, her fiancée whose baby she had carried and given birth to. And she knew he loved her, starfish nips or not.

She set about finding some suitable underwear. She had a few nice sets, some she had bought for herself, some Frank had purchased for her but as she laid them out on the bed she knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable in any of them. Continuing her search she finally found a pair of black lace briefs that skated along her ass cheeks and a black sheer negligee that she had worn a few times pre- pregnancy, in particular one very raunchy night where she’d surprised Frank by wearing it in the kitchen one evening when Mary had been at Roberta’s, cooking their dinner as if it was perfectly normal to be dressed that way. Dinner had ended up burnt, the smoke detectors going off, and they’d sat curled up with a Thai take out and all the windows open in an attempt to rid the place of the smell of cremated lamb chops and potatoes.

She shimmied into it, and to her delight it fit, even if her breasts were a little larger. They spilled over the top but her cleavage looked Elizabethan in a sexy way, and she grinned as she knew exactly what Frank was going to say about that. Finally, she removed her hair form its high bun, which had served nicely to give it some volume and fluffed it up and decided that the overall effect was actually pretty good.

She lay back on the bed, grabbed her phone and turned it into selfie mode, angling it just right so that she could get the full effect before she checked it, and fired it to Frank with a downright filthy message accompanying it and lay back to wait.

***** Frank had nodded when Fliss had said she was tired and needed to go to bed, and promised he’d be up in an hour or so, wanting to give her the time to just unwind. She’d been for her 6 week check-up and had assured him that everything was fine, but her general demeanour told him she was keeping something from him.

Trying not to think about it too much, he settled Alex down and flicked over to catch a re-run of Game of Thrones. It was the Battle Of The Bastards, his favourite episode of the entire series, and he was just mumbling to himself, calling Rickon Stark a ‘dumb ass mother fucker’ for not zig-zagging when his phone went. He absentmindedly reached for it, wondering if it was Simon telling him he’d finally grown a pair of balls and proposed, but it wasn’t, it was Fliss.

He opened the message and as soon as he saw the image he spluttered and the soda he had just taken a drink of dribbled straight down his shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” he mumbled, wiping at the spilled Fanta, as he stared at the photo. His girl was led on the bed, in a sheer negligee, her hair fanning over the pillow, eyes bright and mischievous and the shot was angled to give a perfect shot of the top of her cleavage. It was accompanied with the words. “Oh I forgot to tell you, your favourite legs are back open for business…”

“You devious little minx…” he mumbled, suddenly understanding exactly what it was she’d been hiding from him, and his cock stirred in his pants. In a flash her was up off the sofa, shoving Thor out of the door so he could pee before he locked up, gathered Alex in his arms and made his way up the stairs as fast as he could, letting the dog into Mary’s room as he was scrambling at the door to get in.

“What kept you?” Fliss asked as he walked into the room, gently placing Alex in the bedside crib, making sure the blankets were arranged carefully.

“Well you kinda caught me off guard…” he said, lifting an eyebrow as he gently lowered himself over her on the bed, gently tugging her hips and pulling her down slightly before he propped himself up on his elbows, caging her between his arms and legs. “You look sexy as fuck baby girl!” Fliss let out a grin as his lips met hers, and his eyes lowered to her cleavage and he gave a groan. “And I’m not supposed to touch these?”

“No.”

“At all?”

“Not unless you want a face full of milk.” She looked at him.

“Is it strange I find that a little kinky?” he grinned and she blinked, shaking her head with a snort.

“You have issues.”

“Yeah and right now they’re in the trouser department.” He mumbled, dropping his lips to hers “I nearly choked when you sent me that message.”

“You like?” she purred gently and he let out another groan and nodded.

“I did, I do. A lot.” He smirked, his lips pressing to hers again. The kiss quickly became heated, his hands tangling in her hair has he held her head still, and then he felt her pull away a little, and he frowned as she looked at him, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

"Is it weird that we’re like gonna have sex with our baby in the same room? Can he see us?” she asked, her head rolling to look at Alex. "No, he can't even focus yet, and it’s not weird. I’m a modern man.” He said, his hand cupping her cheek and turning his face back to his. “This is how it’s done. It’s probably very European of us actually." "Frank I'm from England..." she rolled her eyes. "Lissy..." he sighed softly, “Look, if you don't wanna..."

“No I do, I really do…” she took a deep breath “Sorry, I just…” “It’s ok…” he gave her a soft smile, before his lips found hers again. In between the dizzying kisses Frank moved his right hand, his fingers gently tracing up the outside of her thigh and under the hem of the sheer lace slip she was wearing, and his mouth moved to lightly trail kisses across her bare collar bone. With a soft sigh she nodded, acknowledging his unasked question and his lips moved downwards peppering warm, open mouthed peck across the swell of her cleavage, careful to take his time and stay gentle. Fliss let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose up her sternum, nudging her chin back so he could turn his affections back to her neck. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he nipped at her neck and he felt her shiver underneath him.

“You ok?” he asked quietly, looking down at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he stood up, scrambling out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.

Fliss was utterly gone now, consumed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as he continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’ eyelids fluttering shut as she felt him fill her.

“Go steady.” she whispered and with a gently nod Frank began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be, enjoying the sensation of once more being inside her, in top of her, surrounded by her.

Meanwhile, Fliss was just as lost, but in her own thoughts. For some reason as good as she had felt before, now she was starting to panic a little, that stupid voice in her head mumbling all sorts of dumbass thoughts.

Okay, this feels familiar. Sex feels the same. Does it feel the same for him? Is he taking longer than normal? Oh shit, maybe I’m super stretched out and it’s terrible. Maybe I’m different now, and I’ll never be as good. Maybe I was never THAT good to start with though? I’ll ask… “Is it good? Is it the same as it was?” she gasped out and Frank stilled, looking down at her.

“What?” he panted slightly. "I asked does it feel the same? I mean..." He leaned down, gently rubbing his nose against hers. “It’s great … it feels really good.” He reassured her and she nodded.

“Ok, you can go a bit faster…”

“I don’t want to.” He mumbled, giving her a deep kiss. And he didn’t. He was enjoying the slowness of it all, and he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot, drawing those delectable sounds from her throat. Fliss’ senses were on fire, and she broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his shoulder when she felt herself starting to unravel.

And then…

A loud cry came from the basinet. They both stilled, looked at one another, and glanced over to the side of the bed. Silence, no movement bar the waving of a little arm.

"He's going to cry.” Fliss said between her deep breathing “If he cries, do we stop? Is it child abuse if we keep going until we finish?" "He's stopped." Frank said, turning his head back to her. “What if there's something wrong and we’re here just boning."

Frank shut her up with a languid roll of his hips and she gave a soft gasp, her hands grasping at his biceps.

“Liss, he’s fine.”

“'We’re the kind of negligent parents…oh fuck….” She groaned as he tilted his hips again… “The one’s you’d see in a movie like Trainspotting."

He shook his head, pulling out a little before he sank back into her, her body moving with his slightly and she looked up at him.

“When the police ask what happened, do we lie? Or do we say we were having sex while our baby quietly suffocated a few feet away?”

“For fucks sake Lissy…” he spluttered in frustration “You gave me a blow job the other week on the sofa and he was asleep in the basket on the coffee table.”

“That was different” “How?”

“We were on the couch and I wasn't naked.” “You’re not naked now.” He shook his head “Will you shut up and let me make you feel good?” Her random, stupid worries stopped and she closed her eyes, nodding, and he started his movements again. It didn’t take him long to get them back to where they were, his thrusts deep and he picked up his pace ever so slightly, her hands flying to his bare back as she gripped him tighter, wanting to feel all of him, as close as she possibly could. His lips found hers and she took the kiss, it leaving her breathless as the heat began to rise in her belly and she let out a soft moan, which he swallowed with his mouth where it morphed into his own low, mumble of her name as he felt her clench around him. The sheets rustled underneath them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Fliss’ let her head tip back, her throat bared to Frank in utter bliss as she came hard, the world spinning around her, her moans soft and breathy as her legs trembled, sheer pleasure spearing through her entire body.

Frank gave a low grunt which tuned into a gasp as he clung to his girl, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward.

“That was fucking great.” he said, voice muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and she felt herself flush. She let out a chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair.

“Yeah, we still got it Sailor.” She said and it was his turn to chuckle as he moved and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

And then Alex did erupt into a full on screaming fit. Frank found himself thanking his son that he’d at least had the good grace to wait until he’d finished. He rolled off Fliss, landing on his back, hand running through his hair as she sat up and scooped Alex into her arms, sitting up against the headboard with him held to her, in the bed where his parents’ sinful deeds were likely still detectable. Frank looked at her, then to Alex whose tiny face was creased up in a loud wail as Fliss held him to her chest, trying to soothe him and he arched an eyebrow. "I take it the post sex snuggling is out?"

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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sams-sass · 4 years

Text

The Others pt 7

Here is the next part to The Others. Hope you guys like it, thanks for all the love, and as always: stay sassy.

*sorry if I tagged you already, I accidentally deleted the original post.

Read Parts One through Six here:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Pairings: Sam x Psychic!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of death, discussions of past and self doubt, angst, fluff

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You were laying across the backseat of the impala, Jenny laying on top of you. You felt her hot tears hitting your shirt and soaking through to your skin. You were taking her home. There was no need for her to suffer anymore than she already had. She had seen and dealt enough with the demons. Her family had been worried sick since she was reported missing at the school and it was time she went home. It was time she had the chance to recuperate in peace with people she loved and who loved her right back.

“I’m so sorry.” She said against your chest, her voice was small.

“Don’t be sorry. You have been so brave throughout this whole thing. You deserve some rest.” You ran your fingers through her hair and wrapped your arms around her.

“Y/N is right, Jenny. You have done more than enough, you should be with your family now. We’ll get the sons of bitches.” Dean said, looking at the two of you in the rearview mirror. Jenny sniffled and nodded, closing her eyes tight in fear.

“What am I going to tell them?” She asked, sitting up and looking out the window.

“As much of the truth as you want. If you want to make up a complete lie, I will back you up. If you want to tell them everything, I will back you up. Tell them whatever you feel comfortable with.” You found her eyes, sending her a reassuring smile and grabbing her hand. She tried to smile back, but you could still see the worry in her eyes.

Dean pulled up to her house about an hour later, all the lights were on and you could see movement inside. Jenny’s lips parted and all the air in her lungs felt trapped. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. The door flung open and her mom ran out onto the driveway. You saw Jenny’s face twist in both pain and relief as she opened the door and ran into her mothers waiting arms. They cried together, holding each other tightly in the cool evening air. You touched your cheek and felt the wetness on your skin, realizing you were crying as well. You got out of the car and walked over to them, touched Jenny on the shoulder. They pulled apart and her mother quickly gathered you in her arms as well.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for bringing my baby home.” She whispered in your ear. Jenny pulled you to her after her mom let you go. You inhaled her scent and let it stay in your lungs for a moment. She pulled back slightly, still holding you in her arms. She looked you deep in the eyes.

“You can do this, Y/N. You go back there and you kick ass. You are so strong, I am so proud of you. You kill those bastards for what they did to me.” Her eyes were filled with tears, her face red and swollen. You nodded, holding back your emotions. She let you go and fell against her mom again, they walked inside holding each other as you climbed back in the car.

“Ready?” Sam asked, turning around to look at you. You paused for a moment and let the question settle inside you. You were ready. Ready to take the fight to them, ready to use whatever strength you had to get the job done. You were ready to end this.

“Ready.” You answered, your voice was even and calm.

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

Jenny didn’t live far from campus, you pulled in about an hour and a half later. The three of you went into your apartment to make a plan and for a place to crash. You moved everything off the dining room table so the boys could lay out maps of campus, books bobby gave you, and a journal. Sam left to get you guys food, leaving you and Dean alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if you come with us.” Dean didn’t even wait for the door to fully close.

“Sam already gave me the ‘I don’t want you to get hurt’ speech.” You answered, looking up at him.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to come, Y/N. I was with him when Jess died. It almost broke him. He had nightmares about her death for months afterward. He couldn’t mention her without almost breaking down, I still see him struggle with it. I also see that he cares for you deeply and I can’t watch him get hurt again, not like that. Especially because it’s this demon.” Dean had come around the table and took your shoulders in his hands. Looking directly into your eyes.

“Dean, I can’t imagine what you and Sam have gone through because of this demon. Your mom and then Sam’s girlfriend, it’s horrible and I am so sorry. I have to do this, Dean, I have to fight them for Jenny. She is like a sister to me, and what they did to her…and that I had to watch it. I want them gone. For good. For Jenny, for Jess, for your mom, and for you two. I completely understand that you don’t want me to get hurt. If I was in your shoes, I would be saying the same thing. I’m going with you. I have to do this.” Now it was your turn to look into Dean’s eyes.

“Well, you’re stubborn. You and Sam have that in common.” Dean laughed, taking his hands off your shoulders. You giggled too, playing with a strand of hair. Sam walked in with food and beer, handing one to his brother and then you. You ate in relative silence, most of the food untouched. Then you made your plan.

“I say, we just give them what they want. Me on a platter.” Sam said, taking a sip of beer.

“No, Sam, that’s just stupid and too risky.” Dean argued back. “Somehow we need to get in there so we can make devils traps in the house.” He leaned back in his chair.

“What if we go first thing in the morning and watch? We know how many of them are in there and they can’t all be missing class.” You suggested, placing your elbows on the table.

“Best idea I have heard all night.” Dean replied, standing and stretching his arms out. “I’m exhausted, night you two.” He then walked away and into Jenny’s room to get some rest, not giving Sam anytime to argue back. Sam let out a long sigh next to you and sunk a little in his chair, defeated.

“I’m gonna shower, why don’t you find something for us to watch.” You stood and ran your fingers through his hair, cupping his jaw with your hand before walking away.

After your shower, you joined Sam on the couch with your beer. He was still flipping through channels, his eyes clearly not seeing the screen. You reached over and placed your hand over his, taking the remote and turning off the TV.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling your legs up onto the couch.

“Talk about what?” He asked back. There was a smidge of anger in his voice.

“Whatever is bothering you.” You answered, leaning closer to him.

“This demon. It killed my mom. It killed Jess. Dean and I, we think it killed our dad too. Y/N, if it does anything to you…I don’t think I could handle it. I don’t think I could go on. I have already lost three people and my childhood to this demon. I can’t-I can’t lose anyone else I care about. I really wish you would just stay here tomorrow.” He tried again to tell you how he felt. You could see the unshed tears and raw emotion in his eyes as he spoke. You licked your lips and looked down at the couch, taking a deep breath into your lungs.

“When I was 10 I had a crush on this boy down the street. His name was Riley. He was a year older than me so I thought he was really cool and mature.” You smiled at the memory, Sam smiled with you. “One day, we were playing outside. It was a nice sunny day out. I remember the smell of his moms flower garden. He touched my shoulder, nothing weird, but I saw it. I saw how he died. I watched him get hit by a car while he was on his bike. I saw his bike, the metal mangled and twisted in the road. I felt his last breath leave his lungs. I heard his head hit the pavement so hard it cracked. And do you know what I did?” You looked directly at Sam then, he was hanging on every word you were speaking. He shook his head and waited for the answer. “Nothing. I didn’t do a damn thing. I went home and never spoke of it to anyone. I was petrified. What would happen if I told someone? Would they yell at me? Would I get in trouble? Then, the most amazing thing happened. Nothing. Nothing happened to Riley, he went and lived his life. For two more years. On a warm summers night in the middle of July, fate took him. The crickets were so loud that night, and the moon was full and heavy in the sky. When he was 13 years old he was riding his bike home from a friends, it wasn’t too late but it was already dark out. The car didn’t see him. He died and it was all my fault because I kept this horrible secret to myself. I didn’t tell anyone because I was scared what would happen to me, and Riley died because of it.” You were crying now, the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Y/N, it wasn’t your fault, you probably couldn’t have stopped it.” Sam leaned towards you, his hand running over yours.

“I felt it as soon as it happened. I was in my room, enjoying my Friday night and my heart stopped. I heard his breath in my ear. He never came to visit me, but I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. On summer nights when I am laying alone in bed, the wind outside will sound like his last breath. When the moon is full and high in the sky, I see the way the moonlight reflected off his bike in the street. When the nights are warm and the crickets are singing their endless song, I can still see his honey brown eyes and his curly black hair. Ever since the day he died I have lived in fear of closing my eyes, for what I might see when I do. I am always afraid of the cold and lonely nights when the air changes and I see my breath against the pitch black of night. Who will come into my room? Who will touch me with their boney, cold and grey skin. Who will whisper in my ear with their rotting breath?” You looked up at him. Your eyes wide. “Then you came. I touched you and I felt warm again, you kissed me and I saw colors again. I have to do this, Sam. I have to fight them, because if I don’t it will haunt me for the rest of my days. I will see those girls every time I close my eyes, just like Riley. I got pulled into this, and I intend to see it through.” You swallowed down your emotions, your throat raw from crying.

“I know what you mean. When I touch you, I feel warm too. I feel excited and calm all at once. When we kissed, I swear I could feel myself being filled from head to toe. I’m not sure what spell is over us, but I don’t want it to ever be broken.” He reached up, running his fingers over your cheek. “We’ll do this together.” He nodded once, looking you in the eye. You smiled and jumped on top of him. Your arms flying around his neck and holding him impossibly close to you. Your legs on either side of his trim waist, heat rolling through you. Your lips molded against his, bring all sorts of feelings up. The way his hands twisted into your hair, pulling ever so slightly. The way he listened to your every breath and sound, following your exact instructions. It was like the two of you were reading each other, never ending chapters written with heartbeats and breaths across skin.

The next morning you were in the impala outside the frat house. It was early. You yawned in the cold and staleness of morning, blinking your eyes. You held the coffee cup in both of your hands, keeping them warm. Movement. All of you turned and looked through whatever windows you could see into. Two boys left the house. They didn’t say a word the entire time, just walking with vacant expressions. About fifteen minuets later three more left, wearing the same vacant expressions. The three of you exchanged looks. Another twenty minuets went by and then two more walked out, one of them being Brandon. After they were out of eyesight you went in, Dean first with you and Sam behind. Sam kept you closely behind him. Sam had his gun raised in front of him. He was in a crouching stance as he silently walked around the house, clearing each room.

“Hold onto my jacket.” He whispered, turning his head slightly. You reached up and grabbed a fistful of his jacket, stepping with him throughout the house. There was no one in the house, you were all alone.

“Well, once again, that was weirdly easy.” Dean said, lowering his gun slightly. Sam nodded in agreement. Even for you, it did seem too easy. The boys lifted rugs, moved beds, and rearranged furniture to paint devils traps on the floor. They stood on chairs and counters to paint them on the ceiling as well. You looked around the house, touching things as you went. Something was bothering you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. There was a strange buzzing happening inside you, it seemed like it was leading you somewhere. You closed your eyes and opened your mind. Listening to the energy around you. It was pulling you towards the basement. You opened the door and turned the light on. The moldy and stale air hit you in the face instantly. You gingerly walked down the stairs and into the disgusting and grimy basement. Dirt and dust covered every inch. Insects and rodents, dead and alive, were everywhere. You moved through the basement, keeping your arms close to your side. There was a doorway, when you walked through you saw the room from your vision. This is where they hurt Jenny. This is where the yellow eyed demon spoke to you. This is where they would sacrifice you. The buzzing was back and stronger than before. You held up one hand as you walked, letting it guide you. Off to the side was a door. You touched the doorknob and took a sharp inhale.

A girl laid on the table. She was bloody and old looking. Her eyes were wide, but unseeing. She was dead. You saw that she had the same brand on her chest that Jenny had. Brandon lifted her from the table and opened the door. He tossed her body in with the others before he wiped his hands on his jeans, his face a scowl.

You blinked back into the now, your breath coming in ragged. You raced back up the stairs and ran directly into Sam, wrapping your arms around him. He held you against him, his fingers tracing your neck.

“They are in the basement.” You mumbled against his shirt. “All of them, the girls. They are down there.” You felt him lift his chin off the top of your head. You leaned back to look at him, his face was one of worry.

“Sam, take her back to her apartment.” Dean walked over to the two of you.

“Dean, what if they come back?” Sam asked, letting you go.

“I’ve got an arsenal.” Dean replied, flicking his head towards his duffel bag.

“I’ll drop her off and then come right back.” Sam said, walking towards the door. You in tow. You wanted to help, but something told you there was something that needed to be done. Something that you didn’t want or need to see. You and Sam climbed into the impala and headed back to your apartment. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, most of the day spent at the house. You and Sam walked into the apartment, something didn’t feel right. A chill ran through you and you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard the sound of a hard object against a skull. Heard Sam fall to the floor. Then you felt the sharp pain yourself, you fell to the floor. Blackness took you.

You woke with a throbbing and heavy pain in your head. You blinked a few times, your vision blurry. You lifted your head feeling your body screaming at you. You groaned and tried to move your hands, only to realize they were tied behind your back. You panicked and began to wiggle, jolting your arms against the ropes.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your eyes widened and your head shot up towards the voice. Brandon. “I see you brought me a Winchester as well.” He was leaning against the doorframe into your living room.

“I’ll kill you.” Sam spoke, he was tied up too. His back against yours in the middle of your kitchen. There was suddenly banging on the door.

“Sam! Y/N!” Deans voice was panicked as he pounded on the door.

“Can’t let big bro get to you.” Brandon pushed himself off the wall and placed his hands on you and Sam’s shoulders. There was a whooshing sound and then you were in the basement. The filthy and disgusting basement. All the frat boys were standing around the table in the basement. Their bodies were covered in bruises and their eyes were a deep onyx. There was another man there that you didn’t recognize. He was older than the others and you didn’t understand why he was there in the basement. He had a large smile on his face that looked ghastly against the darkness of the situation. He turned his head slightly and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, a pale and spotted yellow. He looked directly at you. Directly into your eyes.

“Hello, Y/N, I have waited so so long.” His voice was grossly cheery in the dank basement.

Tags: @watermelonlipstick @virtualheaderssupernaturalnerd @aeo10fan @hecatemacbeth7 @doctorlilo @wnchetrs @lukawats @defenderrosetyler

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selfmadesuperhero · 4 years

Text

i’m very much not okay

and i’ll probably take very long for me to explain why

i don’t know how to write this. i don’t know where to even start. i’m here because i just don’t have anywhere else to go. i can’t afford therapy. i no longer have any close friends other than Mabu (gf).

it’s getting pretty bad inside my head

i know most people’s lives are hell this year and i’m not special. i know that. to me, this year is feeling like the last nail in my coffin because 2019 had already chewed me up and spit me out.

i kept my last job for eight years. after my first year there, another developer came in, and we became friends. we worked side by side less than 4 feet apart for six years. our hours were flexible but we always agreed upon our schedule just so work would be more bearable, because we both hated it and often had to team up against our boss’ downright abuse. it was a very small company (at its biggest we were only 7 employees). we were also going to graduate at the same time from the same school (different majors), so we had a bit of a pact to leave our shitty boss once we’d graduated and start developing our own, way less shitty games.

at the start of 2019, he got an excellent job offer. i was thrilled for him and told him to of course get out of that hellhole we hated so much, we were only there because the pay was decent and the hours were flexible so we could get our degree, you know? it stung, but i was happy for him. on the last day i gave him a ride home (which is also something i did almost daily), he surprised me by hugging me and telling me i was like a brother to him and our plans weren’t going to change.

i believed him, and went back to work. he was soon replaced, obviously, by a junior developer because that’s how capitalism works. but suddenly, i no longer had someone to take a stand with me against my boss - there was no one left that i knew, everyone had resigned or been fired and i was the oldest employee. you’d think that’d earn me something, after eight years being dedicated to the same company, right?

(shortly after, my grandma passed, after years and years of agonizing in a wheelchair. we lived together)

fuck that

the first months were fine. i was being the senior developer and teaching the junior constantly, so my boss stayed out of my way. but see, this is where he started to get ansty. the more the junior stopped being a junior and was actually useful for something, the more that piece of gigantic ass just started thinking only about our salaries. i started in that company in 2012 making little more than 3 bucks/hour (remember i live in a third world country, but it was still specialized work), but by 2019, my salary was pretty much double of what the junior was making, and every penny extra i got during those years was a CONQUEST. i also worked six hours while he worked eight, so.

my boss basically started treating me even more like shit. he wasn’t nice to be around before, but he was bearable in small amounts. suddenly it was obvious to everyone that he was really fixating on me and my performance, and to me it was obvious he just wanted me to walk away too so he could replace me with TWO junior developers instead of just one measly charlie.

then, the nationals elections began. oh boy.

this probably wouldn’t read as news to anyone, but i’m a huge leftie, obviously. if you’re at all interested in politics, read about what socialist policies have done for uruguay during the past 15 years and how they turned us into AT LEAST a developing country, but i digress.

the people that sat in my office even shared my political views or whatever, but my boss is actually part of the conservative party and started actively campaigning. every time something involving politics happened, he made a point to come barging in the office and telling me and specifically me about it like i was personally running against his party. i actually recorded him once to have proof of him at least screaming at me, so i could check if i was crazy for thinking he had something against me. he frequently called me communist and just mocked my views. if you’re wondering, yes, this is illegal, but nothing happened.

then, two big things happened at once: we lost the election, and my recently adopted puppy was diagnosed with distemper. yes, it happened on the same that and it’s a day i’ll never forget.

my girlfriend and i had talked about getting a puppy once we moved in together. we’d named him like two years before it actually happened. we moved in together on may 2019 and on september i found the most precious boy for adoption on facebook and i was innocently all like “oh i’ve had to put rescue dogs for adoption before, let’s give back!”.

on october 27th, he had a seizure and the vet told us it was likely we’d have to put him down because only 20% of dogs survived, and it was even less for puppies.

when i went to work, i had to put up with my boss laughing and mocking me for winning the election “against me”. i guess i missed my running for anything?

this post is already too long for me to get into details about my dog’s disease. for months, every day we looked after him constantly. i read everything there was to BE READ about distemper online, spent thousands of pesos on medicine and treatments just in case he had a chance. good news is he did! this is the only positive note in this post.

it still wasn’t easy. he made us cry at least three times a day. we really thought he was dying, and we’d made the mistake of naming him 2 years before he was even born. we’d taken PERFECT care of him while he was unvaccinated, but the vet told us it was most likely he was already infected before he came home to us. i’d never seen such a small puppy so sick. he hallucinated constantly. if you don’t know, distemper is a neuro/digestive/skin/bone/HELL disease that’s really nasty. he’d have seizures almost daily and poop and pee himself. he stopped being able to control his body other than his two front legs, which he didn’t even have full control of. when he stopped being able to walk, he started crying constantly, it really tore the heart out of my chest

we called another vet, a dog physical therapist, so she’d tell us how we could help him. she told us to make him stand as long as possible, so every time he had a meal, i’d bend down with him and hold his hips - so he’d be able to stand, and slowly gain back some muscle mobility. every day we massaged his legs and flexed his joints, even his tiny toes, so he’d avoid atrophy. and we did it!! as i’m writing this, he’s one year old now, he’s no longer sick even if he’ll carry with him plenty of lifelong sequels, and he walks and runs and barks like the best of them ♥ i wasn’t going to plug anything but if you wanna see his progress, it’s on instagram @hamiltonthefighter

okay, i guess i ended up talking at length about his disease in the end, sorry. his walking again had a price to pay for me: my own back. for two or three months i was bent over this dog, you know? i still can’t get out of bed without help sometimes lol around december it got really bad but i just kept popping pills because joy oh joy, i was doing my thesis and i didn’t really have time or money for anything else. my job was basically paying for our rent, my university classes including the thesis course which was ridiculously expensive, and our dog had given me credit card debt out of desperation (we even had to buy those rubber things used for yoga to place on our floors so he’d have something to use his nails against instead of constantly slipping on the floor, we tried every medication that might help, we gave him CBD oils, all kinds of vitamins, constant vet visits where during the first two weeks he got like three different shots every day, etc)

i’m rambling, and i’m sorry, but i don’t really think anyone will read this. i started this post crying my eyes out and writing about my dog at least has been calming, because even if he’s a drooling mess now, he’s still the same he ever was and i love him very much and he’s sleeping soundly next to me and he’s finally close to fine.

remember the friend i talked about like half an hour ago? the one that worked with me for six years? nothing changed between us during the first months. for my thesis, i was going to develop a videogame with Mabu, but we were allowed to have external coding help because it was about GameDev, not the actual coding. i knew how to code, obviously, but Nico (the friend, guess we’ll give him a name) was also part of our project so he was gonna help us code so i had more time to focus on art and 3D modelling. the idea was kill two birds with one stone, make something we all liked, mabu and I were going to graduate with it and then we’d keep working on it during 2020 as we’d always always talked about.

by december, even if nico and i still talked regularly, i could tell he had just moved on with his life. he’d said he’d help us, but he was doing his own thesis, so i told him not to worry at that time, our final due date was in february. he asked us to forgive him during december and promised us he’d come back in january to DEVOTE himself to the project. i started coding the project besides working on the art and i was thankfully able to meet all the deadlines, so it was really fine, of course i understood where he was coming from.

then, on january 7th, Mabu’s grandma passed away. she was scheduled for a heart surgery that supposedly only had 1% risk, and she passed on the table because of a doctor’s mistake. the surgery was here in the capital, but Mabu’s family lives five hours away. she comes from a very big, very loving family, and her grandma (being the mother of five children) was very much the center of it. i also loved her. she’d replaced my grandma the second she passed and every time i saw her she hugged me like i was a lost grandson.

when my girlfriend called me during her surgery, i immediately left work because i just knew she would be crying if things were okay. this was a nightmare come alive for a family of 20+ people, and most of them were 5 hours away from their own house. my mother in law was (and still is) devastated by the lost of her mother because she was the one to encourage the surgery and she still thinks she killed her. i drove my her, my girlfriend, her sister and her sister’s boyfriend on my mother’s in law van for five hours while they all cried or slept and i had to really, really pinch myself because i was EXHAUSTED but what else could i do?

logically i missed work the next day. LOGICALLY. i had the service to attend and i was 5 hours away from the office and i didn’t even have my own car with me. i told my boss to discount the day, since i wasn’t entitled to the mourning day by law because it wasn’t my grandma. he didn’t even reply - he almost never talked to me by this point unless it was to berate me for something. i went back to work the day after the service.

now, remember we were doing our thesis and it was due in february? it really wasn’t great timing for anyone to die, but i was trusting Nico’s promise that he’d have more free time and he’d make up for not helping us code sooner. i told him the news about Mabu’s grandma, and then basically had to tell him to say something to her for her loss because he was supposed to be her friend, what the fuck, why aren’t you at least sending her a text.

let’s just say, january wasn’t a great month for Mabu and myself. two weeks after the passing, we still hadn’t had news from Nico. Mabu didn’t even have time to properly mourn because we had to turn our thesis in like, little over a month. i wrote to nico just downright ASKING if he was gonna be able to help us or WHAT, to which he said to me...

he’d never promised anything because he was really busy with his own stuff and he didn’t want to bring it up sooner because he knew Mabu was mourning and things were hard for us at the moment?

like that’s great pal, thanks for telling me at the last POSSIBLE second you were just dropping out altogether, what the actual fuck? it still baffles me that someone can be so thick headed, but he kept saying he had made no promises and both Mabu and I knew that was a lie and i honestly just couldn’t deal with someone so selfish he couldn’t at least give a heads up sooner

the icing on the cake during the beginning of this year is someone i haven’t even mentined: MY PIECE OF SHIT BROTHER. talking about him may deserve another post, because this is already so long and convoluted and i haven’t even talked about his involvement in my misery during 2019-2020. i’ll try to make the story short if anyone’s still reading this far:

a lot of years ago, our maternal grandmother moved to uruguay from russia and bought a tiny shitty house here next to my mother’s. my mother still hasn’t talked to me since 2013 because i’m trans, but that’s neither here nor there. i tried to keep in touch with my brother (we don’t share dads so he was no relation with my side of the family), and around 2017 i finally succeeded in making friends with him. or so i thought, clearly.

that grandmother passed... sometime. i don’t really know because they cut me off. she didn’t speak to me either, she was literally a crazy old nasty woman and i didn’t even care when i heard she’d died, to be honest. she was such a nasty woman, she’d put her tiny shitty house to my and my brother’s name just to keep her own daughter out of the inheritance when she bought it.

that also meant i was inheriting something for the first time ever, even if it was shitty. BUT my brother had his own fake grandma (the woman who looked after him his whole life instead of our mother) who was very old and frail and asked me if he could house her there. i said yes because again, i didn’t give a shit about the inheritance or the house or anything regarding my mother’s side of the family (other than him obviously), so for years this woman occupied the house. my brother basically took all existing furniture and appliances because he was moving in with a girlfriend and i even loaded up my shitty car with his stuff. all i wanted to inherit was the couch set, which had come all the way from russia and everyone had promised me since i was a wee lad, but he started whining about his fake-grandma not having a living room set and nowhere to sit and i didn’t even live by myself yet so i let them have the fucking couches, too.

oh boy this is already too long but now i’m too lazy to make a separate post

anyway, sometime during 2019, the woman moved out to an old folks home because she could no longer take care of herself. i immediately asked about the couch set with hope in my heart that it could finally be mine, but my brother told me our mother didn’t want me to have it.

he wanted to rent the house to make a profit, which sounded good to me because of that dog related credit card debt i talked about. and here’s where you might think i’m not that there in the head, but all my life i didn’t want anything to do with that house until my mother was in the ground - not out of hate but because i thought it was a shitty thing her own mother had done to her, and the inheritance should have been hers. she doesn’t have a degree or a stable job because she’s a russian translator so hey, whatever, they needed it more than i did. but then my brother starting getting ideas about improving the house so we’d make more money, and how we should do it together, and... i think i might have mentioned already why i didn’t exactly have time to redo a house? i was doing my thesis? about to graduate? my boss was constantly on my case? my dog was about to die?

i helped as much as i could at first, but then december came, and then january, and my brother just kept nagging me about the house like i was purposefuly sitting on my ass doing nothing, because oh every day it’s not rented it’s money lost. no amount of explaining how stretched thin i was seemed to suffice, not even when mabu’s grandma died and nico left us hanging with the thesis and i had less than a month left to code the whole project by myself while ALSO taking care of the art.

by the end of january, i was so stressed, i called a doctor after a panic attack. he gave me a weeks rest because of my back, because i wasn’t even able to get up without help at that time. it wasn’t much of a rest because i still used that time to sit at the computer and code 15 hours a day at LEAST, but hey.

it was the first time in 8 years i’d taken medical leave of ANY kind. i didn’t even get medical leave when i got my chest surgery. it happened on a friday and i was back to work the next monday. i’d never skipped more than 2 days of work at best when i had a bad case of the flu or something, but that was it.

when i went back to work, my boss immediatelly called me to his office. he started berating me about my performance again, bringing graphs comparing the amount of lines of code i’d written next to my coworkers. i didn’t mention this, but the graphic designer had also quit during 2019, so i was also covering that workload and no, that didn’t exactly translate to lines of code. i also had to spend HOURS every day tutoring the junior because he was too much of a cheap shit (didn’t use those words) to hire an experienced developer. i’d even WORKED AS A GRAPHIC DESIGNER FOR MEDIA CONTENT FOR HIS POLITICAL CAREER, EVEN IF IT WAS AGAINST MY BELIEFS AND NOT AT ALL RELATED TO MY JOB. he denied everything. EVERYTHING. he stuck to the narrative that i was just lazy and the proof was i’d just taken AN ENTIRE WEEK because “my back just hurt a little” and i had the audacity to skip work for someone else’s grandmother dying

i’m not exaggerating, i swear to anyone who might be reading this. that day was brutal and i’m still not over it half a year later, i don’t care if that makes me sound like a wuss. i worked eight years of my life in this fucking place.

this argument lasted for hours, but i kept my head down because i couldn’t afford to lose the job, specially not then. i even apologized for any loss in performance and tried to explain my point of view and what i was going through (which i’d already done to another superior weeks ago anyway). but just when i thought i’d MAYBE be able to keep my head above water, he told me he was denying my the request i’d made to take two weeks of holiday days before the thesis final due date.

i had already explained everything to him. everything, even nico dropping the team and my having to do everything by myself. i broke down and i told him he was forcing me to leave my job, i’d just have been certified by a doctor and i was asking for leave for SCHOOL (all things that are protected by law here), but he just kept repeating i could either walk away from my job or show up during those two weeks. he just wanted me gone, but he couldn’t fire me right away without having to pay me THOUSANDS because of my seniority (by law). he knew what he was doing to me and he didn’t care about it. he didn’t even let me TOUCH MY COMPUTER, he told me he wasn’t the one pushing me away, that i was doing this to myself, and he’d ask for a lawyer to check my computer for any “inconsistencies in my activity”, even. i really have a hard time just thinking about that day and how utterly humilliating it was. i lost a lot of personal files, because i sat at that desk for eight years and of course i had personal files because sometimes i stayed after hours before going to class.

imagine for a second a sixty year old man, rich as shit, political candidate, standing in front of a computer, disconnecting the mouse and keyboard so i couldn’t touch it, yelling at me i was doing this to myself and i was losing my job because i had the audacity to ask for two weeks leave to finish my fucking school thesis.

and yeah, i lawyered up. i didn’t have actual money to AFFORD a lawyer, but mabu’s cousin’s girlfriend was a lawyer and lived one block away and i immediatelly told her everything there was to tell. she brought me to the firm she worked in and they guaranteed me i had a pretty strong case and i was at least gonna be able to walk away with something.

that put things in hold for a while because the “trial” or whatever wasn’t gonna be held until after the thesis, so i tried to forget about it. my boss even owed me my untaken paid vacation days, which i told the lawyers because i was pretty sure he’d just forgot, but i wanted to know if it made a better case against him. they agreed, and i left it at that.

but you know who was still making my life miserable even when february began and i had less than three weeks to finish our project right? MY SWEET BABY BRO. he was constantly nagging me about having to do all the work himself, like I’D ASKED ANYTHING FROM THAT HOUSE TO BEGIN WITH. but see, the nastier he started getting, the more apparent his lies began to appear. he got nasty to the level where ON THE DAY I WAS TURNING THE PROJECT IN he kept calling me demanding MONEY for stuff he’d paid for the house without checking in with me. i was honestly baffled by his level of selfishness, i was already sleeping three hours a day tops and he expected me to what, paint walls? he was FIERCELY against having to wait for my project to be done even if it was two weeks away and he was asking and asking for money when i’d just told him i’d lost my job without a penny to show for it. nice guy, really.

suddenly, the following lies became clear:

my mother didn’t care if i took the couch set, he told me that because he was moving again and he was planning on taking the couches himself. (he ended up doing just so, too). he lied to me with the thing that hurts me most in the world: my mother hating me. he had even made a joke about it, because my mother had bought a new couch not long ago, and he didn’t “get” why she “didn’t want me to have anything”

years ago he’d told me he had refinanced a tax debt the house had, and i gave him money for it. now that the house was about to be put up for rent, he pretended that had never happened and suddenly started talking about how we needed to take care of that

he wasn’t planning on splitting the rent three ways between him, our mother and i. he was gonna keep two thirds, and i later even found out my own mother had given him the idea.

then poor mabu confessed to me once, two years ago, she’d wore a skirt one time visiting my brother and his then girlfriend, and he had told her nasty stuff to her year upon saying goodbye and she had never said anything because didn’t want to hurt our sibling relationship

talk about final nail huh?

i confronted him and he denied everything, obviously, he instantly played the victim card, how dare i think that way about him, how dare i break his dreams of reuniting the family again. he said things to me i’ll also never forget like, apparently, it shows that i’m a shit person because i have no friends and no one wants me around, unlike him that has so many. he told me i thought the world owed me when i was shit and i believed anything anyone told me before believing him. no one told me any of his lies, i caught them all by myself, but whatever. he cursed me and told me he never wanted anything to do with me because i was rotten and i only cared about money and i was so so selfish. this must have been around march and i still don’t know anything from him, or care.

what do i have to do for that side of the family to leave me alone, i wonder? all i ever wanted to do was be his friend

the “trial” against my boss came and suddenly every lawyer that worked at that firm was taking a fucking holiday except for the one that was supposedly leading my case - except suddenly, i didn’t have much of a case at all. i walked away with less than 2 thousand dollars and that was WITH the vacation days i hadn’t taken. the agreement was the lawyers were gonna keep 25% of however much i made but THAT vacation money wasn’t supposed to count because it didn’t come out of the “trial” thing, you know?

well, it did. the lawyer screwed me over too. but hey, at least he’d gotten me unemployment for a couple of months (you only apply for unemployment if you’re fired, not if you walk away from a job, and my having been fired or not was what was being contested), i still tried to be optimistic, i had a few months to figure things out while i looked for another job, and at least i was able to finish paying for school with that money.

yeah, this was late february, beginning of march. joke’s on me for being optimistic at all

my own brother plotting with my own mother against me has done a number for my mental health. i already had baggage aplenty, like every trans dude or girl whose parents would rather see them dead than be a dyke/fag (my mother’s own words, ladies and gents)

my boss of eight years kicking me to the curve at the worst moment in my life in the most humilliating of ways while blaming me for it has left me feeling so worthless to people in general. i’m getting better with time, i think, but i’m still all not there. i have a really hard time thinking my work is worth anything at all.

i keep thinking my brother was right, and i’m a shitty friend, and i don’t deserve anyone around. my only real friend at the moment is my girlfriend, which makes it really hard to have any arguments because i start feeling like my life is ending because she’s pretty much all i have left and she’s the most important thing in the world to me because i wouldn’t have survived all this shit i’m writing without her by my side. i would walk to hell and back for her. but nico also left me behind without a second thought, after telling me i was like a brother to him, no matter how many times i invited him to hang out or anything to keep in touch. i’ve been a shitty friend to a lot of people, but not him, and he still didn’t care about me at all, so i just stopped trying.

but now social distancing has got me all fucked up. i can’t trust people. i can’t go outside. everything is scary to me, i have at least two or three panic attacks per WEEK and they get nastier and longer every time. i know i need help, but i can’t even afford rent, let alone therapy. Uruguay has the worst unemployment rates since 2006 now thanks to our baby-Trump right now. i look for jobs daily even if the notion of having a job even SIMILAR to the one i had before gives me the shakes. programming isn’t as hard as some people may think, but the workplaces are usually VERY toxic because you’re valued by the amount of lines of code you write, and i’m so so tired. i’m still looking because I NEED. TO. PAY. RENT. but not because it’s something i want in life, at all. i’d much rather be poor and just do freelance work instead, but i’m failing.

i thank the people that have helped me or commissioned me these past few months from the bottom of my heart. i’m sorry i’m not more active, i’m sorry i’m still rusty and can’t draw faster, i’m sorry i sometimes spend half a day crying my eyes out because i just don’t know how to move forward. i have a week left, i still haven’t made enough for rent, let alone the bills or food. mabu used to get plenty of art commissions on etsy, but she hasn’t sold anything since march either and she’s younger than me so our financial struggles have an even deeper impact on her

i’m just so, so tired. i’m lucky to have mabu, and that is about it. i honestly don’t think i could have survived this year without her. for months the future has looked like a black screen to me. i can’t even trust the vegetable market in front of my fucking house because some piece of shit spread the rumor that i’m trans and now i can’t even open the door to my front house without getting stares sometimes, it’s ridiculous. i wish i could trust more than one person in the world so that everything wasn’t on her shoulders.

i’m not okay. we’re not okay.

that’s about it. i’m sorry i can’t end this on a more positive note. at least we graduated with an excellent score. not that we had a graduation, obviously. thanks corona.

thank you for reading if you read this far ♥

#this is literally 5k+ words of how my life went to shit :)#trying to write down feelings like i used to do seven years ago when i was transitioning because i have no other outlets #sorry new followers #(sorry old followers)

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

pattonella part 9: virgil sweetheart PLEASE learn how to read the room i’m begging you

cw: mentions of injury, mentions of death, nightmare, anxiety attack, mild angst

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // read it on ao3!!

“can i please be cleared to read books on my own now?” logan says. “because i love the sound of virgil’s voice, but i’m sure he has better things to be doing than sitting here reading to me at all hours.”

“shut up, there’s nowhere i’d rather be,” virgil says. he flushes immediately, but logan just smiles and reaches for his hand. remy rolls his eyes and peers into logan’s eye.

“you were nearly killed by a horse, prince logan, i think you can afford to relax just a little.” logan huffs, sounding very much like a small child, and virgil smiles. “still, it’s been about a week . . . i suppose i can clear you. but no strenuous activity, and the second you start feeling any pain or discomfort or anything out of the ordinary you come and tell me, you understand?”

“crystal clear,” logan says, sitting up a little too fast and wincing. remy glares suspiciously at him, but doesn’t offer any additional commentary. “i am looking forward to the ability to walk around without you two constantly hovering over me as though i am made of spun glass.”

“maybe if you would stop running into danger,” remy mutters. he reaches out and ruffles logan’s hair softly, and the prince doesn’t immediately bat his hand away. “i’m still sending healing potions with your meals, and you will drink them all.”

“yes, mother,” logan huffs playfully. remy rolls his eyes again and flounces out of the room. virgil has never seen a real human flounce before, but there truly is no other word to describe what remy is doing.

“i bet you’re happy to be off bed rest,” virgil says.

“ecstatic,” logan sighs. virgil stifles a yawn behind his fist, but logan immediately picks up on it. “what was that?”

“uh . . . a yawn?”

“why are you yawning? has your sleep not been optimal?”

“not really . . .”

“why has it been -” logan’s eyes widen in recognition, and he frowns. “oh . . . i - i apologize, virgil.”

“why?”

“you have been awake because you were taking care of me. you have been foregoing sleep and tending to your own health because you have been so concerned for mine. i am so sorry, virgil, i did not mean to make you think that you had to -”

“shut up,” virgil interrupts. “you honestly think i would have been doing that shit if i didn’t care about you? if i didn’t give a fuck i would have fucked off and let someone else do it. i lo - i - um - i care about you a lot.”

logan looks at him, hair adorably ruffled, eyes wide and pretty, face flushed pink from being buried under mountains of thick, warm blankets in the sunshine, and virgil immediately shoves a pillow into logan’s face to cover his massive blush. “shut up!”

logan laughs softly, putting the pillow on the floor, and reaches out to take virgil’s hand. virgil huffs irritably, but he lets logan take it. “come and lay down, virgil. you are clearly exhausted. you must rest. you have dedicated your entire life this past week or so to caring for me, and that cannot be easy.”

“it’s not work,” virgil says, remembering an old sappy book he’d read once. “not to me. not if it is you.”

“i know,” logan says softly, “but you are tired. sleep, my dear. please? for me?”

logan gently tugs on virgil’s hand, virtually no force behind it, and virgil topples onto the bed. he shuffles around, keeping his face pushed into the duvet, and manages to settle laying on his side, staring into logan’s eyes. this close, he can see all the freckles that cluster around logan’s nose and eyes.

“you have stars on your ceiling,” virgil says, “and they’re on your face, too.” logan’s face turns a little pinker, and he smiles, reaching up to tuck a curl behind virgil’s ear.

“you’re not sleeping,” he says.

“how can i sleep when i’m looking at you?” virgil says. he bites his lip immediately, he can’t believe he said something so sappy and gay to the prince, but logan smiles and gently drags his thumb across virgil’s mouth.

“don’t bite your lips,” he murmurs. “they’re so soft. i love to kiss them.” he leans forward and gently pushes his mouth against virgil’s, and virgil closes his eyes and exhales into the kiss.

“here,” logan hums, carding his hand through virgil’s hair. virgil snuggles up to his chest, draping an arm over logan’s hips as he slots his legs in between his. “when i was small, before -” his chest hitches slightly under virgil’s ear. “- before my mother died, she would sing to me, and thomas used to sing it for roman and i. perhaps it will help you. i can put no magic in my voice, but i can sing.”

“whatever you want,” virgil murmurs. “i’m sure your voice is beautiful.”

logan takes a few deep breaths, inhales, and begins to sing. “A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan . . .”

virgil is so taken with the beauty of logan’s rich voice that he isn’t sure how he manages to fall asleep at all.

*~*~*~*~*

everything is black, and suddenly remy appears, shining a small light into logan’s eyes to assess the severity of his concussion. past.

everything is black, and suddenly logan appears, stroking his hand through virgil’s hair, mouth open, eyes half-shut as he sings. present.

everything is black, and suddenly roman appears, sword raised in front of his chest, blocking one, two, three blows before an arrow pierces his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, his neck.

future.

*~*~*~*~*

logan is half-asleep when virgil bolts upright, eyes flaring purple, screaming. “virgil -”

“something is wrong, something is wrong with roman!” virgil shrieks, voice warped and distorted and strange. logan feels his heart turn to ice and drop into his stomach.

“what is wrong with my brother?”

“i had a vision, he was fighting, he got pierced by arrows and he went down and something is going W R O N G logan!”

before logan can stop him, virgil is on his feet, scrambling out of bed so fast he almost faceplants onto the ground. he’s out the door before logan can stop him, but he’s on his feet almost immediately to chase him.

*~*~*~*~*

“are you sure this is a good idea?” claire says. her hands are clasped behind her back as she studies the map roman has spread out on the table. it’s covered in red x’s and dotted lines, surrounded with candles, with a dagger sticking out of a particular clump of trees.

“we know that’s where they’re hiding,” roman says. “they won’t attack this village as long as we’re here, they’ll wait until we decide to ‘abandon’ these people and then they’ll raze it to the ground. we have to strike at the root of this issue, and that means attacking their hideout. we ride at dawn.”

“prince roman,” claire says, “you know that i am your most loyal advisor. i would request permission to speak freely.”

“granted, claire, always granted.”

“prince roman, i think this is foolish. they let us find that base easily, too easily. i suspect it is a trap.”

“they’re probably setting one,” roman sighs, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair. “but what do you want me to do? not attack? we know that they’re there, we know that they’re planning something!”

“wait a day or two,” claire says. “take some time to plan a strategy. send a scout to see if there are any obvious traps that we can plan for. we have to play this smart so that we don’t end up losing soldiers.”

“so we don’t end up losing me, you mean.”

“you are the prince of our kingdom, prince roman. you have two brothers waiting for you at home, not to mention the newly-discovered lord sanders. we cannot risk bringing you home as a corpse.”

“you don’t have to coddle me, claire, i’m not made of glass!”

“i never suggested as much, prince roman,” claire says coolly. “i am merely reiterating that you should remember that you cannot throw yourself recklessly into danger with no consideration of those waiting for you at home. i will leave you to your thoughts. should you choose to march in the morning, we will of course support you, but i suggest you reconsider this plan.”

she ducks out of the tent, and roman sighs, running his fingers over the depiction of the sanders manor in the corner of the map. “patton . . . i want to come home to you . . . but i have to free these people. how do i balance this?”

he pulls the dagger out of the map and twirls it around in his hands. he has a lot of thinking to do.

*~*~*~*~*

“i’m not sure this is okay for me to do,” thomas says, looking hesitantly at the dais. the king’s throne stands tall and regal, with the queen’s throne smaller but no less regal beside it.

“you are the crown prince,” joan, the advisor beside him, says. “it is your right.” they hold out a small velvet pillow with the circlet of the crown prince resting on it, opal gleaming rainbow in the morning sunlight.

“i’m not the crown prince,” thomas protests. “roman and logan aren’t married yet, i can’t legally be named the crown prince, and i’m not allowed to wear that or - or sit on the throne, or do any of this!”

joan sets the crown on the dais and reaches out to gently take his hand. “prince thomas . . .”

“dad is still alive,” thomas says, eyes watering. “he’s weak, and he’s sick, but he’s not dead yet, i’m not - i don’t have to replace him yet . . .”

“i’m sorry, prince thomas,” joan murmurs. “i didn’t realize that it would affect you like that, i -”

“it’s not your fault,” thomas sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “i know you guys don’t think about it like that, but - but it’s my dad, you know? i know the kingdom is going to lose its leader soon, but - but i’m gonna lose my dad, you know?”

joan nods, squeezing his hand and offering a handkerchief from their pocket. thomas takes it, dabbing at his face. “thank you, joan.”

“of course, prince thomas. you can stand on the dais if you want, since you still have to receive -”

the door to the throne room slams open, wood ringing against stone, and thomas whirls around. before he can even reach for the hidden dagger he carries on his person always, before joan can step in front of him, virgil is speeding across the room. there are two guards behind him, trying to catch him, but virgil is outpacing them rapidly.

“virgil?”

once he gets closer, thomas gasps, taking in details. his hair is unkempt, his clothes are askew, and his eyes are glowing solid purple. “crown prince thomas,” he says, and thomas winces at the distortion of his voice. “i have had a vision that must be brought to your attention immediately.”

“you can see the future?” joan gasps.

“what did you see?” thomas asks.

“prince roman is in danger,” virgil says. “there will be an attack, and he will be killed by arrows. we must aid him immediately.”

there’s a watery noise from behind virgil, and he spins around to see patton standing behind him pressing his hands over his mouth. “roman - roman is going to die?”

the purple in his eyes flickers away. “wh - patty?”

“roman is going to die?” patton repeats, hurrying forward and grabbing virgil’s hands.

“not necessarily,” virgil says, putting a hand to his head and beginning to sag forward against patton. “i - the vision showed him dying, but it also showed that giant horse killing logan a week or so ago, and he’s still alive.”

“we have a chance to stop it?” thomas says. virgil turns to look at him.

“i - yes, your highness, i think there is a chance to save him.”

thomas nods. “are you sufficiently prepared to travel?”

“i can be in an hour at the least.”

“good. take a party of guards and go after roman.”

“i’m coming too,” logan says, striding through the doors. “remy cleared me from my concussion earlier, i’m going.”

“me too!” patton says. “i’m going with you, if roman is in trouble i have to help!”

“i can’t risk you both,” thomas starts, but logan glares at him.

“are you telling me that if father was well and running the kingdom, you wouldn’t be grabbing a sword and riding after him?” thomas winces, and logan lifts his chin victoriously. “exactly. i am going with virgil, and so is patton. roman is worth the risk.”

thomas exhales. “go and pack, then. meet me here in an hour with a plan.” logan nods, whirls around, and hurries out of the room with virgil and patton on his heels. thomas hums, turning to joan. “i need you to bring me a specific volume of the history of the kingdom from the library.”

“of course, your highness. may i ask what for?”

“i think i just found logan’s loophole.”

#starshinewrites #pattonella!au #analogical #royality #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace. “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed, giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

7 notes · View notes

theres-a-goldensky · 4 years

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32 Reddie Fic Recs

In honor of the joy I feel in finally getting out of this miserably terrible fucking year of my life, I thought I’d do something fun and make up a list of Reddie fic recs, since this has fandom has taken over my life recently. Strap in, friends. This is gonna be a long one.

These recs are in the order in which I read them.

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part two - Reddie

Good Omens fic

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All fics are Reddie, all are complete.

** - denotes personal favorite

1. first love / late spring by vowelinthug - ~36,000 words, explicit - They both survive It, but not without some injuries, both physical and psychological. Richie takes Eddie to a secluded cabin to help him recover. And then they accidentally make a podcast. Nice slowburn, a good Richie characterization. I liked the conversations between the two of them, in particular one about Richie’s disdain for shoes that was pitch perfect.

The doctor’s evil eye is on both of them now. “Your friend is gonna be fine. Broken collarbone and a lot of blood loss, but the arm stays on, for now anyway.” Probably at the way Richie sags in relief so hard he groans in pain, the doctor stops looking so severe. “He’s a tough guy. I’ve never seen anyone regain consciousness from that much blood loss just to give me a full medical history.”

“Oh my god,” says Richie, covering his mouth. “I like him so much.”

Bill pats his shoulder in sympathy.

2. the fireworks that go off when you smile by zach_stone - ~10,000 words, teen - Post-movie the adult Losers, including Stan, go on a vacation together. There’s just lots of Richie staring at a wet, shirtless Eddie and pining.

Richie blinks at him, his stomach doing a fucking somersault, pinned under Eddie’s weirdly passionate stare. He swallows another mouthful of beer to stall for time, shifting his gaze away. Spread out before him, the lake looks like flat, black glass. “Jeez, is the risk analyst really telling me to ignore the risks? What’s the world coming to?” he manages to joke.

He expects Eddie to roll his eyes, to huff and lean away again, but he doesn’t. He says, still earnest, “I just think some things are worth the risk.”

And Richie doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that. He resolutely tells himself not to puke on Ben and Beverly’s porch, because he thinks if he did it would just be the words I love Eddie Kaspbrak a hundred times over, all puddled on the slats of wood. He stands up rather abruptly. “I should go to bed,” he says, aware that he’s talking too loud, being too fucking obvious. “I’m jetlagged as fuck. Also maybe a little drunk.”

3. oh, i want the truth to be known by ShowMeAHero - ~7000 words, explicit - Richie sees Eddie die in the deadlights and then manages to save him at the last second, but It skewers him instead. I’m honestly not sure why there isn’t more fic with this premise, because Richie sacrificing his own safety for Eddie and then Eddie losing his shit is absolutely, 100% my jam.

The claw isn’t in Eddie’s chest. Instead, it’s in Richie’s, caught in his side, pinning him to the ground. He chokes on a scream, caught in his throat, and pushes at Eddie, just trying to get them away. He rolls into him, ripping Pennywise’s claw through his side to get away, but once he’s free, he’s scrambling into a half-stumble and dragging Eddie with him until they’re hidden under an outcropping of rock. His side is bleeding, he can feel it, and his entire fucking abdomen hurts, and, for a moment, it’s all he can process.

“Holy shit, Richie,” Eddie exclaims. The pain shuffles to the back of Richie’s mind so he can focus on Eddie instead. He sounds winded, but he’s fucking alive, unhurt and breathing and okay, and Richie huffs a laugh. He’s in so much fucking pain, but he can’t even figure out where it’s all originating from, and the only thought cycling through his brain is it’s okay, he’s okay, Eddie’s okay, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, over and over.

4. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright) by buckyjerkbarnes - ~9,000 words, teen - Richie and the other Losers in the hospital after killing It, waiting for news on Eddie. Richie has a bit of a breakdown.

The ambulance ride had been the longest twenty minutes of Richie’s life. He'd tried not to get in the way of the EMTs who worked frantically to keep Eddie alive; who were far more patient with him than Richie likely deserved. By the time they'd rolled up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, Ben stamping his breaks as the rest of the Losers came to a grinding halt not fifteen yards away, Richie was still a sobbing mess. He couldn't see through the cracked lens of his glasses, and when Eddie, who had not opened his eyes or said a word since they were still in the sewers, was about to be wheeled out of sight, Richie made like a battering ram and lunged towards the pair of swinging doors.

“Sir!" An orderly yelped. "You can’t—!"

And Stan, who had materialized at Richie's elbow, told the orderly: "He's the husband."

5. ** It’s Hard to Tell Sometimes by gallopingmelancholia - ~21,000 words, explicit - Eddie divorces his wife and moves to LA to live with Richie. Richie promptly has like five emotional meltdowns over it. So much pining. So much. This is one of very few that has Eddie in the hospital for a realistic amount of time, which I appreciate. When writers have been hoping out of bed after a day or whatever, it really throws me out of the story.

“When can we see him?” Mike asks.

“He’s asleep, but we’ll send in a nurse when he wakes up. I wouldn’t expect it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He’s been through quite a lot, eleven hours of surgery, and is on a lot of pain medication.”

“Will he survive? What’s the percentage? He’ll want to know the probability, he’s a risk analyst,” Richie says.

The doctor hesitates. “The chances he makes it through the night are 65%.”

“That’s not bad!” Richie says even as his heart drops to somewhere in the region of his feet. The others look at him pitifully. “Tell him we’re here and we love him. Tell him the Losers are here and we’ll see him soon.”

6. ** it’s a nice day to start again by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~6000 words, teen - Post-movie, Eddie wakes up one morning to discover that Richie and a woman had a shotgun wedding in Vegas the night before. Great, sad-but-trying-not-to-show-it Eddie here. (And yes, Richie is a total disaster gay who marries a woman on a whim.)

“Are you sitting down?”

“I didn’t even get out of bed yet! Bev please just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Just- Richie got married.”

“What? No he didn’t,” Eddie scoffs, throwing the covers off. “I’m not - he’s not even dating anybody, I see him all the time. It’s probably just a big joke or something, that’s-”

“He got married, in Vegas. It’s all over Twitter, and he- he sent pictures to the group chat last night. She’s some other comedian. None of us have ever met her, he didn’t invite any of us.”

7. Oh, But He Makes You Laugh by MellytheHun - ~9,000 words, mature - Teenage Eddie has to deal with some serious jealousy when a new friend enters their group. This one has a good, slow realization on Eddie’s part.

The boy is in their grade, though not part of their social sphere; he’s nearly as tall as Richie, with light eyes, and walnut colored hair. Eddie recognizes him from his AP bio class, but can’t inwardly recall his name.

The boy nods toward Stanley while keeping eye-contact with Richie, and informs him, “alligators - they can grow up to twenty feet.”

Richie opens his mouth to argue with the new kid, but he’s cut off.

“Which is weird, cause they usually only grow four.”

Eddie watches in abject bewilderment as a hearty, genuine laugh is startled out of Richie.

8. Richie Tozier: Pray Away the Gay by QueerOnTilMorning - ~4,500 words, teen - The official transcript of Richie Tozier’s comeback Netflix special. A lot of writers try to do Richie’s stand-up routine, but not many can nail it. This one feels realistic and contains actual, like, jokes and stuff.

Because I grew up in this little town called Derry, Maine--nope, absolutely not, do not cheer for that. Fuck Derry! I had this friend, for years he thought I was lactose intolerant, because he'd mention dairy and I'd be like "fuck Derry! Derry tried to fucking kill me!" No, I can eat cheese, I just hate my hometown. They did not fuck with the gays, in Derry. That's probably why I dress so shitty. It's a survival thing. I was already super into dudes. If I had developed fashion sense on top of that? No. Oh my God. It was so--I was so fucking scared all the time.

And like, to put this in perspective, has anyone ever heard of Henry Bowers? Any true crime fans in the house? Henry Bowers, the baby serial killer? Yeah, you listened to that podcast! My friend Bill was on that podcast, doesn't he have a sexy voice? Anyway, Henry Bowers, also known very creatively as The Derry Killer, murdered a bunch of kids the summer we were thirteen. I say we, because that dude was in my fucking class. There was an active serial killer in Derry during my childhood and still, still my greatest fear was that someone would find out I was gay.

9. RICHIE TOZIER IS...THE COMEBACK CLOWN by owlinaminor & tinypersonhotel - ~11,500, teen - An excellent multimedia fic about Richie’s life with Eddie post-movie.

While Richie Tozier never stops talking, Eddie Kaspbrak never stops moving. Listening to a conversation between the two men is akin to watching a pinball machine with two balls going at once, slamming into each other and the walls and the levers and each other, lighting up their surroundings in a trance as mesmerizing as it is chaotic. (Kaspbrack laughed when I told him this metaphor—apparently Tozier spent many an afternoon at the town arcade when they were kids.)

Over the course of one twenty-minute walk with their dog, a beagle named Stanley, through their L.A. neighborhood, they manage to call off their engagement, call it back on, invite me, uninvite me, call the engagement off again, debate eloping, call the whole thing back on but disinvite everyone except me, and finally agree on what color napkins to have at the reception.

10. ** The Jenga Dream Date by stitchy - ~15,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie domestic fluff that starts at Ben and Bev’s wedding. It feels so sweet, and you can just see the happiness radiating off the screen. This is truly the ending they deserve.

Then a seriously, unbearably cute thought occurs to Richie. A thought he can’t immediately share with Eddie, because Bill and Mike each independently cornered him and made him swear not to steal Bev and Ben’s thunder.

Ah, fuck it.

“I can’t think why we would possibly be in another situation in the near future where there’s dancing but also my mother is there for some reason, but holy shit, Eds! I have got to see you dance with Mom. During this very special situation. For which I will make hand calligraphed invitations and hire a photographer and-”

Eddie’s eyes dart in either direction before he lets out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. “Uhhh, I also have no idea when or why that would happen, or what sort of event that would be appropriate for.”

11. Bad Parts In by 50artists - ~9,000 words, not rated - It’s Richie that ends up in the hospital after it all goes down, and Eddie who has the crisis. And also some serious misapprehensions.

"I feel like Richie might be slightly weirded out," Eddie says dryly. "Like oh, hey, we've not spoken for decades and you're the straightest man I know, but it turns out I have been subconsciously in love with you since we were teenagers. I dunno, might make things a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry," says Beverly, "just to clarify, Richie Tozier is the straightest man you know?"

"Dude, have you seen his comedy? It's all, 'I love fucking chicks while drinking beer and watching football'."

"You mean the material that Richie doesn't write himself?'

12. ** We Found Love in a Chili’s ToGo by Amuly - ~14,000, explicit - Richie confesses his feelings to Eddie in the airport before they both headed back to their own lives. This is such a lovely story about friendship and love and putting yourself back together. And there’s some A+++ phone sex.

“Nah, Eds. It’s because I had a big gay crush and needed Stan to bitch at about it.”

Eddie frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t bitch at me about it.”

“Well bitching about your secret crush to your secret crush is generally frowned upon, Eds. Kinda fucks up the ‘secret’ part.”

Eddie, bless his tiny heart, didn’t get it for a second. His expression scrunched up, about to say something stupid back to Richie, when his brain processed Richie’s words. In a second his expression fell open, jaw actually agape.

“Oh look: drinks!” Richie grabbed his marg, licking and drinking without even letting the waitress set it down onto the tabletop. Eddie barely had the courtesy left to let her set his down before he was grabbing at it.

13. ** Ask Me About My New Material by twoseas - ~7,000 words, explicit - I could read 10,000 stories about a confused and horny Eddie jerking it to Richie’s stand up without understanding why before they meet again in Derry. This one has a great Richie, who reacts like he got hit in the face with a bat when the truth comes out.

In the restaurant, as the gong resounded around them, Eddie looked up at a four-eyed, messy, middle aged Trashmouth and suddenly it all clicked.

He had two thoughts.

Oh, he realized, it’s because I’m in love with the dumbass.

And, Aw fuck.

14. No Parenthesis by pineapplecrushface - 13,000 words, explicit - In the deadlights, Stan gives Richie some instructions on how to bring him back. Spoilers: it involves an orgy. And Richie and Eddie dealing with their feelings.

“Okay,” Mike said, holding his hands out to placate him, and honestly Richie was really fucking sick of Mike saying crazy shit and then somehow—somehow!—convincing them to do it anyway. “I’m not saying we have to do it. I’m just saying, the ritual exists and we could do it, and now that it’s out there, I feel like you should all have the choice.”

“Great. I choose no. I’m fucking leaving before I get ritualed into giving all my money to a cult leader and I end up spending the rest of my sad short life on an alpaca farm,” Richie said, standing up too fast and stalking across the room.

“Richie,” Bev said, and she sounded, unbelievably, like she was not thinking this was completely insane.

“Are you fucking serious?” He whirled around to look at them. They were all giving him varying levels of Richie, be reasonable, which was a look he was familiar with, but not when it came to sex rituals, for some fucking reason.

15. ** Stupid Deep series by anonymous - ~50,000 words, explicit - Richie has a huge dick, and Eddie is obsessed with it. Come for the super, super hot sex, stay for the sweet romance, twist of angst and happy ending.

It’s been five months since then, and Eddie has spent at least 40% of that time thinking about Richie’s big fucking dick. He spends about 20% working from home, 20% arguing with Richie about dumb shit, and the remaining 30% sleeping—this adds up to 110%, but that’s because there’s overlap between the sleeping and the thinking about Richie’s huge dick in the form of extremely graphic dreams.

He thinks about Richie’s dick in the shower. He thinks about Richie’s dick when they’re watching TV together. He thinks about Richie’s dick when he’s trying to eat breakfast. He hasn’t even seen it hard. But god, he thinks about it. Thinks about it hot and thick in his hand, thinks about it twitching as Eddie strokes it, thinks about it stretching his lips, thinks about it leaking precum all over Eddie’s fingers and tongue and stomach. And, most importantly—most vividly—he thinks about Richie’s dick inside of him, filling him up, fucking him.

At the same time, Eddie also spent a good amount of time, woven through the rest of his daily activities, falling so deeply in love with his best-friend-cum-roommate that it was disturbing at best. There was pining. There were lingering glances. There was lying on Richie’s bed while he was out just to ease the ache in his chest with Richie’s warm, familiar scent, which is disgusting and Eddie hates to think about it. There were, in Eddie’s darkest moments, daydreams about Richie holding his hand and kissing him and telling Eddie he’s in love with him. Like a fucking sap.

16. I’m quite alright hiding today by remusjohn - ~7,000 words, explicit - Eddie kisses Richie out of the deadlights, but Richie doesn’t know if that means anything.

On the first night they don’t do much of anything. They unpack (well, Eddie unpacks his massive bags while Richie tries to figure out how to sign in to his Netflix account on the tiny TV in the living room), and they order in, and they argue over what to watch while they’re eating, and Eddie falls asleep some hours later with his head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, and Richie tries not to think too much of it.

There’s been a lot of that, the last couple of days. Richie doesn’t know how to say, You kissed me to wake me up from the deadlights and I don’t know if you did it to save my life or if there’s something else too, but it’s kind of killing me, man.

So Richie doesn’t say anything at all.

17. Haunt Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Vulcanodon - ~20,000 words, explicit - AU where Eddie and Richie are ghost hunters who get stuck in a very trippy haunted house. This concept really shouldn’t work, and I’m not big on AUs in the fandom, but the relationship between the two of them really sells it. And, obviously, the pining. There’s so much.

The only time Eddie has ever witnessed Richie freaking out was when they had been fucking about in the woods near Montana for their werewolf episode. Eddie had been walking backwards, trying to get Richie and a creepy footprint in frame when he had suddenly felt nothing but air behind him. He had fallen for an impressively long time down the hill, blacking out briefly when a branch caught his head and when he came to Richie had been leaning over him, white and frantic, hands all fisted up in Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Richie had said, nearly crying. Are you alright, can you talk?

Is my camera broken? Eddie had managed woozily to say, and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie might do something crazy like slap him or even kiss him.

He hadn’t done either in the end and Eddie remembers the disappointment, even with the haze of a mild concussion.

18. Five Times The Losers Gave Richie Permission by toomuchrootbeer - ~11,000 words, mature - Each loser tries to let Richie know that they know in their own special way.

“No I don’t mind,” Stan says evenly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t mind any of it.”

“Cool,” Richie chirps, grabbing his backpack off of the grass and pushing himself to his feet. “Pip pip Edward,” he calls. “Shall we endeavor to find you a cleaner wardrobe?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says back, but there is no venom behind his words.

But then Stan is reaching out, gripping Richie’s arm, “Dude what are you-”

“I don’t mind any of it, Tozier,” he repeats, voice lower and his words somehow more weighty, fixing Richie with an indecipherable look. “And I don’t think any of the other Losers would mind it either. If you wanted to,” he jerks his head in the direction of Eddie, “you know.”

19. String Theory by neverfaraway - ~17,000 words, mature - Richie starts slowly regaining his memories and has a disturbing experience in the deadlights.

The thing is, Richie knows this is a version of himself and Eddie that never existed. He can taste the pretence on the tip of his tongue, but the sticky air seems to sharpen and solidify around him. He can’t remember where he was before this moment, watching his fingers alight on the buckle of Eddie’s hundred-dollar belt.

The Voice wavers and Richie comes pouring through the cracks. It's painful to watch the careful way he places his hands on Eddie’s skin. "Fuck, I missed you," he says. "Even when I couldn't remember, I had a hole right through me, straight through the middle. You left a fucking entry and exit wound."

"Damnit, Richie," Eddie mutters, blinking rapidly. "Beep, beep."

20. hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~25,000 words, mature - Things don’t magically work out after Derry for Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he goes back to Myra and his depressig life. But at least now he has his friends. He has Richie.

With his memories back now, with all the knowledge of his mother and his placebos and his fake inhaler and his friends, it feels like Eddie has been living the last 27 years in sickly, yellow sepia tones. His memories and even the brief time he spent with everyone at the Chinese restaurant shine in his mind in vivid technicolor, and everything else pales in comparison.

He thought he would die, and now he doesn’t have a plan. His life in New York is miserable and cramped and leaves him feeling small, so he puts it off as long as he can.

The drive isn’t long, even with Eddie taking his time. He takes a detour just to drive along the coast and see the ocean, and stops at any given exit or National Forest along the way that strikes his fancy. He’s still home before nightfall.

21. After Derry series by pineapplecrushface - ~47,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie are both pining and miserable disasters post-movie. Until they finally get their shit together and figure some things out.

He woke when Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and touched his back, under his disgusting shirt. “Hey,” he said. “Your turn. I mean, your turn after I wash my hand again. What did you lie down in?”

“Your mom,” he said, sitting up and glaring at Eddie, who was half-naked, a towel wrapped around his waist. “How do you all look so good and I ended up looking like fucking Christopher Lloyd? Like, not young Christopher Lloyd. Present day.”

Eddie’s hand was still tucked under his shirt, rubbing a path across his lower back. “I guess you did grow into your looks.”

“Oh, fuck you, you weirdly muscular little shitweasel,” Richie said, escaping to the shower so he didn’t have to look at the slope of Eddie’s arms. He was weak for that, the line of a man’s shoulders and back. He was weak for all of Eddie, really. After everything he had seen, he guessed it was something he could admit to himself. There was no panic left in it.

22. for better, for worse by kaspbrak_kid - ~26,000 words, not rated - Eddie has just gotten through a messy divorce and is trying to deal with the fact that he’s been in love with Richie for 30 years, and then he has to go to Ben and Bev’s wedding. Not a great combination of things.

Eddie blows out a shaky breath and puts down his phone, then picks it back up again, restless. He scrolls up through his and Richie’s texts.

They’re not that frequent. They talk in the group chat, mostly. Eddie thinks about texting him all the time, several times a day, and then never does. It’s all just stupid shit, anyway. A dream he had or a movie he saw on TV that he remembers Richie used to like, and does he still like it? Some things his therapist tells him he should say, like that he’s been in love with Richie for somewhere between six months and thirty-odd years.

Instead, most of their private texts are just inane bickering, or Richie trying out jokes on him, or Eddie telling Richie how to clean the cut he just accidentally gave himself opening a can. He could have just googled it. But he asked Eddie.

23. feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson - ~21,000 words, teen - I’m kind of a sucker for the slowburn, falling in love over distance trope. This one does it well, with bonus Richie dealing with his issues and figuring shit out.

Mostly, though, it’s just a slight tug at the back of his mind, another part of his day. A mumbled let me call Eddie, like an afterthought, while he’s tapping his foot in line at Whole Foods.

Eddie always, always answers.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” he chirps during business hours, dry and glib, and Richie will respond in a deep, exaggerated baritone with something awful like Mr. Kaspbrak, your test results are in and unfortunately you will keep shrinking at an alarming rate for the rest of your life, something barely funny that he says just to get a reaction.

(It had been such a mistake to give Richie his work number.)

24. it’s about time that you just unwind by fuckener - ~9,500 words, explicit - Eddie finds out that Richie is gay via his stand-up and promptly loses his mind.

“Yeah? Mine was weird, guys, I’m not going to lie. I came up with this really good idea on how to cause total chaos at a family event, you wanna hear it?” There it was - glasses adjustment, not even past the one minute mark. “If you really want to shake up another dull as fuck Thanksgiving with your parents, just wait ‘til you’re in your forties and your elderly father is spooning out his first helping of mashed potatoes for the night and then drop the bomb that you’ve been gay the whole time. Boom, happy Thanksgiving. Pass the sweet corn, I want to fuck the huge green dude on the can.” People laughed. Richie did that thing with his face between a smile and a scowl. “It’s the long game, yeah, but -”

Eddie slammed his laptop shut.

25. feel this burning, love of mine by floatingonthelehigh - 17,000 words, mature - The clown is a bastard. Richie gets a second chance.

“Don’t leave,” Eddie says quietly, and god fucking damn it, it breaks him that Eddie thinks he ever would.

“No, fuck no, Eddie. I’m not going to.” He adjusts his grip on the jacket against Eddie’s stomach, winces when Eddie gasps in pain. Richie’s lip shakes again as he just keeps talking. “Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think I’d leave you, after just remembering you're my best fucking friend in the world, after twenty seven fucking years. My clown-murdering partner in crime! How could I ever leave you? Fuck no, I’m not leaving you, Eds. Idiot,” He laughs emptily, rubbing Eddie’s cheek, and pauses, beginning to nod to himself as a goal flits into his mind. “I’m going to pick you up, I’m going to get you out of here, to a hospital. Right now. And—” Eddie’s grip on his arm tightens, and he stops.

26. hey there demons (it's me, ya boi) by dharmainitiative - 12,000 words, teen - Is this another ghosthunters AU? Why, yes it is. I don’t know why there are two of these, but I enjoyed them both. This one is much lighter, and I really liked the way that the writer creates a very lived-in feeling as soon as you jump into this universe.

As it was, BuzzFeed wasn’t a bad place to work, despite all the shit Richie gave it. He was paid well, there were always a bunch of cushy chairs everywhere, and the food that got brought in for lunch everyday was way better than the shitty grilled cheeses he ate at home for dinner. And despite what Richie expected, his coworkers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. Sure, they were all millenials who thought landing an internship at BuzzFeed was the height of success, but most of them were friendly, and occasionally funny, and like Richie, just excited to get paid to do something that required little to no effort.

Most of them, at least. There was also Eddie Kaspbrak.

Richie met Eddie his first day at BuzzFeed, when he was shown his desk and the incessantly chatty intern that sat at the desk right next to him. Working side by side — literally — let Richie learn a lot of things about Eddie Kaspbrak: he was a neurotic hypochondriac, exclusively owned Polo shirts, and talked faster than Richie could even blink.

27. New Page, Same Old Book by Rend_Herring - 17,000 words, explicit - Post-movie, Eddie divorces his wife, moves across the country and makes himself comfortable in Richie’s home. Richie is totally fine and not freaking out at all.

He clips the wall coming into the foyer, practically crashes over the little table he uses to stack mail—fumbles around with the chain, the deadbolt, before finally wrenching open the door. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sending it bouncing back against the doorstop, that it might have been a good idea to check the peephole and make sure it actually wasn’t some asshole out for a smash and grab in the middle of the night, or worse — a fan.

Richie would be less dumbfounded by either option.

He squints at the person standing in front of him, blinks.

“I’ve had this dream before,” Richie says, voice still croaky from sleep, “usually you’re wearing less clothes.”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie sighs, and rolls his eyes when Richie jumps back a bit, genuinely startled that it’s not some manufacturing of his sordid imagination. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

28. Drives Me Wild by rustywrites - ~4,000 words, explicit - Eddie and Richie have hotel sex after RIchie wins himself an Emmy.

"I thought I told you no more jokes about how much you love my dick," Eddie says, shifting to straddle Richie's waist in earnest, rolling his hips downward just to emphasize his point, no doubt. His hands are braced on both of Richie's shoulders, pinning him back with his bodyweight, while Richie's hands are on his waist, holding him in place. It's not the most comfortable position, all things considered--Richie's knees are bent over the end of the mattress, his feet still on the floor, and they're both still in their fucking monkey suits.

Richie had tried to make the case with his agent and his manager that he should be allowed to attend the Emmys in the same clothes he always wore (jeans, a shitty t-shirt, a semi-fashionable jacket, you know, the works.) They were good enough for his specials, one of which had earned him the nomination to begin with, but both Anna and Johnathan had pushed back hard, and when Eddie had not-so-subtly sided with them, well. Suit and tie it was.

29. Rewrite by sachi_sama - ~13,000 words, mature - Stan is dead, but somehow only Eddie can see him as they race to beat It. That’s...probably not a good sign. (note: Stan stays dead in this fic.)

“Whoa. Hey, Eds, you being a weepy drunk over there?” Richie asks, and he scoots over into Stan's seemingly empty chair, and Stan vanishes as Richie's hand is suddenly on Eddie's shoulder.

“I just—I saw...” Eddie pauses, and he wipes his hands over his eyes, sniffling. When's the last time he cried? It makes his head hurt every time. “Fuck. I'm sorry, guys.” He stands abruptly. “I'm gonna go splash some water on my face.” He hurriedly exits the room and he hears Mike asking what he saw, but Eddie is already power-walking across the restaurant to the bathroom, aware Dead Stan is hot on his heels.

“Lucky. The bathroom is empty,” Stan says as he leans against the wall. Eddie looks at him, really looks, and he sees the blood on Stan's wrists.

30. ** we are all going forward, none of us are going back series by theappliepielifestyle - ~21,000 words, teen - Richie gets stuck in a time loop and forced to repeat their last stand at Neibolt over and over until he gets it right.

Richie hears himself finish saying Let’s kill this clown and it’s only when he finishes forming the n that reality sets in. What the fuck -

He whirls around. Everyone’s standing around him, just like they were last night - they’re in front of the fucking house, it’s standing again.

“What the fuck,” Richie croaks. “No, come on - what’s going on? Ohhhh fuck.”

He only lets himself stare at it for a few seconds of unbridled hate before he keeps looking at the others, who are now staring at him, pausing from where they’d all taken a step towards the house before looking back and stopping to watch Richie’s nervous breakdown.

31. ** keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theapplepielifestyle - 16,000 words, teen - Eddie dies, sort of, and meets Stan in the afterlife. The two of them realize that they can communicate with their friends in their dreams. Eddie has to watch Richie slowly breakdown in his absence.

32. ** happily ever afters all the way around series by theapplepielifestyle - ~35,000 words, teen - I have so much appreciation for this author’s desire to fix the ending by any means necessary. In this one, that good old turtle lends a hand and sends Richie back in time to fix everything. It’s...a lot.

Then it smooths out into an actual scene, if jumpy: a sigil on wooden boards that look a lot like the floor of Richie’s apartment. The sigil is probably drawn in blood, but it could also be red paint. Although Richie’s being very optimistic about that. Anyway, the dream is mostly that: the sigil being drawn, slow and precise, by Richie. It’s dark in the dream, and the sigil being drawn is overcut with more fleeting images, chased with sounds: Stan’s bloody hand dangling out of a bath. Stan as a kid, on the tail end of saying something as he walks home in the evening. Eddie with blank eyed, slumped in IT’s lair. Eddie as a kid, in mid-argument in the clubhouse. A voice so deep and impossible that it hurts, a voice that reminds him of the turtle’s gaze: come back come back you can change the -

At the end of the dream, the scene will stabilize. Dream-Richie will say some shit he can't make out. Then he'll say the one thing he can make out, which is: I’m coming.

And then he’ll wake up.

LINK TO REDDIE FIC REC LIST PART TWO

#it #reddie #reddie fic #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #fic recs #ao3 #rec list #damn this took so long #i hope someone gets some use out of it

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ya-like-space · 4 years

Text

Oranges, A Warm Summer’s Breeze, and Home

Souji didn’t want to leave. In the short year he was there, Inaba had become his home. The only place he’d ever felt like he truly belonged. As he watched his friends and family grow farther and farther away from the train window, tears slowly started to run down his cheeks. He’s leaving behind the best thing that’s ever happened to him. When the platform was no more than a speck in the distance, Souji sat back in his seat. Closing his eyes, he drifts off to sleep.

He wakes up hours later to a station announcement. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he grabs his bag from the overhead. Stepping off the train, a rush of emotion hits him. It hadn’t been long since he’d been in Tokyo, but it felt like forever. It all felt wrong. A sense of unfamiliarity flowed throughout him as he walked through the busy streets. Compared to Inaba, everything was so much bigger.

Dreading walking into his parent’s apartment again, Souji stood outside the door, counting. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, ...10. Upon reaching 10, he flung open the door. Duffel bag in hand, he raced quickly and quietly to his bedroom. His parents weren’t home, and wouldn’t be for another two days. Couldn’t even make it home to greet their own son. Setting his bag down, he flopped onto his bed. He didn’t want to unpack, knowing if he did, the reality of the situation would set in. Instead, he settled for glaring at all the boxes already in his room. They had arrived days prior.

He can still remember how hard it was for him to pack. A part of him wanted to leave everything there, exactly how it was, so when he came back it would all be the same. But the rational part of him had won out, and he called Yosuke over to help him. Though it probably hadn’t been necessary, Souji had wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. They had gotten all of the things he was taking with him packed in only an hour. Leaving them the rest of the day to spend with each other. Not wanting to be in his empty room anymore, Yosuke had suggested they take a walk to the Samegawa. Or at least, that’s what Souji thought was going to happen.

Yosuke had confessed to him. Down by the riverbank, in the same place they had their fight. He had broken down when they got there, spilling his heart to Souji. Yosuke kissed him that day, arms looped around Souji’s back, hands in his hair. They walked home together hand in hand, tear tracks still visible on Yosuke’s cheeks.

Souji already misses Inaba, and he’s barely been in Tokyo an hour. It wasn’t fair that he had to leave. That he had to go back to an empty apartment, to parents who were never home, to parents who used him, and a new school of people who don’t know what he’s been through.

That night, Souji dreamt of a warm embrace and a rushing river.

Even though he really didn’t want to, Souji began unpacking his stuff. He started with the duffel bag, which was mostly empty. Other than a few changes of clothes, and his toiletries.

But when he opened the first box, instead of the muted black of the old t-shirt that Souji had thought would be on top, there was a rumpled lump of orange fabric on top, which was revealed to be a very familiar hoodie when he pulled it out of the box by one sleeve. It was one of Yosuke’s hoodies, the one he’d been wearing when he’d helped Souji pack up his room, in fact. Tears begin streaming down his face. Souji lifts the hoodie out of the box, burying his face in it. It smells like oranges, a warm summer's breeze, and home. He stays like this for a while, before attempting to compose himself. Flipping over the hoodie, he sees something that was previously hidden. A little pink sticky note, stuck to the underside of the cloth.

I’ll miss u partner <3

That breaks him. Souji crumples into a ball on the floor, unable to stop sobbing. A good 10 minutes go by before he can even think again. When he finally manages to collect himself, he gets an idea. His parents arrive tomorrow, so he’ll have to leave early in the morning. He buys a one way ticket to Inaba, and repacks all of his things. This has to work. Before he goes to bed, he sends a text to Dojima, telling him about the plan. Dojima immediately agrees, telling Souji he’ll pick him up from the station tomorrow.

Souji gets up the next morning, and writes a note to his parents. Placing it on the dining room table, it feels like a weight has been lifted from him. He walks back to the train station. On the ride back to Inaba, Souji wonders if he did the right thing. But then he looks down at the hoodie he slipped on that morning, before leaving. All doubts leave his mind at the first sight of orange. He rests his head against the window as the gentle rumbling of the train lulls him into a peaceful sleep.

When he wakes, the conductor is announcing Yasoinaba Station is only minutes away. Souji grabs his duffel bag and moves to the other side of the train. It’s almost like coming here the first time, with the empty compartment and empty station. He meets Dojima outside, getting into the passenger seat of the car.

“Hi.”

Dojima turns his head to look at him. Ruffling Souji’s hair he smiles, “Hey there kiddo. It’s good to see you.”

Souji smiles back at him.

“It’s only been a day,” he pauses, his expression softening slightly, “but I missed you too, Uncle.”

The drive back to the house is silent. But it’s the good kind of silence. The kind that calms you, and steadies your nerves. Souji’s half expecting to be bombarded by Nanako when they get inside, but instead, the house is dark.

“Nanako went to play at a friend’s house today. She should be home soon.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Souji had been excited to see his cousin, but he was fine with waiting. It would give him and his Uncle time to sort some things out.

“Now. Souji. Are you sure you want to do this? Because if you are,

I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done.”

Dojima wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the signs of abuse in his nephew when he had first arrived in Inaba, and as much as he would like to believe his sister wouldn’t do something like that, he knew it was true. And when Souji had sent him a message asking about this, well, he couldn’t deny it anymore. He cared about Souji, and wanted him to be safe.

“Yes. I’m sure. I don’t want to be a part of that family anymore, I don’t want to be treated like a doll, like I’m just there for their entertainment. I want to be here, with my real family.”

“That’s all I needed to know. Now let’s get this paperwork filled out.”

“Alright.”

Nanako arrived home hours after they had finished filing everything out. Her face had lit up upon seeing Souji.

“Big Bro!”

She jumped into him, squeezing her arms around his middle.

“What are you doing here?”

He smiles down at her.

“I decided I’m not going back to the city.”

“Yay!”

The three of them spent that night redoing Souji’s room, and eating take-away. Souji had decided he was gonna surprise Yosuke tomorrow. His shift at Junes ended at 3, so all he had to do was show up after it was over.

When Souji woke the next morning, Dojima was arguing with someone on the phone. Souji’s parents, most likely. He listened for a while, barely able to make out any of the words. They sounded angry, and he was glad that he didn’t have to deal with them. Dojima hung up the phone, finally noticing Souji.

“Hm? Oh, good morning Souji.”

“Are my parents angry?”

Dojima nodded, motioning for Souji to sit.

“They seem to think they own you, and that they reserve the right to control your every move.”

His expression darkened.

“Souji. You should’ve said something sooner.”

“I know. But I was afraid too.”

“Well, as long as you’re safe now.”

Souji smiled softly, “Yeah. I am.”

After speaking with his Uncle for a bit longer, and getting the last of the adoption papers filled, he headed to the Samegawa to kill time. It was a little hard getting there, since he nearly ran into Yukiko on the way. Souji wasn’t quite ready to tell the rest of the team he was in Inaba again, in case something went wrong. The only exception being Yosuke. He really wanted to see Yosuke again, but he had to wait. Souji spent the next few hours down by the riverbank, listening to the rushing water.

Before he knew it, it was almost 3, and Souji made his way to Junes. His plan was to wait near the back entrance, where Yosuke parks his bike. That way, if someone he knew was in Junes, they wouldn’t see him.

One minute. 30 seconds. 15 seconds. Now! Yosuke walked through the door, right on time. At first, he didn’t notice Souji was there. But then he saw him standing, right next to his bike. Yosuke barreled into him, laughing happily.

“Souji! What are you doing here?”

But then Souji said the best thing Yosuke had heard all day.

"I'm not going," suddenly Souji had him pushed up against a wall, and was kissing him. It wasn't a gentle kiss either, it was hard and demanding and so full of need that Yosuke started to feel a little dizzy.

"W-what?" he managed to stutter, utterly bewildered by the turn of events.

"Tell me you love me," Souji requested.

Now Yosuke definitely wasn’t expecting that, his face flushing a deep red. Souji was looking at him, but the look in his eyes was something Yosuke had never seen before. Something like panic, or desperation. For some reason Souji had come all the way back to Inaba, and the least Yosuke could do was grant this small request.

"I love you, Souji.”

Souji practically squeezed him to death in a hug, burying his face in the side of Yosuke's neck with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Say it again," he repeated, voice muffled by Yosuke's shirt. Yosuke grinned, feeling warmth flow throughout him.

"I love you," he sighed, wrapping his arms around Souji in return.

There’s that smell again. Souji breathed in deeply. Oranges, a warm summer's breeze, and home.

Home.

He’s finally home.

@souyoweek2020 Day 6 | scent

One more day! I've had the idea for this fic in my head, ever since I finished the game for the first time. I always thought there should've been an ending where Souji got to stay in Inaba. This ended up being a tad bit heavier then i wanted, but it kind’ve took on a life of its own while I was writing it.

#souyoweek2020 #souyo #souji x yosuke #yu x yosuke #souji seta #yu narukami #persona 4 protagonist #yosuke hanamura #nanako dojima #ryotaro dojima #persona 4 #p4 #fanfic #fanart

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