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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 1 month

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This is a direct follow up to #391

#396

“Fuckface, I don’t care what demons your preacher dad put into your head. The fact that you are coming to the realization that that part of your life is over. He must have really fucked you up, cause I have never seen a twenty-year-old take a beating like that. I shredded your back to ribbons, and all you did was say you were sorry over and over. You almost make me feel sorry for you. But I don’t….

“But the sad thing is I do care that I have the son of a vehement anti-gay preacher in my cab. A son that was rock hard and leaking while I was laying my whip into you. Did you know that?

“Yeah, while you were crying, your dick was loving every minute of it. Let me ask you. You want this? You want to suck dick, take it up the ass, and get smacked around for a life?

“You are going to have to do more than nod. Here, come back with me to my bunk. You are going to suck on my dick a bit…. Kneel there between my legs while I lay back…. Yeah, I know you’re still sore, but oh well. Help me get these pants off….

“Ok this is what I want you to. I’m going to be filming you. This will be your confessional and coming out video in one. You are to suck my seven-and-a-half-inch fat dick, but I want you to pull off and talk to the camera from time to time. But when you do, I want you to jerk my dick and rub it on your face continually as you talk. You are to tell the camera that you love cock. You can’t get enough of it in your mouth and in your ass. Tell the camera that you’ve been living a lie, and you denounce your previous life—a life you have no intention of returning to. Also, tell the camera that you ran away from the first driver at the first chance you had. He needs to be washed free from any responsibility of you.

“You got all that? It is important that you hit every one of those points. And when you are done sucking and talking, I’m going to lift my legs. I want you to move down to eating my hole. Make sure you moan. Still stroke my cock. I want to show the viewer how much of a pig you are. You ready? Look at the camera. Go!…

“…

“…Atta boy. That was good. That video will definitely make a statement. And I love that your gold cross from your necklace was able to make an appearance or two.

“You can stop slurping my shit hole now. You’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Help me get my legs down. We need to get going, and I need to install you.

“Install is the right word here. Here, put these wrist restraints on…. Yeah, you ain’t the first faggot I have bound up in here; you ain’t going to be the last either. Normally I would just hogtie you to the bunk, but since I am bobtailing, it would be very rare that we’ll be pulled over by the DoT.

“Here’s some ankle restraints for you to put on as well. I own this trailer outright. I have made a few modifications for my transport of fag meat. These heavy-duty bungee restraints are better than chain or rope. As we roll down the highway, they will keep you in place with your legs spread and secured to the sides.

“Move aside; I need to be behind you. This third bungee will connect your two ankles together. All three will keep you centered with your legs apart.

“Give me your hand. Your wrists will be attached to bungees as well. I’ll have you standing spread eagle naked as we drive the next few hundred miles. When I bought this tractor I made sure that there was a little extra room. Some of these cabs can be so tiny.

“That one went on easy. Now the other.

“…There! How does it feel? No, don’t bother answering. I don’t care.

“Damn you look good, being all stretched out. Your back and ass are nicely welted up. The bleeding seems to have stopped. This is so hot. Arch your back and stick your ass out. I need to fuck it.

“I don’t have much time. Damn you are still loose from earlier. Fuck. This cunt was really made for cock. It’s not going to take me much time. Oh yeah.

“…Mmmmm. Oh yeah. This cunt is going to be used tonight. I contacted my riding buddies. You ever been gang banged by a bunch of gay and bi bikers? They know how to use faggot piece of shits like you. They know who you are and who your papa is. They won’t care that you made those videos demonstrating your love for cock. They’ll probably make their own videos too.

“I’m getting close boy. Tighten up around my dick. Fuck yeah boy. You ready? You ready? Here it comes boy. Ahh. Ahh. Ahhhhhh!!!!

“Damn faggot. You have a righteous cunt. Clamp down as I pull out.

“We got to get going. I still have a few things to add.

“This is one of my creations. It’s like an anal hook except that it’s got a butt plug on the end instead of a steel ball. It goes in your cunt like this. Normally faggots like you struggle, but with the amount of dick you received today, you have one giant gape. It’s affixed to a metal rod that goes from your cunt and up your crack to the small of your back. There this heavy chain will suspend you from the ceiling.

“There’s no bungee on this. It should help you deal with the truck movements. I used to have a slave mounting post with a dildo mounted on the top, but it was too cumbersome to work with in this tight space.

“This collar gets secured to the chain as well. Nothing puts a fag slave in its right frame of mind than a collar being locked on. Well, excluding a back full of welts and cuts.

“This necklace and its gold cross is coming off. You don’t need it anymore….

“Shut up! That was a statement of fact, not an invitation for an open discussion…. I don’t give a shit who gave it to you.

“…Open your mouth. …You are the reason why God created gags. Hold still, I just got to buckle it on. …There! No more talking for you. You’ll be blindfolded, but there are other things I need to show you.

“Hold still. I need to get in front. Can’t much drive while standing behind you. Oh, I should hang this from the roof as well.

“OK move aside, now. …There! You look good there all spread out.

“But I’m not done. You need to be wearing my jewelry…. The first is a pair of titty clamps, and not just any titty clamps. These have weights dangling from them. It hurts, doesn’t it?... Good. Second set goes on. Ha! You can’t pull away. Those bungee cords and the anal hook pull you right back in position.

“They’ll be tight, but you will still have blood flow. Damn that looks better dangling on your chest than some gold chain with a cross.

“Oh lookie there! With all that I am doing to you, your pecker is semi hard. And look at those balls! They are just hanging there. Don’t worry. I have something for them too.

“This is a ball collar. It’s flat and wide. It opens, closes, and locks in place rather easily Your sack fits in very comfortably in the half-inch space between the front and back pieces, but there is no way that either ball will be able to squeeze through. Once it’s on, like I just locked it in place, there ain’t no way it’s coming off unless I allow it.

“Feels fine, doesn’t it?

“The other interesting feature is that it has a ring in the center of the front and a matching one in the back. And wouldn’t you know, I have weights to attach to it. That’s one, …and that’s the second.

“Oh look at those balls getting pulled away. Fuck that’s hot.

“I should say that the weights on your titties and your balls are attached with a strong elastic connector. So they are going to be bouncing around. Every pothole I hit, every uneven part of the road, every gear shift, this cab rocks back and forth.

“We are bobtailing. That means that there’s no trailer, no trailer to stabilize the movements of the tractor. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, and those weights are going to be bouncing all over the place.

“You ready to get rolling?

“Oh wait. There’s one more thing. I need to show you this….

“…You look puzzled. I bet you are thinking, why does a truck driver have a toilet brush? There are no toilets in this cab… well no porcelain ones. I can’t speak to your talents… yet.

“And look at it. It’s an expensive one. Solid metal handle. The bristles are firm. I would hand it to you to feel, but your hands are otherwise occupied. Trust me when I say this. This fucker is heavy.

“Before coming to stand in front of you I hung a very elastic cord from the roof about 6 inches behind you. This brush now hangs from it. With every movement of this cab, it’s going to bounce and swing all around behind you. It may even strike you, reaching anywhere from your thighs to your shoulders. Your bloody welted back is a certainty.

“Hey! I just had a great idea. Let me take your necklace and wrap it around the bristles. That way as it strikes your back, you can thank your dad and thank Jesus.

“Ok blindfold on. My secondary dash cam is filming your struggle. And lastly, my noise canceling headset will be on. If I can find one of your dad’s sermons on the evils of the gays, I will blast it for you to hear. Found one. “Let’s get rolling. Damn, not even into third gear and the screaming have begun.”

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 2 months

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𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘 ✧₊

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

day 20: Uniform, Titjob, Thighfucking

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x virgin!fem!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 828 | CONTENT: inexperienced virgin, Joel makes you wait, thigh fucking, allusion to public sex acts, implied girthy age gap | SYNOPSIS: Joel vows to make good on his promise to be your first, but a thigh fucking will have to do for now.

He’d promised you’d do it soon. He’d promised he was still interested and was just taking the time it deserved — doing this right. That he just wanted to make sure you’d be able to take him with as little difficulty as possible, only the inevitable discomfort of something new.

“Once I start, I don’t know how good I’m gonna be at stayin’ slow,” he’d warned you. Part of you wanted him to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together however he saw fit. Part of you wanted him to wreck you, to destroy you for any other man than him – he’d already done so in every other way. But mostly you knew he was right.

It was bad enough that you were well past the age of exploration and discovery and “should be” hurtling towards settling into yourself and your preferences. The “late bloomer” moniker, once a fitting and apt handle, now felt more spiteful in its imagery. You were a dying bloom on a withered vine when you met Joel Miller, and that was the first time you’d ever understood all those sort of passionate tales and hormone laden exploits of your peers and friends.

But unlike the late teen early twenty somethings that those stories boasted, Joel wasn’t in a rush to say yes to just any offer of physical intimacy. Turns out having a daughter of his own played a big factor in how he approached and treated women. It was the sort of gentlemanly respect that drove you up a wall. You finally met someone who made your insides feel like a match thrown into a powder keg, and he insisted on taking it slow.

Yes, you didn’t want to have a bad first experience and then be put off intimacy from then on. Yes, you recognized a newfound impatience when it came to his body and yours together. Yes, you wanted your first time to be special and slow and feel good and be with the right person.

But you knew he was the right person. And right now when you feel the heft of him dragging between your clamped legs, you have half a mind to just line it up yourself and push onto it, pain be damned. Your inner thighs drip with your own arousal. The saliva Joel had spit onto his hand and worked over his cock wasn’t necessary anymore, not when you were so worked up and wet for him.

He glided with ease and groaned in unison with you every time the lip of his head stuttered across your clit. It felt amazing, but you wanted more. Always wanted more. You’d take what he’d give, though, for now. Knowing one day he’ll give more than what you could manage but talk you through it.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises,” he grunts next to your ear.

You weren’t aware you were making noises – not loudly, anyway. That was sort of an unspoken part of this deal. Something to be kept quiet, between the two of you, until you were sure. You��d told him a million times you were sure, but it was like he was waiting for you to wake up and realize you could have literally anyone else but an old, washed up man like him. You didn’t see him as anything of the sort, and you had never felt anything like this for anyone else.

“C-Can’t help it,” you whine. “You feel so–oh!– so good.”

“Think one’uh these days—” his breath hitches and stalls as he picks up his pace between your thighs “—real soon I’ll give it to ya.”

You moan an exhale, elation and victory at some firmer sort of promise as to when he’ll finally fill you up and make you his. “I’m ready. I– I can t-take it.”

“Lemme make you come like this, honey. Lemme see what you’ll look like fallin’ apart on my cock.”

Your wrists dig into the brick siding where you’ve braced your body. His length rubbed back and forth, the quickening pace giving you a clear imagining of what his cockhead would feel like punching into your cervix. Your body clenches up, your legs slamming together even tighter as you bite back the sounds of your climax.

“Oohh fuck, there she is. Yeah, goddamn—”

A heaved groan. His arms slipping around your middle to hold you close as he stills and releases against the brick. You watch it drip down, thick and slow, and think of what it will feel like to be full of him, left dripping for the rest of the day when he spills inside you after wrecking you.

His breathing levels behind you, and a soft chuckle earns one of your own. “Think next time around we should just take it to my bed, huh?”

You nod in urgent agreement. You’d already waited so long for him. What was one more “next time” in the grand scheme of things?

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters

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ellecdc · 2 months

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OMG I HAVE AN IDEA

What about the kids (mid Hogwarts) in like 3rd or younger (2nd?) Year and they invite hermione and ron and the Weasley family for Christmas and it's amazing and we see draco getting along w them 😭😭😭 and Hermione is the 'mom' friend so she loves hanging out w the other blacks and potters? and we see how nice harry and draco's friends are and it's just a heartfelt moment 😭😭😭

I'm a whore for Christmas and also fluff so YES HERE YOU GO I don’t even know if this is any good so I apologize if this isn’t really what you were looking for. I realize now there isn’t much interaction between the golden trio + Draco but this is my take on it 🫶 CBBH Holiday Special - Weasley, Potter, Black families

CW: mentions of past (parental) abuse

What's One More?

You and Sirius were pretty chill parents – at least you liked to think so. You never really spoke to your children like they were children, but rather like little people who had important thoughts and ideas. You let them express themselves creatively, which sometimes led to paint and marker prints lining the walls, or photo albums being plundered and cut up to create scrap books, or even the odd redesign of an old family heirloom portrait in the hall.

None of that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a little magic.

What you guys could not budge on?

Christmas at home with the family.

This was why when Draco sent a letter home during his 3rd year suggesting he may stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Sirius thought your head might actually combust.

“What on earth is he thinking? He’s never spent a holiday away from us – why wouldn’t he want to come home?” You were yelling at Sirius as if it was him who suggested Draco stay at Hogwarts this Christmas.

“I’m not sure love, maybe there’s a reason.” He tried to reason with you. He should have tried to keep his mouth shut.

“There is no reason good enough to break his mother’s heart.” You pouted, sounding disturbingly close to tears.

And you all called Sirius the dramatic one.

“I’ll talk to him.” Sirius promised with a placating kiss to your temple.

So, Sirius sent him an owl basically along the lines of “hey mate, you’re tearing your mother apart here. It’d be sort of shady of me to let another guy break my girl’s heart so what the hell?”, to which Draco replied, basically speaking straight to Sirius’ soul.

“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just that Theo doesn’t really want to go home this winter, and I don’t want him to be alone for the holidays.”

My stupid lovely caring son, who raised him? Sirius wondered to himself. The answer was obvious. It was you.

Theodore Nott, son of Thoros Nott and the late Camelia Nott nee Rosier. His mother died under suspicious circumstances (which Sirius felt translated directly to “shitty ass husband”) when the boy was four, and Thoros Nott was able to avoid prosecution for his roles in the Wizarding War by offering intel on other prominent Death Eaters.

Azkaban or not, the man was an ass. Rumoured to have killed his own wife, Sirius couldn’t imagine he was much nicer to his only son.

The heir.

Sirius felt sick...it was nearly painful how much he could relate to poor Theodore Nott.

“Did you find out why your son hates us?” You asked Sirius a few days later. You were obviously teasing, but Sirius didn’t miss the genuine concern in your voice.

“Yes, and actually, the reasoning for his absence this holiday is a direct result of him being your child.”

You placed the mug you’d been holding a little too roughly onto the table as you leveled a look at Sirius. “What are you on about?”

“He doesn’t want to leave his friend behind.” Sirius smiled kindly at you. He watched the contempt drain from your face.

“The sod!”

Sirius barked a surprised laugh. “What!?”

“That’s such an easy fix!” you exclaimed like everyone around you was sort of stupid (they kind of were). “His friend can come here! We’re already hosting the Weasley’s; Lily told Harry to invite Hermione too. What’s one more?”

What’s one more, indeed.

So that’s how Sirius, James, Lily, you, Arthur & Molly Weasley ended up on platform 9 ¾ to retrieve exactly eleven (11) children while Bill and Charlie waited back at the house with Remus, Regulus and the youngest four of the Potter/Black children.

“Hermione, I hope your parents weren’t too disappointed we stole you away for the holidays. They already have to part with you for ten months of the year.” You said as you served Lyra a portion of roast potato’s before passing the dish to your left.

“They were a little sad, but they said they understood my excitement at getting the chance to spend more time with wizarding families.” The fourteen-year-old stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, perhaps the next time they’d like to join you. The more the merrier.” James interjected.

“You sure about that Prongsie? This table can’t take much more transfiguring to make it any longer!” Remus called dramatically from the opposite end of the table, as if they were in completely different rooms.

“Bugger the table!” James called back just as dramatically, “we’ll just get a new one!”

Sirius didn’t miss the nervous glance Theo shot towards Draco. Sirius remembered how nervous James’ boisterous behaviour with his parents made him – concerned that a lashing or crucio was just around the corner.

“Don’t mind them, Theo,” you offered quietly to the boy. Sirius took a moment to marvel the fact that you’d noticed too, and your mama-bear protection came out at the perfect time. “They’re idiots with zero volume control.”

“I HAVE PERFECT VOLUME CONTROL, VIX.” James screamed, causing the younger kids to squeal in laughter and bring their hands up to cover their ears. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley’s all chuckled at the outburst as well – accustomed to James’ brand of goofiness.

“You get used to it, trust me.” Sirius offered quietly with a wink. Theo smiled gratefully at the two of you and seemed to relax somewhat in his chair.

“I agree that the production needs to be tightly structured and coordinated Percy, but it also has to be fun or you’re going to lose your actors.” Hermione could be heard arguing with the older boy from down the hall.

"I cannot work under these conditions." Percy could be heard responding.

“You’d think this was a Broadway production of Sweeny Todd.” Lily muttered quietly to Sirius sat beside her.

“What’s a Sweeny Todd?” Sirius muttered back.

“What’s a Broadway?” James muttered from her other side.

“Purebloods.” Remus muttered from across the room with an eyeroll.

The kids wanted to make their own play for the adults - it was mostly the youngest ones, though Fred & George never could help themselves but partake in any potential mischief, Hermione was very excited to help direct the production, and Percy never could leave very much alone. The second Hermione was involved, Harry and Ron shoved their noses into it too, while Draco and Theo sat in the audience with the adults and far too many stuffed animals.

“I mean, were the teddy bears really necessary? There’s already a theatre worth of people here.” Theo commented what he thought was quietly to Draco, but he had one werewolf and four animagi with animal-like hearing, as well as Molly & Lily with tried and true mother-hearing in the room, so his comment was met with a round of laughter.

“Oh my gods, Draco, can we keep him?” Remus commented as he pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye.

Pink dusted the tops of Theo’s cheek bones, but he offered the room a shy smile.

Sirius thought it was like looking in a mirror: he imagined this is what Effie and Fleamont saw when Sirius spent holidays in this very home some nearly twenty years ago. A boy who was likely fun and eccentric around his friends where he felt safe, but reverting to the proper pureblood heir you were beaten into becoming around adults.

Sirius sort of hated it.

As the little kids and the rest of the production made their way to the room, Sirius noticed James’ eyes on him. James offered him a kind smile that brought tears to his eyes, almost as if he was saying ‘I know, right?’

By the end of the holiday, the adults had almost managed to get Theo to shed his aristocratic persona with them.

“And how’s Minnie? Are you guys being nice to her? Make sure to set up some good pranks this year; gotta keep the old gal on her toes, it’s good for her health.” James said to the Hogwarts students solemnly at breakfast.

“You did not just call Minnie an ‘old gal’, Prongs.” Remus chided from his place at the table.

“You both did not just refer to Professor McGonagall as Minnie.” Regulus added incredulously.

“That’s her name, Reggie.” James answered no nonsense. “We earned that right when we graduated.”

“No, we earned that right when we graduated.” Lily corrected as she motioned to herself, you, and Regulus. “You lot should still be in detention for the crap you pulled.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all adorned their faces with a blissful sort of reverence as they thought back to their school days.

“We were awesome.” James said dreamily.

“You were awful.” You corrected.

“You’re our hero’s.” The Twins added in unison.

“What in Godric’s name are you doing to them, Hermione?” Ron asked through a large serving of sausage in his mouth.

Hermione, who was replacing small pompom’s into two kitchen whisks to hand back to three-year-old Stella and Leo, didn’t even spare Ron a glance as she answered sharply, “It’s good for their fine motor skills, Ronald.”

“Wha’s a fine motor skill?” He asked incredulously, somehow still with food in his mouth.

“Oh, read a book, Ronald.” Hermione huffed before her face turned sickly sweet as she cooed at Stella. “Good job, Stell!”

“Blimey.” Ron muttered as he turned to Harry.

“I can’t believe you’re all going to be leaving us again so soon!” Molly said tearfully as she looked around the room. “I like our having our table so full- FRED WEASLEY YOU GET THAT FURNITURE OFF THE CEILING THIS ISNTANT.”

“I’m George, mum.” The twin said from his chair suspended on the ceiling. Sirius had to give him credit for looking as casual as he did whilst all the blood in his body was no doubt making its way to his head.

“I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE, YOU’LL BE GROUNDED IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS.”

At the beginning of the week – the shouting, the threats, the energy, and the talking back that George (or Fred, Sirius still wasn’t entirely sure) just displayed would have had Theo pale in the face. Today, he just looked around the room quickly to ensure everyone else was in good spirits before joining in on the laughter.

Back on platform 9 ¾, you and Sirius decided to pull Draco aside.

“Hey love, listen. I don’t want to embarrass Theo, but would you let him know we really enjoyed his company over the holiday, and he is welcome at the Manor anytime.” You spoke softly to your son.

“We mean it, Draco. The Potter Manor has, and always will be, a safe place for people to run to. If he needs somewhere better, somewhere safer to go, he’s more than welcome to come live with us.” Sirius added earnestly.

Draco looked like he might cry before he threw himself into his parents’ arms, causing each of them to let out a surprised ‘oof’.

“I love you guys. I’m so lucky to have you – we all are.” Draco said, though his words were muffled from his place in the crook of Sirius’ arm.

“We’re the lucky ones, Draco.” You insisted as you stamped a kiss to his head.

The parents and youngest kids stood on the platform and waved as they watched the train disappear.

“It’s so odd.” James commented quietly.

“What is?” Sirius asked.

“How life works.”

Sirius looked at his mate who was still watching after the long-gone train hoping he would clarify. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t, Sirius elbowed him.

“How’s that?”

James finally turned to Sirius and offered him a smile that seemed to portray a mixture of grief, pride, and love.

“Draco is Theo’s James.”

Sirius watched as you dried your face and went about applying your skincare.

“I can hear your mind turning from here, babe. What’re you thinking about?” You finally said, causing Sirius to look at your reflection only to find your eyes already on him.

“You’re sure you are okay? If Theo needs to move in with us, I mean.” Sirius asks.

Your movements paused as your eyebrows migrated to meet in the middle – bemusement painting your features.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“We sort of decided we weren’t going to have any more kids.” Sirius explained. You snorted in response as your turned to face him, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

“Sirius, as long as I don’t have to push anymore out, you can have as many kids as you want.”

Sirius smiled immediately at you. “You sure we don’t already have enough?” He asked

Your smile grew to match his. “What’s one more?”

#marauders come back be here #marauders era #marauders au #ask elle #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #jily #moonwater #the weasleys #Weasley twins #marauders fix it

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btsficsandsuch · 9 months

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Ps, Is It Okay If I Start Calling You Dad?

You have a daughter from a previous relationship. Yoongi has always treated her like his own. But when BTS becomes more popular he starts having to make sacrifices. Unfortunately, those come at the expense of your daughter.

You: Anna has a surprise for you for your birthday. Remember to be here by 5pm. Okay?

Yoongi: I’ll be there. I’m going to try and leave here by 4:30 at the latest so I’ll be on time.

You: You’re not going to get sucked into working all day and forget right? You promised her and I don’t want her heart to get broken.

Yoongi: Y/N I promise I’ll be there. I’m excited for this surprise. I know she’s been working hard all week.

You were currently sat in the dining room of Yoongi’s apartment reading the conversation from this morning over and over again. Yoongi promised he would be home by 5pm. Your daughter Anna had been planning a surprise dinner for Yoongi all week. She asked you take her to the store to pick out a new flannel for him and she decided on the menu you would cook which was filled with Yoongi’s favorites, she even made him a hand drawn card and on the inside she wrote him a small note but she had said she wanted it to be for Yoongi only so she wouldn’t let you read it.

Her biological father was never in the picture and after many guys rejected you after finding out you had a daughter you were so happy to find Yoongi. You had made it clear from the start that your daughter was part of the picture and would have to be part of his life if he wanted a relationship with you.

You were worried how he would handle idol life and being a father figure. At first things were great and he was able to easily balance everything. He always treated Anna like she was his own daughter. But as time went on and BTS became more popular he was having a harder time. He was beginning to miss dance recitals and basketball games. He missed more and more bedtime stories and wasn’t there the last time she fell and scraped her knee. You understood why this was happening but Anna at just 8 years old didn’t really grasp why Yoongi was all of a sudden spending less and less time with her.

You checked your phone and it was now 7pm. Well past the point of just being late. He had forgotten. You sent him another text but you knew it would go unanswered like the last four,

You: Yoongi where are you? Anna is getting upset.

Your daughter came and sat on the chair next to you, “He’s not coming is he?” You could see her lip start to shake. She was trying to be strong and not cry. “Why doesn’t he love me any more? Did I do something to make him mad?”, she asked letting a tear fall. You couldn’t bare to see her like this any longer and you’d had enough of Yoongi ignoring you. The least he could’ve done was call.

You grabbed your keys and started walking to the car, Anna’s card in hand. When you got to his studio you sat Anna on a couch just down the hall and told her to wait there for you. You were worried that your conversation with Yoongi would get ugly and you didn’t want her to hear that.

You let yourself into Yoongi’s studio using the passcode only you had. It was Anna’s birthday month and day and it made you scoff thinking of how he used to once be the greatest father but now you felt like the two of you were nothing to him. Yoongi didn’t even notice that you had entered the room. He was too busy with his work. You cleared your throat trying to get his attention. He started mumbling, “Not now. I’m busy.” You couldn’t roll your eyes any harder. “Yoongi it’s me. You know, the person you had promised you’d be home to by 5pm.”, you said with annoyance evident in your voice.

Yoongi spun the chair around,” Y/N why are you here? I’m really busy right now.” All you could do was laugh to try and stop the tears from falling. You spoke with a shaky voice, “You promised you’d be home to celebrate your birthday. Anna worked really hard and she’s devastated. She thinks you don’t love her any more and that she did something to make you mad.” Yoongi spins his chair around to go back to work, “That’s ridiculous Y/N. She knows I love her. I’m just busy. Tell her I’ll make it up to her.” You’re so angry you want to rip the headphones right off of his head. Your voice comes out a little louder than you had planned, “Why don’t you tell her Yoongi? I don’t think she knows any more. You’re never there lately. You don’t come home. You don’t go to any of her events.” You could feel the tears of frustration starting to fall, “Yoongi I’m tired of covering for you. I’m tired of lying and trying to make you sound like the good guy so that she doesn’t start to loose faith in you. You’re the only dad she’s ever known and she wanted to do something special for your birthday but you couldn’t eve-“.

Yoongi spins around suddenly cutting you off mid sentence. He walks over to you until he is inches away, “Y/N you don’t think I know that I’ve had to ignore her and miss things. You don’t think that hurts me every time. I have a job to do. A job that I worked hard for. A job I wanted long before either of you came into my life. I’m sorry that she’s hurt but I don’t have an obligation to be anything to her. She’s not my daughter.”

You feel sick. You thought he was different that all those other guys. You had been together for almost six years at this point. This wasn’t just a fling. Yoongi instantly knows he messed up, “Y/N I didn’t mean-“. It was your turn to cut him off, “No you meant it or you wouldn’t have said it.” You turn to leave but then you remember the card in your had. You turn around and shove the piece of paper onto his chest, “Here, your not daughter made you a birthday card.”

With that you turned around and pulled open the door storming out. Yoongi stood there watching. The last thing he saw was Anna standing in the hallway tears streaming down her little face. You took Anna home and tried your best to cheer her up. You ordered pizza and watched all of her favorite movies to try and get her mind off of what happened. You got her showered and into her pjs and you were tucking her into bed when she looked up at you, “Mom are we going to see Yoongi any more?” You didn’t really know what to say. At the moment you never wanted to see him again after what he said but not wanting to upset her any more you just smiled, “We’ll see baby.” Thankfully she accepted your simple answer and nodded off to sleep.

It was early in the morning and Yoongi was just getting home. He opened the door to the apartment and was greeted by balloons and streamers. The dinner you cooked was still sitting on the stove. A birthday cake in the fridge. Yoongi walked over to the table and sat down still holding the card you had thrown at him earlier. He hadn’t had the courage to open it until now. He looked down at the piece of paper. On the front a picture of a cat underneath the lettering ‘Happy Birthday Yoongi’. He opened it and began to read,

“Yoongi, thank you for being there for me and my mom. You make us so happy. I know you’ve been really busy but it’s okay. I know you still love me and I love you too. I think about you all the time and I hope you’re happy every day, not just on your birthday. Love Anna. PS, Is it okay if I start calling you dad? I’d really like to.”

Yoongi was sitting at his table crying. How could he have said those terrible things just because he was tired and stressed and upset because he always had to miss out on things. He knew he had to fix this but he also knew it was currently 2am and you were hopefully sleeping so it would have to wait until the morning.

It was 8am and you heard knocking on your door. Who could it be this early you thought as you swung open the door. You never would’ve guessed it would’ve been Yoongi. He handed you a bouquet of flowers, “I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean any of it. It’s not an excuse and I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never do anything like this ever again.” You crossed your arms after setting the flowers on the counter, “Im not the one you have to apologize to because I’m not the one who spent half the night crying.”

Yoongi’s heart broke at your words. He hated that he was the cause of her tears. He cleared his throat, “Can I talk to her?” “If she will let you but I don’t know if she wants anything to do with you right now.” Yoongi walked back to Anna’s room preparing for rejection. He lightly knocked on her door, “Anna it’s Yoongi. Can I come in?” Silence. “Anna do you want to talk?” Yoongi heard a soft voice, “Go away. I don’t want to see you.” Yoongi didn’t want to push it. He took out a piece of paper he had and slid it under her door. He walked out to where you were sitting, “She didn’t want to talk to me.” You scoffed, “Can you blame her? You’re her world Yoongi. Sometimes I think she cares more for you than me. And you broke her heart. You said she wasn’t your daughter even though you’ve been her dad for the last six years.”

Yoongi sighed, “I know Y/N. I’m the worst. I’m really trying. Now that things are so busy I don’t know how to manage it. But I promise I didn’t mean it. I love you and her more than anything. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You were about to speak when Anna came running out of her room with tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around Yoongi and continued to cry into his shirt. You were about to get angry at him when you saw the paper she was holding. Yoongi picked her up and held her in a hug while you took the paper from her. The paper clearly had Yoongi’s handwriting on it. The note said,

“Anna, thank you so much for everything. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had. I love the flannel. How did you know exactly which one I wanted? The food was really good too. I ate all of it even though it was a little salty (don’t tell your mom). I loved the birthday card too. I’m going to hang it in my studio so every time I see it I’ll think of you. I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy lately but it’s not your fault. I love you and your mom so much. I promise I’m going to do better because you’re the best daughter anyone could ever have and you deserve the world. Love Yoongi. PS, I’d love it more than anything if you called me dad. If you still want to that is.”

You looked up at Yoongi who was still hugging your daughter. You walked over and joined in. The three of you were now standing in your living room crying. “I better get started on breakfast.”, you said after a couple minutes trying to get things moving. You were mixing up some eggs when you looked up to see your daughter running over and grabbing Yoongi by the hand, “Dad come see my new blanket. I got it a couple weeks ago. It has a picture of Jimin on it.” You couldn’t help but laugh as Yoongi faked disgust. He looked down at your daughter,”Jimin? Really? What about me?” Anna giggled, “You might be my dad but he’s my bias.” Yoongi rolled his eyes as he followed her into her bedroom listing all the reasons she should have a blanket with his face and not Jimins.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts imagines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts suga #yoongi fanfic #bts angst #yoongi angst #yoongi imagine

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katelynnwrites · 9 months

Text

You Are In Love (True Love) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: none :)

word count: 2076

summary: you’re in love with feli and feli is in love with you, part two can be found here

a/n: in honor of 1989 (taylor’s version) being announced 10 days ago, i meant to write a short something but it ended up way longer than i thought it would so my bad for that lol

Morning, her place

Feli’s arm is slung around your waist, the familiar weight a source of great comfort to you.

You can feel her even breaths as puffs against your cheek.

Your girlfriend mumbles something indistinctly and she presses a kiss against the side of your forehead.

A smile grows on your face and you gently scratch her scalp.

There’s only a little bit of sunshine coming in through the crack in the blinds.

The early morning air is cool but it’s warm under the covers.

Warm enough that you never want to leave.

You have your person with you and that is always going to be more than enough for you.

Burnt toast, Sunday

Sunday is game day.

Felicitas always makes breakfast on game days. On every day really because when she doesn’t, you end up with something inedible.

Really, you should leave it to her from now on but you honestly thought you would be able to manage toast at least.

You’re staring at your burnt toast in disbelief when your girlfriend enters your kitchen,

She catches sight of your failed breakfast immediately.

The German player covers her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles but she’s more than unable to do so, holding onto her stomach as she laughs out loud.

‘Feli…’ You plead, cheeks getting redder by the second but she can’t.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She pants.

Breathlessly, she gives you a little kiss, seeking forgiveness.

‘I’m sorry.’ She mumbles and you reluctantly smile.

‘Don’t be. It is funny.’

Your girlfriend giggles again, kissing you again but this time with a lot more enthusiasm.

Glancing back at your burnt toast, you let out a soft laugh.

‘I really thought I was going to get it this time.’

There’s a mixture of sadness and wistfulness in your tone but you brush it off with another self deprecating laugh.

Felicitas kisses you gently, ‘It’s okay liebling. Now why don’t I make us some proper toast? I’ll teach you and you’ll get it soon I promise.’

You keep her shirt

You sneak your girlfriend’s shirt into your suitcase.

Feli’s been affectionately complaining that you’ve been stealing one too many of her shirts.

So reluctantly, you’d returned them all and she had thanked you with a long kiss.

But you can’t leave for the international break without at least one of her shirts.

Even if you’re not going to be wearing it, you want to sleep with it. You want to sleep with your girlfriend’s unique and comforting scent, especially when you are countries apart and she’s not there to hold you.

Your England roommate, Georgia, takes a photo of you sleeping, with your face buried into Felicitas’ shirt.

While she doesn’t have Feli’s number, her Bayern teammate, Sydney does.

Sydney forwards it to Feli immediately, teasing your girlfriend about what she could possibly have done to make you that smitten with her.

Felicitas herself doesn’t know the answer but she lets you keep all the shirts you want after that.

She keeps her word

The age gap was something that bothered Feli initially. The older German woman had been so hesitant to start a relationship with you, wondering if she was too old for you and if it would be better for you to date someone closer to your own age.

It had been her friend Sara who had knocked sense into her.

Quite literally, she had flicked Feli on her forehead and firmly told her that a six year age difference is not the end of the world.

Sara had made Felicitas see how lucky she is, to have the chance to love someone and the chance for that same someone to return that love.

Your girlfriend’s close friend had quietly asked her if she was willing to let you go, in spite of how deep her feelings ran for you just because she was afraid of what others would think.

And Felicitas had decided that she wasn’t willing to do that.

So she had shyly asked you to be her girlfriend and neither of you have looked back since.

Now Feli had agreed to a night out with the rest of the team but you couldn’t go due to your backlog of university work.

It isn’t easy to be in university while being a professional footballer.

You struggle a lot with math and you are so thankful for your girlfriend who unlike you finds it easy.

She loves math and even has a Master’s degree in a related field.

Felicitas had suggested she stay and help you out but you had insisted she go with the rest of the team and have a fun night out.

Your girlfriend had come up with another round of protests before leaving, feeling guilty about leaving you behind but you had waved her off.

You made her swear to enjoy herself without worrying about you.

Eventually Feli had relented, kissing your temple gently and promising to be back by eleven so that she can help you with your work.

After your girlfriend leaves, you work through several of your assignments productively until when you reach a particularly hard question which you procrastinate by deciding to give yourself a little break.

You scroll through Instagram, inadvertently coming across the various stories your teammates have posted, of the good time they are having.

You see Felicitas on Lena’s story, see the way she’s smiling and begin to doubt that she will be back at the time she promised you she would be.

Therefore it comes as a complete surprise to you when you hear her key turning in the lock, fifteen minutes before eleven.

‘Hey liebling.’ She greets, planting a kiss onto the top of your head.

‘Hi.’ You mumble, trying to keep your shock hidden.

‘Do you still need my help?’

‘Yeah.’ You nod blankly.

‘Okay. Let me just take a quick shower and then I’ll be right with you okay?’

‘Okay.’ You answer, still in a daze.

Felicitas kisses your cheek and then disappears into her bedroom.

You refocus back on your work this time with a bright smile on your face.

And for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts

Felicitas pulls you closer to her, burying her nose into your hair.

She breathes in deeply and then reaches for your hand so that she can intertwine her fingers with yours.

‘What’s on your mind?’ You whisper, kissing the back of her hand.

Your girlfriend stays silent for a moment and then softly asks, ‘Move in with me.’

‘What?’ You breathe.

Felicitas sits up and you follow suit.

Your girlfriend gently rubs her thumb over the inside of your wrist.

‘You spend almost all of your time here. We spend every night together. Practically all your things are here, from your football boots to your books. I love you and I know you love me.’

‘Are you sure? Because I know you hesitated to date me. Feli I’m not sure I can take it if you decide to back out after I move in.’

Your heart is pounding in your chest but Felicitas simply places a delicate kiss onto your pulse point.

‘I’m sorry I ever made you doubt my commitment to our relationship. Believe me, I regret my hesitation every day but I promise you that I love you. My heart is yours and yours alone.’

‘I love you too Felicitas.’ You quietly say.

It’s not the answer your girlfriend is expecting so she takes it as rejection, her shoulders slumping with disappointment.

‘But you’re not ready are you? That’s okay…I can wait till you are and in the meantime, I’ll do everything I can to show you that I’m not going to leave you-’

You cut her off, pulling Feli into a passionate kiss.

‘I’d love to move in with you.’

Letting go of all your past anxieties, you repeat yourself, ‘I’d love to move in with you.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

One step, not much but it said enough

‘Here you go.’ Felicitas says, a bright and clear joy shining from her eyes.

She hands you the spare key to her apartment and you close your hand around it eagerly.

Your girlfriend laughs happily and kisses you excitedly.

You’re just as happy to reciprocate the gesture.

You kiss on sidewalks

‘Liebling?’

‘What?’ You ask, wondering why your girlfriend has suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

‘You have a little something here.’

Felicitas points to the corner of your mouth and you hand her the ice cream you have been eating so that you can wipe your mouth.

‘Better?’ You ask and Feli smirks, now holding two ice creams.

‘No.’ She states unhelpfully before licking your ice cream and you roll your eyes at her.

Your girlfriend shrugs, taking a tiny step forward so that she’s right in front of you.

‘Feli?’

‘Oops.’ She whispers, pressing her lips onto yours.

She tastes like her coffee flavoured ice cream and after she pulls away, you blush.

Felicitas grins and passes you your ice cream back.

‘There wasn’t anything on my face was there?’

Your girlfriend simply shrugs again and you laugh, reaching out to hold her hand.

You fight and you talk

The thing about moving into Feli’s apartment is that when you both get into an argument, there’s nowhere for either of you to go.

Especially this late at night.

So you leave your girlfriend in the bedroom and make up your mind to sleep on the couch.

She doesn’t follow you out and you refuse to go back into the bedroom.

Felicitas has always been an early riser but you’re surprised to find her sitting beside you when you wake up.

‘I’m sorry.’ She whispers.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes before looking at her.

‘I’m sorry too. I get where you’re coming from because we have had such packed schedules lately.’ You apologise.

‘I should never have said you didn’t want to spend time with me. I know you do. Spending time with your family is important and I’m glad that the short break we have coming up gives you the chance to do that.’ Your girlfriend explains.

‘You’re right, I love spending time with you and I love spending time with my family.’

‘I know. It wasn’t fair to make you choose. I’ll go with Sara and the girls. They’re planning a weekend trip and I’m sure they won’t mind me tagging along.’

‘Or you could come to England with me? That way you get to spend time with me while we visit my family.’ You quietly ask.

Your girlfriend blinks.

‘I’d love that.’

One night she wakes, strange look on her face

It’s a kind of an off feeling that you have, like something isn’t right.

It is the reason you wake up, in the early hours of the morning.

‘Felicitas?’ You whisper, sitting up immediately when you see that not only is she not sound asleep beside you but sitting at the bay window across the room and gazing out.

She turns to look at you, her expression a mixture of contentment and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on.

‘What are you doing up liebling?’

‘The bed’s too empty without you.’ You admit and your girlfriend softens, crossing the room quickly to press a kiss against your cheek.

‘Why are you up?’

Feli shrugs lightly, ‘I came to a realisation.’

‘Yeah?’ You prompt, leaning into her when she sits beside you.

Pauses, then says, you’re my best friend

Your girlfriend smiles gently before confessing, ‘You’re my best friend.’

She says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world and it makes your heart fill with more love than you ever thought possible.

For Felicitas though, it isn’t.

‘Not in the way Pauline is. You’re a different kind of best friend. It’s like you make every room you walk into brighter. Your laugh is my favourite sound and I just want to spend the rest of my life hearing it.’

‘Feli…’ You breathe.

‘You’re my best friend too. I love you.’

Your girlfriend gasps quietly, eagerly pulling you by your shirt towards her so that she can kiss you.

And you knew what it was, she is in love

Being in love is different than simply loving someone. You learn that difference because of Felicitas.

In the way she kisses you, you know she feels it too. She is in love with you.

German Translation:

liebling - love

#feli rauch #felicitas rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen imagine #gerwnt x reader #gerwnt imagine #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 months

Text

New Beginnings

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: New city. New job. New school. New apartment,. New neighbors. New beginnings.

Square Filled: choose your own au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is a new start for you. New city. New apartment. New neighbors. New job. A fresh start from your old life. Growing up, you’ve always been a small-town girl with hopes of moving to a big city to chase her dreams. Back home, everyone knew everyone’s business. Like when Shelly from church was caught having an affair with the pastor. Her husband found out that day and both of them had to leave town to avoid the scrutiny of everyone else. Or like the time when your sister got pregnant and only told a small group of people only to go to work the next day and people knew.

Small-town folk aren’t for everyone which is why you left while you could. The only problem is that all your family is back home. You know no one in Quantico, Virginia. You guess that’s the best part about it. You can reinvent yourself and create a whole new life separate from what you’ve known.

Before moving to Virginia, you got yourself enrolled in night school for graphic design since you’ve always wanted to be a designer. You’ve done some work for your town like making websites for businesses and making some ads for smaller companies but you want to know more so you can do bigger and better things.

Tomorrow, you’ll scout the city and find a coffee shop to make your second home, find the nearest grocery store, etc. Right now, all you’re focused on is getting all your boxes out of the moving truck so you can return it before the deadline. You’re doing it by yourself but you don’t have a lot to do. You never had a lot when you left your hometown but it’s still a lot for one person to do.

It takes you all day to get everything inside your house, and the only thing you’re able to unpack is your bedframe and mattress. It’s going to take all week to get most everything set up which is fine because night school doesn't start for another two weeks.

You live in a building that sits in a circle of other buildings with a huge courtyard in the middle. The courtyard consists of a dog park, a pool, a volleyball set, and some outdoor furniture where people can sit and eat. Your building is right across from another so you can see into people’s apartments if their curtains are open.

Your phone rings and you answer it while admiring the other buildings.

“Hey, mom.”

“Y/N! Did you get in okay?”

“Yeah, I just set up my bed. I’ll start unpacking tomorrow.”

“I’m sad you’re so far from us but I’m happy for you. Does that make sense?” she chuckles. “Anyway, your dad and I will come visit as soon as he gets this new promotion. He’ll get some time off and we can always use the vacation.”

“Yeah, by then, I’ll have seen some places we can go to. You like history and Virginia is a history-rich state.”

“Okay, I just wanted to know if you got in safe. Your dad and I are going out with the folks from church. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The building across from yours is close enough to where you could communicate with another resident if you shouted but you’re not going to disturb others, especially at night. The sun is still up but is quickly going down, leaving the sky with pretty colors. There is a young man sitting on his small balcony with a book in his hands minding his own business. Every apartment has a small balcony where people can sit and enjoy the fresh air, but most of them use it for storage.

The young man runs his fingers down the pages of the book and flips through the book at a shocking speed. Is he really reading that fast? He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up and makes eye contact with you. You give him a small wave to which he returns before going back to reading.

You look at the boxes inside your room and see a label on one of them that reads: ARTS AND CRAFTS. You open the box to see thick small poster boards you were using for a project back home. Next to them are your markers so you grab the black one and a handful of poster boards. You write “Hi, my name is Y/N” on one of them before going back outside.

The man looks up just as you hold up your poster board for him to see. You wrote the letters in a thick font so he is able to read them from where he’s at. He reads what you have and leaves the balcony to go back inside his apartment. The smile is lost from your face at the thought of making him uncomfortable but then he walks back out with poster boards of his own. He writes something down on his and shows it to you.

Hi. My name is Spencer.

You like reading?

I love it.

You new here?

No, been here 13 years. You new?

Yes, I came from Kansas.

Job?

Graphic Designer. You?

FBI.

Sounds exotic.

Spencer smiles at this. Some of his nighttime preparations are to read for an hour before bed, and he was at the forty-five-minute mark when you two started talking.

I have to go. Talk tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

Spencer packs up his poster boards and heads back inside, and you follow suit a few minutes later. You’re going to need to buy more poster boards if you want to continue talking to him across the courtyard. Tomorrow comes and you end up finding a grocery store, a coffee shop, and a place that sells a lot of poster boards.

Spencer must have a day job because you didn’t see him at all while you were unpacking. You started with the kitchen and barely finished with it by the time Spencer got back from his job as an FBI agent. Wow, imagine that. A real-life FBI agent. You’ve only seen them in movies and TV shows so it's kind of cool you get to say you know someone in that field.

You sit on your balcony and wait for him to come out. Ten minutes go by and you see the light in his place turn on. Five more later, he walks out on his balcony with poster boards in hand. He doesn’t look too good. Yesterday, he had a natural glow about him but today, he has a sort of sadness about him. Still, he’s out here talking to you because he enjoys your company even though you’re in separate buildings.

You okay?

Rough case.

You want to talk?

Can’t. Open investigation. Of course. Duh. He flips the poster board over and scribbles something else on it. How was your day?

Good. Just school. I graduate Fall 2027.

Field of study?

Graphic Design.

Anything I’d see of yours?

You grin and write down a website you helped design before showing it to him. He takes one look at it and types it on his phone. He admires your work and thinks it’s amazing work. You have real talent.

I like it. You’re talented.

Even from where you’re at, you can see how sad he is. You’re not sure what he’s dealt with today or what he is going through, but you hope to make it better at least a little bit. You have to use two posterboards for this to get your message across.

Don’t let your job strip you of who you are. No job is worth it if you’re losing yourself.

You got Spencer to smile.

Same to you.

As the days progress, you and Spencer make it a nightly routine of talking to each other through poster boards. During the day, you’re unpacking boxes and getting your home ready while Spencer is at work dealing with the worst of the worst. His job isn’t easy but seeing you every night lifts his spirits.

That is until he stops showing up. You gave him a couple of days without bothering him since he might be caught up in something for work, but after seeing his light every night without him coming to the balcony, you know something is wrong. You don’t know who he is fully, but you do know that he would come talk to you if he was feeling up for it.

“Any sights of your secret lover?” one of your best friends, Marcy, says over the phone.

“No, he’s still held up in his apartment,” you say and look out the window to his.

“I bet he’s not even an FBI agent. Maybe he lied to you,” Rebecca, your other friend, says.

“I don’t think so. Maybe he just needs some time alone. I don’t know a lot about him. He can only fit so much on small poster boards.”

“It’s giving You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift,” Marcy chuckles.

“I think you should go over there and talk to him face-to-face.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with Bec. It’s not like he’s your next-door neighbor. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to see him in passing.”

“True,” you bite your lower lip. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Let us know how it goes,” Bec smirks.

“Oh, I will. Wish me luck.”

“Luck!” both girls say at the same time before hanging up.

You turn back to Spencer’s apartment and see the light peeking through the curtains. You count the number of floors he’s off the ground and the number of apartments he’s at from the wall so you know where to start. You’re not sure what you’re going to do when you get there but you’ll think of something on the spot.

You have some cookies left over from when you made some a few days ago, so you box those up and make your way over to the building across from yours. Your keycard works for this building even though you’re not a resident in it because you’re a resident overall. Once inside his building, you make your way up to the fifth floor and the tenth apartment from the wall.

Here goes nothing.

You knock twice on the door and wait for someone to answer it. It might not even be his apartment but you’ll try all of them if you have to. A few moments later, Spencer opens the door with a confused look on his face. When he sees you, his eyes widen slightly.

“Wow,” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re more beautiful in person.”

Your cheeks heat up at his compliment.

“I brought you some cookies. I hope you’re doing okay. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Work has just been… yeah, it’s not fun sometimes.”

“I can only imagine which is why I brought some cookies.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You walk inside and immediately notice all the poster boards he’s been using to communicate with you. He’s saved every single one of them and that brings a smile to your face. You never thought you’d meet someone this quickly after moving to a new city, but you’re glad you did.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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gaystayzennie · 2 months

Text

I Did Everything I Was Supposed To Do (pt.1)

Haechan x male reader

Summary: Finals week turns out to be the final breaking point for y/n, but luckily Haechan is around right when you need him

Warnings: fluff, some angst: homophobia, allusions to panic disorder, stress

“Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot about the final on Monday. Fuck fuck fuck” Y/n cursed under his breath as he walked as fast as he could toward the entrance to his boyfriend’s place. Y/n had a million things to do the next few days already, and now he had a final to cram for on top of it all. “One thing at a time” he told himself knowing it’s what Hyuck would tell him if they were together right now. He didn’t really listen to this advice of course… especially coming from his own mouth instead of his cute adorable boyfriend.Oh God. I wish he was here so bad. But Haechan was still at the dance studio and would be for the next several hours. That’s why y/n was even entering Haechan’s apartment right now in the first place; Daegal needed to be taken out while Haechan was gone.

He HAD to have his stupid extra long dance rehearsal today of course. On the day where he already had to finish a ton of assignments and now cram for a test. Y/n quickly threw his backpack on the ground and sprinted over to daegal scooping her up before she even knew what was happening. While he waited for Daegal to do her business and walk around a little, y/n got back to planning his study schedule in his head. If I start by studying for the exam… I can trade every 45 minutes from cramming to working on the lab report for my other class. Fuck! That depends on whether the others ever filled in their data. Ok so I’ll save that for the end and work on the PowerPoint instead even though it’s due the longest from now. As long as I cut myself off at around 1:00 am, that should be enough sleep to take the exam at 9:30 the next day. It was going to be a rough night, but y/n decided he’d just have to work away and hope for the best.

Y/N went back inside and scooped his backpack up again to go work in Hyuck’s bedroom. He found the smell of his boyfriend clinging to the room to be extremely comforting and he hoped it would help him stay calm and focused on his work. He opened up his laptop to the lecture notes for the exam and began skimming them for any confusing topics that jumped out at him. What the? I only know like 2 of these concepts?? I’m screwed. Y/N new from plenty of old tests that it would only make things worse if he worried about it now, and feeling himself start to panic, he decided to work on the PowerPoint instead. He figured he should just finish all his other assignments so that he could then spend the entire rest of the night studying.

An hour into working on the PowerPoint y/n’s phone buzzed. He opened it to find a message from one of his lab partners that read “hey y/n I’m really sorry but I’m actually boarding a plane right now so I’m not gonna be able to finish my part of the lab. Maybe you can ask [partner name 2] for her data? I think she got mine down too.”

Y/n: “I’ll ask her.”

Partner 1: “KK.”

“Gotta go, sorry again!”

Partner 2: “Shit. I don’t have her values either y/n. I’m pretty sure that part of the lab was online though, so one of us can just do the lab at home right now.”

“Oh wait actually, I have to take both of my finals on Monday. It’s due Tuesday right? So I won’t have time to do her part. Y/n any chance you can do it?”

Y/n: “ I only have one midterm tomorrow… I guess I can do it if no one else can.”

Partner 2: “Ur the best bro! Tysm <3”

Y/n: …

Fuck me. How am I supposed to do [p/n 1]’s work for them on top of everything else? Y/n barely had enough time to do all his work as it was. And he had done all of HIS work on the lab already too. He thought he’d just quickly analyze his partner’s data and then turn it in… but no. This is totally unfair. I have more work than either of them, and I’m doing their work for them too on top of it all. Y/n’s eyes grew misty for a second threatening to turn into tears, but y/n shook his head hard and the urge to cry went away for now. He had to get back to— wait no. He needed to cook dinner. With no Hyuck home to cook dinner like usual, he was going to starve if he didn’t make something for himself. Standing up quickly y/n smacked his arm on Hyuck’s dresser skinning it in the process. Great. Now he was bleeding. And it had gotten on his white shirt too. Except it wasn’t his shirt, it was his boyfriend’s shirt that he had borrowed. Y/n was this close to screaming in frustration, but stripped off the shirt quickly and made his way to the bathroom to clean the spot before it stained. And of course, he needed to throw it in the washer if he really didn’t want it to stain, and that meant he should really just do all of Haechan’s laundry now. So heart now racing in a slight panic, y/n gathered the laundry and started the cycle as quickly as possible so that he could start on dinner.

Opting for the most time efficient option, y/n grabbed some pasta and left it to boil while he got back to work for a few minutes. There sure was a lot on his mind now between the pasta he was cooking, Daegal (who he suddenly remembered needed to be fed as well), the lab report, the final exam in a day, Haechan’s laundry that still needed to be dried, folded, and put away, and the millions of other things he needed to get done before going home to his family at the end of the week. And the trip home would be another ordeal that required a lot of planning and prep work. Y/n had a lot of problems at home due to his conservative family and their recent discovery that he was dating Haechan. But that’s silly. I shouldn’t worry about that right now. And it’s not like it’s anything new knowing they all disapprove of my “lifestyle choice”. That’s old news, and I need to focus on this. Y/n went back to his multitasking and eventually got Daegal fed, the laundry in the dryer, and got a good portion of the lab done.

At 10:30 y/n finally felt satisfied with the PowerPoint and had finished collecting most of the data his partner was supposed to do. So he went to wash all the dishes he had left out at dinner and put away the leftovers as a quick study break. He smiled at the pasta he’d saved for Haechan knowing it would make his boyfriend’s day to find food ready for him after a long night of dance practice. When he walked back into Hyuck’s bedroom to finish the lab, he noticed several notifications on his phone again.

Mom: Hey you’re coming home on Wednesday right? You’ll be done with finals week by then?

Dad: Hey y/n you better have a gift ready for your mother when you come home on Tuesday. She’s still pretty upset about Haechan, so you should really try to make her feel better.

Bro: Dude mom and dad are pissed cuz dad thought you were coming home Tuesday after your final, and then mom told him you said Wednesday. So he flipped and said you were probably staying longer to fuck Haechan or something

Y/N: I told them both Wednesday. I AM spending Tuesday night at Hyuck’s place. But I just wanted a night to relax before immediately coming home

Don’t tell them that… just say I’m busy or something

Bro: sorry bro, that’s not gonna work. You better come home Tuesday or they’re gonna make the trip absolute hell for you

Y/N: fuck ok fine, I’ll make it work

Y/n was getting more and more stressed by the second. And now he wouldn’t even get any sort of buffer between finals week and seeing his family. And fuck he had that feeling in his head- that feeling of anxiety setting in- making him slightly dizzy and his chest tight. Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna have a panic attack. I know it’s coming. Should I call Hyuck? He should be on his way home by now anyway right? Ok fuck. Yeah he should call his boyfriend. Maybe he could talk him through it. He prayed he was right and Hyuck would actually answer his phone, and to his relief, Hyuck answered right away.

“y/n! I’m on my way home and practice went pretty well! I think the show is going to be really good this quarter. Have you made dinner yet? And how’s the studying going?” He was so excited to hear his y/n ie’s voice on the phone. “Hyuck.” Y/n felt the lump in his throat form and wasn’t able to get out the rest of your words as he broke into tears. “Y/n? What’s wrong love? Are you ok?” No words came out of y/n as he began to hyperventilate. Haechan could hear y/n’s shallow breathing and put together that he must be having a panic attack. He assured y/n he’d be there in the next ten minutes and stayed on the phone with him until he rushed through the door exactly ten minutes later, Immediately making his way over to y/n huddled in the corner of his bed crying and hyperventilating. From past experience he knew y:n liked him to stay close until he was able to calm down and talk.

Haechan slowly climbed into the bed, sliding his body between your back and the bed frame, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting bear hug. “I’ve got you y/n. I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n began shaking in Haechan’s arms unable to fully process what was happening with his mind completely taken over by panic at this point. Haechan rested his chin on y/n’s soft hair and hummed a song. Y/n did his best to focus on the light vibrations on his head from Haechan’s tune. “I’ll just talk about my day a little too ok y/n? Squeeze my hand if you’d like that.” Y/n’s eyes remained squeezed tight, and his body was still trembling, but he gives Haechan’s hand a light squeeze back. “Ok love. Let’s see… I saw Jungwoo today! I know he’s your favorite dance major right? He was really cool to watch, you were right! He might even be more charismatic than me” he teased. Y/n didn’t laugh out loud or acknowledge him, but he appreciated Hyuck trying to lighten the mood. “I spent most of the night working on my duet with Mark though. They have us doing this really acrobatic hiphop song and it’s a lot of work. I’ve memorized all the footwork though. It was kind of funny watching Mark struggle with it more than me for once honestly. Next time you should tag along and watch. When it’s not finals week of course!” He adds, giving a small pec to your forehead.

“Is that why you’re stressed by the way? Finals?” He doesn’t really expect y/n to give any responses yet. But much to his surprise you shake your head in response. “No. More.” Y/n says quietly, starting to breath a little more evenly. “What else baby? What’s stressing you out.”

“Everything!” Y/n exclaims. “So much. TOO much” y/n squeaks out bursting into more tears. Haechan gently shushes you and squeezes his arms tighter around your body and begins planting little kisses all over your head to comfort you. “It’s ok y/n. It’s ok.” Hyuck can feel y/n’s body body relax a tiny bit despite his sobs. Y/n spins around melting into Haechan and burying his face in his chest

To be continued…

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atlafan · 5 months

Text

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

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“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic rec #1963

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littleguyconnor · 4 months

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I’ve started over on this painting like 4 times already and I want to take a a break. I am going to do a character study of Medic because he’s the one I feel people get the most wrong. (I’ll try and be as factual as possible but my own interpretation of him will be in there too, it’s inevitable, yadda yadda)

Let’s start with his hunting his old team with the classic mercs, since that’s when we’re first reunited with him.

It was not done out of betrayal.

I want to reference a piece of dialogue that I think showcases his entire mindset about it very well. When Classic Heavy asks if hunting down his old team will be a problem, Medic replies by saying “A chance to test my latest triumphs against my earliest experiments? No, that won’t be a problem at all.”

Look at the phrasing of that. There isn’t a single hint of malice or ill intent in it. His earliest experiments. His teammates that he’s spent years building up, improving, trying everything he knows and doesn’t to make them the best mercenaries he can. Against his latest triumphs. He wants to see how far he can take his practice, if all his work can hold up against something he knows is strong. It’s like how engineering students stand on their bridges to make sure it holds. Sure, it might break, but now they, Medic in this case, know what to improve on. Is it a very literal and playing-with-life kind of method? Yes. But that’s all it is. There isn’t any underlying reasoning, he thinks very literally and does things the same way. We also know this is true because he says it himself when Sniper confronts him about it, explaining that he was genuinely happy to see them and that his facial expression just came across differently to Sniper. Now, another thing I want to talk about on this topic is why he joined the Classic team in the first place. In the same panel I referred to last time there’s a very specific phrasing CHeavy uses that I want to highlight.

“I swear to god, if you put a single uterus in my men…”

Medic was never considered part of the team, and he knows this. He actually uses this to advantage. He’s an impermanent addition, and thus inconsequential. He’s using them as guinea pigs and that is what’s done out of malice. He’s being mistreated and obviously not considered anything of worth, so he’s going to retaliate in a very Medic fashion. This man is not a pushover, and of everything, I want to get that across the most.

Medic is extremely strong, both physically and mentally. He’s able to hold out for a considerable amount of time against CHeavy throwing him around. The thing that ends up killing him is a cheap shot from a gun. He’s also witty enough to outsmart Satan himself. (I don’t think there’s really anything else to say on that one.) This man is so intelligent and knows when people are using him from the second they start, and he plays along with it. He doesn’t even necessarily act dumb either. It’s just that he’s so eccentric and personable that people mistake him as someone easily to manipulate and end up getting ripped apart from the inside.

Branching off from this point: Medic is a genuinely kind person. He’s just weird. And I mean that in the most professional way possible. His intentions are good and done out of a passion for medicine, curiosity, and respect for his team. There’s a reason he spends so much time improving them. Part of it is just the morbid curiosity and the satisfaction that comes from fulfilling that, but it’s also because he wants his team to win. He wants them to be the best versions of themselves, literally. His odd and eccentric demeanor just makes his actions come out a little morbid and frightening. But he loves people. And he cares. Above all, remember, he’s a doctor. And it’s a doctor’s job to help people.

Now onto his relationship with Heavy. What I’m going to be talking about with this leans a little more on the head canon side, but I don’t think it’s too far off from what could actually be canon.

Whether they’re friends, lovers or something else isn’t relevant. Regardless of what they are, they have an incredibly strong bond built on solid foundations. Respect is the main one.

Medic’s teammates seem to have a strange disregard for him. It’s the same treatment they give Pyro, although there’s less infantilization and more flippant-ness. I don’t think it’s done out of meanness, more just so that he’s outwardly really freakish and open about experimenting on them with dubious ethics. They care about him, he’s a vital part of the team, it’s just.. less enthusiastic. But with Heavy, that dynamic changes completely. Heavy respects him so much, and likes him genuinely enough to see past the thing everyone else gets hung up on. And it’s because Medic is the only one he’s met that is capable of outsmarting bullets. Heavy respects Medics genuine intelligence and skill, and because Heavy is extremely smart too, they get along really well. And Medic cares so much for Heavy. I think that as a child, he grew up very estranged and “othered” for his interests and awkward social skills. There haven’t been many people in his life who are willing to get close to him, or really, let him get close to them. And there’s a kind of refuge he takes in Heavy for that. A mutual understanding and care for each other.

And yes, Medic is an awkward person! Just not in the sense that people typically are, and I think that is such an important part of his character. He isn’t good at expressing empathy in a socially acceptable way as I’ve discussed previously, is overly literal, blunt, and genuinely a little oblivious sometimes to the tone of the conversation or of his own words. And instead of trying to resolve that, he’s just stopped caring about it all together because he knows he can be himself. It’s why his job with the Classic Mercs failed. They wanted him to be something he’s not, and Medic wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of treatment!

#team fortress two #team fortress #tf2 #medic tf2 #tf2 medic #character analysis #long post #i talk a lot. I’m so serious when I put that tag

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k-evans-reads · 1 year

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In Living Color

Chapter 8

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,256

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: Sexual content. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI! We block minors!

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 14th, 2021

Nat rubbed her eyes with a yawn as she listened to the phone ring, hoping she wouldn’t wake him before he had planned on getting up for the evening’s night shoots. As the call continued to ring she contemplated hanging up and just texting him instead, but Chris answered. “Happy day after your birthday,” she laughed, smiling widely as he chuckled, his voice raspy with sleep. “Feel old yet?”

“Based on how sore I’ve been all week, I think I’ve felt old for a while now,” he groaned, making Nat laugh a little, although she knew it was the truth. He’d been hard at work the past few weeks, busy with stunt sequences she couldn’t even picture in her mind based on the vague descriptions he’d shared. “Turning forty is just the nail in the coffin.”

She tutted, telling him, “Well you don’t look a day over thirty-nine.”

He scoffed, his voice unconvincing as he replied, “Thanks, that really makes me feel a lot better, Nat.”

“How was your birthday?”

“It was fine, just was on set all day. I got to talk to Ma and my sisters and my nephews and niece sang to me which was fuckin’ cute,” he informed her, but then paused as he yawned. “Then I also got this really incredible drawing of Buzz Lightyear with Dodger in place of Sox.”

She smirked, having been waiting for his reaction to that gift in particular. “Oh did you?” She asked, her voice plain.

“Yeah, this really talented artist I know made it for me,” he played along. “I think she might know that I love handmade gifts, and this is my favorite gift I’ve gotten in a long time.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the praise, wanting nothing more than to be there with him, especially on his special week. “I’m really glad you liked it,” she told him quietly.

Chris’ voice was anything but teasing when he interjected, “I like you a lot more.”

Nat sighed, the longing only intensifying the more he spoke and shared what he’d been feeling. “...I wish it wasn’t another month until I see you,” she murmured, unable to stop imagining that day in July when he finally arrived back in California to see her.

“Me too, Nat,” he whispered back, the rasp in his voice sending a chill down her spine. “So what are you doing today?”

“Just going to work. I’m meeting with some of the animators and they’re going to show me some of the chunks of Lightyear that’s done,” she shrugged to herself before she yawned quietly, the early hour something she wasn’t used to lately. “I’ll send you some videos.”

“You better!” He laughed, and it did nothing to quell the emotions she felt. “I was wondering if you were going in early… normally you’re still asleep now.”

But Nat shook her head, more to herself than to anyone, as she unplugged her phone from the charger and moved to lay on her back again. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just call you instead,” she informed him.

“I’m glad you did. I’m still in bed too,” he mumbled, then paused while Nat stayed quiet and didn’t make any noise of acknowledgement. “...You okay, Nattie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she explained, then bit her lip before she decided to just go for it, not being able to hold back her emotions any longer. “It’s just that it’s cold in bed and I’m alone and I’m not getting touched by you and I miss your kisses, and I miss you.”

She could hear his sharp intake of breath and a muffled sound as the blankets moved around him, then Chris told her with a low voice, “There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now than have my hands on you.”

She all but shivered then, her voice unsteady as her longing turned into desire. “That makes two of us,” she replied.

“I wish I was in bed next to you right now, Nattie,” he told her, his voice clear as she switched the call to speaker, putting the phone down on the bed next to her “I wish I could hold you tight and kiss every inch of you.”

“Chris…”

He was quiet, and the only sound that filled the room were Nat’s deep pants until he finally asked, “...Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Nattie, I want you to touch yourself for me,” he instructed, his voice dangerously low as Nat’s fingers moved instinctively. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of you.”

She nearly whimpered at a twist of her finger, unable to focus on anything except the sound of his voice and the touch of her hand. “I wish you were the one touching me,” she admitted with a whine.

He chuckled, and Nat could nearly picture the devilish smirk on his face when he told her, “That makes two of us.”

Her head flew back against the pillow, jaw dropping as she let out a moan then said, “I can’t wait until you’re back.”

“I want to be with you right fuckin’ now,” he muttered, pausing as he shifted on the other end of the call, then told her, “I want to be the one touchin’ you, Nattie.”

She couldn’t catch her breath for a few moments, feeling something build inside her. “You will be,” she whimpered as she slipped another finger inside of herself.

“I wanna be kissin’ you and suckin’ on your neck that had you moaning that last night,” he rambled, voice sending waves of electricity through Nat and spurring her on. “I want my fingers to be the ones inside you. I wanna grab that pretty ass of yours, Nattie.”

“Chris,” she moaned, unable to stop the nearly incoherent sounds from pouring out of her.

He groaned on the other end of the call, silent until he ground out, “You like thinking of me touchin’ you, Nattie?”

“God, yes,” she replied, wishing so badly that she could touch him, picturing the tattooed chest in her mind, with the chain dangling between his pecs as his hands moved over and in her.

A low, dangerous chuckle spilled from his lips before he admitted, “I can’t wait until I get to have my hands all over you. I’m going to need to take my time with you when I get back.”

She whimpered as she hit that spot inside of her, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before she instructed, “You better.”

“God, your moans are so pretty, Nat. I’m goin’ crazy thinking of you laying in bed touchin’ yourself for me,” he moaned himself, his voice sounding strained as he panted. “Fuck, Nattie, I want you so bad.”

“I just,” she moaned, unable to catch her breath. “I need, oh!”

“I know you’re close, Nattie. Keep touchin’ yourself for me,” he all-but ordered, Nat following his instructions without hesitation as her fingers moved, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until she hit her peak. “I can’t wait until those are my fingers inside you makin’ you moan like this. Can’t fuckin’ wait to memorize the way you look coming apart for me.”

But Nat couldn’t even respond for a moment as she layed in bed panting, her lungs trying to catch her breath while she felt her body relaxing into the sheets as she came down from her high. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, just relishing in the feelings washing over her body until Chris’ low voice asked from the other end of the line, “Feelin’ good, Nattie?”

“That was a good way to wake up,” she couldn’t help but laugh, running a hand through her sweat-soaked curls.

He huffed, letting out a small sigh as he stretched. Nat ached again to be next to him, to feel his muscles behind her as he agreed, “You’re telling me.”

“Chris?” She asked, voice small. She paused until he hummed, then told him, “I really miss you.”

Chris let out another laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as he said, “I could tell.”

“That’s not what I meant, asshole,” she rolled her eyes, listening fondly at his laughter. “I mean that I really just… miss you.”

“I miss you too, Nattie. I really do,” he assured her, his tone serious this time.

She listened to his breathing, almost able to pretend he was there next to her if she closed her eyes. “Only one more month,” she said, more to herself than anything.

“One more month.”

Chris listened to what Joe was telling him before the director stepped back up to the monitor, watching through the last scene again. The directors motioned for the actors to take fifteen while they got ready to rerun the last take, so Chris gladly took the chance to sit down.

It’d been a long few weeks away from home – away from everyone except for Scott – and while he was having fun on his first big project since he left Marvel, he was still finding it hard to get back into the rhythm of shooting after traveling so much, and after his unexpected break in 2020.

With a quiet thanks to Scott as his brother – and assistant, as much as Scott hated the title – handed him a water bottle, he listened as Scott quietly told him, “Hey Chris, Nat texted me and said she’s trying to get a hold of you.”

“Okay, I’ll call her,” he nodded, a little confused at what was up. Nat always respected when he was working, careful to not text more than once or twice without a reply when he was on set. But to go through Scott made him worried, although he did remind himself that it was likely just something funny or lighthearted… or Nat thinking about earlier. “Do you have my phone?”

Scott nodded, digging into his pocket and pulling out Chris’ old iPhone. “Yeah here you go,” he paused, handing the phone to Chris. He was quiet as Chris turned on the screen, taking in the several missed calls and notifications from her. “She left you a voicemail too.”

He thanked Scott and got up, heading off the set to near where the trailers were. He quickly dialed her number, thankful when she answered and told her, “Hi Nattie.”

“Hey I’m sorry to bug you while you’re working, I’m just so upset,” she explained, pausing and leading Chris to worry even more. “I went to the gym and my car got stolen.”

He honestly couldn’t have even dreamed of that being the subject of her displeasure, instead imagining a shitty work day or some stupid argument with her sisters. But he realized there was no way Nat could even get by for a week with no car, especially with her schedule. To get a rideshare onto the Pixar Campus would be challenging enough, and for someone like Nat, it’d be a cause of anxiety. But his fears didn’t stop there, instead he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that someone hurt her, even indirectly, and took something from her. She took so much pride in that car, loving it so much, and it was something he always associated with her – that orange SUV was literally the love of her life. “What?!”

“My car got stolen,” she repeated, sniffling before she cursed to herself. “I was at the gym and when I came out there was broken glass on the ground and my car was gone.”

“Nat, are you okay?” He asked, louder than he intended.

He didn’t even realize Scott had made his way over until he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he spun around to look at his worried face as he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nat’s car got stolen,” he told Scott quietly, then stared in front of him and repeated, “Are you okay, Nat? Where are you now?”

“I’m at home. I’m okay, I’m just really frustrated,” she admitted, groaning out in annoyance.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, quiet as he thought for a moment. “Did you already report it to the police?” He asked her, his voice lower.

“Yeah I called them and they came to the gym and filed a report,” she explained, then let out a bitter laugh. “As sad as I am about my car, I’m almost more annoyed I left my purse in the car because I had to go get my spare key from Mark so driving in rush hour traffic to his house probably made me more annoyed than anything.”

But Chris felt his heart all but stop at her brief expansion of the story, realizing one key detail from it. “Your purse was in the car?” He asked her slowly.

“I had left it but-”

“Nat, you need to go to my house,” he rushed out, motioning for Scott to hand him his phone.

“What? Why?”

He let out a short breath, then explained, “If they have your purse they have your keys, driver’s license, and your work ID and everything.”

“I know but they can’t get onto campus because my work badge has my picture,” she informed him, her voice a little frustrated. “And they don’t know where I live.”

“Yes they do, it’s on your license and car registration,” he reminded her. He was terrified at the thought of Nat in that apartment, alone with an already questionable door, while some assholes had not only her address, but her keys as well. It was asking for trouble and he couldn’t let her mess with her own safety like this. “Nattie, this is really bad.”

But Nat was nothing if not stubborn and independent, and it showed when she replied, “I’m sure they ditched my purse and just wanted the car.”

“But you don’t know that,” he tried to reason, already searching for security camera companies on Scott’s phone, trying to get someone to go to her apartment. “Nattie, I really want you to go stay at my house.”

She sighed in frustration, telling him, “Chris, I’m sure it’s fine. I doubt they even found my keys with how messy my purse is.”

“Look, Nat, I’m not trying to freak you out but I’m really worried about someone having the keys to your apartment. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he admitted, closing his eyes as he imagined the worst possible outcome. “Please go spend the night at my house, just for tonight. I need to know that you’re safe.”

Nat was quiet for a few moments, enough that he almost thought she was finally getting it – getting how fucking terrified this made him – until she quietly protested, “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

“Nattie… please? For me?” He nearly whispered, jaw clenched.

He focused on every tiny noise from her end of the call, the short huff of breath and sigh before she finally agreed, “...Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m texting you the code right now,” he told her, pulling the phone away and sending her the code to his garage and gate. “And Nat, I’m going to have someone come and change your locks and put up some security cameras at your apartment. I’ll have Scott set it up and let you know when they’re coming.”

“You really don’t need to do that, Chris,” she murmured, voice small.

“Trust me, there’s no way I’ll sleep if I don’t,” he confessed, a short laugh almost escaping him before he heard something behind him near the set, then Scott tapped his shoulder and motioned that it was time to resume filming again. “Hey, I’ve got to get back to set, but promise me you’ll leave right now and text me when you get to my house.”

He could hear her phone buzz as the text arrived, along with another right after it. “I’m grabbing my backpack right now and I’ll call Mark or Jamie to give me a ride,” she told him, her voice slightly muffled as she moved around her apartment.

“Okay, I’ve got to go back to set but I’ll call you as soon as I’m done,” he murmured, waving his hand as a PA started motioning him over. “And will you text Scott when you get to my place?”

“I promise I will,” she assured him, sounding a little less frustrated and upset… finally.

They both shared their goodbye’s before Chris clicked the red button on the phone and let out a long sigh to try to relieve the tension that he’d been holding in his body. A hand came up to scratch at his beard while Scott put a hand on his shoulder as he commented, “That didn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. Nat’s keys and everything were in her purse that she left in the car,” he told his brother, shaking his head as they made their way back on set and he handed Scott his phone. “Scott, I found a security camera company here, can you call them and have them go install cameras at Nat’s place? And then also call somewhere and get someone to go change her locks? I think you already have my wallet so you can use my card.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Scott promised, already tapping away at his phone. “And I’ll let you know when she texts me.”

Chris nodded, mind racing as he told him, “Let me know as soon as you can.”

Chris glanced over at the director who was waving him over incessantly now, and he patted Scott’s shoulder to silently say thank you before jogging back over to the camera. He got into position, but while they adjusted the lighting, he couldn’t help but find his mind wandering. He’d known Nat since February and had found that in that time, she’d slipped into his life so effortlessly, ever since that first day he’d seen her crashing into the glass door of that Pixar conference room.

But this was a wake up call for him. He knew he liked Nat, but for the first time he recognized just how deep he’d fallen in for her without even realizing it. The thought of anything even remotely happening to her was almost too much to bear. Thinking of Nat being upset about her car, let alone the thought that something bad happening to her made him sick to his stomach and longing to jump on a plane right then and there to go back to her. He couldn’t stand the thought of not having her and that was something he was finally starting to realize.

He’d known for a long time that he was interested in her. Nat had intrigued him with her humor, talent, and confidence, but the more he’d gotten to know her, the more he’d found things that he loved about her. She was so sensitive and touched by everything. She was down to earth and didn’t take herself too seriously. But she was vulnerable and a straight shooter, she wasn’t afraid of emotions and didn’t mind sharing them and that was something he hadn’t experienced in the same way. She seemed to calm him and ground him in a way he wasn’t used to, he simply just loved talking to her and being with her and the longer he was away, the more he recognized just how absolutely head over heels he was for her.

But it wasn’t an infatuation, or just some fling. He wasn’t interested in her for a good time or just for her looks, or even just someone to fill his time with as he’d done before. He truly just liked her and there was something about this that just felt… different. And once that next scene finished and Scott hurried over to tell him that Nat had texted and was at his house, he finally could breathe a little easier.

Chris was thankful for the distraction of filming to get his mind off of his worries but still was calling Nat the moment the filming for the entire evening was over. He gave her the rundown of when all the people were coming to get her new locks and install the security cameras but made her promise to spend another night in his house since everything wouldn’t be installed until the following evening and he swore just hearing that one soft, “Thank you for taking care of me, Chris,” and he wanted nothing more in that moment to just hold her in his arms and protect her from all the things of the world that Nat was too caught up in her beautiful artistic outlook of the life to see.

That feeling lingered in his heart as he went to his trailer, taking a warm long shower after filming and getting changed before he and Scott headed back to the hotel. His schedule was so mixed up with all these night shoots and he was getting ready to pull all the curtains to block out the sunrise when his phone started ringing. Assuming that it would be Nat, he quickly grabbed the phone and answered without even looking at the screen first.

“Hello, is this Chris?”

Chris frowned for a moment, his brain frantically trying to figure out who’s voice it was but came up with no answer and instead just replied, “Yes it is.”

“Hi Chris, this is Eric Marton, Nat’s dad. We met for just a minute a while ago when I was in California visiting Nattie,” the voice on the other end filled him in before supplying, “She gave me your number.”

Just the mention of Nat made a smile cross his lips and he instantly relaxed while moving around the room to toss a sweatshirt from the bed over to a nearby chair, “Yeah, I remember. It’s nice to talk to you again, Eric.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling you but I wanted to call to thank you.”

“Thank me?” His nose scrunched up at the thought, not having a clue what Nat’s father would want to thank him for.

He heard Eric clear his throat before the explanation came,“Nat told me about everything that happened with her car and that you had her go stay at your house and got all her locks changed.”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing that someone had the keys to her apartment,” Chris simply stated, knowing that it was the truth. He put the phone on speaker and tossed it on the bed while he started peeling down his jeans to get ready for bed and went on telling Eric that, “Nat seemed to think that they just wanted the car but I was just so worried. I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”

“I know you didn’t, and I just had to call to say thank you,” his voice was soft and full of emotion, so much like Nat’s when her feelings were at the forefront. “I hope it doesn’t make me sound like too much of a crazy overprotective father calling about his 33 year old daughter, but I just love her so much and I worry about her.”

Chris just laughed softly while climbing into bed, grabbing the phone and holding it with one hand while the other came behind his head as he propped himself up against the pillows. He knew what it was like to be worried about the people he loved, especially his family, and he knew that with Nat’s mother having been gone for almost her entire life, it was natural Eric would feel a little more protective and worried about his girls. But Chris found it anything but odd, instead finding it so endearing and loving the fact Nat had people in her life who loved her so deeply and told Eric, “I don’t think it sounds crazy at all. I’m so close with my family so I get being worried about them.”

“I know that Nat can take care of herself, she’s certainly not helpless by any means,” Eric stopped to laugh, making Chris chuckle as well from knowing just how true that was. “But it’s nice to know that she has someone else looking out for her and taking care of her,”

“Well Eric, I couldn’t agree with you more in the fact that Nat can take care of herself, but I don’t want her to always have to,” he knew how much he meant it. He didn’t want Nat to have to do everything alone and he wanted to do what he could to protect and care for her. “Besides, my Ma would be the first to say that I’m a bit of a control freak and anxious to a fault, so I couldn’t relax until I knew she was somewhere safe.”

Chris smiled as Eric laughed at those words, knowing so badly that it just felt… right. And as they hung up and Chris went through the motions of getting ready for bed, he remembered how strange this stage of relationships used to feel, the awkward not-quite-dating yet stage before the we’re-doing-this one, but with Nat it all felt new and exciting. He didn’t dread returning to Los Angeles next month like he typically did, all because of her, his Nattie. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to hold her in his arms, and he couldn’t help but look at the clock as he laid in bed, counting down the hours in his mind until they were back together as he fell asleep.

A/N: Genuinely.... we love them. And if you don't believe us, we wrote 62.5k words for them by the end of November. 🌯 is currently typing this on 11/30/2022, and we just cannot stop! We hope you love this, future-readers! Can't wait to read all your thoughts :)

ALSO We’re going to start posting updates TWICE A WEEK! So now every Monday and Thursday there will be an update!

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madalice31 · 8 days

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It’s annoying that I keep seeing articles talking about Aaron Taylor Johnson and his wife and how they’re so flabbergasted by everyone’s “fascination” with their age gap.

🙄

Like literally she was 42 and he was 18 when they met and started dating. Hell he might have been 17 going on 18 but i can’t remember. On one of his first movie projects I might add, like this was before Kickass. And she directed him in that first movie. In fact, by the time kick ass two rolled around I think they were already married. She married him before he even turned 21.

You can’t tell me he was not groomed. That’s just point blank. There has been a power dynamic imbalance since they got together. I mean seriously, he was a year older than her oldest kid.

The white media won’t drag her like the black media dragged Draya tho. They’ll just smile and nod and say it’s okay now that he’s in his 30s.

But let’s not sit here and act like this shit is normal. Notice how she’s had a grip on his career ever since? She’s literally a director and producer in the industry. She has weight. This man barely does anything with a romantic interest and I guarantee he would be in a lot more movies if he wasn’t married to her. And most likely he would have much larger parts in the films too. Like aside from bullet train, he’s had such a minute part in every other movie. My bf and I would get excited to see his name attached to a film, only to watch it and realize he has such a small role. It’s like they use his name for clout. Like I’m still trying to remember when he pops up in Tenant. And his name is never top billed when it should be.

I think Kraven will be the first movie he leads since the A Million Little Pieces movie, and he was directed by his wife in that as well! She overly involves herself in his career. She claims they “take turns” on projects so they’re not apart from each other for too long. But it seems his career suffers the most from that arrangement because again, it’s not like he’s off for months and months on a project. He’s not the lead! So he’s there for maybe a few weeks and he’s back home. Hell in a recent interview she was complaining about being away from him for 6 weeks (the longest they’ve been apart) and how they were “never doing that again.” This man is doing press tours for a project she has nothing to do with and and she’s coming with him to every interview. Like why? Ain’t you supposed to be home with the kids bitch? While he’s doing his own thing for a few weeks? Oh yes, that’s right, she needs to control everything he does. God forbid he’s away from her for long enough to realize maybe he’s not actually happy with her.

He likes to defend her by saying he pursued her but it’s like dude, you think so? You know what that sounds like? The 12 year old student who was raped by his teacher and defended her by saying he pursued and wanted a relationship with her. He grew up, married her, and got her pregnant all while she was in prison for being with him. Guess where they are now? Divorced. So just because Aaron thinks the relationship was his idea doesn’t make it right. She had the responsibility to say no, you’re entirely too young for me. Instead she decided to just “go with the flow” and let “a good thing happen” to her after two kids and a divorce 🙄.

Please. 8 or 10 years apart, I’ll give you that. But 20 to 30 years apart AND you met the person when they were still a teenager? I’m not tryna hear that age is just a number bullshit.

Smh. He’s so far gone tho, I doubt he’ll divorce her. He might pull a Hugh Jackman years from now, but at least Hugh was in his 20s when he got with his much older wife. I don’t think she was able to brainwash him the way Aaron’s wife has done. Plus Hugh and his ex never had kids. I’m sure kids being involved makes it harder for Aaron if he’s even thinking about or thought about leaving. So I guess we’ll just see how the cookie crumbles.

I like him as an actor, but I’ve always found their relationship disturbing. So I wish they would just shut up about it and be low key. Cause one thing they seem to steer clear of talking about is the actual beginning of their relationship and the fact that he was a vulnerable, 18 year old first time actor when they met, literally just as career was starting. And he’s never mentioned about how his family feels about him being with her. Never even made a passing comment saying that they love her or anything like that. Just saying, the signs are there.

The quiet on the set documentary clearly shows how young actors are not protected. In this case he was legal, so she got away with it. Smh. I wish him the best.

#aaron taylor johnson #predatory wife

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plainviewwelcomesyou · 2 years

Note

Sit the closet one

You play it safe and just sit in the one closest to you.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Ya know what we like to do here, kid? We like to have ourselves a good load’a fun. And hey - what’s more fun than a lil’ game? So let’s play a lil’ game called “Who’s Who”. Need I explain more?

You shake your head ‘no’.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Good. Ya already know ya place.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Obviously -

He puts his hands on his chest.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: There’s me. Good ol’ Lucia Celebration, the one ‘n’ only Birthday King. When things get run, I’m the one runnin’ em. ‘Head honcho’, ‘big shot’, whateva’ words ya have to sum up “the guy in charge”.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: And over there,

He points to another member. This one bearing the resemblance of a three-headed fish.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Is-

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: HARK! FOR I AM IMAGIO DIATRIBE, ORDERER OF THE GUNCH!!! YOU, LOWLY RECRUIT, HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY STRIPPED OF INDIVIDUALITY, AND IT’S ALL THANKS TO ME!!!! ME AND THE GUNCH, OH THAT MAGNIFICENT MACHINE THAT I ALONE BUILT TO PEEL AT THE FREEDOM OF THE MIND - THAT’S RIGHT, THE GUNCH AND ME!!! SO TO HELL WITH THE TULSE AND HER INFERIOR ROBOT CREATIONS, WHO’S LAUGHING NOW YOU FUC-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Imagio would you please get off of the table.

Imagio is, in fact, on the table.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: OH.

Imagio is no longer on the table.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Now, for someone who actually knows how to ACT correctly - Mx. Adelias, would you do the honors?

The bird-like being closes the fan that had once been obscuring their face, revealing a suave, put-together appearance.

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: Charmed to. Hello, dear - you can call me Eidelias Adelias, or going by my title, ‘Official Birthday Party Supervisor of Spectacle’.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: THERE THEY GO, “OFFICIAL BLEHBLEHBLEHBLEEEE”- WEAR IT OUT, WILL YOU?!

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: Imagio, for the self described ‘pillar of control’ you certainly don’t have the best grasp on controlling yourself~

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: I WILL RIP YOU APART YOU LITTL-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: MR. DIATRIBE I CAN AND WILL RETURN THAT PUNY LITTLE PIPE ORGAN OF YOURS IF YOU KEEP THIS UP!

Imagio gets teary in all three pairs of eyes.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: MY ORGAN??? MY PRICELESS ORGAN?!

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: THE ONE BOUND OF PIXIE-SILVER AND THE FINEST BIRCH?!

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: I-I SWEAR UP AND DOWN ON MY LIFE, SIR, MOTHER GOSS FORGIVE MY SOUL, I’LL BEHAVE! I’LL BEHAVE!!!! I PROFUSELY APOLOGIZE FOR EEEEVERYTHING!!!!!!! I’M SO SORRY FOR EVER TORMENTING YOU WITH QUARELLSOME NOTHINGS!!!! I DIDN’T MEAAAAN ITTTTTT!!!!!

The fish - or fishes - turns into a shaky mess of incoherent tears. At least she’s not talking anymore, and that seems to be good enough for Lucia.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: B.B., would you-

EIDELIAS ADELIAS: I regret to inform you that it appears that B.B is absent from today’s gathering. In the Gauntlet, I presume.

Lucia looks over to an empty chair, the one meant for B.B.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: RIGHT. RUNNIN’ THE GAUNTLET. YEAH.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: PHINEAS GEARSHIFT?!

An elderly half-mechanized snail-man sitting across from you wakes up from somehow being able to sleep through all this.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: HUH? BWHUH? HUH?!!

LUCIA CELEBRATION: READ. WHAT’S ON. THE PAGE.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: Oh.

Mr. Gearshift shuffles paperwork around, before reading off one sheet in particular.

PHINEAS GEARSHIFT: ‘My name is Phineas Gearshift, owner of Gearshift Incorporated and a … gl…GLAD endorser of The Birthday Party. As the appointed Old Money Manager of this fine establishment of hardworking individuals, I proudly back the Birthday Party with…MILLIONS of my own dollars…each. Year.’ That good enough fer ‘ya?

LUCIA CELEBRATION: It works.

Little Man sits up from one of the member chairs - shocking you that he even has a chair at all. But, his name is on a plaque, so..?

LITTLE MAN: DHDHDGSGSGSHSSJAHSHSHSSHHSNSNSBSBSJSHSGSBSKSJSJSBJSSJHSHAHSJSJSSHHEBBEJESHSHJSJSJSSBSHSBSSBSISHSH

LUCIA CELEBRATION: …Wisely said, Lil’ guy.

IMAGIO DIATRIBE: WAIT WHY DOES HE HAVE A SEA-

LUCIA CELEBRATION: Shuttup AND LASTLY, THE STAR OF THE SHOW - CINNAFUN SWIRL HERSELF!

Cinnafun laughs and waves awkwardly, looking incredibly uncomfortable for such a confident pop star.

CINNAFUN SWIRL: Ummm. Hiii~iiii. I’m Cinnafun Swirl, and….I….I’m the appointed Diva of Doom, and….~ Ha. Yeah. That’s me. Hi.

LUCIA CELEBRATION: That’s ‘em all, then. Finally. New guy, is there ANYTHING you need me to repeat on that front?! ANYTHING AT ALL?!

(No, we… we can move on.)

(YOU PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS.)

#plainview

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laurenairay · 2 years

Text

This is My Home - N. Hischier

A/N: I wrote this for @antoineroussel’s word prompt challenge, so here we are! I started writing this before PK retired, ergo he is still on the team. Just a bit of domestic fluff and a slice of home life.

Player: Nico Hischier

Word: Xenial (adjective) – warm, welcoming, and hospitable

Word count: 2.6k words

“I found the fresh baguettes!”

“The part-baked ones?”

“Yeah, that’s the ones! Managed to get all four, just as you asked.”

You grinned as your boyfriend walked into the kitchen, baguettes in hand as promised, and lent up to thank him with a soft kiss.

“Aww, only a little kiss after I braved the streets of Newark for you?”

“Oh yes, so brave, Nico Hischier risking everything to make it through the supermarket,” you said dryly.

Nico just laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “So mean to me. I don’t know how I’ll survive.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, oh brave and mighty Captain,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head. “Is there anything I can do to help? Any more prep you need doing?”

“Well, the dressing is ready for the salad, the salad is ready in the fridge, the pasta bakes are both in the oven on low, and I’ve nearly finished making the garlic butter – maybe you could slice the baguettes just deep enough for me to put the butter in ready for later?” you suggested.

“Done,” he grinned, nodding, “I’ll also wash up the million pans that you used.”

“Oh hush, you try cooking enough minced beef, onion, grilled peppers and homemade tomato pasta sauce for nine hockey players and little old me,” you shot back, laughing.

“Touché!”

Nico leant his head down, pressing a slow soft kiss to your lips again before leaving you with your heart racing, barely able to get yourself together again by the time he was gently slicing into the baguettes next to you.

This evening was a big night – the first time that the two of you were hosting a dinner party together. Even more so, it was in the apartment that the two of you had just moved into, your first home together, and you’d only just made it feel like home when Nico asked if you minded hosting something together. Just a small thing, he promised, for a few of the team. When you’d eventually gotten the whole story out of him – he wanted to do something nice for some of the core older guys and the younger guys, all those without partners of their own, as Captain now that the team could mix again – there was no way you could say no. The hope in his eyes and the fact that he was even asking in the first place made your decision for you. You knew that dating the captain of an NHL team came with responsibilities, came with a role of your own, and if you could do something as small as hosting a dinner party then you absolutely would. Maybe you weren’t quite a Michelin star chef, but you could hold your own – there were a few recipes that were home comforts that you knew you could adapt to pack with veggies for the team, and the pasta bake you eventually decided on was one of them. At least you hoped Jonas, Gravy, Dougie, Nate, Mikey, Jack, PK, and Dawson (the eventual guest list) would like it?

Sure, you hadn’t cooked for that many people before and certainly not with hockey player appetites, but you’d doubled the usual recipe so that would be okay, right? Damn, what if you hadn’t?

“Baby, what if there’s not enough food? I know how much you guys eat! I don’t have any back-up!” you groaned, “I don’t want to leave our guests hungry at our first dinner party!

“Woah, schätzli, breathe. They’re going to love the dinner, I promise. Like, they’ll all just be happy to have a meal cooked for them,” Nico said, smiling.

You knew he was trying to reassure you, really you did, but that did not help in the slightest.

“Really? Just happy to have a meal cooked for them? Should I have saved myself the stress and just made a huge vat of kraft mac and cheese?” you asked dryly.

Nico’s eyes went wide, cheeks flushing as he realised the implication of his words, and he quickly took your hands in his. You knew he knew how hard you’d been working on all of the preparation today, but right now his words weren’t what you needed to hear.

“The effort and love you’ve put into this food could never be replaced by kraft,” he insisted, pursing his lips at the brand name, “I really didn’t mean it like that.”

You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, hesitating briefly, but eventually nodded. Your boyfriend hadn’t meant any harm, you knew that, and the last thing you wanted to do was take out your frustration on him.

“Alright, if you say so,” you said forced-lightly, “I just hope everything goes smoothly.”

“It will. I promise. Tonight is going to go well,” Nico said firmly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

As always, you were unable to stop yourself returning that familiar smile, Nico just smiling a little wider before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“How long have we got before the oven timer goes off?” he murmured, warm hands leaving yours to clutch at your waist.

“Mm, 30 minutes, why?” you asked a little breathlessly.

Nico just grinned sharply, hands sliding down to cup your ass before he lifted you up. You shrieked slightly, batting at his shoulder while he laughed, wrapping your legs around his waist regardless.

“Dreadful, awful man,” you mock-scolded, sliding your arms around his neck to draw your faces even closer.

“Yes, yes I am,” he smirked, “How about we rectify that?”

The promise in his eyes made you shiver.

Eventually, the two of you made it back into the kitchen, nearly the full half hour after Nico carried you down the hallway, and you knew at least some of your guests would be arriving shortly. Your boyfriend took out the required 8 bowls and cutlery sets, putting them on the kitchen island ready for serving the food up, while you placed the pre-prepared garlic breads into the oven too, hoping the delicious smells would travel through your apartment by the time Nico’s teammates arrived.

“Drinks? Should we get them out now?” you asked, trying to think of anything else you’d missed.

“I already stocked the fridge with beers and wine and sodas – we can just give the guys what they want when they arrive. Relax, schätzli, everything’s under control,” Nico said warmly.

“Easy for you to say,” you mused, nudging him with your hip.

Nico just nudged you back, grinning. “You look beautiful, the food smells amazing, and all I need to do is set the cutlery out – everything else can be done after the guys arrive. It’s all good.”

He was right. You knew he was right. So you tried to let his words sink in, forcing yourself to relax until it actually felt real.

Wait.

“Salad tongs! I need to find the salad tongs!”

Nico just groaned before laughing as you darted over to the drawers again, but you just ignored him. Whirling round with a triumphant smile, you brandished the almost-forgotten tongs like a sword, Nico giving you a teasing round of applause, but before you could retort, the doorbell rang. Your boyfriend sent you a reassuring smile to calm the nerves you knew he knew were simmering under the surface, and left you to put the cutlery and salad tongs out on the dining room table. To be honest, it gave you enough time to steady yourself as Nico greeted his friends.

You knew being so nervous was a little silly, but you’d never cooked a homemade meal for guests before. Like, this was your home, with your boyfriend, and it was his friends coming over to celebrate the two of you. It was important, right? It didn’t matter that you’d met them all so many times during the couple of years you’d been dating Nico, but it was different this time – this was your first home together, and you wanted it to be special. So so different from just heating up catered food. This was your food, and you wanted them to like it. Was that silly? Really?

“There you are!”

The sound of Jonas’s voice brought a smile to your face, breaking you out of your thoughts as you laid the last of the spoons down.

“Jonas! I’m so glad you could make it,” you said happily, hugging him tightly.

He just laughed, hugging you just as tightly in return before letting you step away. “Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing. I already reminded Nico that he’s clearly punching in this relationship.”

Hah, as if.

“Oh stop it, it’s nothing complicated. Just good homely food,” you grinned, “Can I get you a drink?”

“I think your lesser half has that covered – but I did bring you a bottle of wine, to say thanks for hosting,” Jonas smiled.

What a thoughtful man. Nico really was lucky to have such wonderful friends.

“You really shouldn’t have – but thank you. I’ll put this in the kitchen!”

Jonas trailed after you, glancing around the apartment that he had yet to see in full, Nico just smiling as he saw the two of you.

“I see you found each other,” Nico grinned, passing Jonas a freshly-opened beer.

“I just followed the sound of someone working hard,” Jonas shot back, teasing.

Nico stuck his tongue out in retaliation, making you laugh – and then the doorbell rang again. You stayed in the kitchen chatting with Jonas while Nico did his hosting duty again, and in no time at all he returned with Dougie and Ryan, both of them smiling widely.

“Hi! Welcome!”

“Thanks for having us all,” Dougie grinned.

“It smells amazing in here,” Ryan added.

“We shouldn’t have too long before food is ready,” you said simply.

“PK’s clown car was pulling in as we were walking up, so they should all be here soon,” Nico mused, reaching into the fridge for a chilled bottle of white wine.

Ah yes, PK had drawn the short straw (by having the biggest car) and had been the lucky person to pick up all the younger guys – you could only imagine how rowdy a car with Nate, Mikey, Jack, and Dawson would have been. Poor PK.

“Here, just a little something to say thank you for tonight, and as a little housewarming gift,” Dougie said, smiling.

He drew out a beautiful crystal vase from behind his back, Ryan revealing a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, making you gasp softly. Oh how thoughtful! That was the last thing you were expecting.

“That is so sweet of you two – thank you, so much,” you said, still a little stunned.

They both shrugged, looking pleased with themselves, Nico murmuring his own thanks as he passed them a glass of wine each. As the doorbell rang for, hopefully, the final time, you busied yourself filling the vase with water and arranging the flowers in it to stand proudly.

Your first home, your first dinner party, your first vase. Everything was happening tonight.

“The party has arrived!”

You turned around with a grin at the sound of PK’s booming voice, allowing yourself to get wrapped in a warm hug, squealing as he lifted you off your feet.

“It’s good to see you too, PK,” you giggled, once he’d placed you back down on the floor.

“How could I miss an evening at Chez Capitan?” he grinned.

“What can I get you to drink?”

“Well unlike the two giants and the other Swiss, I will actually need to drive the babies home, so I’ll just have the one glass of wine now, if that’s okay?” PK mused, ignoring the crows of protest from the younger guys.

“Of course! I picked up a bunch of sodas too, so you’ll have plenty of choice later,” you explained.

“You are a goddess and Nico does not deserve you,” PK said bluntly.

“Well that I do know,” Nico chimed in, making everyone laugh.

By the time all the guys had a cold drink in their hands (and by the time PK had given you a marble drink coaster set and the young guys had given you the basket of gourmet cookies, chocolates and candied fruit they’d put together, bless them), the food was ready.

“Alright, guys, if you can all take a seat at the table?” you called out to get their attention.

Jack’s whoop made you laugh, Nico just rolling his eyes. Jonas led the way, leaving you and Nico alone in the kitchen.

“Tell me what you want me to do. It’s your show, boss,” he said with a soft smile.

Boss. Hah. You could get used to that.

“If you could get the two large dishes of pasta bake out the oven while I lay the bowls out, then I can serve the first dish into everyone’s bowls while you chop up the garlic bread fully? Then I put all the garlic bread in those baskets we bought while you take out the bowls? I need to get the salad out of the fridge as well.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nico mused.

You just rolled your eyes fondly, passing him the oven mitts as you headed for the fridge. The plan sounded more like a military operation and you knew it – but it was better than having half a dozen bodies to dodge around.

Thankfully the two of you got all the food to the table without dropping anything, although PK did have to smack Dawson’s and Nate’s hands away from the garlic bread while you were still bringing dishes in, and when you finally sat down with your drink, you felt a small weight lift from your shoulders.

“Alright, we’ve got two giant pasta bakes with minced beef, grilled peppers, onions, and homemade tomato pasta sauce, a giant leafy salad with homemade dressing, and four big baguettes baked with homemade garlic butter for a very tasty garlic bread, if I do say so myself,”

“My god you’re amazing. I’ll say it again, Nico doesn’t deserve you,” Jonas grinned, making your cheeks heat up, Nico just laughing.

“Please, dig in. And help yourself to the second dish of pasta bake!”

“So tonight went well, yeah?”

Nico smiled broadly around his toothbrush in answer, making you giggle as toothpaste foam dripped into the sink. He laughed softly himself, spitting and rinsing his mouth & toothbrush before smiling properly at you.

“It went so well. I told you it would, no? The boys were gushing about how good your cooking is, and I know you know they appreciated all the effort,” Nico nodded.

“I just wanted everyone to have a good time, in our new home together,” you said simply, cheeks dusting with heat.

“Schätzli you were so xenial, so warm and welcoming, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life wanting to spend time with my friends like that,” Nico said softly, “So lucky.”

His sweet words sent a pleased warmth through your body, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips.

“I definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again, for special occasions,” you shrugged.

“You’re amazing,” he sighed happily, making you laugh and bat at his bicep.

Ridiculous man. Your ridiculous man though.

“Can’t have them getting too spoiled though. Especially the young guys,” he added.

You just laughed again, rolling your eyes. Whatever he wanted to do as Captain for team dynamics was up to him – if you could help by cooking every now and again then you would, but the rest of it you were staying out of. It was just better that way, for your sanity if nothing else.

“Jonas is the exception though, right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well duh,” he grinned.

#my writing #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier x reader #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfic

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toyybox · 7 months

Text

Spiderwebs #11: Dollhouse

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The bed was bought from a garage sale, a cheap but sturdy thing from somewhere downtown. It came with a matching nightstand, so Heather had that taken care of. She considered buying a lamp, but giving Jackie anything close to a weapon was a bad idea.

“What do you mean, a brush that isn’t sharp?”

Heather tried her best to sound polite. “I mean, if someone tries to stab me with that toothbrush, they won’t get very far. Something like that.”

The general store employee gave her an odd look, so Heather gave up and bought the least dangerous looking one. The mattress was ordered online. Heather was able to buy a few sets of clothes, alongside gloves and a new pair of black boots that would fit better than the old shoes Heather had let him borrow. She acquired a stronger light bulb, a nicer blanket, a pillow, and a shell-white bedsheet. A writing desk would be necessary for certain experiments, so she blew a few bucks on that. And a better chair, of course. Heather knew she was getting carried away when she almost bought a rug.

Three days passed before she could acquire everything. She didn’t visit Jackie in that time. She had left him food and water, obviously, and assumed he would figure the rest out by himself. She had enough on her hands with all the boxes in her living room, and the incessant calls. There were so many calls.

Heather lifted the phone for what must have been the sixth time that hour. “What is it now?”

“Heather, please!”

She heard that word a lot lately. Heather hung up without a moment’s hesitation. The phone rang again, however. It would keep ringing unless she answered. Her old boss was a determined man, even if he was a tad oblivious.

She lifted the phone again. “Listen, I’ll let you talk once. But this is the last time you call me, or I’m placing a restraining order.”

“Yes, of course.” There was a deep exhale on the other side of the line. “Heather, the organization needs you. Nobody else can work on that project. You were our best asset, face it. Half these idiots don’t even know how to operate a Bunsen burner. We need you.”

“Nice speech, but don’t kid yourself. You need my money.”

“So what? Maybe we need your money. The coffee machine ran out of coffee three weeks ago! Come back, and we’ll give you the highest position possible. All the benefits. Come on, you’re a reasonable person, you gotta come back.”

Heather brought the box cutter out of a drawer. “Yeah, thanks, but I’m legally not allowed back there. Go find someone else to leech off.”

“You tried to drug one intern, who cares?”

“The police!” she snapped. “If the higher-ups catch you pulling this shit, the authorities will get involved, and it’ll be my ass in a jail cell. Don’t call me again.”

“Fine, fine. But it doesn’t have to be official, you know, just come with the money and we’ll collaborate in private. No more drugging the interns, but we’ll get some monkeys, whatever. What else are you planning? You aren’t working with someone new already, are you?”

“It’s been a month. What did you expect?” Heather ran the boxcutter along the taped edge of the bedframe’s box. “I’ve got another project. I’m not coming back. Goodbye.”

With that, she hung up and cut the last of the tape off. Damned bureaucrats. Sticking their nose where the money was like a pack of bloodhounds. Had all the politeness of a stray dog, too. Heather was done with them.

The research facility she used to work at had been dreadfully boring. Her colleagues shared different interests, to say the least. Benevolent, but horribly tedious interests. It was challenging, working on curing glioblastoma cancer, but she didn’t really care about curing diseases. She wanted to break the boundaries of what was considered science. She wanted to tear the universe apart and mesh it back together by her own design. Curing cancer was fine, but it was nothing compared to immortality. Those mice pumped full of steroids and painkillers were nothing in the shadow of Jackie Rockwell.

Speaking of, Heather was ready to check up on him. A thick, black scarf had been tossed aside on a sofa. She grabbed it, made her way across the hallway, then knocked on the basement door.

“Who’s there?”

She rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “Very funny.”

“Very funny who?”

Good to know he was awake, at least. She turned the lock and swung the door open. Jackie lay sprawled on the floor, still tangled in the blanket, surrounded by empty granola bar wrappers.

Heather waved her box cutter at him. “What are you doing?”

He froze. His neutral expression shifted into slight alarm. It reminded her of the incident, as she’d taken to thinking of it, after she had cut him open. That made her guilt weigh a little heavier. And that made her anger burn a little brighter. She had no idea what past Heather was thinking. Hugging her test subject was one of the most unprofessional situations she could think of. The worst part was that it had actually felt nice—but that didn't make any sense! Heather was not lonely. She was alone, but not lonely.

All she wanted was to forget about that mistake and move on with the experiments. That was nothing but a misstep, a fumble in the first half of the game. Nothing more.

“It’s not for you.” She pushed the blade closed and pocketed it. “Unless you decide to do something stupid.”

He relaxed, sighed, and sat up. “I’m not doing anything. There’s nothing to do here.”

“You’ll be happy with the change of scenery, then.” She stepped down the stairs. “Close your eyes.”

“I'm getting deja vu.” He closed them anyway.

Heather stepped behind him and wrapped the scarf around his eyes, twice. “Can you see anything?”

He shook his head.

“Excellent.” She pulled him up by the arms, and he staggered to his feet. “Follow my lead. Don’t take the blindfold off.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Exactly.”

With her hands firmly on his shoulders, she steered him up the stairs and out of the basement, then up another flight of stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. There, she led him into a closet.

He felt for the walls, pushing his hands upon the sides. "Is this another experiment?"

"No. I have business to attend to. I don't want you running off in the meantime."

"The blindfold's a bit unnecessary."

"Is it?” She shut the closet door, then locked it. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t make too much of a mess.”

First of all, his room was filthy. The basement was splattered with blood and ash, filled with junk, and smelled like a slaughterhouse. The empty mirror was easy enough to move. The old dresser was pushed out without much effort, as were the remains of the table. The freezer was harder. She rolled it upstairs on an appliance dolly, as slowly as possible.

Bloodstains weren’t hard to clean. Piles of peroxide powder scattered over the floor broke down the copper-red splotches, while she cleared out the garbage and rotting food. Dusting and sweeping took a good ten or fifteen minutes. Clumps of dust and flakes of charcoal soon lay in the bottom of a black garbage bag.

The smell was harder to get rid of, now that it had time to seep in and settle, but she managed to cover it up with a few sprays of air freshener. Twenty minutes were spent on setting up the furniture, building the bed frame and putting the mattress on, then moving everything else into place.

By the end, Heather had to admit she was proud of her work. She never knew interior design could be so entertaining. That stillness, that empty perfection—it was all so fascinating. It reminded her of a diorama. After all, the room was primarily a safe environment for her subject. A contained space to observe him. An insect in a glass jar. A doll in a dollhouse.

Jackie was leaning against the closet wall when she came back. “Took you long enough.”

“Did I say you could take the blindfold off?”

“It’s a closet, what’s the big deal?”

She ripped the scarf from his grasp and placed it back over his head, despite his irritated expression. “Stop complaining. Come on.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Once they reached the basement, she lifted the scarf away.

He rubbed his eyes. He walked around the room in sprawling circles. He sat down on the bed, at last. His arms fell gently into his lap. Then, he looked back at her over his shoulder, eyes full of an apathetic uneasiness, and did not move. There was something very candid about it.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s stupid,” he replied at once. “Do you wanna know why I think it’s stupid?”

“No.”

“You’re putting so much effort into this,” he continued. “You think this is going to be a permanent thing. It’s ridiculous. It’s a waste of your time. It’s a waste of my time. You can’t keep me here forever.”

“I can’t?” She smiled, faintly amused. “You’re right. Forever is a long time. It’s only until one of us dies.”

“I will kill you.” That candid air snapped as he rose to his feet.

“Oh, you can try. If you need me to teach you another lesson—“ She pulled out the box cutter from her pocket, pushing the blade open—“I’d be happy to help.”

He sat back down, simmering with rage. “I can’t wait to see you rotting in prison, you fucking creep.”

“Oh, boo hoo. I’m a monster because I gave you a home. You have to live here, so what? I’m the one doing all the work. I’m the one taking care of you.” She pointed at him with the blade. “All you have to do is sit there and be quiet.”

“I have a home!” he snarled. “I already have a home! I don’t want you to take care of me. I didn’t ask for you to fucking kidnap me and keep me in your fucking basement. I don’t want to be your fucking test subject. I want to go back home, back to my home. I want to leave.”

“We don’t always get what we want, do we? If whining about it makes you happy, then you can keep whining. You can kick and scream the entire way. You’re still not leaving.” His glare only dug into her harder, and she sighed. “Try thinking of this in a positive way. It’s not all bad.”

“Yes, I’m sure a positive attitude will fix everything,” he replied tartly.

“A positive attitude will make you less insufferable. Just a suggestion. Maybe there’s a reason you used to live alone.”

“All because I didn’t say thank you to the psycho who kidnapped me.” He crossed his arms. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that? That’s a great way to make friends, isn’t it? Hey, maybe people would like you more if you didn’t rip their intestines out. Just a suggestion, you know. Maybe people wouldn’t think you were such a freak if—“

“Do you want to eat dinner or not?”

“I want to break your neck. Go to hell.”

Oh, how dare he. How dare he. Heather wanted to make him suffer for that. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to—but she needed to take her own advice and think logically for a moment. Of course he was angry. Who wouldn't be? He was scared, she knew that, and anger was how he tried to protect himself. Anger was his tooth and claw when he lost all his other weapons. It was only natural, even if it was idiotic. He'd see her point eventually. He'd get used to it. She didn't need to starve him.

"It's alright," she said. "You're upset. I'll get you something to eat."

"You want to drug me again, don't you?” He scoffed. “I'll pass."

"You'll change your mind."

His expression said otherwise, but he would cave in eventually. Like rusted metal, all things could be worn down with time. Like frayed fabric, like rocky shores, like entire mountains. Who was Jackie in the face of all these things? Only a man, only an animal without any claws. Even an immortal couldn't win against the nature of things. The second hand would wear him down, sooner or later.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

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