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#but this is the one who had the ''''house fire'''' that was nothing
cute-sucker · 2 days
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"❀˚ rafe is so attentive to you. he might be busy ‘handling business’ all the time, but he’ll drop everything if something’s bothering you. he wants you to live a cozy, carefree life, physical proof to you and everyone else that he can maintain that for you. so, when you show up at tannyhill with tears in your eyes, he goes straight into problem solving mode. ˚❀༉‧₊" - (x) inspired by @maiiuelle
you were in a foul mood. one that left you nothing but in shivers, and sniffles. you were holding yourself together until you saw rafe. you had started working lately, telling rafe that you could handle it and that you hated the way that he had to pay for everything. 
you worked at a meek small cafe, serving tables, and coming home greasy and bubbly. sometimes you'd bring free leftover fries, and rafe would kiss you, telling you that there was enough money to pay for it. but you liked it. you liked the simplicity rafe liked seeing you happy.
but today everything was horrible. from the way that the day started from the way you felt in the beginning. you had hit your toe on the door and chipped a nail. then there was a man who yelled at you for getting his order wrong, and you ended up having chunks of potato puree in your hair after a toddler grappled for the food you were serving.
so there you were at tanyhill. staring up at the daunting building, as hot tears streamed down your face. you felt caged in as your arms were wrapped around your body. you felt small, almost as if you could disappear the moment something was uttered.
rafe had given you the key to the house. that's the way he was, giving you small things. giving you small things that you'd always hold close to your heart. sometimes he'd just gaze at you, kiss your forehead and call you his "sweet girl," and you felt your whole body blaze with a fire. and so you gently swung open, the hall echoing with emptiness, you felt yourself smile gently. 
tanyhill reminded you of rafe. and rafe reminded you of good things. yet your foul mood followed you, and somehow there was this inkling feeling that rafe wouldn't allow you to keep your job if he knew how horrible the service was. 
but you couldn't help yourself as you bundled in rafe's bedsheets, smelling that scent of his, and wearing one of his polo's. your hand ached towards the phone, yet you held back. he was probably handling business, but it was finally when you picked up the phone and dialled his number. he picked up in one ring.
"rafe?" you sniffed out, your voice scratchy.
"what's wrong?" rafe murmured back. you could almost hear the alarm in his voice and could feel the way he was probably pacing around. he was probably going to be in trouble. that caused you to wilt even more, as you tried to stammer out your sentence. 
"i need you." 
˚❀༉‧₊˚.
you could imagine what rafe was thinking. he was probably worried. worried out of his mind, as you sat in his bed, messy bed head and tears streaming down your face. you heard the creak of the door opening, and there he was.
you saw him, eyes soft as they traced your body. there you were, eyes rubbed red, and a pout on your face. you seemed almost in disbelief, as you stared at him. finally, you jumped into his embrace. it was warm. it was home. you could hear his heartbeat. 
your voice was slurred as you whispered words out, still seeking his warmth.
 "you came." 
it was only here you took a peek at his face, a soft smile was sprawled across his face. 
"you called." 
maybe that was when you realised you loved him. 
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foldingfittedsheets · 14 hours
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I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.
His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.
Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.
When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.
One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.
In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.
He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.
That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.
Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.
Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.
I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.
I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.
I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.
However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.
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kykyonthemoon · 3 days
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Nightmares
When nightmares strike, you are the sole source of warmth that could help him overcome his inner turmoil.
ಇ. Character x Reader/MC
(Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne and Dawnbreaker, Xavier and Glitch!Xavier)
ಇ. Tags: hurt/comfort, angst with a little fluff, emotional hurt, comfort
ಇ. Word count: 3k7
ಇ. Requested anonymously.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request - will be reopened around late May.
Pic from X
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
It was a sunny afternoon when he returned to his old house.
That place still had a modest beauty, the kind of beauty that made family members feel sad every time they left. It was so deeply engraved in his mind that with every breath, he knew he was closer and closer to returning home.
There, would be someone always waiting for him.
The door creaked when opened. Caleb walked inside. The familiar smell of food and the sound of cooking in the kitchen were always the things that impressed him the most. He continued in that direction till he noticed a familiar figure sitting at the dining table, back to the aisle.
Caleb grinned and spoke your name. You did not reply. He went forward, putting one hand on your shoulder to turn you around.
Your lifeless eyes glanced up at him.
"Pipsqueak? What's wrong?"
You did not respond. You slowly rose up and entered the kitchen. Why was this place so dark and cold? Caleb failed to recall the house being this vast and gloomy.
"Where are you going? I'm back now, pipsqueak?
You halted. The warm sunlight poured down on him through the window, but where you stood just a few steps away from him, everything was in darkness.
Even you.
“You only came home now…” You spoke, but your voice didn't contain any emotion. You were always the one who ran into his arms when he came home after long journeys away! Why were you being so distant then?
“Pipsqueak…”
Caleb reached out to you. How he wanted to touch you! He wanted to hold you in his arms and if he had to beg your forgiveness for leaving you, he would definitely do so.
He had been gone for too long.
You looked at him. Tears began to fall and your face showed little emotion. Not joy, but resentment. You became distorted and writhed as if fire surrounded your body.
“You've been gone for too long!”
You screamed out in pain. Caleb quickly rushed towards you, but it seemed like a force was holding him back, making him unable to move. Just like that, he could only open his eyes and watch you burn. The kitchen was on fire. The house was on fire. Everything was on fire.
“You've been gone too long, Caleb!” You shouted. Your tears turned into blood as your body burnt in the flames. “You left me alone! You abandoned our home!”
The walls cracked, the windows exploded and debris flew all around, cutting you, cutting him. The ceiling began to collapse. But there was nothing Caleb could do. He just cried.
“Pipsqueak… Please…”
“You… left me… here...”
Your plaintive screams were swallowed by fire. When he finally was able to reach out and touch you, there was nothing left there but a burned corpse.
The fire disappeared. The cozy house in Caleb's memory had become ruins. He clutched your corpse, which was scorched black and was disintegrating into dust. The sobbing inside him turned into a protest against himself.
He left, because he thought it was the best thing for you.
When it all came back, to this place, many years ago, he had caused the house to explode. To you, he had been dead since then. He didn't have time to say goodbye. But he only had to do it to ensure your safety.
In the end, he could not save you. He could not save himself.
Still, you left this world. Still, you turned into ashes. Who did this to you; it was not the matter. Not when you had already died the day he left.
Caleb yelled with anguish. He lost you, he lost his home. The one thing that kept him going was gradually vanishing, soaring with the wind and never returning to him.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Pipsqueak!”
Caleb shouted. He opened his eyes to see the familiar bedroom ceiling, which was dimly lit by street lights outside the window and visible through the curtains.
Beside him, you turned over. With your eyes still closed, one hand struck his chest.
“What now?… Waking me up in the middle of the night…” You said in a sleepy voice. Caleb grabbed your hand and turned around to hug you. Only when he felt your warmth and buried his face in the scent of your hair could he calm down.
“It's nothing, pipsqueak…” He whispered. “It was just a nightmare… Sorry for waking you…”
You breathed evenly in a straight position on the bed. Your mouth grumbled something like: "Idiot... You're a grown-up now, and you're still afraid of nightmares..."
Caleb smiled softly. He gave you an even tighter embrace. "Yes. I'm such an idiot. I'm so terrified of nightmares every time I have to leave you."
“But I'm right here. Now will you let me go back to sleep?”
“Just let me hold you a little longer…” He whispered as he put his hand beneath the pillow and softly drew you into his loving arms.
You were real in front of his eyes.
And he had no intention of allowing you to vanish like in that dream again.
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
Waves crashed onto the shore in regular rhythms. The twisted moon overhead sent a feeble light into the sea, engulfing the two little figures standing by it. The water had reached their knees, and the two were leisurely dancing together.
Spinning. Around and around. Magically shimmering water droplets continued to soar high with each stride. You smiled pleasantly at him. That night, you became his bride.
The celebration was over. Only the two of you remained together, from now until eternity. You were so beautiful, so perfect. Your love for him was as pure as your smile.
And he should have felt happy.
He should have, because after all, he had got you and this perfect ending. But was this really the end?
He gazed at you with melancholy eyes. You smiled heartily as you whirled around. Sea water surged up high, bathing your entire body in a vivid crimson color. The entire water surface became the color of blood.
You were still dancing, as if the pungent odor of death gave you delight. You were immersed in blood when he gazed at you. Hatred was the only thing burning in his heart at that time.
You swayed a little farther, then turned towards him. Your arms stretched out as you called affectionately:
“Rafayel! Hurry. Come with me!”
He moved closer. He was strolling through a pool of blood from his own kind. Lemurian blood was dispersed over the waters.
Unbeknownst to you, as you turned your back on Rafayel, one of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other brandishing a knife.
“I like this place. Can we stay here forever?” You said, as if you didn't care about the blood gushing at your feet.
"Alright." Rafayel replied in a cold voice. “If you like it here, we'll stay.”
You leaned your head back with joy, resting on his chest. You were so little, yet you had a powerful heart. So gorgeous. He only wanted to strangle it, tear it out of your chest, and toss it into the deep sea.
He wanted you to pay the price.
You closed your eyes and hummed the melody he once sang for you. How foolish of him! He had given you everything—his love, his life, his whole kingdom... Everything was ruined by your hands.
Now, he shall take it all back.
Rafayel raised your chin and let you stare at him for a long while. You were smiling still. But he swung the sharp blade high, plunging into your heart.
In your eyes was terror and agony. Tears streamed from the corners of your eyes, but he still held your chin in his palm, making you unable to look away as his other hand forced the hilt of the dagger, deeper into your heart.
“Rafayel… Why… Why?…”
That was all you could say before the vivid red blood from your heart spread to his palm, spilling into the sea and merging with the blood of the Lemurians.
He should have been satisfied. He should have been thrilled since he carried out his vengeance.
But he simply felt broken.
When he tossed your lifeless corpse into the water, it seemed like he had died too that very moment.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Rafayel!!!… Stop… I can't… breathe… Rafayel!…”
You pinched Rafayel's cheek hard; he was sleeping on your chest. His weight prevented you from breathing normally. The ache awoke him. White pearls dropped from the corners of his eyes.
“Rafayel?…”
You frowned and watched him slowly rose up, both hands resting on your pillow. When he lowered his head, the radiant pearls continued to rain on your face and the bed.
“Hey… What's wrong?” You lifted your hands to caress his cheeks. “Why are you crying?”
“I… just had a nightmare…”
Rafayel gasped. It must have been a really horrific nightmare to make him this way. He fell asleep, his body was all over you, and then he started weeping. You had never seen him like this, and it concerned you.
"What did you dream about?" Your arms curled around Rafayel's neck, bringing him closer. He hesitated, as if he didn't want you to know, then revealed:
“In my dream, I had to kill the person I loved.”
Silence filled the room. The sky over your head was twinkling with stars. Rafayel's bedroom was filled with the lovely sound of the sea. You rubbed your face into the crook of his neck and murmured:
“I trust Rafayel will never harm me.”
“Are you sure? Even I don't know... The person in the dream... It's not me..."
"That's right." You rubbed his sweaty back. “That person is definitely not you. You know, people say dreams are the opposite of reality. What you saw will not happen.”
Rafayel was calmer, however, you still felt his body trembling in your arms.
“I won't allow that to happen…” He replied. “Having to end the life of the person I love… It is far more painful than being stabbed in the heart by that same person…”
“Rafayel.” You said in a serious tone. You held Rafayel's face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. His hair was tangled, and pearls were no longer pouring from his eyes, but they remained red. “I don't know what will happen in the future, but as long as I still breathe, I will never hurt you.”
Rafayel gazed at you for a time before gently smiling. “That's a promise between the two of us then.”
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
“Zayne… So cold… I'm… so cold…”
Zayne helped you up, quickly wrapping his thick coat around you. His hands stroked your body repeatedly to keep you warm. But you were growing colder. Your breath slowly escaped your body as the sorrow smothered his heart
“No… Wake up… Don't sleep! Please!… Don't sleep now…”
Zayne's scarred and bloody hand clumsily held on to you. So tight. He wanted to give you all his warmth. But did he even have any warmth left?
“It's useless.”
The voice sounded as if it had just escaped his mind. Zayne turned around. Behind him stood Grim Reaper, another Zayne dressed in a cloak as black as the night. Cold and cruel.
“You know you can't save her.”
"Shut up!" Zayne's shouts resonated across the wind and snow. He would never leave you alone in this cold.
Yet Grim Reaper's voice still echoed:
“You know why she died.”
Trembling, Zayne gradually dropped his gaze to the girl in his arms. In the center of your chest, bright, sharp pieces of ice were developing more and more.
"No… NO!" Zayne screamed. His palm touched the shards, causing them to tear into his skin. Bleeding. “I will save her! I must save her!”
He breathed into your numbed hand. But the more he touched you, the greater the ice formed around your body.
“Give up.” Grim Reaper spoke again. Zayne ignored him, despite the fact that they looked absolutely the same.
Nightmare. He had always been his nightmare. Perhaps in another universe, he was the Grim Reaper. And he felt like he was progressively becoming the Grim Reaper as you left this life, leaving him behind.
“Stay with me, please… Open your eyes and look at me….” Zayne begged over her corpse. His tears turned into drops of ice. They fell onto your body and shattered.
You could no longer hear his cries.
"You cannot save her." Grim Reaper said. He was bending down on one knee beside you, on the other side of Zayne. His hand in the black glove brushed across your frost-covered face, as if he, too, was in grief. "After all, you cannot save yourself."
"Leave!" Zayne yelled in rage and suffering. His embrace of you became more intense, as if he wanted to take you away from Grim Reaper's reach. He grinned with bitterness.
"Remember. You are the one who killed her.”
Zayne shook his head, repeatedly. Everything in front of his eyes drifted away. Grim Reaper also vanished. There were only you and him remaining.
He had murdered you.
You and he promised to get through this together. He would save your dying heart, and you would help him in his escape from the curse of his Evol. It was a curse. He was unable to control it, and there came calamity.
Help you? No, he was not your savior. He was your death.
Zayne heard Grim Reaper's laugh - his own laugh - echoing in his thoughts. Cruel yet full of bitterness.
The snowstorm came, but it could not bury his sin and regrets.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
When you came into Dr. Zayne's office during lunch break, you noticed the temperature was unusually low.
You discovered Zayne asleep on the sofa. His body trembled, he broke out in a cold sweat, and his mouth moved without any word heard. You even caught a tear falling from the corner of his eye.
“Zayne? Are you having a nightmare?” You shook him by the shoulders. His entire body felt freezing. The nearest window was covered in frost. You started to panic. But no matter how you attempted to rouse him up, he failed to hear you.
You had to sit on the sofa, placing his head on your lap. You caressed his hair, patted his shoulders and head while comforting him:
"It's alright. I'm here with you… You will be fine…”
After a while, his quiver stopped. His eyes opened slowly. He found you.
“…”
Zayne's hand reached out towards you and then stopped halfway. He was about to touch you but hesitated. Seeing that, you clasped your hand with his.
"What's wrong? Doctor Zayne is experiencing nightmares from overwork, isn't he?"
You smiled. So gentle. That warm beam seemed to calm him down. Zayne's respiration and pulse rate eventually returned to normal. He replied:
“Yeah… My apologies for causing you to worry again.”
When he recognized your cold hand, he became fully awake. He rapidly gained control of his Evol, and the room warmed up to some extent.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes. Much better now.”
Zayne's eyes were still red. He wanted to sit up, but you kept him in your lap for a while longer.
“Lunch break is still long. You can sleep for a bit longer. I will stay here to watch over your sleep.” You declared out loud, as if you were his little defender.
This made Zayne quite happier. He grinned and replied:
“You are always the one who guides me out of nightmares. No matter how bad it gets, I know you will come to my rescue.”
"That's right. Now you can sleep soundly.”
Zayne slowly closed his eyes. He was unsure if he could sleep again after that nightmare. But having you by his side made him feel more at peace. Your fingers squeezed his hand. Your warmth enveloped him. You were alive and well. He still had time to save you, to save himself.
Knowing that made him feel a lot more assured. When you placed a kiss on his forehead, he was ready to face all of the nightmares to come.
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
When Xavier returned to Philos, he did so as a traitor.
He gambled with fate, and lost everything. Honor. Freedom. Love. There was nothing left for him when he returned.
His fleet had crossed countless light years, to innumerable realms out there. But what he was looking for was just an illusion.
And suddenly his entire existence became a curse.
To lose his freedom, to lose the love of his life for eternity. Was that the price to pay for opposing destiny?
In the dark corner of the room, Xavier knelt on the cold stone floor. He could not move, nor speak unless granted permission.
He quietly observed the girl he loved in the garden on the other side of the door. The warm sunshine tenderly casted a lovely aura over your body. Your grin shone brighter than the myriad of flowers in the yard. How many times did Xavier want to approach you, call your name, and touch you? But he could not.
Every time he came close to you, the crimson chain around his neck tightened. It did not murder him, but it was painful and debilitating enough. All he could do was stare at you holding hands with an unknown person. Someone with a physique similar to his.
That man was the King, you were his Queen. And Xavier was nothing but a sinner, a tool to be used, a killing machine. All for you. He would do everything for you, but you were no longer his lover.
You failed to recognize him. You were no longer the same as before. Since the person he truly loved was dead.
She was once a Queen. He had vowed to be the Knight standing beside her. But he left her alone on the cold throne. She died and was reborn, again and again. How many times had his love died before he came back?
The girl in front of him now had no memory of those lives anymore. It was a blessing. For you would no longer have to cry over the treachery you believed he had committed on you.
His only wish was to save you; to save the girl he loved from the spiral of death and rebirth. But when he tried to cut off your chains, he, too, was bound by another curse.
He watched you die and come back in another life. As many times as you sat on that throne, he became a slave at your feet, and as many times as he witnessed your death. He could not do anything else, not even scream and weep.
For, he had been cursed since the day he left you alone.
“Xavier… Save me… I don't want… to die…”
He stared down at your body, which was securely tied to the stone table. Trembling. His Queen begged him. Xavier was shrouded in black. The chain around his neck became tighter.
“Do it, Xavier! Stop wasting time!”
The crowd behind urged him. Xavier's palm clenched on the shiny hilt of his sword.
“No… Xavier… Please!…”
“The sacrifice must be completed! Do not forget your duty as Philos' royalty, Xavier! Do not forget how you betrayed us and what punishment you must endure!”
Xavier closed his eyes tightly. You and him, you could never escape this fate. He raised his sword, once more. He ended your torment, for another life.
Yet, his suffering would never cease.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Xavier awoke with tight agony in his neck and chest. His pillow was drenched from weeping. He heard your frightened voice repeating in his ears:
"Oh dear! You have a high fever!”
Through tears, he watched you climb out of bed. You were going to go fetch him a damp towel and medication. But he pulled you back. He wrapped you securely in his arms.
“X-Xavier? How are you feeling? You scared me?…”
“Sorry… I'm really sorry…”
He continued muttering like that. You began to suspect that his apology was not for waking you up in the middle of the night screaming, or that he was hugging you so tightly that you were suffocating. Was there anything else going on?
"Did you have a nightmare?" You questioned as you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his neck and back.
Xavier responded with a gentle "yeah". He eased his hold slightly to allow you to breathe. But seeing his condition, you couldn't help but worry.
"You have a fever." You mentioned it again. "Let me get medicine for you…"
“Stay with me!” Xavier spoke, almost like a grumble. It startled you. His arm was draped around your torso, and his other hand gripped your wrist firmly. Xavier dropped his voice, recognizing he was becoming overly emotional: "Please... Just stay here a little longer..."
“Alright… I'm here…” You comforted Xavier. You cared about nothing other than his mental turmoil. But you believed he would feel better, and when he was ready, he would tell you everything.
A moment later, when he had calmed down, Xavier said:
“I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you sad or worried…”
"It's fine. I just want you to know that I will always be by your side… Besides, we also have Galaxy Kid, Bunbun and these plushies..."
Both Xavier and you gazed at your plushie-filled bed. He grinned faintly, as if he was finally at ease. You added
“We'll get through everything together, okay?”
For a moment, Xavier said nothing. He just tilted his head slightly to look at you closely. His hand caressed your face as if you were a treasure he once lost, then found.
“Of course. We will get through everything together. Definitely…” His voice trailed off as he fell into a hazy condition caused by the fever in the middle of the night. “This time… I won't let you face it… alone…”
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nattblacklupin · 3 days
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Sleepless nights
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Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end
Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep
Masterlist
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After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.
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Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.
It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.
After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.
"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.
"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.
You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.
You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?
Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.
"Took you long enough, princess"
Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.
Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.
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cordeliawhohung · 19 hours
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Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]
general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist
Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap
a storm hits
wc: 3.9k
warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore
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Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.
There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for. 
When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside. 
Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do. 
“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned. 
A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.
“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation. 
Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.” 
Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John. 
“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.” 
Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops. 
“That would be nice,” you mused. 
John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”
“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.” 
“A fine thing to love.” 
Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold. 
“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.” 
“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.” 
“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.” 
John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him. 
“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.” 
“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.” 
Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?” 
“Simon is not my husband.” 
Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned. 
“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.” 
He paused.
“I would have liked to have married him.” 
If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you. 
“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. 
“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.” 
“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered. 
John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you. 
“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.” 
He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal. 
“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.” 
“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.” 
“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.” 
A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway. 
“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.” 
Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled. 
“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.” 
Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm. 
A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer. 
“Come. We should eat,” he urged.  
It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go. 
“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.” 
No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover. 
“Stay,” you said, voice quiet. 
John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn. 
“Then it is done.” 
Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy. 
Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John. 
“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously. 
“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can’t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”
He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner. 
“He seems upset,” you noted. 
“He’s in pain,” John explained. 
A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face. 
“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.” 
Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate. 
Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin. 
As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand. 
John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms. 
“Is he alright?” you questioned.
John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him. 
“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.” 
You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe. 
Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks. 
Why would a blacksmith have such scars? 
John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin. 
“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound. 
John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh. 
“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged. 
A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.” 
Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal. 
“I don’t believe it,” you countered. 
Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted. 
“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.” 
He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away. 
“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.” 
A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line. 
“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.” 
“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.” 
“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”
“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked. 
“You should’ve left me there.”
“I love you too much for that.” 
The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been. 
On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?
In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch. 
In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.
186 notes · View notes
worldofkuro · 16 hours
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile VII
<- Previous Chapter
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: 4913 words... I don't know what happened. I'm so tired, it's 1 am but who cares, I needed to drop the new chapters. I really hope you'll enjoy it dears ! Tell me what you think of it! Because I'm dead tired there might have more mistake than usual, I'll check it out tomorrow.
“ And then I kind of kissed him through the blanket.”
You stared as Alice squealed with delight, bouncing on her seat in front of you. You were in your living room,sitting on your sofa, your Mother was out which made you alone with your friend. You just finished telling her what happened two days ago and she seemed delighted while you were… confused. At that moment you didn’t even think, you just… went for the kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss, your lips didn’t touch! You just felt the blanket!
“ And then ? And then ? Don’t leave me hanging, tell me what happened next!” begged Alice while she was squeezing a cushion against her chest. You turned your head toward the chimney’s fire. You were the 20th of December. Christmas was around the corner and then Alastor’s birthday…And you still didn’t have any ideas for a present ! You sighed, you were losing against the clock… “ Hey, are you doing alright ?”
“ Oh, sorry Alice, nothing happened after. He… reassured me and then he went home. But the problem right now is that I don’t have his Chrismas’s present… I don’t even have his birthday’s present!”
“ He was born on the first of January, right ?” You nodded and she tilted her head backward, thinking about a present for your friend. You almost scoffed, you trusted her but if YOU couldn’t find a present for Alastor, how could she do it? “ Hey, before I forget, I asked my parents if I could celebrate Chrismas’s Eve with friends and they said yes!” she clapped her hands together. “ You should come, and bring Alastor with you !”
Going to a soirée with Alastor..? You looked at Alice. She was indeed the daughter of a rich family but she wasn’t like those pompous people who thought they were better than anyone. She was open minded. She made friends with everyone, white people, coloured people, everyone.. And you were surprised her parents were okay with it. Maybe they weren’t closed minded people?
You kind of wanted to see Alastor in this kind of environment, you have never seen him all dressed up since you were kids. It could be fun ! But would he agree ? You could almost hear his voice saying he didn’t want to leave his Mother alone for Chrismas’s Eve.. You didn’t want to leave your mother alone either– Wait, that was it! You would invite Marie to pass Chrismas’s Eve with your Mother and you and Alastor would go to Alice’s soirée and then celebrated Christmas in your own house with Alastor and her mother!  
“ From your smile, I guess it is a yes?” asked Alice with a grin. You winked at her before standing up.
“ It’s a maybe… I don’t know if Alastor would want to come.”
“Mhn.. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him that John will be there.” she said with a teasing expression, like she knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious.
“ Alice… Did you talk with Alastor when he walked you home?”
“ Oh! Actually yes, he is the one who began to talk. He asked about our relationship, he seemed very protective of you, it was cute!” she beamed as she giggled. You blushed, looking away. “ But you think he would not like a party?  He seemed like he would be the star of the soirée!”
You did know that. Alastor has something that made people want to approach him. He was almost seventeen but he already had so much charisma, he was a proper gentleman. You weren’t blind, you could see more and more young ladies turn their eyes on him when you were walking outside. You wondered if he was aware of it? If he was, he never made a deal of it, he would just smile back at them if they happened to catch his eyes. 
You wondered how ladies would try to approach Alastor. You’ve known him for eight years, so you weren’t impressed by him anymore, if you wanted you would just jump on his back because you were tired and he would carry you home just like. No questions asked. You smiled without noticing, people might have found Alastor difficult to approached but for you, it was as easy as breathing.
You kind of wanted to see people trying to approach Alastor now…
“ Well, I just have to convince Alastor.”
~~
“ I’ll be delighted!”
You blinked, turning your head toward him. He was laying on the tree’s foot, seeming to be reading a book as you were sitting on the swing. It was snowing today, but you both decided to stay outside for a change. The forest was pretty hidden under a white blanket.
You went to Alastor’s house after parting ways with Alice. You did pay attention to the people around, but you didn’t see any man that would be stalking you. You were sure, if there was a stalker, that he would stalk Alice, not you. But Alastor has made you promise that you would pay attention so…
“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really seemed excited about it! 
“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. He tilted his head and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw a few leaves and snow on his hair. You sat next to him and began to take the leaves out of his hair. In two seconds, Alastor was laying back down on the grass but this time his head was on your thighs. He took his book back and continued his reading as you stroked his hair, looking at the sky.
What kind of dress would you wear? You never went to a soirée before, you needed to look your best, you wanted to impress Alastor. You’ve never really put too much thought into what you wore, you’ll have to ask Alice for advice… You wondered how Alastor was going to show up..
“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?” you looked at him, still playing with his hair, how could his hair be so soft to the touch? He didn’t move his gaze from the book, answering you with a teasing smile.
“ Why? ”
“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ and you didn’t want Alastor to be ashamed of you because of your poor choice of outfit. He stayed silent for a minute and then tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze.
“ Red suits you.” 
You stared in his eyes, the sun made them look almost caramel like. He was so lucky to be this handsome, really ,and he wasn’t even a full grown man yet. You pouted, looking away. How unfair.
“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?” 
“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.”
You looked at him and couldn’t help the smile sketching your lips. Well, if that’s what he wanted. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass. 
“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You chuckled at his reaction, you knew that Alastor was an amazing dancer, you just wanted to hear him laugh… 
“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back.
“ And I’ll make it so you wouldn’t ever consider another partner!” he took your hand in his with a soft smile, caressing your skin. You looked up as you heard someone coming and your eyes met Marie’s. She smiled softly at you, saying it was time for you to go home, she didn’t like you going home at night and didn't want you to catch a cold.
Alastor stood up, before taking his book. You stood up with his help, said goodbye to Marie’s and went back home with Alastor. Since the “stalker” evenement, he didn’t want you to walk home alone. You rolled your eyes at him but at least you could stay with Alastor a little while longer, so it was worth it. You walked together on the road of New Orleans, watching at the shop vitrines if it could give you some ideas for Alastor’s gift.
“ Hey, Alasto-”
You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. You let him take control of your body, letting him make you dance as he wished. Not too long after he made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile.
“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”
You smiled at him as he straightened you before offering his arm to you. You took it, as you kept walking toward your home and of course, as always, he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You stared at him until you couldn’t see him anymore and then you decided to enter your home.
“ Mom~ What would you think about celebrating Christmas’ Eve with Marie~?”
~~~
“ This is a disaster Alice !” 
You fell on your bed,head in your pillow ready to scream bloody murder. You haven’t found a single red dress that suited you. You hated every single dress you had tried ! And Alice’s soirée was tomorrow night ! You didn’t know what to do with your hair, with your makeup and you still didn’t have anything to wear ! 
“ I see… Well, it seems like it’s my time to shine ! Look what I’ve got you !” She took a bag from behind her and put it in front of your bed. You lifted your head from your pillow and opened the bag. Your eyes opened as you saw a beautiful black and red flapper dress. Your eyes were wide open, you’ve only seen this kind of dress with the riches folks. You stared at Alice, your mouth wide open without being able to put words together. “ I know you will look delicious like this, come on, try it on so we can find makeup and hairstyle to go with it!”
“ We can see my legs !”
“ We’ll wear stockings, don’t worry ! It’s almost 1920’s, come on!”
“ We’ll be in 1917 next month!”
“ That’s what I said, come on now!”
You undressed yourself before looking at the dress. It was very pretty and it was shining with so many sparkles… You dressed up and put on some heels and then you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked… like a woman. You really liked the dress… you moved around a bit, it was comfortable, you feel like you could dance with it! You could feel the flapper moving against your thighs with each movement. You blushed a little and looked at Alice who was staring at you with stars in her eyes.
“ Ooh, yes! You’ll look perfect ! Don’t worry, I’ll have some similar dress, you’ll not feel left out! Now, the makeup and the hairstyle my friend~.”
Oh dear.
~~~
It was the day. You were in front of your mirror. You were wearing your dress, your black heels, you had put a red lipstick on your lips and a bit of mascara. You were so nervous. What if Alastor found you absolutely ridiculous ? Oh you couldn’t live with the humiliation. You heard your door open and turned around to see your mother, staring at you with teary eyes.
“ Oh sweetheart, you look… Breathtaking, your father would be crying…” She went into your bedroom and hugged you which you immediately reciprocated. 
“ I don’t look stupid ?”
“ Baby, no. You look like a grown woman! Oh, how time flies…you're already sixteen...” she smiled before you heard someone ringing at your door making you tense. It was Alastor, you were sure of it. Your Mother smiled at you before winking and then she left you bedroom, going downstairs so she could open the door. You tried to hear what they were saying but you couldn’t hear anything…
You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror.
“ Come on girl. You’re going to an amazing soirée and you’ll enjoy every single second of it, okay?” you nodded at your reflection. Great.
You sighed and then left your bedroom. You took a deep breath and then began to walk down the stairs, your heels making noises against the wooden stairs. You heard Alastor and Marie’s voice getting closer. You saw your mother at the bottom of the stairs with an encouraging smile. 
“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”
You heard his shoes before finally seeing him.
Oh.
He was beautiful.
His dark hair was slicked back, he didn’t have his glasses on, he was wearing a dark redded suit and he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He was staring at you, his eyes wide open. You both stood there, without talking or doing anything else. You took a shaky breath before walking down the stairs until you were in front of him, thanks to your heels you were face to face with him. He was still staring at you with a straining smile. Did he find you ridiculous, did you try too hard? You kissed him softly on both cheeks and you heard him gulp. What was happening to him?
“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.
You felt his hand on your face, raising your chin up so he could meet your gaze. His smile was softer and his eyes still had this intense glint that made you relax.
“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You grinned as you stared at the beautiful flowers in front of you and then you looked at Alastor’s eyes. He didn’t even once let his gaze move away from you, it made you feel warm. You smiled brightly as your mother took the flowers from you, putting it in a vase. 
“ You both are so beautiful, but leaving before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one. 
“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. You were still feeling nervous but Alastor by your side, it was getting easier to just be excited about this party. You felt Alastor grip your arm tighter as you walked into a busy road. You tried not to bump into people, and after a thirty minute walk, you find yourself in front of a huge house. Was it a mansion?
You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours, as promised, but hers was white and blue. She looked almost angelic.
“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!” 
You walked into a huge reception room and there were already so many people inside. The butler took off your coat making you feel a little cold, so you just stayed against Alastor who put his arms around your shoulder. Alice introduced some of her friends, you could not remember every name, there were too many. Did Alice really know all of them? Some of them looked like real adults, and was that a band that was getting ready? You went with Alastor toward the buffet.
“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”
“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big.  Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie. 
“ Alastor, is it you?”
You turned to the voice and saw a beautiful lady. She smiled sweetly at Alastor who gave her his usual smile. Who was she? She began to talk with Alastor, ignoring your presence. You tilted your head, it was the first time someone came straight at Alastor with you next to him. She seemed so confident, you almost envied her. Almost. You were a polite girl, you wouldn’t interrupt them but you didn’t want to stand next to them too long, it would get boring quickly. You took a drink from the buffet and sipped it. It was sweet, you wondered what it was. You smirked, you could already imagine Alastor’s face at the disgustingly sweet brevage you just had.
You should prank him. You took another cup and turned toward Alastor before being startled by the band who began to play music. You almost dropped the cup, that was a close call.. You looked at Alastor who was being dragged by the lady toward the dancefloor. 
Wait what? 
You stared at the scene in front of you, as Alastor began to dance with her.
What?
“ Oh, who do we kill before Christmas?” You turned your head toward Alice who was trying to see what you were watching. “ Oh… Oh, yes. Jealous?”
“ No! I’m just .. surprised. I didn’t know Alastor had other female friends.. Come on, let’s dance.” you finished your drink and dragged Alice who eagerly nodded. 
You both danced with each other, smiling. It was fun! The band was playing some good tunes! She gave you a spin who landed you into someone's arms. You looked up and saw John, your school’s mate.
“ You look beautiful like this…” he said as he admired you. You nodded with a confident smile. You didn’t know why but you felt like the most powerful woman right now! He smiled at you, before looking away shyly. “ Care to bless me with a dance?” You laughed, so formal. You took his hand and danced with him, keeping your eyes open to match his steps. You did stop him from lifting you in the air though, you didn’t trust him to keep you up in the air but thankfully he didn’t take it badly.
You took a look at Alastor and couldn’t help but frown. He was dancing amazingly, as always, spinning the woman before tugging her against him. You pouted, you thought he only did that with you.
As the party kept going you were getting more and more agitated. Why was Alastor still not dancing with you? You didn’t know why, but most of the time you were a good girl but when Alastor was included, you could become the worst brat ever. You walked toward the buffet, took another drink and went toward the band, you needed to look confident. You spoke to the singer and he smiled before making some place for you. He placed the microphone in front of you and asked you what song you wanted to sing.
You smirked and asked for a song you and Alastor’s used to dance on when you were younger. You were watching the crowd, took a deep breath and began to sing. You stared at Alastor who was dancing with another girl but once he heard your voice he turned his head toward the scene , where you were standing. You couldn’t feel but something in your belly, just like that his attention was back on you. You saw the girl trying to keep his gaze on her and you smirked. Not today.
Today you were selfish.
You sang like there was no tomorrow, the crowd clapping their hands with the rhythm of the song, you didn’t think you ever sang this good. You had perfect control on your voice, you were even dancing on the stage as the band were giving their all with you. You looked at Alastor who was still dancing with the lady, even if you could see he was getting bored. Well, you could help. You began to sing with more energy, the band making the rhythm faster as well. You could feel your lips sketched into a mocking smile as you saw the girl not being able to keep up with Alastor. Perfect.
You went down the stage , still singing. The crowd parted for you and you couldn’t help but feel excited. You walked toward Alastor, he had his back on you. You slided your hand on his back making him flinch. He turned his head toward you with a surprised expression. You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking Alastor away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but you didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. You would have your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air. You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly safe. He promised he would always catch you if you were to fall.
You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world. 
And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You grinned at him before you both bowed to the crowd. You went back to the stage, giving back the microphone before going to the buffet, you needed some fresh water.
“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. You laughed at her reaction , it was just you being petty because Alastor wasn’t paying attention to you.
“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water.
“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.”  Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders.  You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time.
You had other dances with Alastor, before people were making little group. You were sitting on a table with Alice,John,Alastor and other people you dind’t know. You didn’t know why, maybe they drank some alcohol but the conversation which was proper began to turn toward something more… spicy?
“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady stared languidly at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?”  You were ready to tell the lady to back off, you didn’t want her to embarrass Alastor because he didn’t have his first kiss.
“ Yes, I have.”
Huh?
“ Oh, I’m not surprised. And you sweetie?” you felt everyone's eyes on you and you blushed. Even Alice had already kissed someone !
“ N-no, I have never.”
“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more as John was looking at you, seeming hesitant. 
“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly.  You frowned, why would he care! He already had his first kiss and he didn’t even tell you. You stood up.
“ I need some air, I’ll be back.”
You took a sip of your glass with the sweet juice and went out, in the garden. You heels hit the paving stone as you try not to burst out of… of what? sadness? angryness? You sighed as you stared at the stars in the sky, you felt the snow falling on your naked arms. You could even see the air you were breathing.
“ You are going to catch a cold.”
You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head.
“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.”
“ Why did you lie ?”
“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.
“ About your first kiss.”
“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. You felt anger sweltering inside you.
“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”
“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you.
You felt your body relaxed. You couldn’t be angry with him. He didn’t know. He wasn’t reading the same book as you. You have been so embarrassed when he had catched you reading a love story but at least you knew what a first kiss was! 
“ Alastor, a kiss isn’t… A first kiss is something you must share with a special someone. Your lips need to touch the other one.” you blushed as you looked away. “ I think.. Th-The lips need to move against each other an-and..”
You took a step back but his hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. You knew he was trying to find your eyes but you were so embarrassed by what you just told him.
“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red.
“ What..”
“ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, his eyes shining with that oh so familiar glint you were used to seeing each time he was looking at you. “ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”
“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile that made you feel warm inside. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to kiss you.
“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.
“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”
“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking at his lips then his eyes, you couldn't focus on something, you were stressed, you were nervous, you were excited. Your eyes were half closed when you felt his warm lips against your cold one. You looked at his eyes, his gaze piercing your gaze with an intensity too much to bear, you closed your eyes.
It wasn’t like in the book but you didn’t know why, you didn’t care. 
You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , you could still feel his breath against your mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.
“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?”
“ Alastor.”
“ How was it?”
“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. 
“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”
Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp
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a-hermit-pining · 1 day
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Sukuna as a House Husband
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Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Sukuna x Reader AN: Might be OOC but humor me people. Coming up Geto as househusband 🥰
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First few months of Sukuna's career as a househusband are nothing less than accidents that involved smoke alarms and questionable fire extinguisher techniques. The transition from malevolent kitchen to a less lethal one takes quite a minute.
From handing you Lunchables to becoming pinterest core this man takes quite a journey.
Everyday chores that start with ill concealed annoyance and were in the past pointedly pushed on to you are taken over the minute he notices the residues of shared lunch from another in your lunchbox.
How dare you accept someone else's food? The entire evening, Sukuna glared at the takeout pizza with enough intensity to melt the cheese. You swear the pepperoni visibly cowered under his icy gaze.
And the revelation that some random Joe- Shmoe, a pathetic nameless mortal, had lent you his lunch is enough incentive for this man get in action.
This old man has lived his share of luxury as the king of curses. So, the minute he decides to flex his culinary skills your lunches take an immediate promotion.
The obsolete cooking technique no one can replicate...? You bet he's pulling that.
Puts Uraume on the speed dial as the trials of kitchen begin for him. This time, though much to both their disappointment limited to animal meat.
Does not take long before both become grocery shopping buddies for life. Sukuna scowling at unfamiliar vegetables while Uraume patiently explains the difference between shallots and scallions to his Lord.
Weekends take a turn for the… interesting as you become their resident TikTok handler, phone propped precariously on the counter while they attempt to recreate the latest viral trends. Fruit Roll ice cream remains mind blowingly top tier in your household. Getting a reaction even from Uraume.
Sukuna preens under the praise at office potlucks, basking in the envious stares directed at your lunchbox. Every "wow" and "that looks amazing" fuels his ego.
But the real win? Insanely proud when he sees you take pictures of the lunches he makes and even more so when you show him the stories you post on the internet (save his old soul).
Deep into his retirement phase of immortality, Sukuna discovers the joy of aesthetic. This man takes one look at dark academia, gothic Victorian mood boards and not your living room looks like a lair worthy of a final boss villain (which, to be fair, it kind of already was)..
Super into thrifting or picking a random haunted piece of furniture to add character to your living space as he insists, despite your very real concerns about the wailing coming from the armchair at 3 am.
Still a baddie tho. Will get into fights with loud neighbors or bachelor pad finance bros when their trash isn't sorted properly. And it, unfortunately is your responsibility to drag this man back home.
Cleaning is where he draws the line. You will not spot Sukuna with a duster. Ever. So, hiring a cleaning service seemed like a brilliant solution. Except, Sukuna couldn't resist micromanaging their every move. The poor cleaning staff — a battle-hardened group of professionals — withered under his endless critiques on porcelain dusting techniques. Needless to say, generous tips were the only reason they continued to show up.
The King of Curses, a being who once feasted in halls of obsidian and dined on delicacies fit for gods. Yet, the peace and ownership of your little townhouse is sweeter than any other possession of past. His dirty little heart is endeared to his home with you.
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kaivenom · 2 days
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I just found your blog looking for Spencer white fics and yours are so good! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something between spider and a gn reader who finds it really attractive when he speaks French (cause that scene did something to me-)
Thank you for feeding the small amount of hbh fics🙏🙏
French cuisine
Summary: you go to Spencer's house and found him cooking, you decide to help him and you discover he can speak french.
Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x gn!reader
A/N: Sorry that this had taken so long, college is starting the final section before exams an i am going crazy. Words on cursive are the translation from french.
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It was an ussual Friday, you were going to Spencer's house, see some movies and eat popcorn. When you entered the house with the keys you borrowed, a french song was playing on the background, that was strange you thought, it must be his mother. Following the song, you found Spencer in the kitchen with an apron full of flour and humming the song.
"Look what we have here, the perfect 50's housewife," you joked while you get to hugh him from behind.
"Bonjour." he asked with a smile.
"Bonjour."
"Comment allez-vous?" you didn't understand anything and that made you question things.
"Wait, don't tell me you know how to speak french?"
"Yeah, i know, but i don't have to do it everytime... it's awful when people ask me: can you say something in french? or things like that."
"But you could have told me, i am your girlfriend." you tightened your grip among his waist and made a pout.
"I don't like to brag about it, but now you know."
"Yeah, right. What you said to me before?"
"How are you?" he turned around and kissed your forehead.
"Good, you?"
"Bon." something on the form he said it, made you blush.
"I suppose that means good."
"Correct." he put a finger with fluor on your nose, painting it white.
"Can you say more to me?" you make puppy eyes and like always, he can't resist.
"Tu es très belle," your heart skipped a heartbeat, you didn't know what he said but hearing him talking in french was exciting you more every secon. "i said you are very beautiful."
"Yeah?" his hands went to your cheeks and kissed you.
"Tu es la meilleure personne du monde." his lips drain your soul with every word and every kiss in between. You are the best person in the world
"Tell me more, please."
"Je t'aime... tes lèvres... ton corps... tes sons." his kisses increased, in speed, in intensity and passion, he was starting to feel very aroused by your reaction. I love you... your lips... your body... your sounds.
"I don't know what you said but i do too." you both laughed inoccently, for a moment unaware from the steamy interaction you both were having.
"Je veux faire du sexe avec toi." a moan almost escaped your mouth, you only understood one word and that was enough.
Then you started to smell burnt but apparently Spider was so concentrated in kissing your lips and neck, that he had forgotten he was cooking and also that he had things on the pans... that now are burning.
"How do you say the kitchen is on fire?"
"La cuisine est en feu." only a second was needed before he understood your words.
You both had to run to turn off the fire and open the windows to vent the kitchen. Nothing was saved from the disaster so you decided to order some french food to honor the ocassion and finish what you both started.
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A Danish Werewolf in The City
Sihtric's Lore.
Note: additional lore to my werewolf!Sihtric fic. 
Warnings: 18+! horror/gore/murder described.
Pairing: none, just Sihtric.
Wordcount: 1,7k
Masterlist
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Sihtric's eyes darted over the cut out pieces of newspapers, after he had taken the old shoebox they were kept in out of his last moving box. The lid had come off during the travel to his current location; his brand new house in a brand new city. He had recently bought the place as he had obtained a new job as a vet, another attempt to start all over again after his turbulent life. Sihtric had moved towns often in his lifetime, in order to keep his werewolf identity hidden, but now that he was a fully grown man and had his werewolf urges under control, he hoped he could finally settle down and stay in one place. It was the first day of his new life, but he would never be able to run away from his past completely, and he couldn't ignore the headlines that stared up at him.
He had kept all the news articles about his gruesome doings over the years, tucked away in the shoebox and always kept hidden far under his bed, wherever he resided at. The cut outs weren't trophies to him, like how some serial killers kept items of their victims as a fond memory of their deeds, in fact, these articles were the complete opposite to him.
Sihtric wasn't proud of his murders, and had kept the printed memories as a reminder that he never wanted to become like the beast from his past again. He never wanted to attack or murder again, with the exception of slaughtering wild animals which he simply needed to feed on in order to survive and still his hunger for blood. But never again would he want another innocent human-like being to be at the receiving end of his werewolf claws. He never wanted to kill again for no reason, nor if the reason was purely being revenge. But most of all, he simply never wanted to turn into his father, who had abandoned him from his pack and tribe.
Sihtric sat down on his bed and looked at the pages he had kept. Vivid memories came back to him as he could never forget awful murders he had committed and the horrendous attempts he had made to break the werewolf curse passed onto him. But nothing ever worked and he remained cursed until this very day. He had to live with the weight of his dark and bloody past on his shoulders for as long as his heart would continue to beat. Yet that weight was barely a punishment in Sihtric's eyes, for if anything, he felt his punishment should be death.
But death would be mercy, a mercy he did not deserve.
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Sihtric was barely 18 when his first shift happened during a full Moon. And it had happened in the small room he rented just on the outskirts of town, for the city centre was a place he could not afford to live in. Nor did he want to, as he tried to keep a low profile and did not need much space either. 
The small room, which belonged to a lovely old and retired couple, was located on the second floor of the house. His room held a single bed, an old tv and a clothing cabinet, all of which were used by many strangers before him as they came with the room. He also had a sink with stains on it that wouldn't come off, and a half broken mirror hung above it. There was a tiny improvised kitchen in the corner of his room, underneath the only window he had which couldn't open fully because a cupboard blocked it. The kitchen came with an old microwave too, which he used to warm up quick meals with every day, and the device was clearly a fire hazard.
His room was old and musty, with a worn out wooden floor while black mold decorated parts of the ceiling and walls. Sihtric had covered up the black patches on the wall with some posters, which he had secretly ripped out of a few car magazines in the shop down the street. The bathroom next to his room was shared with the old couple, who lived downstairs, and he occasionally passed them as he went up to his room. The couple liked Sihtric because he was quiet. They could tell he was troubled but, as he never really opened up to them, they let him be and never complained as long as he paid his rent in time. Sihtric was still young and struggled to afford living with the money he had, which he earned by delivering newspapers in the very early morning, before the town would wake.
Several full Moons before his first shift he began to notice a change inside of him. He always knew he had werewolf blood inside of him, as his father, Kjartan, was cursed to be a werewolf. Technically Sihtric belonged to the tribe of his father, but he was abandoned as a young boy, for his mother had been human and died while giving birth to him, and his mother was not married to his father. Kjartan was married to a werewolf lady but had committed adultery, with Sihtric as result and being a permanent reminder. A permanent reminder he wanted to forget, and so Sihtric was neglected and forced to leave the pack he never really seemed to belong to. And looking back, Sihtric was glad he got away from his father, for his father was a brutal killer, a foul beast, and he was nicknamed Kjartan the Cruel for his many cruel deeds to the innocent, both human and other creatures.
After Sihtric's painful first transformation, he felt incredibly powerful. He was in luck, for the old couple was away for the weekend during the full Moon, so they never heard the bone chilling sounds that came from his room as he snapped out of his skin. Sihtric was confused once transformed, but also hungry. So very hungry. And he had jumped out of his window, shattering the glass as he went through it before landing on all fours on the well kept lawn, and he then leaped around the neighbourhood, finding his way to the city centre as the scent of fresh human meat lured him…
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Sihtric's first kill was an awkward one, for he had no idea yet of how to control the beast he had turned into. He had sniffed out a meal, a student he found out a week later after the body was discovered, and he had stalked his prey while disguised as a black wolf. He followed the young man as he left the city and went into the quiet streets. It was dark and chilly outside, and Sihtric learned that night that winter time was an awful time for werewolves. 
Before the student could reach his front door, Sihtric had shifted into his gruesome werewolf form and, standing back on his large and hairy hind legs, he snatched the neck of the student's coat and hauled him into the darkened woods nearby. The terrified young man was silenced by his own fear upon seeing the hideous werewolf, while being dragged down to the thick trees and bushes, and what was supposed to be a fast kill ended up being a torturously slow one. The werewolf clawed at his thick coat, and its inner white fluffy filling was pierced by the monster's claws. Sihtric struggled to scratch the man's throat, for a thick scarf was wrapped around the neck and his claws were dull, as the coat's filling had gotten stuck to the sharp edges of his nails. Sihtric then lunged at his victim with his two hands, scratching the poor man's face all over until the body eventually laid lifeless underneath him after a cruel struggle.
Sihtric then tore off the scarf and ripped open the dead man's throat, blood spraying all over his dark fur as he tried to drink it as fast as he could. Sihtric groaned darkly as the blood began to spray less and less, and he used his large tongue to lick the remaining blood off the torn open neck. And then, still hungry, he attempted to tear off the thick winter coat, but it seemed impenetrable for the inexperienced werewolf. Sihtric fought with the zipper in the hopes of simply unzipping the coat, but his claws were too long to get a good hold of it and he lost his patience. He snarled and growled loudly, then delved his teeth in the coat and shook the lifeless body like a ragdoll until all upper clothing was completely torn. And then, on that dark and cold night, under the silver glow of the full Moon, the werewolf helped himself to the insides of his prey. And when his hunger was stilled and his dark fur smudged with blood and guts, he howled loudly at the Moon.
Sihtric had no idea how he had returned home after his feast, nor had any recollection of the fact he had apparently licked himself clean while in wolf form. All he remembered was that the old couple woke him up the next morning as he was asleep in their backyard. They were baffled at the fact Sihtric hadn't died of hypothermia, as they thought he had gone to a bar and returned drunk, having lost his keys and somehow all his clothes too on the way back, before he had fallen asleep on the lawn. Sihtric was embarrassed when he discovered he was without clothes, and he had a raging headache while the old lady was quick to wrap him in a warm blanket made of sheep wool, before preparing him some warm soup.
When the old man asked about the broken window, Sihtric slowly began to remember the night before and simply lied, saying he had no clue and that it must have happened when he wasn't home. His story made no sense at all to the couple, but then all of this could've happened to any young man who got drunk on Saturday night. 
Except they would never know that Sihtric had gotten drunk on human blood instead of alcohol. And they would never know he was the cause for the missing student, who was found dead in the woods a week later, an horrific event that shocked the entire city.
And for Sihtric… this was only the start of a very bloody, confusing and violent future.
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golbrocklovely · 15 hours
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complicated // sam golbach
A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)
prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader
trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam
word count: 4020
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.
I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.
God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.
Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.
And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.
The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.
And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.
This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.
I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.
If he can have fun, so can I.
~~~~
“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.
I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”
He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”
“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.
He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”
I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”
“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly. 
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”
He smirked, “Try me.”
I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”
Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.
He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”
“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”
I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”
“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.
Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”
I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”
Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”
“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.
I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.
“What do you want?” He asked.
I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”
“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.
I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."
“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.
“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.
He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.
He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”
I glanced up, “A year?” 
“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.
My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."
He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”
“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.
“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.
“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.
I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”
“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.
“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.
“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.
I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!
“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.
I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”
Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”
I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”
“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.
“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”
“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.
“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.
He hummed, “I know the feeling.” 
“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.
Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.” 
“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.
“What about me?” He chuckled.
“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.
“What do you wanna know?” He asked.
I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.” 
“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”
“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.
Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”
“Not many truly do.” I added.
“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.
“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him. 
He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”
I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”
“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”
I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”
“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”
I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”
“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.
“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”
“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.
“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”
I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”
“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.
“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.
He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”
“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.
He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”
I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”
“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.
I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”
Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"
He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."
I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his. 
They looked awfully nice....
I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.
Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.
Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”
I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”
“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.
I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.” 
“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.
I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."
He agreed, letting out a light laugh.
We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.
I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?
Fuck, I just... needed him.
Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.
“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.
That's all I needed to hear.
I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.
He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”
I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?” 
“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.
“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.
He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”
“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.
“Fine with me.”
He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.
I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.
He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”
“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”
“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.
“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”
“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."
“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.
“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.
I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire. 
Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.
Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.
Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.
He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”
“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.
“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter. 
As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.
“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.
“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.
He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."
I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”
He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”
Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.
“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.
“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.
“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.
My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”
“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.
I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.
His tip teased me, “You ready?”
I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”
He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.
I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.
But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.
Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.
“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.
“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”
“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.
He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.
He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?” 
I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.
Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”
I blinked, staring into his eyes.
“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.
His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”
He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”
I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.
“You need more?” Sam growled.
I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.
I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”
“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-
I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.
He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..
Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.
“You right there for me?” He hissed.
I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”
“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.
He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.
“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.
He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”
“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.
He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”
My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.
He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”
I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.
Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.
The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.
We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.
I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.
“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.
“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.
Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”
I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”
“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.
“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”
I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.
Definitely a bigger appetite…
26 notes · View notes
lydiimae · 16 hours
Text
Strains and Stresses
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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader
Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.8k
A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3
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You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.
Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.
For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.
From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.
You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.
He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.
It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.
After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.
You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.
It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.
You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.
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It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.
Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.
As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.
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"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.
You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.
You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.
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Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.
He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.
He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.
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You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.
At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.
Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."
He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.
The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.
"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.
Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.
You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.
"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.
He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper
"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.
He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.
When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."
He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.
You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.
"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.
He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.
He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.
An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.
How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.
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Disaster. Part 2. —Joao Felix.
summary: second part of disaster.
warnings: YES. +18. smut. unprotected sex, some choking kink, cursing, role play.
words count: +1.9k.
tag: @yourknightinshiningarm-or
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Yes. It was too late.
Kissing him had not been a good idea, it was clear. Nothing had been a good idea. Not the date, not having him bring you home, not letting him touch you, not kissing him in the first place.
It had all been a disaster. You shouldn't have listened to your friend. Now there were consequences and the consequences were going to eat away at your head for life but you couldn't help but run back to him and kiss him desperately before you locked yourself in your house.
Damn. You couldn't even think about it when he himself also ran to you and took you in his arms. You had missed his touch, his mouth, his warmth so much. You hated him so much. So much that every time you felt him near you, you wanted him to take you right there.
Your body longed for his touch, the fire in your chest could only be quenched by Joao, the thirst you had could only be quenched by him.
His kisses were going to your neck when he slammed you against the door of your own house, moans escaping your lips like desperate cries. And yet he hadn't really touched you yet. You were desperate. His hands moved across your belly, back and ass, they went back and forth, they couldn't stay still.
You wanted to hit yourself, to curse yourself, to scold yourself. But you were enjoying his mouth, you were lost in the feeling of pleasure and power. Everything had been a disaster from the beginning, at least you wanted to have some reward at the end.
You took his hand guiding him to your couch and with your arm you pushed him until he fell onto the cushions. His eyes were a jet black with a special glow that made you bite your lip, his mouth swollen and red and his body tense and needy for you. It made you feel powerful. You climbed on top of him, taking his jaw to kiss him. Hard and hot. Just like he was underneath you. Needy.
Your legs were at his sides and when his hands slipped into your shirt, you gasped as you felt his cool fingers caress your skin. He caught your lips as one of his hands went to your chest and squeezed it making you cry out in his kiss. On the fabric of your lace bra, he played with your nipple, giving it little deep touches, which drew moans from your throat. He had power over you too. And he knew how to show it.
His lips become like an addiction for you, you can't stop kissing him, his sweet taste has you cloying and you feel like you'll die to have them. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and lift it up your arms, so you help him take it off. Within seconds his fingers are on the clasp of your bra and he hurriedly removes it. His gaze focuses on your breasts and you try to cover them with an embarrassed look but he stops you and looks at you.
You have never felt ashamed of your body but with Joao it was different. It always was. Now you are an adult but deep inside you are still that teenager who lost her virginity to the same man who is touching her and vague memories come back to your mind.
Fuck him. You don't have to be ashamed of anything, so you gain confidence and show him that you've matured too. That you are not the same girl you were before, the one who let him take a part of you and break you. You want to forget about that Joao, the immature teenager who treated you like just another one and you want to enjoy this new Joao for your own pleasure. You can do it, you can also enjoy without feelings.
His mouth goes to your breast and when his lips take your nipple, you squeal holding his hair tightly. His tongue works wonders on your nipple while his fingers squeeze the other one free.
The wiggling in your hips seeks friction as you moan his name over and over, you are eager to feel him inside you, so much so that you can feel your wet heat soaking your underwear. Joao's bulge beneath your center makes you gasp. There are no words to describe what is happening, you can't find the ideas in your head to think.
The clothes on your body end up lying somewhere in your living room, your hands can't get enough when it comes to touching each other, your voices moan in tandem as you sit. Your body is on top of his at every moment, as you kiss, as you touch, as you look at each other.
He himself helps you settle on top of his lap preparing you to position yourself on top of him, you grasp the base of his cock and line it up at your entrance, stroking it a little on your wet lips, making you both gasp loudly. His gaze meets yours and he holds you tight as you sink into him, moaning as you feel his hard and hot cock opening up room in your tight walls. The connection between his eyes gives off pure sparkles that light up the atmosphere, gasps beginning to sound as he continues to try to settle inside you.
Your hands rest on his shoulders as his hands help you move over him. The movements are relaxed at first, taking time to feel, to enjoy, his lips placing small kisses on your neck, chest and breasts as you move up and down on his cock, holding onto his muscular shoulders. The sensation leaves you lost in a world apart, you can't see clearly, the atmosphere feels suffocating, so much so that you can smell the fluids of your bodies, making it more exciting.
Your voices sound in unison, moaning as the movements become harder and faster. You pull away from his mouth as the pressure in your belly begins to grow, you stretch your body backwards helping to support yourself with your hands on his knees as you continue to jump on top of Joao, who with his hand runs down your body, starting from your lower belly, up your belly and chest, until he anchors himself on your neck.
You let out a cry as his hand wraps around your neck, exerting a little pressure, making you explore a pleasure you've never felt before.
"That's it baby, move" he gasps at your intense frenzy.
You bite your lip so hard you feel the metallic taste in your mouth and squeal again and again as his hands press on your soft spots.
Damn it. Your vision blurs, your ears are dazed and the air starts to go out of your lungs. Your legs start to burn from the exhaustion of riding him but you can't stop not when you're so close to climaxing.
"Fuck, Joao, i'm going to come..." you scream moving even faster, so close to your orgasm.
"Hold on a little longer, baby" he asks at your near tremors.
You do your best to hold on, stopping your movements a little to settle back into him, your chest are pressed against each other and you feel his hands on your back, hugging you.
Your movements are slow, torturous, he is suffering, you can see it in his eyes. You want to make him understand that you have the power and that if he wants to come with you he has to give you something in return.
"Kiss me, baby" he says teasingly, panting but enduring your torture.
You try to hold on but you know you won't last long, you need it, you need to explode.
"I hate you, Joao Felix" you spit so close to his mouth you can feel him smile over your lips.
He opens his mouth to receive you but you don't kiss him, you just stand there, brushing his lips against yours as you start to vehemently jump on top of him again. You can't hold back as your walls begin to contract, as his cock feels so good inside you. Your movements are erratic, unrestrained.
You scream as your orgasm hits your center but Joao's lips take over to take your mouth and shut you up long enough, starting to kiss you fiercely. You feel his penetrations start to become violent, desperate to reach his spot as well and it's a matter of seconds when you feel his liquid spill out of you. Juices begin to drip down your thighs as his mouth continues to kiss yours. Your body feels weak, dazed and shaky, you fall limp in his lap, holding onto his hard chest.
You both lie there, Joao still inside you, as you try to regulate your breaths and settle your thoughts. Your chest rise and fall as his hands caress your lower back, warming you.
You have so many things to say, so many things to think but you can't move from there. Every second that passes you long for Joao more and you don't want to let go.
You were a disaster, literally.
The blind date was a disaster but at least you ended up fucking like the gods, now you feel it was worth everything. You're still mad at him though, you want to hit him and curse him but you want him to fuck you non-stop. Joao had always had that effect on you.
You really hated everything about him.
So much that you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him.
«Damn you, Joao»
He had turned you into a disaster.
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#idk if yall remember anything about a ~difficult person~ i have to deal with sometimes lol#but this is the one who had the ''''house fire'''' that was nothing#and her sister was my sister's friend but her and the mom ganged up on my sister to call her a bully and stuff#thats the most prominent stuff that's happened with them that i think ive posted about#(also none of this has anything to do with my therapy appt i mentioned earlier skdjskjd)#but yeah. they're just difficult people. a difficult family. and the best way to deal with them is to ABSOLUTELY AVOID THEM#UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES#which has been working pretty fine!!! the last few months!!!!#but yesterday?????? i got a random text?????? and#(ok the whole family is difficult but its a mom and dad and two daughters who are roughly the same age as me and my sister)#so i got a text from the older daughter. the one closer to my age. the one i have to deal with personally more than any of them#and she was like hi!!! i feel like we haven't talked in forever!!!! how are you??????#and she texted me while i was at work so i forgot about it for a little bit#but i just replied and basically just said im good how are you 💀💀💀#so nothing consequential has happened yet. but im very intrigued by the random text#and i wonder if my 'good how are you' response is gonna open her up to say smth real sjdhksdn#like is she gonna be like 'oh im good except I HATE YOUR SISTER' bc that's what that family usually likes to talk about 😐#or is she gonna complain about her weird secret boyfriend that she's probably emotionally abusing??????#yeah that's a whole DIFFERENT AND INSANE story#or is she just gonna be like haha good ! anyway#and not speak to me again for a fea more months#we shall see!!!!#(what is my life 😭😭😭)#no bc everyday i just said. that's all so petty and stupid. girlie we are almost TWENTY YEARS OLD. GET OVER IT. OUR SISTERS ARD 13?????????#AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!?!?!?!?¿?¿?
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redysetdare · 6 months
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every time i see a post that is like "ughh why cant we have aspec characters who aren't aroace for once" I have to do a double take like "is the aroace rep in the room with us right now?" because genuinely....where is all this aroace rep y'all are complaining about? Why cant i find it yet it's apparently the only aspec rep we get?? You admit that TV never says the word aromantic so where is the aroace rep. So far I've pretty much only seen canonically asexual characters and not much else buddy.
#text#half the time i think these ppl see other aspec ppl saying that x character feels aroace and then they take it as canon rep#instead of an interpretation of the character which likely was never meant to be written as aspec at all#because majority of people don't even know what that is#this isn't me saying that we shouldn't have aroallo or alloace rep btw#this is me complaining about people throwing aroace ppl under the bus because apparently we are 'hogging' all the representation in media#and it just reads as people being aphobic towards aroace people specifically and it drives me insane#you can ask for more aroallo and alloace characters without complaining and shitting on aroace characters????#like bro we are all on the same fucking team. we are all trying to get seen and understood. we all want to see ourselves in media#stop fighting like one of us is somehow way more privileged than the other because 'you have x rep'#we all have crumbs my guy. just because someone else is getting crumbs doesn't mean that its your crumbs being taken.#idk i see so many posts like this and it makes me feel so unwelcome in the aro and ace communities#im tired of aroace people being used as a scapegoat that you can target to pretend like you're punching up#when in reality you're just committing friendly fire against people who are on your team#i miss when the aro and ace communities used to like... work together as a big aspec community#now ppl r way too focused on separating them and acting like they have nothing in common and don't have the same goals#and both communities now tend to put a lot of blame onto aroace people because of stereotypes we never had control over in the first place#it's exhausting#like the aphobia is coming from inside the house#i didn't go through the ace discourse on tumblr to deal with this shit.
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#these past two weeks have been so intense that ive just.. not spoken about it once i got home from work#blocked it all out#my beloved colleague whose desk is next to mine has cancer#breast and uterus. she needs two major surgeries#they just diagnosed her two weeks ago#so we've been trying to deal with that as colleagues and friends#because we love and miss her and i am so deeply sad as well#but i feel like i couldn't process that at all bc two days after the news of her diagnosis i was asked to take on half of her work#on top of my fulltime#which i agreed to do bc i like her tasks and i want to help her and i also know i can do it#but it does feel very off bc i know i don't earn enough money for this workload to be long term and it is def like this#for the coming four months at least#so i did tell my manager that i would like a raise and. that bitch told me to BUY MORE SECOND HAND SHIT.#i seriously thought i saw my life flash before my eyes#then the day after she asked one of my colleagues who's been with the firm for over 30 years whether she was looking for another job maybe?#which caused that colleague to instantly go home in tears and be home from basically a nervous breakdown the past 1.5 week#which is her full right and i support her with all my heart but bc my management sucks it meant that we had to also carry her tasks ofc#i felt soooo spread thin and super super angry actually but i didn't even realise how angry i was until last thursday my colleague w cancer#came by the office. and talked about all of it. and i suddenly realised how sad i was but then also how angry#but i was just blocking it all out trying to stay afloat#bc we told her about what the manager had said and she said “i hope that i get the chance to really tell her how it is someday.”#“because the stress she causes with people can actually kill you. just look at me.”#and the rest of the day i felt so ready to be done with everything actually#but seeing her anger made me see my own anger#and released me of my own pent up emotions bc i had actual leg pains this week and it was purely psychosomatic#i then managed to tell some friends yesterday about what was going on and their outrage spurred me on even more#so today i emailed hr. demanding a raise#doing this amount of work while constantly feeling like the house is on fire while also struggling financially seriously makes me suicidal#and i am not joking#so.. if nothing comes of that im leaving that job and not looking back
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anotherpapercut · 9 months
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sometimes people will ask me about working in a library and I have to find a gentle way to tell them they literally would not last a day working in a public library
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