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#it was just another excuse to rip apart the stage show
nyxdelanuit · 6 months
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Hear me out: zombie apocalypse Suga x reader with reader saying: "Because...I still I love you."
I wasn't too sure of this one, zombies aren't usually the apocalypse I go for... but I think it turned out okay! Hope you like it~ Send in a character and a word or phrase for a mini-fic!
Sacrifices
TW: Zombie apocalypse based violence
You had thought- rightfully at the time- that the night you had spent the night with Suga, running hand in hand from the consequences of the meddling Suga had pulled you into, would be the most trouble you would get into. Lungs burning as you ran, trying to hold back laughter as Suga tried to argue that he really had only been trying to help, and it wasn’t the two of you who were in the wrong if they misunderstood. You couldn’t even remember what Suga had talked you into doing, only the irritation on Daichi’s face, the appalled gasp from Asahi, and the shrill cackling of Tanaka and Noya. The way Daichi’s voice echoed after you as Suga took your hand and ran, trying to remind you that this was an official event and not a vacation. It was laughter that had put tears into both of your eyes that night, collapsing into a heap on a hallway floor, lit dimly by vending machines as Suga’s breathless excuses filled the air. 
You couldn’t remember who had caved first back then. If one of you had said your feelings out loud… or maybe it was sitting so close, leaning up against each other, that made you give into the urge to kiss him. Either way, it ended up the same, a whirlwind romance that burned bright and burned fast. A summer of laughs and holding hands and falling asleep with your head on his shoulder before college came and ripped apart the summer’s dreams. 
It hadn’t ended badly, you were still each other’s cheerleaders in everything you did. He had made it his mission to make sure you didn’t drift away. Coffees on weekends, study sessions before the end of every semester, and he made sure to show up with the most ostentatious bouquet when you finally walked the stage for the last time. 
Now the two of you would meet up for dinner or a movie night, share a few drinks, and vent about your work lives. You would force a few stories out of Suga about all the children he secretly adored in his classes, hiding the way you would admire him as his smile softened with each word. 
That’s how you ended up in this mess. You had been getting ready for another night in with Suga and ignoring the weirdly frequent sirens outside. You belatedly wondered if the irritation you felt at not being able to find any place that would deliver dinner should have been curiosity instead. Maybe you would have been more prepared. 
You were blissfully ignorant until Suga burst into your apartment, panicked as he searched for you, finding you wide-eyed and startled in your kitchen. You had never seen him like this before, his hair pushed back and sweat dripping into his eyes, his whole body sagging in relief before he pulled you in tight to his chest. After a moment, not even long enough for you to react and hug him back, he pulled you away to arm’s length, looking you over so carefully. 
He hadn’t known how to explain everything to you, only asking you to trust him, and how couldn’t you? And instead of being curled up on your couch with ramen put together by whatever you found in your cupboard, you were trying not to trip as Suga’s iron grip led you through the city streets. It was eerily reminiscent of the time you ran through the hotel halls, the difference being the way Suga was talking to you.
There was no laughter lacing his voice, but you could still hear the slight panic. Panic of being caught by someone- something. 
“Hurry up! He’s catching up!” replaced by “Just keep going, just a little further.”
“Is he still behind us?” drowned out by the sound of stomping behind you and Suga desperately looking back, trying to keep his voice even as he locks eyes with you and says, “Just keep your eyes on me.”
You wished you had listened to him. If you had accepted his protection from the world around you, you wouldn’t have the blood burned into your sight. You wouldn’t have noticed the grimace on Suga’s face as he abandoned someone just like the two of you, just to make sure he could get you somewhere safe. You never would have watched as a girl you knew sobbed to her boyfriend, clinging to his shoulders until he bit into her neck.
He only allowed you to stop when absolutely necessary. The part of town you had made it to was eerily quiet but familiar. Suga worked nearby, and you thought you had heard earlier when he was packing your bag and rushing you out that he was going to get the two of you to the storm shelter near the elementary school. Now that you knew what you were dealing with, it made sense. Suga knew this area better than his own home, and the storm shelter would be easy to lock down and stay in until this all… 
It will blow over, right? 
A few minutes of panting in silence and passing Suga’s massive teacher water bottle back and forth, and Suga was urging you to your feet again. 
“Come on, we’re close. I know you haven’t run laps since high school,  but you can make it that far, right? There’s electricity at the shelter, we can continue our movie night there.” His smile was present on his face, although it was a bit hollow. You knew it was for your sake, but you couldn’t find it in you to comfort him right now. You quietly accepted his hand instead, letting him pull you up and taking a deep breath as your forehead fell to his shoulder. Just a little more to get you through…
He let the two of you walk through the streets instead of running. Running would draw more attention to you here than walking, and it was easier to avoid the few… whatever they were if you were quiet. If you looked up at the sky, you could easily convince yourself that Suga was just walking you home, hand in hand, after a long day at work. That thought let a familiar warmth spread through your chest.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you ran right into Suga as he stopped. His hand tightened around yours before holding on loosely, taking a half step forward. You peeked over his shoulder to see what had made him stop so suddenly. And you understood immediately.
A boy, no older than 6 or 7, walked in the street ahead of you, trying to pick up his ball and kicking it forward every time he leaned down. It broke your heart to see him out here, all alone. Not knowing what was going on around him. Suga dropped your hand entirely as he walked closer, quiet and calm. 
“Takeru, it’s me… what are you still doing out? Class ended hours ago…” The way he spoke to the boy only made the ache in your chest deeper. Of course, it’s one of Suga’s students, one of his favorites too, judging by the stories you’ve heard. You stayed back, not wanting to startle the boy if Suga could keep him calm. 
The little boy didn’t answer, still focused on his ball. 
“Takeru, can you tell me where your parents are? Are we close to your home?” As the silence stretched, a heavy feeling settled in your stomach. It only grew worse as you watched Suga kneel on the ground, trying to get Takeru’s attention. 
The boy finally reached his ball, holding it awkwardly in his hands as he straightened up. You felt Suga’s gasp in the depths of your soul before you heard it, felt his heart break as if it were your own. 
The poor boy’s eyes were blank, the side facing away from you now revealed to be wet with crimson. A sickening gurgle escaped his throat as he caught sight of Suga, frozen on the ground with an arm stretched out to him. 
You hadn’t even felt yourself move before you had thrown yourself between Suga and the boy, hearing Suga fall back with a shuddering sob. The boy was racing towards you, and the only thing you could feel was the heavy weight of Suga’s metal water bottle meeting the poor child’s head, throwing him to the ground. 
You weren’t completely ignorant of what was happening. You had seen enough movies to know one hit was never safe enough, so you made sure that little boy wouldn’t be getting up until you could make sure you were safe, placing a knee on the center of his back to hold him down.
“W-wait… You shouldn’t have to do this… I-I’ll do it.” Suga stood, shaky on his feet and white as snow as he looked at Takeru, blood slowly oozing from the new cut on his head thanks to you. His eyes didn’t register Suga, only trying to claw at the ground underneath him to get to his prey. 
“No, Koushi. Let me do this for you.” Despite what you knew you had to do, you looked over at Suga with a soft smile. “He was your student. You shouldn’t have to do this. Turn around, Koushi. I’ll be there in a minute.” He looked at you in disbelief, eventually nodding as he tried to scrub away his tears, turning his back to you. 
From the corner of your eye, you watched him flinch with each thud, each time the sound grew more wet, dissolving into a messy squelch. You focused on him instead of the slimy warmth covering your hands, the splatter on your face. Trying to separate what you were doing from the happy child Suga told you stories about. 
After a few minutes, you walked back to Suga’s side, wiping away the gore on your jacket before tossing it away. You tugged at his sleeve, not wanting to grab his hands with yours such a mess. He nodded, continuing on without looking back. 
“Why… You shouldn’t have had to do that, so why?” You held tighter to sleeve, hoping he could feel it.
“Koushi, you are a wonderful teacher. I don’t think you could have gone through with it. And if you did, I’m not sure you could live with yourself after… and because… because I still love you.”
You didn’t press him to respond, but the way his hand slid into yours, replacing the sticky warmth from earlier with his own… that was the best answer you could have asked for.
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cursedshortcake · 3 days
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Current mental health shit below the cut. Don’t read if you’re not in a good headspace.
I haven’t really talked about this because it’s been too painful, but my beloved chihuahua Padme has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. The prognosis is not good… usually it’s anywhere from 8 months to 2 years but because of how rapid it has come on, the vet said she doesn’t think Padme has that long.
The good news is that the meds that she is taking to keep her comfortable are working. Her last X-rays show some improvement but her bloodwork is not looking good. She has an autoimmune disease that has no known cause so I was afraid that this would come up with this new diagnosis, and unfortunately it has. The vet is keeping a close eye on her numbers but we’re due back in a couple of weeks for more blood tests and X-rays.
I have been completely devastated for weeks by this news. Padme is everything to me. I have known her since she was born. In a tiny litter of puppies, I saw her and it was love at first sight. We have been through so many big life events together that have shaped me in both good and bad ways.
When I was in the ending stages of an abusive relationship, I found comfort in her. When I moved ten hours away from everyone and everything I had ever known, I had her to lean on. When I was working on myself, I had her right by my side. When there were nights that I didn’t want to be here anymore, I knew she needed me and that kept me from doing the unthinkable. She was with me when I got married. She was with me when I bought my first home. Through everything, it’s always been me and her.
She has been my constant companion for 12 years. Every night she sleeps with me. I can’t sit down anywhere without her snuggling into my side or crawling into my lap. I can’t work upstairs without her crying at my husband that she needs to be up there with me. She’s my lovable leech.
She has love for others (so much more than you’d think for a chi) but everyone knows who her mama is. Who her favorite person is. And she is my favorite too. I would do anything and everything for her no matter the cost or battle.
So when I say I am torn apart over this, I mean it. My heart is broken. A piece of me will always be hers. My life will be completely changed without her. She’s so ingrained into my every day that I cannot imagine life without her.
I’m trying to soak up the time we have left but it’s incredibly hard not to break down thinking this might be our last night or our last cuddle if her heart suddenly gives out. I still cannot talk about it without bursting into tears. Even talking to my therapist ends with me sobbing.
So if I’m rougher around the edges, if I’m not as talkative, if I’m more sensitive, if my words are sharper and harsher, it’s not you. It’s me. That’s not to excuse any future behavior, just to explain it right now. I’m not in a good place and I probably won’t be for quite awhile.
When it’s her time, I’ll probably lock all the blogs again and post an announcement but for now, I ask that you give me some grace and understanding while I navigate my grief. It’s weird to say it like that when she’s still here but that’s what this is for me.
On top of this, I have had two friendships dissolve in ways that have left me lost and broken. Two safe places that I created with those ex friends have been ripped from me when I needed those spaces the most. I’m not sure how to navigate this at the moment but I may go on another break and purge my blogs of things to help me move forward. I’m trying not to act on emotion but it’s extremely difficult not to just delete everything and disappear completely.
It wouldn’t be fair to my other friends to do something so drastic. Or to myself I guess. I’m feeling very lost right now and I don’t know how to handle it. Hence why I’m awake at 3 in the morning crying my eyes out but with everything going on, I guess this makes sense.
I’m rambling now. I probably shouldn’t post this. Maybe I’ll just delete later. Yeah… gonna delete later. Thanks for reading I guess lol.
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carryingthebanner · 3 years
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okay my unpopular opinion is that the 92 movie and the broadway version each have their charms and neither is inherently better or worse than the other and fansies that fight about it or bash one version are big meanie heads
I partially agree!
92sies tells the story better and it focuses a tad bit more on the background Newsies (like Spot, Race, Boots, etc.), which I love.
(Bway) Newsies is an overall better musical (the songs, music and choreography are absolutely amazing and much more organized than 92sies (if that makes sense)).
While I do agree that they both have their strengths and weaknesses, the stage adaptation will always win in my book.
However, I do agree about the people who constantly badmouth Newsies for the stage vs Newsies for the screen, it needs to stop.
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rommahh · 3 years
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+18
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[furrrr. He makes me think things.]
After the show you could just tell that Harry was going to be in a mood. His confidence on stage left you feeling a pool of wetness between your thighs. Also the fur on the suit was your pick tonight and just to see him in it? You were a goner.
Harry declined every after party and dinner invite- his excuse being a confident, “gotta take my girl to the hotel.” This comment left you embarrassed and red in the face but your stomach churned with excitement.
The door was barely unlocked before he launched at you. He gripped, groped, and rubbed any part of your body he could touch. Your dress was the first to go, right in front of the freshly closed door. He lifted your nude body up, walking blindly to the bedroom.
Throwing you onto the bed, he was quick to rip your panties off. Your lips were exposed to the cold air making you whine at the feeling. Harry smirks above you while removing the suit jack. His hands fumble with the buttons of his pants but as soon as they were unbuttoned, the pants and the briefs went down together.
“Gonna fuck you so good.” He promised hovering over you. You nod at him eagerly, mouth watering at his hard cock. It stood loud and proud, precum dancing at the tip.
“Please baby, please.” Your begging fed Harry’s ego. He growled at you before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanked you towards the edge of the bed, pulling you to your knees. A hand on your spine forced you to arch, your ass high in the air and chest shoved Into the mattress.
The teasing movements of his cock between your lips made your legs quiver. I’m one fell swoop he shoved himself into you making your chest tighten with a sob of pleasure.
He pounded into you with rigor, hitting the spot every time. His low groans resonated in chest all brought out from the right warmth of your hole. It gripped and brought him back in with every thrust.
“My fiancé takes me so well. Takes whatever I give her.”
He reached forward to lean over your back, one hand weaving into your own to hold. That alluring tightening feeling formed in your core, a build up of pleasure waiting to be released. And released it did. From the mix of his cock hitting your g-spot to the feeling of his hot chest against your back.
Your release coated Harry’s length, warm and slippery. Harry couldn’t contain his own orgasm, spilling deep inside of you. Pulling out he pulled your cheeks apart to watch his seed seep out of you slowly. His fingers pushed deep into your cunt, fingering his cum into your hole. It felt too good, your moans were loud as Harry caressed your inner walls with his fingers. Those fingers curled into you building another orgasm. The sounds of you wetness on Harry’s fingers echoing around the room took you over the edge. The sheets rumpled under your harsh grip as your second orgasm of the night racked through your body.
Harry stood behind you, his body relaxing having ravished your body. Sweat beads rolled down his back and chest mixing with the sweat he produced from the concert.
“You ok?” He asks lying beside you. You could only nod. His hand rubbed your back making you melt further into the bed. “We should go test out that fancy jet bathtub.”
“You set it up and I’ll meet you there.” You finally say.
The bath was just what you two needed. Mountains of bubbles and the sweet aroma of your rose essential oils surrounded the two of you. He cradled you between his legs, washing away the sweat and grime from the concert and love making.
“Harry?” You whisper with closed eyes.
“Yes lovie?”
“Will you order me some pizza?”
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chiwhorei · 3 years
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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭
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cross-posted to Ao3!
pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader
genre: smut, 18+ mdni
word count: ~4.4k
tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited
a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come. 
the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani
hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich
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and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy
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A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 
You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 
It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.
How the fuck did you get here?
***
You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.
“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.
Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget. 
“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots. 
“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.
You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing. 
“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.
Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space. 
“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.” 
You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance. 
Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West
The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.
 You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest. 
He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”
“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.
He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil. 
“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.
“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.” 
“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.
The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.
You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.
The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.
“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.
You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.
“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”
If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle. 
“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.
Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.
“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.
“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--
“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.
You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins. 
“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”
A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.
Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.
“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.
You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.
“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”
You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--
“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.” 
That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet. 
You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back. 
“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”
“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~” 
“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.” 
The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.
Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice. 
* * *
The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.
Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.
You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.
Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming. 
 Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.
Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.
His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding. 
Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.
His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.
 All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.
He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention. 
Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines. 
He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.
Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?
All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.
Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.
“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?” 
You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?
You do. Against any better judgement, you do. 
He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke. 
Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--
The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.
Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.
You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough. 
His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.
“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”
His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.
He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.
You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.
Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.
Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.
His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck. 
He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.
The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.
Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.
You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil. 
He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago. 
To please Issei.
He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color. 
Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.
He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.
The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs. 
Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.
The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.
The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.
* * *
You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into. 
A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 
You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 
It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head--
“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do. 
Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back. 
“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap.  Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome. 
What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges. 
When was the last time you felt this alive? 
He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map. 
And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.
You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.
“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?” 
Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.
You don’t.
Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls. 
“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.
“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”
Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.
Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.
His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood. 
You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.
“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.” 
A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses. 
Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.
Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.
You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?” 
Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.
Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.
“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.
You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.
He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.
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all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️
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foli-vora · 3 years
Text
more than words - pt.1
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A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?
Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)
pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6
+++
Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.
“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”
“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”
“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”
You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”
He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”
You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”
He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”
You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”
This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.
Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.
You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.
He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.
“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”
“Sorry, what?”
“What?”
“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”
Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”
“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”
“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.
“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.
He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”
You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.
You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”
“Shut your mouth.”
Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”
“Fish.”
… what?
“Come again?”
“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”
“Your age?”
“Bit older.”
You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.
“I don’t know, Ben –”
He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.
Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”
You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.
+
“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”
Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”
“Where you been hiding her?”
“She moved away – only came back late last year.”
Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”
Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”
His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”
Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”
Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.
“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.
He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”
Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”
Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”
Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.
“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”
“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”
Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”
“Sounds like you are.”
“Quite the opposite.”
“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”
“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”
“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”
Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.
“… alright.”
Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”
Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.
Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?
+
Tags: @anu-simps​
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thesmokingguns · 3 years
Text
Wedding Season
Tommy
-Welcome to the Wedding Date expert
-Getting ready together and he matches his bow tie to your dress
-“Can you help me?” Helping him tie his bow tie and he uses the moment where you’re so close that he can kiss you
-Well you’re finishing getting ready he makes sure the car is out front.
-“Wow, babe, you’re going to make the bride jealous”
-Double checking to make sure that you have the gift and adding more money to the card
- Hes so excited to go to this wedding together and have a good time celebrating people
-Hes going to talk about all his favorite parts of the ceremony and things that he enjoys or would want in the future
“I love love”
-He is a wedding guest expert. He seems to know all the wedding coordinators and people working the event
-“Hey Sherry, another beautiful event!”
-He brings you a glass of champagne during cocktail hour and wants to talk about the vows
-“I don’t want to get married in a church. Maybe a cool Japanese garden or on the beach. I’d write my vows too. None of that obey shit. What do you think, babe?”
-He tips the band at cocktail hour and drags you out, making you laugh as you dance
-Introduces you to all his friends
-“I can’t wait to see you in a white dress”
-He is slamming his silverware against the glass to have the couple kiss all night
-Tommy will wander off to talk to someone so he’s not by your side all night but he waves at you and sends smiles your way
-He comes up with a plan so you catch the bouquet and he gets the garter
-“Throw some elbows of you have to”
-He breaks a chair jumping off it to catch the garter and almost lands on some guys.
-He offers to pick you up and give you extra height so you catch the bouquet
-“THATS MY FUCKING GIRL!” he’s amped that you caught the bouquet
-He thinks he’s going to something so sexy putting the garter on you but as he gets a view at what would be your underwear he sees you’re not wearing any.
-“Babe!”
-Laughing because you knew exactly what was going to happen as he slides the garter on you in front of his family. He’s blushing and it’s both cute and hysterical how flustered he is
-Tommy putting his jacket over your shoulders as you head up to the hotel room after
-“We should get married this summer”
-You’ve been dating for two months and it’s March
Vince
-Imagine that you’ve just spent two hours getting yourself fully ready and you’re about to leave for a wedding and down the stairs comes your man child boyfriend fully dressed in a three piece tuxedo complete with a top hat alll in white
-“What do you think?”
-He does a spin, pulls the lapels of his jacket and is smiling proud of his outfit.
-Dragging him to his room to change into a new suit
-Pouty Princess in the passenger seat of the car as you drive to the wedding
-Trying to reassures him that when it’s his wedding he can wear a white suit
-“You’ll let me wear white to our wedding?”
-He’s so sincere when he says it’s so he is holding your hand you agree even though it’s been over four years and he hasn’t really showed any interest in settling down
-Vince will talk shit about everything that he doesn’t like
-He keeps referring to “our” wedding
-he takes full advantage of the open bar and he just is getting hammered
-“I think I want pink and white roses. Like a whole fucking garden of them.”
-Having to tell him to stop talking about a fake wedding at a real wedding
-Pouty Princess gets really mad and goes to pout at the bar
-He gets up on stage and starts singing because he hates the live band
-Coaxing him off stage promising that you’ll dance with him
-“I want to go home. This club sucks.”
-Just reminding him that you’re at a wedding for your close friends
-Vince goes outside and you spend twenty minutes looking for him. You follow the sound of someone puking and find him wiping his mouth
-“they gave me the cheap stuff, honey. it’s not my fault.”
-He won’t be dragged out of the garden easily and you’re fucking horrified when he gets down on one knee at a wedding
-“Honey, I love you so much. I’ve been trying all week to figure out the best place to do this-“
-he suddenly is patting his suit and realizes that he changed before they left
-“We need to go home.” He’s standing up and you want to die of embarrassment as he’s dragging you through the wedding where a few of these people just saw him on one knee
-Anxious leg bouncing in the car, window down because he might puke again
-He’s falling up the stairs when he gets home ripping apart his white suit.
-Running down the stairs he finds you and gets down on one knee again
-“I have the ring this time.”
-Hes kind of a huge idiot but you like that he has a plan. Also you’re worried because you’re going to marry bridezilla
Mick
-If it wasn’t one of his bandmates weddings he wouldn’t be going
-If he wasn’t in the wedding party there is no way that he would wear a suit
-When he is waiting with one of the bridesmaids he’s paired with hands him her flask
-“I’m trying to stay sober to keep everyone in check”
-She scoffs and he turns to see her chugging it down before giving him another chance go to take it., which he does downing the rest of it.
-Trying to make sure all the guys are doing the right thing and keep everyone alive
-Taking pictures he finds out that the mystery bridesmaid is the brides best friend from childhood
-“I’m going to the bar.”
-He decides he needs to just have sex with someone at the wedding as a reward for actually coming here
-Looking at the wedding guests and wondering if he’s going to be alone forever
-Thinking about what a waste weddings are and how they should have saved their money
-Knows that bride shouldn’t be in pure white
-The flowers make him sneeze
-The bridesmaid is at the end of the bar and he is suddenly handed a drink she has bought him. He watches as she cheers the airs downing the three fingers of white alcohol in one sip before walking away.
-“Oh no you fucking don’t.”
-He is trying to find this girl who keeps showing up with alcohol
-Mick keeps loosing his clothes. His jacket is lost, his vest is unbuttoned and the bow tie is untied
-“Fucking Women”
- he spots her headed into the elevator and frowns when it closes. When it reopens he sees red lipstick kisses around 7
-“If she put her mouth on that...”
-He’s slamming the lucky number 7 as fast as he can
-When the door open he sees a shoe and a few paces away another one.
-As he’s walking and sees her dress and her underwear is hanging on the doorknob
-“Women like this is why I’m never getting married”
-He opens the door and he’s glad he made it go the wedding
Nikki
-“Angel, you’re going to make us late!”
-He is indiffernt about going to weddings. One part of him likes socializing and seeing people and the other part of him hated leaving the house
-Checking his watch and getting ready to go through you over his shoulder so they could leave
-When he sees her coming down the stairs he doesn’t want to go to the wedding anymore and he lets her know
-Nikki kind of is a huge show off so we plans on pulling up in this Porsche
-He wants to spend the entire time with his lady
-Even as they sit through the vows he’s reaching out running his hand over your hands
-Leaning over to whisper, “This reminds us of our wedding.”
-kissing your knuckles
-Always touching you and seeming almost anxious whenever of you steps away
-Hand on your back when you’re talking to other people, holding your hands when you’re walking and just a weakling his arms around to kiss as much as possible
-“I’m so happy you’ll always be my wedding date, Angel.”
-Checking in throughout the night to make sure that you’re okay and having a good time
-“excuse me, I’m going to steal her for this song”
-Has requested your wedding song and is slow dancing telling you all the reasons that he loves you
-Nikki loves holding you when you dance even if he hates dancing
-Taking you out to cool down and walk along the beach together
-He throws down his jacket sitting on it and pulling you into his lap
-He had literally scoped out a place where you two could make out or go further
-“you looked so beautiful, Angel. I couldn’t wait until we got home”
-Going back to everyone at the party and he’s just giving you this look the whole time like he can’t get you out of his mind
-Nikki talks to the groom about what makes marriage so great
-“You wake up to the most beautiful view every morning no matter where in the world you are”
-Being at the wedding just reminds him how happy he is to be married
-Watching his wife dancing with the girls and smiling at how she always has fun
-When Nikki’s at the bar with the guys he sees you bent down talking to the flower girl and starts thinking of you as a mother
-Nikki knows it will be a few years away because he can’t share you yet
-Smiling when you slide into his lap, holding you to him and knowing you’re going to leave soon
-“I love you.”
-Wedding season is the best for this sentimental gummy bear
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suddenlysackler · 3 years
Text
Limelight
Adam Sackler x Reader
TW: N/A (maybe a lil smidge of angst but nothing major)
A/N: This has been on the back burner for quite a bit and it’s a tad messy but I wanted to put it out for you all because I miss you and I miss my goblin bf and, ya know, Cannes 2021. Thank you for reading, I’m hopeful that I’ll be back more frequently in the coming weeks!
...
Adam Sackler had ascertained very quickly that he did not care for red carpets in the slightest. 
Given what he had found himself struggling through his late teens and seemingly all of his twenties, the relief of finally, finally, finally achieving some sort of steady stream of work and establishing himself as a serious actor provided relief that he could not be more grateful for. 
He liked being able to turn down the $800 a month from his grandmother and moving out of his apartment for good this time, trading up for some swanky new town house in upper Manhattan. He liked being able to afford to be choosy about what jobs he took and he liked that he was able to split his time between stage and screen. Hell, he’d even tried his hand at directing some dumb indie film that landed him right smack dab in the middle of Sundance.
Which is when he found out he hated red carpets.
He absolutely hated the insincerity of all of it — the rushed interviews, the posing for what seemed like hours on end for photographs that he’d probably never even see and he wasn’t allowed to smile for exactly like he’d want to. He hated answering the same questions over and over again and rubbing elbows with reporters from tabloids asking about off screen romances and making it blatantly clear to him that they weren’t interested in the art he had just helped create.
Along the way, maybe five red carpet events into his career, he met you. To his surprise, he didn’t meet you through a mutual friend or at a party or by yelling at you to stop taking food from open containers in the store he was working in. He met you because he accidentally took your coffee on a Wednesday morning before you could grab it and you promptly chased him down 45th street and cussed him out by using every single insult you could manage.
And that’s when things just clicked for him.
Everything fell into place after you came into his life and suddenly he felt even more fulfilled than he originally figured was even possible. He liked coming home to you after long days on set or at the theater. He liked bringing you to see different projects he was working on during production or bringing you to advanced screenings or dress rehearsals. Whenever he got a script, you were the first one he talked to about whether or not to even try for the role. He never wanted to object you to the horror that was a red carpet.
Not until now, anyway.
It was the first time that you had happened to be available for one and, yeah, he had invited you to all of the ones he had been to since you had been together but he didn’t necessarily want to take you. Of all of the things in his world that he wanted to show you, premiere events were the one thing he wanted to shelter you from. You knew about the drinking, the philandering of his early to mid twenties, the string of psycho ex girlfriends who he swore might show up at your shared doorstep at any given time to rip him a new one. Despite all of that shit, you’d some how managed to still like him, love him even. He didn’t want to chase you away with the bullshit that came with his career.
Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back?
You’d said yes without hesitation and his stomach dropped. He knew you never turned down an excuse to dress up, to impress him and make him feel proud of the fact that you were his girl, just his. So, on the night of the Tony Awards, he sat in the hotel room his manager had reserved for the two of you to get ready with the help of a team of aestheticians and hair dressers and tailors watching you twirl in what was probably the most expensive ball gown you would ever wear in childlike delight. Music of your choice played softly on someone’s phone and you could hardly stay still enough for the finishing touches that were being pushed into your face. You looked and felt like a million bucks and Adam knew that, but how was he supposed to enjoy it? He was too preoccupied with figuring out what he would do if you freaked out on him, threatened to leave him or some shit, after the circus act you were about to parade through in order to get to your final destination of the night.
“You look handsome.” You called from the chair you had been forced into, eyes opened wide for quick swipes of mascara.
Adam was so far gone, lost in his thoughts and strapped with worry. He didn’t hear you compliment him. He didn’t see you get up and he felt as though the force of you slotting yourself between his slightly parted legs was a ghost of a touch. “Hey, doll.” He mumbled when he finally did notice you.
One of your eyebrows quirked up. “You good, Adam?” 
He sensed some wavering in your voices, maybe some concern. Maybe some doubt? “I’m okay, just hate this shit.”
The other eyebrow followed the first. “What do you mean you hate this shit?” You ask as his publicist swept into the room and began to shoo the two of you out the door and down to stand for pictures and questions. 
He held your hand tightly as you weaved down the hall and into the elevator. “I just don’t like this part.” He shrugged and you squeeze his hand as you listen. “Worried it’ll bug you as much as it bugs me.”
“I mean, I’d walk over hot coals to see you in a tux.” You teased, eyes bright. When he doesn’t shoot back with a response characteristic of his normally playful bravado, some of that brightness leaves your expression. “You know I’m just happy to be with you, right? I’m proud of you.”
Adam hummed in response and squeezed your hand back. “I know.”
You weren’t having his clipped answers. “I don’t care that there are going to be pictures or tons of people watching. You know that shit won’t make me think differently of you.”
He remained quiet after giving you another shrug, still completely scared out of his mind that your words were just that, words. That you’d hit the ground running and never look back as soon as you realized just what supporting him at these things entailed.
The silence lasted for the rest of the elevator ride, through the lobby, and in the limousine and in the little holding room they put you in that is riddled with all of the snacks he would tease you for indulging in had the circumstances been different. He was tense, his muscles tight, tight, tight from his jaw to his calves, knee bouncing and free hand clenching and unclenching right until the moment his name was called. 
The moment wasn’t awful to begin with. It’s mostly pausing and stopping a lot of times for Adam to take pictures while you watch from the sidelines and, every so often, he pulls you in for a few. He doesn’t tell you that, in the moments he doesn’t have his arm around you, that isn’t kissing your cheek chastely and holding your hand, that he feels like he’s drowning. 
It didn’t phase you as you listened to reporters hound him about his female costar and whether or not they were seeing each other. It really didn’t even phase you when one man asked you to “step aside” and referred to you as Adam’s friend, despite his tight grip on your waist and the tender glances his stole every twenty seconds or so. And honestly, you didn’t really care that you might have gotten jostled up a little bit by photographers and other reporters as you stepped aside, more than happy to speed up the process for Adam.
But Adam would not have that, not at all.
“We’re fuckin’ done.” Adam growled, his eyes locking on your face as soon as he noticed you stumble a bit. He left without another word to any of the reporters and looked for his publicist, who was beyond livid at the fact that Adam was blowing off his responsibilities without much of an explanation. Before he went up to him, he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him, not saying another word.
After a hushed but tense back and forth between the two men, the three of you stepped out of the view of the public and quickly found one of the many green rooms for invited guests to cool down and touch up hair and make up before heading into the venue. 
He paced and paced and paced for a long moment, leaving you to sit on the couch and watch with bated breath, praying that his older destructive tendencies didn’t suddenly find their way back to the surface of his psyche. 
After a long while, you finally spoke. “Can you come here?” You whispered, eyes round and, to be frank, a bit desperate. 
Adam came to you without a moment’s hesitation and knelt in front of you, placing his head in your lap and putting your hands in his hair. “Are you going to leave me tonight?” He mumbled into the tulle of your dress.
A soft smile crossed your lips and you shook your head, then moved to cup his cheeks and lift his face up to look at your own. “Now why would I even consider doing that?” You hummed. 
“After that shit show? Any sane person would leave.”
“Whoever said I was sane? Isn’t that why you like me?” 
He chuckled at that and nodded, biting back a comment about how anyone would have to be insane to want to stay with him for as long as you had. “That was just some totally bullshit and you know it, doll.”
You shrugged and shook your head once more. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had my fair share of total bullshit with old haunts showing up on our doorstep, huh?” You made sure to keep your tone teasing, not wanting him to feel as though he needed to shoulder any of the blame for the situation.
Adam laughed again and relaxed visibly for the first time all night. “Do you want to even stay?” He asked, his own voice a bit more reassured. 
“Of course I want to stay, you’re up for an award, dummy.” You giggle, letting your head fall back as he moved up to pepper your exposed neck with kisses and playful bites. “And there’s the after party — I heard there’s going to be some damn good desserts and music.”
He flashed you a smirk when he pulled back and stood, then offered his hand to you. “What is it you always say when I ask to eat out on the way home from shit?” He proposed.
You stood and took his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing before walking toward the door. “What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Adam’s smirk only widened as he held the door open for you and smacked your ass before letting you go. “We have dessert at home.”
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ladyspaceradio · 3 years
Text
Population: Me + You
Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!
Warning: NSFW SMUT
AO3 LINK
                                                 Chapter One
“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember. 
Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.” 
Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy. 
She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-
Not possible. 
“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.
“You would think,” The asari beamed.  “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”
“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”
Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her. 
“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with. 
He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow. 
“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”
The future.
Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there. 
“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.
Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways. 
                                     ----3 weeks earlier-----
The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful  to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar. 
And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.
“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight. 
So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him. 
“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated. 
“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.
“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later. 
A pity considering how handsome he looked in it. 
“Hard.”
She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.
“To believe this war is almost over.” 
Almost
It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again. 
“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins. 
His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”
“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.” 
“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”
She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her. 
Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.  
Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before. 
The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach. 
Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?” He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze. 
Or it was the alcohol. 
“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara. 
At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small. 
“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him. 
She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding. 
“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”
Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered. 
She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang. 
Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett. 
In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’ 
But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her. 
Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.
“No.” 
“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.
“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.
“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar. 
“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.” 
“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.
She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove. 
“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”
They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun. 
“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver. 
Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.
“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged. 
His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”
Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people. 
Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring. 
“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”
“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.
How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them. 
Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.
“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.
He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.
“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”
They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected. 
Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.
“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft  ‘oomf.’
His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach. 
Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”
She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure. 
Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years. 
“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“
Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach. 
She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.
“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.
He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall. 
Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest. 
“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.
“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.
“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip. 
“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”
“Oh god yes!” She mewls  digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her. 
He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears. 
Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist. 
“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials. 
Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there. 
“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away. 
Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps. 
Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first. 
Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him. 
“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside. 
Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin. 
Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin. 
“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth. 
“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?” 
She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”
He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest. 
“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth. 
And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.
Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body. 
“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down. 
“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.” 
“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.
“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass. 
Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs. 
Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”
Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that  as Liam described  it, were ‘whitie tighties.’ 
If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-
These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.
He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval. 
With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants. 
Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her. 
Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own. 
Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed. 
Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound. 
Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip. 
“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip. 
“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.” 
“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver.  Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales. 
Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her. 
“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch. 
There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches. 
“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast. 
He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach. 
“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move. 
“Evfra!”
He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.
A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple. 
Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast. 
He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention. 
“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.
He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.
She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.
“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”
“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke. 
She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.
Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him. 
He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes. 
“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance. 
“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in. 
Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher. 
Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.” 
Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her. 
“Stars.” He rasped  looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs. 
Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid. 
Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder. 
“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist. 
“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. 
“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human. 
Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan. 
Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard. 
Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth. 
“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt. 
“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her. 
How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat. 
She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her. 
Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.
“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped. 
He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.
-----Present-----
She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it. 
How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life? 
She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait. 
Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children. 
Multiple...
She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10  weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo. 
Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression. 
It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement. 
Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.
::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.
“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered. 
“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::
She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off. 
It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like. 
Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips. 
Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door. 
She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.  
“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.
“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other. 
“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something. 
Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.
“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest.  “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch.  “I will let Addison know. Tann out.” 
Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled. 
How did my life become this?
She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way. 
“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.” 
Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.
“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
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"Broken" A Sharky ANGSTY O/S
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So I made a one shot called Baby Shark where Sharky and Rafael get pregnant and after some bumpy conversation, decide to have the baby and she grows up to be a great kid, and you love being a mother.
However, at the time I also had an idea for the OTHER outcome of the pregnancy. But I let it go, and then I got a request from-- someone, I don't know if they want this out in the world-- to write a fic about a miscarriage. So, I figured I'd go with the idea I had already planned out.
AND SO,
I present to you, the alternative outcome of "Baby Shark".
Warning: VERY angsty, dealing with abortions and miscarriages. Also religion, if you're sensitive about that.
Read at your own discretion.
If you would like to read the happy version of this story, it is here.
Tag List
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@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
You stared at the four pregnancy tests on the counter, waiting on the fifth. Plus signs and “Pregnant” words were sitting there, mocking you. You heard your phone alarm go off and picked up the last test.
Positive.
“Dammit!!!” You threw it across the bathroom. This was your worst nightmare. You didn’t want kids right now, you weren’t sure you wanted kids EVER. But you knew Rafael did, he probably wanted them as soon as possible.
“Mi Amor?” Rafael slowly opened the door.
“Raffi!” You spun around angrily. “Don’t you knock?!”
“Well I heard you yell…Oh my god,” Rafael suddenly noticed all the positive tests. “Y/N, are you…are you pregnant?”
“Yeah, well obviously,” You scoffed, gesturing to the many positive tests. You weren’t trying to be mean but he walked in just when you were trying to wrap your mind around this.
“…Why are you angry about this, carino?” He looked at you confused. “You…you do want kids, don’t you?”
“We really should have had this conversation before we got married, god why didn’t we have this conversation…”
“Oh my god,” Rafael stepped back. “You DON’T want kids?”
“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up. “Rafael I had given up on being a wife a long time ago, let alone a mother,”
“I can’t believe this,” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Look I just don’t want to have to make this decision right NOW,” You tried to act softer, lowering your voice. “You know we JUST got married, and we JUST started the practice. I just wanted some time to BREATHE,”
“So…you want to abort it?” Rafael’s voice was soft and sad.
“Christ Almighty Rafael it’s not ‘aborting’ it’s…” You paused, noticing his face was getting more horrified. “What?”
“I thought when you were defending me, your whole ‘cold medical’ argument was a tactic…”
“Yeah well,” You ran your fingers through your hair. “Look, baby,” You took his hand again. “If I…got rid of it,” You saw him flinch. “It would just be taking a pill that rips apart cells and tissue. It doesn’t disintegrate arms or legs, or a tiny beating heart,”
“Yeah I get it, Y/N” He dropped your hands and walked out of the bathroom, you ran after him.
“Rafael, come on!” You chased him through the apartment, grabbing his hand and making him face. “At least hear me out,”
“Why? Why should I? You clearly won’t hear me out! You’ve already made your decision, I bet you weren’t even going to tell me about it,”
“That’s not fair,” You replied, hurt. Of course you would have told him, wouldn’t you?
“And…it’s not just this,” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you don’t want kids right now is one thing, if you don’t want kids EVER, then…” He wiped his eyes. “Then we’re just delaying the inevitable,” He said softly, you could hear the tears in his voice.
“What?” Your heart fell into your stomach. “What are you saying?”
“I want kids, Y/N,” He looked at you very seriously. “I want kids and I’m not going to give up that idea,”
“So, you would just walk away from me for some hypothetical kids you might have some day?” You were getting upset now. How dare he threaten you like that.
“I don’t…” He ran his hands through his hair, tears still falling from his eyes. “I don’t want to,”
“Then DON’T,” You crossed your arms.
“Why should I appease you when you won’t even THINK about it?” He suddenly went from sad to angry, matching your attitude.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t think about it, I said I really don’t want to decide NOW,” You yelled back, as you sat down on the couch. All of this yelling was making you dizzy.
“Then when do you want to decide, Y/N? When-- when our baby actually has fingers, toes? Is that going to change your mind about killing them?”
“Oh my god, you are so--” You stomped out of the bathroom and through your living room.
“Where are you going?” He called after you.
“To prove to you I’m not a heartless bitch!” You yelled back as you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.
=====
You drove to the clinic that Dr. Ramoray worked at, pulling into the parking lot and rushed into the waiting room.
“I need to speak to Dr. Ramoray,“ You informed her.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but we’re old friends,”
“Excuse me?” She looked at you quizzically.
“Can you-- can you just tell him Y/N is here and really needs to talk to him?”
“....Okay…” She looked at you skeptically but stood up and went to find the doctor. After a few minutes Dr. Ramoray walked out and greeted you.
“Hello, Y/N. Nice to see you,” He shook your hand. “Don’t tell me you have another case--”
“No, it’s personal this time doctor,”
“Personal?”
“I...can we…?” You motioned towards the rooms.
“Well...sure, Stella hold my appointments,” He informed his receptionist.
He walked you back and into a patient room. It was lined with charts of the different stages of pregnancy, lists of do’s and don’t during pregnancy, things like that. You took a seat in the regular seats as opposed to the patient stirrups.
“So, how can I help you dear?”
“Well, you know that man I defended?”
“The ADA? Well of course, that’s one day I will never forget,”
“Well he’s my-- husband,” You looked down, hoping that wasn’t a lie.
“I see,” He nodded. “Well, that makes a lot of sense now that I think about it,”
“Right,” You nodded sheepishly. “Well, see we uh-- I got us in a...situation,” You put a hand on your stomach.
“Ah,” He nodded again. “I see,”
“Yeah..”
“And guessing by your argument in court, you’d like to get rid of the...zygote?”
“I don’t know,” You shook your head. “I...I didn’t have the greatest role mode of a mother growing up, and I have no idea how to--” You rubbed your temples. Too much detail.
“Look my husband has the opposite stance on my...views, of a zygote,”
“Well that’s ironic, isn’t it?” He chuckled.
“Yes haha. I just want you--- I just need a picture of this thing to show him it’s just cells, it’s not a--”
“A baby,” he finished for you.
“Right,”
“Well, as you must know due to your research Ms. Y/N, depending on how far along you are it might be impossible to even see the zygote,” He explained.
“Well that’s even better,” You half smiled. “Then it will really prove to him I’m doing nothing wrong-- if I decide to get rid of it,”
“As you wish,” He nodded, gesturing for you to get on the patient table. You laid down on the table and pulled your shirt up, while the doctor got the gooey gel and rubbed it on your stomach. He pulled up a screen that recorded the sonogram, as he ran the scanner over your uterus.
“....Hmm…” He studied the screen intently.
“Hmmm?” You asked. “Hmmm doesn’t sound good,”
“I...well, there seems to be an...issue,”
“Excuse me?” You sat up. “An issue? What kind of issue?”
“Well Ms. Y/N according to this, your uterus is what we would call-- hostile,”
“Hostile?” You half laughed. “Why does that not surprise me…?” You shook your head. Of course you, the cold hearted shark, would have a hostile uterus on top of everything else hostile in your body.
“Yes, see all of this extra tissue? It’s not ideal for a fetus to grow and develop,” He pointed out clouds of white almost filling your uterus. “To be completely honest with you, it’s a miracle you even got pregnant,”
“...Oh Jesus…” You put your hands over your face. “Why...God why…”
“If you decide to terminate this pregnancy, there’s a slim to none chance this will ever happen again,” He continued.
“Great,” You chuckled sarcastically. “So now even NATURE is forcing me to make a choice right now,”
“Well,” He pushed the screen away. “If it helps your decision, there’s an 75% percent chance the baby will even survive full term,”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laughed harder. “So, even if I decide to concede to my husband and go ahead with this, there’s a 25% chance that he’ll get attached to it, and then it will die anyway?!”
“Look Ms. Y/N,” He put a hand on your shoulder. “In my experience, more often than not women with hostile uteruses that do actually get pregnant, end up having perfectly healthy babies. Granted most are preemies, but with today’s technology that’s almost never an issue,”
“...Right,” You shook your head with a dry sarcastic smile, still in disbelief this was all happening.
“And if you don’t mind me saying,” He added. “I really think this is something you should discuss with your husband,”
“I actually really do mind you saying, Doctor,” You said curtly. “I just...I need a minute, can I have a minute?”
“Sure, take a minute. Call him, maybe ask him to come down,”
“...Yeah, right,” You shook your head with a smile as you walked out of the room and down the hall through the waiting room and outside in front of the clinic. You walked over to a small bench off to the side of the walkway into the clinic and sat down, and before you could think your body just erupted in a loud, angry scream.
“....Do you think this is funny, huh?!” You yelled up at the sky. “Is this, what is this, some kind of TEST?” You stood up now as you continued your rant.
“Are you-- are you trying to test how much I love Rafael? Testing just how much I’ve REALLY changed? Or are you just trying to prove to me that I can’t be happy? I can’t have the nice, perfect man, with a perfect family? That I’ll just lose anything good that I touch? You’ve turned my own BODY against me?!” You started to cry in the middle of the grass.
“Why would you do this, huh?” You asked Him. “You know the kind of mother I grew up with, you know I have nothing GOOD to reference on being a mother!” Tears streamed down your cheeks.
“Why would you do this to me? Have I been that shit of a person? Really? I went through...I went through hell and back my entire life, and then I fought like hell for Rafael, for someone who actually loved me, for the very first time in my life! And now-- now you want to take that away from me? Or are you giving me a second chance? TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO!!!!!!!” You screamed, falling to your knees sobbing.
“....Y/N?” A soft voice made you leap to your feet and spin around to see Rafael standing there, his mouth slightly open with a confused look on his face.
“Rafa,” You quickly sucked the rest of your breakdown back into your body, wiping tears away and clearing your throat. “W-What are you doing here?”
“I...I came to support you,” He said softly as he walked closer to you.
“Support me?”
“Well I figured, you came down here to--”
“To what, kill our baby? Without even discussing with you?” You scoffed.
“No!” He cried. “Well, maybe..”
“Right,” You shook your head with a dry laugh.
“But I was going to support you no matter your decision!!” He defended himself.
“Oh well, that’s really big of you Rafael. Coming down here to hold my hand while I abort our child and then breaking up with me as soon as we walked out of here,” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.
“That’s not--” He shook his head. “Look, I think-- I think that what matters right now is your little...soliloquy there,” He gestured towards the bench where you were having your screaming match at God.
“...Right,”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about your mother, carino?”
“Why would I, Rafael?” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “I already inadvertently told you I’d never heard the words ‘I love you’ in my life before you, I thought that was pretty obvious I didn’t have the greatest parents,”
“...Fair,” He closed the gap between you, taking your hands. “I’m sorry, I should have taken that into account when were...talking,”
“Arguing,” You clarified.
“Right,” He nodded sadly. “I just-- I ...I’ve always--”
“Yeah, I get it. You’ve always wanted kids. I should have taken that into account when we even started dating. I should have thought this could happen. I’m usually so level headed and ten steps ahead of things, but with you--”
“It’s different,” He finished for you with a sad smile.
“Yeah,” You nodded softly, looking at the ground.
“Well,” He tilted your chin up. “I don’t--I don’t want to impose anything on you, but--”
“But…”
“But...you did just ask the big guy what to do, and I was here,”
“...So you’re saying, God is telling me to go through with this?”
“All I’m stating is facts, Sharky,” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not telling you to do anything, I’m really not. I swear,”
“....Well, you should know all the facts then,” You sighed, leading him back to the bench where you both sat.
“All the facts?” He asked you curiously.
“...Dr. Ramoray says that I have a…’hostile uterus’,” You shook your head with a laugh, just saying it sounded absurd.
“A hostile uterus? You? I’m shocked,” He joked, trying to ease the tension.
“I know right?” You chuckled. “Anyway um-- he said, that it was a miracle I even got pregnant,” You said softly while you played with his hand in yours.
“...A miracle?”” Rafael’s voice perked up a little. Did that mean you were considering it? Surely you wouldn’t have told him that if you were going to get rid of it.
“Yeah,” You nodded. “And um-- he said, he said if I terminated this pregnancy, there was a slim to none chance that I’d ever get pregnant again,” You looked at the ground.
“I see,” He squeezed your hand softly. “So...basically, even mother nature is forcing you to make a life decision right now,”
“That’s what I said!” You looked up into his eyes; you really were so in sync.
“...Which is why you were yelling at God,”
“...Right,” You looked up at the sky. “But there’s another thing,”
“Oh?”
“The doctor said that even if I decide to go ahead with the pregnancy, there’s a 25% chance that it will die anyway,” You looked into his eyes sadly. “Because of course, my body would be just like my mother, rejecting it,” You looked away from him with another sarcastic laugh, thinking of the irony of your situation.
“Hey,” He put a hand on your face, making you look at him. “You are NOT your mother,”
“You didn’t even know her,”
“I know she wouldn’t be wrestling with this decision, would she?”
“No,” You shook your head. “She definitely would not. She made it very clear that my father MADE her have me, because he didn’t believe in abortion,”
“....Like I was trying to do,” He said sadly.
“No baby,” You took his hands. “I know you weren’t trying to force me to do anything,”
“....But I kind of was, when I threatened to leave you,” He looked down in shame.
“No, uh uh,” Now it was your turn to pull his chin upwards. “It’s not the same. Not even close,”
“....So,” He took a deep breath. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“....Well,” You gave him a small smile. “I can’t exactly argue with God for giving me what I asked for, right?”
“Wha--you mean me?”
“I asked him what to do, and here you are,” You pressed your forehead against his. “I’d say that’s a pretty big red flag of an answer,”
“Carino,” His lips curled into a huge smile before they were on yours.
-----------------
----Six Months Later----
You were in your last trimester, and were finally starting to breathe about your impending labor. Every month, every doctor’s appointment, you’d walk into the office with the worst expectations, and every time you were proven wrong. In that time, you had grown attached to your little girl, who you decided to name Isabella. Izzie, for short.
Rafael would talk to Izzie as much as he talked to you, always speaking in Spanish thinking she’d pick it up in the womb. You’d just shake your head with a smile, it was adorable the way he was so excited. It made you even more excited, just seeing him so happy. You had never been so invested in someone else’s emotions other than your own, especially not someone who hadn’t even been born yet. But you loved Izzie already, you would smile to yourself when you’d feel her moving around inside you. It was like she was snuggling you in her own little cocoon inside you.
However, on the day of your baby shower, all of your new hopes and dreams came crashing down. You were doing your makeup, humming and bouncing along with the Spotify playlist you had playing-- when you felt it. A sharp, overwhelming pain struck your abdomen, causing you to hunch over, falling to your knees.
“RAFAEL!!!!!” You screamed as your insides felt like they were being stabbed everywhere. Everything you had feared was coming true.
Rafael sprinted into your bathroom half dressed and instantly was down next to you.
“Y/N, baby what’s wrong?” He asked frantically, checking your body everywhere as you writhed in pain and began to cry.
“It’s...Izzie,” You sobbed, knowing what was happening. “I’m losing her,”
“Oh God,” Rafael dialed 911 while he tried to help you stand. When he saw your pelvis however, he stopped moving you.
“What?” You asked in a panicked tone. “What is it?”
“You’re...You’re bleeding, Y/N,” His eyes began to fill with tears as he watched you quickly begin to bleed out in front of him.
“What?” You tried desperately to look down at yourself, all you saw was a pool of blood running down the floor to your feet. Everything started to go fuzzy, you could barely hear Rafael screaming on the phone for someone to hurry up and come to your rescue. Pretty soon, you blacked out completely.
----------------------
The next thing you knew you were waking up in a hospital bed with a nurse taking your vitals.
“Welcome back, Ms. Y/N,” She smiled sweetly. “We almost lost you there,”
“...Lost me?” You looked at her in confusion before looking down at your stomach. A huge bandage was wrapped around your torso, covering several stitches and tubes coming out of your pelvis.
“Oh my god,” You whispered, beginning to panic again. “Oh my god, oh my god--”
“Whoa whoa calm down sweetie,” The nurse tried to keep you from squirming around. “You’ll pop your stitches,”
“Where’s Izzie? Where’s Rafael?” You asked her as you started to hyperventilate.
“Your husband ran to get a coffee” She assured you. “And um, your-- your baby is…”
“She’s dead, isn't she?” You began to sob. “I killed her,”
“No! No ma’am,” She shook her head. “Well, I mean she-- she is-- gone,” She said sadly. “But you did NOT kill her,”
“No, just my hostile body,” You continued to sob.
“Look I’m-- I’ll be right back,” She rushed out of the room, leaving you crying and screaming in horror and guilt.
After a few minutes, Rafael was bursting into the room, instantly at your side and taking your shaking body in his arms. He was still covered in your blood, he hadn’t dared to leave your side since they had gotten you there.
“I killed her, Rafa,” You sobbed into his chest. “I knew it, I knew this would happen. I’m broken inside, I told you I was broken,”
“Shhh, no no no mi amor,” He whispered as he tried to not start crying himself. “Shhhh, you’re-- you’re not broken,”
“I am!!!” You sobbed harder. “I killed our baby, just like I knew I would. It’s the one thing I was supposed to give you,”
“...Shh, baby I know. It’s okay, it’s alright--” He looked up at the sky as he began to cry himself.
“No it’s not, it’s not okay!!” Your sobs became heavier, you could barely breathe. All of your fears were coming true, you were being punished. You lost your child and now you were going to lose the love of your life. “Please don’t leave me, Please please please,”
“What?” He suddenly looked back down at you, pulling you from his chest. “Why would I--”
“I KILLED OUR BABY!!!!!!!!” You screamed. “That’s the ONE thing you asked me not to do!! The one thing! And I did it anyway!!!”
“NO, you did NOT,” He took both of your shoulders. “You did not kill our baby, do you hear me? You tried so hard, you took such good care of Izzie, carino--” He started to cry again as he said her name.
“She’s dead, Rafael,” You had just started to get your sobs under control until you saw him cry. You hated seeing him cry. You hated being the reason he was crying. “She’s dead!”
“And so were you!” He said through his tears. “You died on that table, they told me. But you came back to me,”
“....What?” Now you started to control your crying in shock from this new information.
“We may have lost Izzie, but I almost lost both of you. And I-- I don’t think I would have survived that,” He was still crying. “I...I’m devastated about Izzie, but I’m grateful you’re alive,”
“....Even though I’m broken?” You sniffled.
“You are not broken, mi amor,” He shook his head as he kissed your forehead, getting his own emotions to calm down. “...And if you still don’t believe me, then I promise you, I will spend the rest of our lives putting you back together,”
“....Okay,” You whispered, finally relaxing into his arms as he laid back against the wall.
“I love you, Y/N,” He whispered as he stroked your hair. “I will always love you, no matter what,”
“I love you too,” You sniffled as you started to fall asleep against his chest.
You wanted to believe him, but you knew deep down inside: You’d always be broken.
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jordanstrophe · 3 years
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Going Once, Going Twice, part 10
Prison party, part 2/?
Masterlist
CW: Pet whumpees, whump party, abuse, collars, restraints, manhandling, shock collar, public torture, panic attack, anxiety, creepy whumpers, 
Robert held Peter close in his arms, not daring letting him an inch apart in fear someone would just rip him from his arms. This was a bad idea... This was a terrible stupid bad idea, his gut feeling was going haywire, but they were there now. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible. 
There were people all standing around, the room filled with chattering and laughing, drowning the sobbing coming from some of the Pets that were either standing by their owners cowering, or quietly kneeling at their feet. You could tell a lot about that person based on how they were treating their Pets and how they were behaving, limping, black eyes or tight collars. 
Robert scanned the crowd trying to find Nina, before walking to the main room. It was a dining room, a long massive table in the center, slowly being filled with expensive exotic foods for dinner. Some people were already claiming their seat early, as close to the ends as possible hoping to be seated by someone important. 
“My my, what a sweet thing you have there.” A deep charming voice said from behind. Peter went stiff, as Robert glanced behind him. There was the Barron, standing well dressed in a suit and bow tie, a Pet kneeling at his feet with a chain attracted to his bound wrists, like a leash. 
“He’s... Clean.” The man tilted his head to get a better look at Peter’s face, noting the lack of damage. He had plenty of scars, sure, but you would have to really look to find them. “Can I help you?” Robert muttered. The man let out a loud jolly laugh, throwing his head back. The battered bruised Pet at his feet cringed fearfully. 
Peter’s heart pounded in his chest, both from fear and guilt. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the broken Pet at his feet, cowering, terrified.
That was supposed to be him... Wasn’t it.
“This must be your first time here, call me Nicholas Grimm. You must be Robert McAllen, right? I don’t recognize you entirely, it was pretty dark at the auction. But I do recognize him.” They pointed. Peter flinched when he moved his arm, as if he had been shot. “I sincerely apologize, but I’m looking for someone, if you don’t mind.” Robert tried to keep his voice as polite as he could, backing away. “Come now! I’m an important man, sit with me at dinner, there’s something I must discuss with you.” He smiled, extending his hand to the dinner table. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on staying for dinner, I’m really in a hurry.” He muttered, trying to make it clear he was walking off. 
“You’re.. Not staying for dinner?” He was clearly trying not to break down laughing again, biting on his lower lip. “No sir!” He called, hoping he was inched far away enough it was appropriate to walk away. 
The Barron shook his head with a large satisfied smile. “What an absolute fool... He has no idea.” He giggled to himself. He glanced down at the Pet at his feet, giving him a swift hard kick against his leg. ‘’Isn’t that right?” He hissed harshly down at the boy. “Yes sir!” He immediately shouted in response. “No stutter... Good job. That’s one less punishment for tonight. Keep it up.” He growled.
“Are you okay?” Robert whispered down as Peter. “I’m fine...” He muttered with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry... I didn’t know he would be here.” He admitted with guilt. He felt a weight being torn from his arm, as he gasped and whirled around. A tall woman had a grasp on Peter’s arm, wrenching it up as she pulled him close. Peter let out a cry as her long sharp nails dug into his arm. “Oh how adorable! I’ve never seen such a clean empty canvas before.” She smiled wildly, grabbing his chin and tilting it to the side. “Hey! Get yours hands off!” Robert yelled, grabbing Peter in one hand, shoving her hand off with the other. “You dare?... You don’t have to be so rude about it! I was just looking!” The woman snapped, crossing her arms. She wore a hat with long white feathers flowing from it. “Then look with your eyes...” Robert cursed under his breath. She raised an eyebrow. “I want to borrow him. How much?” She asked. “He’s not up for grabs, please don’t touch him.” Robert snapped. Peter immediately latched onto his shirt trying to hide himself underneath his coat. 
Robert shook his head in disgust at the woman as he slid through the crowd as for away from the women as he could. He found somewhat of a clear corner as he sat down on a couch and setting Peter next to him. “Are you okay? Let me see your wrist...” He muttered, gently taking his arm and pulling his sleeve up. “I’m okay.” He muttered, his voice was obviously shaking as he trembled. “Honey...” Robert sighed. “That’s it... We’re going home, I can’t believe I actually brought you here. I never imagined it was like this.” He muttered. “But, you didn’t get what you came for!” He tried to argue back. “It doesn’t matter! You’re not safe here. I don’t even see Nina. It was just a stupid letter, you’re more important then that.” He said.
Peter let off a small sad smile. “I’m sorry, I should never have made such a scene... Urrg.. I’m so stupid!” He cried out, digging his nails in his hair. Robert immediately snatched his hands up in his. “Young man, none of that. We’ll talk in the car.” He said, standing him up and walking straight for the door. He kept his head down as he pushed his way through the crowd, but when he reached for the handle, the door didn’t budge. “What the....” He muttered, jostling the door back and forth. 
“Well well... Would you look at that. Speak of the devil.” A creeping voice sang. Robert shut his eyes in disturbance, slowly turning around to face Nina. “Hey cousin...” He muttered, nodding in acknowledgme- “DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!” She hissed with a shrieking voice. The room quickly went into deathly silence, as she chuckled, cleaning her throat. “Ehem... Excuse me. I never dreamed in a thousand years that I would see you, here of all places. And what’s this you have here?” She smirked, bending down with her hands resting on her knees. “You, Rob, have a Pet. My Robert McAllen, has a Pet.” She laughed. “Honestly, I wanted to put you on a ban list of every occasion I threw, but I didn’t bother with this one because, well, I figured you were too much of a poster boy to get one. Where'd you get him at, second hand thrift store for five dollars? Hah!” She laughed at her own joke.
“Five million at an auction.” He gave a sweet yet smug smile.
“F-f-f-five... Million.” She muttered, eyes going wide, almost dropping the glass she held in her hand that went slack. “You paid five m-million, of MY money, on a little Pet?!” She hollered. She tried to get a good look at Peter’s face, who was pressing his body against Robert’s back. 
“Awww... He’s is pretty cute.” She cooed, her mood instantly shifting as she gave him a small smile and wave. He only had one eye poking out from behind him, wide and fearful. 
“I was here for you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about a letter that was left for me. A letter from my mother.” He explained. 
“A letter, hmm? Not familiar with it.” She shrugged. “I think you are, and I’m willing to pay for it.” He said. She gave him a curious look, before a smirk spread across her face. Sit next to me at dinner, at my left hand.” She smiled, turning to walk away. “Wait! I need to take him home. Can you unlock the door?” He called. 
She broke down laughing, she laughed and laughed as it echoed throughout the walls. “Oh darling!” She laughed. “You really didn’t do your research. At five the doors close and lock, no one in, no one out until midnight. That’s the rules.” She shrugged. ‘'What? What kind of a rule is that? Just let us out!” He hollered. “It’s our only rule, you should have checked, it was on the front page where the party was advertised. Chill out now, have a drink, join us for dinner, show off your preciouses boy you got there. You’re here now, might as well enjoy it.” She waved, slithering off into the crowd.
Robert sighed, trying the door one last time as if it might magically become unlocked. “M-master...” Peter muttered, tugging his coat. “I’ll be okay, I can do this, I have you.” He gave him a nervous smile. Robert placed a hand on his head. “I’m so sorry hon... I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He muttered back. 
He joined the dinner table, Nina sat at the head, of course, with the spot she promised left open for him. She was happily chatting away as a guest standing next to her, her eyes immediately caught his, as she waved him over. 
Robert glanced at the single chair, then back at her. “Just put him on the floor, you can feed him scraps if that’s what you choose.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’d rather just hold him.” He glared. “Hold him-? Whatever.” She waved her hand, annoyed. 
Robert Pulled Peter onto his lap who immediately latched onto his shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Nina waved the man away who was trying to talk to her, as she stared at Peter intensely. 
“My eyes are up here.” Robert grumbled. She spat out a laugh, before turning attention to the person who just sat at her right hand. “There’s the man of the hour.” She smiled. “Hello my dear.” The Barron smiled gleefully, shoving his Pet to the floor at his feet. Robert knew at that moment something was going on. He wasn’t sure what, but she was up to something. 
‘’Nina, the letter...” Robert tried. Before he could get anymore out, the lights began to dim. “Sssh! We’ll talk after the show. Barron wants to talk to you too.” She smiled before turning her attention to a stage, as red curtains that took up the entire wall slowly lifted.
A man in a top hat was standing over another who was heavily restrained, with his head down silently.
“Good day to the ladies and gentlemen. I hope each and everyone enjoys tonight's show! This here is Eden, he’s going to be demonstrating his marvelous obedience and respect.” The man smiled. “But if he doesn’t perform flawlessly, he gets a slight punishment...” The man winked, holding up a trigger, mercilessly hitting the button. The man let out a holler, chest slamming onto the floor, as a buzzing sound could be heard. The man let go of the button, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up to show off the shock collar around his neck, the crowd laughing and cheering.
“Master!” Peter whispered as loudly as he dared. “I can’t see this! Please don’t let me watch this, I’m begging you!” He panicked, clutching onto his coat desperately. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, as Robert let him off his lap. “Go in the front room sweetie, I’ll come get you in a minute.” He whispered. “Thank you!” He cried, bolting off while covering his ears. 
Robert knew Peter had some built up trauma, he couldn’t quite watch this either, but he couldn’t do all of this only to miss his one window with Nina. 
The Barron shot a glance back, noticing Peter slipping off into the other room. He smirked, before turning his attention back to the stage with a wide evil grin.
Nina McAllen
Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus @unicornscotty @whumpzone  @penny-for-your-whump @girlwithnoballons242 @whumpingredroses  @rippedjeansandfadeddreams  @cupcakes-and-pain @thinkingofausername
(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ Thank you for reading!
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Text
Music Worth Making Part 1: Bright Forever
Requested: nope!
Warnings: abuse, child neglect, shitty parents, death, food, terrible writing
Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all. 
Chapter Summery: The band Sunset Curve was about to have a life-changing concert when they ate some bad hotdogs and died. 25 years later, you’re best friends with the girl who discovers them. 
Words: 3,026 
A/N: This is pretty much just introducing the characters and their relationships to one another. Things will get more interesting in the next few chapters.Also, the reader is non-binary! <3 lyrics are italicized Part 2 ______________________________________________________
Hollywood 1995
“Don’t look down, ‘cause we’re still rising up right now, and even if we hit the ground we’ll still fly, keep dreaming like we’ll live forever, but live it like it’s now or never.”
The teenaged boys finished their soundcheck, earning scattered applause and even a “whoo!” from the employees working at The Orpheum that night. The band didn’t try to hide their smiles as they took a bow. 
“Thank you, we’re Sunset Curve!” one called out.
“Tell your friends!” another added. 
“Too bad we wasted the tightest we’ve ever played on a soundcheck,” one said as they set down their instruments. 
“Wait until tonight man, when this place gets packed with record execs.”
The boys all nodded, thinking of all the chances of fame they would have after that night.
“Okay, well, I’m thinking we fuel up before the show. I’m thinking street dogs?”
Two of the other boys liked that idea, but the other one had other plans.
Jumping off the stage, he started to make his way over to a young woman who was wiping down tables.
“Hey Bobby, where you going?” the one who had suggested they go get street dogs called out.
“I’m good!” he called out to his bandmates, then said to the girl: “Vegetarian. I could never hurt an animal.” 
“You guys are really good,” she said with a smile as the other three guys joined their band member at her table. “I see a lot of bands. Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”
The guys all smiled. 
“That’s what we do this for,” one of them said. The tips of his chestnut colored hair almost reached the top of his shirt with cut off sleeves. “I’m Luke, by the way.”
“Hi, I’m Reggie.” Reggie had black hair and was wearing a leather jacket with a red flannel tied around his waist. An interesting combination, but somehow the outfit worked. 
“Alex.” A boy with blond hair spoke up from where he was hovering just to the side of the group, wearing a pale pink t-shirt.
“Bobby.” The boy who had first walked over to the girl had brown hair and a sleeveless jacket over a t-shirt. 
“Nice meeting you guys. I’m Rose.” The girl smiled at all of them again as Luke licked his finger and stuck it in Bobby’s ear. 
“Oh uh, here’s our demo, and a t-shirt, size beautiful.” Reggie handed Rose a CD and a t-shirt, earning a small groan from Alex. 
“Thanks. I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” 
“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands,” Alex informed her.
“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby asked, clearly wanting to talk to Rose without the other three around. 
“Yeah.” Luke leaned closer to Rose, as if to tell her a secret. “He had a hamburger for lunch.”
-----
“Man, I can’t wait until we eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile,” Alex grumbled as he put a pickle on his hot dog. “Hey, sorry, I got some pickle juice on your battery cables.”
“No problem. It’ll help with the rust,” the man cooking hot dogs said with a slight chuckle.
“That can’t….okay.”
The three made their way over to a couch to eat. Before they could dig in, however, Luke started speaking. 
“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing The Orpheum! I can’t even count how many bands have played here and then ended up being huge,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Eat up, boys. ‘Cause after tonight, everything changes.”
They all bit down hungerly into their street dogs.
Alex was the first to notice that something was off. “That’s a new flavor,” he said, a small amount of worry creeping into his tone.
“Chill man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie tried to calm down his friend.
Luke hesitated for a moment, then took another huge bite.
-----
Los Angeles 2020
You made your way through the hallway, walking fast, faces pass, weaving around people as you tried to reach your locker. You smiled as you saw your two best friends waiting for you.
“Hey, underacheiver,” Flynn said in greeting.
“Hey, disappointments,” you joked back to them. “Okay, Julie, I know you don’t want me to ask, but have you figured out what you’re gonna do today?”
“I’ll know in the moment.” The frizzy-haired girl fiddled with her bracelets as she spoke, the only clue that she was nervous for her proformance later.
“Really, Jules? That’s all your giving us? Mrs. Harrison said-” Flynn was cut off from scolding one of her best friends.
“This is my last chance, I know, I was there,” Julie finished. Flynn smiled softly for a moment, but it turned to a grimace of disgust as she noticed a girl handing out flyers. 
“Ugh, what is she handing out?” she questioned.
“Desperation?” you said, only half joking. Julie and Flynn snickered. 
However, you put on a smile as the girl walked up to the three of you. 
“Here you go. My group’s performing at the spirit rally tomorrow. I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” she said, her eyes sweeping over you critically as she handed the flyer to Flynn. 
Flynn put on a bright, sarcastic smile. “Oh my gosh, Carrie, thanks!”
“Oh my gosh, Flynn, don’t bother coming!”
The three of you rolled your eyes at Carries retreating back. However, someone else caught Julie’s eye. 
“Nick?” you asked, looking between Julie and the blond-haired boy she was staring at.
“Still?” Flynn asked. “You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”
“Nick’s a sweetheart.”
“Yeah, you’d actually have to talk to him to know that,” Flynn said with a small smile. “And only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby.” 
You nodded your approval of this statement as Flynn called out “Demon!” in Carrie’s direction.
The three of you turned towards the lockers and laughed quietly. 
“There’s that smile,” Flynn said, lightly poking both you and Julie’s face. “Now come on, let’s go prove everybody wrong.”
You flinched slightly as she put her arm around you, but tried not to show it.
-----
“Okay, we have one last proformance,” Mrs. Harrison called out. “Julie.”
You squeezed her hand slightly as she stood up and walked over to the piano. 
She sat in silence for a moment, before saying “I’m sorry,” and running out of the room, with you and Flynn not far behind. 
-----
“I’ll be back to pick you up at 5:30. Have fun at practice, Danny!” you called out after your little brother as he ran to join the baseball team. This was a daily routine for you; drop Danny off at practice, go to Julie’s to study and eat, pick up Danny, go home and endure torture. 
You let your mind wander as you walked to Julie’s house, which luckily wasn’t very far from the sports fields. Walking through the front door, you let your bag fall to the ground as you went to go get something to eat. 
-----
A few hours later, you were walking back to the sports fields. 
“Hey, Danny,” you said once you saw him, ruffling the boy’s hair. “How was practice?”
You paid attention as best you could as he rambled on about what had happened that day, but if you were honest, you didn’t understand a thing about sports. You were just glad your brother had found something that made him happy.
You closed the front door as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake your father. You tip-toed into the kitchen to start making dinner, as you did every night.
“Olivia, is that you?” you mother asked. You winced. 
“Yes, mother,” you sighed slightly, afraid to tell her that you had changed your name to Y/N.
“Hurry up and get dinner started. My feet are tired from cleaning all day.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at the excuse that was very obviously a lie, your house was a mess and you knew you would be expected to clean it later, but you didn’t want to get in trouble. So you fell into a robotic sort-of motion that you had developed as a way of hiding your emotions and thoughts from your parents. 
Thirty minutes and one burnt fingertip later, dinner was ready and waiting on the table. 
“Wake up, Harold, dinner is ready.” Your mother shook your father awake. You knew if you tried that, you would be slapped across the face. By both of them. 
However, your father just sat up sleepily and lumbered over to the table. You stood over to the side as your family ate, not being allowed to join them. 
“Goddamned roast beef is overcooked again,” he grumbled. You blinked back tears. Such a small thing shouldn’t upset you, you knew, but it did. 
You endured the criticism on the meal you had worked hard to make from your mother and father for the next half-hour. Your father declared himself full and snapped his fingers at you. You whisked his plate away before taking your mother’s, too. She never ate after he finished. You took Danny’s too, but only because you knew that your parents disapproved of him still eating. 
“Hey,” your father said, his voice already low and dangerous. “Give your brother back his plate. He wasn’t finished yet.”
You set the plate back down, nodding and shaking slightly. “My apologies, father.”
“Don’t appologize to your father, appologize to your brother!” your mother exclaimed, grabbing Danny’s hand from across the table and giving it a squeeze. 
“It’s okay, really, I was done,” he hurried to say.
Your mother frowned at him. “Are you sure, darling?”
He nodded. 
“Well, okay then…” she said, still frowning slightly. “You may be excused.” 
He ran off to his room. You took his plate. 
Heading back to the kitchen with a small sigh, you started making a meal for yourself out of what was left, leaving enough so that your family would have leftovers. 
You ate silently, thinking about how nice it would be to have a caring family. Of course, Danny cared, but he was too young to stand up to your parents, and you never wanted him to have to. You would protect that boy at all costs.
Holding in a sigh, you cleaned up from dinner, and then pulled out the duster to start to clean the house. You were stopped, however, by your mother. 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I- I’m cleaning the house…”
“Didn’t you hear me say earlier that I cleaned it? Are you insulting my cleaning job?”
“N-no, I-”
“You what?” Without waiting for an answer, she slapped you across the face. You struggled to remain emotionless; your face stung. 
You thought it was over, but then your father joined in.
“What’s this Jennifer? Is Olivia insulting your hard work?”
“It’s Y/N…” you muttered quietly. Your father overheard and put his face uncomfortably close to yours.
“As long as you’re living under my roof it will always be Olivia. And even if you could change your name, that doesn’t change your gender, freak,” he spat. 
“I know,” you whispered. 
He slapped you.
“Don’t talk back to me.”
Blinking back tears, you stood still as they walked away. Eventually, you remembered the duster in your hand. Placing it back on the shelf, you walked back up to your room, hoping you would be able to escape them for the rest of the night.
-----
The next morning as you and Danny were walking to Julie’s house to go to school, you heard something you hadn’t heard in a long time: music. Julie was singing. 
“Wake up, wake up, if it’s all you do, look out, look inside of you, it’s not what you lost, it’s what you’ll gain raising your voice to the rain.” You smiled. It had been so long since you last heard her voice, and her music was a gift to the world. 
You walked into the studio alone, Danny having gone to talk to Carlos. Julie looked up with small tears in her eyes, seeing you standing there, smiling. She smiled back. 
“It’s so nice to hear you play again.”
Julie smiled wider. “Thanks.”
Just then, Flynn burst in. 
“Carlos told me you’d be out here. We need to talk.” She crossed the room to where the two of you stood by the piano. 
“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing the tears running down her face. 
“No, I’m not okay! One of my best friends just got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say. Might’ve drank seven sodas, but I need to get this out.”
“Wait, I have something to tell you-”
“No. It’s my turn to talk.” Flynn took a deep breath. “You can’t give up music. You’re music’s like a gift, that would be a tragedy. So you’re basically, like, cancelling Christmas, and I love Christmas!”
“Flynn-” you started to say, but she cut you off. 
“Uh-uh! I don’t know why you’re siding with her, Y/N. I know you like hearing her play.”
You knew Flynn didn’t mean to hurt you, but her words stung a little. You nodded once and retreated back into yourself slightly. Flynn was too emotional (and sleep deprived) to notice. 
“When we were six, we promised to be in a band together. Double Trouble!”
“I never agreed to that name,” Julie said, laughing slightly.
“That’s not the point. Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. That’s just what happens. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hall sometimes, but we’ll have different lives, make new friends…” Flynn said the last part quieter. You could tell she hated the thought of losing one of her best friends.
“That’s not true,” Julie reassured her, but Flynn wasn’t finished.
“You’re right. I won’t be making any new friends. I’ll only have Y/N, and they’re amazing but I’d miss you Jules! And the only time we’ll contact each other is when we’re liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I’ll be hitting that little heart, my heart will be breaking because one of my best friend’s left me, and… do you have any soda? My head hurts.” 
“Can I talk now?” Julie asked tentatively. 
“Fine.”
“I just played the piano and sang again. Y/N can confirm it.” You nodded when Flynn looked at you excitedly. 
“What? Why didn’t you just say so?” She asked, practically bouncing with joy. 
“She was trying to, but then your seven soda’s kicked in,” you answered with a small laugh. 
Flynn was grinning from ear to ear now. “I’m so happy for you! And me! And Y/N!”
You all hugged, but Flynn pulled away quickly, gasping. “We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in school and my life won’t be that sad picture I just painted for you!”
You giggled as Flynn put her arms around both of you. “Y/N, our girl’s back. Double Trouble lives again!”
“Still not our band name,” giggled Julie. 
-----
“Did you end up getting back into the music program?” you asked Julie at the end of your study session for the day. She looked down at her shoes, and you knew what the answer would be before she said it:
“No. No I didn’t.”
You tried not to look too disappointed for her sake. “Oh. I’m really sorry, Jules.”
“It’s…” she sighed. “It’s okay. I can reapply next semester.”
You hugged her. 
“Oh hey, I almost forgot to tell you,” she said right as you were about to walk out of the door. “We decided not to move.”
Despite the news that one of your best friends was no longer in the music program, a smile lit up your face. “That’s great!” you said, pulling her in for another quick hug. Then you walked out the door, not wanting to be late to pick up Danny. 
-----
“Check it out, yeah we make ‘em say Wow!” Carrie bowed as her band, Dirty Candi, finished their dance number. You were at the spirit rally, saving a seat for Julie and Flynn, who were nowhere to be found. 
Suddenly Flynn plopped down beside you. 
“Oh hey, where were you?” you asked the girl.
She tried to blow a piece of hair out of her face, frowning slightly when it wouldn’t move. “I was in the band room. I wasn’t feeling very… spirt-y.” You both chuckled slightly. 
“Where’s Jules?” You looked around for the other girl, but couldn’t see her. 
As if in response to your question, music filled the gym as someone started to play the piano on the stage. You looked up to see Julie, alone on stage, with a spotlight on her. 
“Sometime’s I think I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out, for one more try, to feel alive,” she sang, her voice echoing slightly as it filled the room. You smiled, happy she was singing again. 
Then suddenly, there were three boys on stage with her. 
“Whoa!” Flynn exclaimed.
“Where did those boys come from?” you asked in amazement. Julie seemed a little shocked that they were there too. One of them, the lead guitarist you guessed, started singing the second verse. 
“In times that I doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help,” he sang. 
“Whoa, he has a really good voice,” you said, your mouth hanging open slightly. 
You found yourself staring at him as the song went on. You could tell that he really enjoyed playing, and found yourself getting caught up in the music. 
“And rise, through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever!” Julie harmonized with the boys, finishing the song. You started clapping with the rest of the crowd that had gathered to watch, proud of your friend.
Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the boys were gone.  
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The Phantom of the Opera❣︎ A/n: I just needed an excuse to make this picture- Bro I love The Phantom of the Opera so much it was so good my gosh! This is a Phantom Hanako x reader btw Anyways, have a good day/night!
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Cold air hit my neck as I shivered due to its sudden contact. I carefully place the needle through the edge of my skirt, trying not to prick my finger as I did so. It was currently midnight and I was sitting in the Opera house. During practice I ripped my skirt and I had to repair it. The assistant manager, Akane, told me to stay behind till the skirt was repaired. He was always quite cold to the ballerinas, all the ballerinas except Aoi. Akane and Aoi grew up together and no matter how many times Akane spoils her she always just brushes him off. The manager, Teru, said that I shouldn’t stay up too late but Teru is used to me staying in the opera house. 
I always thought it was nice in the opera house at night… The way the moonlight hit the floors from the windows, the wind rustling the trees outside having them calmly sway outside, and the way the floors creak when I walked telling me that I was alone in this building. Although being alone wasn’t the best it was a good way to destress from the long day. The ballerinas didn’t get as much credit as the main performers did. I often hung around late, practicing the little lines you had or humming to yourself, but I never stayed around this time. Even the janitor left.
“Ow..!” I slightly flinched when the needle poked my index finger. I sighed as I placed the skirt down and put another bandage on my hand. I grumbled as I picked up my finished skirt.
“Well it's better than a noticeable rip…”  I put my skirt in my big bag. I walked out of the room and looked at the big clock in the center of the opera.
“It's 12:09?!?! I’ve been here too long...” I yelled, grabbing the spare keys that Teru left me and walked off the stage. 
“Y/n…” A whisper entered my ear causing me to turn out of instinct. I turned to see no one.
“I must be hearing things…” I said to myself.
“Y/n...~” I heard the ghostly whisper that caused shivers to go down your spine. I looked around hoping it was Teru coming to check up on me. 
I quickly walked to the door wanting to leave as fast as I could. When I approached the door I saw a letter that had my name on it. It had a red, wax seal with a skull closing it.
“What…” I grabbed the letter and opened it.
‘Dear Y/n,
I am writing to tell you that I have taken a liking to you and your voice. I would like you to be the lead singer for the next performance. I hope to see you soon. 
- The Phantom of The Opera’
‘The what…’ I looked at the paper dumbfounded. A chill went up my spine and I pushed the opera doors open. I started to walk to your apartment reading the letter.
‘A Phantom… I remember people talking about a Phantom before… It's probably a prank from Akane or Teru… I’m not going to think too much of this.’ I thought while examining the paper.
Next day~
“You seriously haven’t heard about the Phantom of the Opera?” Aoi asked as she put on her ballerina outfit.
“No I haven’t…” I nervously smiled.
“Really? That's why we keep box seat 7 open. It's the Phantom's favorite seat!” She put her hand on her cheek.
‘He seriously has a favorite seat…’ I thought to myself.
“He even writes letters to the manager when he doesn't like the show!” Aoi fluffed her skirt “But it is just a rumor… but who knows, it could be real! Why do you ask y/n?”
My face flushed “No reason!” I put the letter in my pocket so she couldn't see.
“Are you sure-” She started but was interrupted by Akane bursting into the room.
“AOI MY SWEETHEART!!” Stars filled his eyes.
“AKANE?!” I yelled at him “GET OUT WHAT IF WE WERE STILL CHANGING?!?!”
Of course he ignored me and went to Aoi.
“How is my beautiful star doing?” He held her hand.
“Akane, I’m not the star of the show, Mitsuba is.” She lightly laughed. 
“You are my star Aoi!” Akane kneeled down and you rolled your eyes.
“2 points!” Aoi said and he cried.
“Akane, what are you doing in the girls changing room?” A smooth voice asked. Teru placed his arm on Akanes shoulder and he froze up.
“Let's go Akane…” Teru smiled and he sighed in defeat. 
As they both were leaving, Teru looked at my pocket. I noticed his eyes widened slightly.
“We will see you two ballerinas on stage!” Teru closed the door leaving you and Aoi. She looked at the wall clock and gasped. 
“Oh my! We should get going now!” She grabbed my hand and we ran out the door. 
We met up backstage with our other good friend Yashiro. Yashiro was a learning singer and often had side roles. 
“Hey you two!” She smiled at us.
“Hey there Nene, you practice your lines?” Aoi asked the cream haired girl.
“I memorized most of them… but if I mess up everyone will be looking at Mitsuba anyways…” She laughed a bit. She always wanted to be a big star so the boys would love her, she would often fantasize about being with the manager…
“Well you will do great Nene!” I smiled at her.
“Yeah- oh it's my scene! See you two after!” She waved at us and went onto stage. I felt someone tap my shoulder and turned around to see Mitsuba.
“You are in the way idiot…” He told me coldly. I moved aside for Mitsuba to get passes and a cocky grin appeared on his face.
“That's right! Move for the one and only Souske Mitsuba! Best performer to live!” He cooed. I rolled my eyes to his behavior. Me and Mitsuba have known each other a bit since we did both work together but we weren’t that close. He mostly hung around the managers younger brother, Kou or Yashiro. He walked onto stage in his big outfit and I sighed. I watched as Yashiro and Mitsuba interacted with each other singing their lines. It was beautiful. The way their voices sounded, hitting every line as they continued.
 It was nearing Aoi and my time to go onto stage when we heard a snap. 
“Y/n!” Aoi grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I looked up to see the curtain falling down from the ceiling. Mitsuba looked up in shock as it was going to fall on him.
“Ah!” Yashiro yelled as she saw the curtain fall right in front of her. 
“UGH! WHO DID THIS?! SOMEONE HELP ME!!” He tried to push the curtain off of him but was unable to due to his lack of muscles. 
Yashiro, Aoi, and I rushed by his side to help lift the heavy curtain.
“OW-!” Mitsuba shouted and grabbed his right leg in pain.
“Oh no!” Aoi covered her mouth as she gasped “I think his leg is broken!” 
“Let me help you…” Yashiro went onto his right side and propped him up so he could lean on her. I looked up to where the curtain fell and saw a figure. It was hard to see details on his face but he had a half mask covering the right side of his face and a white patch on his left cheek. As I started to examine him further he noticed me and vanished into thin air. Like a phantom of the opera…
Akane walked out and examined the scene in front of him. 
“Yashiro, get Mitsuba a cab to the hospital. Y/n go get Yokoo and Satou and ask them what the hell happened.” Akane pointed.
“Uhm Akane sir, we are on this floor…” Satou walked onto the stage and Yokoo followed behind him.
“Wow, seems like a big mess~” Yokoo purred and Akane grumbled.
“Well if you two are down here and not on your post, then who dropped the curtain..?” Akane asked.
“No idea~” Yokoo answered.
“Weird… I'm just glad Aoi is okay…” Akane sighed. I sighed and walked off the stage. I heard people gasping and whispering to themselves about what could have happened.
“So if Mitsuba can’t perform… who's going to..?” I asked myself. 
Terus pov~
I sighed looking at the ruined stage. 
“Yokoo, Satou, fix the curtain…” Akane crossed his arms.
“EH~?!” Yokoo gasped.
“WE CAN’T LIFT IT ALL BY OURSELVES!!” Satou pointed.
“Well you two should have been watching your post.” Akane said and went straight to talking to Aoi. I stood up and walked to my office. I opened the door to see a white letter with a red wax skull sealing it. I sat in my chair and opened the note.
‘Hello Manager,
I requested that y/n l/n be the main star. This was your warning.
 - The Phantom of the Opera’
I placed the note down hearing a knock on my door.
“Come in…” I looked up to see the door open to Kou.
“Oh hello Kou.” I smiled as he closed the door behind him.
“Teru… do you think it was..?” He slightly whispered. 
“Yes it was. I saw him.” I looked at the note again. Kou walked over, picking up the note and reading it.
“Kou…” I stood up from my chair and placed my hand on his shoulder. 
“What is it..?” Kou looked up at me.
“I need you to get rid of him.”
Should I continue this??
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It’s Tuesday afternoon and like clockwork, Ellie Williams and Abigail Anderson are in the arcade. Every Tuesday and Thursday they arrive within minutes of Dina starting her shift. They don’t come on Mondays as Abby has swim practice, Wednesdays are out cause they both have soccer, and on Fridays Ellie has baseball. Week in and week out, they are here. Bickering and jeering at each other as they bounce between machines, hogging Street Fighter and stuffing ribbons of tickets into their bags. -- prompt: redemption, day 6 of elliedina week small town 90s AU one-shot, Dina works in an arcade and her best customers are Ellie and her meathead cousin
(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble) | (day 4: family) | (day 5: abandonment)
or you can read ‘crushes’ here if you prefer:
crushes 
It’s Tuesday afternoon and like clockwork, Ellie Williams and Abigail Anderson are in the arcade.
Every Tuesday and Thursday they arrive within minutes of Dina starting her shift. They don’t come on Mondays as Abby has swim practice, Wednesdays are out cause they both have soccer, and on Fridays Ellie has baseball.
Week in and week out, they are here. Bickering and jeering at each other as they bounce between machines, hogging Street Fighter and stuffing ribbons of tickets into their bags.
Dina reckons they’d come before school if they didn’t have track multiple times a week.
She doesn’t know how they do it, feeling mildly out of breath just rushing from school to her shift. But they’re gorgeous and sun kissed and athletic and it shows. Strong arms, built shoulders, trim waists, handsome and freckled and gay.
So gay.
She’s unsure if she’s ever seen Abby wearing sleeves outside of her soccer uniform, and every other shirt she owns looks as though she’s ripped the sleeves off haphazardly.
Ellie’s hair is shaggy, still lingering in the awkward stages of a mullet as it grows from a shorter cut, sticking out at old angles under a baseball cap and often half stuck in the collar of one of Ellie’s flannel shirts.
Dina loses too much time each week thinking about it. Ellie’s hair looks soft, her smile is lopsided, her voice scratchy and she just does it for Dina.
There’s something about Ellie that just works.
It’s always worked.
Dina had moved to Jackson when she was fifteen; she sat behind Ellie in math for two years and she barely learnt a thing. Awestruck and stupid at the slope of her neck and the flex of her arms.
She was better now, her tongue no longer heavy in her mouth and the urge to flee was long abandoned.
Dina had worked in the arcade for almost two years, since she was sixteen, and she’d spent many shifts sitting at the prize counter studying for exams, trying and struggling to learn what she’d missed in math that day.
“Hey Dina,” Ellie says warmly, breaking her out of her thoughts.
“Hi Ellie,” Dina greets, wiping her face and hoping she wasn’t drooling as she forces a smile.
Their friendship was new and tentative. Dina still mildly nervous at times after crushing on Ellie from a distance all through middle school. She likes to believe at times that her crush was gone but over the last few months of short conversations, she knew she was slipping.
“Did you have a good day today?” Ellie asks easily.
“Yeah, it was alright,” Dina shrugs, fidgeting with her pen and looking down at her homework. “We got that history essay today though, so I think another wave of assignments is incoming.”
Ellie grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not looking forward to it,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck and Dina feels two years of her life peel away as she watches Ellie’s bicep bulge in the movement. “I’m not the best with writing.”
“I- I thought you wrote all the time?” Dina asks, swallowing thickly. “You’ve always got that notebook of yours out at lunch.”
Ellie’s cheeks turn a little pink and she glances away. “Don’t tell anyone,” Ellie says, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “But it’s all just song lyrics and bad poetry.”
Dina grins, butterflies almost violent in her stomach, her gaze lingering on the slight touch of hazel in Ellie’s green eyes.
“Essays on the other hand,” Ellie smiles crookedly. “Not my thing.”
Dina nods jerkily. “Yeah, yeah I get that.” She blinks, registering her words. “I mean- I’ll pick an essay over math any day but-” She shrugs. “Everyone is different.”
“I’d prefer math,” Ellie says, resting her hands on the counter. “It’s my favourite subject.”
“It’s my worst,” Dina admits.
“If you ever want to study together,” Ellie offers bashfully, waving a hand in the air. “Let me know?”
“I- yeah, yeah I will,” Dina says awkwardly, thinking about how entirely unhelpful that would be and how desperately she’d want that.
“Ellie!” Abby’s booming voice calls across the room. “You gettin’ change or what, dude?”
Ellie sighs. “I’m sorry about her,” she says, rolling her eyes. “She was dropped on her head as a baby.”
Dina laughs, holding out a hand to take some bills from Ellie. “It’s all good,” she smiles, opening the till. “She doesn’t really have an inside voice, does she?”
“Nup,” Ellie grins.
Dina exchanging the money without question, forty bucks in quarters is excessive but they both know it’s nothing new. Both Ellie and Abby worked weekends at their family business Miller Construction to fund it. Neither of the last names are Miller but Dina didn’t question it, always stuck on the image of Ellie in a toolbelt more than anything else. Sometimes they wrap up early on Sundays and come in covered in sawdust and sweat, ready to spend their entire pay and leave Dina breathless.
“We’re getting close,” Ellie says, looking up at the water gun on the top shelf behind Dina.
“I feel like you’d be a lot closer if you just bought one outright,” Dina says teasingly.
“We could never find a beauty like that in the wild,” Ellie says dramatically, accepting the rolls of quarters as Dina hands them over.
She’s not entirely wrong. Jackson was a small town and there certainly wasn’t another place around where they’d find it outside of actually driving to a city.
Dina doesn’t get the appeal, but she admires the dedication.
--
In the following weeks, Ellie and Abby start to come in on days after practice with wet hair and eager expressions.  
“We’re getting really close,” Ellie says again one Monday afternoon. The first time she’s shown up without Abby in tow. “Abby thinks we might hit it tonight,” she continues.
They’d been chatting for a handful of hours, Ellie had come up to get change and lingered to chat until she eventually just sat on the counter. The conversation was easy, Ellie’s smile was bright, and Dina didn’t want it to end.
So of course, Abby finally arrives.
She narrows her eyes questioningly when she sees Ellie at the counter and Ellie is almost immediately pink as she hops off the counter.
“How’d you go so far?” Abby asks.
“I, uh,” Ellie runs a hand through her hair sheepishly. “I haven’t started.”
“Dude,” Abby groans, punching Ellie in the shoulder. “Come on, get your head in the game!”
Ellie winces at the punch. “That was hard!” She protests as she shoves Abby. Abby grabs her and they begin to attempt to wrestle each other, their legs twisting as they both attempt the same move to trip the other over.
“Hey!” Dina yells incredulously. “No roughhousing!”
“Sorry, Dina,” Ellie apologises as they break apart, elbowing Abby when the other girl doesn’t speak.
“I’m sorry too,” Abby says lamely.
“Excuse my cousin,” Ellie says. “She doesn’t have any manners ’cause she was raised in a barn.”
“Hey!” Abby frowns. “That’s not true and we’re not cousins.”
“We are cousins,” Ellie says rolling her eyes.
“No, we’re not,” Abby protests.
“We are too!”  
“We are not,” Abby says exasperatedly. “You’re the adopted kid of my dad’s sister’s husband’s brother.”
“Exactly!” Ellie agrees brightly, turning back to Dina with a smile. “So, we’re cousins.”
Dina tries and fails to hide her laughter.
“Your aunt is my aunt but we’re not each other’s aunt’s children,” Abby tries to argue, looking mildly confused. “So we’re like distantly connected but not related and therefore not cousins.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Ellie says shaking her head. “If my dad is the brother of your aunt’s husband then we’re cousins.”
“We don’t share any grandparents though,” Abby says, scratching her head. “So, we can’t be cousins.”
“Dude, I’m adopted,” Ellie says with a laugh. “It makes no difference if I’m your aunt’s child or your dad’s brother-in-law’s brother’s child, because either way there’s no blood there.”
Abby frowns. “I don’t- I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” Dina interjects. “I don’t think I followed any of that.”
“Anyway,” Ellie says. “We’re cousins and we need some more quarters, please and thank you.”
“We just need 217 more tickets,” Abby says, looking up at the water gun.
Dina looks up at the water gun, dust settled on grey and purple body of it. “I don’t know if it’s worth the tickets,” she says apologetically, looking at the small sign reading ‘Redeem for 15,000’ in front of it. “I have no idea much money you’ve spent so far, but you’ve spent a lot.”
“It’s the 1996 CPS 2000 Mk 1 Super Soaker,” Abby says, as though it means something to Dina. “It’s priceless.”
“Is it?” Dina asks.
“It’s the first elastic pressure Super Soaker ever made,” Ellie adds.
The addition doesn’t clarify anything for Dina and her blank expression must tell them as much.
“It was discontinued last year for the 1998 CPS 2500,” Abby frowns. “The 2500 has an even smaller nozzle than the CPS 2000 Mk 2.”
“Is that- is that what this one is?” Dina asks.
“This is the first release,” Ellie says. “The Mk 2 has 25% less capacity cause they shortened the pressure gauge and most of them have a different pump with a visible pin…” Her voice trails off, seemingly a little embarrassed.
“The Mk2 and the 2500 are shit compared to this,” Abby says. “This is the most powerful Super Soaker ever produced, better than the 300!”
“Oh wow,” Dina says politely, trying to force enthusiasm into her voice.
“It’s got the best time, output and range,” Abby continues. “I heard that someone once shot a kid in the eye with one and it removed the eye.”
“I really really doubt that,” Dina says. “Regardless, when you do get it, please do not shoot each other in the face.”
“We won’t,” Ellie smiles.
“Redemption will never be as sweet,” Abby whispers to herself, still gazing up at the water gun.
--
They get it by the Thursday, lugging in several backpacks of tickets for Dina to look at.
“We’ve come for redemption,” Abby says in a gravelly voice, her expression only serious for a moment before it cracks and she’s grinning dopily.
Counting the tickets was a chore and Dina didn’t do it as closely as she probably should have, trusting Abby’s count considering how meticulously ordered and bound the tickets were in sets of 250.
When Dina finally hands it over, Abby hugs the gun tightly to her chest. Dina’s mildly concern that Abby might kiss it.
Ellie and Abby’s jaws drop when Dina takes another identical water gun out from under the counter and places it back on the top shelf.
“There’s another-” Ellie says, eyes wide.
“I want it,” Abby whispers.
“Abby, we can’t-” Ellie tries.
“I want it,” Abby says wistfully. “We can totally get it.”
“We cannot,” Ellie protests.
“Think of how powerful we’ll be,” Abby says, bouncing on her feet a little like she’s torn between running off to play with the water gun or to go back to one of the arcade machines.
“I just don’t get it,” Dina mutters to herself.
--
It takes a week until they show up again; she talks to Ellie at times at school, but they don’t share lunch period and it’s not the same.
Her shifts feel longer, the kids seem more annoying and her homework seems to make less sense.
Their arrival makes her disproportionately happy, beaming at them as they come over to the counter to make change.
“I see you still have both eyes, Abby,” Dina says almost affectionately. “Did it live up to all your hopes and dreams?”
“It really did,” Abby says giddily, her eyes sparkling. “We’re gonna get his brother now, I think.”
Dina grins. “By the way, we just got in Mortal Kombat 4.”
“Finally!” Abby yells, smacking the counter before stalking away.
“I like her,” Dina says to Ellie.
“She’s pretty great,” Ellie sighs. There’s a beat of silence before them before Ellie’s peers over the counter. “How’s your homework treating you?”
Dina groans.
“That bad?” Ellie asks, looking apologetic for asking.
“Math is just not my thing,” Dina says, dropping her face into her hands.
“Can I help?” Ellie asks earnestly.
--
It’s later that night when it happens.
They spend an hour looking through the work, Ellie sitting with Dina behind the counter as she works through a handful of example questions in a crooked handwriting.
And it slowly clicks.
Dina’s almost giddy with relief as she understands. “God, I’m so glad we’re friends now,” Dina says honestly.
“Me too,” Ellie smiles softly, her eyes crinkling.
“You know what’s funny?” Dina asks, unable to stop herself.
“What?”  
“It’s funny but I had a huge crush on you like two years ago,” she admits.
Ellie’s jaw drops. “Really?”
Dina nods sheepishly.
“Wait, really? Two years ago?” Ellie asks pressingly.
“Yeah,” Dina flushes.
Ellie swears, smacking the table in front of her and pacing in the small space.
“What?”
“I had a crush on you two years ago,” Ellie groans, rubbing her eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Dina curses, her head in her hands.
“I know,” Ellie sighs.
“Fuuuuck.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Dina asks, looking up to question Ellie.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ellie repeats anxiously.
They stare at each other almost angrily in their frustration, tense and regretful. Dina can’t blame her for not saying anything and she knows it.
Two years of what ifs between them.
“You good?”
They both startle, jumping in their skin to turn and find Abby on the other side of the counter, glancing between them and chewing gum lazily.
“She had a crush on me two years ago,” Ellie laments, the words rushing out all at once.
“Okay,” Abby says, blowing a bubble and popping it before continuing. “But like, she still likes you, so what’s the issue?”
Dina has never hated her more.
“I- Abby you-” Ellie stammers, looking angrily at Abby before turning to Dina. “I- I mean, do you?”
Dina swallows before nodding awkwardly.
Ellie looks elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly with restless energy like Abby the week prior. “Do you, uh, do you wanna go on a-?” She clears her throat. “Can I take- Can I please take you on a date? Would you-”
Dina reaches out to stop her, taking Ellie’s hand gently in hers. “I would love to go on a date with you,” she says sincerely, her cheeks are burning, and she knows she’s probably blushing just as much as Ellie.
They smile at each other eagerly, thrumming with excitement and giddy with affection.
“So like,” Abby interrupts. “Can I get some more quarters, though?”
 (Ellie has baseball practice after school the next day. Dina has the night off work, so she sits in the stands, her homework open and ignored in her lap. They go to a diner for burgers and fries afterwards, holding hands across the table, and they have their first kiss that night at Dina’s front door.)
:)
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