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#its her day!!!! the woman of all time!!!!!!!
luveline · 2 days
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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nonstoplover · 2 days
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all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader
summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father
words: 2K
warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh
a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33
please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!
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Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.
A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.
As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.
Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.
God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.
They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.
Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.
Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.
With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.
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When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.
She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.
Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."
"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.
"I can feel it in my bones."
He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.
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Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.
What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?
He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.
This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.
Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.
How did he deserve her?
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As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.
I hope the baby looks like her.
Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.
Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.
Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.
Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.
In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.
Son?
His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.
"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.
"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.
The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.
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Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.
She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.
Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.
Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.
The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.
"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.
She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."
Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.
She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.
"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.
"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.
They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.
"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.
With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.
She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.
A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.
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a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
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1for5 · 3 days
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perks of having a basketball player mom.
paige bueckers x reader
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂🏀
your mom is a “cool mom”. she’s a very successful person. from being a basketball star in her high school to being scouted to uconn for her skills, and to being drafted the wnba.
she played with indiana fever, and stopped playing at 26, as she met your dad and had dreamt of a family. many people didn’t like her decision of stopping basketball, but as she will get better salary at a different field she’s also good in (marketing), and since she wanted a family, she didn’t care about all the negative comments.
she had a good career in basketball, but a woman can change her dreams. people should always be supportive of the goals women have, even if a woman wants to create a family. let women be happy!
2 years later, she had you. you grew up to be very different from your mom. you hated basketball, it’s not a sport where you excel. you excelled in ballet as all parents do, they placed you in a ballet class at the age of 3. you loved doing ballet ever since, and your parents supported you in every step you took.
as a shining ballerina, you’ve been studying in college at the julliard school. you started 2 years ago, and now in your junior year of college. you’ve been training hard to become a professional ballet dancer.
college has been really stressful for you, but luckily it was the last week of march, which is the start of spring break for you.
you book a flight to cleveland that week, as you’re parents are there to see your family friend. as a uconn star, your mom has been friends with uconn’s basketball coach—coach geno. coach geno has been your mom’s coach during her senior year in college, and has been family ever since. coach geno was your mom’s figuratively “cool uncle.”
you arrived at cleveland, and texted your parents that you’re on the way to your hotel. when you arrived, your parents were estatic to see you, asking you many details about your recent week.
after having a conversation, your parents invited you to eat dinner with your family friend. you said yes, and everyone started to get ready.
you and your parents headed to the restaurant, and saw coach geno at the entrance waiting for your family.
“its coach!” your mom said. “hey kiddo! glad you guys are here, glad to have you guys support our team.” coach geno shaked hands with you and your father. your mind began to think.. support? how..?
“how are you coach geno?” you asked, as your family and coach geno settle down on a table. “doing good! your parents haven’t told you this yet, but I’m actually here for a uconn final four game against iowa, and I’ve got tickets for you and your parents. you want to come?” coach geno explained.
so that’s the support he was talking about. iowa also rang a bell in your mind, many of your classmates in school are obsessed with an iowa player. caitlin clark? you think.
you haven’t really watched a basketball game for so long, but the basketball spirit is always fun. you answered a “yes” to coach geno. your parents, especially your mom, were very excited to come to the game. you all then had a good time eating lunch.
fast forward to the following day, which was game day. your mom wanted everyone to wear a uconn clothing. she gave you a “vintage” dark blue baby tee that has uconn at the front. you paired it with a white ruffled skirt and rubber shoes.
it was 9am, and geno was advicing your family to come at the basketball stadium by 10am as he wants the team to introduce your family to the team, especially your mom, since she was a uconn player.
you were doing your hair, a simple half ponytail, and your mom asked you and your dad if you were both ready to leave.
your dad hasn’t really gotten ready yet, and your family just decided to leave at 9:30am. this gave you more time to get your makeup done and prepare your belongings.
after getting ready, you and your parents travelled to the stadium. geno met your family at the front of the stadium, which was already packed with fans. people were also talking about your mom being there, many of the people trying to get a glimpse of a wnba star.
geno then guided you guys inside of the stadium, which had both iowa and uconn media teams getting ready for their interviews and commentaries. walking past them, you and your family made it to uconn’s designated locker room and waiting area.
you see uconn’s women’s basketball team, who were all very excited to meet your mom.
“you know who this is ladies, and with her are her family. that’s her husband and daughter” coach geno introduced you and your dad to the team as well.
everyone were saying their “hello”s, and after your mom having a small chit chat with the team, she and your dad were hungry.
“coach, there are many food stalls around the stadium right? im famished, ill eat first, ill come back after” your mom stated, fixing her belongings.
“yeah there’s a lot! no problem.” coach geno smiled. “hey y/n, you wanna come with us or stay here?” your mom asked. you were actually already talking to a member, nika, and was enjoying the conversation.
“can i stay here mom? i still feel full since i ate leftovers from last night.” you asked, your parents nod and told you to keep safe.
after your parents leave, the team got more chaotic as time passed by. you just continued chatting with nika.
“so, any hobbies?” nika asked, while offering you a small pack of doritos she got from a table. “well.. i would want to do ballet for a living.” you responded, accepting her snack offer.
“no way!!! do you do it as an extracurricular after school?” she said with an excited-and-suprised-at-once tone. “well, i study at julliard so, i do ballet for my studies basically.” you explained.
“you do ballet? that’s so cool! i cant even do a split!” kk butted in the conversation, with the others following.
everyone’s attention is now on you, all asking about how julliard works and your accomplishments. they were all just weirdly looking at your doritos, but you shrugged it off. they were probably all just craving it.
you then got to learn more about the team, how they were scouted, and their current training process and such. you loved everyone in the team.
kk is funny and kind, ice is sweet, aubrey is fun, nika is down to earth, and paige is friendly and sickeningly attractive.
those were just some of the team, and you were very enthusiastic to learn more about the others too.
“so, has your mom ever taught you basketball?” paige asked, her attractive voice and pretty face catching you off guard.
“oh uh, not really. her and dad play all the time though.. and i usually watch. not into basketball but i maybe know a thing or two.” you answered, your cheeks flushing.
“well that’s too bad, i wanted to see you hoop.” paige replied while spinning a basketball. kk then got it. “well i want to see paige do 10 pirouettes, you should teach her y/n.”
paige and y/n chuckled. “i would matic fail. y/n would not want to be friends with me anymore!” paige answered.
after about an hour of more chit chatting, it was now time for warm ups on the court. you were bidding your goodbyes and giving everyone a goodluck.
“i better see you shout chants y/n! ill wave at you when i see you!” paige said, tying her shoes. “bet you i will.” you smiled.
you then approached nika one again. “i will definitely shout whenever you score. goodluck nika!” you gave her a small hug.
“thank you y/n! had fun with you today! ill search you on instagram later. enjoy your doritos!” nika reciprocated your hug.
lastly, you approached coach geno, thanking him for letting you stay and told him goodluck. he thanked you back and gave you directions to the entrance of the stadium.
you then left the room, making your way to the entrance where your parents texted you to meet at. you then looked at the doritos once again, and saw a note.
you’re cute. can i take you out on a date?
if you would like to, don’t hesitate to text me
+01-NNN-NNN-NNN. <3 paige
you smiled hard, you can’t believe that the person you were secretly eyeing on was eyeing you too. well if it isn’t the perks of having a basketball player mom.
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rebelliousstories · 11 hours
Text
Not Like The Movies
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Violence
Word Count: 1,688
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: How Cooper got landed with someone of her sunny disposition, he will never now. And it does not help that she knows his films.
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“Good morning, you cutie. Oh who’s the best little girl ever?” A feminine voice brought Cooper out of his deep slumber. His eyes had to adjust to the bright light outside that flooded the building they had stayed the night in. He looked around for the source of the noise and was relieved to see it was just his partner playing with DogMeat. The man sat up from the bed that was miraculously in the building that probably used to be someone’s house and began to roll the sleep from his muscles and bones.
“Well, good morning to you, cowpoke.” She greeted, allowing the dog to roam around wherever she pleased.
“Mornin’ sweetheart. Whatcha doin’ up this early?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His boots hit the floor right next to where his partner was, as she sat up on her knees to pull him in close. Physical affection was something Cooper was still not used to after all this time, but he was slowly coming around to it. All of the affection happened behind closed doors, or in this case, a closed house. He still had an image to maintain after all.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I spent some time with Bella.” She said cheerfully into his chest. Cooper just sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Don’t go naming the thing. Then you’ll get too attached and then you’ll be depressed when it dies.” He groaned out, shifting their bodies so their eyes met.
“But she can’t be named ‘DogMeat’. That’s not a proper name,” came her cry. She laid on the puppy eyes really thick.
“DogMeat is a proper name because that’s what it is.” He argued back, tilting her head up by her chin.
“Fine,” she relented, and smushed her face back into his chest. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, gotta head into town now. Stock up on some supplies, gather a new bounty hopefully.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her hair, and shuffled so that he could pull both of them up to stand.
“You gonna behave when we get into town?” He drawled, voice leaning into dangerous territory. His partner giggled and nodded her head.
“Of course, Coop. When am I not?” She inquired, biting her lower lip. That woman knew the easiest way to get Cooper riled up was to do just that motion right there. Because, in an instant, his eyes were locked on to her lips.
“What about back in Filly where you kept smilin’ at folks, leaving me to save you from someone’s fist in your face? Huh?” Howard recalled, watching her shift in his arms as she, too, recounted their last adventure into town.
“How was I supposed to know?” Her whimper made Cooper weak, but he had a job to do today.
“Just tone down the sun a little bit, alright? Maybe a nice cloudy day instead of bright ass sunshine.” He offered, bringing her face back up to his. She nodded and stood on her toes to reach his face. Cooperate, ever the gentleman, met her halfway and locked their lips together. They moved as one, letting their lips slide across the other’s. Hands roamed freely, and it was starting to look like they were not going to be making it to town soon. That is, of course, until DogMeat came back in the room with a dead iguana in her mouth. She dropped it on the floor, and pawed at the man and woman who were locked in their embrace. The Ghoul groaned as his partner detached them in favor of tending to the dog he claimed he did not want.
“Good girl. Such a good hunter.” The baby voice was back. Seeing that the dog was getting the attention now, Cooper moved to grab all of his effects from where they were strewn about the room. His duster sat upon his shoulders, while his hat found its spot on his scarred head.
“Come on. Let’s get goin’.” He stated definitely. His saddle bag was slung across his shoulder, and his hand helped navigate his partner through the abandoned house.
They began their trek into town, which thankfully was not too long of a walk. DogMeat followed on the other side of Cooper, hot on his heels. He kept his eyes peeled as they drew further and further into the town. There was a pharmacy, a trader’s hut, several food stalls, and even a mechanics repair shop. Plenty for the two of them. Turning to his partner, he passed her some caps and pointed towards a couple stalls.
“Go get you some dried meat, and get a box of ammunition. Don’t smile so much, alright?” Cooper stressed. She nodded in return and patted his arm as she left with DogMeat.
The Ghoul made his way into the trader’s hut first to find a new bounty that was around. Thankfully, the woman behind the counter had one, and it was simple enough. Someone had not paid her what she was owed, and now she had a hat out on the man. He accepted half of the caps upfront, before moving on to the pharmacy next door. Cooper’s eyes caught his partner and DogMeat traversing the stalls, already having several pouches of meat in her bag.
Which is why he was not afraid to leave her alone while he took his time getting his chems from the pharmacy. Being a ghoul certainly had its drawbacks; the stares, reputation, and fear. But it also held some positives; the stares, reputation, and fear. It certainly helped when acquiring what he needed for a reasonable price. A commotion caught his ears from outside, but he was not afraid that it was his partner.
Until he stepped outside. Cooper saw his partner being crowded against a pile of sheet metal while DogMeat kept barking up a fuss. The dog ran over immediately to the man and began to drag him by his duster over to the woman.
“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get.” Some man crept into her space, making her cower down even further. Based on what he could see, and the description the trader gave, this must have been the bounty. She did mention that he tended to go where he pleased like he owned it all.
“Please. Let me go.” She whimpered. Her voice was full of fear and worry, and Cooper was not about to let that stand.
“Everyone’s got a price. I can pay whatever your price is.” He continued, placing his hand on the woman’s waist.
“I do believe the lady asked you to let her go.” Cooper finally made his way over. The man turned around, and smiled with blackened teeth.
“Don’t worry, Ghoul. Once I’m done with her, I’m sure you can have a turn. Certainly don’t wanna do it the other way around.” He laughed, as if what he said was the funniest thing in the world. Cooper began to chuckle lowly as he peeked his eyes out from the lip of his hat. Catching his partner’s eyes, she felt relief as she saw her savior in western gear.
“See, she might be bein’ nice and askin’ you to let her go. But I ain’t that nice. So now I’m tellin’ you to let her go. Now.” Cooper growled, feeling his patience wear thin.
“Or what, Ghoul?” The man never got to hear another response. In a flash, Howard had aimed his gun and fired on his legs. Blowing both of them off, the not-so-tough man now crumbled to the ground, screaming and crying, pleading for the ghoul to have mercy on him.
“Well, ain’t that some shit.” The Ghoul growled, tying a rope around the torso of the man, and began to drag him to the trader’s hut. He focused on the task at hand, knowing that DogMeat would take care of anyone else that had dared get close to her owner.
Walking out of the trader’s hut, Cooper’s eyes scanned the town as he tried to find her partner. He found her, hugging her lugs, stuck in the same place that she was being held. DogMeat was chowing down on the legs that were left. His pocket felt heavy with the weight of the caps, but all that mattered now was taking care of her.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” Howard held a hand out for her to grab onto, and she did. Eagerly shoving her face into his chest and letting out a shaky breath as she processed the events that had just unfolded.
“I’m good. Can we go please?” Her words were muffled in his shirt, but he understood them plenty. Calling for DogMeat, Cooper led the three of them out of the town and into somewhere more secluded. Once they were there, tears fell from her eyes as the weight of what happened fully caught up to her. He set her down on something resembling a chair, and squatted down in front to check her over.
“You saved me.” She whispered, letting her partner do what he needed to do.
“Course I did. What’d you expect? Me to leave you with that man?” He countered with a ridiculous tone.
“It’s like one of your old sheriff films.” Her giggles matched his groan as he dropped his head.
“This ain’t the movies, darlin’.” Cooper looked up at her.
“It’s kinda like the movies.” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to bring him in close.
“I can always take you back to that town and leave you there.” He stated in her shoulder. She giggled again.
“That’s not very sheriff-y of you.” Every time he thought he had won, she proved him wrong.
“Alright,” he stood up and took her with him, “let’s get moving. Maybe if we’re lucky we can find another house to sleep in.”
“Ooo, do you think we could find one with a television and a few films?” She teased, already walking off away from town. Cooper groaned, but caught up to her and kept her underneath his arm as they walked away from that town.
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ijustmissyouraccenths · 21 hours
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I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)
Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.
Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift
Part 1
CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.
Word Count: 10,085
The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.
Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?
Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.
I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.
Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused. 
In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.
Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.
The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.
In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.
As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.
Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."
I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."
Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"
I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."
As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.
"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.
Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.
She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."
Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.
Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."
I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.
She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."
As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.
The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.
"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."
Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.
Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.
In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.
One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.
“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”
The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."
Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.
As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.
Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.
The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.
I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.
With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.
"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.
I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.
His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.
I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.
The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.
"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.
His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.
The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.
Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.
The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.
The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.
"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.
Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.
The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.
"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.
Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.
The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.
"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.
Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.
The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.
“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.
"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.
"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"
"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.
"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.
I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.
Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.
The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.
I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.
My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.
"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.
I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.
Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.
Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.
Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.
"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.
The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.
My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.
As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.
I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.
A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.
Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?
My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.
I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.
But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?
I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.
With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.
A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.
I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.
The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.
Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.
The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.
One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.
Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.
My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.
The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.
As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.
The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.
I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.
As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities. 
Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.
The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.
A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.
And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.
One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.
My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.
Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.
Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.
A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.
My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?
The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.
As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.
"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."
A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.
"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."
He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.
He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"
I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.
Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."
A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"
I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."
Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"
My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."
His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.
"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.
Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.
I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."
He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"
A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.
Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."
I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."
Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."
My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.
A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.
I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.
I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.
Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.
My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?
As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.
It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.
But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.
I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.
As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
"Objection, Your Honor!"
I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."
The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."
Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.
"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."
The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.
"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."
I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.
But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.
"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."
The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.
"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.
The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."
As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.
And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served. 
Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.
"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."
I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."
"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.
As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side. 
"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.
"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.
As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.
"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.
“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.
"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"
I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."
"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"
"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."
"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."
"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.
Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."
"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me. 
"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."
We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.
As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.
"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."
I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.
"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."
I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.
"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.
Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.
After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.
As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream. 
My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."
Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.
"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."
The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?
"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.
Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.
"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.
And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.
"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”
We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.
"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.
"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.
"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.
Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.
"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.
"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."
My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.
"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.
The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing. 
"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."
As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.
He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.
"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."
His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.
"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."
With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.
Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.
The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.
My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.
I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.
As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.
His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.
"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.
He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.
I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me. 
His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.
He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.
I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.
"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.
The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.
"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!
"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."
He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."
I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.
It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.
I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.
He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.
The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.
"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."
"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."
He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.
We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.
"Wow," I finally managed to say.
We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.
Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.
"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.
He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.
I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.
A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is." 
As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.
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fandomnerd9602 · 4 hours
Text
Square Dance: Two Step
Country!Wanda x Male!Reader
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It all started when your best friend Pietro ‘Piet’ Maximoff invited you to leave the city for a week. He saw how much city life and work was wearing you down, how much you needed a detox from all of the stress and anxiety.
He picked you up in his pick up truck from your apartment on a Sunday morning. Piet was a track star in college, full ride, and your best friend / roommate. Now he works as a mechanic in his home town. He never really talked about home but he loved it.
“I promise, pal” your Southern accented friend told you, “you’re gonna love it. I’m taking you to the best watering hole in the area tonight.”
“Are you still trying to get me to settle down?” You laughed.
“I just wanna see my bud happy. A little tail can help that” he gives you a playful wink.
First things first he helped you drop off your stuff at the guest room in his modest two story homestead. “Sorry I can’t give you the master bedroom” he chuckled, “my traveling sister came back to town, she called dibs”
“I don’t mind.” You said with a shrug, “your sis deserves it” You never met Piet’s sister but you did know about their constant teasing due to having seen their text exchanges.
“Come on, bud” he said practically pulling you out the door. “Let’s live a little!”
You and Piet made your way to the local watering hole and dance hall. Didn’t take long for Piet to make the rounds and chat up a couple people.
“Does Crystal approve of you being here?” you asked your pal with a laugh.
“Speak of the angel and she’ll appear” he responded as his longtime girlfriend made her way towards the two of you. Didn’t take long for Piet and her to go to the dance floor.
The band took to the small stage a second later. The announcer made his way to the microphone.
“Evening fellas, ladies, please give a nice warm applause to our guest singer the Good Witch, Scarlett.”
And with that introduction, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen made her way to the microphone. Her confidence, the sort of kind way she carried herself, it made your heart beat fast.
“Howdy everyone” she said with a southern twang. “Glad to see so many familiar faces in the audience…”
Her eyes locked with yours. Her eyes looked at you with pure adoration. A small smile made its way across her face.
“And so new faces too” she gave you a little wink, “so let’s start shall we?”
Her keyboardist began playing a simple melody:
(Can Love Stand the Test - Don Henley & Bonnie Raitt)
Did I lose your love a long time ago
Or did I just wear it out? Baby, I don't know
Seems like anymore we're not on the same page
In the same book, or on the same stage
We say the words, but they feel all wrong
Like a happy blues, like a sad love song
How two people can bow and scrape
For every shred of tenderness
Can love stand the test
Of times that surround us
Memories that astound us
Joy and happiness
Can love stand the test?
Her eyes were locked on you. Did she feel some sort of connection to you, as you could feel with her? You hadn’t spoken a word and yet it was like you knew her somehow.
We said forever, for always, for good
But the years were not impressed
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
The audience cheered as the song ended. The mystery singer offered a humble little bow. “Alright” she said with a giggle, “who’s ready for a little square dancing, huh?”
The crowd cheered and began asking for their own partners as the singer got off the stage and began making her own way towards you. Everyone else faded away, it was like it was only you and her in that entire watering hole.
“Howdy there” she flashed a gentle smile at you
“H-Howdy” you managed to answer back.
“You’re not from around here are ya?” her twang just made your heart flutter.
“No. I’m in town for a couple days”
“Well City Boy” she gave a little twirl in her hips, “do you wanna dance?”
“I-I got like two left feet” you said with a little embarrassment. She only giggled in response and took your hands.
“Don’t worry” she reassured you, “just follow my lead”
You and this amazing gal danced a couple square dances together that night. Time seemed to blur, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into what felt like love. You could spend an eternity on that dance floor with her and it wouldn’t feel like enough time with her.
The way she smiled those pearly whites at you. The way her reddish brown hair bounced. The way she looked at you with those emerald green eyes that made your heart beat practically out of your chest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone so fast.
Sadly the song came to an end. She offered you a quick bow and a tip of her own hat to you. “Ya know” she smiled at you, “you sure can dance, city boy”
“You’re not too bad yourself, ma’am” you complimented her back.
“How long you in town for?” She drew a little closer to you.
“A week, maybe a little longer”
“That’s an awful long time” she wrapped her arms around your neck, yours wrapped around her waist.
“M-my name’s Y/N”
She offered a gentle, sincere smile, “my name’s-”
“Wanda?” Piet spoke up, staring in shock at you and the gal before you. She gave a slightly embarrassed tip of the hat to Piet.
“Hey bro” Wanda said to Piet
“I see you met my bud Y/N” Piet said.
“He’s a great dancer” she answered back, giving you a gentle smile.
Part of you was horrified. Another part of you was on cloud nine. Your life was supposed to be structured, not on a whim. And yet here you were. Not only had you fallen in love on your first night out of the city, you had fallen for your best friend’s sister.
To Be Continued…
Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
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seramilla · 3 days
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Can we please please pleeeeeeeeeeease have more of tour Exorcists are miscarriages and Vaggie is Carmilla’s daughter story.
Please please pretty please
Vaggie is released from Belphegor's hospital and back to the Pride ring a few days after learning about her origins from Carmilla. The arms dealer and fallen angel had spent several hours that first day coming to terms with the truth, and Vaggie had spent a lot of time grieving, processing, and realizing the life she'd always dreamed for herself was never real.
After that first day, however, the feelings were still too raw, too real, for the little angel to handle all on her own. She's coming to terms that she does, in fact, have a mother, but her previous words to Carmilla still ring true: they've known each other for little more than a month, and while Vaggie appreciates the opportunity to get to know her, and hear more about her family, and their life on Earth...it's still too soon, too early, to absorb everything at once. She needs time. She needs her girlfriend, Charlie.
Right now, she only wants the princess. She wants the familiar scent of her hair, the familiar warmth of her body, the familiar presence beside her at night that can help filter all the sadness and grief. She spends days, up in Charlie's room at Lucifer's mansion. The task of rebuilding the hotel is still at the forefront of everyone's mind, and she's feeling grateful, if not a bit guilty, for everything being put on hold, for her sake.
Charlie treats her with kid gloves; any other time, she might be annoyed by that, but right now, she craves it, longs for it, even. Charlie leaves her room only to bring her food, or help her bathe, or stand vigil outside the bathroom while she does her business. Vaggie can't remember a time when she felt this vulnerable, this weak before. Not even when she first arrived in Hell with her injuries. It's not even her body that's hurting, but primarily her spirit.
Carmilla calls daily, to check on Vaggie. Vaggie speaks with her briefly a few times, when she feels like it, to let the overlord know she's okay. But only for a few seconds or minutes at a time. She feels bad for Carmilla, but thankful that the older woman is respecting her privacy. The only human connection she wants right now is Charlie's; Charlie obliges wholeheartedly, cocooning her girlfriend in layers and layers of warm blankets, and curling herself around her at night. Even her tail wraps around the tiny angel's limbs, as if it knows instinctively that she needs more comfort.
"Are you okay, baby?" Charlie asks, constantly, and Vaggie always says, "Yes." She's honestly not sure if she is, but she doesn't want Charlie to worry. The response is on autopilot at this point. Charlie doesn't seem to mind, and only pulls her in closer, tightly against her chest. Vaggie lets out her wings, and encircles the demon princess in their warm comfort. Charlie sighs, and for a moment, Vaggie can almost forget about the world, and all the trauma she's had to endure existing in it.
She'll deal with it. She will. But right now, she just needs more time with Charlie. Before reality rears its ugly head again, and their responsibilities need to be front and center. The hotel needs to be rebuilt. More Sinners need to be saved. That's what she signed up for, and she can't keep feeling sorry for herself forever.
That will come, with time, she thinks. Right now, all that matters is Charlie. And healing both mentally and physically from her ordeal, as quickly as possible. Charlie still needs her. Carmilla probably does, too, in her own way. But she will have to wait.
Her responsibilities are mounting. There will be time to deal with everything, when she awakens again, and the world makes a little more sense. Right now, she buries herself further into Charlie's side, her strong, protective presence fueling her recovery. She allows herself to sleep one more fitful night's sleep. Just one more time, before reality has to finally sink in, and her entire world changes forever once again.
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elliewilliamsblunt · 20 hours
Text
(¯`·¸.-~*´¨¯`*·~-. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖 .-~*´¨¯`*·~-.¸·´¯)
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Notes!: hi guys! So I tried to listen to the comments on my last post, wanting longer chapters and that's what I did! May have taken me a minute but it's here. But! This chapter will be in Ellie's Pov. Starting the outlook on her relationship with reader and god like an opposite approach for Ellie's backstory. (Which is a bit of a long start.) One thing clear is that Ellie resents the Christian/Catholic faith and you'll see why, which also leaves a small gap between her and the reader being close! :) she also isn't phased by being gay so teehee
Summary: she was never a fox…but another lamb awaiting the slaughter. A new sacrifice to his sins…please don't ruin her…
TW: self-image issues, identity struggle, trauma, ptsd, religious trauma, homophobia, internal homophobia, attempted SA (!NOT FROM READER OR ELLIE!)
*If you don't like dark themes, angst/horrific reads!!DO NOT INTERACT!! If you get mad at me I warned y'all.*
Chapter one, chapter two
Past tense= italics
Present= Normal
↞chapter three↠
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“I was too young to notice, that some types of love could be bad.”
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
Ellie POV
If there was one thing that was clearly apparent in Ellie from a young age, was that she wasn't pleasant. The girl wasn’t sweet, nor angelic from her very birth. She was a whiny baby and an even more stubborn tot. Something that would have been cute in the eyes of other adults. But her parents weren't fond of children, and Ellie certainly wasn't a blessing. Just a very taunting mistake every time she opened her mouth.
While you had the comfort of cozy bedrooms, fulfilling thanksgivings, and a stable spot to live. The copper-headed girl's roots lay in the hazy landscape of a trailer park, barely overseen by her inebriated parents whose faces she could never remember. Walls adorned with faded paint exuded the stale aroma of nicotine and weed, while unwashed dishes amassed, breeding a newfound aversion to insects within Ellie. Nights often greeted her with gnawing hunger, exacerbated by merciless seasons when the air conditioner succumbed to its demise. These were the trials Ellie grew accustomed to when she was young. Because it was the only comfort of a family she had at the time, even if her parents treated her like a leashed mut weeping on a sweltering lawn.
Though her memory was always quite fogged, what she could trigger were either agonizingly loud arguments or suffocating silences that left her to fend for herself for days. Clumsily prouncing around the cluttered trailer in faded t-shirts that swallowed her whole. Desperate for even the slightest acknowledgment from her parents, she often found herself longing for their gaze or a meager morsel of attention causing her rowdiness. Even now looking back on those tumultuous times, she sometimes wished her parents had beaten or screamed at her. If it meant she could have some form of feedback. Yet, such hopes remained unfulfilled, as Ellie was deemed purposeless and inconsequential in her parents' eyes, a mere shadow within the blurred backdrop of their drug-induced existence.
Home, or what she could’ve called it, didn’t last much longer. For the one afternoon she could remember clearly was when it all ended. Confined to her room once more, she listened as her parents' arguments escalated into relentless strife throughout the night. Such nonsense was hardly unexpected; her 'father' had always assumed the role of aggressor, juxtaposed against her mother's perpetual state of hopeless romanticism. The woman was horribly dependent and weak, striking a source of frustration in his eyes, but he never did resort to physical violence towards Ellie. But instead left her to endure her own anguish. Locked up in her room wailing until exhaustion lulled her into unconsciousness, dissolving her fear into a tranquil gentle calm.
When she awoke, the familiar silence was punctuated by a new sound—the sound of weeping from the living room. Intrigued by the unusual disturbance, she dragged herself off the carpet and ventured down the narrow hallway. There, she encountered her intoxicated mother, tears streaming down her face, abandoned by Ellie's father. The scene, now marred by shattered glass, overturned furniture, and faint traces of powder beyond Ellie's comprehension.
"Momma?" she ventured tentatively, prompting her mother to cast her gaze upon Ellie, truly seeing her for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was a fleeting moment, yet it etched a single memory of her mother's worn visage into Ellie's mind. Her mother appeared weary and prematurely aged, with dried blood caking her nose, a bruise marring her cheek, and one eye swollen shut, smudged with remnants of old eyeshadow. "Hey, Els..." her mother murmured in response, attempting to offer a forced smile amidst her tears. Ellie, Oblivious to the gravity of the situation, Ellie beamed at the attention, too young to harbor any ill thoughts toward her caregivers. "Why are you crying, Momma?" she chirped cheerfully, watching her mother's dreadful stare stiffen shifting gears from her feigned amusement. Hinting at the girl's bleak future ahead.
"How about we go to church today?”
༺♰༻
Ellie couldn't remember the last time she had been outside, or when she had been normally dressed. Well if you considered stained baggy jeans and a thrifted t-shirt decent. But she couldn't complain really, the breeze was nice and the sun was lovely on her freckled neck. Walking hand in hand with her mother, it felt almost like a rebirth or what a birthday felt like had she ever had one. She didn’t really understand the simplicity of it or well any normality in a way. Which made her gears turn in suspicion seeing as her mother hadn’t ever shown her this much attention let alone affection before.
"Where are we going, momma?" Ellie would inquire, but the silence stretched on, her mother's expression unyielding. While they strolled down a gravel road for what felt like hours till they reached the town's edge. Passing by grassy fields and scattered countryside homes before coming upon a grand chapel teeming with playful children and vigilant nuns. The sight filled Ellie with anticipation; she had rarely encountered other children outside of television. "Why don't you go play over there?" her mother directed breaking the silence, prompting Ellie to beam with excitement as she dashed toward the group.
Like a dream, the day unfolded swiftly and hazily. Yet, as with all dreams, the afternoon gradually descended into a bittersweet conclusion. The little girl's smile would wane as exhaustion set in, and her lungs stilled aflame from the fervent play. The sky slowly painted itself in hues of orange and pink, and the church bell tolled, signaling the end of the day's reverie. The children, obedient as most lambs, gathered under the watchful eyes of the nuns. But Ellie remained rooted in the tall grass, her gaze scanning the field for her mother, whom she couldn't see.
But she didn't shed tears or utter a scream; instead, she simply waited and muttered a faint whisper…
“Momma?”
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༺♰༻
What Ellie didn't grasp back then in her abandonment, was that her stay in the orphanage wasn't going to be a short-term. Which was a hard subject for the little girl to grasp during recess times when she'd stray from the nun's view just waiting longingly by the gravel road every day. Only to return to the older women with a snotty nose and damp cheeks. Ignoring the caregivers' pleas for prayer or companionship, she remained fixated on her mother's absence. Because she wasn't interested in anyone's attention besides her mother's. She grew even more stubborn by the day trying to battle her frustration and betrayal. Screaming at the nuns to leave her be, beating the girls who mocked her mother's disappearance.
Until one day the pastor took note of the stray after he finished the morning sermon lingering behind while the others dashed outside. There Ellie stood with a pitiful frown just peeping by the door uninterested and going out much more. “What happened?…you always seemed to be quite eager to get out” he teased. He was tall and had a pale slender face with some patchy facial hair. His eye bags were an odd irritated pink while his hair was overpowered with gray. Undeterred, he chuckled at her defiance. “If you'd like to stay inside…I have somethin’ to show you.” he offered, gently tousling her coppery hair. Causing her eyes to light up with interest as he turned away walking down the long halls.
After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Ellie followed the man into his dimly lit office. With its closed, imposing windows and small framed Bible verses, it exuded a somber atmosphere. “Not much of a talker are ya?” He'd joke. But in reality, Ellie was quite loud, despite the past few weeks she just didn't want to amuse him or explain. “Your mother wasn't much of a talker either…or that's at least what the nuns told me.” Unperturbed, he delved into the task at hand, rifling through his cluttered desk until he unearthed a handful of weathered and stained documents. “I don't want to break your spirit much more than it has been…but there's no use for moopin’ on a woman who doesn't want a darlin’ like you around.”
Ellie's brows knitted together in confusion at his statement, her eyes darting quickly to the papers in his hand. Even trying to yank them from his grasp. Before being swiftly denied as he raised them out of her reach. “Easy there, this is important stuff ya hear.” he cautioned, before delicately unfolding the documents in front of her. "I'm afraid there's no note or anything of the sort," he explained gently. "Just your birth information and hospital records."
That final blow caused Ellie’s silence to break, while freckled cheeks flushed red with anguish. She couldn't help but sob, starting to tug at her choppy hair as salty tears streaked down her face. Her heart torn apart and her hope shattered, she uttered incomprehensible pleas through her sobs. “W-what?! N-no no no! You're wrong! My momma is coming back!!” she’d wail. Alarmed, the plasterer gently pulled her wrists away from her head, his voice tinged with urgency. “My god! Child don't punish yourself for her! That woman doesn't deserve your tears," he insisted sternly, trying to console her as she looked up at him, her agony palpable. “Come on….it ain't all bad here. You'll start school, and you'll find a new kind of family. It'll be alright.” But Ellie shook her head in return. “B-but I don't want a new family!” she choked.
“Careful now girl. You don't raise your voice like that.” The man would quickly interrupt causing Ellie's tears to pause and her face to lose some of its color.
Maybe then….should have been the first sign….
As quickly as his stern demeanor had dissipated, the pastor extended a tentative smile and reached out to gently rub Ellie's cheek. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot," he began, his voice softening. "Names David and I promise I'll help you settle in." Ellie met his gaze with a small, timid expression, her name barely a whisper as she sniffled softly. "Ellie," she murmured in reply. “Ya know, what you remind me of Ellie?”
The girl shook her head ‘no’ in return waiting for David to go on. “Ya remind me of a lil fox cub….got Auburn hair like em…young like em.” He’d murmur tenderly adjusting her untamed hair, causing her to tense slightly with the unfamiliar touch. "Fox cubs are born blind and deaf," he continued softly, "but with guidance, they learn to see and hear. Maybe if I and the other nuns can help you open your eyes and ears to God you’ll see, it ain't so bad here." Though, even at that tender age Ellie couldn't believe a word he said. So, unwillingly she nodded in response earning a smile from the off-putting man.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya lil girl.”
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༺♰༻
"Wake up by 7 am, breakfast at 8, morning sermon at 9, classes until noon, lunch at 1, followed by Bible study and afternoon classes until 4, then free time until 9, lights out by 11." This rigid schedule would soon become Ellie's bane by the age of 10. She'd venture every hall, read every verse, memorize the insignificant prayers.
Ellie was bored with her life…
But, her disdain for the routine was mostly rooted from the incessant bullying she endured. In her eyes, Catholic kids were nothing but "prissy, egotistical dicks," Or that's at least what she'd claim. Not that she was wrong, she just remained oblivious to the other side of the coin. She couldn't ever understand the girls who obsessed over magazines they stole from the nun's offices. Or the hypersexual boys she was growing up with.
Ellie's awkward demeanor and biting sarcasm only served to isolate her further. Even attempts at humor with older kids resulted in a bloody nose and lectures from the caregivers. And while you may think adoption could give her a glimmer of hope, living in Wyoming felt more like being marooned on an island—sparse and distant, frequented more by the elderly than young couples. But even then when they'd show, they were much more eager to take home a cute tot not some washed-up girl with anger issues. Left with little choice, she had to acclimate to the orphanage's dreary routine. Even if meals were tasteless, or television was practically non-existent. The boundaries of the orphanage felt like prison walls. Like she was being constantly mocked by god that she should be grateful for this bullshit. Sometimes, she even considered the feeling that the trailer she was born in offered more comfort than the institutionalized existence she endured, now that was melodramatic.
Because it wasn't all bad, she went to bed with a full belly, she slept in silence, and at least she had David. Though he was first and foremost the pastor, not a friend per se, he was the closest thing she had to a father figure. He was the only one patient enough to tolerate her bullshit. Teaching her about the ways of god, or at least trying to. But even if he was a bit…odd sometimes or the way other girls would avoid his gaze. She found him to be surprisingly decent partially because he was the only one who was kind to her. And didn't degrade her for being unpleasant. Sometimes even watched with a smile when she'd clumsily dance around outside with her walkman. He kept up with calling her ‘his little fox.’ Humiliating enough, Ellie let slide without a thought about it because it felt…sweet…and caring. The guy also went out of his way to gift her a journal to jot down her thoughts. After getting her shit rocked by some stuck-up “Claire” chick. When she sat in the chapel steps in the rain, taking the journal into consideration.
“What’s this?” She’d ask the older man while he smiled shrugging his shoulders. “A Journal.” He remarked. “For what?”
“Anything really, for ya thoughts…even stories, or maybe you could take up art I bet one of the nuns would be happy to teach ya,” David added leaving the girl surprised over his consideration. “Really?” Ellie asked softly earning his chuckle. “Just don't go tellin’ the other kids I gave you a gift.” Ellies gaze softened with a nod before she sighed. “You…don’t really gotta worry about that.”
“I don't see why you let 'em get to you girl, nothin’ wrong with bein’…..different” The paster would mumble making her stir with annoyance. “You’re not the one getting hit for it are you?” she’d hiss. But to her surprise, David remained amused. “Believe me, kid, I know all about bein’ different.” He murmured in return reaching out to brush a bit of dried blood off her chin.
“Get cleaned up and come inside, it ain't right for a pretty girl like you to be in the cold.”
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༺♰༻
By the age of 14, Ellie found herself grappling with the tumultuous onset of puberty, an experience she likened to being "kicked in the ass," as she often put it. In contrast to the other girls who were psyched to have curvy figures. But Ellie didn't think much of it, awkward and self-conscious, especially in comparison to the other girls.
Her flat chest and tomboyish appearance made her a target for more of the girl's gossip, leaving her to grapple with her insecurities late into the night. Staring at her reflection in the dormitory's unforgiving mirrors, she couldn't shake the feeling of being too scrawny, too rugged. The sight of herself in the uniform nightgowns only intensified her discomfort, fueling the relentless taunts she inflicted upon herself.
Along with her new intrusive desires when she'd stare a little too long at the other girls. Watching them dry their hair or simply wash their soft faces. Often leaving Ellie stumped with shame and shyness. Not to mention the longer stares from David that shifted her into a brief distance. Taking time to consider the girl's rumors especially when he’d reach out to toy with her choppy hair and whisper. “It’d look nicer neat…”
Only soon she’d cut it off with a glass shard while her stomach churned seeing her reflection in the mirror….
Unsettled and a bit tense, she decided not to think about it. But things, only got worse when she got her first period because she didn't have the graciousness of a mother. But instead an elderly nun far too fucking cheerful for her liking. Spouting nonsense about womanhood and fertility instead of actual information on cycles. “Don’t go lusting now! Stay away from the boys save yourself for marriage!” she’d holler in conclusion humiliating her in front of the other girls as she left the infirmary.
“I don't think you'll ever need that will you lesbo?” Claire would taunt her chuckling with her friends. Leaning on one of the dusty walls of the chapel only to be interrupted with a scoff. “Oh shut up Claire don't you have lunch to hurl?” A girl would taunt in amusement making the brunette flush with utter embarrassment. “Screw you, Riley!” She squealed storming off while her friends mindlessly followed.
Leaving Ellie shocked and her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the sight of the new girl. With her brown skin, captivating hazel eyes, and a cascade of curls, she exuded a quiet confidence that immediately left Ellie flustered. Summoning up the courage to speak, Ellie tentatively inquired, "Are you new here? I've never seen anyone shut down Claire like that before..." She questioned slowly. “N-Not that I'm mad I mean if anything thank fucking god,” Ellie added mentally cursing herself for being so scrambled.
The corners of Riley's lips curled into a snarky smile as she responded, “Hey watch your language…I mean we are in God's home.” she’d humor before going on. "I guess I'm a bit new. I arrived a few weeks ago, but I guess you've been too wrapped up in your own world to notice. It's like that journal of yours is your lifeline," she teased, causing Ellie's heart to race with a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. “Oh? I didn't know you were so interested in my life?” the younger girl countered back.
“You wish…” Riley hummed before shyly laughing. “But it's not like there's anything else to do..”
That was the first time…Ellie felt it….in a long time.
Pure happiness….but something else too….something she couldn't pin down….
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༺♰༻
Skipping Bible study, dozing off during sermons, and sharing sacramental wafers with Riley for a snack became Ellie's new routine as she transitioned into her teenage years. It was a schedule that didn't sit well with the nuns, especially David. Who'd silently glare at the girls in a horrific way that even made Ellie stir. But the girl couldn't care less, because she had Riley. If that girl was anything she was cereal at night, of the sun through storm clouds. She was the ride-or-die that Ellie couldn't bear a moment without. If anything she stopped her from going “Batshit crazy.”
However, their friendship seemed to fuel Ellie's rebellious streak even further. She pushed boundaries by sneaking wine and cigarettes from the nuns' quarters and regularly escaping to the nearby lake with Riley. Where, Riley patiently taught Ellie to swim, sometimes playfully pretending to dunk her underwater until they were both drenched, their laughter echoing across the water.
As they lounged on the sun-drenched grass afterward, their bodies pressed close, they shared tender, innocent kisses, their fingers intertwined in sinful affairs. "Do you ever think about leaving?" Riley's voice was soft, her smile gentle as she posed the question. Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Course I do….I mean…I just…wouldn’t know where to go…how to start.”
"Well, anywhere would be better than this... staying here, becoming a caregiver... I'd rather die," Riley joked, her laughter contagious. Ellie playfully nudged her shoulder. "Please! You becoming a nun? After everything? That'd be a miracle," she teased, earning a playful smack in return. Their banter faded into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared dreams and uncertainties hanging in the air, but Riley had another thing in mind. “What if we ran?” She’d suggested dazing up into the trees.
“What do you mean?”
"What if we left... tonight?" Riley's voice was filled with excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. "The nuns are busy with the younger kids, and David's caught up with the remodeling. If you could just... sneak into his office and grab our records, we could maybe ditch this place..." Her words hung in the air, charged with possibility, but Ellie's expression shifted to one of worry.
"What? No. Hell no, I can't do that," Ellie protested, her concern evident in her voice.
"Come on, Els! He likes you the most! Even if you got caught, what's the worst he could do?" Riley pleaded accompanied by a gentle squeeze of Ellie's hands, which inexplicably sent her heart racing, drowning out the voice of reason.
"Okay, but even then, what about money?" Ellie's practicality interjected, her mind racing with the potential consequences.
"Donations, probably somewhere in his office," Riley replied quickly, her confidence unwavering. "Come on, Ellie, it's a solid plan! Please?" she pleaded, her eyes pleading for reassurance.
Ellie's lips tugged into a shy smile, her resolve softening under Riley's relentless persuasion.
"Okay”
༺♰༻
There was a sneering chill on Ellie's skin, now pickled with goosebumps. When she finally returned to the church it was around 6 pm. The nuns were busy watching the little ones, and David was out front chatting with the two brothers giving the church a fresher layer of paint. Giving her just enough time to sneak back in with Riley still guiltily soaked from the brief escape.
"I'll grab your stuff, then we'll head out, okay? Meet me behind the chapel after." Riley whispered hastily, and Ellie nodded timidly, bidding her a silent goodbye.
Before she ventured down the chilled, dimly lit halls, her heart racing with unease as she approached David's eerie office. Thankfully, the door was unlocked, allowing her to slip inside and close it behind her in a panicked rush. Immediately darted over to his cluttered filing cabinets, frantically sorting through them for any records she could find. But just as she located her and Riley's records and shoved them into her back pocket, she heard the jingle of the doorknob and David's voice echoing through the room.
"Hello? Hey? Who locked this?! Who's in there?" His tone growing increasingly agitated as Ellie's ears picked up the sound of him retrieving a key. Racing against the clock, Ellie hurried to the window near his bookshelf, pushing it open as quickly as she could and preparing to make her escape. But she was too late. In an instant, David seized her by the hips, causing her head to collide with the window sash before she was forcibly dragged back inside.
“Damnit girl! What the hell are you doing in my office!” He sneered pushing her against the bookshelf roughly causing her to hiss in pain. “I wasn't doing anything!” She hissed in return earning a fierce glare from the man. Before his hand reached to grasp her cheeks roughly. “Don’t lie to me now! I know you got something!” He yelled in return before letting his other hand pat down her body disgustingly while she jerked. Until his hand reached over her bottom tugging the folded papers from her pocket. Causing him to dryly chuck holding them to her green eyes tauntingly. “What the hell is this Ellie hm? Where did you think you were gonna run off to? Where you really just gonna go off with that little Riley girl huh?” He questioned sternly.
“It’s better than this fucking place.” Ellie huffed glaring back at him as his nose flared with a heavy breath. “I think I've had it with your mouth little girl. And that Riley girl ain't a good influence on ya either-” David started before she quickly interjected. “She didn't do anything damnit!”
“Like I'd believe that,” He’d huff in feigned amusement. “I see the way you two girls act…even look at each other… it's sickening. And under God's roof? What happened to my little fox…” He questioned longingly, letting his calloused fingertips trail down Ellie's cheek while her jaw tightened. “I’m not anything to you, fucking perv…” She whispered.
The was a still, and horrid silence between the two. Leaving Ellie to watch David's eyes darken and his brows to furrow in betrayal. Until he slowly leaned in to whisper. “I think I outa’ set you straight.” Immediately making the girl’s heart stop in pure fear. Once she felt her back hit his desk and her wrists above her head by one of his tight gasps. Everything was so quick…so repulsive as try screamed and tried to push him off while he lewdly grinned working off his belt. “S-stop! Please! Stop! N-NO NO!!! PLEASE! STOPPP!!!” She howled earning harsh smack across the face. “Now now! You keep it down girl! I don't mind a fight but you better stop squirming or I'll make it worse!” He demanded in return.
That's when it finally kicked…Ellie wasn't a fox….but another mourning lamb….no mother to be found…left bare to the sickening reality of the world…to the vial desires of a man who vowed to be a saint….
A decent of god….
She struggled and sobbed begging to get him off, kicking and pushing as he tried to tug down her shorts. Until the door opened…
A tall man dressed in a aged flannel, and baggy sunbleached jeans supposedly thrown on. Aged but imposing, with a rugged yet undeniably charismatic countenance marred by wrinkles and gray strands infuriating his square beard. But for a fleeting moment, his eyes were wide and he stood frozen gazing upon the loathsome scene. Before he quickly closed the distance, his knuckles delivering a resounding crack to Davids's nose.
It felt good…like sun on your skin….or breath after a long mile….he was her savour…
It felt so fucking euphoric to watch…listening to the pastor's pleas and treated drown out with each blow the man threw. Leaving him barely conscious…his face battered and bruised. Painted with purple….speckled with iron droplets.
Sick fucker…
After a few deliciously blissful moments…he rose from where David laid, choked up on his blood. The stranger's knuckles, now throbbing stained in his own crimson fluids..like a grim trophy of justice. His gaze shifted back to Ellie, a now ghost of a girl. With blown green eyes blurred and irritated from her sobs and her knuckles white gripping her shorts in a still lingering terror.
“You alright kiddo?…” The older man would question in a gentle murmur. Tentatively reaching out to rub her shoulder in assurance, but only making her flinch. And all she mustered was a silent nod rubbing her tender cheek….still aching from Davids's blow.
“Tommy get in here now!” the stranger yelled out ducking his head in the window Ellie wished she escaped from. Before turning back to her with a pitiful look…Ellie resented…
“It's alright…I’ll get you out of this mess…” He whispered slowly reaching to pull her into a dreadful embrace she didn't give into….
That's when Ellie decided….there was no god….
༺♰༻
A few days later…
The ride was enveloped with a silence broken only by Joel's brief introductions. Despite Joel's attempts to welcome her…However, she wasn’t fond of it really, since she heard from his bother ‘Tommy’ that he'd lost his daughter recently. Giving Joel a replacement on a silver platter, and her an ‘abandoned kitten look’. Feral, and shaken up from the harsh world they couldn't fathom to understand. Ellie despised that look….she despised pity…and David for that matter.
She had no desire to be anyone's "little girl" again, nor did she crave novelty. She cherished the familiarity of sunny mornings and the solace of the field where she had once shared conversations with Riley until daybreak. Her heart belonged to the sketches of deer she had etched behind the church, symbols of the roots she had grown, and the passage of time she had weathered. Leaving meant abandoning these comforts, bidding farewell to Riley, perhaps with nothing more than a fleeting kiss.
And as she stared down the gravel road, as Joel led her out of her hometown. A pang of nostalgia made her feel six years old again, yearning for the return of normalcy. But fate had never been kind to her…Especially when that pastor got off scot-free….
No evidence my fucking ass…and having the nerve to put Joel in jail for assault…those bastards-
“Pretty ain't it?” His gruff voice interrupted breaking her stare. “Wyoming is just farms and grass…there really isn't much to it..” She pessimistically answered causing him to chuckle. “That’s true…but you'd be surprised how many places look like this…cities are mostly for the rich..” He added with a small smile. But Ellie couldn't return one just turning her head back to the window while the older man's lips softened.
“Well…maybe you'll grow to love it in time…”
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༺♰༻
Ellie never knew how cold winters could get…or how old public schools were…or even how quite it was without Riley. But she enjoyed the fact Joel was a simple man, he believed in god. But he wasn't like David, or chapel girls. He didn't resort to violence or cult morals…He was a morally right soul…she could…be a kid…she didn't have to worry about death…and sin.
She could just be herself…
Life after leaving the church was,—though "normal" felt like a stretch for Ellie, who found solace in simple comforts. Despite Joel's shit coffee, she relished having her own room and meals that actually tasted good. Her new ‘lair’ consisted of a bedroom, complete with a boxy TV and a dusty PS3, a far cry from the institutional life of the orphanage, even if it wasn't exactly luxurious. Joel wasn’t a money-making man, the man worked in construction she really wasn’t expecting much.
And although she still bore the scars of her past, she was still a bit wary when it came to trusting Joel completely. But she couldn't deny his kindness, even if he vehemently denied it himself. Taking her to museums, letting her rant about shitty high school, even renting her books about astronomy. He oddly seemed particularly pleased with Ellie's tomboyish nature, a refreshing change from his past struggles to understand his own daughter's phases, particularly her Twilight obsession. Though, he still questioned her nature when she pleaded him to teach her hockey in long winters especially since it wasn’t a…girly sport.
"Why aren't you out with other girls from your school, cheerleading or something?" he'd grumble one afternoon, his head pounding from a long day. While Ellie, in her typical fashion, would retort while debating which action movie to watch, "Why would I hang out with preppy sluts or the pigs? I'd rather watch Kill Bill." She snorted scrunching her freckled nose. Partially trying to cover up the fact she was a bit of a loser….
"You really are an odd girl... You're tellin’ me there isn't one kid you like at school?" Joel persisted, prompting Ellie to tense up. "There's... Cat, I guess," she mumbled softly, her embarrassment palpable.
Joel simply hummed in response, not dwelling on it. "Why don't you go hang out with her then, instead of talking my ear off?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. But Ellie's reaction was unexpectedly fierce, her eyes flashing as if his suggestion was outrageous. "I-I can't just... I can't just hang out with Cat!" she whined rubbing her flared cheeks.
"Why not?" Joel prodded, genuinely curious. "You just don't get it... I'm not that bold, I guess?…I don’t know Joel! It’s just weird..”
"So you can walk around this place like you're tough, but you can't talk to a girl...?" Joel's suspicion lingered in his tone. "Shut it, dinosaur..." Ellie scowled.
"Whatever you say, kiddo…”
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༺♰༻
It wasn't until the approaching end of senior year that Ellie finally mustered the courage to talk to Cat, a girl she had been gwaking over since junior year. With a nudge from Jessie, who insisted she’d ask Cat out to prom. Luckily Cat found Ellie's awkward front adorable eagerly accepting. Especially since queer girls weren't a common thing in town. But the girls quickly spun into late-night dates, study sessions, and parties as the days counted down to the dance. Joel wasn't thrilled about it, but Ellie felt like she was finally living out her teenage years. Like she starred in “10 Things I Hate About You,” where her nerdy ass somehow managed to pull the gorgeous “Bianca.”
Her first real girlfriend…
And when prom night came and she was met with the pretty girl on her doorstep. She couldn't ever forget the pretty blue eyeliner and her lacey black dress, paired with the leather jacket Ellie had lent her. Along with Joel's shocked yet embarrassed look on his face when Cat greeted her with a sweet peck on the lips, his presence catching them off guard in the living room. Fortunately, Joel didn't seem to mind much, only offering a quiet plea that they refrain from such displays of affection in front of him, if only for his own dignity. Pondering the “friendship” he was proctoring those weeks.
Life was well, senior summer was lively filled with Dina, Jessie, and Cat. Traveling across Wyoming, getting tattoos, basking in the short summer of the country. Until then bitter start of fall faded in…and it was back to school…
Even if she had no interest in college she’d go for Joel’s sake. Though it seemed pretty fucking difficult seeing as expensive it’d be even for just in-state…ontop of that he didn't have much funding to send a kid to college, with his daughter gone most of his money went into his own hobbies.
Joel was retired….Ellie was grown now…she needed to get it together…
But fuck it was hard…and she was a striving pessimist… Well until she saw the checked-on scholarship offers, her eyes lighting up over the email.
“Girls hockey! Financial aid and insurance offered! See details below”
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༺♰༻
Present…
“It’s fucking bullshit Joel!!” The auburnette hollared into her phone, storming out the sink early. While chilled winds brushed her cheeks as the reddened. Not exactly pleased with the news of being a rookie babysitter. When she could be spending time taking shifts at the records store, or hanging out with her lover. “It ain't that serious Ellie…” the older man grumbled annoyed with her stubborn complaints. “Are kidding?! Maria just taking in some newbie who can barely skate! If she keeps up with this bullshit we won't even reach nationals!” She cried out in frustration feeling her chest tighten. “Then it’ll be local games and t-then the team will be useless and broke and-”
“Ellie!” Joel huffed in return. “What?!”
“Now look here, you are far to old to be havin’ a goddamn tamptrom over some new girl. With that attitude I'd be surprised if you made it anywhere! But if you keep crying rather than helping this girl out what do will happen to the team?” The older man scolded causing Ellie to sture with embarrassment. “S’ still bullshit..” She retorted earning a sigh. “Just…be nice for Christ’s sake I’m sure you know what it's like to be alone…”
“Whatever….”
“And quit giving your aunt a hard time before she actually kicks from the team.”
“You know she's bluffing.” Ellie hummed, as her anger faded and her lips tugged into a cocky smirk. “Still…can you be less of a smart ass?”
“You’re killing me dude..”
“Love you too kiddo.” Joel snorrted before hanging up. Leaving Ellie to sigh in silence but there was still one thing clear….
You better not fuck up what she has…
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
Notes!: HIIII, thank you for reading! I hope the end didn't feel tooooo rushed, I might edit a bit more later but I'm happy with this! The next chapter picks up with training 🙏 (sorry I keep writing emo shit) but i do want go make this series long so! Please give me feedback if the build up is too slow!
Taglist: @vqxen @shiimer @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis
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samlee2224 · 3 days
Note
Can we hear about your milgram oc 🥺🥺
( no pressure ofc )
I have 12 Milgram OCs! But now there are only 8 ( or 9 ? ) people who have stories. I'll introduce them to you!!↓
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(I use Translate app and my little abilities, hope you can read and understand it.)
In Samleegram, We have 2 prison guards and 10 prisoners
Prison Guards
[000]
Name : Es (エス)
CV : Sakamoto Maaya (坂本 真綾)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 153 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EC6BB (Monte Carlo)
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Es bright and cheerful, They is close to almost every prisoner. They always make free time to talk with prisoners. But no one knew that they was secretly recording prisoners' information all the time.
They patrolled at night every day. Many people think it's because they works hard. But actually they was just trying to find a way out of here.
Es often gets teased by Ar for being short. So they asks Jackalope for a new pair of shoes. That makes them 160 cm tall. which is higher than Ar. LOL
((Es rarely wears a hat because it makes seeing difficult.😢 Es always cooks for everyone to eat, sometimes some prisoners come to help them. (but Ar doesn't help.)))
__________
[000]
Name : Ar (アル)
CV : Uchiyama Yumi (内山 夕実)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 159 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EB8C6 (Polo Blue)
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In fact, Ar was the assistant prison guard. Its main duty is to interrogate prisoners. They was verbally violent during the interrogation. In this prison, there was hardly anyone to like them. (← It should be like that)
Ar is very foul-mouthed and has a temper. (💀) Do you see that whistle? They usually blow it when prisoners don't behave as they please. ( Why does it sound cute..? )
((Ar doesn't often wear hats either. But it's because he's just lazy. Sometimes Ar wears Es’s hat because Ar can't find their own.))
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Prisoners
[021]
Name : Kinoshita Haru (木下 晴)
CV : Kitamura Eri (喜多村 英梨)
Gender : Female
Age : 22
Birthday : January 6
Height : 173 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F59795 (Wewak)
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Haru hardly speaks to anyone. She usually communicates by writing on the board. She also isn't good at facial expressions, which makes some people think she's strange.
Haru often smokes with Masato (024) regularly. And She seem to be trying to approach Akihiko (26) for unknown reasons.
She used to like to sing and play music, she used to set up a band with a close friend before. But why did she stop doing it? Hmmm? you'll have to wait until this part of the story is revealed.✌️
((I intend to design Haru to look like a man. Due to her past story But she is a woman. However You can use the anypronoun with her that she/her he/him or they/them. She doesn't seriously about this.))
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[022]
Name : Murata Kei (村田 軽 )
CV : Murata Ayumu (村瀬 歩)
Gender : Male
Age : 14
Birthday : August 19
Height : 154 cm.
Bloodtype : AB
Image color : #BCCCD1 (Link Water)
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Kei is the youngest prisoner. He has dark circles under his eyes that are clearly visible. It's because he almost didn't sleep. Even though he went to sleep, he had a nightmare anyway, so he thought it was better to take that time to study.
He often said that he was not guilty , Never kill people , Milgram caught him wrong. And he wanted to leave here very much. 'My father will definitely find me.' He always said that.
Kei looks particularly close to Hinata(023), maybe because of his similar age, he often follows her like a chick(?) Everyone in prison always sees them next to each other.
((He used to ask for cosmetics from Es, so Es thought that in fact, he might love beauty?))
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[023]
Name : Tsugiyama Hinata (杉山 日向)
CV : Hanazawa Kana (花澤 香菜)
Gender : Female
Age : 15
Birthday : March 23
Height : 148 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F4CFC5 (Coral Candy)
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Hinata is a friendly person and always talks to others. Everyone sees her cheerful and looks polite all the time. But once in a while she accidentally slipped out of a rude word. Make everyone shock…
She bandaged her arms all the time. Ritsu (028) volunteered to change the bandage for her often, but she often refused him and did it on her own. She didn't want anyone to see the that wound.
Hinata didn't have the attitude of wanting to leave milgram at all. Hinata thought that this place was much more comfortable than her house. If not sticking to the vote that she didn't like it.
((Hinata doesn't like the uniform that Milgram provides. Because it makes everyone see the bandage clearly.💢))
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[024]
Name : Kimura Masato (木村 正人)
CV : Hirata Hiroki (平田 広明)
Gender : Male
Age : 43
Birthday : February 20
Height : 187 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #78BC8E (Bay Leaf)
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He is the oldest person in milgram. He lived a sluggish life as if he had completely lost faith in this world. Sometimes he acted like a father of children in prison.👴
Masato talks to Ritsu(028) most often. discussing life problems, adult edition (sounds depressing). He often smokes with Haru(021) on a regular basis, even if the other party lets him talk to a single swim.
Masato didn't pay much attention to milgram, But if he could choose, he wanted to get out of here, Because he still didn't complete his duty.
((He thinks it's not bad to have free cigarettes.))
__________
[026]
Name : Matsui Akihiko (松井 昭彦)
CV : Taniyama Kishou (谷山 紀章)
Gender : Male
Age : 18
Birthday : April 1
Height : 169 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #FFBF65 (Rajah)
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I haven't made much of his story yet. But as you can see, He's not very friendly.
Akihiko often quarrels with Ar regularly (He actually quarrels with everyone but.. uh… with Ar the most.)
__________
[028]
Name : Itsuki Ritsu (樹 律)
CV : Furukawa Makoto (古川 慎)
Gender : Male
Age : 35
Birthday : June 30
Height : 182 cm.
Bloodtype : B
Image color : #3359BF (Cerulean Blue)
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Please marry m- NO, I mean, Ritsu always takes care of others, maybe because he's a doctor, so he's trusted by everyone.
He is very close to Masato(024), probably because Masato is the male of his age closest to himself.
((Look at his smile ^^ 🥺))
__________
[030]
Name : Higuchi Ryota (樋口 僚太)
CV : Uchida Yuma (内田 雄馬)
Gender : Male
Age : 20
Birthday : October 12
Height : 174 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #C1D48C (Deco)
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Ryota doesn't have any other information yet, I'll update it later!
__________
Thank you for reading to the end!!
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A picture-Perfect Hello.
Spencer Reid picture-perfect.
Spencer Reid had no idea when he came home from a long case that his new neighbor would be the love of his life. And together they would create the picture-perfect life.
A four-part series.
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Warning Contains spoilers for Season 13 as well as Season 12. Post prison Spencer Reid.
Ages 18 and over. Contains oral sex. Penetrative sex. Reader on birth control pills.
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Spencer came home from a long case. A six Day one to be exact. He was surprised to see a pile of boxes sitting in the hallway in front of an apartment building that he assumed was still to be empty when he came back home. It's not that he didn't want new neighbors. He just didn't expect there to be any, given that that apartment has been vacant for the past seven months.
he was So exhausted from the trip back home that he really just wanted to go to sleep. But he knows that that would be rude not to even try to offer Any help to his new neighbor. So he unlocked his door and put his satchel inside. Going over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink, leaving the front door open So he could see if the new neighbor passed by. After a few minutes, he decided to shut the front door and go stand out in the hall. He made it to the front of his sofa before he saw a pile of boxes walking by his door.
"Oh, here, let me help you" he said, running out of his door.
" Oh my gosh, thank you so much that this so kind of you." He heard a woman's voice coming from behind the pile of boxes.
" Sure, no problem. Let me just grab these" he said, pulling two boxes off the top of the pile.
Spencer couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the woman that was behind the box. a Brunette with Short hair. And blue eyes.
" Hello" he managed to get out. " My name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. I live in this apartment right here". He told her, using his thumb to point back at the door.
" Hello my name is y/n It's so nice to meet you. I didn't know if anybody lived in this apartment. I've been moving in for the past two days and I haven't seen you."
" I was at work. I.. I'm, I'm an FBI agent, so I wasn't home for six days."
" Ohh wow. An FBI agent? That must be really exciting."
" It can be. It has its moments that it's exciting. Yes, I, you know, I I definitely enjoy the work that I do, putting away the bad guys and all that. Definitely rewarding, yes. Kind of tiring though as well if I'm being honest. But still, it's.. it's really nice work." Spencer began to ramble.
" Would you like to come in and put those boxes down?"
" Boxes? Ohh yes yes. But I would love to put the boxes down" Spencer answered, not even realizing anymore that he was holding boxes.
" Just try to find a place to put them down at. I'm sorry I haven't really officially moved in yet. I'm staying with a friend of mine while I get everything out of my dirtbag ex boyfriend's apartment." She explained to Spencer she was waving her finger around the room with her other hand on her hip.
"Oh, sure, no problem. It it's going to take some time to move in. I'm sorry about your boyfriend."
" Oh, don't be. He was a lousy piece of crap that wasn't even any good in bed. I mean, it is seriously Exhausting having to fake orgasms all the time. It would have been nice if I could have had a real one during the two years we were together." She huffed out angrily.
Spencer's face must have lost all color or the opposite turned as red as a strawberry when she was saying this. As she stopped right in her tracks and they started apologizing.
" Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I mean, I just met you like what, 5 minutes ago if that. And here I am already talking like this. Please forgive me. I understand if you don't want to help me bring in any more boxes and if you want to pretend that I don't even live here, I completely understand. Have a tendency to over share my feelings when I'm angry and Needless to say, I'm angry."
" no need to apologize. I understand you being angry and you know, I hear a lot of stuff being an FBI agent. Plus I do have three women on our team, so, you know, I I hear things."
"Wow. Three women on your team. That's impressive. I just assumed that the FBI thought that that was men's work. You know? Good to see that we're making a little progress in the world."
" Ohh no. The FBI is full of women. You really have made a lot of progress in the work world. You know, it's been statistically proven that women are more effective at catching serial killers than men in some cases." He Explained to her.
" Really? well. I guess if you piss us off enough, we'll hunt you down."
" I guess you could say that, yes. Uh, there's three agents that I work with that are women. And then there's our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. She's wonderful as well."
" Well, that's good. Got to get rid of those bad guys, right? And bad ladies, I'm sure as well."
"Yep" He said, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. Kind of uncomfortable now that the conversation has ended.
" So do you have more boxes you need me to help you bring in or?" He asked, waving his hands around nervously.
" Yes, I do. I have five more boxes out in the car."
" OK, well here let me help you with that."
"So does you being an agent mean that I'm not going to see you much? Because that would be really sad. I think you're really cute. And you obviously are smart."
"OH no. I'm home when I can be most of the time. And if I'm not home or out on a case, I spent a lot of time on a jet too. You know, going to the crime scenes. It's a lot easier for me when it's local because then I get to come back home. It gets a little tiring having to be in hotels all the time. Sometimes it's really nice to just come home to the comfort of your own apartment and bed, you know?"
"It is."
After Spencer helped her bring in the rest of her boxes, she went over to a box marked kitchen and pulled out a coffee pot.
" Would you like some coffee? I love coffee and I can't live without it." Asked, holding up her pink coffee maker.
" Really. I love coffee too. Yes, I.. I.. I would love some. My friends always put me down. Well, my my coworkers. But they're like my friends. Actually. They're like my family. They make fun of me sometimes for loving coffee so much."
" Why would they Make fun of you for that?. Oh well. Between you and me, we could probably empty out the entire state of coffee beans."
" Yeah, we probably could." He said with a big grin on his face.
" So how long have you lived here?" She asked him.
" 14 years."
"Wow, 14 years. That's amazing. Must be really nice here. Well, for the amount of time that you hear, I guess you couldn't really judge."
" Well, I've been here long enough, yeah, to know that. That's. It really is nice. Yeah, but you're right, the amount of time that I'm actually here for. Really can't judge, but sometimes I am here for a week at a time."
She walks into the kitchen and plugs in the coffee pot.
" I know exactly where my coffee beans are. They're in that box over there marked coffee."
" Spencer Looks over at the box. "Ohh here let me get it for you."
" Thank you. You're such a gentleman. I mean, not only helping me move in, but also helping me make coffee. You'll find mugs in that same box, by the way."
When Spencer opens the box, he sees 5 bags of coffee and seven mugs.
" Ohh wow my friend Penelope. She would love your mugs. She's the queen of coffee mugs. Although in her case sometimes it's also hot tea, so mugs in general."
" I think I'd really get along with this, Penelope."
" She is wonderful." Spencer tells her where the chuckle.
Spencer hands her a bag of coffee, a pack of coffee filters and two mugs. A pink mug with a rainbow on it and a black mug that says I love coffee.
" I think this will be my favorite mug" he told her, holding up the one that says I love coffee.
" Well then, we will make that your special mug for when you come over, and that is if you want to ever come back."
" I want to come back. I I look forward to it."
Spencer Reid being a man of science, never really believed in love at first sight. But there's something about her he feels that he could spend the rest of his life with, even though he's only known her for about an hour tops at this point.
"You know, if you come back tomorrow, I have been known to make some pretty good muffins. By then I should be able to find my baking stuff. But that is only if you would like to. I understand. If you don't want to, it's. Completely understandable."
" No, not at all. I would love to come over. Muffins sound really good. Muffins and coffee? That's. That's really good. Yeah." He said with a chuckle, so happy that she would like for him to come back.
" OK then uh 8:00 be OK?"
" That'd be great. I don't start teaching until 10:00, so. 8:00 would be good."
" I thought you were an FBI agent".
"Ohh. Well, yeah, I ...I am. I am an FBI agent. But I also teach sometimes because I'm not Fully on the team at the moment, but that's a that's a long story for. Another time so". Spencer said nervously. What was she going to think if she asked him why he wasn't on the team full time? What if she doesn't like that he was in prison even though he didn't really commit the crime he was arrested for?
" OK, well, another time it is."
" So I can be here at 8:00." Spencer asked, wringing his hands.
" Unless 7:30 would be better for you."
" 7:30 would be great. That would be great. That would give me half hour more to be able to get ready to go and teach my class."
" OK, 7:30 it is. I should already be started by the muffins, by then"
" Great" Spencer said.
" Do you take your coffee?"
"Black with sugar." Spencer answered, placing the two Mugs next to the coffee maker that was just about done.
" Black with sugar, You got it."
There was a little bit of awkward silence as the coffee finished brewing. Before y/n Poured 2 mugs of it, adding the sugar into both mugs and going over to the refrigerator to get some Creamer.
" I know it's strange. I already have Creamer in my refrigerator, but says I said I've been moving in for a few days, so I don't really know why I have Creamer in my refrigerator. Didn't even have my coffee maker yet, but I'm a weird one. "
" Not at all. " Spencer said.
After the coffees had been made, the two of them sat down at her little kitchen table.
" You know, this table was actually left behind from the previous renter. I don't know why, but hey, I was happy to have it. " y/n said.
" Yes, well left behind furniture is always good. Unfortunately, nothing came with my apartment. "
" Wow. Usually somebody leaves something behind. " she says taking a sip of coffee.
" So can I ask what you do? Or do you not have a job yet in between jobs?"
" Ohh yes, I'm a Blogger."
" Spencer said, not really knowing what that was.
"Do you know what that is?" She asked him. Putting down her mug.
"No, not really. I'm sorry."
"No problem. I have a blog. It's a computer thing. It's on the Internet. It's a page Where I show you how to do things like highlight your hair and things I used to do. I also show a lot of cooking things, like how to make the muffins I'm going to make tomorrow, along with other things that I make."
" Oh, so you teach people how to do things via the Internet?"
" Yes, exactly."
" Ohh like life's important things like faking orgasms." He said with a chuckle as he took his first sip of coffee.
y/n Almost spit her coffee out at his response.
" Yes, exactly. I I really did do one of those. It was my most popular video to date, actually." She told him, laughing.
" Well, at least you're helping people with the important things in the world. Ohh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I really need to be getting to work. Umm, so I can come back tomorrow, right?"
"Absolutely. I look forward to it."
After Spencer went to teach another class, knowing that people really weren't going to be paying him any attention anyway. He was just kind of going through the motions. His mind, even though he was trying to teach about serial killers, just kept going back to His beautiful new neighbor and how he couldn't wait to get back to her apartment tomorrow.
Once class was over and he stopped at the grocery store to pick up something for him to eat for dinner. He went back home. He was so tempted to knock on his neighbor's door to see how she was doing. Or really just to see her face again. To ask her if she would like to come over and share his dinner, but he didn't want to be too forward, she said. I'll see you tomorrow morning, so tomorrow morning it would be.
He ate his dinner, took his shower, got in his pajamas, brushed his teeth and went to bed. Unfortunately though, for Spencer, sleep did not come easily to him. He just kept thinking about the beautiful woman next door. But was she doing? Was she sleeping? Was she lying awake, thinking about him, The way he was laying awake? Thinking about her?
He really needs to stop these Thoughts that are running through his head and try to get some sleep morning would come soon enough and he would be at her front door again, tapping on the wood, waiting to get inside.
Eventually, morning came and he did just the thing that he said he was going to do, ran out his front door before smoothening out any wrinkles that may be on his sweater. Before knocking lightly on her wooden front door.
" I'm coming, he heard being shouted from The other side of the door. He waited for a few seconds before he heard the deadbolt on lock the door opening, revealing the woman that he's awaiting all night to see. Wearing a light pink tank top and a purple apron. That had some baking flour stuck to it.
In all honesty, she was so beautiful and the fact that she was making muffins for him, it took all he had not to drop to one knee right now and ask her to marry him. It wasn't just because she would serve him muffins. It was because no one was willing to make anything like this for Spencer and his entire life. And even though he had only met this woman one day prior, he knew he was in love with her. He knew that this was the woman that he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.
" Hi, come on in. I'm so sorry I had to run to the store. So I'm a little bit later making the muffins and I thought I was going to be. I didn't have any flower. I forgot that I threw it at my ex when he told me that he didn't need my cooking anymore. It was juvenile, I know. But it was in the heat of the moment. So I just threw it at him."
" Oh, wow. OK, no problem. Take your time. If if you don't have the time to make the muffins right now, it's OK. I can come back tomorrow."
" Ohh no no, she cut him off. I have the flour, I'm just measuring it out now."
"OK, sure, can I help you make the muffins? I've never really baked anything before."
" Really. You would like to help me make muffins? OH my gosh yes. Thank you so much. I would love for you to do that. You know my boyfriend Will, my ex sorry-ass boyfriend never would have offered to help cook with me. He thought that cooking and baking was stupid and that it was just. Useless hobby."
" Well, that's not nice. Baking is a wonderful hobby. Cooking. We all need to eat to survive, right? So he didn't have any right to pick on you for that. I'm so sorry that he was like that to you. I promise I will never be that way to you. I mean, not that we're a couple. You know, I'm not presuming that you would want to be in a relationship with me. I'm just saying if it should ever come to that, I wouldn't be that kind of boyfriend. I'd be loving and supportive and help you with anything that you wanted." He began rambling.
" That would be wonderful, you know, if we ended up being together and cooked together, married one day. Just think. We would tell our children how we met and they would think it was so sweet."
Now Spencer's mind was really racing again. She's considering a life with him. She's actually thinking about a life with him and having children with him and telling them about how they met one day.
" Spencer?" He heard her saying.
"yes?" he answered.
" Would you like to come into the kitchen and help me?"
"Oh, Oh my gosh. Yes, yes, I would love to. OK, umm, So what do you need me to do?"
" Well, unfortunately I don't have a spare apron. And if you're planning on wearing this Sweater. You may not want to mess with the flour, but you can wash off the blueberries for me.
"Oh yes, of course." Spencer said, opening up the pints of blueberries and pouring them into a pink strainer to wash them off.
" I'm so sorry that you have to wait longer for the muffins because I forgot to get flour.
" It's OK. I'm actually happy that it happened because now I get to be a part of the muffin making process." Her as he finished straining the rest of the water off of the blueberries.
" That's so sweet, you can take and dump them into the bowl right there with the sugar."
The two of them stood side-by-side preparing muffin batter.
Before placing the batter into baking cups and putting them in the oven. y/n Pouring some coffee for them while they wait.
" So how did you sleep last night?" She asked, putting the two mugs of coffee down.
How did I sleep? OH my gosh how can I tell her that I couldn't sleep? Because all I could think about was her. How much I wanted to come back over here and see her. How I know she's the love of my life. How can I tell her that without her thinking that I'm crazy? Spencer thought to himself.
" I slept rather well, thank you." He told her he feels so bad about lying to her, but how can he tell her about his true feelings without scaring her away?
Once the muffins were done and they started eating them, it was the most delicious blueberry muffin Spencer had ever had.
" These are incredible" he told her before stuffing and other piece into his mouth.
" Thank you so much. I'm so glad that you like them. You know, I also make coffee cakes and strudels and stuff like that, so, you know, I could keep feeding you if you're interested."
If Spencer could have his way, he would make breakfast with her every day for the rest of his life.
" I would like that. he told her with a smile.
The next two weeks went on like this, meeting every day. Went to teach, unfortunately his teacher. Come to an end and he was forced to go back to the station.
" I'm back on FBI time now, so I may be gone for a little while. I'll let you know if I have a case. That way you don't start making something for me and I'm not here to get it." Told her, looking down at his thumbs that he was twiddling.
" OK, well, I'm going to miss you if you have a case, but I have a lot of muffins leftover. Would your team like some?" She asked him.
" I I think they would, yes, they're amazing. And if they don't want them, well, I'll gladly eat them."
" OK, great. I'll pack some up for you."
Spencer reluctantly left her apartment to go to the station, carrying with him a large basket of blueberry muffins. They placed them on the table of the round table room.
Luke came into the room and saw the basket of muffins along with Spencer sitting in his usual chair.
" Hey, welcome back Reid" Luke said to him.
" Hey, Luke. Thanks. It's nice to be back."
" Muffins. Are those for anybody or are they just for you?" Luke asked.
" There For anyone. My new neighbor Likes to bake, so she sent me to work with some muffins for you guys."
" She Ohh. I'm I'm not prying just is she someone that You might be interested in. I'm. I'm not meaning to pry. I just. I worry about you. You know, you go back to your apartment all by yourself and you don't really get any visitors. It would just be nice for you to have someone."
" I really like her, Luke. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to tell her. You know, I know that I'm the age that I am, but I don't have much experience with women. The only girlfriend long term that I really had got murdered in front of me. So I don't know how to talk to women." Spencer said sadly.
" Well reid. I can honestly tell you if a woman is willing to make you muffin's. And allow you into her apartment, I'm assuming."
" She did. I helped her move in."
" Then yes, she likes you." Luke told him before taking a bite of muffin.
" Really?" Spencer asked.
" Yes, really. And if she makes muffins like this my God man, go back home now and ask her to marry you. These are delicious."
Unfortunately for Spencer, he was going to have to wait to see his ladylove again. he had to go away on a case. The next three months' time continued to go this way. He would be home for a day or two enjoying the baked Goods with Her before having to go away on another case. They really didn't get to spend much time together anymore. They were both afraid that the feelings that they had for each other would fizzle away. But maybe, just maybe, people were right. Time apart does make the heart grow fonder. It left them both wondering though. Feel this way about each other. They're just neighbors, and they've never even kissed. Just enjoying talking about things over coffee and baked goods that Spencer often helped make. He really enjoyed the baking process and the fact that it gave him more time to spend with y/n but all of that changed quickly after Spencer finally had some time off since he was teaching again. So she invited him to come over and watch a movie. That was for the best, considering that Spencer really didn't have any movies that weren't foreign films.
"She picked (your favorite movie) To watch She Thought that Spencer would really enjoy it.
" I can't believe you've never seen this movie. I've seen it about 1000 times and can say just about every line with it". She told him.
" Well, I haven't seen very many movies that aren't in foreign languages, so this will be a fun to experience for me."
That night was a turning point in their relationship. As they sat on the sofa together, they realized neither one of them was really interested in the movie. They were more interested in each other. They've been away from each other for too long, and tonight was the night they were finally going to kiss.
However, Spencer Reid being amazing at everything was also in the world's greatest kisser. We've got turned on so much by the kissing that it wasn't long before Spencer was asking against her lips. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"
y/n Moaned a Yes, against his lips.
If Spencer picked her up off the couch and carried her into her bedroom, he knew exactly where it was. Not because he's been to her apartment so many times, but because the layout of her apartment was exactly the same as his own. Before he knew it, he was peeling off her clothes and kissing her passionately.
Shouldn't she was doing the same to him with the same urgency.
However, before Spencer removed her underwear. He asked if it was OK for him to do so.
y/n Couldn't get the word "yes" out fast enough. As soon as she was bare to him, he looked up into her eyes to make sure that She was OK with what he was about to do.
She panted out a yes before he licked right up her center. Causing her to moan out his name. Something that, if he was being honest with himself, was something that he was dying to hear over the past 3 1/2 months.
He took his time with her, loving the way that her fingers felt running through his hair. After he gave her two mind-blowing orgasms, he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to be inside of her. 
"Do you have any protection?" He asked her, praying to the gods, anyone of them that she would have something. 
"I'm on the pill and I'm clean". She panted out
 the smile on his face, almost taking up his entire face at this point. 
"Good" he panted out. Before slowly pushing inside of her. They both moaned out at the feeling. Something that they were both longing for, for so long. As he slowly moved inside of her, his fingers intertwining with hers.
The only sounds in the apartment at this point was the sounds of their moans and lips smacking.
" Where do you want me?" Spencer asked y/n Feeling that he was close told him.
" Inside, inside Spencer, I want to feel all of you."
And be more thrilled at these words. They both orgasm together and it was like pure heaven.
Spencer helped her ride out her high, and as he did, he couldn't help but stare into her eyes, seeing how beautiful she is.
Spencer eventually had to pull out. So sad for both of them since they both waited for so long. Both of them hoping that it would happen again.
They laid in her bed. Spencer's arms, holding her tightly to his body.
" Are you sorry that it happened?" Spencer asked sadly. As y/n Hasn't said anything since they orgasmed.
" No, not at all. Are you?" She asked with full of worry.
" No, absolutely not. I was worried that you were going to be sorry. I mean, it's been silence for a little bit." Spencer said with a gulp.
" No, I'm so happy that it happened. I waited for so long, you know, Honestly, I wanted you from the very first time I saw you, but I didn't want you to think that I was Trashy." She told him, running her hand up and down his bare chest.
" I would never think that, and honestly, I was the same way about you." Spencer told her with a smile.
"Who would have ever thought that me walking by with a stack of boxes would have led to this? that just a simple hello would have led to where we are today."
" I know. I guess you could say it was a picture-Perfect Hello." Spencer said before kissing her again.
Thank you so much for reading. Comments will be greatly appreciated and I look forward to writing the rest of this story. there should be another chapter out by the summer.
@thebloomingeagle
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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 21 hours
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Galileo Galilei Main Story
Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.
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(Who...?)
I wanted to open my eyes to see whose cold hand was touching my forehead, but my body refused to move, and I slipped into unconsciousness once more.
After checking Mitsuki’s condition, Galileo returned to his room and stood there for a while.
Galileo: “........”
After hesitating, he opened a drawer on his desk and took out a worn-out origami crane.
Galileo: “I thought as much...”
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The scar on Mitsuki’s forehead, which he had just seen, and the story he heard last night about the origami cranes, triggered a memory in Galileo’s mind.
It was from the time when he traveled through various countries and eras, using the door.
When he arrived in a certain eastern country, he witnessed a scene where a vehicle was about to hit a girl.
Realizing that the girl wouldn’t survive, his body moved on its own. Before he knew it, he was holding the girl in his arms and lying on the roadside.
Girl: “Thank you, big brother. You’re my lifesaver.”
Although he had caused her a slight injury on her forehead, the girl smiled, and the origami crane she gave him as thanks was still in his hand to this day.
Galileo: “The girl I helped back then was Mitsuki.”
Galileo: "That was an event from when I traveled to the future, which means Mitsuki came from the future using that door in the mansion."
With the strange fate involving Mitsuki playing out in his mind, Galileo couldn't help but sigh as he sensed his own fate intertwined with hers.
Galileo: "Even if she doesn't have any special powers, it seems she's still the woman of destiny."
Galileo: "How ironic."
His self-deprecating murmur faded away into the room.
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Mitsuki: "Mn..."
When I woke up, the sun was already setting.
I moved slightly despite the lingering heaviness in my body and noticed something gently resting on my forehead.
(Ice pack? Did someone take care of me?)
(Was it Drake? Or maybe...)
At that moment, I heard a knock.
Galileo: "Are you awake?"
Galileo entered, holding a fresh ice pack.
Mitsuki: "Were you the one taking care of me?"
Galileo: "You got injured because of me."
Galileo: "It would be embarrassing if you fell ill because of that."
He said this before I could respond, and a small smile escaped my lips.
(This guy really has a strong sense of duty.)
But whether it was out of obligation or genuine concern, it was heartwarming to have someone look after me.
Mitsuki: "Thank you, Galileo."
Galileo: "........."
He accepted my thanks silently and approached the bed.
My heart raced wildly in my chest as he removed the ice pack and placed his hand on my forehead.
(This is the gentle, cold hand I felt while I was asleep earlier.)
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Galileo: "It looks like you're recovering enough to speak, but you still have a fever."
Galileo: "Rest a little longer."
Mitsuki: "Okay. Thank you."
After placing the medicine and drinks he brought on the table, he quietly left the room.
Though I was alone again, I didn't feel as helpless as earlier.
(My chest somehow feels warm.)
(Is it because he was here with me?)
Feeling calm this time, I drifted into another sleep.
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A few days later, my health had fully recovered, and I resumed spending my days with him.
We passed through the door and found ourselves on another moonlit night, and each time, I witnessed him struggling under the miasma.
That night, I reflected on the various times I had seen Galileo.
(Why does he keep going out on nights of lunar eclipses?)
All I knew was that he was looking for something, but I still didn't know what it was.
Even though he was suffering, he took some time to recover and then traveled again.
Realizing that he was repeating such actions, I got worried.
(I can't bear to see him like that. I want to stop him for his sake.)
Every time I got to know him better, I found myself unsure of what to call the emotions I had towards him.
He was a frightening man with intense anger hidden beneath an icy, cold facade. Yet he was also compassionate, engraving his sorrow and pain onto himself.
(Seeing him like that is painful.)
Despite aspiring to destroy the world, he tried to help his brethren and even took care of me.
(He has his kind side too.)
Each of these extreme aspects seemed to be part of his truth.
(The way he appears changes from time to time, like the phases of the moon.)
But I still felt like I hadn't discovered the true "him" yet. Just then, I heard footsteps from outside the room.
Curious, I stepped out of the room to find him and Sidereus getting ready to go outside.
Mitsuki: "Galileo, are you going out at this hour?"
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Galileo: "Yeah. Sidereus finds this place too confining."
Galileo: "Besides, the sky is clear tonight."
I noticed he was carrying a telescope in his arms.
(Maybe he's going stargazing while walking Sidereus.)
Suddenly, curiosity piqued my interest.
Mitsuki: "Can I come with you?"
Galileo: "Is that to get to know me better?"
Mitsuki: "Yes. You said you wouldn't hide or run away from me, remember?"
While it's true that I want to understand the real him, I'm also intrigued by his personal life.
After a brief moment of silence, Galileo spoke up.
Galileo: "It's your choice."
(Does that mean it's okay for me to go with them?)
Mitsuki: "Then, I'll go with you."
I quickly got ready and followed them until we arrived at a flower field.
Sidereus: *Bark! Bark!*
Sidereus ran around happily in the wide-open field.
Smiling at his puppy-like innocence, I looked at the sky to see the crescent moon and stars sparkling like gems.
Mitsuki: "There are so many stars out tonight."
Galileo: "Yeah. There are no clouds today, so it's the perfect time for stargazing."
He chose a spot and swiftly assembled the telescope.
Once everything was set up, he peered through the lens, occasionally lifting his head to gaze at the night sky.
For some reason, as I gazed at his profile, I found myself captivated by his eyes.
(Is this how he looks when he's stargazing?)
His amethyst eyes were filled with passionate longing, as if yearning for something unattainable in the distance, evoking a sense of melancholy.
(His eyes are really beautiful.)
I found myself admiring his eyes more than the stars.
Galileo: "Want to take a look?"
Mitsuki: "Huh?"
Galileo: "You've been glancing at me since earlier. Isn't that because you also want to see the stars?"
Mitsuki: "Yeah! I'd love to take a look!"
(Thank goodness he didn't notice I was admiring him.)
I stood in front of the telescope, feeling relieved inside.
It was my first time stargazing through a telescope, so I was really excited.
Mitsuki: "Huh? It's blurry. I can't see well."
Thinking I might have messed something up, I tried to adjust the focus, but...
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Galileo: "Let me see."
(…....)
He leaned over me from behind, his warmth enveloping me.
As he adjusted the focus, my heart beat loudly.
(My heartbeat is so loud.)
(Why am I feeling so nervous?)
Galileo: "There, try looking now."
Mitsuki: "Ah..."
Galileo gently guided my hand to the telescope.
My cheeks flushed as I peered through the lens, feeling the warmth of his cold hand.
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Mitsuki: "It's beautiful..."
I sighed in awe, seeing the stars before me.
I glanced up and saw Galileo looking at the stars with a serene expression.
Galileo: "No matter the era, the brilliance of the stars remains unchanged."
Galileo: "They illuminate everything on Earth, regardless of hatred or sorrow, urging us not to turn away from the truth."
(Truth...)
His words stirred something within me, reminding me of certain words.
------------Flashback-----------
Galileo: "Fine. If you're going to speak as if you understand everything, then go and see it with your own eyes."
Galileo: "See with your own eyes what I am trying to accomplish and what my true desires are."
---------Flashback Ends--------
(One of the few things I've learned about Galileo is his belief in confirming the truth with his own eyes.)
“But why have you not observed this instead of reducing yourself to having to believe the tales of others? Why not see it with your own eyes?”
The words from the book he lent me echoed in my mind.
(He's someone who seeks the truth with his own eyes.)
(Huh? Didn't I have a conversation about someone seeking the truth before?)
------------Flashback-----------
Galileo: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."
Galileo: "I know a fool who pursued the truth despite knowing this and ended up with a life sentence."
---------Flashback Ends--------
Suddenly, his words came to mind.
(Could that be…)
(Could that be him?)
It was one possibility I had arrived at.
However, I couldn't bring myself to voice it because I didn't want to disturb him as he gazed at the stars with fervent eyes.
(If it's true that he got a life sentence, then what could have happened in his past?)
(I don't really know how he lived as a historical figure, but I know he supported the heliocentric model and left the famous quote, "And yet it moves.")
It was frustrating that I only knew fragments of his history.
(I want to know more about him.)
(I want to understand him and touch his heart.)
Those feelings grew stronger.
Galileo: "Had enough of the stars?"
Mitsuki: "Huh?"
Galileo: "You've been lost in thought for a while now."
Mitsuki: "I was just..."
I looked up at the sky again, swallowing the rest of my words.
Mitsuki: "I was just thinking that they're still beautiful, even though I don't know their names."
I made that comment to hide my true feelings, but then a streak of light flashed across the sky above us.
Mitsuki: "A shooting star! Did you see it!?"
Galileo: "I saw it. Don't get too excited just because you saw one."
Mitsuki: "Sorry. But it was so beautiful! It was over so quickly."
Excitement bubbled up within me, and Galileo let out a sigh.
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Galileo: "I didn't expect to see this side of you."
(.......)
For a moment, I felt like my breath had caught in my throat.
The smile I saw for the first time was so gentle.
(I really don't understand.)
(What are these feelings?)
My chest tightened, and I found myself unable to speak.
As if a shooting star had fallen, a nameless, tiny sparkle settled in my heart.
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shadow1515 · 2 days
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Too Sweet
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Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 
50 notes · View notes
enhadiares · 2 days
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“GAME OVER”
Chapter 1 | Let the game begin
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👾A/N: I AM FINALLY STARTING A SERIES! It's very exciting but since it's my first time after my hiatus so I hope you guys like it!
👾Pairing: enha x fem!reader
👾Warning: This is all fictional!
👾Synopsis: Bound within the confines of a virtual realm, a group of friends must decipher its mysteries to secure their freedom. Amidst the labyrinth of challenges, they encounter a formidable adversary - a lurking shadow who controls their fate. As alliances fracture and betrayals unfold, they must confront not only the puzzles of the game but also the sinister presence that seeks to keep them imprisoned. Only by overcoming both external threats and internal conflicts can they hope to break free from the shadows within the game
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A new dawn breaks in the bustling city of the United States, with the sun casting its usual bright rays, offering a glimmer of hope to some for a better day ahead.
Amidst it, boredom creeps in, despite the anticipation of summer vacations being fun and exhilarating, right?
Well, not for you.
The shrill ring of your black device snaps you out of your reverie, prompting you to answer.
"Look who's on the line! It's the white sheep!" you exclaim upon picking up the call.
"Why the crankiness, woman? I called because we're considering checking out the new arcade that recently opened" Jungwon, the young man, explains.
"A new arcade? Count me in!" you reply eagerly, rising from your seat with excitement finally brewing. You've always adored arcades and never shy away from expressing it.
"Alright, my lady, come over to my place at 5, and we'll head out together" he chuckles at your enthusiasm.
"Sure thing, Mr. Sheep Garden" you retort playfully before hanging up. You flop onto your bed, letting out a scream into your pillow while kicking your feet in the air.
Now, that's what a vacation should feel like.
••••••
The following day dawns, and you wake up a bit later than usual due to the excitement from the previous night hindering your sleep.
After completing your morning routine in the bathroom, you emerge in a robe, pondering over what to wear.
After much deliberation, you settle on a stunning Y2K fashion ensemble.
Once dressed, you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, feeling thoroughly satisfied with the result.
Hailing an Uber, you head to Jungwon's house as planned, the journey taking approximately 15 minutes.
Upon arriving at the house, you press the doorbell, and a familiar face greets you with a beaming smile.
"She's here, guys!!" he announces excitedly, his happiness infectious.
"Didn't expect such a warm welcome! You're like a ray of sunshine, so bright" you remark, sharing in his enthusiasm.
This is Sunoo, the embodiment of cheerfulness within the group. His actions are naturally endearing, and his voice resonates like that of an angel.
"Hey, what's the hold-up? Let her in first" another voice interjects, followed by a playful tap on Sunoo's head.
It's Jay, the nurturing figure of the group, known for his caring nature and impeccable sense of style. Though he plays the role of the group's guardian, his fashion choices exude sophistication and elegance, earning him admiration from all.
With a smile, you step into the house, unaware of the lurking presence in the shadows nearby.
Inside, the rest of the group awaits, each offering their own unique greeting as you enter.
Jake bounds toward you like an excited puppy, his invisible tail wagging with joy as he envelops you in a tight hug.
"Calm down, Layla's dad" you giggle, reciprocating his affection.
Sunghoon follows with a firm handshake, his demeanor as cool as ice, a nod to his past figure skating exploits , but he doesn't lack warmth nor humour.
"Oh yes, Mr. Icy" you wink, returning his handshake with equal firmness.
"Look here comes the sheep" you proclaim with a hint of sass as Jungwon greets you with a lively laugh, his playful demeanor belying his natural leadership qualities.
"Call me something cool, woman, 'sheep' sounds so childish" he teases, adding to the playful banter.
Next is Niki, the youngest of the group, greeting you with a wide smile and a brotherly hug. "Yessir," you both exclaim simultaneously, sharing a bond forged in mischief and camaraderie.
Finally, Heeseung, the group's ace, joins in, his mastery evident in everything he does.
"What are you waiting for, Bambi boy?" you jest, opening your arms for a hug, which he accepts with a smile.
As the group settles in, a figure emerges from the bushes outside, a smirk playing across their lips.
"All the players are assembled," they declare with a hint of mischief.
And with that, the stage is set.
Let the game begin.
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klutzyroses · 1 day
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Sorry to bother I adored your panuck attack headcanons and was wondering plesse van you do it for the other suitor as well ? 🙏 Thank you Have a wonderful day 😍
I wasn't entirely sure which suitors you wanted in particular so I picked 4. Have a wonderful day~
IkeVamp HCs: Panic Attack pt.2
Suitors: Arthur, Isaac, Comte, Vlad
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Arthur
As frivolous as one may have the impression he is, when the time really calls for it, he will step up.
When the woman started to get anxious, he picked up on it immediately. Being as observant as he was, he noticed the telltale signs.
Jittery movements, agitated breathing, flushed face, all the signs of an incoming breakdown. The mystery author has had anxious patients before, it was nothing all that foreign to him.
Stopping a panic attack as it begins is no easy feat, so he knows its better to either prevent it, or damage control.
He would gently guide her away and sit her on his lap, rubbing her arms as he whispered soothingly to her.
"Let's breathe luv. Deep breaths, there you, my darling..."
He cupped her face and encouraged her to focus on him. When she calmed, he praised her and made sure she was alright, having her drink something warm and keeping an eye on her mood afterwards.
He would basically be the best comfort.
Isaac
Okay...he is a bit hopeless here at first...
He genuinely felt at a loss when she started to hyperventilate and quivering, behaving like a cornered animal ready to attack and defend herself.
To be honest, he had half the mind to find Napoleon, he always knew what to do but...
He couldn't allow another man to take care of his woman.
So, to the best of his ability, he tried to handle the situation himself. He took her to his room and sat alone with her, holding her hand. He hoped the quiet place would sooth her frayed nerves, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.
He kept this up until her hand tightened around his, indicating she was regaining her control.
"Are you...okay now?"
He hesitated to tell her that seeing her like that had been scary, he had thought for a moment she was having a heart attack.
From then on, he would be just a tad more wary about things that could frighten or unsettle her.
Comte
He had seen so many tragedies, disasters, horrors that had jaded him to that sort of anxiety, to the point he nearly forgets that his cherie was not quite of the same metal.
When she started to fall apart, he reacted immediately, taking her in his arms when her legs gave out, shielding her in his embrace.
He had her listen to his calming voice, tenderly brushing her hair from her face as he pressed his forehead to hers, bring one of her hands to his lips.
His eyes never left her teary, wide ones as his presence started to ease her anxiety. Her vulnerability both hurt and touched him at once, feeling a surge of protectiveness.
"Mon diamant, your tears make my heart ache, tell me what can I do for you?"
Once he had her breathing calmly, he asked her if she wanted to leave, quick to comply when she says she does, cradling her to him as he wrapped her in his coat. As soon as they were at home, he has Sebastian make her a relaxing tea.
He would not leave her side until he knew she was completely at ease again.
Vlad
If he were to be honest, he himself was no longer familiar with the concept of panic and anxiety. Perhaps, after living so long, through the things he had, he was numb to that sort of thing.
That didn't mean that he wasn't quick to react when his love started to succumb to fear.
Trembling, whimpering, labored breathing, erratic movement.
Behavior that reminded him that his beloved was just a human being. She seemed to fragile and breakable.
Leaning down to her, he brushes her forehead, using his abilities to fill her mind with pleasant sceneries, flowery meadows and mesmerizing lakes, anywhere to take her mind away from what so frayed her nerves.
When she was calmer, he pressed his lips on her forehead.
"I am here, my flower, don't be afraid."
He would shower her with love long after the attack passed, simply because he felt she needed that extra bit of doting.
🌸
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pagannatural · 2 days
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2.12 Night Shifter
-Although Dean is impersonating an FBI officer when the jewelry counter girl asks him what it’s like, his answer is a truthful description of his life: “it’s dangerous, and the secrets we gotta keep…but mostly it’s lonely.” This wouldn’t be anything wincest except that he looks guiltily over at Sam twice while getting her number. The theme of loneliness between them and the brothers’ yearning for closeness from each other has come up several times this season, most obviously from Sam needing Dean to open up to him. But Dean is feeling it too. Sam was hanging off of him drunk last episode and Dean walked away from him so it makes sense that he’s trying to get someone else in his bed, and clearly thinking about Sam while he does it.
-Sam lies to Ronald. In the past he’s been the one who wants to tell civs the truth, while Dean lies. Dean’s instincts appear to be right here, and Sam’s sour impression with Ronald becomes an obstacle moving forward in this episode. It serves to highlight that Sam is still just not as experienced at this. They’re both really good with people and have high interpersonal intelligence, just in different ways.
-Dean feels “naked” without weapons. He’s been living in fear since he was four so that makes sense but it’s so bleak.
-Dean takes control of the situation with Ronald and Sam looks scared for him, then miserable when he’s locked in the vault and separated from Dean.
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One of the bank employees asks “who is that man?” and Sam says “he’s my brother” as if that answers her question even a little bit. She wistfully says he’s brave and Sam looks even more miserable. He’s so sick of women fawning over his brother.
-a second scene of this woman fawning over Dean at Sam! I could watch this all day. Sam becomes increasingly perturbed with each passing moment. Listening to someone wax on about the person you’re secretly and wretchedly in love with but can’t have is terrible but especially when it’s someone who doesn’t even know them. He looks like he’s holding back on an emotion. Sam could just be irritated by the way Dean is overshadowing him, but I would expect him to respond by rolling his eyes or looking irritated rather than conflicted and sad.
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Sam looks up to Dean. He doesn’t admit it until later on in the series, but Dean is his hero. His hero and guardian and brother and the only one who can kill him.
-Sam bumps his shoulder against Dean’s on his way out of the bank vault. He didn’t need to do that, there was space. People like to accidentally touch their crushes. And right in front of the fawning woman, like a cat rubbing its cheeks against its human’s legs to mark him.
-Sam points out that Dean is wanted by the police and is visibly upset. I love that Sam is the one panicking about this. Dean is too but he’s trying to be brave and save face for Sam.
-oh this is where they walk up to each other like they’re going to kiss. They’re making eye contact as they get really close and Sam kind of half circles Dean, looking into his eyes. It has the same vibes as the scene from Silver Linings Playbook where the love interest is teaching the main character a dance and instructs him on how to walk to her like he’s in love with her. You can see Dean moving his lips telling Sam he knows who the shifter is, but no sound, making this moment feel even more private
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-the way Hendrickson says “there’s a monster in the bank” and then it cuts to Sam gives me chills
-Hendrickson mentioning that Sam is “the bonnie to your Clyde” makes Dean smirk. Sam is his wife. “That part’s true”. They could’ve said the butch cassidy to your Sundance or something but they went with a romantic couple and had Dean smile like aw yeah, that’s us, like he’s still so happy to have his baby back with him on the road.
-“they’re dangerous, smart, and expertly trained” god they really ARE. This show really earns their reputation.
-Dean is mid-action bringing a knife down on what he thinks is the shifter when Sam says in a near-whisper “Dean waitwaitwait”and Dean pauses to look over his shoulder. He’ll do anything Sam says. Sam’s gentle protest is more important than killing the shifter.
-Sam fights the swat team duo and wins. They escape and drive away knowing that they’re fucked and being hunted by the FBI. Their ascension from petty criminals to most wanted outlaws is so good because they are dangerous and fucked up and doomed and yet they’re together. I also love that Sam solved Dean’s problem by getting the uniforms and gear off of the two SWAT guys. He’s protective of Dean.
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Text
To the Depths of the Sea
Bones in the Ocean Masterlist
CW: I don’t know, man. Siren commits a murder? This is out of order, timewise, but it's what wanted to be written, so...
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His name was different, then.
It was not a clumsy tongue against the roof of a small mouth, flat teeth and full lips mouthing animal grunts without melody. Back then, his name was a lyric, a new line in the sirens' endless, ancient song. 
His very being was a scale of perfect pitch. Sirens sang together, notes dancing up and down that mortal mouths and lungs could never recreate. He and his mother and his sisters sang in harmonies, children of the goddess of moon and tides, the wild water-woman who could turn a calm sea to turbulent waves in an instant. 
He was born, at some point long ago. Borne by his mother, with his sisters huddled around her to be a dozen midwives, while the moon shone on the rock and the goddess watched. Born, yes, but he did not age, his wounds healed, he did not die.
Time shifted around him, like it did for all of the gods’ children.
The waves slapped the sand, sirens sang on rocks, and ships came and brought the men who heard their song. The men who steered their ships, unseeing and smiling, into the reefs to shred them apart, so that their bodies could be given to the sirens, and after that to the sea.
The ships changed, with time. The clothing the sailors they tore into wore changed, the style of shoe, the weight or shape of a sword and finally of the strange rifles. All these things changed.
The sirens didn’t.
They remained the same.
The siren boy had been sunbathing on the beach that day, eyes closed. The heat of the day lay over his brown skin like the humans’ heavy blankets, lulling him into a dreamless doze. Somewhere nearby, his sisters sang for their supper, having seen a ship hovering at the horizon.
But the siren boy was not alone. He was not the only one on the island to hear the song.
His eyes snapped open when he heard the softest crush of footsteps on underbrush. An animal, he told himself, even as he pushed himself up on his elbows, turned to see, half-hidden in the shadows just back from the beach, a human man staring back at him.
The human man’s hair was tangled and dirtied, hanging in clumps over his face. Mud had dried on his face and his shirt was worn nearly to shreds. He must have survived a past wreck, somehow slipped through the sirens’ fingers. Been here since then, wandering the island. He must have somehow held out against the siren song’s pull.
The man’s mouth moved.
He was whispering, but the siren was too far to hear him, leaning against a palm tree’s heavy, narrow trunk to stay upright. There was something wrong with one of his legs, the pants were torn but nothing was there beneath the tear.
The siren got slowly to his feet, tipping his head to one side. His curly black hair shifted, shadowing his own eyes as he moved soundlessly over the burning sand, where driftwood bits of broken ships lay in dried, bleached lines around him, their companions the scattered bones of the sirens’ meals.
Human voices, so flat and featureless, disgusted him.
But the eating would be good, and then the man's foul flat voice would stop interrupting the melodies.
“Monsters,” The man was whispering, but the siren didn’t know this word. He didn’t know any of their words. He knew what those throats tasted like, though, beneath his teeth. “Th-this island is made of monsters… You’re not a boy-... y-you’re not-”
The siren took one step, and then another. Each step sank his foot slightly into sand, brushed against shell and stick, rock, bone, and wood. Each movement a hypnotic sway, and he licked at his dry lips as his mouth watered for the meal.
His sisters’ song was all around them, and yet the man didn’t fall to it.
Their eyes met, then. The man’s were a faded blue, like the sky when the sun nearly bleached out all its colors with no clouds to subdue its power. His skin was like dried animal hides, wrinkled and tough. All bones and sinew, no real meat for the eating.
It didn’t matter.
All men were meals.
“They-... they said there was gold here.” The human’s whining voice, like a child, grated on the siren. Some foul mockery of the beautiful way the sirens spoke to each other, all out of tune, off-key. Not a song at all. This man’s name would be like the harsh screech of the birds the sirens ate during starving times, when there was nothing else. 
There was no song in this man.
“There… isn’t any gold, is there?” The man’s voice tipped upwards, but the siren ignored it. He was so close he could smell the man, human odor of sweat and blood and something rotten where his leg used to be. The man was trembling, voice and body shaking together. He closed his eyes, slowly, and lifted his chin as if offering himself for the taking. Even so, his lips still moved in pointless speech. “It was a-a trick, a lie-... there was no gold here…”
The siren was on him.
He took him down onto his back, the underbrush soft beneath them. A flock of birds took flight with their cries an echo of the siren’s own triumphant song, one that buried itself in blood. A hundred teeth sharper than a shark’s tore out his throat, devoured skin and muscle, picked clean bones. The siren’s melody as it rejoiced in the meal was a sharp thing, rending apart the man’s soul and sending it to be held by the ocean, like all men who died to sirens and the sea.
His prey never fought him.
But it whispered, once more, with dead sightless eyes and unmoving lips, monster.
The siren woke.
He was not in the sun-warmed sand or roaming the island he had always known, his sisters and mother beside him. He was in a cool pool of pointless water hemmed in on all sides by stone, the high windows mocking him with the world he could not escape. The dream was already fading, and the memories of who he had been, more than a century ago, faded with it.
He lost himself, every time he woke.
He found himself only in sleep.
Areyto rolled aimlessly onto his back, staring up at the ceiling whie he floated in the water. He could feel the tingle of the power in the marks the magicians made, each decade, that kept him captive to his master’s whims. He could feel how the marks drained his memories away, the ones he could see in dreams but that were lost to him after. He floated there feeling his sisters fade to little more than shadows, a thought he'd had once. Maybe never real at all.
Moonlight shone, diffused by the windows so much his goddess could not have heard him, no matter how he cried to her. Areyto had long since stopped crying, anyway.
What use was pleading if no one could hear you, and those who could would only mock you and take yet another part of you away?
Like his name.
The magic made sure he couldn’t remember it.
Come.
His master’s command came like an oil slick in the water, slithering slime over his bared skin and pushing him from the water. He shook himself and went, step by step, to the door that was already being unlocked to allow him to leave - but only to go where he was ordered, only to do whatever vile thing his master demanded. The butler on the other side looked through him, saw something else. Saw whatever the master wanted him to see.
As the siren moved through this endless hell, the moon that had shone on him where he slept in the pool shifted behind a cloud. The goddess left him, and his half-formed prayers. It was all lost, everything that did not belong to Guilford Wentworth was gone.
Come, Areyto.
Not his name.
But the name he had been given, and must answer to. The name layered over the song, the lyric he had once been. The piece of the harmony that had belonged to him, just on the tip of his tongue, never coming together.
The melody of his identity had been stolen, replaced with the flat human syllables he went by now. A shrieking off note, a sharp staccato. His master had stolen his name, as surely as he had stolen Areyto’s life.
As surely as Areyto would steal it back.
However small his master had made him, his teeth were still sharp, and his claws were still keen to tear human skin apart. The marks would fade, if he could only keep them from being remade yet again. The power that held him here would crack apart beneath his fury, if the human magician would help him. Her voice held the edge of a song even in flat human words.
Areyto didn’t understand it, yet, but he knew what the song meant even if he didn’t know the melodies.
Hope.
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