#(since at least the doll still comes with her glasses)

[sysig]

Clash of sensibilities (Patreon)

[headfullofdolls]

Getting really disappointed with Mattel’s lack of consistency with Clawdeen’s glasses ngl, especially so early on in the launch ._. Most of the big marketing and promotional shots of the dolls don’t show her glasses (they show up inconsistently in the commercials with stop motion). They weren’t in the animated music video. They’re not even in most of the stock photos for the doll itself. And now the Skulltimate Secrets doll doesn’t have glasses either.

Sure you could say she doesn’t need them all the time and/or also uses contacts, that works as an in-universe explanation. But the glasses are part of her core look in both the live action and the new animated series, and a central enough feature of her core look in the dolls that it shows up in almost all the doll art thus far (she even gets a sporty pair of goggles in the Ghoul Spirit pack). The exception to the doll art so far is Creepover Party, since the doll itself doesn’t come with glasses, which supports that she probably doesn’t need them all the time. But that still doesn’t explain why most of the marketing for Clawdeen’s core doll, her signature look, which does feature glasses, doesn’t show her wearing them.

Unless Mattel thinks it’d be bad for sales.

So it’s fine for supplementary media but not for directly advertising the doll itself? Guess they’re trying to have their cake and eat it too.

[whiskeynwriting]

When You Say My Name

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

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Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Size kink, mask kink, dirty talk, open-ish relationship, kinda cheating?, very brief mention of oral sex (f receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, alcohol consumption

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A/N: Disclaimer - this is written at the point in time before Graves’ betrayal of 141. Also, I hate that bastard. Also also, Ty to @thesleepingmusicneek for beta reading 🥰

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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There once was a time where you were treated that way, like the center of attention, the only girl in the world. He’d keep you close, take you out, buy you drinks and gifts and truly, whatever you wanted. His attention was yours and there was no other woman in the world that could compete with it. Everything you could hope to hear, he’d tell you - you’re perfect, I love you, you’re mine. That was, until about a month ago. Now, all of those privileges have been handed off to whatever woman he deems fit for the night. But that was only supposed to be while he was on leave, not while he was home, and most certainly not in front of your goddamn face.

Easily, tears sting your eyes and a jealous lump forms heavily in your throat. Your veins feel like ice and unpleasant embarrassment creeps through your bones. Out of mere spite, you watch them, heart pounding when you hear Graves greet her with, hey doll, alongside a hug and kiss on the cheek. You thought that was only your nickname; he’d never called another woman that, not in the year you’ve been together. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Phil told you he’d met this woman on his last deployment, and that told you everything you needed to know. You’d assumed with him coming home, you’d spend the evening together, not out at some shitty bar. Still, you came to see him, even though he was acting like he’d rather do anything else than see you. Even off the plane, he greeted you with a simple smile, a half-hug. The only man that approached you with genuine excitement, was Simon.

The hug Ghost gave you lifted your feet from the ground, tight and firm and full of happiness. He’s become a rather close friend as of late; for some reason, you find him easy to talk to. You met when Shadow Company joined 141 on their latest missions, no more than a few months ago now. And since then, you’ve managed to greet each other after every mission, making sure to send the other off when the next trip came around, too. And in between those occasions, Phil would often find the two of you on base together, usually in one of the common rooms. You’d be eating together, or playing pool, sometimes cards. Friendship was the word you often used, but Graves never fully bought it. Slowly but surely, jealousy crept up inside him, and you were more than aware of it.

Right now, though, that nasty, green emotion is consuming you. Your blood boils while you watch him continue to flirt, keeping an arm around her back and a hand securely on her hip. Graves buys her a shot, and then a drink, things he didn’t do for you when you joined him at the bar all but fifteen minutes ago. But then they’re sitting down together and she’s running her hand up his thigh and Christ, you feel like you’re going to be sick. As soon as he approached her, you retreated to the back of the pub, finding the farthest, darkest booth to sulk in. And still, you watch them, torturing yourself.

“All by yourself back here?”

“Fuck,” Jolting, your head snaps up, eyes falling on the bulky figure that is Simon Riley. “Hey, I… yeah.”

“Why’s that?” Casually, he makes himself comfortable, taking the seat across from you with a light sigh. It was something you bonded over, being loners. This type of scene wasn’t his thing, so of course, he came and found you.

Lifting both hands, he sets two glasses on the table, pushing one toward you. “For me?” You ask with a humorous smile, and he nods.

“That fruity thing you like.” Ghost responds before pulling up the edge of his mask to nurse his bourbon. And although you’re in no mood for company, his presence is comforting. Honestly, there’s no one else you’d rather have join you. “Why’re you alone, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart, a name that fell from his lips often. But only for you. Something Graves never liked.

The sentiment behind the name fills you with warmth, alongside the fact that he remembered your drink order. His entire presence prompts a new brew of emotions to swirl inside of you, clashing incredibly with the negativity brought on by Phil.

“Didn’t wanna see any more of that.” Jerking your head in Phil’s direction, you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I, uh…” Ghost looks over as well, taking in the situation. “I’d consider that cheating, if it were me.” He’s honest, he always is.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips; his comment only stirs the embers that were once settling in your gut. “Yeah, well, lucky for him it’s not.”

“What?” Simon scoffs, turning back toward you. You’re not able to see his expressions, not with that balaclava in the way. In fact, you can hardly see any of his features. With his black hood pulled up, that mask on and even those boney gloves covering his fingers, he’s quite hidden. Something you’ve always found alluring about him.

“Yeah…”

“Pardon my prodding, but…” Leaning in, Simon scoffs once again, a type of chuckle bouncing from his lips. “What kind of sense is that?”

Since the very first day you met, Simon had an interest in you. He thought you were gorgeous; a cute, sexy little thing that he wanted to keep close to him. That, on top of his general dislike for Graves, made it easy for him to disapprove of your relationship. And he wasn’t ever too subtle about it, either.

One big, dramatic sigh leaves your mouth, your head tilting back against the booth. “It’s complicated.”

He just shrugs. “Fill me in.” Leaning back, he takes another sip from his glass, watching the way your eyes follow his movements. Ghost allows you to take in this small sight, his scarred skin, his growing stubble, the view not many are given. Intriguing. “Unless, you’d rather I just go…”

“No.” Your response is instant. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just… I don’t want you to think badly of him.”

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks of him.” And you figure, he’s right. Phil isn’t exactly being secretive about this.

“He, well… he asked me for a, um… an open… relationship.” Ghost simply hums, a thoughtful noise as he nods. “He asked for it about a month ago.”

An open relationship, he thinks. Does that mean… she can sleep with other people, too?

“And you agreed to that?”

Another big sigh. “Yeah.”

“But you didn’t want to?” It’s almost like Simon is laying this out for you, trying to get you to see that Graves is just using you. Clearly, this arrangement isn’t fair.

“I… ugh. Yeah. I just didn’t want to cut things off completely, but… it looks like I should’ve just taken the hit. Would’ve been a hell of a lot easier than this.”

“He’s been with other women?” Ghost clarifies, trying to get the full picture. It baffles him, honestly. How could one man be so disloyal? And to you, of all people?

“Yep, quite a few. He tells me almost every time. Claims the honesty is good.”

Simon laughs at this. “Or he’s just clearing his conscience.”

“Exactly.”

A small lull wafts through your conversation, and in this pause, Simon knows what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to ask and absolutely has the balls to ask it. But is it the right time? Would you find his prodding offensive? Genuinely, he does cherish your friendship, but he’s wondering if this is his chance to make it something more.

“And have you?” Simon finally asks, the words coming out gently.

“Hm?”

“Been with anyone?”

The question isn’t exactly shocking. It’s no secret that Simon is interested in you, and with the way the conversation is going, it was only a matter of time before he asked.

“No, it didn’t interest me. I mean, not at first, anyway.” You’re speaking so openly that you don’t even register that you’ve said it before it leaves your mouth. And when it does, your face runs hot, wondering if he caught on to your wording.

“At first?” Of course he caught onto it. Would she be open to it? He wonders enthusiastically, Do I really have a chance of this going my way?

“Yeah, but I’m starting to think…” Fuck it. “Why not?” A dry laugh comes from your throat, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I should just start moving on.”

With excitement stirring inside him, Simon tries his best to suppress the expression on his still-exposed lips, which are now tilting upward into a mischievous grin. This is just what he wants to hear. And now that you’ve given him somewhat of an opening, he thinks he’ll shoot his shot. “Well… you know I’m always here for you.”

“Yeah?” Laughing at his comment, you look up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Would he… would he really do this?

With a wicked smile, Simon squints his eyes at you. Hand wrapped firmly around his glass, those thick fingers slide over the condensation, gaze never parting from your own. “I think you know what it means.”

All too often, all too much, these sinful thoughts have crossed his mind. He’s indulged in them, fantasizing about you every time he got the chance. Thinking about how your perfect ass would look bouncing back against him, lubed up with your velvety heat swallowing him whole. Those pretty lips, what would they look like with your cheeks bulging, throat desperately trying to accommodate him? The way you sway your hips makes him want to pin you down, shove himself inside just to watch his dick press against your belly.

Ghost’s offer, or what seems to be an offer, is shocking to you. Finally, you think; a blatant display of his interest. You were starting to think he’d never make a move.

With one last glance over at Phil, you make an easy decision. Seeing him so blatantly disregard not only you, but your entire relationship, has you fuming. And feeling this much pain makes you want to hurt him back. What better way to do that than with Simon? The same man Graves has been jealous of, the same man you’ve wanted for months.

With a flirtatious smirk, you rest your elbows on the table, leaning your weight onto them. The circumstance has butterflies swarming your stomach, but there isn’t a single ounce of hesitancy inside. Just pure, simple excitement.

“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Now, you need to get the full picture. The last thing you want is to make an even bigger fool of yourself tonight by assuming things.

“I want you.” Simon returns easily. “And you know it, too.”

Playing coy, you shrug, sitting back in your seat. “I don’t know anything. You’ve never made a move.” And your teasing prompts a deep breath from him.

“Well, if I knew about this situation a little sooner, I might’ve.” Eyeing you up and down, Simon’s gaze is slow, saturating your body with his attention. “The late nights we’ve had, those moments on the couch, those sweet hugs every time I come home…”

“I like seeing you come home.” It’s hard to play dumb when you so desperately want him too.

“I wanna come home to you.”

Finally, he’s won, he’s gotten in the last word. Because now, you’re simply stunned. Words escape you, your lips parting in shock. From the way he’s phrasing it, Simon isn’t looking for a simple hookup. He’s interested in you.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ghost then offers, downing the rest of his drink. “I’m gonna head out for a smoke. Whether or not you choose to follow me, is your choice.”

Standing, he steps toward the door, only a few feet from where you’re both seated in the back. But before he leaves, he glances down at you, gently tapping your chin with his thumb. “You know what I want.”

He’s giving you a chance to think this over, to really decide what you want. Because to him, this means more than sex, and you know that.

“Didn’t even have a chance to light a cig.” Simon chuckles, watching you approach him through the dark.

When you find him, he’s leaning up against the bar’s outer wall, cigarette in hand. And when he leans upright, standing to his full height again, you’re mesmerized. Alluring doesn’t do this man justice.

With a small sigh, Ghost watches you step into his space, one gloved hand lifting to your face. He cups it then, swipes his thumb over the bone of your cheek. And his touch feels invigorating on your skin.

“You gonna tell me what you want?”

Offering a small nod, you keep his gaze, something he likes. “You.”

And this time, it’s a gravely sigh, a firm breath as he holds your face with both hands. Easily, smoothly, he’s bringing himself down to you, watching as you rise to the tips of your toes to meet him. You grab onto his forearms, feeling his breath against your face, his lips against your own. And it’s everything you imagined it would be. His kiss is firm and determined; he tastes like betrayal and excitement, like an antidote mixed with poison.

Already, he’s shoving his tongue past your lips and into your mouth, moaning quietly when you reciprocate the action. He doesn’t have an ounce of restraint in him, not anymore, not when you’re acting like this. The eagerness he exudes is so easily returned, like the two of you have been waiting for this moment. And honestly, you don’t know why you haven’t thought about this before. You’re in an open relationship and you haven’t even considered fucking Ghost?

Soft groans vibrate against your mouth before he’s whispering, “C’mere.”

To your delight, he pulls you further in, dropping his hands from your face to your waist. Your height difference prompts him to dive even further down, mouthing at you with an unexpected amount of desire. It fills your insides with excitement, with lust, your nerves sizzling as you continue to chase his touch. And on his end, Simon can barely catch his fucking breath. He’s been waiting for this, fucking dreaming of this. Being this close to you has his heart pounding, his adrenaline rushing.

Naturally, your hands move from his arms to his neck, holding him in the way you’ve been wanting to for so many months. And you think now, Graves finally has something to be jealous of.

“You want me?” Simon asks again, smile growing against your lips. Boldly, those broad palms find your ass, squeezing harshly.

There hasn’t been a single goddamn day in your relationship with Graves where you felt this good, this desired, this genuinely wanted. The way Simon kisses you is dizzying and he tastes like fucking nirvana. Everything about this man is a turn on, from his strength and power to the raw masculinity you so obviously drool over. You’ve longed for this, dreamt about this, what it would feel like to kiss him, touch him, fuck him.

“Yes, yeah.” Your nod is rapid, fingers petting along that sharp jawline.

“I want you; I want you, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling against your lips, moaning wantonly when your tongue makes its way into his mouth. Eagerly, he returns the sentiment, running the wet muscle over your own in slow, heated strokes. “I want you now.”

Regardless of his wording, you don’t expect him to pull you back the way he does, yanking you into the bar’s side alley. Pushing you into the cold, brick wall, Simon presses himself to your back, whispering gruffly into your ear, “That too rough for you?”

Already, he’s rubbing himself against your ass, grinding himself over your taught jeans and wrapping both arms around your belly. Those sinfully sweet lips then find a home on your neck, along your jaw. Everything is moving so fast that it has your heart racing, blood rushing, arousal flooding your system and burning hot between your legs.

Before you can respond, he’s reaching up with both hands, fondling you over your shirt. And the unexpected action has a shiver running throughout the entirety of your body, feeling those broad palms fist your breasts, running his thumbs over the nipples, groping them with overt enthusiasm.

“Perfect fucking tits…”

“No,” Meeting his actions, you soon form a rhythm, swaying your hips back against him. “I like, like when you’re rough.” It’s almost embarrassing, the way you stutter. But you can’t find it in you to care, not when he groans with approval against the base of your neck.

Even through his jeans, you can feel him, hanging thick and heavy between his legs. Continually, he ruts his crotch against your ass, holding you close while breathing humid breaths down your neck and back.

“Fuck… you already feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Ghost chuckles, grabbing onto your hips. “I can make you feel better.”

“Please.” It’s taking everything in you to not reach behind and pull off his mask, to not run your fingers through his hair and tug on the strands.

“Here?” He clarifies, more than willing. And you’ve never done anything close to this but you’ve also never been more excited in your entire goddamn life.

“Yeah,” Nodding, you gulp, feeling dizzy from his affection. “Yes, baby.”

Drunk on him and maybe your few drinks, you’re still sober enough to know you won’t regret any of this. Whether it’s a one-time thing or the start of something more, you won’t regret this.

“Mm…” Using both hands, he cups you, kneading the covered flesh of your backside with slow, firm grabs. He’s eyed you up and down so many times before tonight, imagining what it’d be like to grab you like this. But even through his unwavering lust, he has to be honest. “Haven’t got a condom, love.” It comes out as a mumble, the only time you’ve ever heard Ghost become hesitant.

“I didn’t want one.” It comes alongside a small laugh, a cheeky grin he can just barely see.

Instantly, he’s releasing a breath, moving spit-slick lips to your cheek for a quick kiss. “Perfect girl.” With a pleasant smile of his own, he drops his chin to your shoulder, fingers moving to undo your jeans. And the small ounce of praise has your insides flaming. “My girl.”

His, his.

Keeping his chin against your shoulder, he glances down, sighing when he pushes your jeans past the swell of your backside. Another squeeze, eyes glued to the sight of your bare skin, just as soft and smooth as he’d always imagined. Briefly, he wants to drop to his knees, kiss the sweet flesh he’s only gotten small teases of, bite into it, mark it. But he doesn’t have time for that, not when you’re out in public like this.

Unzipping his fly and popping the button on his pants is quick work, and though the lull is brief, your anticipation continues to grow evermore. You can feel the moment he’s free, resting himself between your cheeks. He’s hot to the touch, and noticeably throbbing.

“Baby…” Slowly, he slides, up and down between your cheeks. A wet trail quickly forms, his prespend smearing across your lower back.

“You want me?” He says it while slithering a hand around to your front, hooking two fingers into your panties so he can pull them down. Forgoing his aggressive nature for this moment, for you, two fingers then find your throbbing nerves, his touch sweet and delicate.

“Yes.”

“Need you to say it, love.” His entire body is pressed against your back, keeping you warm and safe. “Need you to tell me.”

Thick fingers toy with your entrance, dipping inside to get a small taste of your wetness, and it feels like fireworks are going off inside your stomach. He then drags both digits up to your clit, circling it while kissing your neck.

“I want you,” Lolling your head back onto his shoulder, you’re surprised at how quickly he then moves. Instantly, he’s retracting his hand and pumping himself against your ass, using the other to spread you open.

“Say it again.” Ghost requests, pressing himself against your thin skin, your pink lips.

“I want you.”

With his swollen tip spreading you open from behind, he pushes forward, groaning openly at your welcoming warmth. Every inch is intimidating, the push of his hips forcing you to accommodate him. Which is easy, especially when he licks up your neck, kissing your jawline and cheek. It’s sloppy, the way he mouths at you, the passion he gives you.

“Simon,” Both palms help to steady yourself against the wall as he continues, shoving himself inside inch by devastating inch. Christ, you can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have him in your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” A forced breath, like the wind had just been knocked from his lungs. It’s only released when he’s entirely inside, pelvis flush with your ass. “Christ, love when you say my name.”

Both of those strong arms then wrap themselves around your center, keeping you entirely against him. Almost naturally, you’re dropping a hand, cupping the space between your legs. You can’t help it, you just want to feel him, your fingertips caressing his base, his scrotum. And that has him losing his goddamn mind, throbbing against your walls in return. Nosing gently over your head, he groans - hums, the simple action showing him just how much you adore this.

Running a hand down your outer thigh, Ghost begins to move, his actions slow but firm. And every drag lights your insides on fire; it’s such an adrenaline rush to finally have him inside.

“How can that bastard ignore you like that?” Simon mumbles, more so to himself than anything else. “Look so fucking sexy in this… perfect body, in these tight little jeans.”

“Baby…” His thrusts are becoming quicker, harder, working himself up to the breaking point that’s soon to come. But not too fast, he wants to make this last.

“Been wanting to feel you since Graves brought you to base.” Ghost suddenly admits, the smack of his pelvis against your skin beginning to radiate into the night.

The words he’s using are truly a force to be reckoned with, every single syllable melting you to absolute putty at his feet. He sounds so serious and genuine, so dominant, so possessive. This is everything you’ve wanted.

Breathless, you look back at him, an adoring smirk crossing your face. “Really?”

“Fuck, yes.” Nipping aggressively at your neck, he moans, Ghost fucking moans.

“You should’ve said something earlier then.”

And at that comment, you think back to Phil. Should you really be doing this? You know it will upset him; but whether or not he has a right to be upset has yet to be determined.

“Yeah? Would you have chosen me instead?” Bringing you back to the present is that gravelly voice, deep and beautifully accented.

Yeah… fuck Graves, and fuck that relationship.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” Simon asks again, pleasantly surprised by your answer.

“Fuck yes.” Reaching back, you find his head, hand sliding down the nape of his neck. You need to hold onto him, somehow, you need to feel more of him.

Honestly, you would have. And you don’t care if that makes you a shitty person or a shitty girlfriend; you gave your all to Phil and he took it for granted.

“You really mean that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, baby. I’m so happy you want me.” Forcing yourself back against him, you bounce off his pelvis, driving him deeper inside.

“Christ,” Dropping his head, his face falls to your bare shoulder, mouthing at you again and again.

Laughing, you chastise him gently. “You’re gonna leave a mark.”

“Want to.” Comes his returned mumble, hands securing themselves to your hips. “Fuck.”

It’s like he can’t even see straight; feeling the gorgeous woman that you are rolling your hips back against him. Asking for more, pulling him in for more.

In the middle of the night, half naked in a fucking backalley, you feel so incredibly exposed; but Ghost makes it feel like you’ve been doing this together all your lives. He touches you like he knows you, like he’s done it a million times. It’s comforting, his presence exuding a warm sense of safety.

Rolling your hips backward, your brows furrow, soft moans continuing to escape you. Images of Simon’s fully naked body suddenly begin to run rampant in your mind, wishing so desperately to experience more of him. His muscles and scars, the light blonde hair leading down to his pelvis, his broad back and wide hands. You want to touch every inch of him, hold him, feel him.

Christ, did you pick the wrong man when you met them. Simon feels so incredibly different than Graves; veinier, thicker. Every inch forces you open, spreads your legs just a bit wider, makes your whines just a little bit higher. It hurts so good and you can’t help but cry out for him.

“Oh… I love that.” Simon admits, slowing to a harsh grind against your ass.

“Baby,”

“You like how that feels?” Pulling out only about an inch or so, he shoves himself back in, harsh but not aggressive.

Simon’s body reacts so openly to your own, his lungs shivering with every breath just from the feeling, the sensation of your warmth. And every movement creates a delicious force of friction between your bodies, heat building, arousal peaking.

“Give me control,” He rumbles deeply into your ear, lips briefly brushing by. “Let me show you how good it can be.”

You can smell the bourbon on his breath, can feel the way he grabs for your hips and ass. And at that moment, you fully give in, halting your sultry motions and letting him do whatever the fuck he wants.

“Keep holding onto me like that,” He requests, feeling your nails dig into the skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, it turns me on.”

“Simon, fuck I, I can’t…”

“Can't what, sweetheart?” He’s kissing all over your face, your cheek and chin and jaw, sloppy movements to match his increasingly erratic thrusts.

“Can’t believe I didn’t choose you.”

And that shoots a surge of energy through his bones, his thrusts now the product of his unwavering strength. It forces you to shriek, to cry out for him and release the most beautifully whorish sound Simon’s ever heard in his entire life. He fucks into you relentlessly, one arm sliding up to grope your chest again.

“We’re not being very subtle.” Choking out the words, you huff, feeling him punch against your most delicate spot.

“Don’t give a damn.” Comes his mumbled response, mouthing at your neck. “You’re mine, and I want Graves to see.”

“Really, baby?” Your breaths are rapid and heavy, lightheaded from everything you’re experiencing.

“Unless you tell me no, unless I hear otherwise, you’re mine.”

Dipping a hand down, he finds your precious little bud, rubbing firm circles into it. Immediately, your hips jerk beneath his touch, gasps floating from your throat.

“Look how responsive you are,” Nuzzling into your cheek, he kisses it. “Pretty little lover.”

“Baby,” Said alongside a breathless smile, you open your eyes, wishing to see his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He feels so warm around you, inside you, keeping you beneath the sturdy barricade of his arms. You want to be his, more than anything in this moment.

“How could any man stray away from you?” He wonders aloud. “Perfect fucking cunt, gorgeous goddamn face.”

Repeatedly, he sinks in to the hilt, bouncing his hips back and forth with easy sways, slapping himself against the seam of your slippery cunt. He wants more than anything to feel your body, your bare skin, have you completely exposed to him. And he’s promising himself that he’ll make that happen.

“Christ, babe,” Huffing out a flurry of rapid breaths, he admits, “I’m close.”

“Baby, fuck.” A whimper slips from your mouth, eyes shutting firmly. You can feel the way he pulses against your walls, can feel the stutter in his hips.

The heat of euphoria curls tightly in his abdomen, the combination of arousal and possession pushing him over the edge. It’s fierce, powerful, legs shaking and breath punching from his chest. But still, he remembers to pull out, free hand shoving your jacket up while the other fists himself. Hot spurts shoot over your lower back, trickling down your ass. It’s sticky and wet but it turns you on more than anything, feeling him cum on you like this.

“Simon,” Arching your back for him, you listen to his ragged breaths, feeling how rapidly he pumps his shaft.

“Fuck me,” Ghost finally speaks, slowing his movements and taking a look at the mess he’s made. “Fuck me…”

Leaning further in, he sighs, kissing the back of your neck while tucking himself away. He’s careful to not get any of his own spend on his hoodie, but when he pulls away, realizes he got some on your jacket by accident.

“Shit, sorry about that.”

“Huh?” Turning around, you finally face him, blissed out expressions taking in the other’s. Briefly, he smiles, until he explains, “Got a little bit on your jacket.”

Surprisingly, you huff a sarcastic laugh, slipping your arms from the material and dropping it to the ground. “It was Phil’s, anyways.”

“Well shit,” Ghost exclaims, picking it up again. “Would've gotten a lot more on it if I’d known that.” All you do is roll your eyes, with the slightest smirk. “Turn around.”

He nods in your direction, watching you follow his request. Using the jacket he cleans his cum off your back, wiping it away before discarding the clothing once again. And then Ghost is pressing himself against your back, kissing your neck while pulling up your pants. He zips them, buttons them, feeling your cheeks plump with a grin.

“Si?”

“Yeah, love?”

Turning around in his hold, you release a wavering breath, hands sliding up his forearms. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Your voice is soft and quiet, hesitant. “I know it’s difficult, when you’re on leave…”

“Not for me.” Instantly, you give him a look of apprehension. But he just shrugs. “Don’t really fancy the barracks bunnies we get. And with the looks of you…” Reaching out, he cups your chin, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks. “Pretty thing you are… I won’t have a problem being loyal.”

Suddenly, he’s removing himself from you, sliding his arms from the confines of his black hoodie. “Wanna head back to the bar?” He asks while shuffling out of the sleeves, finally taking it off his body. “Or back to base?”

“I don’t really wanna go back in there…” Your response is incredibly timid, not wanting to disappoint him if he wants to stay out.

“Perfect.” If he hasn’t made it clear, Simon isn’t exactly a people person. And then, to your dismay, he pulls down his mask, hiding that gorgeous grin. “Here, love. It’s chilly out.”

He’s handing you his hoodie, the black one he was just wearing. And when you take it in your hands, you realize it has his rank and last name on the back.

“Really?” You’ve never had anything like this, Graves never wanted you to wear anything with his name on it.

“Put it on, babe.” He nods once, cupping your jaw and giving your cheek a kiss through the cloth of his mask. “Keep it.”

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Summary: After losing Clint, your marriage and family begins to fall apart. Will Natasha be able to go back to what you once were?

A/N: This is going to be four chapters, but most of it is written. It’s a mix of angst, hurt and comfort. Obvious warning, there’s a major character death. Natasha and R have a daughter.

Time was unforgiving.

It had been six months since you lost Clint. Two since you asked Natasha to move out.

Four hours of sleep was the most you could get each night. 

Time heals everything, people say.

Then, how come, the more time passed, the worse you felt?

Thoughts like these invade your mind, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. Like now, when you’re waiting for your daughter’s school day to be over. Leaning over your black Mercedes, you wish that your injured leg could be less of a bother and instead of driving, you could walk to pick up Anya and get distracted by the sights of the city.

The school bell rings and the quiet classrooms are full of murmurs, books stored away and steps walking -some rushing eagerly- to the exit.

Impossible to miss, Anya’s red waves are the first thing you spot. Raising a hand, she says goodbye to her friends and walks your way. 

“Hi, darling” you sigh against her head. 

She’s getting taller and maybe next year she won’t let you hug her. Maybe she’ll even want to take the bus while you anxiously wait for her return home. But now, she’s still a sweet child and she still lets you run your hands through her hair. 

“How was Debate Club?” it’s the first thing you ask, because she’d been preparing relentlessly to beat the other team. 

“We won, obviously”

“We should celebrate” a voice joins the conversation. You’re so startled that you drop the car keys.

“Mom!” Anya says, wrapping her arms around Natasha.

It makes you happy that she’s not resentful even after everything that happened. That she can love so unconditionally.

She didn’t get that from you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt” Natasha apologizes, finally looking at you. There’s a weak smile on your face, what else can you do? “I was thinking we could go shopping for that new game you wanted?”

“Can we please, Momma?” Anya turns to you.

“Sure. Have fun. But don’t spoil your appetite. We’re having lasagna” 

“Mom, our favorite” Anya nudges the Russian and you look away.

“I’ll have her home by 6” Natasha saves you the embarrassment of being forced to invite her.

“Have fun” you wave goodbye, heart beating fast.

Breaking the speed limit, you rush home. But the tears start running long before you’re parked.

You look at your sad reflection in the rearview mirror.

Natasha looks better than the last time you saw each other.

Maybe all she needed was to be away from you, to be happy again.

--

Two glasses of wine later, you’re curled up on the sofa watching your favorite comfort show and feeling better. 

“What’s up, Buck?” you answer at the second ring of your phone. 

“Are you ok?”

You look at the half empty glass of wine and decide that no, you’re most definitely not ok.

“Sure, why you ask?”

“I just saw her driving with Anya” 

“Mhm” you look at the clock. 5:55 PM. She’s trying to be a responsible parent, at least. “Yeah, she showed up at school today. It’s good that they spent time together”

“Want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t want you two fighting in my front yard. Thanks, though”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, ok? And if you feel like it, we can go to that Broadway show on Saturday. I got us tickets”

“Thanks, Buck” 

“Ok, she’s parking outside now”

“You followed them all the way here?” you jump out of the couch, looking out the window.

“What? I was worried!” 

“Sometimes I think it’s not so great that you live a few blocks away, you weirdo”

“But then I bring coffee and scones and you change your mind” 

“Yeap”

“See ya, doll”

“Bye, creep”

“Oh, come on!”

You let out a laugh at his protest. Wanda and Yelena have been texting you, so you scroll, smiling at the silly pictures of Fanny or the videos of Tommy and Billy doing their crazy science experiments. 

“Hi, Ma” Anya rushes past you. “Gonna change for dinner”

“Mmkay” you nod, texting Bucky to make sure he’s actually back home, and not slashing Natasha’s tires. 

“So…” 

“Nat, jeez” you drop the phone, not even aware that she is still here. She looks at you across the kitchen island. 

Don’t think how sad it is that she looks out of place here, where it used to be home.

Don’t cry in front of her.

Don’t.

“Sorry, I’ll say goodbye and leave” 

“Anya, your mom’s leaving” you busy yourself in the kitchen, looking away.

“So soon?” the girl peeks around, pouting. “We haven’t even played the game yet”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you give up, unable to say no to your daughter. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m always making extra anyways”

Because you were used to cooking dinner for three. 

Anya is happy to set the table, but you sit next to your daughter, leaving Natasha in front of her. You try to stay focused on Anya and school: the debate club, sports activities, a month in Europe for the best students. 

“Mom, do you think I can reach out to aunt Carol? I have some Astronomy questions”

Natasha immediately looks at you, but you’re hyper focused on the bottle of wine and pouring the last of it until your glass is filled to the rim.

“Uh, she’s not... I’m not sure where Danvers is, sweetheart. She left Earth a while back” 

“Oh, ok” the girl nods, looking at you with a frown. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting? What did Doctor Cho say?”

Crap.

“What’s wrong, det…?” Natasha asks, looking at you. The pet name almost rolled off her tongue.

Everything. Everything is wrong, Natasha. 

“That old injury from our outlaw days. Doctor Cho gave me some pain killers. But I don’t think I’ll take them, they make me too sleepy”

“We’ll do the dishes” Natasha jumps in. “Don’t worry about it” 

“Thanks”

The dishes are the least of your worries, but it’s still a nice gesture.

Maybe when she’s finally ready to ask you to divorce her, you’ll be able to coparent. 

“Here, let me” she asks as you approach with the empty glass of wine. “Did Doctor Cho say anything else?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter, watching as she washes the dishes.

“She said surgery might make the pain go away. Actually, there’s a 90% chance it will work. But Anya’s got school and I’d have to do bed rest for at least five weeks. Maybe during winter break” 

“I can take care of her. Drive her to school or cook dinner or…”

“You’re a terrible cook” you remind her. It’s meant to be a joke, but also a way to make her stop.

You don’t want to be a burden for someone who doesn’t want you anymore.

“Wanda could teach me” 

“She’s too busy making sure the twins aren’t building a nuclear weapon in the garage” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, almost afraid of your answer.

“Can you take her to school tomorrow?” you finally say, without providing further details.

The truth is, you’ll probably cry until you fall asleep, because you miss Natasha and this is the first time you’ve seen her in two months. 

And it would be better if you could sleep in, make an appointment with your therapist and then find a way to look composed by the time you have to pick your daughter from school. 

“Absolutely” 

“Thank you” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N” 

The way she says your name makes you want to scream. 

--

Natasha’s long gone, Anya sleeping peacefully back in her room.

You’re looking at the ceiling, tears rolling down your face and soaking your pillow.

You miss her so damn much. You love her so much.

And you also hate her. And you hate yourself for loving her.

There’s a soft knock at your door. You know it’s not Anya because she would have turned on the hallway light.

“Hey, weirdo” you look at Bucky from across the room, smiling sadly. He approaches you and wraps you in his arms. You sob against his chest, feeling like the sadness will last forever.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. Let it all out. I’m here”

You don’t know when you fall asleep.

--

A lot has changed in such a short time, but by now, Anya is used to the sight of her uncle Bucky, rotating between the few breakfast foods he can make without burning everything.

“You read my mind” Anya watches as he makes blueberry pancakes.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” he mumbles, impressed at how silent she was.

“No, because my moms are spies and so is my uncle and my other aunt and basically half my family”

“Smart ass,” he chuckles. “Come on, eat your food before it gets cold”

“Did mom eat anything yet?” Anya sits on a stool, eating on the kitchen counter.

“Your mom’s asleep” Bucky says. In fact, you cried, had a panic attack, a couple of nightmares, woke up to drink some water and then fell asleep at 4 AM. 

Basically, the usual for the past two months.

He’s so caught in his thoughts that he forgets to flip the last pancake. A knock on the front door snaps him back to reality.

“Can you turn off the stove? And pack your bag, we’re leaving in five…” Bucky yells over, opening the door without looking through the peephole first. He’s surprised to find Natasha on the other side “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up my daughter” 

“Does Y/N know?” He's holding on to the door so hard that the wood cracks.

“She asked me to drive Anya to school”

“Ok, I’m ready” Anya announces, aware that her mother and uncle aren’t on the best terms. She walks between them to make sure they won’t punch each other. “Bye, uncle, thanks for breakfast” 

“Have a good day, sweetheart. See you Saturday”

“Right, for that musical, Beaglejuice”

“Shut up” he chuckles, kissing her forehead. Anya leans forward and hugs him goodbye.

Natasha is silent for most of the ride. Anya is looking out the window, uncertain of her mother’s mood. Maybe not saying anything is safer.

Three blocks away from school and Natasha hears herself blurting out what’s been on her mind this whole time.

“Does Barnes stay over a lot?”

“I guess” Anya mutters, still looking out the window.

“Well, do you know…”

The girl has enough, turning around to face her mother. There’s nothing but resentment in her eyes as she tells Natasha everything.

“Mom cries herself to sleep every night. Ever since you moved out, it's been hard for her to get up in the morning and act normal, let alone cook breakfast. So yeah, uncle Bucky is around all the time, just to make sure she’s at the very least alive. You’d know if you still cared about us” 

“Anya…”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way, thanks for the ride” she mumbles, opening the door and rushing away. Natasha is stuck in traffic, so all she can do is watch her daughter from the car.

Just when she was starting to make things right, she fucks up again.

--

“Thanks for breakfast” you say, mouth full of pancakes.

“More like lunch” Bucky corrects.

You nod, reaching for the maple syrup. 

“So, why’d you ask Natasha to drive Anya to school?” 

“Is that why my door is almost broken in half?” 

“I’ll fix it”

“You better” you mumble. He is still staring and you shrug your shoulders. “Just experimenting how co-parenting is gonna be when we officially divorce”

“So, you are asking her to divorce you?” 

“She’s gonna ask me. Sooner or later” you keep your head down, playing with your food. You’re not hungry anymore.

“All things considered, the ball is in your court”

“Buck” you plead, dropping the fork.

“I’m just saying” he approaches your side. “You’ll only be able to heal once you know what you both want. But running away won’t help”

“You sound like my therapist”

“But does she cook you breakfast?”

“For what she’s charging me, she should, actually” both of you laugh. And damn it, you know he’s right. “Thank you, for worrying about me. And for taking care of us these past few months. I’m sorry I’m such a mess”

As if on cue, tears start streaming down your face. Bucky hugs you, kissing your head.

“It’s ok”

“I know you hate it when people cry, I’m sorry” 

“Yeah, but I hate it a little bit more when you’re the one crying”

--

Luckily for your therapist, you’re all cried out by the time you reach her office. Instead, you discuss how it would be better to approach Natasha, who has always struggled with communication around difficult topics.

“I’m very happy with this session. We’ve made great progress” Doctor Thompson says and you put your fist forward.

“Fist bump” you encourage her.

“I’ll get my license taken away if we ever do this again” 

For the first time in months, you leave her office feeling a little bit lighter. 

Until you check your phone. 10 missed calls from Natasha.

“Nat?” you answer as she calls again.

“Is Anya with you?”

“I was about to pick her up from school” there’s a pause. “You did drive her to school, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot” she shoots back.

“Well, I’m very confused because she’s only about to end her last class. Why would she be anywhere else, then?” you retort.

“Just meet me back home, ok?” she pleads.

“Fine”

She’s pacing on the sidewalk as you park.

“Care to explain?”

“The school called me an hour ago. She sneaked out after recess” 

“Let’s just track her phone” 

“It’s off”

“Well, fuck” you run your hand through your hair. “Did she say anything to you this morning? Did she seem upset?”

Natasha looks away, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I asked her if Barnes was staying over often”

“Natasha, for fuck’s sake” you sigh, turning away from her. 

Don’t shout. You won’t solve anything by screaming at Natasha.

Your daughter is missing because your wife can’t keep her jealousy to herself. So fuck it.

“If you want to know anything, you ask me, Natasha, do you understand? You don’t go questioning our 13 year old daughter, who, by the way, has been through enough shit lately. I’m trying to protect her and you’re here implying I’m sleeping with the only friend who isn’t tired of me being a mess. Which, for the record, I’m not. And would never. Unlike you, I’m not going around fucking people outside my marriage because I’m having a hard time”

“I don’t know how to get close to you, Y/N. You pushed me out ever since…”

“No! You don’t get to put this on me. I tried for months. I tried everything. And you scoffed and ignored and stood me up. I gave up the moment I found you in bed with Carol” 

Your voice breaks at the last part. That memory has been buried for so long; you want it to stay hidden, forever. 

It doesn’t matter. You need to find Anya.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Buck” 

“I’m here. I’ll help you find her” 

“I’ll find my daughter alone, thank you” you walk past her, waiting impatiently for your friend to pick up.

“She’s my daughter too”

“You sure as hell haven’t acted like her mother in a long time, Natalia” 

You walk away, your back turned to her. 

“Buck” you say, voice trembling.

“I know. She’s at the Met. Hasn’t left. I’m outside, just in case”

“How did you…?” 

“I’m sorry. I was hoping I could convince her to come back before you found out she sneaked out of class”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can” 

--

Again, those soft waves of red are the first thing you spot in the room. Her blue eyes are fixed on Degas and his Dance Class.

“Hey, kiddo” you stand next to her, understanding immediately why she’s looking at this painting. “We still have your ballerina shoes somewhere in a box. Your mom loved going to your recitals” 

“I’m sorry for leaving school” 

“I played hooky a couple of times. It’s part of life. I just want to make sure you’re ok” 

“She doesn’t care if you’re able to get up in the morning but gets jealous because someone is taking care of us” 

You sigh. Anya has Natasha’s heart, after all. She loves and protects fiercely.

“That’s not exactly true. Come with me” your daughter takes your hand as you leave the museum. 

Central Park is still looking beautiful, even as fall approaches. Anya plops down on a bench and you take a seat next to her. A small groan leaves your lips. This damn leg.

“You know your mother was raised to be an assassin. The Red Room taught her that love was a weakness. And that she was incapable of having a family or people that cared about her. Even after all these years, insecurity can get the best of Nat sometimes”

“Why can’t we just… go back to what we used to be?” she mumbles, a tear rolling down her face.

“Oh, sweetheart” you hold her against your chest. “I want nothing more in this world” 

“I miss her”

“Me too, Anya”

“It’s like we lost her the day uncle Clint died” she sobs.

“But she’s still here. And she still needs you, my sweet girl. I’m not saying you should forgive her right this second. But don’t build a wall around yourself, please”

“Ok” 

“You know I lost my mom when I was 15. And a lot of that time I spent it angry at her for staying with a man that wasn’t good to us. But once she was gone, all I wished was that I had made her life a little easier”

“I’m sorry” 

“It’s ok. I’m glad I’m here, to make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did. We’re gonna be alright, I promise” 

“I love you”

“Love you too, kiddo” you keep her in your arms for as long as you can, but a light rain begins to fall. “Come on, now. Bucky’s been waiting for us”

“I know. I saw him following me on the bus here”

“My God, I don’t know which one of you is scarier” 

Anya giggles, and you take her hand. 

Even between all of this mess, she’s the one thing that makes everything worth it. 

--

Anya was the one that texted her mother, apologizing and letting her know she was ok.

You didn’t reply to Natasha’s text. “I’m sorry” isn’t enough sometimes.

After pizza and an intense game of Jenga with Anya and Bucky, you call it a night.

You know what you’ll dream of tonight, but you’re too tired to care.

[brooke0297]

Make You Feel My Love (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized Female Reader

Summary: “I will tell you everyday how much I love you and how perfect you are to me. If you can’t believe it for yourself, I’ll believe it for both of us.” When the reader is having trouble loving herself, Bucky tries to remind her.

Warnings: Angsty beginning with happy ending; talk about gaining weight/slightly negative body talk; slight allusions to smut (blink and you'll miss them); mentions of past injury (gsw, passing out).

Author's Note: For me, being plus sized can be great and sometimes not so great. So I wrote this story for me and I hope that you like it. Comments and reblogs always appreciated!

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

“I’m not going!”

Bucky leaned his head against the door to the bathroom and sighed.

“Doll, please come out so we can talk?”

“No! Bucky I’m not going so can you please leave?”

“Baby, please I just want to talk to you.”

Bucky waited, and he could feel his heart cracking when he heard the muffled sniffles coming from the bathroom. He glanced over to the doorway into his room and shook his head at Steve and Wanda, who were peering into the room. They slowly backed away as he continued to knock on the bathroom door. 

There was a September Foundation gala happening in just over four hours and the compound was buzzing with preparations. Tony had been at the tower all week, waltzing around and telling a team of interns and designers to move decorations three inches to the left (with Pepper following close behind to move them back to their proper place). The team was in full glam mode with stylists and makeup artists running from room to room.

Which is why when he’d heard the slam of the door to Y/N’s room and a personal stylist huffing angrily down the corridor, he had poked his head into her room to see what the matter was. Only to catch the tail of her robe disappearing into her bathroom. He’d knocked, only to be denied entry with a firm refusal to open the door. Which is where he was now, standing barefoot in front of her bathroom begging her to let him in.

“Can you at least tell me if you need me to track down that stylist and put the fear of God in them?” he tried.

“Please don’t, Bucky.” Y/N whimpered and Bucky sobered immediately. 

“Baby, please let me in because I’m starting to panic and I will break down this door if I have to. Especially if someone hurt you.” he said gravely.

“No one hurt me, Buck! Please I just need you to leave me alone!” she insisted. Bucky sighed, turning from the door to sit beside it. He was trying really hard to not let the rejection sting, but there was a part of him deep down that was still bothered.

He and Y/N had been together just a little over 8 months. She had started working at the compound a few weeks after he’d joined the Avengers as an analyst and had become an integral part of the team. He’d never known mission briefings to be as interesting as they were once Y/N had come aboard. They had flirted, a glimmer of the old Bucky breaking through the trauma and insecurities, and he’d been toying with the idea of asking her to dinner.

But then a mission in Versailles threw a wrench in the plans. It was supposed to be a quick in and out reconnaissance mission: Steve and Nat with Bucky for backup. But Y/N needed to also come to decrypt the files Nat was retrieving from the museum. Nat was on lookout, but the guards were too quick and before she could take them all out and before he had reached the threshold of the office, one had gotten off a shot. Dr. Cho had told them later that a millimeter closer and it would have severed Y/N’s carotid. Instead it had fractured her collar bone and sent her careening into the window behind her, shattering the glass. Bucky had felt a glimmer of the old soldier, long dormant since Shuri’s reprogramming had been successful, take over and the remaining guards were dead before they could draw another breath. Steve ordered him to provide cover as the four of them escaped and flew home as fast as they could. All Bucky remembered from that night was holding Y/N’s hand as she sobbed in pain and whispering assurances in her ear until she passed out from the pain and blood loss.

He hadn’t left her side the two days she was in the med bay. When she woke up after surgery, he was there. He had tried to leave her once, to give her space, but she had already tugged him closer and pulled his lips down to meet hers in a gentle but passionate kiss.

“Sorry it took me so long, but getting shot will do that,” she’d murmured. He’d laughed and kissed her again. And he hadn’t stopped for 8 months.

Now though, he worried that something had happened. Maybe she had finally realized the Soldier and his actions were too much to excuse and she couldn’t bring herself to break it off gently? Maybe she’d found someone with less baggage?

“Y/N. I just…I just need you to know how much I love you. You are the most important thing in the world to me and your happiness is priority number one for me. I…I would not be alive now if it wasn’t for you and you are the reason that I wake up in the morning.”

He heard some shuffling and then he could feel her body lean against the door. He got up and rested his head against where he knew hers would rest.

“I love you too, Bucky.” she whispered. Bucky felt the hole in his heart mend itself and he sighed in relief.

“Baby, I know you might not want to talk about it and if you really don’t want to go tonight, I will respect that. But I really do need you to open the door. Please, because I never want you to feel like you have to shut me out. We’re partners and when something bothers you, it bothers me.”

“I know Buck. It just…ugh I hate this feeling!” she groaned. She sniffled again and Bucky waited.

“My dress doesn’t fit.” she whispered. Bucky felt his heart skip and he sighed in defeat.

Y/N was plus sized. She was a beautiful, confident woman who embraced her curves and never let archaic societal expectations get in the way of loving herself. Bucky was enamored with her confidence and considered her the sexiest woman he’d ever met. But there were days where clothes fit tighter or sitting in a theater was uncomfortable, and Y/N was reminded that the world was not created for people who looked like her. Bucky would try to listen to what she needed in the moment: space, righteous anger, ect. And he was always sure to worship her body when they were alone. He loved all of her, every single part, and he tried everyday to tell her.

The stylists had received strict instructions from Nat and Pepper (and him) to provide more than enough dresses in her size to give her a wide range. She’d had a ball trying them on and modeling them for the girls and she’d promised him that he could have his fun getting her out of the dress (with a slight preview that night).

“Baby,” he murmured sadly.

“I know that I haven’t been eating super well and my shoulder was bothering me so I haven’t been to the training gym in a couple weeks but… I just thought… it hasn’t been that long! And the dress wasn’t snug the last time I tried it on…” she sniffled again.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved that dress.” he said into the door.

“It’s dumb,” she said, tearfully. “I shouldn’t be crying over a stupid dress but…it’s just one of those things, y’know?”

“It’s not dumb, Y/N.” Bucky said, vehemently. “Nothing you feel is ever dumb. And you never have to minimize what you’re feeling, especially with me.”

“I know, baby. And I love you so much. I just…I don’t want to feel like this. I’ve worked really hard to love my body and all it takes is a stupid dress for it to all come crashing down.”

Bucky stood silent for a moment, wishing he could take away the hurt she was feeling. Even for a moment.

“Doll? Can you open the door for me? I want to see you.” he murmured gently. He heard Y/N sigh before the lock twisted and the handle turned. He waited as she gently swung the door open.

The dress was a cobalt blue, tea length dress with pleats in the skirt. The bust had molded cups and was held up by thin spaghetti straps. Bucky’s eyes ran up the dress to meet Y/N’s frustrated glance. Her eyes were swollen from crying and she looked frazzled and defeated.

“It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn, and it won’t freaking zip,” Y/N grumbled, turning and showing Bucky the gaping back. Sure enough, the clasps of her strapless bra and the top of her shapewear showed from between the teeth of the zipper.

“The stylist tried three times to get that zipper to work and they finally gave up. Bucky, this is humiliating!” Y/N’s lip trembled and her eyes began to glass over with tears.

“Hey, hey look at me,” Bucky insisted. He took her face in his hands and met her gaze intently.

“First thing is: I love you more than anything on this earth. You are the single most important thing in my life.” he began. Y/N choked back a sob as Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“The second is…” he turned them to face the full length mirror sitting in the corner of Y/N’s room. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his head on her shoulder. He could feel the smooth fabric of the dreaded dress in his flesh hand and the warmth of her skin underneath. How many times had he held her this way, reveling in the feel of her surrounding him? How many times had he traced patterns on her soft skin? He didn’t think he would ever tire of it.

“The second is that you are perfect no matter what you wear. You could be wearing the most haute couture outfit or my old t-shirt that mysteriously keeps finding its way into your laundry basket and you will still be the most beautiful, most radiant woman that I have ever had the honor of calling my partner.”

Y/N bit her lip to push back the tears as her arms came up to cover his around her waist. He could feel her melting into his embrace and he kissed her shoulder beside the loose strap of her dress.

“I know that there will be other days like this ahead, and while I wish that there won’t be, all I can do is promise to always tell you all the ways that you are so much more than the dress size you wear. You are sweet and kind and smart and hilarious. You never let Sam and Tony get away with the bullshit and you are fiercely loyal to the people you love. And I have never seen someone be able to reconnaissance a three floor HYDRA warehouse faster than you can. You are the glue that holds our team together, Y/N. You have saved our lives more times than I can count. 

“And there are still days that I can’t believe you even glanced in my direction, let alone chose me to hold your heart. You saw through the darkness and destruction in my soul and you helped me let the light in. I will spend everyday making myself worthy of your love, but you never ever have to shrink yourself to a box to make others love you.”

Y/N turned in his arms and pulled him down to meet her lips in a searing kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck, and his hands traveled from her hips and around her back to pull her closer.

When they pulled away, lips swollen and breathless, he cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb across her face.

“If you don’t want to go to this gala, I will happily tell Tony to fuck off and we will do whatever you want to do,” he promised. Y/N sighed, looking away briefly.

“I want to go so badly, but the dress…”

“...has arrived!” came a voice from the doorway. They turned to see Nat and the stylist from before striding in with a garment bag slung over their shoulder. Bucky remembered suddenly that their name was Zo.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused. “What are you talking about? I’m currently wearing the dress and it does not fit.”

“You’re currently wearing that version of the dress,” Zo said, unzipping the garment bag to reveal an identical dress to the one Y/N was wearing. Y/N stared at it, dumbfounded.

“I was told this was one of a kind,” she murmured, reaching out to feel the fabric.

“Well as far as the stylists knew, it was. But I know this designer and she is working on expanding her plus size brand, so I had a hunch she had some sample sizes stashed somewhere. All it took was a quick phone call, a police escort thanks to Tony Stark, and now you have your dream dress that I will happily tailor to you. But I am not a miracle worker so say buh-bye to your hunky arm candy and let us work our magic! We only have three and a half hours to make you dazzling.”

“She already is,” Bucky interjected strongly. Zo rolled their eyes and motioned to Natasha, who grabbed Bucky and began hauling him out the door.

“Hang on a second!” he protested, pulling out of her grasp. He turned back to a bewildered Y/N and kissed her deeply. 

“Could I at least help you out of this one?” he teased cheekily. Y/N laughed as Nat groaned in disgust and pulled him away.

“I swear to God I will kick your ass, Barnes,” Nat grumbled, “Now go get yourself pretty while we pamper your girl.”

She promptly launched him out of the room as a team of makeup artists and stylists filed in and slammed the door behind her. Bucky grinned and made his way back to his room to put on his tux and grab the surprise he’d been waiting to give Y/N.

Three and a half hours later, he was back waiting in front of Y/N’s door. His short, dark hair was styled back, and the cobalt blue pocket square tucked into his classic black tuxedo jacket matched the color of Y/N’s dress perfectly. His vibranium hand, encased in a black glove, fiddled with the box in his pocket and he tapped his shiny polished dress shoes nervously. Just as he was about to knock, the door flew open and Zo appeared, looking positively giddy.

“She is a masterpiece!” they declared, ushering him inside. When Bucky made it through the door, he froze at the sight of Y/N’s figure in front of the mirror.

The dress, now zipped and tailored perfectly to her body, seemed to shimmer in the light as it accentuated her curves before flowing from her waist, around her hips, and stopping at the middle of her calves. She wore two inch high, black block heels and her hair was styled down and loose around her face. Her makeup made her skin look luminescent and her eyes bright. When her gaze caught Bucky’s, she smiled widely and Bucky knew the storm had passed. 

She was absolutely ethereal.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Zo asked, moving past Bucky’s prone form to pick imaginary lint off of the dress. Y/N smiled brilliantly at them and took their hand.

“It’s perfect. And I cannot thank you enough for everything, Zo. I feel…”

“Gorgeous,” Zo finished, squeezing her hand. Y/N nodded and Zo discreetly stepped aside as Bucky’s breath returned to him.

When he took a step towards her, Natasha’s hand flashed out to stop him. She had changed into her figure hugging black gown with a sweetheart neckline and long side slit and it made her look even more dangerously beautiful than she was in her widow suit.

“If you even think about messing up her makeup, I will take you down. Behave.” she murmured. Bucky rolled his eyes. He had been to enough events with Y/N that he knew to never kiss her directly on the lips or cheek when her makeup was that flawless.

Instead he approached her and took her hand in his, stooping down to plant a gentle kiss to her knuckles. He heard Zo and the other stylists swoon behind him, but he only had eyes for Y/N.

“Hey handsome. You clean up nice,” Y/N teased. Bucky stood up straight and pulled her closer.

“Ни на одном языке нет слов, чтобы описать, насколько ты прекрасна,” he whispered in her ear. Y/N shivered and he grinned. He knew how much she loved hearing him speak Russian.

“I love you, моя любовь” he murmured fiercely. Y/N smiled and smoothed her hands across his lapels.

“I love you too,” she murmured back. He chuckled and she cleared her throat, remembering their audience.

“Shall we?” she asked. She moved to step around him before he gently pulled her back.

“One second. I was waiting to give you this until tonight.” He handed her the box as Natasha herded the stylists out of the room. She glanced up at him in confusion before opening the top of the box. She gasped in surprise and delight.

“Oh Bucky,” she breathed. Bucky reached in and pulled the necklace out, letting it shimmer in the light.

“The sapphire is from an old brooch of my ma’s that Steve helped me track down. My dad saved for a year to buy it for her and she wore it to church every Sunday. And I had it set with a couple of the diamonds from your mom’s ring.” Y/N reached out and held the pendant of the necklace in her hands.

The sapphire was set in the center with two oval diamonds on either side. They touched at the bottom before fanning out away from the sapphire.

“I remember that brooch from a picture you showed me. Bucky, this is the most amazing gift you could have ever given me! Thank you, my love,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. She turned and let him place the necklace around her neck and fasten it before he pressed another kiss to the clasp at the nape of her neck. She turned back to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Bucky smiled.

“For what? The necklace?” he asked, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Well that, of course. And for loving me when it’s really hard to love myself.”

“I meant what I said,” he insisted. “I will tell you everyday how much I love you and how perfect you are to me. If you can’t believe it for yourself, I’ll believe it for both of us.”

“Back atcha, baby.”

With one last quick peck, she turned and took his hand to lead him into the hallway. They made their way through the hallways until they reached the main elevator.

“Wait…weren’t there two sapphires on that brooch? What are you going to do with the other?” Y/N asked as they entered the elevator. Bucky grinned.

“I have something special planned for that one,” he said slyly, pressing a quick kiss to her left hand ring finger.

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

“Ни на одном языке нет слов, чтобы описать, насколько ты прекрасна,”= “There are no words in any language to describe how beautiful you are.”

"моя любовь" = "My love."

Thank you everyone for reading! Let me know what your thoughts, feelings, ect.

[itsmebytch001]

Uncle Jeff:

Jeff wanted to have the type of relationship Aaron had with Miles but with you, he tried to bond with but since he hadn't seen Aaron, or you since the say you were born all the way through to six he was a bit late on it, when he did eventually meet you once Rio had forced a reconnection between both half's of the family you were unwilling, to say the least to talk to him.

You barley spoke to Miles, or Rio not because you disliked them but because you didn't know them, Miles tried to make friendly with you, trying to play with you and you enjoyed his company but still weren't full excepting of him, or his mom as family, Rio had tried to teach you some Spanish phrases and would always once she came over try and quiz you..

You heard the door ring and rushed over to the door, having to go on your tip toes to unlock it, and once it creaked open both Miles and Rio stood in the hall, Miles went to hug you only to be met with tense and you lightly pushing him away, you still weren't full understanding of him being a 'cousin' and Rio being your 'Aunt' in your mind she was just Aaron's friend, and her son.

Rio: "Hola Chica, ¿cómo estás?" She waited for a response looking down at you.

...

Y/n: *Bats eyelashes blank stare*

Miles poked you in the shoulder, and whispered...

Miles: "She asked you how you are"

Y/n: "I'm okay..?"

While Aaron welcomed them both in the house Rio lightly scoulded Miles for telling you instead of you figuring it out yourself, Aaron checked down the hall for Jeff and was slightly saddened to see Jeff wasn't there, still not talking to him, not even for the sake of their children, but he was still to petty to reach out first.

Miles would always play doll's with you, and tried to get you into basketball, witch you seemed to think was interchangeable with doge ball, so once he passed to you picked it up and launched it at his face so hard he cried, he thought you had done it on purpose so as revenge mircowaved one of your Bratz dolls.

Aaron: "WHY is there a melted doll in my microwave?!"

Miles and Y/n point at each other immedialtly.

Miles: "It was her, she's crazy"

Y/n: "NO it was him, he's a bully"

Miles: "Shut up, big ass forehead"

Y/n: "At least I have a fore head, your eyebrows and hair line are the same!"

Aaron: "Enough! I don't care witch one of ya'll did this, your both gonna clean this mess up!"

And so you and Miles begrudgingly cleaned out the inside of the mircowave together, occesnailly shoving each other or making childish faces.

And finally, after a year of pushing Jeff to make contact with Aaron you finally met Uncle Jeff, or what you would call him, Just Jeff...

You entered the living room to see Rio, Miles and another man, lanky like your Dad but broader with thick glasses standing awkwardly in the room like a decorative plant.

Aaron: "Baby, this is your Uncle Jeff"

Y/n: "Okay?" You timidly shuffle behind your Dad's legs and peer over to over look the brick on a man.

Jeff: "Hey Y/n..." He so clearly is deeply uncomfortable.

Aaron: "You wanna say hi baby?"

Y/n: "no..."

And of course you didn't mean that rudely, but you had never met this man before you didn't care if he was your Uncle, he was a stranger, and Aaron had always drilled into you 'never trust a stranger, don't talk to strangers and especially never talk to men'

Aaron: "Come on Y/n just wave"

But instead being put on the spot you simply froze in place behind your Dad starring at Jeff.

Rio: "Okay well, how out You and Miles go and play in your room? M'kay?" She's trying to save the situation....

And once you and Miles shuffled into your room, Aaron turned to his brother.

Aaron: "well that went better than I thought..."

Of course you saw him a few times after that, and you were beginning to to become envious of the relationship your Dad had with Miles and Jeff was willing to try and give you something similair, but more desecplined than Aaron...

He would take you bowling, taught you how to roll the ball proper and told you that if you put your hand in the shiner it would take your hand off, but once you tested him on that you came back with both hands and one very clean and shiny, he also would try and ply what would happen between you and Diana out of you, but you'd be dammed if you ratted her out to a cop.

But just to put an extra line of precaution of safety he would always take Friday and Saturday afternoon shifts in Diana's area, driving again and again past her building just looking for a reason to come pick you up, and would always have someone patrolling on Sundays.

And once Aaron passed he was now the one keeping you in check, especially when you skipped out on school, he was always the one getting calls from school saying 'Y/n Davis hasn't been in today, do you know where she may be?' and he would go out on patrol looking for you in all the places you may be and usually found you and would drag your ass back to school in the back of his cruiser, and he was always the one picking you up from Diana's after she would get too much for you and pull out the couch for you to sleep on, he was the one keeping up with your grades and making sure you didn't too far behind, always being present at parent teacher meetings with Rio, and he was always the one calling you out for blatantly throwing away oppertuinties just so you could wallow in your own sadness, forcing you to actually attend interviews, sending you texts like...

Uncle Jeff: you do your homework? Uncle Jeff: What your grades looking like? Uncle Jeff: U better be keeping up with Spanish before your Auntie figures out youve been slipping Uncle Jeff: ive aggrenged a meeting with school for the 11th okay?

And through he knew he could never fit Aarons shoes, he de dammed if he just let you slip through the cracks...

Send me reqeuts!

[fulgurbugs]

another doll post!

they cut me from work early, so i had time to stop by my walmart and see if catty was in. she was! i picked her up with some birthday money for 24.99.

forgot to get a pic of her in the box. here she is unboxed tho! she has saran with microbraids around her hairline (be careful, these come undone easily.)

initial thoughts: while her outfit is cute… it’s missing a littleeee bit of flair. some shoe paint, or maybe a jacket, like in her concept art? these little shoulder things are kind of horrendous. (and they kept coming unvelcroed under her pits.) might look into making her something.

now, there’s a reason i i got excited about catty when i was previously unenthused about her. and that’s her new body sculpt! let’s cut to the chase, that’s what we want to see.

here she is! she is now the biggest MH sculpt, by quite a significant amount. luckily she can still fit on this stand, but it has to grab her right at the underboob at her thinnest point.

it doesn’t photograph well, but she has a pink-tinged iridescence to her body, that could read like shiny fur. it looks great, and makes her look very glittery and dimensional.

wide and back views. i love that she actually has a bit of a tummy, and she also has a much thicker tail than toralei. (i wasn’t able to yank the tail out, tho i think it’s supposed to come off.)

here’s some comparisons with some of the other ghouls. she’s a medium height girl, and i’d say she’s slightly thicker in the body and thighs than abbey, though the way she’s proportioned give her a fatter body type compared to her.

it’s more evident when they’re turned to the side. draculaura only has larger thighs, so if we specially compare to abbey, you can see cattys even larger thighs and her stomach compared to abbeys flat one.

she has smaller feet (same as draculaura’s size.) her hands are also standard size.

back to the doll with her clothes on. here’s her boots, as is mh doll tradition

cool sculpt, definitely need paint. probably a pretty simple project to do, but all those buckles and chains are just begging for a layer of silver. only a teeeeny bit got silver paint, which i think is a shame. allegedly most of the budget for catty went into developing her sculpt, so her outfit definitely is a little lacking….

face card. i adore ADORE her makeup, the little stars…. the side glance… augh. my favorite part is her lip paint, though. the gradient looks absolutely lovely.

the accessories. since this is catty’s core doll, she comes with some of the core staples: her phone, a backpack, her pet cat amulette, and some sunglasses. in addition, she has a mic, a broken hand mirror, a water bottle, and some sheet music

here’s inside the backpack and her sheet music open. (the sheet music is literally just a little piece of paper lol.)

here’s her with some of her accessories! i decided to restyle her hair a little bit as well, i saw a cute restyle that took her micro braids and made a little side bang with them, and that was simple to replicate, so i did that too. i also made her ponytail higher, which i think looks a lot cuter. i think i wanna give her a little ponytail accessory or something tho… maybe in black? dunno. i also think she looks cute with her glasses on her forehead, so i’m leaving them.

obligatory .5 shot.

and that’s catty noir! (lagoona foot jumpscare). i think she’s a lovely addition to the g3 lineup, and i really, really can’t wait to see what they do with her in another line. her reception (at least in the spaces i lurk) has been so overwhelmingly positive that i think when we see her next, they can really go all out and give her a gorgeous outfit and a fun theme (maybe a skulltimate secrets doll?) it felt appropriate to put her with my monster fest girlies, so she got center stage (sorry cleo and frankie) thanks for reading this far!

[hikaru-hoshina]

Shiny Cats Pact ♡

To start my Nyammy haul, since I have too many pictures and Tumblr only allows a maximum of 10! I got the standard release both because I usually don't buy the carry cases (and too little space problems) and because believe me if I tell you Nyammy/Lillian merch was, and still is in some cases, sold out since the first hour of the preorder! I got it on Amazon Japan because I also needed another thing so I could cumulate the orders. Initially, I also planned to buy Nyammy's doll and the Tambourine, but the Tambourine was and still is sold out and the doll wasn't exactly how I pictured it to look like (I still might get her but not with her full price). The Pact though comes in a pleasing matte cardboard box with a little window to see the actual product inside. Normally Precure boxes are much more bright but this one you can tell is meant to be aimed at a more "mature' audience. The packaging really makes the Pact shining inside. ✨

Nyammy and Lillian with their lines on the sides of the box!! 🩵 💚

Taking out the pact is easy and the inside of the box is empty, as nowadays Bandai uses QR code links to their product's instruction manual. The Pact is stunning! The lid is made of a pearlescent plastic with golden details and a big heart shaped stone in the middle, it really feels like a golden age Precure toy! The two-toned ribbon is covered in a shiny plastic that makes it look like it's made of glass. 🤍 The holographic foil in the background helps to bring up all the little details all over, such as the pearl border. You can definitely tell that even though they saved on the playable side of this toy they put all of the budget on making it a quality product. ♡

Let's open it! ���

Just seeing the bright colors I go back with my mind at when I was a child and had those toy-like make up palettes! To inform you the make up is not scented or at least it doesn't smell in the Pact and, since I'll keep it for collection purposes, I won't use it. The main point in this palette is, of course, the spinning pearlescent cat, just like in the anime! It's on a light blue transparent plastic plate, and it's fun to spin it even if you don't want to use the actual make up. The blue plate matches the mint green body of the toy, just like Nyammy and Lillian! There is a little bump around the cat's tail so you can place your finger and spinspinspinspin. The make up is divided into 3 parts: the two heart shaped Nyammy Coral blush and Lillian Pink eye shadow and the diamond shaped Cat Pink lip color! The mirror is also huge and can be used to apply make up. 🌈 All around there are 2 holographic ribbons with Nyammy and Lillian's color rain-stones to replicate the two buttons on the Wonderful Pact. :3

Now if you don't mind I need to transform back into my cat form ❄️

[omgthatdress]

Oh, look, another blonde hair, blue eyed doll from AG. I watched the cute little stop-motion short film AG made for Courtney, and I have to admit, it was fucking cute and her charm won me over.

There’s *some* actual historical engagement with the popularization of video games. The biggest thing is that her mom is running for mayor of their fictional town in California (because of course Courtney has to be a Valley Girl) and faces a bunch of sexist BS on a TV interview. It covers the space shuttle era of space travel, Challenger disaster and the emotional impact that had on the United States.

In her second book, Courtney has a classmate with AIDS. I’m glad that was included, because putting AIDS and HIV-positive kids in schools was a huge fight in the 80s. Here in Tampa, the mother of Eliana Martinez, a disabled girl who had contracted HIV in a blood transfusion at birth, went to court to get her daughter into school, and a federal judge ruled she could go to school as long as she spent the day in a glass cage like an animal. It was that bad. Eventually, Eliana was able to attend school without the cage because her mother, Rosa, was amazing.

In spite of everything I like about Courtney’s story, let’s be real. AG’s 80s doll should have been Latina. A Cuban-American girl living in Miami, with at least one parent who’s an Operacíon Pedro Pan adoptee, and with relatives who came over during the Mariel Boatlift. And I’m not just saying that because my parents were living in Miami in the 80s, I’m saying it because Miami was an incredible place in the 80s.

Operacíon Pedro Pan was a program by the U.S. State Department and Catholic Church for Cuban children to be sent to America when parents feared they would lose their parental rights and their children would be sent to communist indoctrination camps. It was a chance for their kids to be raised as Catholic in free America instead of atheists under the brutal Castro regime. About 14,000 children were removed from Cuba to be mostly re-settled in Miami.

You may be familiar with the Mariel Boatlift if you’ve seen the opening scene of Scarface, which actually sums up the situation pretty well.

Now, granted, Mariel only happened between April and October of 1980. Even after the boatlift officially ended, people seeking to flee Cuba continued to come on boats. The “wet foot, dry foot” policy meant that anyone fleeing Cuba who managed to set foot on American soil was guaranteed asylum. However, they had to face the US coastguard trying to intercept them and turn them back on the water. Refugees from Haiti fleeing the Duvalier regime also flocked to Miami, but since Duvalier was right-wing, Haitians weren’t granted the same protections as Cubans were and it was absolute bullshit.

On top of all that, Miami also had thriving African-American, Afro-Caribbean, Colombian, Jewish, and gay communities. There was just SO MUCH incredible stuff going on in Miami in the 80s, and I mean, hello, Miami Vice was a whole aesthetic!

You could include all the stuff that’s going in in Courtney’s books and STILL pack in so much more amazing history. The overall vibe I get with Coutney’s collection is that even though there’s some good stuff in her stories, it’s more about selling 80s nostalgia than actually teaching 80s history, which is a travesty. I know it’d be hard to engage with 80s politics and Ronald Reagan without pissing off a *lot* of people, but you can still engage with some serious 80s history if you just look outside of the blonde hair, blue eye box.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Scream Drabble 2 pt. 2

Word count ; 4.2k

*Edited.

Y/n accepted. Of course she did. She suspected absolutely nothing. Billy placed his hand on the small of her back, and the glass of water was completely abandoned on the kitchen counter. Billy led her down a small hallway that led to a guest bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. Billy ushered her inside, shutting it tightly behind him.

Y/n tilted her head innocently. She plopped onto the bed, kicking her legs care freely. Billy, silent as he collected his thoughts, sat next to her. He sat forward, hands clasped together as his elbows leaned against his knees. His hair fell in front of his face.

The atmosphere shifted into something more serious and Y/n sat forward, placing a hand to rub Billy’s back gently. “What’s going on?”

“I think… I’ve had it,” he spoke carefully. “I’m gonna break up with Sid tonight.”

Y/n gasped, her movements freezing. Billy’s head tilted in her direction, and his brows were furrowed tensely. All Y/n could muster was,” Why?”

Billy shook his head and scoffed. “Why not? She treats me like shit. She actually thinks I’m a serial killer, y’know? Besides, she just ain’t interested in me anymore and it’s fine, ‘cause to be honest, I ain’t interested in her anymore. I don’t really think I ever was.”

“But, Billy, that could be a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing,” Y/n gulped. “Sid feels real bad about it. She likes you. And you two are a total power couple. Before all these murders started happening —“

“I still didn’t fuckin’ like her like I was supposed to. There’s someone else. Always has been.”

Billy sat up abruptly, shifting his body to face Y/n. She seized up, almost sensing what he was implying. She moved to scoot away, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her waist tightly. Y/n glanced at it, a frown tugging at her lips. Billy looked almost offended with how she reacted. However, his eyes narrowed. Seductively so.

“Don’t ya get it, doll? I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since forever. Don’t you feel the same way?”

Y/n was shellshocked from the revelation. Tears threatened to fall because she felt bad for being a catalyst and home wrecker. However, she was so very anxious that she scooted away completely, leaving Billy’s hands cold and longing for her touch. She shook her head, biting her lip.

“I - I’m sorry, Billy. I don’t know where all this is coming from. We’ve always been friends!”

Billy scoffed. He was trying his darnedest not to lose his temper then and there since he knew it all required patience. Once his and Stu’s plan succeeded, she’d have no choice but to accept his feelings. She wouldn’t have anyone else left to cling to except them. Stu told him that Y/n would turn him down, no matter what, but Billy knew that if he didn’t do this, Y/n would feel like she was someone to help him move on from his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. Even if that wasn’t the case.

It’s always been Y/n in his eyes.

“I swear, doll, I came here just to break things off with her. Can’t you just consider it? I mean, we’ve been into you for years. There’s no way you’re that oblivious, right —?”

Y/n stood abruptly. Billy followed suit, reaching to grab her. However, Y/n shook her head. Hair fell in front of her eyes. She grit her teeth, and Billy’s arm fell. A part of his heart ached from the sight. But he expected her to turn him down for the time being. Regardless, though, the hurt in his eyes was true. It stung for her to react so poorly to his confession.

“‘W - we’?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“You said ‘we.’ I - is there something else I’ve been oblivious to —?”

“It was a slip of the tongue —“

“Man, fuck this,” Y/n muttered in irritation. “You could’ve at least done the honorable thing and broken the fuck up with her first, Billy. Now, I just feel like some nasty side chick. Leave me alone.”

“Wait, Y/n —“

She dashed out and slammed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Billy in shock. He didn’t think things would go that poorly. But Y/n wiped away her tears and recomposed herself, dashing down the hall. She was conflicted as to  wether she should join the gang because if she didn’t, she’d burst into tears in private, or if she should go elsewhere to burst into tears in private.

She decided on the former. She remembered the whole ‘strength in numbers’ notion, and even if her main concern was petty relationship drama, the Ghostface serial killer was still on the back burner of her mind. She went to the living room, but just as she swerved, she bumped right into someone.

“Woah, woah, woah! Hey there, Y/n. I was startin’ to wonder where you two ran off to.”

It was just Stu. He held up his hands defensively. Y/n exhaled sharply. “…Oh. Hi, Stu.”

“Aw, what's with the sad look?” Stu pouted care-freely. “Come on. Join us on the couch. You won’t wanna miss this. Jamie Lee Curtis’ breasts’ll be on screen soon according to Randy.”

Y/n shook her head and swatted at his chest playfully. Stu wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her into the room anyways. It was crowded, but there was a very firm emptiness to part of the couch. Tatum was there, arms crossed in vague irritation from how all the guys were going berserk. However as she looked up, joy spread over her features.

“Oh my god! Y/n! Sit next to me!” She made grabby hands and the woman was more than willing to oblige, returning the notion. 

She shoved Stu off her, much to his hidden chagrin, and plopped next to her. Y/n immediately squeezed Tatum close affectionately. Nobody else was aware of how deeply Stu burned of jealousy as he squeezed next to Y/n. He was so very tempted to steal her from the hug and brush it off as a joke, but he didn’t.

Instead, he watched in secret fury. He crossed his legs and sat back, eyeing the women. Even when they were done hugging, Tatum still had her arms hooked around Y/n’s neck. Their attention was drawn back to the movie as a scream echoed through the room from one of the ‘resident sluts’ of the film was finished off. The guys oohed and ached in unison, and Stu was so captivated by his jealousy that he wasn’t even paying any mind to it.

And then, he overheard the in. A boy in the back complained,” Aw man, there wasn’t any beer left in the kitchen.”

Stu steeled himself and downed the rest of his beer. His ears peaked when he heard a very pointed,” Hey, can we talk about something in a bit? Something’s going on with Billy.”

“Yeah, of course. What, don’t tell me he’s here —“

“Hey, babe, mind grabbing the guys some more beers from the garage?” Stu boomed, trying to feign as much innocence as possible.

Tatum scoffed and furrowed her brows. “What am I, the beer wench? Go get it yourself, you lazy ass.”

Stu bellowed in laughter, holding his stomach. Y/n smiled politely, and although Tatum was only slightly irritated from being interrupted, she decided to offer herself up to the task. It was fairly suffocating being stuck in the same room with many strange teenage boys.

“Where are they? I can go get them —“

“No, no, no!” Stu instead in mock horror, but only Stu knew that it was genuine. “Tate’s just gonna get some for herself, eh? Pretty please, babe? I’ll make it up to ya later.” He sent a cheeky wink.

Tatum’s eyes softened she shook her head in dismay. “I swear,” she grumbled playfully,” you men can’t do anything for yourselves, can ya?”

“Nope!” Stu gripped at his heart dramatically and fell back on the soft cushions. “Us men can’t do shit, ain’t that right, boys?”

Some of his friends cackled, although their attention was still glued to the various murders appearing on the screen. Tatum rose to her feet, patting Y/n’s head affectionately. She headed into the kitchen, leaving Y/n to the wolves. She wasn’t sure where Sidney was, since the girl had disappeared a while ago. She assumed Billy had swept her away to somewhere more private to go through with the break-up.

It made Y/n’s heart ache at the thought of being a home wrecker. Even if she was no fool and knew how attractive Billy was, out of pure loyalty, she’d never dream of getting with her friend’s ex. If the same thing happened with Tatum and Stu, it would be no different. As much as she cared for both boys and they were very near and dear to her heart, Tate and Sid would always be the priority.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when Stu’s hand clamped around her shoulder and tugged her close. He had a friendly grin. She was used to his overt physical affection and leaned against his chest. Her eyes drifted back to the movie on the screen.

It was odd how easy it was to fall asleep to a slasher film. Her eyelids were almost shut, lulled to sleep by the terror-filled screams of the murderer’s enemies. Stu was a comfy pillow, too. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but Tatum still hadn’t come back. 

Br-br-bring, br-br-bring!

Y/n gasped, shooting up from her position. Stu squeezed her shoulder, not going for the phone at all. Randy, who sat in front of the television on the floor, paused the movie. Everyone groaned, but Y/n was still so foggy-brained to really care either way. She sent her adorable, weary doe eyes toward Stu, and he couldn’t help but grin and blush, much to her unawareness.

Randy picked up the phone. “Quiet!” he ordered. He listened steadily to the call, and everyone was hushed in anticipation. Their minds were racing with theories. Perhaps Stu’s parents were coming home early. Or maybe the very distant neighbors, at eat half a mile away filed a complaint. However, Randy’s eyes widened in shock and horror.

“What is it, Randy-boy?” Stu asked carefully with a quirked brow. “Ya look like someone just died.”

“They found Principal Himbry’s body hanging from the football field!” Randy exclaimed. “He was gutted, skinned, everything!”

“Well, what are we all waiting for? Let’s go see before they pull him down!” one boy shouted eagerly.

Everyone seemed to rally around the idea. Hollers and hoots echoed in the room and people crowded at the front door. Randy was left in awe, reaching out toward them in dismay. He wanted for them to stop and continue watching the movie, and Y/n was just as horrified at how corrupt the student moral was. Stu didn’t seem to care, though, that his entire party was abandoning him. 

The door slammed open and cars honked from outside. People were in a rush, driving away recklessly, which left just the three of them in the room. Randy, completely peeved, shrugged.

“Their loss.”

He plopped on the couch again and unpaused the movie. Y/n, on the other hand, was on edge. She nudged herself free of Stu’s affection and sat up straight. Stu also sat up in surprise, but she sent him a strained smile.

“I’m gonna go look for Tate.”

Stu’s mouth twitch and he deadpanned,” She probably got pissed at me and left the party early. You know how she is.”

Y/n shook her head. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. She would’ve at least come back with the beers.”

“Ya sure you don’t wanna take a nap upstairs? You were about to pass out there for a sec, babe.”

“At least wait til the movie’s finished,” Randy piped in in annoyance. “I don’t wanna be left watching it all on my own.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be right back once I find Tate.”

Randy clapped his hands together. She jumped in confusion, and the pair watched as Randy paused the movie once again. He jumped in front of the telly, demanding all eyes on him. “You were doing so well, Yn, god dammit! Don’t you know the rules?”

“The rules?” Stu parroted in confusion, furrowing his brows.

“Yes, the rules, dumbass!” Randy motioned erratically as he began explaining,” There are three very important rules in horror movies. The rest of us are completely fucked. But you and Sid? You two are the final girls. At least, you were until you said that.”

“Wh - what are you going off about this time, Randy?” Y/n chirped in confusion, not rising from her seat quite yet.

“Rule number one: no sex allowed.”

“Boo!” Stu chanted lowly, giving the man a thumbs up.

“Yeah, yeah, can it worms for brain. Rule number two: No drinking, doing drugs, or anything bad like that. Again, Y/n you were going to be that virtuous angel who survived ’til the end. And… rule number —“ he held up his fingers. “— three: don't you ever, ever say that you’ll be right back. Because you won’t.”

Y/n gulped, but Stu was giggling like a schoolgirl. She stood abruptly, and deciding to curb her anxiety, she grinned. “Well, I guess I’ll be right back then, huh?”

Randy facepalmed and shook his head. Stu hopped to his feet, aiming to follow. But Y/n shewed him off. She marched through the kitchen. Other than the distant horror movie playing, the house was silent. Too silent for her liking. It was grim. The thought that a murderer could be lurking about was worrisome. But the murderer couldn’t be at two places at once, unless if they showed up to the party late.

She felt cruel when her mind thought back to Billy. But he wasn’t a murderer. An asshole, maybe, but a killer, impossible. Y/n blinked away her thoughts. She went over to the garage door. She opened it up, not paying Stu any mind as he made his way into one of the rooms nearby. 

She opened the door. It was pitch black and hardly any of the light bled in. She squinted and felt around for a light switch. She shut the door behind her and felt around the wall further. Some of the moonlight bled into the garage due to the open door. Something was hanging from it, but the shape was too blurry to be certain.

She finally found something. She flicked at it.

A scream tore at her throat and she collapsed to her knees. She clawed at the stone floor as she bore witness to Tatum, body cut in half. Ghostface was here, and they had killed her best friend. The circumstances was obvious. She attempted to climb free from the garage, fighting for her life, and had gotten trapped in the pet door.

Her body was only half-intact. She didn’t understand how the partygoers had fallen blind to the crime scene, blood still dripping from the stomach. Her vision went blurry and her head throbbed. She was so in shock as crawled forward ever so slightly.

Surely, Stu or Randy had heard her. Surely, they had called the police.

Suddenly, the garage door swung open. She gasped in relief, turning away just in time to miss watching Tatum’s body officially fall into two halves and collapse from the pet door. A wet plop echoed in the garage, and it burned into Y/n’s mind. 

She was only terrified further when, blocking the pathway to inside the house, was Ghostface himself. His knife glinted in the moonlight and he tilted his head tauntingly. Y/n turned and began crawling away on her behind. But the Ghostface took slow, mocking footsteps, descending the steps and approaching so very slowly.

“Stu! Randy!” She shrieked at the top of her lungs. “Help!”

She hoped that they heard her. She prayed to a god that may or may not have existed. All Y/n knew was that she needed to run, and she needed to run now. 

She flopped onto her stomach and attempted to stumble to her feet. However, the moment she was about to rise, the Ghostface suddenly pounced. Another scream escaped her lips as she was tackled to the ground. One arm circled around her neck, breaking the fall for her head, even if her breath was constricted. The body weighed a lot, and Y/n was left breathless and exhausted, barely able to move underneath him.

“Pl - ease!” She squawked, flailing her arms desperately. “Don’t —“

And then, the handle of the knife descended upon the side of her head but one time, knocking her out cold. Ghostface paused for a moment, waiting to feel any movements. And slowly, her breath evened out from her previous panicked pants. Silence fell over the garage.

The killer finally dared to move, sitting up. He straddled the tinier woman and released her neck entirely. Her head thudded gently against the stone and some blood stained her h/c hair from the blows. He removed his weight just enough, dropping his knife to the side. 

He flipped her over on her back. He didn’t plan on moving her anytime soon, but at the very least, she’d have an easier time breathing. Or, well, maybe that was just a thing for sleeping babies and drunks. Ghostface didn’t know but wasn’t willing to take any chances.

He tilted his head and raised a leather-gloved hand to her cheek. Almost amused, he tilts her head every which way. He enjoyed the feeling of her skin sinking it at his touch, even if it was blocked by his gloves. Her chubby cheeks were so adorable. Everything about her was. And it truly was a shame that things had to go this way. The man hadn’t expected her to dash off to search for Tatum, let alone find her.

He should’ve cut the power.

A shaky sigh escaped as the murderer removed himself from the girl. It was time for everything to set into motion. He equipped himself with the knife once more, leaving the woman to lay on the cold, hard ground so very near the corpse of her best friend.

And Y/n remained there. And yet, perhaps it was the adrenaline, but her consciousness was quick to return. Perhaps she was lucky that he only hit her once. Y/n was still baffled as to why she was even alive. As her eyes opened, she saw stars. The garage was once again encapsulated by darkness, but as her head tilted, it was a very rude awakening to find Tatum’s dead, halved body not too far away from her.

A scream bubbled in her throat, but she fell silent. Instead, she shakily pushed herself up on her elbows. The murderer was odd. That much was plain. For some reason, he had singled out her. And perhaps, in their murder-freaked mind, it was because she was deemed the final girl. Not Tatum, not Sydney, but her. 

The resident school nobody that only existed because of who she was friends with.

She coughed. Her head ached like the dickens. Ghostface hadn’t held back. But he also didn’t try hard enough, because here so was, alive and well. At least, about as well someone who just found her best friend’s body could be. She coughed again, pulling herself to her knees. She crawled toward the garage door, pulling herself up the steps.

Only then did she use the door as a balance to help her to her feet. Her vision had cleared enough, but it was still blurry. When she turned too fast, she couldn’t see a damn thing. She gulped, pulling the garage door open with a squeak.

The rest of the house was deadly silent. She snuck through, tears pricking at her eyes. She looked around the kitchen desperately for a phone, a knife, anything. She pulled open drawer after drawer, but they had seemingly been disappeared. So, she took what she could and snatched up a spatula from the sink.

She gulped. She navigated the hallway slowly. She remembered there being a phone in the living room. Obviously. The movie was still running, but it was quiet. Too quiet. She rounded the corner, expecting to find a body. Anything.

But Randy was nowhere to be seen.

For the first time, she couldn’t help but wonder if the killer had been under her nose the whole time.

She entered the living room quietly. As she went around the couch, she suddenly heard the front door squeak open. She gasped and immediately plopped onto the couch. She worried that it was the killer and that she plopped far too loudly.

And then, she heard the creak of the stairs. She gripped into the cushions, peaking her head over just enough. Her heart stopped when the cloaked killer whipped up the stairs, silent but deadly. The knife glinted in the lamp, and he hadn’t noticed. Y/n let out a sigh of relief.

She wondered what could possibly be upstairs. She let her body fall back down and she tilted her head. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, the phone. But, what crushed her chances, was that the black cord was cut and it was sitting in the middle of the carpet, completely useless.

Y/n gulped. She had to find Stu. At the bare minimum, his hands were blood-free. She didn’t know who else was around, but she could only hope Stu was alive. She pushed herself off the couch.

Or maybe she could just run.

That seemed a lot safer. Y/n loved her friends, but she wasn’t stupid. She entered into the main hallway. She was about to pull on her shoes, but then she made the mistake of looking upstairs.

A scream escaped as the blade dug into a person. Sydney’s scream broke through, too, and only when the body was flung to the side did Y/n realize. Billy had been stabbed to death, body tossed to the wind without caution. The bedroom door was suddenly slammed shut, and although Ghostface banged on it a few times, he turned.

And noticed Y/n.

She screamed again. She wielded but a plastic spatula, while the killer’s knife was bathing in the blood of her friends. Some of the blood had splattered onto the ghoulish white mask, and it was hard to know what they were thinking. 

Y/n threw open the front front door. Ghostface was racing down the steps accidentally slipping halfway. He recovered with ease, though, and the moment the door swung shut, it opened up all the same. Y/n raced down the steps, adorning nothing but her socks. The killer was hot on her tail.

Another shriek for help escaped her. A news van was right there, blood dripping from the door. She made it past the fence, hearing the knife slash angrily at the air. The killer almost seemed out of breath, but Y/n was living off of pure adrenaline. 

She went around the van. Just as she slammed open the door, the killer collided with it. Y/n gasped and slammed it shut. The window was down and the killer reached in, grasping the girl by the neck. The knife had seemingly been dropped, and both hands clasped around her neck.

Y/n was left breathless. She reached for the ignition desperately, other hand clawing at the murderer’s neck. Her foot was pushing with whatever strength remained into the pedal. She felt at the key with shaky hands. The Ghostface continued to strangle the dear delights out of her, almost unwillingly so. Her head was completely hanging out of the open window.

She was beginning to lose consciousness. 

And then, as her fingers wrapped around the key, she twisted it.

She gasped for breath and screamed at the same time. The murderer’s hold was relinquished in exchange for her head hitting the car door. But, as her body fell into the driver’s seat accelerating far too fast, she realized it was too late. She gripped the steering wheel, trying with all her might to swerve.

She broke through the white picket-fence and headed straight into the wilderness. She was howling at the top of her lungs. She was sure this was her end. 

She crashed into a tree and everything went black.

[totowlff]

chapter seventeen — i'm not entirely to blame

➝ it's so easy to lie to yourself...

➝ word count: 3,5k

➝ warnings: mentions of smut

Toto lived in an extremely quiet, charming neighborhood just outside of Oxford, in a little hamlet called Boars Hill. His house was set on two acres of land that was mostly surrounded by trees, with a spacious and well-maintained back garden. Since the first time Cassie had visited his house, when Ingrid was still just an idea in their heads, she had a good feeling about it. She could even see herself walking down the narrow country roads pushing Ingrid in her pram, or watching Ingrid romp around the back garden as she and Toto sat watching her in chairs on the patio, just like a real family.

“No, Cassie, we’re not a real family”, she scolded herself as she made a left turn onto Bedwells Heath, looking carefully through the trees for Toto’s drive. She’d missed it once or twice before. 

It wasn’t that they weren’t already a family of sorts; they’d come together to have a child, which meant they would be linked together in something resembling a familial unit, just not in the traditional sense. They were just friends, who were going to be parents together, but without the affection couples normally had for each other.

Except, though, sometimes their feelings for each other, at least for Cassie’s part, felt bigger than she would be willing to admit. 

Plus, there was the sex…

The memory of Thursday night sent a rush of heat running over Cassie's skin. After bringing her to climax twice and giving her a few minutes to catch her breath, she felt the same heat as before. Just as she was going to remark on the sensation, she was interrupted by Toto as he kissed her again, his hands holding her tightly before sliding to the spot between her legs and making her come a third time.

However, when Cassie made a move to return the favor, Toto stopped her.

— Tonight is about you, Cassie. Just about you.

As she parked her car in front of Toto’s house, she clenched her jaw as she remembered the way he had cleaned her up and put her to bed, kissing her gently on the forehead before he left her flat, ignoring her pleas for him to stay. Seeing him leave hurt more than it should have, but there was nothing that could be done.

Toto would never be hers completely.

As she stepped out of the car, she looked up at the front of the house, admiring the traditional-yet-modern exterior, especially the way the front of the house looked like a circular tower, with a large panoramic window on the top floor. A vision popped into her mind — she and Toto sitting on the sofa together, his arm around her shoulders, her snuggled into Toto’s side. No work to do, no races on the other side of the world to get off to, just the two of them enjoying each other’s company, watching their daughter play with dolls or blocks on the colorful area rug as a summer rainstorm rolled through the meadows surrounding Boars Hill. 

A perfect, quiet afternoon. 

She shook her head as she pressed the button for the doorbell, chiding herself for letting her imagination get carried away again. A few seconds later, it opened, revealing the smiling face of the house’s owner. 

— You know you don't need to ring the doorbell, right? — Toto said, smiling. He was wearing a chambray button-down and a pair of loose-fitting khaki trousers. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, exposing a plain white t-shirt underneath. To Cassie’s surprise, he was also wearing a pair of glasses with round, black frames. She wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him dressed quite so casually. Even when he had accompanied her to the clinic, he tended to wear a pressed Oxford shirt and some sort of dress trousers. She knew he occasionally wore glasses, but it was rare.

— I didn’t want to seem presumptuous  — Cassie replied — Besides, I don't live here.

— Not yet. But you will.

— Temporarily.

— Yes, but I still hope you see it as home while you’re here — he replied, opening the door wider — Come in and make yourself comfortable, please. 

With a small smile on her face, Cassie walked past him, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. Leaving her bag in the entrance hall, she waited for Toto to close the door to follow him through the house, stopping for a few seconds to look at the compass rose tiled into the floor of the entranceway. She had always found that detail of the house very charming.

— Are you hungry? I can make some tea before…

— It’s fine. I ate before leaving home.

— Are you sure?

— I'm fine, really — she replied, trying to reassure him.

Toto let out a sigh.

— Well, if you don't need anything, could you come upstairs with me?

Cassie nodded, following Toto up the stairs to the second floor, where the nursery was. He had shown it to her in the first few weeks of her pregnancy. However, instead of turning right, towards the door of the nursery, he turned left, opening the door and asking her to step inside.

 It was a large suite with a king-size bed facing a large window, which had an impressive view of the garden at the back of the house. There were also two armchairs next to a fireplace, as well as a large painting above it of an Alpine landscape, perhaps in Austria. Staring at the painting Cassie realized which room she was standing in.

— Why are we here in your bedroom?

— Because it will be yours. Well, while you're here.

She blinked.

— But… This is your bedroom, I couldn’t possibly…

— There are three other bedrooms I can sleep in. It’s no trouble.

— Toto, I can’t…

— Cassie, you need to be comfortable, especially after the birth. This room is big, has a very comfortable bed and a private bathroom en suite. Also, it’s the one that’s closest to the nursery.

— I don't need a big room. Any place will do, even the nursery. We can have the decorator put…

He shook his head.

— No, we’re not going to put your bed in the nursery.

— But if I stay in the nursery I’ll be close to…

— You won’t be able to get any rest if you stay in the nursery, Cassie. You won't sleep because you'll be keeping an eye on the baby. You know that being fatigued will not help you recover after the baby is born, and it will just make taking care of her more difficult.

Cassie clenched her jaw and looked away from him. He wasn't wrong. If she was with Ingrid constantly, she’d be on high-alert at all times, and wouldn’t ever be able to get any rest, even when she needed it. She would hate for something bad to happen to the baby because she was tired.

— Okay — she conceded — I'm not going to sleep in the nursery, you’re right. But, I'm not going to take you out of your bedroom. I can stay anywhere else, but not here.

Toto sighed.

— Okay, come with me.

The two went to another bedroom, a little smaller, but no less comfortable-looking. The minimalist, almost-generic decor gave the impression that it was just a guest room, not used very often; everything looked almost brand-new.

— The only problem with this room is that it doesn’t have a private bathroom, so you will have to use the one in the hallway. Otherwise, it’s just as nice as the master bedroom. 

— It's great — she smiled, heading over to the bed and sitting on the mattress to try it out. Toto sat next to her, a small smile on his face.

— I'll ask Bertha to get everything ready for you to settle in next week.

— Next week? — Cassie said, her eyes going wide.

— Yes, so you have time to get comfortable and…

— Toto, I was going to move in after I’m discharged from the hospital with the baby, I couldn’t possibly…

— But there are so many things for us to do before the baby arrives — Toto exclaimed — We have to tidy up the nursery once it’s ready, buy more clothes, get the car seat, get all of the baby’s things organized, pack your bags for the hospital, you still have doctor’s appointments, we have to go to visit the maternity ward…

— I don't need to move here for that.

— And how are Bertha and I going to help you organize things if you’re not here?

Cassie raised an eyebrow.

— With your hands?

Toto gave a sarcastic laugh.

— Very funny.

She laughed.

— I know.

— The point is that, with you here, it will be easier to make decisions about things, especially regarding organization and routine in the first few days. Furthermore, I —Toto hesitated for a few seconds.

— You… What?

— I wanted to enjoy this time with you. You know, the…Nesting period, I think they call it. Plus, doing things for Ingrid without you is strange. Every time I buy things for the baby, the salespeople ask where my wife is, so I lie and say that it is for a friend’s daughter, because if I tell them it is for my daughter, they will want to know more about her, and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea and that they will think trying to have a family this way is strange, and…

Cassie sighed in frustration, taking Toto’s hand in hers.

— We're not doing anything wrong, Toto. We are only doing what we want, which is having a family. Just because we’re not doing it in the most traditional manner doesn’t mean we’ll be any less of a family. Trust me, a traditional family isn’t always a happy one. I am speaking from experience, so trust me on that.

He looked at her, a small smile on his face.

— But we can do things better, Cassie.

Something inside her jumped, her heart pounding in her chest.

— Better?

— Yes. Move in with me.

— Toto…

— I'll feel a lot better if you're here, and Bertha can help keep an eye on you when I'm traveling.

— Toto, I'm not a child who needs to be supervised.

— But you have a child inside you. And she needs to be supervised.

— Yes, by me.

— And by Bertha — he said, giving one of those mischievous smiles that made her heart race. Seeing Cassie rolling her eyes, he added — And there's no point in making that face, Cassandra.

— You sound like I'm incapable of taking care of myself...

— I’m only saying this because I am concerned about the well-being of the woman who — he paused for a few seconds, as if he was evaluating the words he was going to use before continuing — Is pregnant with my daughter. That's all, Cassie.

Cassie was about to answer him when the doorbell rang downstairs. Toto stood up, saying that he was going to meet the decorator and she should wait for them in the nursery. Walking down the hallway with one hand resting on her stomach, she tried to shake off the anxiety that was building up by breathing deeply.

When she stepped into the nursery, she was a little surprised by the amount of things in the room already. In addition to the stroller, baby carrier, and the package of things from Mercedes-Benz that Ola had sent them after Toto had told him he was going to be a father, there were bags of baby clothes, and several boxes printed with the logo of a well-known toy shop in London. She had pulled a onesie out of a bag to look at, running her fingers over the screen printed lettering that read “future CEO” on it when she heard footsteps behind her.

— Well, this is the room — Toto said to the woman next to him. She was quite a bit shorter than him, with dark hair, styled into a pixie cut. She had glasses with dark-rimmed frames, and was holding a briefcase in one hand and a tablet in another.  — And this is... Cassandra.

She dropped her clothes and went to the designer, smiling.

— Nice to meet you, Cassandra — she said, extending her hand to shake — I'm Taylor.

— Likewise, Taylor. You can call me Cassie, by the way.

— As you wish, Cassie — the woman replied, smiling — Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to just ask a few questions so I can get to know both of you. For starters, how long have you been married?

Toto’s eyes went straight to the floor, and Cassie noticed it. He was definitely uncomfortable with that question. And that was what made Cassie smile at the woman.

— A few months. We decided to make it official after we discovered the little one was on its way.

The response made Toto look up suddenly, looking somewhat shocked at what she had said. However, if Taylor had noticed that reaction, she didn't notice it.

— Oh, that's great. And have you lived here for a long time?

— I moved here in 2012 — he answered. His entire demeanor had changed since her arrival. If he was cheery before, now he seemed distant and distracted — I did some renovations, but nothing major or thinking about a function for this specific room.

Taylor walked around the room a bit, taking photos with her phone, analyzing the walls and the window for a few seconds. Placing her bag on the floor, she took the tablet and its stylus out of its case. After a few taps, she began to scribble something on the device's screen, a thoughtful expression on her face.

— Is the baby a boy or a girl?

— Girl — Cassie replied.

— Do you have anything in mind regarding decoration or colors?

— No pink — Cassie replied, definitively — No unicorns and rainbows.

The woman smiled slightly, writing something down on the tablet. Then, she began to explain the ideas, as well as the trends that could be incorporated into the room and that would make their routine with the baby easier. She also discussed some of the pictures of cribs, closets and changing tables that Toto had sent her. Finally, she asked if they had a theme in mind or if they were thinking about something neutral.

— Well, I do — Cassie said, making Toto look at him — When we decided to become parents, the first thing Toto did was buy a plush bunny, and I don’t know why, but… It has stuck with me. I think that would be cute.

— Do you agree, Toto?

— Yes. Maybe something with rabbits — he mumbled, crossing his arms. 

After asking a few more questions, taking measurements and making a joke about how much stuff they already had for the baby considering that Cassie wasn't even halfway through her pregnancy, Taylor said goodbye to them, stating that she would send new drawings with her ideas to the nursery by email to Toto. Then, politely, he motioned for the woman to follow him back to the house’s hall of entrance.

Alone in the nursery again, Cassie took time to stare at the white walls. She caressed her belly slowly, imagining herself in a comfortable rocking chair, breastfeeding her daughter. She imagined showing her the pictures of rabbits on the wall, the lamp on the ceiling, the cozy crib. She imagined herself changing her clothes and diapers, while talking and making faces at her, making her daughter giggle.

The room would be perfect.

The footsteps that sounded behind her made her look back, a small smile on her face. Toto had returned to his room in silence, with his eyes lost on the walls and his hands in his pants pocket.

— What did you think of her ideas? — Cassie asked, approaching him.

— Good — he replied, his voice flat.

— I liked the idea of indirect lighting that she suggested, to bring a more cozy atmosphere to the room, but I'm still in doubt about the style of the decoration, whether something more classical or something more modern is better — she continued, walking around the room — But her idea of using niches here to decorate is fantastic, isn't it?

Toto nodded, his gaze directed at the swaying treetops outside the window. It was the confirmation she needed to realize that he was strange, distant, even a little cold. And he had been that way ever since Taylor suggested the two of them were in a relationship.

She stepped toward Toto carefully.

— Toto? — Cassie asked softly, his eyes meeting hers — Look, if you're feeling bad about what I said, I just thought it was easier to lie than to try and explain our situation, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable...

— Cassie, it’s not that, it’s just — he said, interrupting her abruptly — I’m just frustrated. Fuck.

— Why? — she asked, softly.

He ran a hand across his forehead, clearly uncomfortable.

— Because, even with all my work, all my effort, everything I said, not just to you, but to the lawyer and to myself, I failed. 

— Failed? What do you mean?

— I failed to uphold our agreement by getting involved with you.

She swallowed hard, watching as Toto ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to come unglued. He was feeling guilty, but it was all Cassie’s fault. It was her fault that she hadn't been able to simply ignore her own horniness.

And it was consuming her.

— I know I shouldn’t have asked you that on Thursday...

— But you did — Toto grunted, looking a little irritated. His reaction made Cassie look down, feeling embarrassed. “I deserved that”, she thought.

— Toto…

— But the problem isn't you — he said, making her raise her head quickly, meeting his eyes — The problem here is me.

— But…

— You are in a vulnerable moment, feeling the effect of hormones, and all of that. It's not your fault for feeling urges and desires. But I'm to blame for not respecting the boundaries we set in the conversation with the lawyer. I should have said no to you, Cassie.

— And why didn't you? — she asked softly.

Toto stared at her silently, as if he was measuring his words. With every second, the tension inside Cassie grew.

— You said you needed my help. And I promised to help you. I was simply keeping my word — he finally replied.

— Then why are you so upset?

— Cassandra…

— After all, you were just keeping your word, simple as that.

— It's not that simple, Cassandra! — Toto exclaimed. She didn't know the reason, but her heart started to beat harder, her palms sweating. Hearing a man raise her voice, even as innocuous as the situation was, reminded her of her father, as well as the loud fights and arguments they had.

— And why not? — she managed to ask, her throat tightening.

— Because we made a legal agreement, stating that we would not have any romantic involvement.

— You know that's just a piece of paper, right? I'm not going to sue you for having sex with me.

— That’s not the point. We made a commitment, Cassandra, I had committed to giving you support and support to bear and raise our daughter. Of course, we started the wrong way, but I had already got it into my head that it was necessary, after all, to have a child, you have to have sex...

— Actually, there are other ways…

— For two fertile and healthy adults, having sex is the first option. But that's not the point, Cassie. My point is that, after doing what is necessary, it was my intention that things returned to what we had agreed upon.

He hesitated, running his hand over his face again. After a sigh, Toto continued.

— I like you, Cassie. You are an incredible, courageous, intelligent woman… I would never have a child with you if I didn't like you, but we went too far.

Cassie clenched her jaw. She couldn't say anything, the pain in her chest growing by the second.

— I think it’s better for us to… Put a limit on this.

— A limit… — she stammered.

— Yes, we need to re-establish our boundaries here. I will continue to support you, taking care of you. That won't change. The idea of you moving here still stands, everything remains the same. But, no intimacy. No kissing, no sex.

The thought of never kissing Toto again made Cassie's chest hurt, as did the thought of never feeling him touching her in a tender, sensual way again. To think that she would never again see him the way she had in those two nights was almost suffocating. Cassie had no idea how she would be able to move on knowing she would never have him again.

She felt like arguing, telling him that she was incapable of doing that because she was completely in love with him and was willing to tear up any paper and face anything to have him for herself. Maybe this was the time to say the three words she most wanted to say to him. 

Yes, that was the time.

— Toto…

— Are you okay with that? Can we go back to just being friends?

“No, Cassandra”, she told herself.

— Yes, we can.

[futuristicsaladparadise]

My top 10 girlies. If I had to get rid of all but these (and I might), these are the ones I couldn't bear to part with.

Shamsa Kabil Nasr Mansour (back left), aka This Poor Girl, broke my heart a little when I first saw the treatment she had received from previous owners. I just want to hug her and tell her everything will be all right, even though she may have to go to the hospital in the future. Her eyes are still messed up and will never sit right, so she wears glasses. She was so damaged, I decided her backstory would include surviving a military attack on her home. She currently lives with her aunt, uncle, and big sister in the US, where she is learning to read and speak English.

Ivy Ling (front left) is practically perfect, and fits in nearly every modern decade. I love her unique eyes.

I wanted a Ruthie (Ruth Ann Smithens, back row) doll for some time, but not AG's Ruthie, because she didn't look like the books. Everything magically fell together (seriously, I wasn't even looking for a face and ran across the head on eBay, and they eyes and wig were the first things to fall out when I opened their respective containers) and Ruthie was born. I think she looks a bit like Liesel Matthews from the 1990s version of A Little Princess, too.

LaRae Bliss Turner (front) was an accidental find. I had been lowkey looking for an Addy mold doll for about a year, and knew I wanted different eyebrows. I kept coming back to the listing, even saving a screenshot and finally decided that she was the right doll for me. I'm still working on her backstory.

Blaire Wilson (middle back): I thought I didn't like Blaire. Blaire was blah. She had hobbies I wasn't interested in, I don't like her name, and the previous dolls I had seen had those weird downcast eyes. Then I was looking for a secondhand version of Rebecca's Hanukkah outfit and found a listing of this girl dressed in the full outfit. The price wasn't bad, and I thought I could always donate the doll if I didn't like her. Well, she's grown on me and now I can't make myself give her up.

Annika Jessalyn Nazarbayev (middle front): Annika was one of my very first dolls, and is the doll I've had the longest. Since she was originally Jess, I tied her story into that. She's Jess's niece (her mom, Heather, is Jess's older sister), and her middle name is a nod to Annika's past and her character relationship to her aunt.

Nellie Brigid O'Malley (back): I gave my Nellie a middle name to distinguish her from AG's version. She's another book-based character doll, and might just be my favorite. Don't tell the others.

Tabitha Danielle Crow (front): I never intended on keeping Tabby. I bought her as a damaged Rebecca to fix up and donate, but now I don't want to let her go. Her last name actually belongs to a friend of mine; the two of them look like they're related.

Dubheasa Ni Mhaoileidigh, aka Dovie, (back right): Dovie is also an ex-Rebecca and since, logically, I do not need 2 Rebecca-based dolls (nor 4 Josefina molds, nor 2 Josefina mold redheads with green eyes), I shouldn't keep her. Emotion trumps logic though, and I keep bringing her out. She has a sweet, timeless look that I wish AG played more into.

Last, but not least, Apolline Renee Kincaid: I bought her as a semi-dupe for Cecile who was retired well before I started collecting. I also have a penchant for creating my own characters and wanted a 1920s girl (I came up with the character about a year before the first mentions of Claudie), so she lives near New Orleans during the end of the Harlem Renaissance movement there. I love that she has the older Sonali face mold. Apparently I prefer the older dolls, as I didn't choose to keep any of the ones I had bought that were recently released.

Face mold totals: 4 Josefina, 2 Sonali, 2 Jess, 1 Marie-Grace, 1 Addy

Who would you have in your collection of 10 or fewer dolls?

[vaporvipermedia]

Kei Yoshihiko Revamp🔎🗝️

[Ramshackle Dorm]

Bio

Name: Kei Yoshihiko (He/She)

Birthday: September 30th

Age: 18

Height: 167 cm(5’6)

Dominate Hand: Right

Homeland: Canada 

Family:

Ida Yoshihiko (Mother)

Yoshinori Yoshihiko (Father)

Unnamed Aunts

Unnamed Grandmother

School

Grade: Freshman

Class: Class A(No.23)

Club: Gargoyle Research Society 

Kei joined this Club once he started to bond more with Malleus. Even though this was something he wasn’t used to, Kei still wanted to support his prince fan to listen to his interesting facts and ramblings.

Best Subject: History of Magic

Originally Kei took this class simply due to her being completely new to Twisted Wonderland. Ever since her first lesson on this subject, Kei studied up in the college library to get a better hold of the magic system of this world. Even coming across mentions of enchanted tools that piqued this detective’s interest more.

Preferences

Hobbies: Ballet and Waltzing

Took up dancing classes at a young age after his classmates’ parents complained about Kei’s behavior. He would often tell kids infamous murder mysteries during conversations and psychoanalyze kids around him to the point they regret talking to Kei.

“Your child should be more ladylike and talk about dolls or dresses! Not this disturbing foolishness! Put her in some dancing classes or something. Maybe that will take her mind off of that crap.”

At first Kei’s parents ignored the parent’s blatant screeching. They didn’t want to force their kid into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with. But Kei on the other hand agreed with the angered parents and decided to take these classes.

The last thing she wanted was her parents to get in trouble because of her actions.

Pet Peeves: People being difficult when he asks a simple question

“ I asked a question and I expect an answer. The last thing I need is your attitude…I’m not patient enough for back talk.”

Favorite Food: Okonomiyaki

Least Favorite Food: Mushrooms

Talent: Psychoanalyzing people

Kei’s Inventory 

Magnifying Glass:

At first, this was just an ordinary tool used by Kei during his investigations. But thanks to Crowley enchanting the Magnifying Glass for his future cases, Kei can now detect other’s fingerprints and remnants of footprints through this magical lense.

Seeker’s Will:

This was originally Crowley’s infamous weapon “The Whip of Love.” But since he barely even used it Kei decided to take ownership of it. Crowley even changed the design and gave it a different enchantment from the original one. Kei needed to protect himself since NRC is well…NRC. 

Utility Belt:

A belt that Kei wears to carry his most important tools. From Seeker’s Will to his Magnifying Glass. Kei found this belt while exploring the different rooms in Ramshackle.

Notepad:

A notepad that was transported with Kei when she arrived at NRC. Containing all the old notes she was hiding away in her old bedroom.

Ghost Camera:

Kei uses the Ghost Camera mostly for crime scene purposes so she can take pictures of scenery that might be relevant to her case. But whenever a special event occurs in her friend group, she often snaps a few for memories sake. Just to look back on if she ever does find a way back home.

Heart-Shaped Locket:

A locket from Kei’s childhood that has a picture inside he still holds on to this very day. Often gets tense when people touch it.

Briefcase:

Another item transported with Kei to Twisted Wonderland. It holds different newspaper articles about the disappearances and even some of Ida’s findings on that case.

Background

Kei Yoshihiko is an aspiring detective who is desperate to solve the case of his mother's disappearance, Ida Yoshihiko. Before she went missing, his mother was a journalist who wrote articles about strange disappearances in the city where they lived. But there was always something strange about Ida’s actions that Kei found interesting; whenever he went inside Ida’s room to check on her, he would always find sketches of a black horse carriage and notes about dreams she had about a magical mirror beckoning her to come to another world.

Kei gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she was just getting sleep deprived from the story she’s reporting on. But when her mother went missing the next day, Kei's father, Detective Yoshinori, jumped right into the investigation. Kei wanted to help with the case, but her father didn't want her to get in the way, so he quickly shut her down. Which really just made Kei feel absolutely useless in that moment. She couldn’t help find her own mother’s whereabouts simply because she wasn't qualified. Nothing but a glorified distraction in her mind.

He knows Yoshinori didn’t mean to make him feel this way, it was just his inner thoughts getting the best of him during this stressful situation. But that didn't stop Kei from finding out the truth. He took Ida's notes, drawings, drafts & began trying to figure out if they had anything to do with her sudden departure. After coming to a dead end, he decided to rest and continue his “investigation” the next day.

That night, however, Kei had a dream about a talking mirror. The mirror reflected a hand in its frame, beckoning him to approach it. Realizing that her mother's notes were correct, She stomps towards the mirror to yell at the possible cause of her mother’s disappearance. Only to wake up in a dark floating coffin with a feisty cat outside attempting to steal his newly acquired uniform.

Now stuck in the world of Twisted Wonderland, it is now Kei's goal to discover the secrets of  NRC while also attempting to determine whether or not his mother vanished in the world he has now found himself entangled in.

Personality/Situation

From day one in this new world, Kei Yoshihiko said that he was a junior detective. That was a lie.

Kei is not a detective. Yes, he has the skills worthy of one but it’s not official. Coming here to a new world gave Kei the opportunity to strive for his dream. Even if it’s in a magical world. Maybe even be a help to others in NRC by solving cases.

Eventually she started to slowly feel miserable. After case after case she solved all of them. But, more kept coming in this hell hole of a school. Crowley was oh-so happy to pile a work load onto someone else for a change and luckily for him Kei was the perfect person to hand it off to.

Soon enough, Kei started to develop an Imposter Syndrome and acted differently to how she was in the beginning. In the prologue Kei was a confused mess who often let people walk over him like he did previously in his world.  Now in later chapters Kei has become more stern, mysterious and most importantly done with everything.

All she just wanted was to find her mother and leave this place. But of course, Crowley wasn’t doing his due diligence to help out Kei as much as she helped him. Leaving her having a disdain for the raven looking headmaster. Now she has to deal with cases, blots and finding a way back home. Which only makes her life even stressful.

But later on as he continues to live in the dingy Ramshackle dorms with his demanding cat Grim, he begins to realize that even if his treatment was grueling. He signed himself up for disaster in the first place. Lying about being a detective. Noticing that he is also at fault for his own well being.

Coming to terms with herself, she continued to solve cases and help out whenever she could to students in need of a mystery to solve. And so she could feel less useless to the people around her. In the end, Kei has grown bonds with different students and housewardens. Even got herself into a relationship. Which was a huge surprise to her as well. 

Even if Kei still acts stern and serious, he does have his soft moments with the main cast. Often being vulnerable to make them feel comfortable around him. Deep down he does this out of care even if it meant lying to others about his profession.

Kei knows that one day, she would eventually have to tell them the truth even if it would hurt her on the inside. She’s just waiting for the right moment. When will that moment come? Well that is a mystery soon to be solved.

Trivia

Whenever Kei gets annoyed or flustered she starts to speak Osaka-Ben. She picked up that speech from her father and relatives in Osaka.

Gets completely stubborn at the mention of sleep. Refusing to go rest until her work is fully complete.

Often prefers to work alone but over time Kei has gotten used to his company. 

Has been learning how to handle Seeker’s Will properly but is still at his beginner phase. Usually better at restraining people rather than attacking them.

Her parents helped dye her hair when she first turned 18

When Kei was a kid, she would often rummage through her dad’s files of different cases. Some of the gruesome pictures didn’t really affect Kei in her young state. Which just made her parents worried for a few months.

Is currently in a relationship with Rook. This was a surprise to Kei because he never believed that he could ever be in a relationship. Especially with someone like, well…him.

Bonus

Transparent and Nameless Ver.

Reblogs>Likes

[teabutmakeitazure]

Unfair Deal

>Yan! Pantalone x Fem! reader

a/n: 3 am post so not properly proof read. Please ignore any spelling errors. I just wanted to get this out of my system lol

Warning: mentions of undressing, no explicit mention of sex (but indirect), mention of kidnapping threat

Word count: 1k

------

An accidental stumble turned out to be a much larger nuisance. A guild commission led you to a delivery into a camp in the nearby forest. It paid well so you took it, unknowing of who posted it. You should've read the details.

When you did get there, you were immediately caught and interrogated by a Fatuus. With how you were panicking, it wasn't pretty. The soldier brought his supervisor since they couldn't figure out who actually commissioned the guild, but it just escalated things. The supervisor made snarky comments, the most outragious one being how someone like you shouldn't be associated with the guild and should just 'sit pretty at home'.

Safe to say, your blood boiled. You caused a ruckus by screaming at him and throwing in a few profanities here and there. Soon enough, you were interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. The man who did that is the same man who sent a letter to your home.

It's a simple request (or should you say command): your hand in marriage. You don't think you can stomach the idea of marrying a guy who's first words to you were threats. But alas, fate is cruel.

Your ecstatic parents quickly made the arrangements, happy with the prospect of their daughter marrying a harbinger. With no say in it and a very explicit threat of kidnapping from Pantalone himself, you resigned.

Soon the wedding was over, and you ended up in a hotel room of a place so expensive you couldn't even dream of it. But the man shrugging off his coat near the coat rack could. For him, this place might even be plain.

For someone who has so much money, he sure is petty for getting back at you like this.

As you sit on the bed idly, you count the seconds till he decides to pounce on you. It took you a lot of pep talking yourself to not be shaking when alone with him. After all, you're still somewhat scared of him. Too much power and too little morality is a bad mix. Especially in your case.

"You're awfully stiff, dear." The smooth, confident voice pulls you away from your thoughts, and you clench your fists harder under your dress. Not wanting to quiver even the slightest.

"Keep that up and I might mistake it for consent or approval." He walks towards you, slowly, but stops a few feet away from the bed. Light reflects off the crystal clean frame of his glasses and he puts his arms behind his back. After observing you for a moment, Pantalone smiles and shakes his head, deciding to approach you.

Immediately, you take in a nervous breath and your eyes widen at the sight of him walking over. The first night after the wedding is the most important one, according to your mother. She had explicitly told you to please him to stay in his good graces, but you can't even imagine having to partake in an intimate union with him.

He stops a few steps away from where you're seated on the bed, eyeing you up and down. From the way the dress falls onto the floor to your tight lipped expression and hands hidden under your dress. A smile makes way onto his face again and he chuckles. "Are you afraid?"

Feeling like a child getting caught staying past bedtime, you look away, suddenly finding the floor more interesting. However, it doesn't take long for his shoes to come into view.

"Ah, you really are. It's no good if a wife is afraid of her husband, now is it?"

You remain silent, not wanting to indulge him in conversation.

"You weren't so scared when you were blabbering that day. Where's that spirit? I was hoping to see it in a more… private setting."

With no response from your side, he sits down on the bed next to you. Thanks to your dress spread out, he's a good two feet away.

"At least raise your head. I'ld like to see you up close, all dolled up." You don't give any reaction and that's when he leans in and grabs your chin. With eye contact established, you saw how his pupils dilated. Safe to say it sent shivers down your spine.

"Why the cold attitude, wife? Was the ceremony not to your liking? Or is the dress not to your tastes?"

The ceremony had too many people and the dress shows too much of your back and neck than you like. You wore a coat at the wedding so it didn't count but it's uncomfortable now with how his gaze keeps falling to your chest.

He should just get it over with if he wants to consummate the marriage. At least you'll be out cold after it, as humiliating as it would feel.

When he raises a brow, you muster all your courage to give a reply before he gets mad. "It was fine," you gulp, "I'm tired. Can we please go to bed?"

Pantalone releases the hold on your chin, eyeing your figure. Adjusting his glasses a little, he looks at you side eyed. "Though I do admit that the ceremony was exhausting, I don't think you're that tired, now are you?"

"I am."

"Hm, you must also be cognizant of the fact that your parents lives are in my hands and so is yours. I want you to pick your choices wisely."

"I understand, but I'm not lying. I am exhausted." You make sure to furrow your brows a little to make it seem more believable. He probably caught on but who cares if he decides to spare you.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm craving a rest in my beloved's arms."

You internally celebrate the victory but it soon dies out when he leans in, lips grazing your earlobe.

"I will let you off the hook tonight if you let me undress you. We can consummate our marriage when we reach our home. The walls might be thin here anyway." He moves back, a hand now on your collarbone that's slowly descending downwards. "So then dear, may I?"

[hyacinthdoll1315]

The Doll of Night City

"Did you hear?" the man spoke up. "Someone's been goin' round taking out people left an' right!"

The noise of the bar stereo did well to drown out the hushed whispers of patrons as they spoke about their day-to-day, handling business, or just nursing a drink before a big op. The man sitting at the front shook with nervousness Ill-fitting a Valentino.

Beside him, his compatriot looked surprised, putting his glass down in front of him. "No, what do you mean taking out? they got a target?"

"That's the thing! No one knows. It's almost random, but the person's zeroin' gangs, corpos, street thugs! heard they even went and clipped off a whole maelstrom hideout!"

"What? Who was helping them?" the man drank the rest of his drink before slamming it on the table. his pupils dilated as his voice trembled.

"No one, went in alone. Some guy noticed someone go in the back, heard gunshots, and yelling, then silence. Didn't even see anyone leave. from what I hear, when the cops showed, the scene was a bloodbath, people cut apart like scop, with bullets through all their heads."

the man's friend had trembled with his next words, eyes tracking across the room. "y-your kiddin, how? That can't be true. no way they did that without at least a long checkup after."

"And yet, that same damn night, Militech convoy is transferring some new, top-of-the-line merch. moving from the plaza to Kabuki, seems simple. Then, out of nowhere, while moving through a less busy street, there's a quiet bang and the driver's seat is now painted red.

truck stops as the guards come out to see the problem. and the place is completely silent. Another bang, and the guard to the right drops dead. there's this quiet ticking somewhere as the militech peeps are getting antsy, looking left and right, it goes completely quiet again as the soldiers are scanning around for danger, a closer ticking and bang, another one flatlines. 6 more soldiers are there and they start talking loud, looking for their target, fingers on the trigger of their guns.

the area is silent again until they hear that ticking getting closer. before it was as quiet as the wind, now it's just above a whisper, but they're too busy talking to tell where it's coming from. A third bang and guard number three's down. this time these guards know exactly where it came from and so point all their guns in the direction of the ticking. all their eyes are on the area where the shot came from and there's still that damn ticking. suddenly, one of them just starts firing. wether they saw something is hard to tell since it's pitch dark out here, but he just starts shooting his gun out across the whole area, hitting walls, a fence, a signpost, but not a single sound of someone getting hurt.

Bang. Completely opposite of where they were looking, and the man shooting his gun drops dead. now there's only two and they're panicking. they move back to the convoy for cover and start wildly looking around, ones already pulled the old driver out and are prepping to get in when suddenly, the ticking stops as a doll steps out from the shadows."

The man's partner slams his glass down, "A doll!? what, one of those JoyToys? okay, now you're fuckin' with me."

"N-not one of those dolls!" the man yells, loud enough to make his friend pause any laughter he was about to have. the bartender gives him a wary look before continuing her work.

"Sure, we all know that kind of doll, but I ain't talkin about them. I mean literally. Body covered in porcelain, limbs moving on ball joints, the thing was borged-up, nothin but chrome. it's got nothing on hand, looks completely unarmed and is wearing some rags you'd get in an XBD.

And while those two guards are tensed up, prepping for the worst, this thing is just slowly walkin forward. The thing was moving like it was on strings, face showing no emotion as it trudged forward, slowly and methodically. finally the guard not getting in the truck has enough and tries to take it out. Except the bullet never hits as the doll is suddenly to his right, still moving forward. guy keeps trying to shoot, to make it flinch, get it to stop getting closer, but every shot misses as it moves to the side. and then it's in front of him. ripping the gun out of his hands and knocking him to the floor. It aims the gun into the truck and shoots the other guard dead, before... it's arms open into mantis blades and...a-and,"

The man stops talking as his whole body trembles and shudders, his friend just takes it all in while trying to comfort his friend. it takes a few minutes for the man to get his breathing under control, and stop the tremors that shake through his body.

Once he's got himself stable, gets another drink and drinks it all down, his friend finally questions. "What happened to the convoy?"

"I don't know," the man answers, "when people found the scene, convoy was still there, all in one piece except for the two blasted windows. only thing missing was some cyberware for camouflage."

"how do you know about this?"

The man trembles. "I got help from a netrunner, wanted to see if we could try hit a convoy ourselves so asked them to track it. thing is that it noticed the camera moving and broke it. that netrunner, after sending me the video, said something had gone wrong. I've tried contacting them but haven't heard a word from them since. I think that thing knew we were watching, and now it's coming for me."

"That's crazy though," the friend said. "there's no way that you could have been tracked. I mean, aside from the video, only other person who knows would be the netrunner and there's no way they'd say anything, right?"

"m-maybe," the man considered.

"so cheer up choom! No way you flatlining aside from having too much to drink, c'mon, lets get you home to rest."

the two got up and left the bar, the bartender making a note of putting it on their tab.

No one noticed how the door stayed open for longer than it should have. No one noticed the quiet sound of ticking that got quieter as it moved. No one noticed the way the air fizzled just slightly as the door closed behind it.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Are we still friends? | chapter nine

summary:  you return from your date with hangman and a question arises, who's your daddy?

listen to: Dress - Taylor Swift | I was made for loving you baby- Kiss |(playlist here)

warnings: smut!!!

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

“How was the date?”

You sighed as soon as you closed the door, clocking Rooster sitting down on the sofa while he sipped on a glass. His words slurred and you knew immediately that he’d gotten drunk; the why, though, was something that you didn’t quite get. 

You hadn’t been talking since you’d slapped him on the tarmac, you’d quickly gotten your things out of the lockers and driven home with your bike. Rooster arrived until you’d gotten out of the shower and fixing your hair for the date, you kept the door locked though since you didn’t want him to come in and make you talk, you didn’t think you could withstand another wave of pain after your fight. 

He didn’t pry though, at least not until you walked out of your room completely ready to go on your date. Hangman was waiting for you outside and you found Rooster sitting on the sofa simply waiting for you. When your eyes met, you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped. He seemed so awfully broken that you for a moment got worried that he was getting sick but you knew he wasn’t. He simply stared at you, he stared at your dolled-up face and at the dress you were wearing, how utterly beautiful you looked. 

“Are you going to say anything to me?” you’d asked him. 

He could’ve told you not to go, again. Not that you would’ve listened to him but he could’ve still said something and yet he didn’t. He just stared until Jake was knocking on the door and you were hurrying out the door, not wanting any interaction between the two. If you’d been at home, you would’ve learned that tears slipped down his face unwarranted as quickly as you drove off with Jake. You would’ve learned that he’d never felt such an ache in his heart that he believed wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He wondered if you would go home or if you would simply spend the night with no other than Hagman. He cursed himself because he knew that the one you should’ve been on a date with him, not Hangman. 

And yet, he hated himself because he hadn’t been able to say it. He hadn’t been able to say to his best friend since he could remember that he loved her. To his fiercely loyal, reckless, beautiful best friend he loved her. And so he drank, he drank the weight of the years he’d kept secret his love for you, he drank the guilt of what he’d done so it wouldn’t consume him any longer. 

He drank and drank until you arrived. 

His eyes widened as he saw you opening the door, avoiding his gaze and he was drunk. 

“None of your business,” you grumbled while you walked past him, leaving your jacket and purse in the kitchen while you looking for something to eat. 

Bradley chuckled slightly. “But it is, especially when you’re living with me,” he answered back and you turned towards him while frowning. 

“Who are you? My dad?”

He stared at you for a second and then he looked back down at the tequila he was drinking. “Daddy, maybe,” he mumbled. 

Your eyebrows raised for a second, not that he noticed as he drowned the last bit of tequila that was in his glass. He was definitely drunk; Bradley Bradshaw was known for being prudent, the opposite of what you were. He disliked anything that sounded too crude, he was a nice boy just as Carole had raised him to be; and yet when he drank, you’d realized that all his inhibitions were loose. 

You often fucked with him when he got like that, you could’ve fucked with him right now. Maybe it sounded mean, but in all honesty, he deserved it after your fight. 

You bit your cheek to keep yourself from smiling. “Well, he took me for a lovely dinner first,” you cooed softly while eating some blueberries as you watched him from the kitchen.“Then we went to the Hard Deck, where he kept touching my hip and making small circles there,”

Bradley tensed up, his jaw ticked as he heard you. If he was holding the glass, he would’ve probably broken it by now, and yet you were unaware, simply noticing that he was annoyed and you smirked. 

“Maybe I got too drunk and he was a gentleman until,” you trailed off, not finishing as you sighed dreamily while looking away from Bradley for a second. 

“Until?”

You meander closer to him, a smirk drawn on your face as you turned toward him. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was looking at the floor. His neck was reddening by the statement, by your words, if he wasn’t as drunk as he was he might’ve noticed that you were fucking with him. 

But he hadn’t. 

“Until he kissed me,” you purred as your heels clicked on the floor, you were in front of him now as you watched Bradley expectantly, part of you hoping he would soon enough curse you off while you laughed at him. 

But he didn’t, it seemed like he wasn’t even breathing. He quickly stood up and walked forward to you, he got so close that you for a moment felt startled by how quickly had gotten up, a gasp escaping your lip as you barely give a step back but he grabbed your bicep, pulling you closer to him. 

“Is he good?” he asked, you could smell the tequila on his breath as you stared into his honey burnt eyes. 

You fell silent, staring at each other heatedly. He was serious, way too serious for your liking but you still felt slightly angry at him, at what he’d said. If he wanted to be so nosy, then you would make him pay for it. 

“Yeah, he’s very good,” you muttered as you watched how Rooster chewed his cheek as he stared at you. “He placed his hand on my thigh,” you stated as you began to play with the Hawaiian shirt that he was wearing. “And then I touched his chest, trailing down at”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, because Rooster had closed the gap between your lips in a searing kiss. You were stiffened at first, surprised at the sudden action but as he began to move his lips against yours, you melted against him. You reciprocate, just as desperate, just as needy, with every inch of your soul that had craved for him for so long. 

You whimpered and you slid your arms up his chest, pulling him by the shoulders closer to you as you grew delirious from the intoxicating kiss. It was passionate, it was wild and it was everything that you had been waiting for over the years you had been in love with Bradley Bradshaw. It felt like all the tension that had been building up between both of you had culminated at this moment, exploding into the air, bursting, burning you as if it was a fire. 

Rooster’s hand slid down to rest on your back as the other cupped your face. When you pulled away for a moment, he looked down at you softly as if he was looking at you for the first time. His body, his heat, and his comfort saturated you. You looked up at him, as his thumb caressed your cheekbone softly. 

“Rooster,” you breathed out, part of you wanted to tell him that what you were doing seemed wrong, that he might regret it but you knew this was what you wanted all along. 

“Brat, don’t,” he asked, pleading against your lips as he watched you. He was asking you not to put some sense into whatever was happening between you two but then he closed his eyes as if he was trying to control himself. “Do you want me to,”

“Yes,” you breathed out as you tugged at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer than before you kissed him again, claiming his lips in a hungry kiss. 

He leaned down, molding his mouth to yours as he grounded softly while he looped an arm around your body, keeping you pressed firmly against him. You pressed harder against him, gasping softly as you felt him. Rooster took advantage and he traced your lower lip with his tongue, demanding entrance. It was almost too much at once as you began to tug his shirt, he took the hint as he took off the Hawaiian shirt and the white one under it, dropping it to the floor. 

You touch all the hard planes and rough ridges of his body, you’d stared at him so many times without a t-shirt, you’d seen him but this was all new; your heart was thundering on your chest as you touched him, your nails raking his skin as you reached his pants and began to unbutton his jean. A growl - a deliriously low growl- left Rooster’s lips as he felt you palming him through his jeans and before you could process how the sound had seeped deep, deep inside of you, right into the marrow of your bones, Rooster was pulling away for a second as he stared at you. 

His eyes caressed you. It was as if he was wearing glasses for the first time, glasses that he needed and now he’d gotten them and he could really see. You were the most beautiful woman that he’d ever seen in his life, a beauty too unique not to think that you were tattooed now in his soul. Softly, Rooster caressed your bottom lip as you closed your eyes, he then pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“Look at me,” he murmured.  

You opened your eyes and peered at him, staring at him as if he’d taken your breath away. He quickly placed his hands on your shoulders, took the straps of your slip-black dress and he quickly dropped them. The dress fell from your body easily as you stared at him. No one had looked at you the way Bradley was looking at you as he licked his lips and groaned. He skimmed his fingers along your collarbone and then down to your chest, on the valley of your breast as he stared at you in awe. 

“God, you’re everything to me,” he muttered with a smile before he leaned down and kissed you again. You smiled into the kiss too, as he slowly moved his lips against yours, coaxing a moan from your lips as you felt him touching your skin as you pushed into your tiptoes, even in heels, he was taller than you. You wrapped your arms around his neck before Rooster’s hand skimmed down your sides, grabbing your ass and tugging you up into his arms with ease, you hooked your legs around his waist as he walked you to your bedroom, climbing the stairs. 

Rooster placed you softly on the bed before he stared at you with a smile, he quickly placed a soft peck on your lips before he smiled and kneeled in front of you, he kissed your thigh and then your leg before he took your feet and began to quickly take off your heels. You giggled at the gesture, at how softly he did it at how he was treating you as if you were a princess. He smiled too as he looked at you mischievously but as he finally dropped the other heel the laughter died down, you realized that he was still on his knees and he was staring at you as if he was a man deprived of air. 

You squirmed under his eyes as his hands trailed up and down your thighs before they settled on the edge of your panties. He stared at you and you understood him completely, you lifted your hips obediently for him as he pulled them down before he quickly grabbed your hips and guided your thighs over his shoulders. 

You closed your eyes as you felt him, laying down as your cheeks heated up as he looked at your core unashamedly. Usually, you were pretty confident with your partners, but with Rooster, you felt exposed, and a bit vulnerable what you weren’t seeing was that he was gazing at you as if you were a diamond. You moaned loudly once he pressed his tongue flat against your core. 

He placed a hand on your stomach as he tried to hold you down as he buried his head between your legs again, his tongue teasing at your folds before he settled in and sealed his lips around your clit before working for small circles on your bundle of nerves. His eyes are on you as your chest rose and fell with each moan you let out. His name fell from your lips in a breathy plea as his tongue flickered your clit before he began to fuck you with his tongue, you couldn’t help but buck your hips off the mattress trying to get him to go deeper. 

“More,” you demanded with a whine and Rooster chuckled, sending vibrations through your body, making you whine loudly. 

You knew Rooster was good in bed from what you’d heard but this? This wasn’t just good, this was mind-blowing. Your hand fell to the one he had on the valley of your chest, holding it tightly as you felt your orgasm building on your stomach as he pressed down hard on your chest, keeping you firmly in place. You moaned loudly, head lulling back against the bed. Rooster groaned softly as he slid two fingers inside of you, making you gasp. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed out as the knot in your stomach snapped. It was toe-curling, an explosion inside of you, it’s everything. 

Your back arched into the mattress as your body began to tremble. You fell apart, snapping as you felt him groan softly against your core, making you writhe against him. Shockwaves of dizzying pleasure rippled through your body, you gasped for air as your body shook because of his touch. 

Rooster hovered over you as he watcheed you with his soft eyes. His lips crashed into yours, so fast that your stomach twisted and your heart felt like it was stabbed by the way he was touching you. You couldn’t tell if you were breathing but at the moment you didn’t care, you just wanted his lips and you refused to give it up while he kept grinding on you and you pulled his caramel curls in the back of his neck, a whimper fell from his lips and you knew that he was so extremely yours. 

Heat rushed through your limbs, still burning from your previous orgasms as he placed his forearm next to your head while his other hand fumbled with his jean as he pushed them down easily. You grabbed the back of your neck, moaning softly as his tongue glided over your lips. The kiss grew hungrier as the seconds passed and lighting cascaded up Rooster’s back as you reached down for him and started palming him through his boxers. 

“Bradley,” you moaned as you peppered kisses along his jaw, biting down on the shell of his ear. 

“Yeah?”

“I want you now,” you whined breathlessly as you feel the desperation growing in your chest. 

Rooster slid his hand down your hips, cupping your ass before he changed position as he sits on the bed and lifted you up, straddling him, placing you exactly where he wanted you. You can feel it, his length right next to your thigh, so hard and hot, Rooster nearly loses it when you grab his length and rubbed it against your core. You moaned as he sucked on the skin of your neck, tilting it so he could have more access as he moved both of you perfectly on the bed. Your lips meet again in a sloppy, heated kiss as you gasped into his mouth when you begin to sink down into his cock. He lets out a heavy breath as he’s buried fully into you. 

Your body was humming with what seemed like sparks of electricity simmering through your body, your heart about to burst from your chest as you looked at him. He was so pretty, he was everything you wanted, you let out a breathy gasp, your body filled with desire that you didn’t understand but you were shaking. 

“You don’t understand how much I’ve dreamed this moment, you” Bradley whispered softly as he took your shaking hands in his as he kissed the the palms of your hands as he looked up at you."I'm finally having you," he breathed out as he took your face in his hands and began to kiss you softly before he began to move. 

Almost a groan of relief as he begins to rock his hips gently back and forth as you adjust to his size. You felt tears brimming on your eyes by how he felt inside of you, your hands still shaking as you watched him. Rooster wrapped both of his arms around your body and cradled you against him as he rolled his hips slowly, working himself into you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, soft moans spilling from your lips. You wondered if your mind has shut down, it feels so amazing, the pleasure burning your body as he drove into you. 

Rooster felt you clenching around him as he shifted his hips to sit further into your depths. His fingers dug into your skin, a groan leaving his lips as he buried himself to the hilt. He filled you over and over again, leaving open-mouth kisses on your chest as you rolled your hips to meet his relentless thrusts -fucking you until you could barely keep your eyes open. 

You watched him, mesmerized by how pretty he looked, how the gold chain hung on his chest, how he moved his hips in the most perfect way, his cheeks burning with a hot blush. You’re aware of how his breathing had gone haggard and rough as you threaded one hand into his caramel curls, your gazes locking in as he continued to pound into you. 

“y/n,” he moaned nearly at the same time that you whimper. 

“Shit, Bradley,” you let out. 

Rooster was sure he had memorized every little squeal and quiver of pleasure that left your mouth, as he watched how your face contorted in absolute bliss, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted as you gasped for air. 

“Faster,” you demanded as you arched your back closer to him, causing you to see stars dancing in your vision from the sudden burst of pleasure that ignites your arousal. 

Rooster, being the good boy he was, hooked your legs farther, lifting his hips with the new leverage of his heels on the bed, spreading your legs wider and shifting his hips once more as he pulled out and slammed back into you. You cried out, throwing your head back as he rocked his hips, driving in and out of you roughly, drowning you in pleasure as you rake your nails down his back as both of you become so much more desperate to reach each other’s climax. 

It was hypnotic the rhythm, increasing by the second. It becomes hectic, the bed rattles from the force of his thrusts as you clenched around his cock. You’re right there, you’re just there as you gasp for air when Rooster suddenly reaches a hand between the two of you, rubbing your thumb hard against your clit. 

“Come for me, honey,” his voice, is low and it caused you to snap. 

You fight to catch your breath as you tremble from your orgasms, your legs quivering violently as you gripped his shoulders. His hips rutted jerkily into you, striving to reach his own completion as you clenched impossibly tight around him. He continued grunting and moaning as he chased his release, his one hand holding your skin moving to grab your hair, pulling it softly while you cried out as you grabbed harder onto his shoulder, still fucking you through your orgasms. It becomes barely animalistic, touching and gripping and grabbing anything you could get your hands on, there was no holding back as he guided your hips tightly so he could continue fucking you. 

“Good girl,” Rooster hummed and you felt tears falling from your eyes because of the pleasure. 

He grunted as his thrust became sloppier and you screamed, your body humming with electricity and still shaking, your heart beating wildly on your chest as you looked at Bradley with your teary eyes and kissed him softly. 

“Come inside of me, come on baby,” you whimpered against his lips, his hips stuttered a bit as he heard you. 

“Oh, fuck!” he panted as he closed his eyes before he filled you. You mewled over him, legs shaking as he spurted his hot liquid inside of you, pulsing and twitching, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you tried to catch your breath. 

You stay there for a while, holding each other before Rooster pulled out, you whimpered at the loss of his touch. He placed you delicately on the bed, both of you laying there next to one another as you tried to catch your breath as the quiet of the night settled back over the room. Rooster took a hold of your waist and pulled your back close to his chest. Holding you as you began to fall asleep. Maybe he thought that you were asleep, but just as you were closing your eyes, you heard him mumbling it against the back of your neck. 

“I love you,”

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author’s note: so I lied. This is going to be the last update to a fic for this month lol. as always thank you for reading!! thank you for your patience but I'm so excited for thisss chapter and the roller coaster of emotions that will ensue.

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feedback is always welcomed!!

want to invite me a glass of wine so I can write the smut?