#Doctors for Home Care in new town

[suntoru]

✧˖°. PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY!

summary: genshin men being huge simps and spoiling u every chance they get <3

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scary mooch, xiao, thoma, ayatoe, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: i swear i was working on the masterlist but the brainrot finally got to me hnghhhh

warnings: gn but feminine implications (ie. princess treatment, reader wears heels and makeup, passenger princess), simping for reader, maybe ooc? swearing, fluff, some are modern aus, maybe innuendos?

─ ✰ DILUC is the gentleman we all deserve in our lives. if it’s raining outside, he’ll make sure to protect you from the wetness! he makes sure you’re fully bundled up in his coat, and that when he’s walking you home, the umbrella is fully covering you. oh, his shoulder’s getting wet? that’s fine, a little bit of water never hurt anyone. but if it happens to you? all hell breaks loose. what if you get sick from the rain? are you feeling alright? do you need medicine? a doctor? and if you’re in a modern au, he’ll definitely let you be the passenger princess 🥰 you can take naps, eat snacks, and pick all the songs! you don’t ever have to worry about giving him directions, you can just do whatever you want. he even installs led lights in his car so you can take asthetic pictures <3 if you’re tired, don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine alone, take your beauty sleep :) he drives you anywhere you want, no questions asked! you want to go to his mansion? you’ll be there in ten. grocery store? sure. nail salon? he’ll even accompany you to get your nails done just so you won’t be alone, pays for everything too!

─ ✰ KAEYA is absolutely whipped for you. to most people, he’s the town flirt, and a drunkard, but to you, he’s the most caring and softest person you’ve ever met, even if it’s hidden under layers of hurt. if you go out drinking with him, and come back drunk, he’ll carry you bridal style back home. pressing your body closer to his, he makes sure to prop your head so your neck won’t get sore. and if you wear makeup, he won’t put in the low effort to wipe your face with a makeup wipe, he’ll do your whole skincare routine for you! first, he uses makeup remover to take everything off, then, gently, he massages the cleanser into your skin and washes it off. he applies your creams and serums, making sure to be as tender as possible, even if you whine that all you want to do is go to sleep. he soothes you, whispering that all he needs is ten more minutes to brush your teeth and get you changed so you’ll feel clean in the morning. and for the hangover in the morning? he makes you special soup and showers you himself so you don’t even have to lift a finger.

─ ✰ CHILDE loves spoiling you whenever he gets the chance to. other people might think it’s just another sugar baby dynamic, but in truth, it’s far from it. it’s a selfless love, not just based on materialistic items. but even then, he’s willing to sacrifice his time and money for you. you’re his baby and his top priority always, no matter what. are you hungry? well, get ready, because he just booked a reservation at the highest star restaurant in town! you’re having a bad day? no problem, he’ll send one of the lower ranking fatui members to do the dirty work and he’s coming home early! he’ll bring home a large bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffie to match. you need new clothes? he’s driving you to all your favourite stores on his card <3 his wallet is practically bottomless, so don’t be afraid to spend what you want! a couple thousand mora is nothing to him if he can see your frowning pout turn into the pretty smile he loves so much. he even carries all your bags for you without asking! he can’t have his darling getting tired after all :(( just as long as after you give him a smooch on the lips and an hour of cuddles, the only payment he’ll accept (´∀｀)♡

─ ✰ KAZUHA, even after years of being in a relationship, still finds ways to give you butterflies in your stomach. when you come back into your quiet home after a long night, too exhausted to take care of yourself, he leads you to a chair and sits you down. he ever so delicately unlaces your heels for you, taking his time doing so, but don’t worry! you won’t ever be bored. if the silence is too much, he’ll ask you how your day was, talk about his, and spill all the tea that happened on the crux. and if your feet are tender, he’ll massage them gently so they won’t be sore in the morning :(( he’s putting the utmost care and effort into whatever he’s doing for you, and that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. he still opens doors for you, dedicates hundreds, if not thousand of poems and haikus to you, and never fails to make you feel loved. he’d never forget an important date, even if you don’t mention it for months before! he always asks for your hand, and when you place it in his with a knowing smile, he gives you a fairytale-like kiss on the top, making sure to peck every little fingertip in the process.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE never thought he’d bow down to anyone again in his lifetime. he’s trained every little bit of himself to be the most powerful, the strongest being he could so he’d never have to go through that humiliation. but yet here he is, tucking away his ego and pride, bending down on the ground for you. yes, he may grumble, telling you to hurry up, and that he doesn’t have all day, but the fact that he’s basically submitting to you speaks for itself. you taught him what love meant, healing, and promised that you’d never leave him, and for that, you have his eternal loyalty. as you climb on his back, he gently hooks your legs against his arms as he stabilizes both of you. the proximity of your face resting against his neck causes him to go up in flames, throwing his oversized hat on your head, telling you to hold on to it for him. but really he’s hoping the large structure obstructs his rosy cheeks. he does every little ‘embarrassing’ thing for you, from painting his nails barbie pink to being shrek for your matching halloween costumes. if his younger self were to look back at him, he simply wouldn’t believe it, but now, he wouldn’t even consider the possibility of even saying no to you.

─ ✰ XIAO never, ever, takes you adventuring with him, simply because he believes someone as precious as you shouldn’t risk getting hurt and scuffed up. so instead, he brings you little gifts that he sees while adventuring. a glaze lily, protective adepti charms, and almond tofu are all gifts that he’s brought to you before. he’s also much softer with you, never raising his voice and being cautious about his choice of words. if you ever get caught in a physical situation with him, automatically he moves to stand in front of you, one arm protectively circling your waist, pulling you closer to him. being xiao’s s/o, you also get special privileges. while he answers most who call his name, if you even utter his in a whisper, he’ll be there in a heartbeat, no matter if it’s an emergency or not. whether you called him to join your tea party, or if you are in the slightest bit of danger, he’ll be there. he also trusts you more than his logic, even if everyone else is against you. if you’re in a scuffle with other humans, he makes sure to hear both sides, but his heart already knows who’s right. whether there are 100 witnesses who all say you’re wrong, he’ll still believe you anyways.

─ ✰ THOMA is absolute malewife material, no questions asked. sometimes, if he’s not busy in the mornings, he’ll surprise you with breakfast in bed without a special occasion. he’ll peck your cheek and give you a soft ‘good morning’ as to not break the sleepy trance you’re in, carefully placing the tray onto the nearest nightstand. whenever he’s around, he does all your chores too, from washing the dishes, to dusting the house and sweeping the floors. you wom’t even have to lift a finger, he goes as far to make lunch too! since he’s not home by then, usually somewhere in the kamisato estate, he leaves handwritten sticky notes on each lunch box he gives you. he fills them with messages like, “the perfume you wore smells good today!” “your smile is blinding, my ray of sunshine” or “you’re gorgeous always, my lovely.” never once is a message repeated, he believes someone as special as you deserves to hear something unique each day. he even goes as far to make your food cute! he’s made panda shaped onigiri’s, cat-like dango’s… all because you asked him once, it’s become a tradition now.

─ ✰ AYATO never leaves you bored when he goes to one of his meetings. his maids set up a spa day, complete with a makeover and evening gown to go with it, but it’s just not the same without your husband :( thankfully, being the significant other of the head of the yashiro commission has its own perks. for instance, you can walk around like you own the place and join in on in his meetings, albeit later you might get punished by ayato for interrupting, but really, he doesn’t mind. seated on his lap, you play with his fingers and let out a quiet huff. why did you think this was a good idea again? what they’re talking about is so boring, you’re beginning to regret your desicion to join ayato, wishing to be soaking in the tub with a face mask again. thankfully, shortly after, he cuts the conference short, apologizing and telling them he has more pressing matters to attend to. you lead him straight home holding his hand, giddy that he’ll join another one of your salon days. he makes sure to pamper you, giving you a massage and washing your hair for you, praising you for being so patient, even if you were the reason the meeting ended early.

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM, i headcanon, thinks he’s being subtle with putting up with your shenanigans, but he couldn’t be farther off. he might seem indifferent on the outside, but he cares much more than you might think. can’t sleep? just wake him up at 3am, he’ll wrap you in a blanket burrito and read to you until you fall asleep! just got your nails done? he’ll carry all of your books, what else would he need his giant man boobs muscles for? he revolves around you, as if you are the sun and he the earth. and god forbid if you’re ever mad at him, his whole life comes tumbling down. although if you can’t see it in his facial expression, all of his rationality goes flying out the window. he’s snappier than usual, getting annoyed at the littlest of inconveniences. even if you’re in the wrong, he’ll still apologize first, he just wants you to start talking to him again 😢 if you have conditions to making up, he follows them all to the tee. give you one kiss for every hour he’s made you upset? done. buy you the newest line of makeup or skincare? absolutely. cook dinner for the next two weeks? he already does that.

─ ✰ KAVEH is placed 1st on the list of simps. just pout your lips and whimper a “pretty please?”, he’s down bad. he lets you braid, curl, and play with his hair whenever you want, even if it was already styled in the beginning. he lets you steal all of his clothes, who cares if he’s worn the same thing five times in the past week? you look so adorable in his white shirt, he can’t complain. oh, and if you don’t like his style? he’ll let you pick out his clothes and style him yourself, he’ll stand there patiently for you like a mannequin <3 technically it’s not allowed, but he shows you all of his top secret projects and all the cool things he’s doing, you’re the only one allowed in his office! oh, what’s this? you want him to do your makeup? just give him a week, he’ll perfect cat eyeliner, lip liner and blending eyeshadow colors for you! after you’re done, he lets you do his makeup too, praising you for your talent. even if the blush is patchy, foundation cakey and lip gloss smudged, he still thanks you endlessly with unlimited cuddles and a new handbag matching his briefcase!

©hawkssimpsblog 2023.

[loveemagicpeace]

🎈Jupiter & Your Spouse🎱

🎈Jupiter is the planet that indicates what characteristics your husband/wife will have. Which zodiac sign can it be and where can you meet the person.🎈

❤️‍🔥Jupiter in the 1st house - your spouse can be fiery, independent, intense, daring, fearless. Can have a lot of energy and can also invest a lot in things he is passionate about. It gives a lot to the appearance. A person's energy and expression can mean a lot to him. A spouse may like someone who is fearless or a risk-taker himself. Having Jupiter in the first house indicates that the right partner can help you discover your true self and bring out your best qualities. They expand your sense of self and can make you feel very self-assured. You can meet your spouse at an event, sporting event, competition or somewhere related to you. You can just when you go outside the comfort zone.

🤎Jupiter in 2nd house- your spouse can be stable, materialistic, stubborn, likes comfort, luxury, money. Can spends a lot on food, movies, music and above all enjoyment. Determined and fixed. Your partner will be vocal about their beliefs and seek a partner who shares their perspective. You can meet a spouse at the bank, at a concert, in the cinema, or at a hotel. You could also meet them out in public while indulging in your favorite things.

🧪 Jupiter in 3rd house - your spouse can be communicative, talkative, intelligent, quick to respond, rational, likes many different things and topics. Spouse can put a lot on communication and the mind. He could be younger than you. This gives you good and understanding partners, and they will support you in every phase. You also tend to attract overly complicated relationships that can cause you a headache. Jupiter in the third house shows you might fall in love with someone you grew up with, like a classmate from school, a neighbor, or a family friend. You can meet a spouse through siblings, relatives, at school, quizzes, social games, it can also be your neighbor, roommate.

⛵️Jupiter in 4th house- your spouse can be caring, compassionate, emotional, can help you and is always there for you. A person who values ​​privacy and likes to be at home or in the comfort zone. A person who gives a lot to family and home. Can be very protective and tough. Sometimes also capricious. You can meet them through your mother, close people, at a house party, in your home environment, somewhere near where you live, dinner party or out walking your dog or housewarming hosted by friends.

🎡Jupiter in the 5th house - your spouse can be proud, playful, strong, always carry an inner child, loud, fun, romantic. He gives a lot to hobbies, fun, socializing. He likes things that are light and pleasant. Can be warm, confident, determined, generous and also selfish. It indicates that your future spouse will be the center of attention, an outgoing person who is widely known. You can meet them at some activities, casino, can also be love at first sight, at the summer time, out on the town, whether dancing, singing karaoke, or exploring a new city with your friends.

🖼️Jupiter in the 6th house - your spouse is caring, takes care of health, can be a perfectionist, sees details, hardworking, organized, critical. It gives a lot to lifestyle and movement. He knows what he wants out of life. He might seem particular to some, but he's just the right brand of neurotic for you. You can meet them at work, in your everyday life (for example, in a store, pharmacy, physical exercises, fitness center), at the doctor's.

🧸Jupiter in the 7th house - your spouse is romantic, harmonious, fair, balanced. A spouse can give a lot of peace and attitude around him. The spouse can be harmonious, beautiful and like orderliness and beauty from the outside and from the inside. He knows how to see the beauty in everything. Marriage is important to him. You can meet them at a beauty competition, through friends, you can also through your ex, in court.

🦋Jupiter in the 8th house - your spouse can be intense, mysterious, deep, persistent, obsessive, self-sacrificing. Does everything for the people he loves. A spouse can give a lot on privacy, secrets, sharing things with another person. It may be important for them to share everything with you. You can meet them in the financial administration, deeper places, secret places, intimate places, can also be your psychologist or meet them there. You may meet them at a spiritual retreat, religious gathering, or group event where you can meet like-minded individuals.

🪂Jupiter in the 9th house - your spouse can be optimistic, happy, religious, even from another country, adventurous, open, direct, passionate. It can have a lot of life in it. Live in the moment and for the moment. A spouse can give a lot to education, novelty, innovation. Can always support you in everything you do. You can meet them on a trip, adventure parks, church, at someone's wedding, university, lecture.

🎱Jupiter in the 10th house - your spouse can be determined, strong, powerful, serious, responsible, older, more mature, hard-working. It can be someone who is recognizable and a public figure. Jupiter here make spouses more responsible and loving. They just aren't dominant or commanding by nature. On the flip side, no matter what transpires in their lives, these gentlemen will always encourage and believe in their spouses. You can meet them in a public place, public institutions, through parents, father or grandfather.

🪁Jupiter in the 11th house - your spouse is unique, different, dreamy. He always has a set goal and vision. A free person who gives a lot to independence. Can be a person who is sociable or can be a loner. Very smart and intelligent. Can also be famous on social networks. Different from the others. Someone who is smart and intelligent and know all about social media and can also be a logical person who think with logical mind. They may be your best friend. You can meet them through friends, social networks, lonely places, can also be in unpredictable way.

🛼Jupiter in the 12th house - your spouse can be spiritual, dreamy, emotional, compassionate, kind. A person who gives a lot to dreams and fantasy. A person who care for others. Can also be very artistic person. Here it is necessary to make sure that the person is not manipulative or addicted to drugs. The image of a person sometimes is not the way they present themselves at first. you can actually find out all of things about them later. So it's important that you get to know the person. You can meet them at a dance, art club, gallery, hospital, prison.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🫧🦋🛼

[apocalypseornaw]

Please

Sam Winchester x Reader

Sam accidentally hurts you during sex which leads to you practically begging for some form of intimacy once you're healed up

Cursing, bruised cervix mention, sexual happenings

You knew Sam would already up and gone on a run so you didn't try to hide the little moan of pain that escaped you when you tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in. Your lower stomach and back was throbbing in pain and that's what had woke you up. Soreness you were used to, Sam wasn't exactly a small man in any use of the word but pain? You'd never felt like this after sex before.

You slowly pushed the blanket off and gasped from the sharp pain that went through you. You needed to take a hot shower and you'd be fine or that's what you told yourself.

By the time you got out of the shower and was dressed you determined something was wrong outside of soreness. Maybe a trip to the urgent care in town was in order?

------------

You could walk normal enough if you concentrated on it. You headed for the kitchen in search of coffee or Dean and luckily found both. The eldest Winchester smiled when you walked in but one look at your face and his smile dropped "Woah kid. What's wrong?"

You put a finger to your lips "Where's Sam?" You asked in a low voice. He shrugged "He went to grab a shower. Now what is wrong?" You lowered yourself down to sit at the table and smiled at him "Will you grab me a cup of coffee?" He nodded slowly "after you tell me why you look like you went three rounds with a werewolf" you groaned "Coffee first then I promise I will"

Dean grumbled but quickly made your coffee and sat it in front of you then stood there over you with his arms crossed "There's your coffee. Now talk"

You grimaced slightly before saying "I think Sam may have accidentally gotten a little too rough" "He hurt you?" Dean's voice took on a protective edge and you smiled despite yourself "Easy Dean. It wasn't something I didn't enjoy or ask for, repeatedly..it's just...christ...your brother is a big man...and I have a narrow...fuck do I really have to get into descriptive dialog here?"

He chuckled lightly before sitting down across from you "I think I get the picture. You think he bruised you?" You nodded before raising your eyes to meet his "Can you distract so I can go to the urgent care?" He looked towards the hall then back at you "No, I don't think I can"

You let your head drop before you heard Sam's voice "why do you need to go to the urgent care?" You begged Dean with your eyes but he just shrugged helplessly considering you all had went over each others injuries after the hunt it wasn't like you could even play it off as that. He tapped his temple "Migraine?" You choked out and Sam looked from you to Dean before saying "Then you don't need to drive yourself" "i can take her" Dean offered and you shot him a greatful smile.

"Thanks Dean but I can take my girlfriend to the doctor" Sam laughed. You never took your eyes off Dean who shrugged "She was my friend before she was your girlfriend besides don't you have some emails or something to catch up on? I can drop her off, go do a grocery run and pick her up" Sam's shoulders sank slightly before he leaned down to kiss the top of your head "If that's what you want to do baby. Just please call me"

"I will" you promised before standing up and placing a quick kiss to his lips. Dean got his attention while you left the room to go grab your purse.

Sam tried not to worry but when you didn't want him taking you to the urgent care then when you got home and brushed him off with barely a kiss and a "I'm gonna lay down in one of the extra rooms" he knew something was up. When he asked Dean about it, his brother shrugged and suggested washing the bedding in the room the two of you shared in the new lavender detergent you got because it helped migraines.

He walked into your shared room and started to strip the bed. Pillows were first then the blanket, flat sheet, he froze when he saw the blood on the fitted sheet. It wasn't time for your period, with your iud you rarely got one. The urgent care, the wanting to be away from him. Memories of the night before flashed through his head.

He'd gotten rougher than he'd ever had with you but God the noises you'd made, how your nails dug into his shoulders, the moan of his name as you begged him not to stop...

Had he hurt you? He balled up the sheets and took them to the washer, throwing them in went in search of Dean, choosing to confront his older brother before disturbing you.

-----------------

"I fucking hurt the woman I love and you helped her hide it from me?" He hadn't meant to be so blunt about the accusation but it was out in the air and too late to take back. The noise of Dean working under baby stopped before he slid out and looked up at Sam "She didn't want to tell you. I went off of what she wanted"

"How bad?" He asked as Dean sat up, wiping his hands on a rag. Dean shrugged "Doc said it was a mild case of a bruised cervix. Gave her some anti inflammatory meds and antibiotics just incase. Told her a heating pad will be her best friend for the next few days. Said back rubs would help if she'd let ya and gave her a pamphlet of positions for men with bigger builds as the good doc put it"

Sam sat down on the bumper of your car that was parked next to the impala in the garage "is she leaving me?" He dreaded the answer. "What? Of course not man. Shit happens. She loves you."

"I hurt her" "on accident. Believe me little brother if I thought other wise I'd wipe the floor with your ass but I know how you feel about her. Now do like I said, get the bedding clean and smelling good. I'll order her favorite takeout and unless something big pops up we'll stay home for a few days because you know she hates missing hunts. She's strong as hell"

"I never would've hurt her for anything Dean" Sam swore wiping a hand across his face. "I know that. So does she. Now enough of this chic flic crap. Get outta here. Go talk to your girl"

-----------

You were almost asleep when you heard a tentative knock at the door "Dean I'm fine" you hollered but the door cracked open and Sam's head appeared "Sorry, it's me baby" you tried to sit up, ignoring how your lower body strained but Sam was across the room helping you back down into a laying position "Lay down, please"

One look in his eyes told you that he knew. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you" you nearly whispered, dropping your gaze down to your hands. He laughed lightly "Why are you apologizing?"

Your eyes flew up to his face and your heart twisted seeing the emotions working through his eyes from anger to sadness to self loathing "I hurt you, I hurt you then you didn't feel like you could tell me" his voice was so light. "I didn't want to hurt you by telling you. Sam I love you and I know you'd never hurt me on purpose. We just got carried away and accidents happen"

He nodded, eyes now focused on his hands "Dean's going to get your favorite takeout. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" You smiled "Doc said backrubs would help with the pain" he nodded "I can do that" he helped you move to a position that didn't hurt then started to gently rub across your lower back, listening to your breathing to tell him where you needed him the most.

Once you were half asleep he heard Dean's voice so he stopped and looked towards the hall "I'll go grab your food" he helped you sit up and you reached for his hand in an attempt to pull him down into a kiss but he simply left a chaste peck on your cheek before leaving the room.

"I love you" you spoke after him and barely caught his response of "I love you too"

You were healed up, antibiotics had been taken fully and the anti inflammatory meds were no longer needed according to your follow up visit with the doc. You were good to go. The problem? The moment you moved back into your shared room with Sam it seemed like he moved out.

While you were still sore he'd rub your back, offer food or anything he could to help your comfort but once the healing period passed and your walking returned to normal and your movements were no longer strained you felt him pulling away further and further. When you got a clean bill of health at your follow up the doctor might as well have told you that you were radioactive.

---------------

You were in the gym of the bunker, greatful the guys had installed one. The heavy bag was currently your favorite thing in the world. You don't know if you were more embarrassed or angry over how Sam had reacted when Dean had offered to get a second motel room on the hunt the three of you had just come off of.

"Two rooms or.." "One's fine. Make sure there's a couch" Sam had cut Dean off before you could even attempt to open your mouth. You hadn't let it slip to Dean how much your relationship with Sam had changed but living in close quarters there's no way he hadn't picked up on it. He glanced in the rear view mirror and you nodded so he nodded back "ok then. One room. Double beds and a couch, coming right up"

You understood, Sam was afraid to hurt you again but it was starting to cross the line between feeling like he was afraid to hurt you to feeling like he just didn't want you. If you tried to kiss him he'd never let it get heated before having to do something else. If you asked him to go to sleep at the same time as you he all of a sudden needed to research something and the one thing he was in the room and you started to change in front of him he'd stuttered about an email from Garth and left.

"That thing piss you off or something?" You caught the bag before it could swing into you and glanced back at Dean who was standing in the doorway "Or something. What's up?" He shrugged "Sam left on a run. Figured I'd find you here" you sighed "Dean you know I love you but if you crack a joke I may throw a punch at you"

He smirked slightly before raising his hands "I promise I won't. Just wanted to check in on you" you nodded slowly "I'm good. All healed up" "Good to know but not what I meant" he replied and you felt your shoulders sag "He'll hardly kiss me Dean. I get the worry but if there's more than worry, if this has him rethinking us...I need to know" "I don't think that's it.."

"but he won't talk to me. I can't get him to barely look at me" you cut him off and he nodded "Want me to talk to him?" You scrunched up your nose "Thanks but no. I'll figure it out" "Ok. In the meantime take it easy on the heavy bag and if you need a sparring partner let me know" you grinned "Oh think you're up for it?" He laughed "Oh I'd give ya a try" before walking off. You spun back to the bag.

It was getting harder to stay away from you. Sam didn't know if the distance or the look in your eye when he turned you down broke his heart worse. He wanted you, God knows he wanted you with every fiber of his being. He loved you, he was in love with you. Of course he wanted to show you that love physically but the what ifs went through his mind every time he almost got close to you. The blood on the sheets. How painful just walking and simple tasks had been for you for a few days. He wasn't worth the pain. What if he hurt you again? What if it was worse?

He didn't know how to face losing you either. What was he supposed to do?

You were laying in bed with your back facing the door when you heard it creak open. You'd gone to bed an hour before so Sam probably assumed you were asleep. You felt the bed dip behind you as the blanket moved slightly. You could feel his warmth at your back, close but not touching.

You laid there for several breaths before saying "I miss you" after a moment his arm slipped around your waist pulling you back against his clothed chest "I'm here baby" you ran your fingers along his arm and practically quivered from the feeling of his lips teasing your neck with a gentle kiss "I miss all of you Sam"

-----------------

Your breath sharpened quickly as your hips curved back into his, neck arcing to give him better access "Sam please. I need you" the guilt for hurting you mixed with the guilt for neglecting you. He could do this. He felt his fingers shake slightly as his hands cupped your breasts "What do you need baby?" One of your hands came up to cover his before pulling it lower "Touch me. Please"

His fingers pushed the shorts you were wearing aside as his lips found yours. One finger slipped between your folds as his tongue slipped into your mouth, swallowing the moans that fell from you. When your back arched further into him he added a second finger and you gasped, feeling your orgasm building.

You pulled away from his lips in need of air and he moved to work at your neck, kissing and biting the sensitive flesh and he curled his fingers up. When he hit that spot deep inside of you, you reached back to grip his hair "Please don't stop" it was a broken moan but it felt so amazing. When his thumb found your clit that was what was needed to push you over that edge and when your orgasm hit you it was hard enough you melted into the pillow, shaking slightly.

Sam slipped his fingers out of you and when you came back to your senses he was smiling slightly "You ok?" You nodded "I'm perfect" he laughed and started to lean back but you pulled him to you, lips finding his in a demanding kiss that told him you wanted him, all of him.

He groaned into the kiss then his hands found your hips. This time when the two of you broke away from each other he smiled "I love you" you smiled "I love you" then slipped your hand under the sweats he was wearing. He hissed when your hand wrapped around his hard cock "Baby" he warned and you grinned innocently "What?" Before lazily dragging your fingers down his shaft. You could feel his hips tense with the urge to buck into your palm "What positions won't hurt you?" He asked and you turned a little further to be on your side, slipping your shorts off your legs "Easiest one for now"

He slipped his sweats and shirt off then slipped back behind you. You moaned lightly just feeling the head of his cock teasing at your pussy "Please tell me if anything hurts so I can stop" he whispered and you nodded. He reached his hand under your shirt to tease at your nipple as he slowly started to push into you.

Your head fell back against his chest so he used one hand to cup your chin where he could tilt your head back where he could see your face. "Fuck Sam" you whispered once he was completely inside of you. He stilled to let you adjust and caught your lips in a searing kiss "I love you" he whispered against your lips "I love you" you replied.

After a moment he gave a tentative roll of his hips and when a moan escaped your lips he chuckled and repeated the action. "Just like that" you gasped, reaching for his hand that was on your hip, gripping it with your own.

----------

You could feel your orgasm building and knew Sam had to be close but he was holding off on his own pleasure to make sure you were satisfied. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles as his mouth moved to your neck, teeth working your pulse point. When your orgasm washed over you, you came hard enough your vision went soft around the edges. "Fuck Sam. Please tell me you're close" he nodded, pressing his head down between your shoulders "You feel so damn good baby, missed you so much. Fuck I love you" he buried himself inside of you with a final deep thrust and you felt when he came, coating inside of you.

---------------

You laid like that for a few minutes, both of trying to get your breathing back to normal. When he slowly pulled out you gasped lightly and you could see on his face he was worried so you laughed "Not hurt just normal after sex sounds" his face immediately softened and he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He helped you clean up and grabbed you a bottle of water before crawling back into bed with you. When he laid back down you curled up onto his chest then motioned to your body "See? Didn't break" he rolled his eyes but smiled "I just don't ever want to hurt you again" you smiled sleepily "I know and I love you for that. We just have to be careful. You're not a little man Sam Winchester" he grimaced "Should I apologize here or..?" You popped his chest playfully "Oh hush. Let's get some sleep"

[januaryembrs]

JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun

Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons

Length: 1.6k

warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work

“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building. 

“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”

You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing. 

Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.

“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” 

You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story. 

It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care. 

You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were. 

You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them. 

“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,” 

You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene. 

You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown. 

“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”

He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare. 

The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully. 

“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told. 

Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,” 

“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance. 

“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs. 

“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him. 

“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,” 

Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat. 

“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. 

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering. 

“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you. 

You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements. 

Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.

“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll. 

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.

Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story. 

Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded. 

“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,” 

You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters. 

[victoria-grimesss]

Hi ❤️🥰🫶🏻 I really love your writing style and enjoy all your content. Sorry if this is a bothersome question but your name and Norman profile picture made me curious…. Would you be willing to write some headcanons for Daryl? Hope you have a nice week 🙏🏻

Daryl Dixon Headcanons SFW & NSFW

masterlist ->Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader ->Warning: MDNI! fluff and some smut ->A/N: Thanks for the request, TWD was my first fandom so I’m always down to write for it, especially Daryl. :) I just did some general Fem!Reader ones since that's what I mainly write for but DO let me know if there's any other specific ones you'd like to see. I also hope you have a nice week! Sorry this took so long!

SFW:

He would show affection through acts of service, (getting you something you needed during a run, fixing something around the house that you mentioned was broken, or cleaning your gun if you were too busy to do it. He has a lot to think about throughout the day, but he keeps tabs on things you like or need, he’s always thinking about you.

Around Alexandria when you both were there you would both spend a-lot of time in silence together just being in each others presence. He would be working on his bike and you would be reading a book just being together.

In general, there becomes an almost rhythm to your relationship, you walk together, eat together, go on runs together, most of the time you both just enjoy simply being together. Having the privilege to be alive and be next to one other. Eventually people start assuming one doesn't go somewhere without the other, "Y/N and Daryl this, Y/N and Daryl that. It's cute.

Not a fan of PDA, he was never that kind of person but he likes it when you fix a piece of his hair that's out of line, or adjust his vest so it sits better on him. He likes to know you care, he does get butterflies when you call him handsome even though he doesn't show it. Aside from a little smile and a dip of his head, "You don't know what you're talkin' bout girl.

He always admires your strength, you've made it this far and he admires the skills you've picked up along the way. Someone is doing something wrong that you're a pro at? "You're doing that wrong ya know, let me get Y/N, she'll show you how to do it right."

He always had a crush on you, always was looking out for you. You caught his eyes lingering quite some times over the campfire before you were both together, he's look away quick but he knew you saw. What can he say, he loved seeing you blush.

Once you're together he's less reserved about his staring and you'll catch his eyes roaming your body more than a couple times.

Not a master in flirting whatsoever but when he held out his hand, arm all the way outstretched to give you a bundle of wildflowers you were a goner. "Got ya these, said you liked em' found some while I was out."

He's a light sleeper but he loves to lay on your chest and feel you run your fingers through his hair it knocks him out in five minutes minimum.

Will avoid the regular medics in town and just come right to you, you've stitched him up for this long and he likes it when you fix him up and scold him at the same time for not being more careful.

"D, honey this is going to need stiches.."

"I know, you can just do it, you do it the same way as the doctors anyway."

"Fine, just- only if you get some antibiotics. Can't have you dying on me from a fuckin infection."

"Yea whatever you want girl."

Knows you can handle yourself but he always has an eye out for you when you're out on runs or outside the walls.

Boosts his ego when you ask him to flex and you swoon.

You both never got properly married, you haven't gotten around to finding rings but when a new group entered the town you just said you were his wife for simplicities sake and because why not you've been together so long and everyone else thinks of you two married. Loves hearing people call you Y/N Dixon.

NFSW:

He's home late often, it's a normal occurrence but sometimes when he's gone for a good long while and you hear his boots finally trudging up the stairs you get a little giddy, butterflies filling your stomach and you grow warmer just thinking about having him back in bed.

This can go one of two ways; number one is you welcome him into bed slowly, it's raining and he's cold to the bone just wanting to warm up with you. The room is dark and only the moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders as his body leans over yours, hips rolling into you with a smooth and rhythmic motion. His arms caging you in so your whole field of vision and mind is filled with him. His head would dip to your ear, teeth biting at your neck. "Missed ya', thought about you a lot on the way back."

The second way is when he's frustrated, the run didn't go how he wanted, didn't find enough, he's pent up more than usual and you welcome his release of energy with open arms. He's got one hand on your hips and the other gripping the headboard, knuckles turned white from gripping it trying to maintain some kind of composure when he's driving himself deeper inside you, eyes dark as your nails bite at his chest. Damp hair hanging in his face and the room is filled with the noise of your heavy breathing and the wetness between the both of you. "You like that? Fuck, yea ya do."

He prefers being together in the privacy of your own home, where he can put his undivided attention all on you. But that doesn't mean you both don't get creative.. you've fucked in almost every room, you both agreed the attic was just too out there, insulation is the biggest mood killer.

He's always been a man for quick showers, get clean and get out. But one time you were both on a time crunch and you had a great idea to share the shower, save water right? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the soap and water kept gliding over your body had him hard in like 0.5 seconds so needless to say you were late, something about making out underneath the stream of water added something he couldn't get enough of. Bruises on the back of your thighs from him fucking you against the shower wall lingered for some time.

He loves seeing you get ready in the morning, he's got the perfect view from the bed into the bathroom to watch the whole process, sometimes if he's feeling extra needy he'll come into the bathroom and gently bend you over, bringing himself out of his sweatpants and watching your face through the mirror as he slides himself in.

More than once he's thought about you riding him on his bike, with you just wearing his vest. While it's stationary of course, he's not that reckless.

Definitely does not care if you're on your period, you really think a little blood will stop him if you both want each other? Hell no. He didn't understand why you thought it was an issue the first time it came up.

Not incredibly jealous but it creeps in on him sometimes, when a new guy shows you a little more attention than he liked he gets cold with you later that day. Not because he thinks you'll cheat on him or the guy might make a move but that he thinks he himself isn't good enough for you, which you just won't stand for so on a few separate occasions you'll set him down on the couch and get down on your knees and remind him how much you love him.

He's a man that respects his woman so he's more than happy to return the favor, hands held tight on your thighs that are wrapped around his head, his tongue darting around and his lips wrapping around you and pulling his favorite noises from you. "Look at you, fuck, gonna cum for me? Atta girl."

He's careful about where he finishes, he wants nothing more than to dive completely into you and let you take all of him but if you're both not ready for what may come from that he's fine with painting your stomach or more preferably your chest, he's a tits guys for sure.

Aftercare is quiet and calm with him, both of you cleaned up and your head on his chest, the window is open to cool you both down and so the smoke from his after sex cigarette can sneak out.

[gegewrites]

Harvey (SDV)- One Glass Was all it Took (SMUT)

Hi, just dropping off this fanfic for you. Eat it up. hope yall enjoy I started this legit at 10am TODAY. This is the fastest I’ve written in a bit and the first fic I’ve finished in months (I’m so sorry)

The Harvey brain rot is real.

4-7-24

5.2k words

Your pov-

The sun was setting and I was relaxing on the porch swing, looking at the sky changing colors. It was a relaxing day, it rained in the morning, which made it easy to pet and collect from the animals, but annoying to  harvest the crops that were ready. It stopping raining at about four, and by then I was already done for the day. I contemplated going fishing or heading to the mines for a few hours to make up some of that wasted time but I ended up just cleaning and re-arranging some of the house. The birds were singing, still warm out but a cool breeze drifted through the trees. It was perfect out. 

"Enjoying the sunset?" I heard Harvey ask, I looked over and he was by the produce bin. I wasn't expecting him at all.

"Yeah, so pretty tonight." I smiled. He didn't come up into the porch, he leaned against the railing in front of me, a bottle of wine in hand being held out to me.

"I had to go to Zuzu City today, I picked this up on my way out. Think you'll enjoy it." He smiled as I leaned off the swing and grabbed it from him.

"This is my job." I giggled. It's a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, the label boasting a 10 year age and top quality French grapes.

"Just a little bit of payback for all the stuff you've brought me." He smiled,"I-"

"Should I get glasses?" I asked,"you don't have to leave so soon do you?"

"I can stay for a bit." He leaned off the railing as I stood up.

"Perfect, come in."

Half and hour later-

"…Just a bunch of city and small town doctors and donors looking to shell out money. If I was convincing enough hopefully a few donors will step up and donate some money to the clinic.” He took a sip from his glass and looked at me,” It's a decent drive to the city, i don’t mind it. I use to intern at the Zuzu hospital, but when I heard they didn't have a doctor in this town, that the other towns also driving to the city for healthcare, I settled in." His eyes looked away from the now dusky blue sky and looked at him, which were watching him intently," why are you here? Besides your grandfathers passing, I don’t think you’ve told me.”

"I wasn't doing so well back home...so when we did get the news grandpa died my parents saw it as a way for me to get a new fresh start...and it worked, but boring I'll be honest. Three years, everyday almost the same." I shrugged my shoulders and finished the last of my glass. We both were only on the first glass, talking more than drinking.

"I get that. In a town so small it's easy to fall into a repetition...only reason why I've kept my car. I could sell it, put that money into the clinic, but when people in the outside towns needs assistance and they can't get here I get to switch it up and go to them."  He looked down at his glass and then back to me,"it's important to find joy in daily life, especially when you're life is a lot of physical work....its also important to find the time to relax."

"Yeah, but there's always something that has to get done over here or someone needs something." His hand came down and sat just above my knee.

"You need to start making time for yourself." His face was serious, but not scolding. His brows lightly furrowed together, but his eyes held a caring look.

"Doctors orders?" I smiled, a chuckle trailing behind the words and I felt my cheeks flush. Luckily it was darker out but the porch light was still on.

"Doctors orders." He smiled, his eye contact was held with mine. He did look like he was contemplating something, his eyes slightly looking down below mine before locking back with mine.

Usually it would take me a third glass to get the confidence to make any sort of move, but over the few years I've been here, the conversations we've had, professional settings and non professional, it gave me the confidence.

The swing wasn't big, our legs were comfortably touching, and his hand still sat on my leg. I pushed up just a bit, my lips connecting to his, my heart was pounding out of my chest, but he returned it quickly, the hand on my thigh came to my check and my heart rate relaxed a bit.  His mustache tickled my nose but I didn't mind it at all. We both tasted like wine and I heard his glass tink against the table in his side, his newly free hand softly held my other cheek, mine still holding my glass. He was the first to pull away from the slow kiss.

"(y/n)..."  he whispered before pulling back more and my heart sped up, awaiting rejection,"are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, Harvey." I replied quickly but not forcefully, he took the glass from my hand and placed it with his on the table behind him.

I could tell he was thinking, quickly contemplating the decisions he could make. He turned back to me, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

"I'm a thirty four year old doctor stuck in place." His thumb brushed my cheek as he spoke.

"And im a twenty five year old who couldn't hold down a job long enough to have a chance to be stable." I confessed,"my last relationship ended with cops and a restraining order."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But (y/n), you said you're bored, you're bored here... I watch the history channel and live quietly."

"You don't get it, Harv. I'm bored cause I'm alone, everyday I wake up and it's just me, you're stuck in place cause it's just you. Don't humans need others around? We are social animals."  He let out a quiet and sharp exhale from him nose, hand still in my cheek that didn't even realize I've relaxed into.

"There are others-"

"Please Harvey, I've already tried, they've all got their own dreams in places I've already tried to live and couldn't....i want quiet but I don't wanna be alone."  His hand slid away from my cheek, just to hold onto my chin,"there's no reason to not try."

"You have to understand that I'm still your doctor and if it doesn't work-"

"If it doesn't work my ass Harvey." I grabbed lightly onto his other wrist,"I've never been more sure of anything.."I leaned forwards,"and you haven't been only  charging me half for no reason, don't think I haven't noticed. You can say you're not the right one but it's obvious Harv-"

He cut me off with his lips, his hand coming to my waste, pulling my body a bit closer to his. I kissed him back quickly not wasting any time, my body was twisted a bit, my hands held onto his jacket covered shoulders. Our lips moved in sync, tongues tangling with each other, heat and want radiating from the both of us.

My hand grabbed onto his tie as I slid off the swing and stood up, our lips didn't disconnect, his big hands sat on my waist as he sat up higher before standing. He was taller than me, so he was bowed down to keep the kiss going and my back pressed against the railing of the porch. He pulled away, and stood up straight, looking down at me. His hand left my waist and he pushed his glasses back up. God he was handsome.

I decided to ditch the glasses that were on  the table and lead him inside by his tie.

When we got to my bedroom he took off his jacket and I loosened his tie before I started undoing his belt while he kicked off his shoes. His hands coming to the bottom of my shirt, slipping it off of my body, dropping it to the floor as he walked me back, the back of my legs feeling the mattress and he unclipped my bra. My thighs pressed together a bit, feeling that pulse between my legs and myself getting wetter. He slid it down my arms and I sat down, his hands running down my body as he slowly got down onto his knees.

"This bruise is concerning."  He ran his thumb on the right side of my ribs and I rolled my eyes.

"I can't even feel it Harv." I rolled my eyes with a smile and cupped his cheek, his cheek and jaw was a bit tickly. He placed a kiss to the top of my chest, kissing my collarbones and then down between my breasts,"if you want to know it's from my goat getting too excited and accidentally butting me."

"I'm glad.." his hand cupped my breast, fingers massaging it, my nipple pressed into his palm as he placed a kiss on my other. My hand sat on the back of his neck, my nails lightly scratching his scalp, his shaggy hair between my fingers," it's nothing serious…but goats are pretty strong,” he looked up at me,”could’ve broken a rib.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as his lips returned to my breast. I propped up on my left arm, his tongue swirled around my nipple, teeth teasing it lightly and I grinded down to on the mattress from the pressure of need building up inside of me. While he places kisses to my breasts his hands came down and undid the button of my jeans, and unzipped them. He pushed up slightly placing a kiss on my sternum and I laid back on my forearm. He hooked his fingers into my jeans, I raised my hips a bit and he pulled them down slowly, my panties going with them. His eyes locked with mine, until the fabric fell to the floor, and now I was naked with him between my legs.

Both of us paused. Suddenly I wish I had drank another glass. His eyes trailed down my body, taking it in.

“Harvey?” I asked, and he looked up at me, his look alone told me I was the one feeling off.

“Sorry…taking it in now.” He pushed my thighs out, spreading my legs wider, and he grew taller, kneeling only on one knee now,”once these glasses come off I can’t exactly see you the best.”

I felt my face blush as his hand ran along the inside of my thigh, and my pussy tighten from his touch. It’s been awhile, a good four years since I’ve been with something other than a vibrator. I felt his thumb slide up my lips, feeling how wet I’ve gotten, then his thumb slipped between and immediately found my clit. My lips parted the moment his thumb pad touched my clit, he slowly and softly dragged his thumb in a circle against it and my head lulled back a bit and I let out a sigh. He trailed a few kisses on the inside of my thigh, mustache tickling and dragging against my skin. His thumb worked a bit faster and my thighs quivered a few times.

“Harvey please.” I pushed out with a breath and I heard him hum lightly. His thumb left my clit and I felt his middle finger circle my wet hole before dipping in causing a moan to rumble in my throat as I bit my lip. His fingers were nice, he had nice hands at that. His fingers were long kind of thick, but nimble none the less. He curled his finger to the curve of my walls as he slowly dragged it in and out. I didn’t realize where he was till I felt the left side of the bed dip a bit.

“Absolutely soaked.” He whispered into my ear and a shiver ran down my spine and I tightened around his finger,”you haven’t had anything in a while, huh?”

“Too busy..mm, too tired at the end of the day.” I answered, feeling him kiss my neck, his stubble scratching lightly at my skin.

He kissed my shoulder with a hum, his middle finger leaving me, but coming back with his ring finger in tow. His fingers slipped right back in, my head couldn’t help my fall back, the front of my neck completely bared to him. He curled his fingers to my anatomy again and he sped up the slightest. I could feel how wet I was, it was almost embarrassing, but come on…it’s Harvey.

My hips rolled into his palm and his fingers found my gspot, I bit down onto my lips, my eyes fell close.

“Right theere.” I moaned, and he changed his fingers positions, a deeper curl. I heard something light fall onto the bed and my eyes opened the littlest. I saw his glasses. I raised my head, timing perfectly with him lifting my left leg onto his shoulder. His stubble rubbing against the inside of my thigh, before feeling his tongue against my clit, he kept a steady pace and motion with his fingers. His tongue slowly lapped at my clit,my hand finding the top of his hair, not tugging but sitting in it, holding it out of his face. I was breathing heavy, breathy moans just slipping out. His lips latched on to clit, a mix of licking and sucking, making my body tense and my moans grow louder.

“Oh God.” I moaned out, my heel digging into his back just below his shoulder blade,”Fuuuck Harv.”

He pushed up onto the bed, his left arm wrapped around the front of my thigh, holding the inside of it with his hand and he pumped his fingers deeper and faster. I heard a groan erupt from him as his tongue dipped in with his fingers before sliding back to my clit, giving it a harsh suck. My hands gripped into his hair, my body pushing into his. My head felt light, my thigh tensing in his grip, being held open to avoid squeezing his head. The way he was circling, sucking, and licking my clit roughly paired with his fingers “come hither” and just how deep his fingers were inside of me I was on the verge of cumming. I could feel my slick dripping down my ass, definitely soaked in the comforter, my walls tightened around his fingers. My moans were more present, louder, and longer. My body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible.

“I’m gonna cum Harv.” I whined out, releasing his hair for a second before griping back on. My thighs started twitching and the upper half of my body curling forwards yet my head lulling back,”I’m gon-gonna cum baby.”

He didn’t change was he was doing, and my toes curled, my eyes rolling back, my teeth digging into my bottom lip as my body tightened. that knot in my abdomen snapping, cumming on his fingers. We kept his pace steady as I rode out my release, only slowing down when I started whimpering and hips near spasming into his face.

I fell onto my back, as his fingers slid out of my pussy, his tongue lapping up my release. His hand left the inside of my thigh, and I heard his glasses drag towards him, before wrapping around it again. He placed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, his mustache wet. I was catching my breath, coming back to reality when my thigh dropped from his shoulder and I felt his thumb swipe across my bottom lip. I opened them and his finger laid on my tongue, I closed my lips around them, cleaning my cum off of them.

I opened my eyes when he slid his fingers out of my mouth. He was standing in front of the bed, looking down at my pussy, the bulge in his dark brown corduroys prominent. I sat up, and pulled him to me by his tie, kissing him heatedly, tasting myself on his tongue. My fingers started undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of jeans and pulling away from him, a light bite dragging his lip before letting go. His lips were pink, so was his face. He undid his tie enough to get it off over his head and took off his long sleeve as I placed kisses down his stomach, slowly unzipping his pants.

He wasn’t a “fit” man, he had a dad bod but no kids(not yet), but he was attractive and sexy as hell nonetheless. He brushed the hair out of my face as I kissed down his happy trail. I slid down to my knees and he took a step back. I looked up at him through my lashes as I hooked my fingers into the waist on his pants and boxer band, and slid them down. His cock sprung out and I stopped pulling down his pants. He was decent size, long enough to where he wouldn’t be able to get all of it in but most, but he was thick. It made sense for a man as meaty as he is.

I kissed up his thigh, which had impeccable grinding quality. His fingers carded through my hair, my hands sat on his hips as I kissed up his body till I was standing, a bit wobbly, but his hand came around to my back.

“I wanna ride you.” I kissed his chest and he chuckled, his hand sat on the side of my neck and lower part of my jaw, his thumb brushed over my jaw, before he angled my face to look up at him.

“You can, but you have to go easy.” I gave him a pouty furrowed brow look and he smirked with fondness,”you haven’t had sex in awhile. Feeling how tight you were-and just with fingers, you have to take it easy.”

“You saying I’m too small for your cock, Doctor?” I whispered intimately and I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy toes, my chest pressing into his, his cock pressed against the front of my thigh. His face flushed even more as his hands held onto my waist. My hand came around to the back of his head and I pulled his head closer to mine and I whispered,”guess it’s a good thing I’m absolutely soaked for you.”

He let out a breath I don’t think he realized he was holding in and I lowered down onto my soles. He hasn’t gotten a moment to speak, this pussy has his tongue caught. My fingers dragging against his skin as I backed up and crawled onto the bed. I propped up onto my arms, facing him, and spread my legs open, my heels stable on the edge of the bed.

“Do you wanna be the one to stretch this pussy then?” It looked like his brain stopped working for a second, before has hand gripped onto his cock, his tongue quickly swiping along the bottom of his top lip and he smirked lightly, more adoration then the lust his eyes held.

“I probably shouldn’t, no condoms.” He crossed his arms, oh he looked good.

“What did you go into the city and fuck a stripper?” I joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“We’re unprotected.” His hands moved to his waist and I looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

“Harvey…you’re the dude who gives me my birth control every month.” He rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m aware of that, It’s still unsafe nonetheless.” His hands sat on my knees before grabbing the back of my calves.

“Live a little, just for tonight.” His grip tightened on my calves and he looked to the side and then back to me before pulling me edge of the bed, I fell onto my back as he held my calfs on his waist, his cock sitting right over my soaking cunt. His head tapping against it as it bounced lightly.

“For tonight.” His hand let go of my calf and I held it against his waist. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his caressed my cheek, him thumb brushed against the cheek bone. He used that same hand to drag the head of his cock between my slick lips, running it against my clit, then rubbing his tip against my needy hole, he watched his cock slide between my lips before he looked up at me.

“Need a pillow.” I quickly grabbed the fluffiest one from behind me and handed it to him. I tightens my legs around him but he peeled them off,”where’s your bathroom?”

“Why?” I asked sitting up.

“Just need a towel.” I just fell in love with him. Luckily there was a bathroom in my bedroom so I pointed to the door and he walked over. Man has a nice ass, he is just good looking in general.

He came back with one of my thick towels, dark grey. He folded it into two and put it over the towel. I laid back down, holding my knees close to my chest and he grabbed my calf’s, spreading my legs and placing my lower half onto the pillow.

“That’s better.” His hands guided my legs around his waist, spitting into his palm and stroking his cock. I swallowed and bit down onto my lower lip as he stroked his cock through my lips. He was right, this angle felt better. His tip circled my entrance and he looked at me,”you ready?”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded and he paused for a moment before he started pushing the tip in. I immediately gripped onto the mattress below me my eyes squeezing shut, he was so right. He always right.

“I think I-“ he stopped pushing in mid tip.

“No no, just keep going…Fuck Harv.”

“Just tell me if it hurts, I’ll go easy.” He started pushing it in again. My walls stretching around him yet clamping down on him. It was a mix of absolute pleasure and pain. A deep throaty grain erupted out of his chest, I opened my eyes to see his head tilted back before coming back to look down at his cock stretching into me. I when he bottomed he pressed deeper into me and pushed out a shakey moan from my lips.

He stopped for a moment, giving my body a chance to relax around him, his hand ran up and down my thigh comfortingly as I breathed in and out, my brows twisted together.

“Move, please” I said softly and he did just that, he slowly slid his cock out of me, even his tip, and slid it back inside. Another moan left my left, my lips stayed open as he pushed in deeper this time, pulling out to his tip and pushing back in. He kept it slow and steady, listening to the whines and groans that fell from my lips.

“Shit (y/n).” He groaned out, I felt his thumb press against my clit, rubbing tight and slow circle against it, my legs tightening around his waist. He moved his hips a bit faster, his cock dragging against my walls. His thumb abandoned my clit, and his hands grabbed onto my hips, holding them tightly, fingertips pressing deeply into my ass.

“Fuck me Harvey.” I breathed out.

“How do you want it, darling?” I pressed my lips together and a small giggle sounded in my throat from the pet name that fell from his lips, I felt my body curl a bit as his hand touched my check. His tone was as smooth as whiskey dripping with lust,”tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Faster…” I swallowed and took a breath, my voice a bit shakey,”and deeper.”

His movements did become a bit faster, still focused on not hurting me, but he did pressed his cock deeper into me on each thrust.

“Good good.” My lips fell open as he started thrusting harder, his tip starting to hit that spot in me,”oooh yess.”

“found it?”

“Uuhuh.” I moaned, and he thrusted his tip against it again, but harder, to confirm and it was confirmed with an unsolicited moan.

“You’re taking me so well, (y/n). So daaamn good.” He groaned, his thrusts stayed sharp and even but he sped up more, rocking his hips into my pelvis. I tightened around him getting lost in the feeling of his tip sliding through my walls, the sound of his skin now slapping against mine, and the way groans and light moans fell from his lips. My heels dug into his back and his name trailed out of my lips. I felt my slick drip down my ass and into the towel, hearing how wet his motions sound now. I felt his body lean forwards, his thrusts kept steady, but slowed down a bit, fucking deeply into me, his cock grinding perfectly against my g-spot now.

“Oooh! Har-Harvey!” I loudly moaned out, it didn’t hurt, well a little bit, but it felt too good to complain. He was tall so his forearms laid flat on the bed trapping my head. He placed a kiss on my forehead, my hands wrapping around his back and gripping onto his shoulders. I couldn’t help but moan Into his ear, erotic moans falling from my lips as my pussy got wetter.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock like this.” He strained out, my nails were digging into his skin as he sped up more. My eyes clamped shut, sob like moans ripping out of my throat, that heat building up in my lower abdomen telling me I was the verge of spilling over.

“Ha-Harvey,” I breathed out, my words whined ,”I’m gon-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, darling.” He groaned into my ear. His breath was hot against my skin, and the erotic groans falling from his lips were a perfect music to my ears. My left hand slid off his back, and I felt his weight shift, and I peeled my eyes open. He didn’t have his glasses on, and he was propped up on left arm, his right hand went back to my pussy, his hand pressed down on my pelvis, his thumb rubbing my clit quickly.

“Harvey! Aaaah fuuuuck!” My back arched up and a moan tore out of me, as my orgasm ripped through me. I saw starbursts behind my closed eyes, a rush of heat covering my whole body as it tensed up. My walls clamped around him as my right hands nails scraping against his back and he let out a strained groan.

“That’s it…That’s it.” He cooed, and I felt

His cock twitch inside of me as he fucked me through my high.

He kept his pace as steady as he could, going back to standing, his thumb abandoned my clit. I looked at him with heavy lids, watching his face,his glasses were back on, his lips were parted and his eyes watched his cock thrust in and out of me , and how his hands gripped onto my thighs.

“Come on Harv.” My tone tripped with ecstasy, as I propped up on my arms a bit to watch him and his body better, his eyes met mine, half lidded, before looking down, watching the way my chest moved from his thrusts,”cum for me Harvey.”

I felt his cock twitch more inside of me, his thrust still felt good and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, his neck straining, his body tightening, and I bit my lip at the sight of him on the verge of coming undone, but there was something holding him back, himself really.

“You-you can cum inside of me Harv..” I breathed out and swallowed and he locked his eyes with mine,”you can cum wherever.”

I relaxed my legs grip on his waist, and with those words he finally came undone. He slid out of me quickly, his hand stroking his cock roughly, spirting white cum onto my stomach. His head lulled back as he stroked his cock, slowing it down that last bit dripped down the bottom of his head and onto my stomach.

He breathed heavily as my legs fell from his waist and he sat down in the edge of the bed and fell into his back next to me. I closed my legs and r looked up and over at him, hand on his chest, catching his breath. I kissed his shoulder and he looked over at me, a blissed out look on his face and I smiled.

“You got game Harv.” I giggled and looked down at my stomach, and he sat up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” He leaned to me and placed a kiss on my lips before standing up, and proceeded to do just that.

The next day, noon

Harvey slept over last night, but when I woke up at six he was already gone, there was a note on the kitchen table in his hand writing that advised me to hydrate and thanking me for the good night. The wine glasses that were left outside were clean and on the drying rack as well. I had already gotten what I had to get done outside done, but it was another rainy day, absolutely down pouring. I had to change my clothes even though I had on my rain jacket, so I decided today would be a day that I would take to myself.

I was laying in the couch reading, some cable show playing on the tv. My reading was interrupted by a knock on the door, so I placed my marker in the book and got up quickly and headed to the door. I unlocked it and opened it.

“Hi.” Harvey smiled, one hand held a soaked umbrella, his other was behind his back.

“That umbrella didn’t do you too well.” I giggled, seeing the rain spots on his button up, he looked at his shirt and chuckled.

“I guess not, at least I’m not soaked though…I’m sorry I walked out early, there was a shipment coming to the clinic at six thirty I had to be there for.” He explained.

“That’s alright, thanks for cleaning the glasses.” I wasn’t in front of the doorway he could walk in but he hasn’t,”what do you need Harv?”

“I…I wanted to give you this.” The hand that was behind his back came out and revealed a gorgeous bouquet. My lips fell over in shock and soon those like formed the biggest smile. My cheeks flushed as I took it from him, I looked at it for a few seconds before looking back at him,”you’re right…maybe this could work.”

[rdr2gifs]

Each time Arthur has helped someone without expecting payment (that I can remember) because I’ve seen some weird takes circling around about how Arthur only cares about money/doesn’t help people (yet again)

He helped a city photographer take pictures and acted as his protector because he liked him

He helped a doctor retrieve a stolen wagon full of medicine, he wasn’t even asked to do so, he did it out of his own good will

He wanted to make an old cranky man happy and proposed finding his lost trinkets for him

He helped Deborah MacGuiness find dinosaur bones out of curiosity. He didn’t receive any financial reward for it. Just a few trinkets and he was satisfied

He risked his life for Marko Dragic’s experiments (his main motivation in this mission was again, curiosity)

He rescued a boy being held hostage by the gunsmith in Rhodes

He rescued people from being trafficked and gave them a large sum of money (he could’ve kept it for himself) for a better life

He helped Mr. White and Mr. Black gain freedom and even helped them again after they got themselves into trouble

He rescued Charles Chatenay on at least 3 different occasions

He instantly hurried to retrieve Sister Calderon’s cross even though he has never met her before

In his first encounter with Marjorie and Bertram, he helps to calm Bertram down and is understanding even though Bertram gave him trouble. He even puts the bartender in his place after he speaks about Bertram in a degrading manner

He agreed to help a man get rid of nigh folk occupying his property and after he payed him with only a rat pelt, Arthur didn’t get angry and still asked him if he’d be really fine on his own after knowing he wouldn’t be able to pay

He let a homeless man hug him and listened to what he has to say

He helped to save Jamie from becoming a cult member and stopped him from taking his life

He helped a boy look for his lost dog

He saved an injured man’s life after driving him to a doctor

He helped a woman get rid of a body after she claimed she had to kill the man in self-defence

He donated to the poor and even to build a shelter for war-veterans

He taught Charlotte how to survive on her own

He tried to save a crazed village out of his own good will

He helped a war veteran retrieve his prosthetic leg and helped him hunt

He helped a man look for his lost friend in the snowy mountains

He helped Rain’s Fall retrieve sacred items important to his people

He helped to retrieve stolen medical supplies for the Wapiti tripe

He saved Captain Monroe’s life after hearing he was in danger

He helped Beau and Penelope escape from their terrible families

He has saved many hunters from getting mauled, given many ladies a ride home, saved people from dying of poisoning, helped gather herbs, helped a lost New Yorker find his way to the town, helped save many people’s lives (lady being held hostage in her own house in Lemoyne, folk getting tortured by The Murfees or Lemoyne Raiders etc.)

Let’s not forget the fact that Arthur is a provider for over 20 people. He cannot be running around and risking his life for free for everyone he meets. He needs money. Even so, he has helped all the people above for no reward and out of his own free will. When I see someone say that Arthur is only motivated by money and never helps people otherwise, I just instantly assume they stormed through the story and didn’t pay any attention. The encounters listed above make up the majority of chance encounters/side quests and in almost all of them he is helping people. 80% of these are also pre-diagnosis.

He has a hard time accepting any compliments or gratitude for his good deeds and always downplays himself. Even in the main story he is never thinking about himself and he always puts others first.

“You did not ask for anything, you only gave”

The encounters where he does require payment pale in comparison to those in which he doesn’t, and even so they are very justified as they are often dangerous, time consuming or straight up ridiculous. It’s weird to assume Arthur only helps people for money when he doesn’t want to deliver love letters, interview dangerous people and sneak into heavily guarded properties for free.

[acewritesfics]

A Wedding After All  | Tommy Shelby 

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Pregnant!Reader 

Request: No.  

Warnings: Alludes to cheating [I do not condone cheating]. Pregnancy. Past childhood sweethearts. Brief mention of war. One f*ck.

Word Count: 2,103

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Is Tommy in his office, Polly?" Y/N asks as she approaches the woman who has always treated her like a daughter. Her cheeks are flushed after walking as fast as she could to the Shelby Company's headquarters. She's come straight from the doctor's office. 

Polly cast a worried glance towards the younger woman. "You alright, Love?" 

"I need to talk to Tommy," she says, her gaze darting towards Tommy's office. "It's important that I speak with him." 

"He ought to return at any moment. I'm sure you can tell me whatever you need to tell him," Polly remarks as she sees Y/N beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. 

"Sorry, but I can't. I won't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." Y/N is unable to calm herself as nauseous feeling settles in her stomach. 

The Shelby family's Matriarch felt unsure how to handle the current situation she finds herself in. If something bothered her, Y/N would always tell her. She never went to Tommy first with anything since their relationship ended years ago.  

Polly knew the woman Y/N's father married a month after his wife died, and it came as no surprise how viciously she treated the teenage girl, from spreading rumours to physically beating her, while her good for nothing father did nothing to stop his new wife. 

Polly immediately scoured the entire town of Small Heath for Y/N and welcomed her into her home once she learned that she was kicked to the streets when she was fifteen. 

It wasn't long before Polly introduced her to her brother's family. When she met the Shelby siblings, they forged an immediate bond. Ada, the only girl, took to her the most, relieved to have another girl to talk to. The two women are still as thick as thieves to this day. They have a sisterly relationship that not even Tommy could disrupt. 

From the moment they met there was an obvious immediate attraction between Y/N and Tommy.  It didn't take long for their friendship to grow into a romantic love. Their romance was a whirlwind of passion, excitement and love. The two of them only had eyes for each other. Everyone knew she was Tommy's girl, and no one dared to touch her. Even though Tommy had little in common with his father, the Shelby name came with a not-so-great reputation.  

Tommy and Y/N weren't hesitant to call each other out on their foolishness, their confrontations occasionally attracting unwelcome attention. But they never went to bed angry with each other, which sometimes resulted in restless nights spent talking and making up. He had been her first love. 

However, their romance eventually ended when Y/N travelled to London shortly after turning 21 to pursue becoming a nurse. Tommy wanted to promise that he'd wait for her to return to Birmingham because he knew she was the one who he was supposed to marry and spend the rest of his life with. She urged him not to make any promises to her, fearing that their parting would only cause more heartbreak. But Tommy never gave up on her, writing almost every day to persuade her that everything would work out between them. They both held hope that it would until the letters eventually became less frequent as they both became busy with their lives.   

The war broke out two years into her training, and she and many other nurses were deployed to France to care for their countries' wounded. There, she was reunited with her former love. In the midst of tending to the soldier's wounds, their love for one another was rekindled. 

But as the days passed, Tommy's once beautiful vibrant blue eyes turned dull, emotionless, and void as they witnessed people die in the most horrific ways. When the war was over and they were sent home, they went their separate ways once more. 

It wasn't until six months ago that Y/N returned Birmingham. She'd been assigned to work in Small Heath's hospital. She preferred working at this hospital to the one she previously worked at in London. It moved at a slightly slower pace which she enjoyed.  

She reconnected with Polly and the brothers once she had settled back in and called Ada at least three times a week to keep her updated now that she was living in London with her son. Despite Ada's displeasure at Y/N wanting to return to Birmingham, the younger of the two women supported her decision knowing that their hometown was where Y/N belonged. 

Y/N had missed Polly and the brothers and was overjoyed to have them back in her life, as well as to be back in theirs. 

She enjoyed being back in Small Heath, even if her heart was crushed by her own past decisions. She assumed she was over Tommy, that all they'd ever be is friends, and that all her old sentiments for him had vanished. Tommy was her first and only love, so learning that he was now engaged saddened her. Polly attempted to convince her that Tommy never stopped loving her and that this marriage was a waste of time and money once he realises, he's making a mistake.  

But all Y/N saw was the way Tommy's soon-to-be bride looked at him, the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, the way he makes her smile. It was the same way she would look at him. The only difference was he never looked at her the same way he looked at Y/N. He never looked at anyone the way he was before the war. Y/N didn't know if Tommy loved his fiancée, but he was marrying her and that was enough for Y/N to know that her and Tommy will never be more than friends again.  

Y/N didn't want to get in the way of their relationship, so she kept her distance from Tommy. Which had been working until one night nine weeks ago. 

Polly pulls out a cigarette, places it between her lips, and lights it while she continues to watch Y/N pacing the room. She takes in the younger woman's form, seeing the small curvature of her belly as her hands rest over her stomach as if protecting it. 

Then it dawns on her.  

Leaving her cigarette in the ashtray, she moves towards Y/N and stops her from pacing a hole into the floor. Y/N seems surprised as Polly reaches out and gropes her breasts, feeling them for a few seconds before letting go. 

"You're with child," she exclaims, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. She is not a fool. This baby can only belong to one man, and it would be the push the former lovers need to come back together. Tommy, after all, would never abandon the woman who is carrying his child, especially when it's the woman he's been hopelessly in love with since he was sixteen 

"Fuck me," Y/N murmurs more to herself since she should have known Polly would notice. Nothing can ever get past the Romani woman. "Please don't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." 

"My lips are sealed," she assures as she places her hand to Y/N's belly.  "Is she Tommy's then?" 

"She?" Y/N raises an eyebrow in response. She wasn't going to bother responding to Polly question since she already knew the answer. 

"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Polly beams, eliciting a smile from Y/N, who appears to be more at ease. "She'll be beautiful, Y/N, and you'll love her more than you've ever loved anyone, even Thomas. There is no deeper love than that between a mother and her daughter." 

They both have a saddened expression on their faces as they recall who they've lost. Y/N lost her mother, and Polly lost her daughter, but they found what they were looking for in each other. Polly always believed that her daughter and Y/N's mother brought them together knowing that they needed one other. 

"You understand that she'll call you nan, right?"  Y/N says, making Polly smile this time. 

"Of course she is," Polly says, hugging her adopted daughter. She lets go of her, looking over her shoulder as someone walks into the office. 

Y/N becomes tense once more. She doesn't have to turn around to find out who it is since she can always feel Tommy's presence before she sees him. She turns around with a timid smile, the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying as she swallows the lump in her throat. 

"Y/N," he says a little taken aback to see her. 

"Good afternoon, Thomas," she says formally, trying not to seem too anxious. Since the night they spent together nine weeks ago, the two have barely spoken. Polly simply stands between them, smiling. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you." 

"I do," he replies and leads her into his office hearing the urgency in her voice. 

He glances worriedly at Y/N after closing the door. "Is everything okay?" 

"I saw the doctor this morning."  

As he gets closer to her, he grows increasingly worried. "Are you ill?" 

"What I have does cause sickness." She claims unable to look at him. The amount of thinking she did on her walk to the office did not help her at all. 

"What do you have?" He tilts her head so she can look at him. He notices tears welling up in her eyes. 

She takes a deep breath in and out, gathering all her courage to tell him as h er tears begin to fall. "I'm pregnant, Tommy." 

The Peaky Blinder remains calm as thoughts start running through his head. His eyes never leave hers. Y/N searches his eyes trying to find a hint of what he could be feeling or thinking. 

"You are the only one I've been with, Tommy. The baby is yours and I know you are to be married so if you want, I will leave. I'll go back to London and raise her by myself. I just thought since you're the father, you have the right to know and decide what you want to do," She rambles. Removing Tommy's hands off her face, she steps back from him, her arms going around her stomach, bracing herself for his rejection.  

"Or," Tommy finally speaks. "Or, you can stay here, I can marry you and we can finally be a family." 

"Tommy, you're engaged to someone else," She looks at him as though he's delusional, not believing what she's hearing. 

"Not a single day goes by where I don't think about you and what it would be like if we stayed together," he admits. "Because of that, I ended my engagement. I can't marry someone else when the only woman I'll ever love is standing right there in front of me." 

"Tommy, I-"  

"We are going to get married, we are going to have this baby and we are going to be a family," he steps towards her cupping her face again. This thumbs brush away her fallen tears. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispers before kissing her. 

"I love you too, Tommy," she replies when the kiss is broken and Tommy pulls away from her. She watches him go over to his desk, pull something out of the draw and walk back over to her. In his hand is a red velvet ring box. He opens it revealing the gold ring with three red ruby stones surrounded by diamonds. She gasps recognizing his mother's engagement ring. "Your mother's ring." 

"I've been saving it for you," he tells her. "You're the only one I want to wear it. Will you do me the honour in becoming my wife?" 

She nods her head, as the tears start to fall harder. Tommy smiles a rare smile, one that was only reserved for her, and slides the ring onto her finger before he kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms go around his shoulders. 

"Well it's about bloody time," Arthur's gruff voice comes from the doorway causing the reunited couple to part. 

Y/N's cheeks flush red. Tommy can't contain the smile on his face. "Brother, there's going to be a wedding after all." 

"Who's getting married?" John asks missing what Arthur just walked in on. The younger of the three takes in the scene before him, seeing Y/N and Tommy wrapped up in each other. "You two are getting married?" he then asks, looking confused. 

"We're getting more than that," Tommy smiles lovingly at the woman who stole his heart when they were sixteen. 

[froggoon]

She's my Angel: Meet the Family Pt.2 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! pt.1

WC: ~2,709

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Allusions to sex, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers.

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Five and you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that one would think the two of you had known each other for years. You started sleeping in the same bed together, getting ready together, eating together, and spending time together. Your routine had started to fall into place.

Somedays Five would ask you to show him your abilities. He was always astounded at how powerful you were. You could use shadows to teleport, physically manifest, store objects, and create weapons. To the regular person, or to anyone like his deceased father, these powers would intimidate them, scare them. But Five wasn’t scared of you,. Slowly you had become his Angel. Five found comfort in you, someone who would stick with him while his family scattered after his sacrifices.

“Come on Angel, I’m taking you out today.”

“Out?” You tilted your head.

“Yes like…a date” he blushed. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and black slacks, the shirt was pressed clean with no wrinkles, and the top 3 buttons were undone.

“Go put on your prettiest dress and some nice shoes.” He kissed the top of your head and watched you run off. Anyone who could see the two of you could see his adoration for you. You lived up to your nickname being a small beacon of light in his dark mind.

Despite your growing "relationship" Five still had his worries. It had been 2 weeks since he met you and he wasn’t any closer to finding who had taken you or figuring out your true identity. He had only know a few things from what you told him.

You had grown up in a lab isolated from everyone. The only way of understanding the outside world was through tv and books that a kind doctor had let you before he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that. He also learned about the environment you grew up in by your reactions. You hated loud noises, didn’t understand cultural norms, and feared violence and abuse. Knowing this, Five learned to adjust to your needs. He wanted to take care of you and help you. You had become his new family. Maybe it was obsession but it was feeling like love.

You came bouncing down the steps of the academy in a light blue dress with puffy sleeves and a soft ballerina like skirt. The neckline was square and above your cleavage was a gold heart necklace that Five had bought you on your last outing to the mall.

“Beautiful?” You looked at him and twirled.

“Very beautiful amore.” He kissed your cheek and led you out. As the two of you were about to leave the door opened revealing Viktor.

Viktor was in town having just gotten back from a trip to Italy and decided to stop by the academy.

“Oh Five! Who’s this? I came to check on you since you didn’t answer any of my calls.”

Oops well he wasn’t wrong. Five had ignored all Vitkors calls. It wasn’t out of spite it just felt like every-time he talked to his family he had to put on a front. He didn’t need therapy, didn’t want help, and was fine without them. But talking to them felt almost condescending and a very small part of him still harbored a grudge for them all leaving.

“Uh this is Angel. Klaus brought here and left her here so I’ve been taking care of her. We were just about to go out.”

“Angel!” You pointed to yourself.

“Viktor… Five’s family?”

Five sighed when he looked at you. So innocent , unaware to the trauma in his heart. “Yes this is my brother.”

“Brother.” You tested the word out loud.

“Brother!” You pointed to Five.

“No no not I’m not your brother.” Five shot down. He could see the tears in your eyes forming. “I’m sorry Angel, yes we are… family but I am not your brother okay? I’m your friend.”

Your eyes lit up at that notion. You were aware of what friendship was, there was a nice doctor in the facility who had befriended you and taught you all you knew about human interaction until… he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that though.

You jumped into Five wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in his shoulder.

Brown eyes made contact with green and Five felt uneasy in his brother's judgmental gaze. Before Viktor could get out another word Five blinked the two of you to the car. Standing in the doorway Viktor turned to look back at you guys. He was happy his brother had found someone, but you seemed off. He walked into the parlor and whipped out his phone to send a text to the family group chat. Viktor: Did you know Five got a girlfriend? He said Klaus brought her one day and left her. They just went out all dressed up. Allison: No way Diego: Finally that old timer can get some Lila: Who would let that little gremlin near them? Viktor: @Klaus how did you meet Angel. Klaus: On the street. Everyone mentally cringed at the thought of Klaus picking up a girl "off the street" Klaus: She ran into me and was in bad shape, She's super cute though! I knew she and little Five would get along, I'm going to go visit them tonight. Allison: I want to see her! Im coming too Diego: Me and Lila are coming too. Luther: I guess I'm coming as well. Viktor closed out his phone and began walking around the academy. It hadn't been too long since the world was almost destroyed but this place was riddled with mixed memories of sadness but also happiness in which he and his family had finally come together.

His eyes ran over the painting of Five above the mantle. Over his travels, he often thought about Five, but not at first. Initially, he was overjoyed with traveling, meeting people, and developing a few relationships, but his thoughts began to wander back to Five. The boy who had leaped across time, and had worked his ass off to get back to his family only for them to all leave again. It made him feel guilty every time he talked to Five over the phone only to get short responses. His thoughts went back to reminiscing. Five and Vitkor were closest when they were younger, Viktor even remembers the small crush he had on the boy as a kid. Five was cocky, arrogant, and thought to be better than everyone. But the way he looked at Angel had a softness that could rival a field of flowers. The fact he had let her touch him had given Viktor enough information to assume that you had helped Five for the better. ————————-On your date———————— Five had taken you first to a cute little dinner a bit out of the city. You two sat in a booth on the same side. He was a little confused when you sat next to him but decided against saying anything when you grabbed his hand under the table. The waiter came to take your orders, his name was Alek. He looked at you mostly with a predatory glint in his eyes. "What can I get for the pretty lady here?" He winked at you. You laughed and blushed before saying "Pasta!" Pasta was a favorite of yours. Five and you had made pasta together from scratch one night and it was one of your favorite moments with him. You remembered making the sauce together, him flicking some onto your face before kissing it off with his lips. He had looked so good kneading the dough and showing you how to make the sauce and noodles. It ended happily with you in his bed. Five also knew this was your favorite dish and why. It only made his heart beat for you more. Breaking the waiter's attention off you Five stood up and pushed Aleks chest back. "And I'll have the steak, rare I like it a little bloody, and bring us back a milkshake to share, strawberry." Five sat back while glaring at the waiter. Who did this guy even think he was anyway, he literally saw Five walk in with you. Before he could think anything else, his attention was pulled away when your hand traced his jaw.

"Prickly. Ouch." You ran your finger back and forth over his cheek. Five had been growing some facial hair recently.

"What princess? You don't like?" Five rubbed his face against yours while listening to the melodic laughter erupt from your lips. Alek came back with your meals and milkshake avoiding eye contact with you and Five. Excited for your food you kissed Five's cheek as a way to thank him. The two of you ate your food in comfortable silence and shared the milkshake, occasionally laughing when both of you reached for the straw at the same time.

————————-After your date————————

You and Five had left the dinner with full bellies and even fuller hearts. Hand in hand he led you to the street. "let's talk a walk, we need to digest all that food and I know a park nearby that you'll enjoy." "Okay!" you agreed. You had begun to trust Five with... everything in this short time. He cared for you and showed you how to cook, clean, and use a phone. You were growing to love him, not that you knew what love was. As the two of you came closer to the park your eyes lit up seeing the families and children running around and enjoying the warm summer day. Your expression made Five's heart beat faster. Your innocence and kindness were a nice contrast to his years of killings and suffering. Five led the two of you to a bench that looked out to the grassy playground. You leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sign. You finally felt at peace. No electric chair, no pointy syringes, just the warmth of Five's hand in yours and the smell of his cologne. Five looked down at you staring out into the park. He felt lucky, how could someone like you just fall into his lap when he needed it most. A thought crossed his mind, what would happen if you remembered who you were, would you leave him? The last time he was in a relationship was with a mannequin. But this was different, you needed him just as much as he needed you. He pushed those thoughts aside when he watched your eyes close. He nudged your side "Come on Angel its been a long day lets get you home." Lazily you both stood up and walked back to the car not dare letting go of each others hands.

————————-At the Academy————————

Five was on high alert as the two of you arrived back at the Academy. The lights were on in the den and he could hear hushed voices as he approached. Opening the door he was met with 3 people, backs turned towards him. He instantly recognized these figures as his siblings, Diego, Luther, and Allison. Peaking around them he saw three more, Viktor, Klaus, and Lila. "Well, this is an unexpected visit," Five stated breaking the uncomfortable silence. The trio looked at each other before Allison spoke up. "We wanted to check up on you, we haven't heard from you in a while." She looked at you behind Five, "Is this uh your girlfriend?" Five's eyes narrowed at Viktor in the corner before sighing. "She's not my girlfriend, this is Angel, I've been taking care of her since Klaus brought her here."

"I'm not Five's friend." You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes. "No, shit I'm sorry Angel, yes you are my friend you are more than my friend." His expression softened when you wrapped his arms around his neck once again to kiss his cheek. The rest of the superpowered bunch looked in awe. Their normally cocky and arrogant brother hadn't snapped at you or yelled at you. He was gentle and reassuring. Lila was the one to speak up next to Viktor "Wow the old man finally found someone." Ignoring Lila's statement Allison continued, "Wait Klaus brought her here?" Klaus surprisingly not sober, stood up. "Yeah she ran into me all banged up so I brought her to the one place I knew could fix her up. She's got powers like us!" The family turned to you and Five once more expecting you to demonstrate. Hesitating Five looked at you "Okay Angel, show them what we have been practicing." You nodded to Five before raising your hands. In an instant, shadows rose from the ground to the ceiling of the room, suffocating any light that had been previously there. Your hands swirled causing the shadows to form a vortex. You thew your fists down bringing the shadows to your side. One arm lifted up across your chest as you threw it to the opposite area, effectively slicing a potted plant in half. Your eyes glistened with pride as you looked to Five. "I did it!" You jumped into his open arms as Five twirled you around with joy. "I knew you could do it princess!" Luther who was silent in the beginning spoke up next. "So you just found her on the street and she has powers? We don't even know her she could be dangerous then! She could be Commission!" Being number one and the head of the family was difficult for Luther. He was always overprotective of his siblings and made hasty rash decisions believing that he knew what was best for everyone. But Five remembers what happened when Viktor was discovered to have powers and he was hell-bent on not repeating it again. Five paused before turning to you and blinking you upstairs. He had tucked you in and helped you into bed before kissing the corner of your lips. "Good night darling, let me talk to my family for a bit, and I'll join you okay?" "Okay Five, good night" And with one last glance at you he blinked back downstairs. "Trust me Luther I would know if she was commission or not, when she got here she could barely talk and didn't even know her own name!" "I've spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure out where she came from. All I know is that she was brought up in a lab that focused on human experimentation to try to recreate the original 43." "You can't...You honestly can't possibly imagine, the pain she has gone through. And let's not forget what happened the last time you tried to "help" a person who had just gained their powers." Five looked over at Viktor. Viktor couldn't help but look at his lap. "Five is right, let's give her a chance. She is obviously doing well under Five's care and he cares for her back." Five looked appreciative at Viktor although he was the one who originally ratted him and you to the family. "I know you guys haven't heard from me in a while, but trust me I'm doing fine. Let's... go out for breakfast tomorrow. I know a place that we all would like. Meet back here at 9am. I'm going to check on Angel and head to bed." And with that, he disappeared in a flash of blue. The Hagreeves siblings looked at each other in shock. Never had their brother been the first to reach out to spend time, it must be important to him. Diego walked towards and grabbed Lila's hand "Well I'm happy for the guy, it was about time he got some. See you all tomorrow." He waved to his siblings and headed out. The others slowly followed suit each one of them that night laid in bed thinking about the events that had transpired and mentally prepared for a family breakfast the next day.

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Author's note: I had actually finished this before Tumblr decided to not save anything and I lost half the story T-T I was really good too. I tried to rewrite it the best I could.

Author's note: 9/14 part 3 is on its way ! Taglist: @groovydazephantom

[birdkatze]

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = none this chapter

Words = 1.2k

[Chapter 2]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

EXPLICIT under the cut

Groaning as your alarm wakes you, you glance over while hitting the snooze button. It was 7:30 in the morning and you had to get up. Sleepily you remember that you were moving today. Blearily you rub your eyes and contemplate getting up at all. However, you couldn’t delay since tomorrow the people who bought your house would be moving in.

Struggling to stand up as every muscle in your body ached and pulled on itself, it was as if they didn’t sit right in your skin. Your tummy aches and burns, and the scar from the dog bite that you had gotten on your wrist as a teen pulled and burned like a brand, you were almost in tears as you grabbed the outfit you set out. It was a simple t-shirt and jeans. 

Everything else was pretty much ready for the movers. You grabbed your heated blanket, three sleep stuffies, and your blankie picking them all up with care and putting them in the front seat of your car. You just lean against your car for a moment and bask in the cool morning air. It would be nice to leave the city behind, it was a blessing your job could be done remotely as a freelance accountant.

The morning felt never ending as the movers loaded everything up in their truck and you managed to get on the road. The pain you felt only got worse even with tylenol and ibuprofen. It was agonizing and you couldn’t take anything stronger till the end of the day when you unpacked some of your stuff and were off the road.

After a few hours you and the moving truck reach your new home, it was a good size cottage with a garden in the back. It looked like it was going to fall apart in a few places but you had been on the phone with a contractor that would help get it all sorted. It also was against a mountain and had forest surrounding it, the chirping of birds felt comforting as you looked around. It was about an hour from the nearest ‘big’ town and was right on the border of a national park. It would be a nice place to raise a family, if you ever got around to it. Although, at your age that most likely was out of the cards. It was stunning and eased the longing feeling for the forest. 

Breathing in the scent of pine you almost moan, you already felt at home. Your body relaxes and the pain dulls to a barely-there ache. You help the movers the best you can, pointing to what went to each room, with their help you put away the small things and they move in the larger things.

The moving company finished moving everything in and you were finally able to lay down and take some real medication. Your doctor had prescribed muscle relaxers, they didn’t ease the ache much and really only put you to sleep, but it was better than writhing in agony all night. 

The doctors claimed it was just due to your age seeing as you were getting older. You didn't believe it since the pain had been plaguing you for decades since you were in your late teens. It made no sense seeing as your body still seemed the same as it was when you were eighteen, you didn’t even have gray hair or wrinkles yet!

Grabbing your heated blanket and medication you climb into bed, taking your meds and then laying down your body is wracked with agony. You gasp and moan in pain, you writhe as your bones and muscles pull and burn. Howling in pain as your body feels like it's on fire. You curl up in the fetal position and sob loudly.

Gasping you still cry, grabbing your heated blanket you put it on max heat and pray for it to maybe, hopefully work. Your eyes run with tears and you feel suffocated as your ribs felt as if they were breaking. The noises that come from your mouth were animalistic, if you weren’t in so much pain you would have been mortified.

As the night progresses it only gets worse and worse, it lulls for a while and you relax. Taking in deep breaths you hope it’s the end but a wolf howls out somewhere in the yard and you are brought right back into pain. As you look in the full body mirror leaning against the wall your eyes are a glowing orange and you look off. You looked like the second to first transformation in an animorphs book.

Eventually your body takes mercy and you pass out, crying yourself to sleep. Your dreams are filled with wolves and forests. You felt safe and at home in your dream, it was so easy and you didn’t hurt. The moon was full in your dream, the forest was stunning in the moonlight. As you meander through the woods, an odd feeling takes over you.

You had been horny before but never this much. You felt hot and sticky and so- so needy. Your body contorts in your dream into a face down ass up position. The urge and lust for babies takes over you. Whining you spread your legs more hoping to entice someone into filling you up. You gasp as someone finally does something, licking at your hole, you can’t tell who it is but it feels so good…so right. 

“Please please, please….pleaaassseee…” you whine desperately for someone to fill you up.

Your breathing stutters as you feel your hole stretch open, it was so warm and comforting. The pace was slow and considerate before it ramped up to something more intense. You had never felt so good ever in your life, none of your sparse partners had ever gotten you to this peak. Reaching your peak you tense up and dive over the edge of pleasure. You moan loudly and clench down. 

Just as you came down from your high, it became cold and your hole clenched around nothing. You whine as you slowly wake up. Rubbing your eye, you were incredibly sore which wasn’t new but the insides of your thighs are tacky with your release. Mortification washed over you as you realized that you had been humping your pillow during your sex dream.

Getting up way too quickly, your body protests and you cry out in pain. Stumbling to the shower you wash off your shame and put the pillow cover in the washing machine. As you dress you hear the doorbell go off.

As quiet as possible you climb downstairs but end up slipping and falling on your wrist causing pain to shoot up your arm. You cry out in pain and gasp harshly. Coupled with the soreness from last night you couldn’t get up and instead curl up in a ball and cry.

Someone knocks on the door again “You alright there?” The voice was rough and deeply masculine “I usually watch the house so I have a key, can I come in?”

“Give me a minute…” You whimper and stand up shakily.

You stumble to the door and open it.

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[flowercrowngods]

based on an idea i had about steve getting a bad migraine from the sudden bloodloss after kas feeds from him

post-canon, steddie don't like each other, hermit kas, depressed brain injury steve, kinda gloomy, anxiety & compulsions

Steve cuts the engine with a sigh, feeling heavy and alien, like a lone survivor in a ghost town. He’s not a lone survivor, and Hawkins isn’t technically a ghost town because there’s still enough of them here to build it back up or to watch it crumble and cave in on itself, front row seats to the fourth wave of destruction. 

Maybe the real ghost is Steve, actually, floating through his days just waiting for his brain to decide it’s had enough. Just waiting for the perpetual ringing in his ears to rise in pitch and frequency and for his skull to fucking crack open from the never ending waves of the never ending buzz.

Robin asks him about it a lot, notices how he will stop and listen to his body on every inhale that feels slightly wrong, or every movement that’s just a little too fast or just a little too sudden, the blood rushing into his head or out of it, the doctor’s words ringing in tune with the tinnitus: You watch that head of yours, young man, and do not hesitate to call emergency services when the headache won’t stop after a few hours, or when anything feels off, you hear me? 

The truth is, he barely heard him then. Blood was roaring in his ears, the tinnitus still quiet, but his hearing still dull from impact and screams and shock wave after shock wave of the world sewing itself back together. 

He sighs again, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel and trying to catch his breath. Taking stock of his head, the heartbeat he can only feel in his hands right now and nowhere near his temples, and the quiet little tap tap tap of his finger nails hitting the leather, wanting to make sure he can hear it. Wanting to make sure he doesn’t imagine the sound. 

Always fucking needing to make sure. 

Soon, he breathes a little steadier, convincing himself that getting out of the car won’t be the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s so stupid, too, that fear, all that anxiety living inside him just waiting to boil and spill over until he does something stupid just to spite it.

The cool breeze hits his face, working in tandem with his calming breaths to alleviate his obsessive thought spirals, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he does nothing but breathe for a minute there. 

He’s up. He’s standing. He can walk through the forest to the vamp’s hiding place, it’s fine. It’s fine. Although standing so suddenly makes him aware that he hasn’t eaten much today, too busy hating everything about this town and helping to rebuild it anyway. 

Forgetting to eat and drink is another thing that’s new to him. There’s quite a few things he forgets a lot, but those are the worst. Robin is always on his ass about that, but at some point he stopped telling her. It feels like he’s stopped telling her a lot of things. Maybe that’s something else that comes with severe brain injury, young man. 

He feels plenty guilty about it at least — but not enough to tell her about all the horrible things that are happening to him, or the horrible things he thinks are happening to him. The Upside Down is gone, Vecna is dead. These bad thoughts, they’re all him. But knowing that doesn’t fucking help.

Pushing away from the car and turning around to lock it, Steve decides to wallow in self pity no longer and to just get on with it. As much as he hates it. As much as part of him wants to just go home and claim that he forgot about that, too. 

It’s no secret that Steve never liked Eddie. The boy’s a hypocrite, he’s loud, he’s annoying, and he just likes to shame people as publicly as possible, spitting proclamations of conformity and sticking it to the Man while at the same time turning anarchy into despotism under the guise of rebellion — and he’s the dictator. 

Or, he was. And Steve never cared about him or his larger than life attitude that was worse than any of the smiles Steve ever wore to fit in in high school. Steve mostly ever just wanted Munson to shut up and eat his lunch, stop pretending he’s better than any of them just because he liked different things.

Although it wasn’t even about liking other things, it was only ever about disliking. And shaming and denouncing. Steve always wondered what kind of a miserable life that dude must have lived, shaping himself not from what he liked but from what he hated. Creating an identity that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because it was so fragile and contradictory and, frankly, so fucking annoying. 

Still, he’d never wished for Munson to get involved in all of this. He’d never wished for the man to die. And then to come back only to be turned into some kind of vampire, doomed to live an even worse existence than he did as a human, hidden away in some shabby cabin. 

Steve feels a little bad for him now. For Eddie. Or Kas, as the kids like to call him because he never reacts to his name anymore, more monster than human these days, although Dustin is sure they can domesticate him into becoming his old self again. 

“Like Dart, remember?”

“Dude, don’t compare our friend to your sick little creature.” That was Lucas, affronted and annoyed. Steve could relate, although… 

“You gotta admit, he’s kind of a sick little creature himself now.” 

“Steve!” they’d both yelled, and Steve just playfully shoved their heads back before going to grab a coke from the fridge.

And Kas, because vampires are apparently a thing even after the end of the world, needs blood to survive. The forests are void of animals most of the time, like nature has decided to give Hawkins an ultimatum before returning and the day hasn’t come yet. Maybe it’s something to do with electromagnetic fields, or maybe it was something else entirely leading them all to safety while Hawkins was turned into a war zone. Either way, there is nothing for him to feed here. 

Kas can’t just stalk around the woods at night and drink up a deer or two. Nor can he go rob the blood bank at the hospital, they’re running low as it is anyway. That left them all with only one option that Mike so disgustedly pointed out back then: Kas needs their blood. And Steve feels just bad enough for him to play along. 

So now he is out here playing blood bank for the monstrous version of a guy he never even liked, and his hometown is in shambles, and his head might actually sign the fuck off at any moment now, apparently. 

Things are going great. 

Saving the world is just… really fucking isolating. 

Still he has no choice but to announce his presence with a firm knock on the door, the pattern easy but memorable. 

“This is Steve,” he adds as his hand falls to his side, waiting. 

Kas always takes a while to come out and open the door, hiding away from any noise like a feral cat. Steve can kind of relate — he and Kas don’t have the best relationship either. He has no idea how sudden vampirism works, but just like feral cats will be able to tell when someone wants to hurt them and when instincts should be kicking in, Kas seems to realise how little Steve wants to be here and help him. How little he wants to have his blood sucked out of his body leaving his limbs to feel numb and uncomfortably tingly. 

Eventually, though, the door opens with a creek, just enough for a pair of eyes — too large, too wide, too wild — blink back at him. Steve just lifts his eyebrows, really kind of not in the mood to deal with this barely human vampire and his absolute lack of learning curve about this situation.

When he’s sure Kas has blinked at him for long enough now, he pushes open the door and shoves inside rather roughly, immediately feeling bad when he hears the slight whimper. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets again and trying not to grimace at the stale, disgusting air in the cabin. “Jeez, you really gotta open a window every once in a while. Thought vamps were supposed to have heightened senses or some shit.” 

Kas growls at him, mirroring Steve’s move and shoving past him this time, his shoulder slamming into Steve’s with painful strength. Glowering at the stupid vampire, he rubs at his shoulder before crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Listen, buddy, I can just leave and have you deal with your hunger, okay? No big deal for me, I even get to keep my blood.” 

Kas snaps at him, showing his fangs and crossing his arms, too; a laughable copy of Steve’s own stance. 

“Or you could just cut the crap and get on with it so I actually can leave again without taking shit from the peanut gallery. Your choice.” 

The huff that follows is so indignant, Steve wonders if that could be what gets Kas out of Munson’s body and let the human win over the monster. Maybe indignation and annoyance is what will break the spell eventually, lift the curse just enough for Munson to get back into his old habit of monologising and spouting nonsense out of that big mouth of his. 

Steve is half tempted to try, but he really does want to just go home and lie on his large couch with no sensory input whatsoever, tuning out the world and his anxieties that might be about to turn into compulsions just for him to gain a little control over everything again. So he squares his shoulders and takes off his jacket before tilting his head to the side, allowing Kas full access to his neck. 

It’s always a little scary but still oddly fascinating, filling him with that same rush that came with witnessing all the supernatural shit over the past few years. Kas is the last remnant of all that, and somehow, buried beneath piles of rubble and trauma and the teenager he had to give up on being, Steve feels weirdly protective of that. 

Not of Eddie. Of Kas. Of the monster that lies dormant. Of the last bit of danger in his life, because he doesn’t know how to live without it anymore — so much so that he has to make it up.

Maybe it’s a symptom of his self destructive tendencies, as Robin would call it. But Steve might be as fascinated with the vampire as Robin is with fire; so she doesn’t get to have a say in this.

There is always a strange intimacy in the way Kas approaches him. Slowly, carefully. Like a hunter his prey. Steve doesn’t feel like prey, not really, but a part of him wants to. A part of him needs to be prey again, if only for those instincts that manifest with a perpetual tremor and a restless feeling in his chest to be of use again. If only so he can have a point again. Something to fight that’s outside oh his own head. 

Now, his point is standing still entirely and feeling those chapped but warm lips trail up and down his throat a little before Kas finds the right spot that won’t really hurt Steve, the right spot that will make it all go by quickly and without any hiccups. 

Still he shivers, like always, and Kas holds him close when he finally bites down. Like always. 

He stands motionless as he feels his blood flow alternating, rushing in his ears and his head, his heart thump-thump-thumping, putting up a fight against the strange intrusion. He hardly even breathes at all, focusing instead on his body and burying his finger nails in his palm for five seconds before releasing his hands and repeating the process three times before he gets it right. 

But then his head is pulsing, his heartbeat slowing down as his vision briefly blacks out in the same way it does when he gets up too quickly, and his heart falls. It’s too much. Too sudden. 

“Kas,” he says, but the vampire doesn’t hear him, drinking more and more of the blood that must be so thick with how little he’s had to drink today — something he only just remembered. “Kas,” he says again, more urgently this time; but still the vampire drinks. 

And where before Steve had a clear vision of the door in the dark room — the light of day streaming in through the cracks and framing it almost mystically —, it’s spotty now. Just slightly off. Like something is missing but his brain is working overtime to complete the picture anyway, reducing the blind spot to merely an illusion. But Steve knows what’s happening. He knows what the sudden pulsating of his head means, especially when it’s followed by his vision just going AWOL on him.

No, he thinks as the situation really settles in, and he begins to push Kas away. Not like it matters anyway now; the damage is done. No, no, no, no, fuck! 

He frantically shoves at the vampire now, blinking against the blind spot even though he’s painfully aware it won’t help. Kas breaks away from him, wiping his mouth and smearing his face and the back of his hand with Steve’s blood. If he looks just right, he can’t even fucking see it. 

Heart falling further, Steve buries his hands in his hair and pulls, hoping that by some kind of miracle he can just pull the migraine out of his head before it can really settle. It’s his only chance. He can’t drive like this, he shouldn’t walk like this, and soon he won’t be able to do anything at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” be hisses, hearing the edge of desperation in his own voice and caring very little about that right now. 

Kas is on him again in a second, and Steve waves him off, tries to shove him away but the vampire is stronger and persistent. 

A high keening sound builds in Kas’s chest, and Steve knows he doesn’t really speak, doesn’t really use his words, ever — maybe he doesn’t know how. But the keening sounds more like a whine, and the way he pulls at Steve to look at him is as much an indicator of worry as he’s going to get.

But Steve doesn’t want Kas’s hands on him, wants to just get out and away before the pain comes. So he takes another step back and holds up his hands, hoping that the vampire will just fucking take a hint. 

A little too quickly and a little too frantic, Steve shakes his head, his eyes flitting about the room to see if there’s still pieces of it missing or if phase two is about to start. He has about twenty minutes left before his body will be composed of nothing but skull-splitting pain that is only equal to someone ramming actual nails into his head — and even that would be preferable right noe, because at least that pain he wouldn’t need to explain. Or justify.

Another keening sound interrupts Steve's burgeoning spiral, and his eyes land on Kas, who really looks like a kicked puppy right now. 

"I gotta go," he says, voice a little unsteady with apprehension and panic, but just as he's about to rush out of the cabin, Kas crosses his path and won't let him move. 

A strong hand lands on his chest, and Steve really, really doesn't want to deal with that right now. He tries again, tries with more force to sidestep and push past him, but Kas won't let him budge. 

"Let me go." But Kas doesn't let up. "Kas. Please. You gotta let me go, I gotta get home, I—“ 

The first flash of white in his peripheral vision catches him off guard, moving his focus away from the clawed hand on his chest and toward the flickering line that cuts through the left side of his vision right now. 

Curious or worried or maybe just really fucking stupefied at having Steve act so weirdly, Kas inclines his head and ducks to catch Steve's eyes. 

"Move," Steve says again, as assertive as he can manage with his brain and body scattered between following the flickering lights that are invisible to everyone else and the pain that is about to consume him, leaving him incapacitated for several hours at least.

Instead of moving out of Steve's space and allowing him to leave, Kas shoves him backwards with that superhuman strength he has now, forcing Steve to stumble back helplessly. Fear rises in him again, and it's a different flavour this time that mixes horribly well with the anxiety and apprehension and all the waves and waves of blinding panic he feels out of nowhere almost all the time now. 

His knees buckle when they hit something rather violently, and then he's falling, landing on the worn couch with a breathless gasp, his instincts running wild. He needs to fight, he needs to run, he needs to get home and be safe and get the fuck away from this monster who won't let him go now. Steve doesn't know Kas as someone who will just take what he wants, but, well, he is Munson, in a way. So that tracks. 

But instead of attacking him, instead of going for his neck again and sucking the rest of his blood, instead of beating Steve to a pulp to keep him pliant and unmoving and turn him into some sort of personal livestock, Kas just... sits down next to him. Hands in his lap. Worried look trained on Steve, who needs to catch his breath and calm down.

"Hurt." 

It startles Steve. Kas has never spoken to him. But what’s more, Steve shouldn't be that obvious. He doesn't want to be that obvious, especially about hurting and being hurt. 

So he shakes his head, his hands coming up to press into his eyes, hoping to get rid of the flickering lights even though he knows that once they stop, the pain will come; and it will come badly. 

"'M not hurt," he says, lying through his teeth and the heel of his hand. "I just gotta go home." 

"Hurt," Kas says again, and it's more assertive this time, less of a question. Like he's telling Steve rather than asking. Like he's making him understand. 

He reminds Steve a little of Robin in that regard, and he almost has to smile. He would, too, if he wasn't so aware that it would become a horrible grimace, wavering and pale even by vampire hermit standards. 

So he sighs instead, letting his hands fall into his lap and wringing his fingers. There are about ten, maybe fifteen minutes left. Not enough to get anywhere safe on foot, and he sure as hell ain't driving when his vision is halfway through its rendition of a TV without signal, zig-zagging in white and red and green, flickering and flaring and leaving him a little disoriented even when all he's doing is sitting on that dusty old couch. 

"Hurt," Kas repeats for the third time, and Steve tenses, ready to snap at him to shut up, that he's not hurt yet but will be any minute now and that Kas should really just shut the fuck up and leave himself if he won't let Steve go anywhere. 

But looking at those wide eyes, he doesn't snap. He deflates. His shoulders fall and his eyes close, which only makes the flickers worse, he feels.

“I’m… I’m gonna have a migraine," he sighs, letting that hang in the air between them, letting the words take up the whole room and suffocate him while he knows that they won't touch Kas. That he won't understand. Nobody does. 

It's just a headache, Steve, get over it. 

They leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and he's just waiting for the huff to come. 

But it doesn't come. Instead, Kas just keeps looking at him; same worried expression, same unobtrusive posture, same everything. Right. He probably doesn't know jackshit about what that's supposed to mean. 

So Steve explains. “I, well. I kinda can't really see right now, but that'll pass. That's when the pain comes. I won't want to move. No light. No noise. No nothing. And all I can do about it is wait it out, which is why I need you to let me leave..." 

It's one of those moments where he hates that he's the only one of their group with a license; that he can't just radio with a code red and have someone come get him no questions asked. 

"I just wanna go home, man," he sighs, hating his voice for the weak whine around the edges. 

A beat passes between them, and Steve pretends like he's not counting the seconds. Like he doesn't notice that the flickering zigzag line is getting smaller and dimmer, and that agony is imminent. 

"Here," Kas says then, and somehow it's both an offer and a command. "You. Here."

Steve blinks, the words not really translating through the tired fog of his brain. 

"Huh? Sorry, uh, what?" 

"You," Kas says, shuffling closer to him, like that sort of helps him translate what it is he wants to say. 

"Me." 

Kas nods, then motions around the room and pats the couch cushion, releasing a cloud of dust from it. "Here."

“You—“ Steve frowns. "You want me to stay here?"

The nod is decisive and in another world Steve would have called it eager, with the way Kas is shuffling on the spot. 

"Kas," Steve sighs, rubbing his face, not quite sure how to make the vampire explain that it's gonna be bad. Really, really bad. The flickering shimmer is already waning, and phantom pains are already setting in, settling along his skull like little pinpricks of warning. 

A clawed hand reaches for his wrist, making Steve flinch away, but Kas doesn't hurt him. He pulls Steve’s hand away from his face almost gently, slowly, and makes sure Steve looks at him. 

"Safe." And he looks so genuine about it. He looks like he knows what that word means. "Safe." 

With a sigh, Steve accepts his fate. Kas isn't gonna let him go anytime soon, and at this point Steve really doesn't want to face the gloomy weather outside, stuck as it is somewhere between drizzle and downpour and so endlessly grey for days. 

Still he feels pathetic about it. Vulnerable. Exposed. Like a last bastion falling, the castle walls crumbling, the fragile house of cards finally falling, because suddenly this agony isn't something he keeps only to himself. 

Even if it's only Kas who witnesses it. Kas, who’s endured worse than that, Steve knows. Brainwashing, manipulation, the agony of shaping human into vampire so excruciating his mind has gone into hiding still. 

"Okay," Steve breathes at last, pretending that his voice didn't break on that single word. "Okay."

Kas hums, the sound resembling more a gurgle than anything else, and before Steve knows what's happening, cold hands are pulling him up and off the couch. 

"Jesus," he mumbles, barely catching his footing and pulling away from Kas's grasp, but following nonetheless, not even thinking about fleeing now. "I'm coming, I'm coming, man, don't touch me." 

Miraculously, Kas does stay away, walking just one step ahead of Steve, turning towards him every two steps to make sure he's still following. It reminds Steve of a mama duck herding her ducklings across the street and making sure they're all still there. It's weirdly endearing. 

"Why do you even care?" 

He doesn't get an answer, but that's no surprise, and he doesn't really mind either. It was more about wondering, about putting that question out there and letting it take up space for future contemplation. 

Kas leads him to an adjoining room, the north-facing windows all barred shut, ripped and moth-eaten curtains drawn to block out the last of the light. Right. Fitting, for a vampire's lair. 

The bed in the middle of the far wall is surprisingly large, though, and looks surprisingly soft. It's unmade, but that's just as well. There are no belongings in the room otherwis that Steve can make out, the framed pictures on the wall look as dusty as the rest of the cabin, so they can't belong to Kas. Or maybe he likes them enough to keep them, to claim them as his own now. 

It’s a heartbreaking thought. 

Stupidly and out of nowhere, Steve wonders if he could take care of this cabin. Dust it and clean it and only fill it with things Kas likes. Maybe things Munson used to like — surely the kids would know how to go about that. Or Wayne. 

He's about to ask; about the pictures, about the stuff, about Wayne — if he's been around lately, if he's still telling stories to bring back the dormant Eddie parts of his modified and manipulated mind.

But just as he's about to turn to the vampire and ask, the blinding flickers disappear from his field of vision in the dark room, and within seconds something inside his skull bursts, leaving his body awash with pain that nearly has his knees buckling. A whimper escapes him that he tries to steer into a groan, but then his hands are flying to his head and he stops caring about how he expresses this immediate agony to the world. 

Kas is on him again with a whimper, suddenly just as fucking tactile as his once-human form. 

“Don’t touch me,” Steve rasps, wrenching himself free from the gasp once more. He really wishes Kas would stop touching him. "You want me to lie down here, yeah? Take your bed?" 

Kas nods again, looking at Steve with those wide eyes that seem to glow in the dark — or maybe that's his migraine-addled mind seeing things where they aren't, making up for the blind spot and the flickering. 

Steve looks away, the motion hurting his entire face, and he closes his eyes as pins and needles are moving along the inside of his face, pricking up against the skin but never breaking through. 

"Right then," he whispers, his voice barely audible and still too loud, making his ears click and pressure collect around them, making him wonder if they're going to burst. "'M gonna lie down." 

Struggling with the heavy blanket, Steve is close to giving up and just lying on top of it, but Kas is quick to help him once he realises that Steve needs it. He pulls back the blanket, still looking so damn stricken about everything, like he's genuinely worried about Steve. It doesn't make sense. 

He doesn't have the strength for a Thanks or even a smile, but he nods just once, just barely, before sluggishly falling onto the bed and fumbling with the blanket once more. Every movement hurts. Every twitch of a muscle is too much, and just moving his pinkie is enough to douse his body in never-ending pain that travels from his skull all the way down.

Something Steve has always wondered is why migraines make his body shut down like that, leaving him in a state where all he can do is lie down and fall into a near-catatonic limbo until the pain has lifted enough to face the rest of the world again. Fighting inter-dimensional monsters and posing as a feast to demonic, modified monster bats was also agony. It also made him lose his footing and almost pass out from blood loss and pain, his back scratched open completely where the bats dragged him across rough stone. 

Migraine pains don't really compare to those, though, and it scares him. Because he knows that's all up in his brain. His fucked up, mangled, thrice-concussed fucking brain he never got cared for because the government goons never took them seriously. Never took him seriously. 

And now here he is, lying in a stranger's bed in a pitch-black room that's still somehow too bright, unmoving, too weak to even pull up the blanket, and hoping to pass out from it all. Hoping he won't hallucinate again this time. Hoping that he won't throw up this time, his body convulsing because it knows it shouldn't be feeling like this. 

Throwing up from pain. There's really nothing more fucked up than that. Or, there is. Throwing up from pain and begging an invisible man to make it stop, only to realise hours later that the most painful migraines can also make you hallucinate. 

He doesn't want that. He doesn't want any of that ever again, and certainly not in a strange, dark cabin with a vampire forged from a human he never even liked. 

Tears spring to his eyes, but they're not the kind that'll fall and bring relief. They just stay in the corners of his eyes, his only way to express the waves and flares of pain washing over him, wishing he could just pass out now. 

Kas tucks him in. Steve didn’t know he could do that. It strikes him as extremely non-vampiric even in this state he’s in. Steve doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as blink his eyes open as the pain travels up to his hairline and settles there, flaring over his forehead to his eyes and down to his cheekbones and then up again, a never-ending motion that he never stands a chance to get used to. 

“Safe,” Kas says again, and it zings through Steve’s body with violent force that doesn’t match at all with the gentle tone he’s using. 

Scrunching his forehead to stave off more words, Steve hopes that Kas will take the hint and know to shut up. 

But he has no such luck. 

“Here.” 

“Shhh.” He shakes his head minutely, shushing the vampire with a barely there noise, keeping the damage to a minimal amount. “You can go,” he slurs, trying not to speak at all. “Please.” 

A beat of blessed, blissful silence, before there’s shuffling again. Kas does walk to the door, but then stops in the doorway. Steve doesn’t want to look. 

“No.” Kas sounds surprised about it. Mystified. Like he wants to leave but can’t. 

What?

“Stay. Here.” 

Whatever you do, just please be quiet about it, Steve thinks desperately. Instead of saying any of that, he shushes him again, hoping that the thump he hears means that Kas is sitting on the floor now. Though he doesn’t understand why. 

Why do you even care? 

“Safe,” Kas says again, whispering the word into the room, and it doesn’t zing through Steve this time. 

With Kas refusing to leave and his pathetic state of existence so blatantly on display, and with waves and waves as his nerves fire signals to his overworked and tired brain, more tears sprint to his eyes. And this time they fall. Silently, and without a sob, without even a sniffle of acknowledgment. But they fall. 

And Steve just wants to go home.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

part 2 here

[holylulusworld]

Compensation (2)

Summary: No one messes with Walter Marshall.

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warning: angst, mentions of being attacked/attempted sexual assault, I mention the word rape, scared reader, injured reader, fluff

Compensation (1)

You’re rocking back and forth, trying to breathe right. The tears stopped falling hours ago. You ran out of them, you believe. But the dread and fear didn’t go away.

Walter Marshall. The most dangerous man you have ever heard of brought you to his home because the man he killed for you did more than invade your home. He trashed your whole apartment. There’s barely anything left of your belongings. Not even your clothes.

Nothing of your life is left. You can’t believe this man did all this only because you didn’t want him to rape you.

“How do you feel?” You swallow thickly when Walter steps inside the room. You don’t know what will happen now. All you know is that you can’t go home and that your boss killed a man for you not hours ago. “Did you sleep?”

He looks at the untouched food and sighs. You cringe, because he seems to be angry at you for not eating the food he offered to you. Walter points at the food, sighing deeply.

“You need to eat.” When he steps closer, you cower on the couch, looking anywhere but at your boss. “The doctor said you need to take the meds after you ate.”

You’d like to laugh about his motherly behavior. How can a man who killed another person act all sweet only hours later? “I wasn’t very hungry, sorry.”

“You say sorry a lot,” he points out. One brow cocked he looks at you. “Relax and stop holding your breath. Why are you so tense? You’re safe here with me. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

You whimper when Walter sits next to you. He tugs at the old sweater he offered to you, features softening.

“That man is dead,” you finally choke out. “You killed him because of me. I-I didn’t want you to. Why would you do such a thing?”

With teary eyes, you look at Walter. He sighs again, a little deeper this time. “Princes, no one hurts a woman on my watch. There are rules in this town. Rules I and all of my men follow. If you want to live in my town, you follow these rules too.”

“He was a guest,” you sniffle and wipe your wet eyes.

“Stop finding excuses for that piece of shit,” he murmurs and cups your chin with his large hands. You feel so small next to Walter it makes your heart beat out of your chest. “It doesn’t matter if he was only a guest in this town. A man should never do such a thing. It’s our honor to protect, not hurt a woman.”

You’d like to giggle at his serious expression. It’s the first time you heard a man say things like that. Your ex-boyfriend would love to disagree.

There is something in his eyes for a second. Disbelief? Disappointment? You don’t know. Maybe Walter is just used to people believing his every word.

“You don’t believe me,” he concludes. “I know it’s hard to believe that someone cares about you. Not after what that man did to you, and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” You question. “What do you know about my ex-boyfriend? I never mentioned him. What is going on?” You’re working yourself up and start to pant.

Walter brings you into his lap and wraps you in his arms. It feels odd, having your boss take care of you, but you cannot fight his embrace while struggling to breathe.

“Princess, relax. I won’t hurt you. Breathe for me. In and out,” he murmurs in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me. I know you can do it.”

“What—do you…” you choke the words out. “My ex—”

“I need to protect my business. I run a thorough background check for every new employee, Y/N. This has nothing to do with you. I saw the police report and the restraining order.”

You suck in a breath. “I should go home. Maybe I can fix my apartment or save a few things. There must be something left.”

“My men brought everything they could save to my place,” Walter softly speaks to you while running his hand up and down your back. “Your landlord didn’t want to listen when I told him it wasn’t your fault the man trashed your apartment. I have a nice guestroom for you. It has everything you’ll need.”

Walter doesn’t offer you to stay. He simply tells you that this will be your life now. Life under his control. You owe him after he killed a man for you. Still, you don’t know why he would do such a thing for a random maid.

For now, you can only give in to his demands.

“We should have dinner now. What do you like?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You got comfortable in his arms and even rested your head against his shoulder. Sleepily you blink your eyes open to lift your head and look at Walter.

After helping you sit on the sofa next to him, he gets his phone out. Walter barks orders into the phone, ordering food for the two of you. It doesn’t take long before you have a full plate stand in front of you. When Walter tells you to eat dinner, you’ll do it this time.

He watches you eat tiny bites, eyes never leaving your face.

He hums and takes are large bite of his steak. “Tastes good, huh?” He flashes you a smile, making you choke on your food. You never saw him smile before. This is not the stoic boss you know.

Rachel is fuming. She was forced to grab all the things left at your apartment instead of taking her usual spot next to Walter.

“Why are you wasting time on a maid?” She snaps at Walter. Rachel is one of the few people who are not afraid of Walter. She knows her worth. “Walter, you can’t get distracted while we are about to seal the deal of the century.”

Walter cocks a brow. He dips his head to look at Rachel. “What I do is none of your concern. She’s under my protection, live with it.”

“Why?” Rachel presses on. “You never cared much about your employees as long as they didn’t step out of line. What makes her different?”

“I don’t have to explain my reasons,” he growls at Rachel. She flinches for the first time since she started working for Walter. “If you don’t like my decisions, there is the door.” He points at the door. “I have more than enough bootlickers in my organization waiting for their chance to take over your position.”

She inhales sharply but doesn’t lose her composure. Rachel knows she cannot cross a line without getting replaced. In Rachel's case, getting replaced means being killed because she knows too much about Walter’s organization. “Just tell me why she’s so important.”

“I owe her father. It’s called compensation,” he finally caves in and sighs. “He saved me years back when I was still trying to figure this business out. She’s his legacy, all that’s left of his family. I gave her the job to keep an eye on her. He’d kill me knowing she got hurt on my watch.”

Rachel blanches. Walter almost looks scared. He never looked frightened. Not a single time.

For a long moment, they look at each other, silently agreeing not to tell another soul about what he just revealed.

“We will keep her safe,” he finally says. “She can never know. He didn’t want her to know about his business.” Walter narrows his eyes. “Do you understand?”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere priest or religious higher up x witch reader?

Yandere! Priest pt. 2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

In a small, picturesque village nestled amidst towering mountains and lush greenery, there existed a quiet and humble priest. He was revered for his kind heart, unwavering devotion to his faith, and his desire to help others. Yandere! Priest had dedicated his life to serving his community, finding solace in his duties and the tranquility of the church. He could only be described as compassionate and fair with the gentlest heart. He was very well loved by the community around him and highly respected. However, there was a small group of people who hated him and preyed on his downfall. One these people managed to gravely injure him and drag his body far away from civilization to make sure he doesn’t have a chance at living. They wanted a slow and painful death for him.

On the outskirts desolated from the village, was an enchanted forest, that was rumored by the townspeople to be cursed and filled with many horrors. That so-called haunted and enchanted forest held your lovely house which you had been living in for decades. Now the question arises, why exactly were you living in such a dangerous and isolated forest in the first place? Well, an easy explanation to this question was the fact that you were a witch. On that possessed extraordinary magic, to be more specific you were a witch doctor. One who was dedicated to healing and creating new medicinal spells.

Currently, you were outside in that forest collecting herbs when you came across a severely injured person. They had grave injuries all over their body and had a nasty head wound across their skull. Whenever you came across an injured animal you would always heal them immediately in order to ensure their survival. This time it was different because they were human. You had to be extra cautious about using your powers in order to not be exposed as a witch. You start to carefully and swiftly carry them towards your cabin.

By the time that you got home, your patient had already lost a liter of blood. You honestly were not sure if they were even gonna survive the night but you quickly got to work on them. Although it took several hours, you managed to stabilize him with the help of your magic and medical tools. Using a spell to clean up the blood, you decide to retire for the night. The operation was a success but you had to heal him little by little to avoid suspicion. Anyways, he should be up by tomorrow, it’s time to get some well deserved rest.

When morning arrived, Yandere! Priest started to stir from his bed. He was currently in a daze, “Where was he? The last thing he remembered was getting beat up. How did he end up here?” A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal you. “Nice to see you awake. I hope you feel better now.” He looks at you with confusion and you quickly explain the situation and how you found him.

“Ah, I see. I can’t exactly remember who attacked me. Is it alright if I stay here for a while until I get better?” Just like that you earned yourself a new servant. He was extremely respectful towards you but had the tendency to linger extremely close to you while you were out in public looking for supplies. While you worked on your medicine, Yandere! Priest took care of all the household chores and acted like your househusband. He was supposed to be devoted to God and live his life in celibacy but here was little by little falling in love with you. No matter what he did, his mind was filled with just thoughts of you and the need to please your every desire. It wasn’t right but it felt so natural. If God was out there listening and witnessing all the deeds he had done for him in his name, then he wouldn’t mind if he fell in love with you right?

As the days went on, you both were living in complete harmony, that was until one day while shopping in town, someone from Yandere! Priest’s village recognized him. This person ended up being Yandere! Priest’s childhood friend who had a crush on him. She was extremely shocked that he was here and she stalked him all the way back to your house. While there she got jealous, the way that he looked and treated you made her green with envy. All her life she had a crush on him and when she finally had the courage to ask him out, he simply stated that he devoured his life to God. Devoted my ass, what kind of priest looks at a person with such tender love and care? She honestly could not believe this. She loved him so much that if she couldn’t have him, then no one could. Which is why she hired a hitman to kill him and why she was so surprised to see him alive. If only that person she hired wasn’t so incompetent.

After some more days of observation, she discovers a disturbing secret from you. It was the fact that you were a WITCH. She could not believe her eyes as she watched you take out your spell book to make a potion. As she was about to go town to tell everyone about this, she ended up tripping which alerted you that she was there. You quickly realized that she discovered your identity and was about to go tell the townspeople. In a flash you immediately took action and teleported to the other end of the forest and rushed to the town.

There, you immediately screamed, “WITCH, EVERYONE I HAVE DISCOVERED A WITCH.” This immediately caught the attention of everyone around and they all started to ask you questions about their appearance. Yandere! Priest was shopping and heard the sound of your voice. He immediately rushed over to you. After you finish giving the description of the girl, she immediately rushes over to the people and starts accusing you. Which you respond with, “She tells lies! I saw her reading and writing! She must be a witch, burn her at the stake!” Okay, so you knew this was morally wrong but it was either you or her. Thanks to your gaslighting and the brain deadness of the people, everyone took your side. It honestly was not that hard to convince them, they do witch burning of people every week because they had the ability to read.

Right now, you are currently watching a woman burn at the stake while she shouts profanities at you. You honestly could not believe that had worked, well at least your butt was saved. However, the more that Yandere! Priest thought about it, the more it made sense that you might actually be a witch. From your mannerism to your way of life, it was all odd. I mean normal people don’t just live in the middle of some random woods. Wait, no, that couldn’t be, you were something greater. For the remainder of his time he made sure to heavily observe you and anything you did. He kept these thoughts to himself until he fully recovered and was expected to leave your house. That was fine, he was willing to leave but not without you by his side. On this day, he hid your spell book to guarantee that you wouldn’t run away. With that he made his way back to his former village to start making preparations for your arrival.

You were frantically searching for your book. Where was it? You definitely couldn’t have misplaced, right? Just then, you hear a knock on the door and Yandere! Priest steps in. “I’m so grateful to see you again, I could bear being away from you. Even if it had only been two hours.” What? Now you were confused, what was he doing here again and what was he talking about? Seeing the confused look on your face he explains, “I’ve come to take you back with me. You see I am a priest and I now know that I was created in order to worship you.” With that he holds up your spell book. “I know what you are, a divine being greater than God. I’ll spend the rest of my day following your every demand. Come, I have already ordered the other priest to prepare your arrival. Let us worship you. You are the only one that can save us from this wretched world, please indulge us with your presence. We’ll make sure your word is law.”

You had such a look of disbelief written on your face. Holy crap did you just accidentally start up a cult?!?! Fuck.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Michael Myers (1/3)

Word Count; 3.7k

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I rolled onto my side, hand slamming down on the alarm. A groggy yawn escaped my lips. Daylight cascaded past the curtains. Normally, I’d loiter a little longer, but it was my first day at a new job, and I was carpooling with Irene, a sweet neighbor and mother of four with whom I became acquainted.

So, I stepped out of bed and went to the bathroom, going through my morning routine with extra care. I was tired, but despite that, motivated. After all, it was my first job straight out of college after having received my nursing degree. Sure, the job would probably be more intense than most… but my parents wanted me to return home.

I finished up a thin layer of makeup and got dressed. I supposed that I wouldn’t need to be all flashy since I’d be wearing a nursing outfit upon arrival, but I still wanted to leave a good impression on my new boss, Samuel Loomis.

I took my time eating breakfast. I was quite nervous, but I knew things would go smoothly. Sure, working at a sanitarium could be unsafe, but even the most dangerous members of society deserve to be treated with humanity. 

It was approaching half-past-eight, so I zoomed out the door. Irene was parked out front and I walked up to the car. I opened the door, greeting,” Hey, Irene!”

“Good morning, Y/n,” the black-haired Asian woman greeted. 

We headed through Haddonfield. The radio was turned to a minimum. We made some small talk on the drive, eventually exiting the main town and venturing through some forestry. We eventually approached the Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. I fiddled with my bag.

The guards let us through the front gate after confirming our identities. Irene parked near the front of the dismal grey building. All of the barred windows were off-putting. It must’ve gotten cold during the winter. 

“I hope you can last,” Irene sighed. “This job can be… stressful. It depends on who your assigned patients are, though. Mine are fairly nice, but some of our coworkers have experienced violence. And infrequently, death.”

Shivers rolled down my spine. I mustered no reply. We went to the front desk. “Hi, sir. I’m a new employee. Where am I supposed to go?” I asked the attendant, leaning against the counter.

He sent me a small smile. “I’ll call Doctor Loomis. He always insists on showing new employees around himself.”

He reached for the phone and pressed a button, calling for Doctor Loomis. Meanwhile, I sent Irene off since she had more pressing matters. 

A middle-aged man emerged from one of the doors a few minutes later. I recognized him immediately, as his book was incredibly popular, even today.

“Hello, sir!”

The man sent me a warm grin. “You must be Ms. L/n. There’s no time to waste. Let me show you around.”

“Great! Thank you for this opportunity, sir.”

A tour began. I was shaking in my boots, but hardly from the circumstances. I felt more at home in the sanitarium than in any other place, but I was determined to make a good impression on her new boss. The tour seemed almost redundant; it was as though I hadn’t been thoroughly introduced to the map in my pocket already.

“I have a patient that I’d like you to take special care of. Of course, there will be others, but this one… needs someone with such a sunny disposition such as yourself,” Dr. Loomis explained. “I’m sure you’ve heard and perhaps grown up with the stories of this particular patient: Michael Myers. He is a renowned serial killer.”

“Yes,” I replied chipperly. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Good, because you are going to right now.”

The abruptness took me aback. Anxiety attempted to curl against my insides, but I didn’t allow it. We halted in front of a door that was far sturdier than the others; the door looked fresh and new, which told a story all of its own. Dr. Loomis withdrew keys from his pocket and inserted one. I couldn’t help but gulp.

The door squeals open. I anticipate the deadpan stare as the man and I make immediate eye contact. I had only heard of his strange mask, but never had I seen what he actually looked like: brown, tussled, and overgrown hair. A sharp jawline. Bright blue eyes. Broad and tall. Everything that, under normal circumstances, would make a girl’s heart flutter. But mine was still. He sat in a perfect posture on the bed, and thick metal cuffs gave him little to no freedom with a chain stuck in the wall. 

“Michael. This is Y/n, your new nurse. I hired her to attend to — almost exclusively — your needs. I hope you two can get along. Ms. L/n?” Dr. Loomis introduced, ushering me in.

I grinned, trying to shake off the nerves. “Hello, Michael. I look forward to helping you out. Take it easy on me while I get used to the job, alright?”

“Very good. Now, Ms. L/n will get your lunch medication.”

I was startled but eagerly nodded, having already been shown and trained the how of it all. “Yes. It was wonderful to meet you, Michael.”

As Dr. Loomis and I exited, I felt his gaze glued to me. It was rather unnerving.

Ten minutes later, alone and armed only with my alarm, cell key, and medications, I returned. I took a deep breath. Little did Loomis know, but I had a vague history with Michael Myers. Although we never spoke, he had been in my kindergarten class all the way to when he went on a murder spree. I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew me, too.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t want to work at this specific sanitarium, even though it was my dream job. However, due to parental pressure, I was urged not to leave the area. Coincidentally, this was the only place hiring. Michael Myers was old enough that my parents didn’t bat an eye when I mentioned where I would be working, so it all fit together perfectly.

I entered the room with the small metal tray. Michael hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes bore into me — or perhaps beyond me — and his fists were still clenched in his lap. “Now, although I’m new,” I began,” I’m sure you know the drill. A few pills and a shot.”

I approached warily. Michael did nothing but blink. I sat the tray down on the bedside table, my moves calculated. I grabbed the styrofoam cup of water and handed it to him. He downed his pills with ease and took the shot like a champ. It put me on edge how still the man was. I carefully sat on the bed next to him.

“Although I was advised against breaching the five feet of the chain’s length, I hope you won’t mind. I just… wanted you to get to know me a little since I’ll be working closely with you.” His gaze flitted toward me, cold. “I just recently graduated from nursing school with a specialization in psychiatrics. I was born and raised in Haddonfield, the same as you. And this kind of job is my dream job since I believe that even criminals deserve care and to be treated as humans. So, Michael, I hope you understand that I will do my best to ensure you are well cared for, even in these conditions.”

As I expected, there was hardly any indication he had heard me at all. I stood and nodded. “Anyways, I believe it’s time for lunch. I’ve heard you aren’t allowed to eat with the others, but… I’m hoping I can change that.”

~~~

And change that I did. Dr. Loomis was surprised by Michael’s supposed ‘obedience,’ which had been there from the start. By the time he allowed me to take him to the cafeteria, I had been working there for two months. And although I watched closely, I had hardly noticed any changes in his behavior. My coworker, Irene, convinced me otherwise. With the dangerous stunts I’d been pulling proximity-wise, it was shocking that I had yet to end up like the others.

I wasn’t one to play dumb. I knew that Michael had the highest kill count with the nurses. With giant hands and a large body, he could easily overpower me, but the encouragement I’d gotten from my superiors kept me going. And today was major progress.

Guards clutched at his elbows as we walked down the sanitarium halls. I frowned slightly, knowing that if Michael wanted to do anything, he certainly could, cuffs or otherwise. I walked slightly ahead, having been entrusted with the keys to the cuffs. Although Michael would be somewhat separated, Dr. Loomis believed this to be major news for Michael’s rehabilitation — and now, the doctor was supporting me in risky endeavors.

I grabbed lunch for him as the guards settled him in the corner of the cafeteria. Eyes from the other patients were stuck to me, as I’d only been vaguely introduced. I. Mainly worked with Michael, although I covered a shift for the nurse who works with Marcus — and I understood why she called off so often.

Marcus was an interesting subject. He was a serial rapist, and it showed. Despite his history, Dr. Loomis often had female nurses working with him. And when I did, he did nothing but spit cruel, perverse cat calls at me. I heard a familiar whistle and knew it had come from his general area. I wasn’t surprised that the serial killer made me more comfortable than the rapist.

I returned to Michael with his food. His eyes bore into me, and I smiled. “Now, Michael, I had to pull many strings for this. I hope you appreciate this, but I’m allowed to remove your cuffs for a more comfortable eating experience.”

Michael's eyes flickered to his hands and back to me. I noticed his lips twitched, too. Progress, I chanted in my head. This was progress.

The guards took the handcuffs and held them tightly. They were trained to assess everyone and everything as a threat. Michael was slow and calculated, rolling his wrists. He then took his fork and ate. A sense of intrigue fell over the other patients, and some of the other nurses had their eyes glued to Michael’s form. They were waiting for a freakout that wouldn’t happen, either because Michael was making progress or because he wasn’t dumb enough to plan a breakout in this environment.

Mealtime passed without a hitch. I spent the entire time saddled up beside him. My job felt meaningful as I sat with him. When it was time for him to be escorted back to his room, I told Michael I would see about more comfortable handcuffs for him. Exiting the cafeteria was without hitches, minus a loud holler from Marcus, to which I couldn’t help but notice how Michael’s hands clenched.

When he was safely back in his cell, I decided to try another risky maneuver; I set him free from his restraints and sat beside him on the bed. Michael was still; he always was. I cleared my throat, beginning my typical speech of positivity.

“I know it probably seems silly to you, Michael, but I’m quite proud of you. I’m glad you’re challenging expectations here. You’re really making progress, whether you admit to it or not, and I thank you for that.”

~~~ 

Or so I thought. That night, my landline awoke me from a deep slumber. I thought nothing of it, deciding I wouldn’t be a pushover and pick up another night shift at work. However, the ringing persisted. And when it stopped momentarily, it came again.

I rolled out of bed. My hair was disheveled, and my purple silk pajamas — a gracious housewarming gift from my mother — were crumpled and twisted slightly. I shuffled downstairs, the ringing getting louder the closer I grew. I finally made it to the phone. 

“Hello —“

“L/n, you need to get down here right now! It’s an emergency —“

“Dr. Loomis, what —“

“He’s gone on a rampage. Twelve nurses are dead, and so are five patients —“

“I’ll be right there!”

The line went dead instantly. My mouth no longer felt dry. I was fully alert, although some sleep persisted in the creases of my eyes. I dashed upstairs and pulled on my earlier clothes, which lay scattered on the ground. With that, I made it to my bright blue buggy and drove to my endangered work site.

I’m not entirely sure what motivated me. I thought the police would better handle the situation, and it felt as though all of my efforts had been reduced to nothing. Something had set him off. But I wasn’t a therapist. I shouldn’t have crossed that boundary of trying to give him opportunities.

I pulled into the parking lot.

The moment I exited the car, I heard screaming. Several police cars were parked in front of the sanitarium's entrance. A group of police officers was huddled, but even they seemed worried. I pushed past despite warnings to remain outside. I dashed through the entrance. I followed the sound of the screams. 

And upon entering the prisoner hallways, I found her. My dear friend and coworker, Irene. She lay in the middle of the hallway as a twitching, bloody mess. A weapon had clearly been used: the handcuffs. Her head was bashed in, but there was also bruising around her throat. She’s been bashed and choked to death.

The halls were eerily silent. All of the cells had been unlocked. Some of the patients’ corpses were scattered. All of this destruction… was done by one man.

What had I done? What part of Michael had I unlocked?

I skulked down the hallways. Where were the guards? Where were the police? Where was anybody?

I passed by deceased coworkers as I skulked carefully down the hallways. Occasionally, some of the corpses released dying breaths, but I was certain I was following the blood. And then, as I glanced at the floor, I noticed the smears stopped and bloody footsteps began. The feet were large, and the shoe prints belonged to prisoner shoewear. I gulped, recognizing that the footsteps went straight toward the cafeteria entrance. Worst of all, if Michael discovered the back exit for the cafeteria staff, he would be free.

The doors were wide open, and one was even off the hinges. I stood in the entrance. It was pitch black inside, although the lights sometimes flickered on and off. The footsteps seemed to fade out very quickly into the cafeteria. 

I gulped and took a step back. What was I thinking? That I could confront him? The man was a mammoth and a maniac. I was just the nurse who supported his development. He probably hated my guts, despite what Dr. Loomis thought.

None of the bodies belonged to Dr. Loomis. So where was he? And where was Michael?

I wasn’t left wondering for very long. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed some postils gleaming from the hallway to my right. The police were here, and I was nothing more than bait. No wonder they let me through so easily. Shivers rolled down my spine, and I took two steps into the blackness of the cafeteria.

As the lights flickered on, I saw him. He was holding the corpse of Marcus, that damned patient. I didn’t feel too bad about him, but I was shaking in my boots as the body fell to the ground, and Michael’s gaze turned directly toward me.

His expression had not changed from that of any other day. Cold. Calm. Empty.

And as though he was gliding, he made a beeline toward me. So many questions about his escape flashed through my cranium, and all I could do was freeze in place. A scream remained silent in my throat as I put my trust in the police to be right behind me. My fists clenched, and I opened my mouth just as Michael was a few feet away from me.

“Michael, stop!”

He did.

That made my heart drop to my stomach. However, I realized I did hold some power. I was waiting desperately for the police to enter and intervene, but they were waiting. I decidedly didn’t want them to and took a step back. Michael tilted his head, unblinking. He stayed frozen in place. A plastic knife with the handle broken off was in his bloodied hands, and I noticed some gelatin goo was sticking to the tips. His jumpsuit was drenched and sprayed, as was his face. His hair had never looked more tussled. And even without smiling, he had never seemed more gleeful.

“Michael, what… what is happening? Why did you… do this?”

Before Michael could even think, shuffling footsteps came from behind me. My jaw dropped as an arm suddenly looped around my waist and pulled me away. But Michael just stood standing still as gunshots drilled into his chest. And then, finally, he dropped.

~~~

“Ms. L/n, I understand —“

“No, Dr. Loomis, you don’t,” I pleaded, my aggravation present. “Michael is alive and detained. Something I did set him off, or he was planning it. Nothing I can do will help. I refuse to return to work. I am quitting, effective immediately.”

Dr. Loomis, from behind his work desk, suddenly banged his fists into the desk. “L/n! I know it’s been hard on everyone, but we need you here. We’ve lost twelve nurses. The nurse-to-patient ratio isn’t adding up. The sanitarium is overrun and, if even for the short term, we need you here. I know what we went through was hard, and what happened here can’t happen again.”

“But it will. Does anyone even know how he escaped?” I quipped snappily. “He never even managed to escape his handcuffs. He didn’t need to. So who’s to say it won’t happen again?”

“Because he is being sent away to a sanitarium called Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. It has a high level of security, far better than ours —“

“Good. But that doesn’t mean I am capable of returning to work. I am leaving now, Dr. Loomis.”

With an exasperated expression, Dr. Loomis grasped at the air where I once sat. I didn’t glance back as I exited the office. And I didn’t spare any moments to analyze my surroundings until I was in my car on the road heading far, far away from the sanitarium.

My parents, having finally connected the dots about my job, had been scared shitless. Luckily, it was summer, and the Haddonfield High School was hiring for a new biology position. I was planning to apply to keep things rolling. Deep down, though, I just wanted to ditch this town and escape the parental pressures I was forced into. It was a little late for that, though. The damage had been done.

~~~

For class that day, I had been gracious. I put on the Charlie Brown Halloween movie and sat at my desk. I couldn’t help but notice that as most kids were either passing notes, doodling, or watching, I had one student whose eyes were glued to the window. Laurie had her pen stuck in her mouth as she adamantly stared out.

Suddenly, Laurie looked rather alarmed and made direct eye contact with me. “Ma’am?”

“Yes, Laurie?”

“Can - can I go to the bathroom?”

I paused, glancing out the window for myself. A car was driving away. “Yes, Laurie, go ahead.”

Some of the kids snickered, to which I sent a stern glare. I went back to grading papers, instead getting lost in thought. Teaching was hardly my calling. I was a natural stutterer in the wrong element and did not enjoy disciplining undisciplined children. I also felt that it was dull to go back to the basics, which I would probably end up doing year after year with no change. I knew I had a lot of liberty and the job paid well, but it wasn’t like my time at the sanitarium, with doubled paychecks and a routine that wasn’t up to me. However, I promised my parents to stick around until a better job opportunity popped up.

The movie credits were suddenly rolling, and a student alerted me from my position. Laurie had rejoined the group at some point. I flicked off the television. 

“Well, since I’m everybody’s favorite teacher, and it’s Halloween, why don’t you all just head out early? Class dismissed. Don’t cause any ruckus. I’m looking at you, Tommy.” 

I sent a friendly grin, and the students whooped and hollered. Laurie only glanced away from the window and began packing her things. Laurie was a good student: studious, communicative, and attentive. Perhaps movie days just weren’t her style. Several students came up to talk to me in a line after class, wishing me a happy holiday or asking about grades. Laurie slunk out of the classroom quietly.

After the classroom had been evacuated, I sighed, and out of morbid curiosity, I wandered over to Laurie’s seat. I was taken aback as I recognized that the car from earlier had returned, but even more disturbing, a tall figure with a white mask and brown hair loomed over the vehicle. He made direct eye contact with me.

My brain began processing so many horrors all at once. I hadn’t thought about Michael specifically in months, but it all came flooding back. His history… but it was also Halloween. And no news had come to me about Michael’s escape. Not from Dr. Loomis or the papers.

Regardless, I stumbled back, blinking at the masked figure. We maintained a long, steady eye contact. Even when a man walking his dog strolled on the opposite side of the street, I knew the masked figure’s gaze remained glued to me. 

It couldn’t be Michael. It was a creepy Halloween prank…

I steeled myself and wandered back to my desk. I hurriedly packed up, abandoning the biology tests on the desk in a flurry. Prank or otherwise, I was thoroughly disturbed and wanted to escape that man’s gaze.

When I glanced out the window one last time, the car and man were long gone.

[opencommunion]

"The extent and severity of violence in the occupied West Bank have been increasing exponentially – especially with the lack of health services and the long distances taken to reach medical care – inflicted by settlers and facilitated by the IOF.

A report by Doctors Without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières) reflects on the situation via testimonies by residents starting with Mahmud Mousa Abu Eram, a Palestinian man from al-Khalil, who said, 'We walk for hours to reach the health facilities. Sometimes we use the donkeys to transfer sick people to the hospital or to the clinic.'

'There hasn't been transportation in this area for a long time, and even if there is a car to drop us to any clinic, the Israeli army confiscates the cars,' he added.

The level of violence in the occupied town of Masafer Yatta has been instilling an increased amount of fear in Palestinian homes. An anonymous MSF patient said, 'Most of the time it is forbidden to stand at the window. One day when I was standing at the window, a settler saw me and complained to the soldiers,' adding, 'The soldiers stormed my house and destroyed everything in it.'

Last month, the report confirmed that a volunteer paramedic was shot in the Tulkarm and Nur Shams camps, and it took almost seven hours for him to reach the hospital. Meanwhile, a separate incident showed that MSF staff members were unable to save the life of a 16-year-old child after being shot in the head. Itta Helland-Hansen, MSF project coordinator in Jenin, said, 'His father, also a paramedic trained by MSF, learned the news of his son’s killing while working in the ambulance.'

A medic from the al-Arrub refugee camp between al-Khalil and Beit Lahm said, 'Most of the time, ambulances are blocked at checkpoints. Even in cases of medical emergencies and when we have the siren on,' noting, 'How long they stop us for does not depend on the medical emergency, it depends on the mood of the soldiers.' 'They make us wait for one or two hours... Or they make us take another road. If the patient has a gunshot wound from the Israeli army, they can arrest the patient and even confiscate the ambulance. We don’t know what will happen to the patient then, if they will bring him to a hospital or to a prison and if he will receive medical care in the prison,' he expressed."

16 May 24