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#Or I could. you know. open twenty new tabs
veunho · 7 months
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I live for authors doing this shit
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logansdoll · 2 months
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thinking about logan x reader who’s literally the most introverted but bluntest person he’s ever met. that meet-cute (if it could be called that…?) would be entertaining as hell
cottontail
wolverines are known to prey on rabbits... which would explain why Logan was looking at you like that.
CW: fluffy fluff, heavily suggestive, profanity, i kinda changed it up a bit, takes place after X-Men (2000), reader is a bit of a personality, reader also has a bunny mutation, again kinda iffy on how this turned out, etc. (@OstarwomenO for the inspiration)
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"And, finally, the gym," Ororo finished, motioning toward the door. "Much like the Danger Room, we use it to train or spar, but strictly without powers."
Logan cocked a brow, ears perking at the faint sound of music coming from the other side of the door, along with the rhythmic thuds of limbs slamming against a mat.
'Huh...'
Ororo insisted on giving him the official tour of the mansion now that he was back from his trip to Alkali, seeing as she never got the chance to when he first arrived.
And, of course—Logan being Logan—he waved her off, insisting he'd be able to figure it out.
But the woman did not take no for an answer.
"Someone in there?" he asked, shifting his cigar to the side of his mouth as his thumb jutted toward the door.
"Just (y/n)," she shrugged, an amused smile rising her to lips. "It's actually kinda ironic, she rolled in about an hour before you did yesterday."
That was the new smell he picked up on.
It was the same one the hallway was currently drowning in—not that he was complaining.
It was sweet and musky, with faint, floral notes and a smidgen bit of earth—like taking a breath of fresh air in the middle of a meadow.
"And I didn't run into her?" Logan raised a brow, feigning indifference.
Ororo let out a dry chuckle, as if she was in on a joke he wasn't, "(y/n)'s a... character. She kinda does her own thing around here."
Character?
Forget indifference, the man was intrigued.
"I can introduce you if you'd like," she nodded, her eyes widening slightly, remembering something. "Fair warning, she says whatever she wants. So just... don't be shocked when she says something appalling. She's a sweetheart once you get to know her."
'Jesus...'
She made it sound like he was about to meet some sort of feral grizzly bear.
Logan shrugged, and she let out a sigh, pressing the keypad and opening up the door to reveal you.
Grizzly?
No.
Feral?
Entirely possible.
With a wide grin, you weaved around, dodging jabs from the automated dummy before back-flipping onto the wall and pushing off like a spring.
Tackling the robot, you slammed its head into the ground, winding for a second blow when it suddenly bucked you off.
You recovered quickly, shifting in mid-air so you landed on your feet, before launching another attack.
Jumping high, you landed right on the dummy's shoulders, locking your thighs around its neck before effortlessly throwing around your body weight, sending it crashing to the ground
But that wasn't it.
With a soft grunt, and a small twist of your legs, you popped its head right off in a flourish of sparks and circuits—the action sending a warm tingle through Logan's stomach.
'Damn...'
You pulled yourself up off the ground with a laugh, grabbing the robot's body and tossing it in a pile in the corner—which consisted of at least twenty others.
"Finally," you sighed, jokingly, as the two entered further.
You sauntered over to your boombox and cut the music, dusting off your hands.
"This is a disgrace. How the hell are the kids supposed to learn from these things, 'Roro? They barely last two minutes."
She playfully rolled her eyes, fighting off her smile as she pulled you into a hug, "I hope you know you're paying for those."
You chuckled, giving her a loving pat on the back, "Put 'em on my tab."
Logan was still transfixed.
In all his years, he had never seen a mutant like you before.
(h/l), (h/c) hair, plump lips, heavenly curves, made evident by your workout clothes, or slight lack thereof, stark white bunny ears, equally white tail, paired with alluring (e/c) eyes.
You were dripping in beauty and confidence.
Logan, so mesmerized, didn't even realize that you'd already cruised your way over, and were now standing directly in front him.
"I take it you're Logan," you smiled, shamelessly staring at him. "If I knew you were this handsome, I woulda introduced myself sooner."
"(n/n)," Ororo scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose.
'Here we go...'
"Is that so?" Logan smirked, amused by your blunt start to the conversation.
"Hell yeah," you nodded, shifting you weight on your hips
You weren't stupid.
You saw the way he was staring at you, and you heard the way his heart frenzied when you walked over.
So what's to say you couldn't have a little fun?
After all, it wasn't every day you'd meet someone as sexy as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding.
"Of course, I could always do that over a few rounds."
His brow quirked with interest, eyes slowly flitting over your body at the proposition.
"On the mat, that is..." you chuckled, reading him loud and clear as you turned to walk toward the sparring area, stretching out your arms.
"That works, too," he grinned, tugging off his leather jacket.
"You two are doing this? Really?" Ororo groaned, resting a hand on her hip.
"Yup."
"She asked for it."
Ororo sighed, deciding to check herself out for the day and head for the door.
"Y'know what? Knock yourselves out. I'm gonna take a nap," she waved, turning the corner. "Don't break anything."
Logan scoffed, cracking his neck as he stepped onto his side of the circle, "No promises..."
You grinned, pleasantly surprised by his seriousness.
Many assume that because of your mutation, you're just some helpless little rabbit—as kids, you and Scott got into a huge argument when you caught him pulling his punches.
But Logan seemed ready to throw down, a fact that not only excited you, but made the man move up a great many rungs in your respect ladder.
"You sure you want this?" you smirked, lowering yourself into a split, stretching your legs. "I don't go easy."
'Goddamn, how flexible is she—'
"Neither do I," he snapped himself back, playing it off with a chuckle. "Let's see how long you last."
You scoffed, tongue in cheek as you stood up, shifting into a defensive stance.
'I'm gonna kick your ass, mutton chops."
"I'd like to see ya try, cottontail."
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strawbeerossi · 11 months
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Sweet Treat
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.
Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex
Word Count: 2.4K
Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.
A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.
“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”
And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.
Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.
He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.
You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.
“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.
It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?
Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘
Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.
“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.
Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.
Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.
You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.
“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”
“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.
“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.
The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.
“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.
You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.
You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.
Your body was perfect.
As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.
“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.
The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.
Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.
He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.
“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.
When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.
Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.
His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.
“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.
“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”
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dokries · 3 months
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always
pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader
genre: comfort, established relationship
word count: 589
warnings: reader cries and feels insecure/embarrassed, a couple of kisses, kkuma is mentioned because i love her (she is always the true main character)
author note: thank you anon for requesting this!! i hope you like it <3 lots of love !
masterlist
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maybe you were expecting too much from an interview that you had gotten hold of at the last minute. of course, you were referred, and honestly? it would’ve been perfect for you—it had good pay, a location you could easily get to, and good benefits in general, with the company’s medical insurance being one of the best in the area.
but now as the glaring letters on your laptop screen tell you that you weren’t accepted, you simply stare, absorbing the information in like the last twenty minutes. maybe…maybe it just isn’t meant to be, and that’s okay.
seungcheol enters with his hands in his pockets as he walks towards you before he pauses, seeing your face properly in the dimly lit bedroom. “baby, wanna check out the new clip i got kkuma today—baby?”
your boyfriend’s immediately at your side, the bow clips previously in his grip now on the table in front of the two of you, as his hands now hold your arms gently.
he looks up at you concerned, and you can’t help but let out a sob as he pulls you into a hug, rubbing small shapes in your back to help calm you down, and murmuring softly. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”
eventually, your breathing evens out and when you lean back to look at seungcheol, you immediately miss his warmth, so you hold onto one of his hands.
he frowns at your red eyes and lightly wipes the leftover tears on your face with the hand you’re not holding. “do you wanna talk about it?”
his comforting smile almost makes you cry again, and you nod, staring down at your intertwined hands as you speak. “i…i applied for this job and didn’t tell you because i was scared it wasn’t going to work out, and i didn’t want to embarrass myself.”
as seungcheol opens his mouth to interject, you shake his head to stop him. “yeah, yeah, ‘you shouldn’t be embarrassed because you’re my partner and i love you no matter what.’ that’s what you were about to say, right?”
your boyfriend nods slowly, pouting as you move your head to nod toward the tab you have open on your laptop. “i got that today and i…i guess i still was expecting it to work out?” you sigh deeply, squeezing his hand. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, cheol.”
seungcheol listens to you intently before speaking softly. “it’s alright. i’m glad you told me now, and that you were honest about your feelings—that’s what’s most important, right?” he gently rubs his thumb over your palm, as he continues. “i know this is basic but there will always be more opportunities, and i’ll be there to support you, always.”
he raises an eyebrow, asking for you to agree with him, and you nod with a chuckle. “and i’ll always be there for you too.”
satisfied, your boyfriend smiles and he hesitates before picking up the forgotten clips he wanted to show to you in the first place. “maybe you should take a little break? as much as i hate to admit it, i know kkuma would love it if you came to watch tv with us…and maybe we could try out these on her?”
you smile before placing a kiss on his cheek shyly, embarrassed that you cried in front of him, no matter how supporting he always manages to be. “thank you, cheol.”
he grins and pulls you up, keeping your hands interlocked as he gives you a peck on the forehead, whispering, “always.”
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joelmillers-whore · 1 year
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Hard Light | Chapter 1
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summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 
pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader
word count: 2.2K
series or one-shot
warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)
AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.
You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.
So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet. 
A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.
The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight—  and expense off of your shoulders. 
You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.
You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it. 
It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.
But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory. 
In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.
You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money. 
You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.
You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer. 
Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop. 
The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell. 
"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here". 
You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.
Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college. 
Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was. 
Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust. 
"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up. 
Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided. 
You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning". 
You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?". 
You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude". 
He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".  
You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.
You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double. 
Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift. 
You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one. 
Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you. 
You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want. 
It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.
You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material. 
With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.
Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk. 
You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight. 
The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.
He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.  
The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers". 
He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on". 
Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed. 
Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester". 
You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips. 
"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold. 
His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you. 
You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture. 
Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester. 
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elysianightsss · 7 months
Text
Limerence | Six
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C H A P T E R SIX
limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)
“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”
Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.
Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader
Status: Ongoing.
Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.
Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.
Chapter Warnings: Yandere behaviour brought to you by Suguru, mentions of a scar, pups mentioned, violence, Suguru being a pantie thief.
Masterlist | Chapter Five | Chapter Seven
Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06 @itsberrydreemurstuff @queen-luna-007 @thepeachesclub @xxemmarldxx @elleflying07
Taglist is open.
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Previously on Limerence:
“Jade.”
“Yes. Jade. She will be tried for having attacked a soulmate, as well as some other things we’ve found but she’ll get thirty years just for attacking you.” Yuji smiled, he was happy she would be put away for harming you.
“Wow.” Your eyes start to sting with tears, you’re not even sure why. Yuji doesn’t ask, instead he pulls you into his lap for a cuddle. Even though you tense at the soft foreign touch, you allow him to move you as he pleased and comfort you in the way he knows how to.
“It’s okay. It’s over now.” He whispered gently stroking your hair as he hugged you to him. A few moments of silent thought passed before he spoke once more, “I understand this has been a very long and exhausting day for you, I understand this is so new to you. We all understand. We especially hope the incidents that have occurred today has not stopped you from accepting us as your mates. Though we can all have a serious discussion about that later.”
Yuji’s hand cupped your cheek leading your eyes to meet his, “I will say this, no one will ever hurt you again for as long as I live. This I vow to you.”
You were quite shocked, no one had ever said something like this to you before, it made your heart thump quicker in your chest until you felt it was about to burst. You could feel it in your throat, pulsing, beating so hard your head hurt. You wanted to thank him, kiss him, hold him so tight and never let him go. Your body worked against your mind and omega, your head simply nodding. You cursed yourself but seeing his joy at just your acceptance was enough to help you relax.
“Can I stay and watch you work? It’s a little…crowded out there.” You gesture to the hallway, thinking of the nest with three of your mates sleeping peacefully.
He chuckles knowing exactly what you mean, “Of course angel.” Yuji smiles happily and continues quietly working on his computer, you shuffle a bit getting comfortable on his lap. Surprisingly you found his work boring and unsurprisingly you fell asleep. Yuji smiled at the sight, you felt comfortable enough to sleep on him, it was more than he could have ever asked for with his mate. Even when he turned twenty seven he was unsure whether or not he’d find his mate.
Now that he had, it was his job to protect you as best he could. He knew he wouldn’t be around you all the time and there would indeed be times where all of them were busy at the same time, there was no guarantee you would always be safe. Unless he got you someone who could protect you day and night. A bodyguard. Swiftly he opened a new tab on his computer searching through the company’s alphas who had completed their training, he scrolled to the ones who were best in all their divisions.
He saw a name quite familiar to him, Toji Fushiguro . Mated. Married to Aiko Fushiguro. Two children. He was perfect. Yuji would of course consult with his pack alpha before making any decisions, but he was quick to make a note of it so he could talk to Kento when he was in a better headspace.
At this same time, Kenjaku was busy sorting the Jade business. In fact he was staring her down right now, trying to calm his wolf so he wouldn’t break through the iron bars that were between him and her. She was sulking, pouting, she actually had the audacity to sulk after attacking his mate. Disgusting. He wanted to rip her limb from limb for her crimes.
His entire body shook as he listened to the police officer explain how she would be processed, never once did his murderous eyes waver from her figure. She was now his target, she was now his prey. He would do everything in his power to make sure she never saw the outside of a jail cell ever again. To make sure she knows what real pain feels like. To make sure she suffers.
Kenjaku can’t get the memory of you like that out of his head, you with a handprint marking up your pretty face, you with the back of your clothes torn open by the bitch’s claws, a big rugged scar on your back for everyone to see. You looking so dazed and weak with tears filling your eyes, he couldn’t stand it. He still can’t.
But he’ll endure. For you, he’ll endure.
Meanwhile Suguru had gone to your apartment to get your anxiety medication, per a feral Kento’s order. He wasn’t going to disagree, not when the savageness was sparkling in his pack alpha’s eyes. He went straight away to fetch the pills, catching the keys to your place in his hand and driving there with the help of the sat nav.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he entered your place but it wasn’t this. Dull, lifeless colours painting the walls. Black, white and grey all over the place, not even a hint of colour. It had his hands itching to grab his phone and go on Titsi and fill your home with colourful nesting blankets and pillows. Focusing back on the issue, he searched the bathroom first. Looking through the mirror cabinet, his eyes scanning over the lotions, perfumes and bath stuff all fully stocked. Some of them not even opened, most of them barely used.
It had Suguru frowning, did you not have relaxing bubble baths after stressful days or weeks at work? Did you not massage lotion into your beautiful skin after the aforementioned bubble baths? Did you not spritz the sweet perfume on your still damp body? Well he would just have to fix that. Honestly he was getting excited just thinking about taking care of you in such a way.
Of getting to delicately scrub your body, ridding it of dirt and stress, while you played with the soapy bubbles. You letting him gently rub lotion into your dehydrated skin, the way you would sigh happily when he would press harder on that particularly tight spot. The way he would spray a little bit of that lovely perfume you wear on you once you were fully satisfied.
He couldn’t wait to love on you. But for now he didn’t have time to fantasise, he had pills to find. He closed the cabinet after taking a quick whiff of your perfume and headed into the bedroom. Inside once again it was dull, except for something he spotted shoved in the corner, almost hidden from eyesight before a reading chair.
A bright pink bunny, very dirty and roughed up. But it was the only colourful thing he saw in the entire apartment. He picked it up, it looked like a children’s stuffed toy. Maybe it was yours when you were little? But why had you left it so dirty? Why was it so damaged? Another thing for him to fix.
Suguru placed it back down and scanned the bedside tables, even looking through the drawers. He didn’t find the pills, though he found a different kind of toy. A simple purple silicone mould, no details but very obvious what it was. He tried not to let the smirk on his face grow as he put it back and shut the drawer. He moved over to the drawers filled with your clothes, opening them one by one from bottom to top. Finally he opened the last one, filled with your underwear and fuck he couldn’t help himself.
Picking a pair up he brought it up to his nose taking a huge whiff, he groaned at your scent that still lingered on them. After slipping a pair into his pocket he moved on to the kitchen he finally spotted them, the anxiety medication that Kento had ordered him to get for you.
Suguru was intrigued, truly, he didn’t mean to snoop but with how interesting the rest of your house was he couldn’t help himself. He checked all the kitchen drawers and cupboards, your fridge-freezer and he didn’t like what he found one bit. A couple packs of ramen and some out of date milk. How were you living like this? He instantly made a note on his phone to find out your bank account details and transfer money into it, as well as giving you his black card.
While he’s at it he makes note to add your name to the lease of their new house. Their current house was much too small for all of them to fit, you didn’t have your own room and there was certainly no room for pups. Pups. He had to swallow down the primal urges that were rising within him and threatening to take over him. Taking one last look at your place, he left locking the door, deciding in his head how sad your life must be to have the absence of colour in every aspect of your home.
The drive back was quiet, even with the radio playing music, he was in his head the whole time thinking about you and that empty space you called home. Did it represent something more? Or was it just him overthinking something that means nothing. And what about the florescent pink bunny, hidden in the corner?
By the time he had arrived it was night time, the street lamps giving a golden glow to the street, he stepped out of his car pills in hand as he crossed the road to his house. The outside of it was dark blue, only a few lights were on, shining through the windows. He wondered if you were still up or if you’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone else’s home.
What he found was not what he was expecting. Inside the nesting room was a distraught Kento sat on the end of the bed with his head in his hands. Satoru and Sukuna were trying to console him but it wasn’t working as he continued to blame himself over what had happened.
“Where is she?” Suguru asked, waiting patiently for one of his brothers to give him a reply.
“With Yuji. In his office” Sukuna whispered shooing him away with his hand so he could listen to Kento.
Suguru rolled his eyes and made his way to Yuji’s office. Sure enough you were sat inside, on the lap of his brother no less, asleep. Yuji smiled, “All good?” The words came out a whisper, but Suguru heard them and nodded walking further into the room and placing the bottle of pills on the desk. Yuji read your name on there and the medication type. “She has anxiety?” Yuji asked more to himself.
“Don’t we all?” Suguru joked making his brother give him a ‘shut the fuck up’ look. He raised his hands up in a show of surrender, smirk still on his face.
“I just mean, I didn’t know she had it to the extent of having to take meds for it.” Yuji explained his thoughts glancing down at you.
“Neither did I. None of us do. I guess I realised that when I was at her place too. None of us know her yet, we don’t know anything about her, her life, her family. None of it. We’ve known her for a day, not even a full day either.” Suguru sighed, he couldn’t wait to learn more about you.
“We will soon. I’m excited for the days I know all there is to know. I will feel like I’m complete as her mate.” Yuji laughed with joy on his face only for Suguru to wipe it away.
“Something tells me there will always be something new to learn with our gorgeous mate.”
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cupidddd-d · 3 months
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i knew i'd never let you get away
now playing ... 4ever by clairo
pt. 1
wc: 662
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it had been three years without you. one thousand and ninety-five days without you. twenty-six thousand, two hundred and ninety-eight hours. it had been too long living without you, and it was enough to make a lesser man go insane. every second without you was agony, but he would soon be able to rectify his biggest mistake: not being the man you deserved.
he thought he would be happy if he had his family, that he could learn to love his wife one day, but he was wrong. none of it meant anything if he didn't have you. you were the light of his life, his first thought in the morning and his last thought just before he fell asleep.
wake up, pat the sheets next to him in his half-asleep daze to check if you were still there. you aren't. you never are anymore. eat breakfast, miss your cooking and how you always made sure he was well-fed. go to work, his only distraction from you. come home, look down at the keychain you had given to him after a date at the carnival as he unlocks the door. eat dinner, yearn to be back in your kitchen and in your arms. you used to dance with him under the fluorescent lights as you waited for the food to finish cooking.
sometimes when he showers, he still feels the ghost of your fingers in his hair. and when he closes his eyes, the warmth of the water almost feels like you again. the water bill had never been higher.
and of course he had been keeping tabs on you throughout your time apart. he'd made you a promise, after all. he needed to be able to find you. you had become an art dealer now like you had always wanted, and, true to your promise, you waited for him.
you still live in the same house. you never dated anyone new. despite everything he had done to you, you waited for him. you're still waiting for him.
that fact was enough for him to gather the courage to come back to you again. he had waited long enough to be with you. the divorce with his wife had been finalized a year ago, but the last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your life while you were trying to move on.
he stands in front of your art gallery, nervously adjusting his tie and brushing away any loose strands of hair. he takes in frantic gulps of air, steeling himself as he walks inside.
he clasps his hands behind his back, trying to look every bit of the proper gentleman he aspires to be.
"hello, is there something i can help you find-" it's you. he feels his knees grow weak, the breath getting knocked out of his lungs. you're so beautiful. how did he go so long without seeing your face like this?
"-satoru," you say softly, a dazzling smile lighting up your features. just when he thought you couldn't be prettier, you're smiling. at him.
he's imagined your reunion a thousand times over. and he's dreamed about it twice as much, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. that knowing twinkle in your eye was something his mind never could have conjured, which makes this moment so much better.
he stands there like an idiot, his mouth gaping open. "i came back for you, baby. like i promised," he chokes out, his voice thin and breathless.
you stay silent, just grinning at him before you launch yourself into his arms. he catches you without hesitation, one arm around your waist and the other cradling the back of your head. like always.
he has a silent moment of gratitude to all the gods in existence, thanking them for leading him back to you. he's not a religious man, but as he stands there, with you finally back in his arms, he thinks that maybe he could be.
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tags:
@dekusdante @drownedpoetess
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grippingbeskar · 2 years
Text
strip poker
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matt murdock x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content 18+ minors dni (mxf, dirty talk, honestly kind of tame if i’m honest) swearing, gambling?? idk it’s literally the title
a/n: i have been getting a few messages to write more matt so HERE IS ME FULFILLING THAT REQUEST! i’m so glad you guys liked the first one! hope you enjoy! also this gif is how i imagine him looking for the whole first part. fuxk he’s so hot anyways.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How is that even possible?” You shout, nearly spilling your beer on the already sticky table at Josie’s. You’d been playing poker in the shitty little set up at the back, a bunch of screwed up twenty dollar bills half heartedly thrown in as Matthew Murdock won yet another round.
“It’s unfair, really. Gets the looks and the brains. He either folds right away, or wins the whole game.” Foggy shakes his head, shoving Matt on the shoulder. “I lost a lotta money to this guy in college.”
“Yet you still play him.” Karen chucks her cards in the centre, watching Foggy re-shuffle the deck while Matt takes his winnings, shrugging.
“I didn’t say I learnt from it.”
“But how does that even…work? Because, you’re—well, you know…” You lean back, trying not to think about Matt’s attention, and how it had been on you the whole night. Especially now, as his fingers card through the new wad of cash in his hands, almost like he’s doing it just for you.
“Blind?” He smiles, and you make a noise of agreement while finishing off your beer. “I’m just very good at reading people.”
“Oh, I get it. You cheat, don’t you? Feel the fibres in the cards or whatever.” He scoffs, shaking his head.
“Feel the fibres?”
“Okay— well, it’s something like that, though. Isn’t it?” Even Foggy was interested now, snatching the deck that was now in the centre of the table. Matt shrugs again, hanging one arm around the empty chair next to him.
“I don’t cheat. Most people give away their hand as soon as they open their mouth. You just have to know the tell. Poker is just a waiting game.” He says it casually like winning every single poker game he’s ever played is the simplest thing in the world. “Plus, like you said. It’s not like I can look over your shoulder, can I? How would I cheat?”
“Well, whatever it is, I hope it fails, because I need to start paying off this tab if Josie’s gonna serve us anymore.” Foggy deals out the cards, and you watch Matt intently. He never even picks up his cards, just sits there with one hand wrapped around his beer, head turned in your direction. “Alright, Karen?”
“I’m out. I’m running out of money.” Foggy boo’s, and she laughs, sliding off her chair. “Maybe if my boss’ paid me more, I’d be in.”
“Okay, ouch.” Foggy pouts, but deals your cards, skipping over Karen’s empty seat. “Matthew, you start.”
“I’m in.” He smirks, his free hand lightly tracing around the edges of his face-down cards. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
“In.” You look at Foggy, and he sighs, pushing in his money as well.
“Last round. I’m all in.” All in doesn’t mean a lot to Foggy considering he’d only had about two chips and a one dollar bill left, but you and Matt still had a fair amount. Both of you match his bet, and he flips over another card. “Well, fuck.”
“See? Everyone’s got a tell.” Matt laughs and you roll your eyes. Foggy chucks his cards in the centre.
“Anyone could tell Foggy was gonna lose.”
“Hey! I had a fair chance about an hour ago.” Leaving both you and Matt laughing, he turns to go find Karen. “You two kids get home safe, okay?”
“I’ll look after her.” He says, his head still angled towards you. Your grip on the cards in your hand gets a little tighter, and he taps his finger on the table, asking you to flip another card. “Come on. You aren’t giving up yet, are you?”
“Definitely not.” You flip the last card, and it’s a King. The one you were looking for— you had a full house. A strong hand, but you didn’t want to give yourself away. You say nothing, remembering what Matt said earlier, and he smiles after a beat of silence.
“You aren’t talking to me now?” He teases, leaning over the table on his forearms to get a little closer to you. He smells like beer and cedar— a strange combination, but somehow intoxicating on him. “You know I’m gonna beat you anyways. No point in getting all quiet on me.”
“Shut up and make your bet, Murdock.” He’s still got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s going to beat you before you’ve even put your cards down, and he matches your bet, sliding a few bills into the centre. “Showoff.”
“Just trying to impress you.” He was making it increasingly hard to keep a poker face, and you know he couldn’t see you but somehow it felt like he could see straight through you, like he knew how every one of his sweet words ate away at that feeble resistance you’d built up to try and keep him out. “You can fold if you need to. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”
“Does this whole act usually work for you? The girls eat this shit up, don’t they?” He shrugs, leaning back and leaving his still turned down cards on the table.
“Most of the time.” You push in double the amount of money he bet, and somehow he knows exactly how many, because before you’d even sat back he was matching the bet, smiling sweetly at you.
“How?!”
“How what?”
“How do you know you’ll win?” You lean forward and he moves too, mirroring you and nearly meeting your hands in the centre of the small table.
“I can’t give away all my secrets.” You roll your eyes and lay your cards face up on the table. He doesn’t so much as flinch, both your bodies still leaning towards each other.
This part of the bar was quiet and secluded, and you swear if you angled yourself just right no one would even be able to see you from here. The thought drove your brain to a whole lot of dirty thoughts you had been trying your best not to have about your literal boss, and you physically shook them away. When he spoke again, you had to squint to focus.
“Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”
“Oh, piss off. Let’s see what you have.” You deflect, holding out hope you could still make something of this game. Still smirking, he keeps his head angled towards you, reaching over and sliding his cards to you. You’re hesitant to take them, and he knows it.
“Help a guy out?” He reaches out to the wrong spot on the table, a clear ploy to get you to flip them for him. He was delaying this— dragging it out because it was fun to him, and as much as it sucked you were losing money, you’d probably empty your wallet if it kept him this close to you.
“I’m not falling for your helpless act. I’ve seen you in a court room.”
“Indulge me.” Deciding not to delay the process any longer, you flip them all over in one go.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A royal-fucking-flush.
“What is it?” He says smiling, keeping as close to you as possible.
“A— you know what? I’m not even going to tell you.” He breathes out a laugh, leaning back finally, and it’s only when he’s sitting in his chair again that you manage to get your head screwed back on straight. “Now I’m really out of money.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Happens to the best of them.” You scoff. That’s the second time he’s called you that, and it seems to make you fidget in your seat more every time.
“Just means you have to cover the tab.”
“Don’t pout.” Instantly you steeled your face, and just as you were about to ask him exactly how he knew, he spoke again. “I tell you what— you want your money back, we can play a new game. All or nothing.”
“I feel like this is a trap.” He laughed, the sound drawing you in like some kind of siren song. You leaned forward again, reaching out for your money on the table, but he was faster, his own enveloping yours. His hands were rough and large, and you couldn’t peel your eyes away from how you practically disappeared underneath him.
“It’s not a game we can play here, though.” You swallow hard. You’d always flirted with Matt— it was easy, and honestly the best part of your day was seeing that playful smile, or even when his ears got a little pink when you got particularly close to whisper something about a case.
But this? He’s talking about leave a bar with him. On a Saturday night. To play a game. You chugged the rest of your beer, needing the liquid courage.
“Alright, Matthew. I’ll indulge you. What kind of game are you talking about?”
“Poker.” Laughing, you watch as he gets up from his chair and grabs his jacket, already resigned to the idea you were both leaving. Now.
“We are playing poker.”
“It’s not that kind of poker.” He’s right next to you now, edged between you and the chair cemented to the floor next to you. He was so close you had no choice but to lean into him, not that you could think of anything else you’d rather be doing.
“Not that kind of poker?” You say softly, and he hums. The sound vibrates through his chest, and you resist the urge to flutter your eyes close and just listen to him talk. Something about his voice has you floating on air, and it’s part of the reason he’s so hard to resist. He just never stops talking.
You jump slightly when you feel his hand brush against your shoulder. You were wearing a silk dress that hung off your shoulder, so he took his time, grazing along your soft skin. His fingers carded through your hair lightly, and to top it off, he brushed the hair back, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck, tilting your face upwards gently.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were suggesting something unprofessional, Mr. Murdock.” His face splits into another smile, but his hand drops from your skin. Instantly you feel colder without his touch.
“You tell me to go to Hell right now and I will. No hard feelings. You’re a good lawyer, and I won’t mess this up for you.” Now you understand why he stopped touching you. Matthew Murdock— self professed people reader, was unsure if he’d read this situation right. The thought occurred to you once to fuck with him a little, but when you looked up at him and saw how tight his jaw was, you melted a little. That tiny wall of resistance you’d built up was crumpled from the inside.
“And if I say I’m interested in this little game?”
“Then I’d say I’ll meet you outside. Balls in your court, princess.” He presses a light kiss to your cheek, and you nearly get dizzy from the gesture if you hadn’t seen him grab your money as well as his off the table before he disappears into the crowd.
You call after him, but all you get is a shrug and a laugh that is unmistakably his as he disappears into the crowd. You don’t move for a second— your heart screaming at you to get on your feet and follow him, but a small, stupid part of your brain tells you to not. He was your boss, after all, and you needed this job, but it was also Matt.
You knew he was a little bit of a lady killer— Karen and Foggy making a thousand jokes at his expense which he managed to laugh off. Even with clients he always managed to win the girls over with his charm, but as much as people talk about it, ever since you came around you haven’t seen him so much as flirt for more than a few minutes with anyone but you. Sure, you weren’t with him every second of every day, but between the late nights and weekends spent in his office to getting lunch and sometimes dinner on your days off, even Foggy had made a few passing comments about how he’d staved off women.
You didn’t have a leg to stand on to get jealous even if he did— but it made your heart stutter in his chest to think you had something to do with it. He was always showing up with an extra coffee for you, walking you home if you had to stay late, paying you endless compliments… and the way he spoke to you, teasing but never cruel, always making you laugh even when you hadn’t slept for 24 hours.
Really— your decision on whether to follow him out was made months ago when you first met him. The moment you saw that stupid smile and the first time he said your name; you nearly took the chair with you with how quick you jumped up to find him outside the bar.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I’ve never been to your place before.” You listen to the sound of Matt pouring you a glass of wine as you hang your head off the back of his couch. You have to squint to block out the streaming colour of light that shines through the giant windows; hues of pink and blue billboard warped from the rain that was coming down outside.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He taps your leg and you shift to sit up, him sitting close next to you handing you a glass. “You like red, right?”
“I drink anything as long as it’s free.”
“This one’s on me.” You laugh into your glass, taking a long sip and enjoying the burn that comes with it. It tastes expensive, and you expect nothing less from him. He’s facing you, one arm lazily hanging behind you on the couch, and your heart is racing even without the wine.
“So, did you really invite me up here for a game of poker, or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?” His laugh fills the quiet apartment, and he leans forward to pull out a drawer, his hand reappearing with a deck of cards.
“I never say no to a pretty girl in my apartment, but if you want your money back, you’re going to have to play me for it.” You snatch the cards from him, shuffling them dramatically.
“And tell me why, exactly, we couldn’t play this all important game in the bar?” You watch him carefully, how you always do when your alone, and you see his tell tale sign. The slightest hint of red on his cheeks, just at your question. “Matthew?”
“You’re out of money, but we’re still playing poker. What do you think we’re betting?” Now you were the one blushing.
“So this really was a ploy to get in my pants.” You try to sound nonchalant, confident like he always manages to come across as, but your voice shakes a little at the end of your sentence, and you were still shuffling the cards even though they were way past ready. You quickly put them on the table and down the rest of your wine.
“Can you blame me?” He asks lowly, and you cross your legs, ignoring the heat that grows in your stomach. “Listen, you know I love these games we play, but I don’t want you to—“
“If you’re bitching out now, I can take the money in credit or cheque, too.” He stops talking, mouth open a little, and scoffs out a laugh. The last thing you wanted him to do was think you weren’t a hundred and ten percent here for whatever he wanted to do with you. To you. Shit— that wine was going straight to your head.
“Alright, you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you, but…”He sighs and shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, dealing the cards.
“Sure you were. Pick up the cards this time.” You all but shove them in his hands, and he takes his time pulling away from you, smiling like he could feel your pulse through the small touch and knew how much he affected you.
Looking at your cards, you tried to see a way to win with what was on the table. You had nothing, really, but he didn’t know that, and you still had a chance. Besides, if he wanted to play that kind of poker, you were positive you wouldn’t have to rely on the cards to distract him. If you could keep your thoughts under control.
“It’s a real shame you aren’t going to win, you know.” You bait him, and his head tilts up from where he was pretending to be looking at his cards.
“And why is that?” You shift in your seat at his voice. Again.
“Well, I dressed up all pretty for tonight.” You flip over the next card on the table, and suck in a breath. “And it’s just a shame you won’t get to experience that.”
“You know the point of this game isn’t to keep your clothes on. No matter how pretty you are in that dress.” He flips over the final card, and you bite down on your lower lip. You have nothing. Nada.
“Exactly, but the best part of my outfit isn’t the dress. It’s what I’m wearing underneath.” His eyes close, and you watch as he sighs and lets his head fall back.
“Can’t believe I was going to take it easy on you, sweet thing.” You can’t stop the grin on your face as he looks up at you like he’s in legitimate pain. “Play your cards.”
“Ohh, so serious now!” He manages a small ‘hm’ and although you were joking, he doesn’t seem so playful anymore. The look on his face was more akin to what he was like in court— focused and ready to win at all costs. “Don’t pout.”
“You’re bluffing, aren’t you?” He says, and you feel his hand on your opposite shoulder, the arm laying around the back of your couch sneaking closer while you were distracted. You shuffle slightly closer, allowing him the space.
“I thought you knew everyone’s tells.”
“You’re a little harder to read than most, I’ll admit it.” You make a noise in surprise, but he just shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I won’t take you apart just as easily.”
“Guess you’ll have to play your cards to find out. Unless you want to fold?” He laughs, breaking up the tension just a little, and while you two were inches away from each other, he tosses his cards half heartedly onto the table, face up.
“How’d I do?” He leans closer, taking the extra space when you turn your head. You feel every word he speaks on your skin, lips not even an inch away from being on you. You could hardly keep your eyes open, let alone focus on the cards.
“I think you win this round.” You manage, shakily exhaling as you practically feel his smile on your neck. The hand that was around the back of the couch leaves you completely, while the other slowly creeps up the bare skin of your arm, making you shiver. “Th-three sixes against a four of a kind.”
“Hmm. Unlucky.” Shallow breaths were the only ones you could take with him this close. Gentle fingers find the soft material of the strap of your dress, hooking under it loosely. You told yourself you didn’t wear this dress for him— but you knew how it would feel. Silky and smooth against your skin, if he couldn’t see how good you looked in this dress, he would damn well feel it.
He slowly drops the strap down your shoulder, then the other hand encourages the other side down. You use your arms to keep the dress up, making him work for it a little, but as soon as he tugs lightly at the hem you let the dress fall over your breasts.
Matt’s hands feel the lace of your bra, lingering a little longer than he had to. Then he flattens his palms on either side of your rib cage, pulling the dress lower. He feels every curve and ridge on your body, and you can’t take your eyes off his face. He was enamoured— completely lost in the feeling, so much so that his eyes were shut tightly, even the light was taking too much away from the sensation.
“Matt, hurry u—“
“Shh. Let me enjoy my prize.” He finally leans closer, a soft kiss to your collarbone nearly melting you into the couch.
His hands reach your hip, and then get a little more aggressive, fisting the soft material and pulling rather than guiding. You shimmy your hips and let him drag it down your thighs. He seems reluctant to move past the faint excuse for underwear you were wearing, but eventually the dress falls to the floor, and he sighs.
“You were right.”
“About what?” His hand catches your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip lightly.
“You are even prettier like this.” Your knuckles were going white with how hard they were trying to stay at your sides, but now you were half naked, and he hadn’t so much as taken his jacket off.
“You think so?”
“I fucking know so. And these—“ The hand on holding your face to his is still on your hip, and one finger hooks under the lace. “—these for me?”
“You haven’t won that yet.” He presses his forehead to yours and groans, and then leans back, but doesn’t go too far. “Your turn to deal.”
“Fine.” He frowns like a little kid who just got told he can’t have ice cream, and quickly swipes up the cards. It’s only then that you notice these ones— his personal set, have braille on them.
“You can read these ones.” You say, and he nods.
“This game is much more important.” Biting your lip so hard it’s probably bleeding, you watch his talented hands quickly sort and deal the cards. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m cheating.”
“You’re so funny.” You squint, and he smiles.
This round is much faster. He’s clearly in no mood to fuck around anymore, and makes every opportunity to touch you now you’re sitting in front of him in nothing but a few strands of lace. In front of anyone else, you think you’d feel insecure, or at the very least cold, but with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for you— it has enough heat in that look to warm you for an entire winter.
You actually have a good hand this time, and to your surprise, you win. Your Aces beat his fours, and he takes off his jacket.
“That is hardly fair.”
“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off? Because that is entirely unprofessional.” You want to laugh, but what you want more is to tear off the buttons on his shirt and— “Your cards, sweetheart.”
“So, are you going to tell me how you know you’ll win?” You take them quickly, trying to ignore how you missed him reshuffling the deck completely because you were too lost in your thoughts of fucking him right here, right now. What else was going to happen here, though? It was the anticipation that was driving you wild— the inevitable burn of what was months in the making.
“You really want to know?”
“Please.” He smiles again, flicking through his cards.
“I can hear your heartbeat.” You laugh, and he faces you again.
“You’re kidding.”
“It gets faster when you’re winning.” You look down at your cards— another solid hand, and you think he might of had something to do with that.
“I don’t think th—“
“It’s getting faster.” He leans closer again, tilting his head like he could actually hear you internally losing your shit. He was right— it was getting faster, but it had nothing to do with the cards. “You have a good hand, don’t you?”
“Maybe?” He laughs, and his hand touches yours. You watch as his hands— the hands you’ve spent way too many hours looking at, and they read your cards.
“Shit. I’m starting to think you might be cheating.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but your hands reach out, stopping him.
“My turn.” Keeping your hands on top of his, you relish in his surprised expression as you swing your leg over him. He all but gasps when you sit your weight down fully, the underwear hiding nothing from him or you as you press yourself against him.
Your fingers are as soft as his were, moving his tie to the side while you slowly undo each little button. When a new one opens, more of him is revealed, and every inch of unexplored skin has you nearly panting. Not to mention the way he’s holding you, his hands roaming the bare skin of your back and hips to pull you closer.
When you finally reach the bottom of his shirt, you nearly rip at it trying to remove it, but Matt takes it from you and slips out of it within a second, throwing it away somewhere behind you. Your hands are gentle as they slide up his chest, trying your best to avoid the scars that might still be painful. You had no idea he had so many scars— the image of him shirtless is even more alluring now.
“I don’t want to play games anymore.” You whisper, and his hand is already tangled in your hair when you finish, hauling your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Its fiery and hot, everything burning at once. You wrap your arms around his head and in one motion he stands, a small squeak of surprise coming from you as your legs wrap around his torso.
You couldn’t stop obsessing over the feeling of his skin on yours, the way he felt so warm against you; how his hands were rough and gentle at the same time, grabbing and pulling at any part of you they could find purchase. Eventually he stopped moving and your world fell backwards, landing on soft sheets and being encased by Matthew Murdock.
“Matty…” You whine into his mouth and he hums against you, his tongue opening you up, taking control of every single breath you take. Your eyes flutter open when he moves lower, kissing your jaw, and you inhale sharply when his teeth bite lightly at the sensitive spot on your neck. It felt electric, almost, the way he followed the harsher touch with gentle kisses and soothing hands.
“Fuck, you liked that? My sweet little fucking thing. Thought about this every day.” He groaned the confessions against your skin, leaving you helpless to do anything but moan and squirm underneath him. You were at his mercy, and you were pretty sure if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d implode. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful.”
His hand slips from your side down between your bodies, quickly finding the spot between your legs that has you nearly screaming his name in the first ten seconds.
“Oh God, more—please.” You beg shamelessly, rolling your hips into his hand as he takes his time drawing slow, firm circles on your clit. His other hand holds your hips down, making you whine in protest.
“I know, baby. Feels good?” You nod quickly, eyes squeezed shut.
“I need you—“
“You’re so fucking pretty like this. You want me to take these off? Have I won these yet?” He whispers, that casual confidence thick in his low tone.
“Anything you want. You w-win.” He tugs at the now ruined fabric, and you practically beg him to get rid of them, a mixture of ‘pleases’ and ‘yes’ in high pitched tones must convince him. He quickly slides them over your knees before his hand returns to your clit, making your legs shake with how close you are. He had you on the edge with just one of his talented fucking hands— but then he drops down, shoulders forcing your legs apart and buries his face in you. You hardly have time to realise what’s happening before your hands are threaded through his hair and your hips are fighting in his hold to stay still.
“Fuck, Matt!” You scream, and he only wraps himself further to you, hooking his arms under your thighs and holding you on him. When he takes your clit in his mouth you lose all sense of reality, and are shoved towards the edge of consciousness, white hot pleasure stripping you bare. “God—“
“You taste so fucking sweet— cum for me. I want to hear you say my name like that again” He murmurs into you before going back to driving you into the hardest release you’ve ever felt build before.
“Matt. Matt—“He holds you so tight you couldn’t squirm away if you tried, and when your orgasm washes over you, you all but drown in it. Electricity shoots up your spine and your back arches, hands gripping Matt’s hair hard enough that you feel him groan into you at the feeling.
“Harder.” He moans into you, and you were still so lost in your own pleasure that you couldn’t do anything but obey— nearly yanking him upwards, but he just moans again and takes everything you give him.
He only drags himself away when you jolt at his touch, kissing his way up your stomach, chest, and this time when he gets to the fabric of your bra he lingers longer, taking his time to enjoy the feel of the lace under his fingers. When he starts kissing your neck, leaving a multitude of hickeys you’ll never be able to hide in the morning, you notice at some point he’d taken the rest of his clothes off.
His hips slot between yours and he’s fucking hard— the feeling of him pressed against you makes you gasp. He was bigger than you’d expected, and every so often his hips would move slowly, running the length of him through your wet folds making you whimper into his mouth again.
“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was gravelly and layered with restraint— hands gliding up and down your side, grounding you.
“Perfect, Matty. Please…” He kisses you again, gentle and sweet, nodding as he slides himself into you. You gasp into each others mouths at the feeling, and he pulls back, watching your expression melt from a little bit of pain as he waits and kisses you, to pleasure, taking the hint of your nails in his shoulders to start moving slowly.
“Oh, fuckfuckfuck— so fucking good. Jesus Christ.” He moans in your ear and you shiver. It was always his voice that drove you crazy, but hearing it now, so broken and not put together like he always is. The words hit you in the chest, pleasure blooming in every single one of your veins, overtaking every part of your body. “So tight.”
“Right there. Harder, please Matt. Please…” He holds you tighter as he does what you ask, and your whimpers turn into screams as he fucks you into the mattress without another thought. Your eyes must roll back or close because you lose the sight of his face, but all you need is to hear him.
“Good girl. Good..fucking…girl.” Hearing the way he says your name, all drawn out and heavy— how he whispered how he wanted to fuck you for days, how he thought about ducking you at your desk for just as long as you secretly did. Everything about him, mixed with the brutal pace he fucked you with hurtled you into another wave of pleasure, screaming his name so loud there’s no way the rest of Hell’s kitchen didn’t know exactly who was making you feel this good.
“There you go, baby. Gonna…fuck— gonna cum. Sweet fucking thing.” His hips stuttered and you were still cumming, every word spurring you further out of your mind.
“Give it to me, please please please—“ He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his release on your stomach and thighs. He was still breathing praises into your skin even after he pulled out, wrapping you into his body, not caring about the mess you had both made. He couldn’t find the care to let you go.
When you had both finally caught your breath, he dropped beside you, curling your body to fit perfectly against the front of his. His hand tangled in your hair, lips pressing to your forehead and cheek as he used his own shirt to clean you both off gently. You were both far too lost in each others mouths to do it properly, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’d gladly spend the rest of your days losing hours in Matt Murdocks mouth.
“Stay tonight.” He whispers, voice cracking.
“Only if you admit I won.” You can feel him smiling against your skin, the sensation sending a different kind of warmth all the way down your spine.
“Yeah. You win.”
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ladykailitha · 8 months
Text
Batshit Soulmates Part 3
Hey guys! More of this delicious AU.
Steve is suffering under the effects of the truebond. And things get a little dire for Max, too.
In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1| Pt 2|
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
Steve got back to his house and immediately stripped down to hop in the shower. He turned the water to as hot as it would go. He needed to drown out his thoughts and hot water would help with that.
He washed and conditioned his hair, allowing the conditioner to do its thing while he did the rest of his routine. Once he was done, he rinsed his hair.
He towel dried his hair, taking the time to squeeze out as much of the water as he could. He stopped himself as he realized what he was doing. He was primping for Eddie. A wanted fugitive who couldn’t care less what Steve’s hair looked like. He tried not primp when he got dressed. But he still managed to put on his nicest polo and tightest jeans, anyway. He did try to de-slut himself by adding the white undershirt.
Which of course made the polo tighter and thereby defeating the purpose. Steve just shrugged. Max was waiting for him and changing now would only waste time he really didn’t have.
****
Eddie was not having a good time. He was hungry and hunted and more than a little haunted. Sleep was fitful at best. He just hoped he wasn’t screaming in his sleep. That would have really brought him unwanted attention.
He tried find ways to entertain himself. Because if seeing Chrissy die like that didn’t make him crazy, being alone with nothing to do was going to drive him the rest of the way there.
He finally resorted to tossing bottle tabs, coins, and other small items into a cup to see how many he could get in.
Eddie was losing.
Suddenly there was the crunch of tires on gravel and he was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed his broken bottle and peeked out the window. He couldn’t see the vehicle that pulled up. Was it the cops? Someone else?
The door to the boathouse burst open and Eddie was sure his heart burst with it.
There standing in the doorway looking more than a little sheepish were his rescuers. Dustin, Robin, Max, and Steve bringing up the rear. Steve gave a little hand wave and he forced himself to breath normally again. He glared at them to know that what they did was a little fucked up.
They explained everything to him as simply as possible. Steve actually was kind and walked him through each new piece of information to make sure he understood.
Afterwards when they were getting ready to leave again, Eddie pulled Robin aside.
“Um...” he said rocking back on his heels, hands on his back, “so you’re running with Steve Harrington now?”
Robin opened her mouth the say something mean, but she knew what he was really asking. “Yeah, monsters and monstrous humans tend to make for great social glue.”
“And he knows...” he said trailing off. “He knows?”
She knew what he was trying desperately not to say. Did Steve know she was gayer than a May pole? She nodded. “Yeah. I know what he was like in high school, but he’s not like that anymore.”
Eddie nodded. “It’s just wild you know.”
“Having King Steve as your soulmate?” she asked tilting her head to the side.
He let out a shuddering breath and pressed his together. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. “How do you even deal with that?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
Eddie frowned. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?” It was just surprising. Yeah, Steve and him hadn’t found each other until their late teens/early twenties. But that was rare.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh no, I know who she is. Pretty sure she knows it’s me, as well, but she has decided that fellow band geek Robin Buckley just isn’t her flavor or such shit.”
His frown deepened. “It’s Vickie Cameron, isn’t it?”
Robin cocked her head to the side. “How did you know that?”
He opened his mouth and closed a couple of times before he said, “Look, the safest place to deal...” he gave her a pointed look warning her to keep her mouth shut.
She mimed zipping it closed.
“Is behind the community center next the swimming pool,” he explained. “I’d deal, use some of the money to cool off in the summer because my trailer ain’t great when it comes to not being as hot as the devil’s tit.”
Robin wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
“The point is I saw her soulmark,” Eddie growled. “It’s a trumpet. On her shoulder. Right where I’m guessing there’s a clarinet on yours.” He nodded toward her. “What is she, homophobic or some shit?”
She shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. She doesn’t treat me badly and sometimes I even think she’s flirting with me, but she has a boyfriend who’s in college so...”
Eddie winced. “That sucks.”
Robin scoffed. “About as bad as learning your soulmate is your antithesis or whatever in the middle of another apocalypse.”
He could only agree, but they were getting off the topic at hand. “Has Steve said anything to you about being my soulmate?”
She sighed. “Only that it fucking sucked learning about it with a bottle pressed to his throat.”
Eddie sighed, too. “Look, I wouldn’t have done anything. I was scared and alone and jocks hate me. Like I thought Jason has sent him, okay?”
Robin blinked. “Oh because of the basketball thing?”
Eddie nodded.
“I guess that makes sense,” she said. “But he really fell from grace when Billy smashed in his head. He’s just this lovable goof with a heart of gold.”
She paused for a second.
“Like I think he always was.” She patted his shoulder and went to join the others.
Steve told the others to go out to the car and jogged back to Eddie.
“It’s too dangerous to move you right now,” Steve murmured. “But we’ll try to stay on the walkies, okay?”
Eddie nodded. “Just don’t forget I’m here, man.”
Steve gripped Eddie’s arms. “We won’t, but we have to find out what’s going on and we’re going to be spread pretty thin. I wish there was another way to do this.”
Eddie let out a long breath, not quite a sigh. “I’ll try, man. If you guys are right about all this shit, I’m really scared. Plus with the town thinking it was me...”
“We’ll figure it out,” Steve promised.
Eddie nodded again and settled down to wait it all out. At least he had food and drink, which was more than he had before.
****
All this running around looking for clues was shit on Steve’s nerves. He was close to screaming. He had almost taken Lucas’s head off when the kid came tearing around a blind corner at night in the high school they had just broken into.
And Robin was doing that thing she always does when faced with a pretty girl, flirt. Which considering said pretty girl was not only Steve’s ex, but already soulmated? Yeah, Steve was sure his breaking point was going to hit sooner rather than later.
It came when Max started rising in the air like some fucked up messiah. Because he could tell something was wrong he was able to get ahold of Robin and Nancy who told them about the music and Lucas was able to find her favorite song on her Walkman and play it for her, she didn’t get Vecna’ed or whatever the hell it was the kids were calling it.
Once she was safe he sat down on the ground hard and buried his head in his hands. He fought to breathe, barely making it through the gasps of sobs that were torn out of him.
How can they fight something that could take anyone of them at anytime? How is he supposed to protect the people he loves most from an unseen force?
He had to keep it together. For Max because she was the victim here. For Lucas because he almost had to watch his soulmate get ripped from him. For Eddie who was frightened beyond the pale. He had to be the strong one.
And then he felt warm arms around him.
“She’s safe now,” Dustin murmured. “We got to her in time because of you. That was scary as hell, but it would have been worse if you had listened to Lucas and me. A lot worse.”
Steve lifted his head and nodded. “Thanks, bud.”
Dustin helped him stand. “We have to get everyone together.”
Steve nodded. “I just wish there was to include Eddie without telegraphing to the asshats in town where he is.”
Dustin grimaced. “Yeah, but there isn’t.” He looked at Steve a moment. “How are you doing? I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before.”
Steve showed him his soulmark. It was black and angry.
“Why does it look like that?” Dustin nearly screamed.
Lucas and Max came running and they looked down at Steve’s mark, too.
“Shit,” Max hissed. “That’s not good. Why didn’t you tell anyone you and Eddie were true soulmates?”
Lucas and Dustin looked at her in shock.
“A what now?” Lucas asked, looking back and forth at Steve and Max in confusion.
“True mates,” Dustin said slowly in disbelief. “I’ve only read about those. They’re super rare.”
“It means,” Max hissed, “that Steve can’t be separated from his soulmate for long otherwise he gets super sick.”
“But only after they touch each other’s marks,” Dustin finished. “Why did you that? Why did you touch each other’s marks if that was going to happen?”
Steve huffed. “Because Dustin, you don’t know you’re true mates until after you touch.”
“Oh,” Lucas and Dustin said together.
“This is bad, Steve,” Max huffed ignoring the boys. “You have to get back to Eddie.”
Steve shook his head. “I can last a little bit longer. You’re in danger, Max. That’s more important than me.”
“But what about Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Won’t he get sick, too?”
Steve threw back his head and groaned. “I can’t take care of everyone at once. Plus, if I keep going back to the boathouse someone will see and come to check it out. That would do far more harm to Eddie than being a stupid true mate to someone like me.”
Dustin and Lucas glanced at each other and then each held out their hand to Steve. He took each of their hands and allowed the two boys to haul him to his feet.
“How close do you think you have to be to stop it from burning?” Dustin asked Max.
Max shrugged. “My mom and Neil aren’t truemates so I don’t know for sure. But a hell of a lot closer than cemetery to the lake.”
Dustin nodded. “Would Skull Rock be close enough?”
“Or even just driving past the lake might work,” Lucas suggested.
Steve hugged them both. “I’ll visit him tomorrow, we just need to get everyone else together to discuss what happened to Max.”
They all nodded.
****
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue
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catofthecanals289 · 28 days
Text
NicoJack drabble
“So, any nice girls in Michigan?” Luca asks over the rattling hum of his Ford’s engine.
It’s late, the night thick and heavy between the mountains, the road ahead barely visible beyond the headlights. The radio display doesn’t show the time and Nico doesn’t want to check his phone and the lack of messages, so he can only guess just how close to midnight they really are.
Glancing over at his brother, he finds Luca looking straight ahead through the windshield, focused, but not tense, despite the winding road neither of them know well. The usual road had been blocked, a fallen tree from a storm earlier in the day not yet removed. Luca hadn’t seemed too concerned though so Nico had just sunken further into his seat while trying not to think about the text he was half sure he wouldn’t get an answer to.
“What?” he says belatedly when Luca prompts him again by clearing his throat.
“Just-” Luca sighs, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know, you seem sad.”
Pressing his lips together, Nico shrugs. He doesn’t know what girls would have to do with it, but Luca isn’t wrong. Being back home is going to be great. Nico has missed his family, has missed Switzerland. Sitting at the kitchen table and eating food his bother cooked, looking out the window and seeing the lush green and tall peaks reaching into the blue sky – it’s what Nico has been longing for.
But it turns out the end of missing one thing just means the beginning of missing another.
“I thought maybe you had a girlfriend over there and now-” Luca goes on, and without thinking, Nico shakes his head.
“No,” he says over the sound of some song on low volume that Nico is pretty sure he’s heard before while holding a red plastic cup, drinking awful American beer and trying not to smile too much at the way Jack was moving to the beat of the music. Nico isn’t sure if it could be called dancing. But he’s sure he hadn’t been able to look away. He hadn’t wanted to.  
“No girlfriend.” He looks down at his phone, at the black screen. “The girls were nice. Just-”
Just they were girls.
And they weren’t Jack.
Swallowing, Nico presses the button on the side of his phone, but no notifications show on his home screen. When he tabs open his conversation with Jack it says *read one hour and twenty-six minutes ago*.  Jack has been online thirteen minutes ago according to the grey text next to his little icon.
It’s a picture Nico took of him, right there are the shore of the lake. The sun had been setting and Jack had stood there with his backwards hat on and his bare feet in the cool water and Nico-
“What if there was a boy?” he says, the words out before he’s really truly thought them.
For a moment Luca’s silence is deafening.
Nico can’t let himself breathe, can’t make himself look over. Instead he turns his phone around in his lap, watching the screen go from bright to dim to black. Then-
“A nice Michigan boy?”
“Well, he’s- Yeah,” Nico says on an exhale, swallowing thickly. “He’s in Michigan. But he lived in Toronto before that. And- Yeah.”
And Nico has spent hours listening to Jack talk about it. About Florida where he was born but doesn’t remember, about Boston, about New Hampshire, about the cold winters across the border and how Michigan is home, how he misses his older brother and how much he loves hockey.
And then he’d given Nico that smile that made his chest flutter and he’d rolled onto his back and looked at the clouds passing over the driveway and he’d asked Nico about Luca. About playing together in Visp, about Switzerland, about everything.
What do you like most about America so far?, he’d asked a sweet little grin on his face, and Nico thinks the answer might have been obvious on his face even if he hadn’t said the You that’d been on the tip of his tongue.
“Were you guys boyfriends?” Luca asks now and with a lump in his throat, Nico has to shrug.
“I don’t know,” he says softly.
Luca seems to have heard him anyway.
 “Ah, Nico,” he says after a short moment of simple squinting at the dark road ahead of them. “I’m sorry.”
It’s fine, Nico wants to say. It doesn’t matter.
Because it doesn’t. Nico is back home in Switzerland and Jack is in Michigan and whatever happened in those six months that Nico spent over there, it’ll just be a memory now. It’ll just be what Nico thinks about whenever someone asks him about his first kiss, about his first time, about his first time being in love.
His first heartbreak too, it seems like.
“He says he’s not gay,” he says, voice cracking over the last word. He wishes his lips weren’t trembling as he speaks. “That he doesn’t like boys that way.”
“But you do?” Luca asks.
No pause this time, no silence.
When Nico glances at him, Luca is still looking at the road.
“Yeah,” he whispers and Luca doesn’t say anything, but he reaches over, putting his hand on Nico’s shoulder.
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Coming To An Understanding #2
Previous
“You got any plans for Saturday?” you ask, digging in your bag for your phone to show Melissa the lunch menu for the new place you’d found online.
“I got a thing,” comes the snapped reply.
You frown, not used to this sort of reply from her.  “Okaaay…like an all day thing or..?”
“Just a thing, okay?” she says without looking at you.
You shrug, not willing to fight over nothing.  “Fine.  You mind if I invite Jacob over to mine and we watch the Mandalorian then?”
“Do what you want,” she says making a vague gesture with her hands, still refusing to look at you. 
Pulling out your phone, you leave the tab for the restaurant open, but instead open up your messages, doing your best to distract yourself from the red head’s snippy mood.  Part of you wants to press further and ask what’s got her being so short with you, but you quickly decide whatever it is, you don’t need to pry.  If she has a thing she wants to keep private, then that’s up to her.  If she wants to tell you, she’ll tell you, but until then there’s always that level of Match 3D on your phone you could never get past. 
*
In bed that night at your apartment, you still haven’t got past that damn level of Match 3D and at this point, you’re starting to doubt you ever will.  To stop yourself throwing your phone across the room you’d swapped your phone for your book, letting yourself get lost in another world for a while.
You’re so engrossed that you almost miss Melissa setting down her own phone with a sigh.
“I’m going to the hair salon on Saturday,” she says quietly.  “Getting a few touch ups.”
Looking up at her, you smile.  “Okay.  You want me to meet you after?  Or we could maybe do breakfast beforehand if your appointment isn’t too early?”
She just looks at you, as though waiting for something.
“What?  You want me to be shocked?” you ask, putting down your book and turning to look at her properly.  “I know the rug doesn’t match the drapes, Lissa.”
At this, she rolls her eyes, letting out a huff.
“Are you getting something different done?”
“No,” she answers quickly.  Almost too quickly.  “Just touch ups,” she adds rather defensively, before looking away, fiddling with the blankets.  “Why, would you prefer I changed it?”
“Melissa, you know I’d love you no matter what colour your hair was, right?” you ask, waiting until she meets your eyes before continuing.  “I mean, do I think the red is hot?  Yeah.  But it’s hot because it’s on you.  If you wanted to go blonde, brunette, hell green, it wouldn’t change anything.  I want you to do what you want.”
She looks thoughtful for a moment.  “Even if I didn’t dye it at all?”
That’s when you see it; the hesitation, the worry.  “Have you seen Paget Brewster lately?” you joke, knowing she’d made fun of your reaction to the new look a certain Emily Prentiss was sporting.  “I think you’d rock whatever look you decided to go for.  And I’d love you all the same.”
You look down as you feel her toy with one of your rings.  “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”
She lets out a sigh.  “I know you know how old I am, but I just…well it just felt easier to keep that kinda stuff behind the scenes.”
“Stay here,” you tell her, clambering out of bed and heading for the bathroom.  Grabbing the couple of boxes of hair dye from under the sink, you sit on the edge of the bed.  “You think mine is natural?  I pick whatever colour is on sale and takes my fancy that day.”
“Well, there ain’t exactly much down there to compare it to,” she smirks.  “Wait, you don’t even use the same colour?”
You can’t help but laugh.  “Like you’ve never noticed it’s been about twenty different shades, none of them exactly natural, since we met?”  You gather up the boxes of hair dye, moving to return them to the bathroom.  “You can even pick the colour next time if you want.  Though full disclosure, I’m working on a totally natural Cruella De Ville stripe and when that comes in properly it’s getting left well alone.”
You hear her chuckle from the bathroom and when you return to bed, she’s put her phone away and has already turned off the bedside light.  She opens her arms to you, letting you cuddle in close.
“Sorry I was snarky earlier,” she says softly in the darkness.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” you reply.  “Thank you for telling me though.”
“Thank you for putting up with me,” she says finally after a long pause.
Pressing a kiss to the closest patch of skin you can find, you tighten the arm around her waist.  “You got the rough end of that deal being landed with me,” you say, smiling as you feel her press a kiss to the top of your head in response.
Next
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milflewis · 1 year
Note
can we get sum established relationship sewis please
It’s Lewis who asks first.
He’s in the middle of washing up, sleeves pushed to his elbows, hands tucked into reusable gloves. The radio is turned down low, the Beatles humming about Jude in the background. It is a Wednesday evening and there is nothing to do but clean and watch the sun set. Lewis might see if Sebastian will let him eat him out later.
Sebastian made a vegan lasagne for dinner and he's sitting at the table, chin propped up on a fist, writing notes in his little red recipe book. He is muttering quietly to himself, tapping his cheek with the horribly bitten end of his pencil. There are different coloured tabs sticking out at the sides.
It’s the second new dish he's made this week and whenever Sebastian cooks, Lewis washes. His curls are golden under the setting sun, face shadowed, they should probably turn on one of the lamps, and Lewis loves him.
“Marry me?” Lewis asks.
Sebastian hums. “Ah, what?”
Lewis smiles, turning to lean back against the counter, slipping his gloves off. “Marry me.”
It slipped out the first time; so easy and casual he didn't even think about it. This time it is more solid. This time he can hold it in his hands.
Sebastian pauses, pencil stilling. “What?”
Lewis keeps smiling.
“Shut up,” Sebastian says, eyes growing wide, mouth a little slack. He looks furious. “No! Shut up, no. No, no!”
Lewis exhales quickly, laughing. “Sorry, can you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you say no the first time?”
Sebastian throws his pencil at him. It lands in the suds with a plonk! His chair falls out from under him as he jumps to his feet, banging his knee against the table. Lewis winces, opening his mouth.
“No! Don’t say anything,” Sebastian hisses, finger pointing at Lewis. “You’re not allowed to speak.”
Lewis raises his eyebrows. Sebastian looks away, pulling at his hair. He’s trying not to smile. It’s not very successful.
Lewis feels a little cracked open, spilling out at the edges. There’s a tightening low in his gut, a pull and then buzzing filling his stomach. Sebastian’s palms are open and raised at the ceiling as he breathes. “I had a plan,” he says, and Lewis swallows back a laugh.
“Yeah?”
Sebastian makes a low noise in the back of his throat. His mouth turns down, tugging his whole face with it. He could be twenty three again and back in that RedBull suit. “I didn't say you could speak.”
Lewis mimes zipping his mouth shut. He wipes his hands on his jeans and starts walking over to Sebastian.
“I had a plan.” Sebastian still isn't looking at him. “You ruined it. There was going to be lights and dinner and music and Roscoe was going to come into the room carrying it around his neck. We discussed this, you know. You’re being very inconsiderate.”
Lewis frowns. “You never mentioned this to me.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, looking at him finally. “Not me and you,” he says, delighted, unable to help himself. “Me and Roscoe. I planned it out with him. He had a lot to say, of course, being your kid. Couldn’t shut him up.”
“Oh,” Lewis says, ignoring the hypocrisy. “Oh.”
His hands curve around Sebastian’s hips like they always do. thumb sneaking under his flannel shirt. His skin is room warm and soft. He presses his thumbs into the flesh there, revelling in the give of muscle and fat. “I could take it back if you like. So you can do it again.”
Sebastian’s face twists comically, a half grimace, half smile kind of thing. Ridiculous, Lewis thinks, and can't help but press a kiss into the corner of his mouth where it's stubbornly turned up slightly despite Sebastian’s best efforts.
Sebastian’s hands are heavy in his hair and Lewis leans into him. Sebastian shifts his feet, settling his weight in the ground. Lewis tucks his face into Seb’s neck for a moment. breathing him in. He’s started using Lewis’s soap and it mixes well with his own deodorant and the two in one he uses because it’s efficient, Lewis, stop touching my stuff.
“No. You’ve ruined it now.”
Lewis hums. “Well, you're the one who said no, so if we’re going to talk about who ruined whose proposal…”
Sebastian pulls on his hair until Lewis is laughing in his face.
“You’re the worst,” Sebastian says.
“So are you.” Lewis grins. “We should probably get married then. Save the rest of the world from our awfulness.”
Sebastian’s eyes do that melting thing that they do when Lewis manages to say something he finds particularly wonderful or dirty and kisses him quiet, one hand in his hair, the other falling to his waist. His palm covers Lewis’s hand, thumb pressing into his ring finger.
When Sebastian asks Lewis, weeks later, dong the whole thing he said he’d do, and Lewis looks at him, the grey on his temples highlighted by the candles, the dinner laid out perfectly — vegan lasagne — and Roscoe, who is freshly washed and carrying a glinting ring that Lewis has seen in photos at Sebastian’s parents’ house on a purple pillow tied around his back, and says, “No,” Sebastian throws a spoon at him.
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greg-montgomery · 2 years
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Ivy - Part 3
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gif by: @fatherhotchner <3
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)
Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.
Part 1 Part 2
Chapter summary: You have a fight with Sean, and find shelter in his brother's house.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“No way,” you said to your friend who was on the other end of the phone. “Shut up!”
Sean was switching channels on the TV, unable to decide what to watch. Your reactions to whatever your friend was telling you caught his attention, and made him even more uninterested in watching television. He was more interested in you.
“Send me pictures as soon as you get ready tonight. It’s going to look so stunning on you, especially with your black dress,” you squealed with excitement. “Okay, talk to you later. Love you!”
“What happened?” Sean asked, curious, when you hung up.
“Okay so, remember when I went to Madeline’s the other day?”
He nodded, urging you to continue.
“Well, we were looking at jewelry and she showed me this necklace she has been obsessing over for months now, and obviously she knew she could never afford it ‘cause it’s like four thousand dollars. Anyway, she left the tab open on her laptop by accident and her boyfriend saw it and bought it for her as a surprise, can you believe it?”
Sean stayed silent, so you felt the need to explain yourself.
“I mean I’m not into that kind of stuff, but she loves jewelry so she got excited-”
“You don’t have to do that,” he cut you off.
“Do what?”
“Try to make me feel better about myself.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” you defended yourself.
“Come on, everyone likes expensive things,” he said.
“Well yeah, but that’s not what I prioritize in a relationship. That’s not what I care about.”
“Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to do that,” he raised his voice slightly.
“Why are you trying to pick up a fight over nothing?”
“I just don’t like being pitied.”
“That’s not what’s happening. I just didn’t want you to think that I expect gifts like that from you. I only got excited for my friend,” you explained to him.
“Sure.”
That annoyed you. “Okay, Sean, I’m not gonna do this right now. If this is something you’re insecure about, you can’t put it on me; not when I’m being nothing but supportive on your new beginning.”
“Don’t you get it that just by saying these things you make me feel small?”
“That’s enough,” you raised your tone. “We’re supposed to be together in this. You’re not supposed to be embarrassed about how much money you make when it comes to me. We’re supposed to be doing life together.”
“How can I do this when you’re swooning over a gift that could pay our rent for god knows how many months?”
“I didn’t ask you to buy me the fucking necklace, Sean!  I didn’t even know you felt like this. I thought…I thought we were doing good.”
“We are,” his voice softened. “We are. You’re the reason I’ve am in the place that I am. You are the one good thing in my life.”
“Then what was this?” your voice softened like his.
“I just feel like I’m not good enough for you.”
“Sean…If you don’t work on yourself - no matter what I say or do - I’ll never convince you you’re good enough just the way you are.”
You tried to move closer to him, comfort him with you touch, but he stopped you.
“Not right now.”
--
Sean had left the house not even twenty minutes after your fight. He wanted his space and you respected that, so you didn’t call or text him. He’d come back when he was ready.
Still, you were left alone with your thoughts, in an empty house, overthinking the argument. You had stopped crying, but your chest was feeling heavy and your heart was beating fast from anxiety. Fighting with your boyfriend never failed to make you feel sad, stressed and really fucking lonely.
You wanted to talk to someone, you needed a hug, but it was getting late and you didn’t wanna bother anyone by waking them up over a possibly stupid problem.
You couldn’t help your thoughts from traveling to a certain someone. He was definitely awake at this time. Your heart fluttered at the thought of his face. His furrowed brows and dark eyes focused on a piece of paper, refusing to sleep, determined to figure out a case.
Suddenly you needed to see him.
Maybe you could drive to his house. And if he wasn’t there, he would simply not open the door and you’d drive back home. No damage done.
So you followed the plan. Arriving at his house, though, you finally realized what you were doing. And what you were doing was one word: stupid.
What if Jack was there and he was asleep? You’d wake the kid up just by ringing the bell.
Or what if Aaron had someone over? You cringed at the thought of the door opening, and you standing there with eyes red from crying, looking up at Aaron and then noticing a girl in a pretty dress, sitting on the couch behind him and asking him who’s at the door.
You shut your eyes to shake the thought away. What an awful image. You hated the girl in the pretty dress already.
“What if you just texted him to check?”  the little devil on your shoulder suggested and who were you to say no?
You: Are you awake?
Aaron: Yes. Is everything okay?
You: Yeah don’t worry. Are you home?
Aaron: I am. Is something wrong?
You: I’m outside. Can you open the door?
You heard his footsteps and your heart got crazy. Soon the door opened and you saw him.
Casual Aaron: the best Aaron.
“Y/N, are you okay? What’s wrong?” his voice was worried and soft and it made you melt and soon the tears were back in your eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go,” your voice broke.
“What happened?” he asked, and walked closer to you. His hands touched your shoulders. “Are you hurt? Tell me.”
You shook your head no. “I’m fine. Sean and I had a fight and-” you paused because of a sob, “and I didn’t wanna be alone. I’m sorry if you have plans, I can go, it’s totally fine.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said and moved his hand on your back to urge you to walk into his home.
You took a look around. No girl in a pretty dress on his couch, thank God.
“Can I sit?”
“Of course. Do you need anything? Some water maybe? Or tea to calm you down?”
“Maybe later,” you smiled and sat down.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” he asked when he took a seat next to you.
“We fought over the stupidest thing. And I’m starting to doubt if it was even his fault in the first place. Maybe I hurt his feelings without realizing? But then again, before today, I had never talked about guys spoiling their girlfriends or anything. So what was that? I don’t know…”
Aaron listened to you without saying anything.
“You must think I’m talking nonsense,” you said.
He smiled. “It’s a bit hard to understand you fully without context, but most of your words make sense to me. It’s normal not to know who’s at fault after a fight. Sometimes in the process of trying to understand the other person’s feelings we invalidate our own. ”
“Okay, Oprah,” you sniffled.
He glared at you. “That’s the thanks I get for trying to help.”
“Sorry,” you giggled. “Thank you. And thank you for letting me in.”
“Y/N, of course. My home is always open for you.”
Somehow you already knew that. That’s why you were there when it was almost midnight.
“Is Jack here?”
“Mhm…he’s sleeping,” Aaron said. “He had a football game today so he was exhausted. He fell asleep in two seconds. I didn’t even manage to finish reading him a single page of the book.”
“Sweet angel,” you laughed fondly.
“If you stay here tonight, you’ll see him in the morning.”
“Aaron, I don’t wanna intrude. I’ll be just fine,” you quickly responded.
“There’s no way I’m letting you drive back home this late alone. And because I can’t leave Jack here to drive you myself - unless Sean comes here to pick you up - you’re staying,” he said.
“But-”
“No buts.”
“Okay,” you whispered.
You sat there in silence for a bit. Until you decided to break it.
“Aaron?”
“Hm?”
“Can you hold me for a bit?” you asked and in a matter of seconds he had pulled you into his strong arms.
You buried your nose in the crook of his neck. Of course he smelled like heaven. Why did he have to smell like heaven?
This hug was exactly what you needed to finally let go. Your eyes felt watery again and you started crying, quietly this time.
You cried because Sean didn’t feel like he was good enough for you. You cried because Sean loved you, he really did, but there you were, in his brother’s arms, and there was no place you’d rather be.  You cried because the thoughts you had about Aaron the night before made you feel dirty. You cried because being held by Aaron felt safer than anything in the world. You cried because you realized that your heart had finally slowed down just by beating against his.
--
“Y/N!” Jack’s sweet voice filled the kitchen.
“Hi, angel,” you gave him a hug as he ran to you. “Good morning!”
“Good morning! Are you gonna have breakfast with us?” he asked, and started jumping up and down when your hug was over.
“I am,” you grinned.
“Can I sit with you?”
“Of course,” you said and pulled him on your lap. “Your daddy made pancakes. But we have to add some fruit too, right?”
He made a face.
“Jack,” you scolded him, but were biting back a smile.
“Fine,” he said and grabbed a fork from the table.
“Maybe I should have you here every morning, if you can convince him that easily,” Aaron interrupted.
“Best job ever,” you joked and kissed Jack’s cheek.
The two of you laughed and Aaron joined you at the table.
Who knew that eating pancakes with two cute Hotchners could be so healing? You had almost forgotten that you had cried yourself to sleep the night before, with Aaron’s scent on his sheets being your only comfort. You felt so bad that he had slept on the couch because of you, but it was obvious that there was no way he’d let you sleep there instead.
After taking the last bite from your plate, you noticed the screen of your phone light up.
Sean: Babe I’m sorry. Where are you? I wanna talk.
 You lifted your head and your eyes met with Aaron’s.
“All good?” he mouthed at you, so Jack wouldn’t notice.
You smiled at him and nodded your head.
You could steal a few peaceful moments with them before you had to deal with real life. It was safe there and you weren’t ready to let go just yet.
Part 4
ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey
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winter-leftovers · 1 year
Text
Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter Four: To Catch a Changeling (4/?)
(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)
Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.
Chapter Summary: Y/n visit Douxie’s library
Word count: 1902
Warnings: no!
(Season 1 Episode 7)
Song?: Crush by Tessa Violet
Previous — Next
Masterlist
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“You look like shit” Randy hit the counter with some papers distracting Y/n from her computer.
“I feel like shit” Y/n closed the seventeen tabs she had opened looking for information about Killahead, all useless “I haven’t been sleeping well”
They shared a look for awhile. Y/n rolled her eyes. She knew her coworker very well by now. There was only one reason why he didn’t interrogated about her sleeping schedule: he needed something
“What do you want, Randy?” Y/n looked back at the computer, a picture of a rat eating a fry stared back at her.
“Okay, remember my idea of a battle of bands?” He didn’t give her time to answer “Well, I need to help to set it up and I know you are a musical genius so your input would be much appreciated and I won’t be able to do it without you…”
“Aha” She cut him off “Would I get paid?” She raised a brow.
“Yes! And…and the free afternoon right now so you can sleep”
“Wow! you really want me to help” she started to pick up her stuff before he could change his mind.
“Great! Thank you! Here, have flyer”
She took the piece of paper. The colorful flyer made her smile.
Randy always loved music. She remembered when his mother told her the story of how Randy had threatened to steal a guitar if she didn’t buy him one. Music was everything to him and he saw the same emotion in Y/n when they met. She always loved music, even before she could remember.
When she was six, Barbara took her to school for the first time and there, on music class, she touched a guitar for the first time and it felt like coming home.
Y/n doesn’t remember her biological parents but as a kid she liked to think that they loved music as much as she did but, as she grew, she stopped thinking about her biological parents and at seventeen she stopped playing completely until last year. Three months into college she got lost, hopeless. She didn’t like what she was studying and didn’t know what she wanted to do. One weekend, while visiting her family, Y/n heard a piano. Someone was trying to tune a piano and awfully failing. She felt like the strings were calling for her, asking her to end its misery.
Entering the music store she had spent too many hours browsing back in high school she saw two guys not much older than her debating if that is how the key was supposed to sound.
“It’s really not” Y/n got close to inspect their work.
“Hello? You need help looking for something?” The man with the long blonde hair asked.
“You’re doing a shitty job” she pointed to the man with his finger in the key.
“No shit. I don’t know I’m doing” he laughed.
She looked back and forth between them.
‘Maybe I can make a quick buck’ she thought.
“How much for tuning it?” She crossed her arms.
The blonde man looked at his watch and back to his friend and said:
“I’ll give you twenty bucks to tune it in half an hour”
Y/n laughed
“It can take up to two hours to tune it after god knows what you did”
“Hour and a half for thirty bucks”
“Forty five minutes and sixty dollars” she stretched her hand.
“Fifty”
“Deal” They shook hands.
She took her jacket off and started to work.
“I’m Y/n”
“Randy” the blonde said.
Tuning the piano made her feel something she thought lost, the feeling of home and she’ll always be grateful to Randy for that.
“Hello, Y/n”
“Hey, Douxie! How are you?”
“I’m fine. How about you?” He looked concerned.
Y/n knew she wasn’t looking her best. No one would be after the night she had.
“Oh, this awful eye bags? Courtesy of my little brother” she laughed.
“I didn’t know you had a brother”
“Yeah, he is still in high school. How about you? Got any siblings?”
“Nah, it’s just me and Archie” he point to the window of the library where a black cat was grooming himself.
“Oooh he is so cute” Y/n crouched down in front of the window.
Archie meowed and rubbed himself on the window as a response, melting Y/n’s heart.
“Don’t feed his ego too much. He’s a total diva”
Y/n laughed “I thought the guy with groupies would be the diva”
Douxie blushed.
She chuckled. She thought guys like Douxie didn’t blush.
“Are you jealous, love?”
Now it was Y/n’s time to blush.
They stood there, smiling at each other. Y/n found Douxie so intoxicating: his hazel eyes, his blue hair, that smile that brought her down to her knees. Even though they saw each other a few times, she was enchanted by him the first time.
“Would you like to say hi to him…you know…without the glass” Douxie broke the silence. He seemed nervous.
“That would be nice” she smiled.
Douxie opened the door to the library, the smell of books, tea and something else filled her lungs making her warm inside.
The moment she stepped inside, Archie rubbed himself between Y/n legs, stealing her attention from the beautiful library.
“Hello, sweet boy” she sat on the floor to pet Archie more comfortably.
“He likes you” said Douxie. He was leaning against one of the few walls that wasn’t covered in books “He isn’t usually that nice, you know”
Y/n swears she saw Archie roll his eyes but assumed her tiredness was playing tricks with her.
“He seems super nice to me” she rubbed Archie’s cheek and he let himself fall onto her hand.
“Oh, don’t let him trick you. He has a temper”
They both laughed and shared a look. The power Douxie has on her made her crazy. Ever since the day they met at Benoit’s, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time she saw him she would stare at him like if she moved her eyes he would disappear.
“Battle of the bands? Are you entering the contest?” Douxie pointed to the flyer long forgotten on the floor.
“No, I’m just helping set it up. Are you interested?”
“Yes, I have a band…”
“Oh! Ash dispersal pattern, right? Randy is a big fan” she tried to play it cool. She couldn’t tell him that she knows most of his songs by heart “I heard some of your songs. You’re good”
She saw a red tint in his cheeks and this time, she was sure her tired brain wasn’t playing tricks on her.
“Thank you” he scratched the back of his neck “I heard you play the piano you have at the store. I thought you’ll enter”
“Mmmh, I’ve played since I’m kid but I don’t think I’m good enough to enter. I’m helping cuz Randy asked” she looked at Archie, he was belly up between her legs, napping.
“What?! I heard you at the store! You’re nuclear!” Douxie crouched next to her.
Y/n turned her head and looked at him “You think?”
With Douxie so close the world seemed to slow down. They were the only people in the world. Their faces just inches apart. So close that a small breeze could change everything.
“Of course” He smiled
The door opened and the world was no longer theirs. Douxie stood as fast as he could and assisted the customer.
Y/n looked down at Archie, who was already looking at her and smiled. Her face was so hot that she thought it would explode.
She yawned and Archie mirrored, the last of her energy left with Douxie.
“Sorry, Archie but I have to go” she stood up and petted his head one last time “Maybe I’ll see you later. Tell Douxie I said goodbye”
Y/n fell on her bed like a bag of sand. Her body gave into sleep before she could take her shoes off.
When she opened her eyes, she was in a forest. Civilisation was nowhere to be seen. The air smelled fresh, familiar.
She kneeled in one of the trees and saw a heart with H written inside. A smile erupted from her chest. She mindlessly caressed the indentation, trying to remember something, someone, but she just couldn’t reach it. Only finding a warmth feeling in her chest.
“Y/n! Where are you?” A man’s raspy voice distracted from the tree “Come home, little bird”
A sword made of sadness and forge by loneliness stabbed her chest. Her eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know where I am” she whispered as a tear fell down her face, burgundy streaks of light surrounded her. Electricity ran through her body burning her fingertips and heart.
She looked at her hands, they were surrounded by red smoke.
Y/n woke up covered in sweat, her heart was racing but she felt fully rested. She looked at her hands and when she saw no red smoke, she relaxed.
Outside the sun had already set. She looked through her phone to see if her brother or mom had sent a text. Jim sent her a text telling her about her study date with Claire. She smiled. Jim had a crush on this girl from his class for a while now and apparently it was going somewhere. She wished him luck even if hours had passed. When she went to answer a text from Randy Toby called.
She couldn’t understand what he was saying, only the words: changeling and dental hygienist.
“Ok, Tobes I’m on my way”
Y/n jumped out of bed and drove as fast as she could to Dr. Muelas office. She would probably get a lot of tickets but she didn’t care. Knowing what she knows now, she couldn’t risk disregarding a call from Jim or Toby.
“Toby? Jim?” She screamed as she followed the sound of struggle.
She got to the door and saw her brother stabbing a troll followed by a flashing blue light.
“There goes proof” said Aaaargh!.
“Oh, my gosh! She’s in my mouth!” Toby coughed. The troll’s ashes were everywhere.
Y/n couldn’t move.
“Oh no! I killed our only evidence of a changeling in Arcadia” Jim pulled his armour off.
“And my dental hygienist” Toby screamed.
Y/n laughed. Toby could make her laugh even on her worst days.
“You finished the fight, Master Jim, and in self defense, for that matter. Vendel may continue to have his doubts but we continue to have our lives. A fair bargain, I’d say” Blinky tried to comfort him.
“He’s right, Jim” Y/n grabbed his brother by the shoulders trying to make sure her eyes didn’t deceive her and he was ok.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?”
“Toby called”
“And just out of curiosity, what are you doing in Toby’s dentist office?” Jim looked at the trolls.
“I thought it was possible that danger may come to either of you should you cross paths with the wrong changeling. So, we followed Tobias as a precaution” explained Blinky
Aaaargh! Fell from the ceiling making Y/n jump.
Blinky started talking about how he was curious about human’s oral hygiene but Y/n didn’t listen. She was more worried about dusting the troll off her brother before getting to her car.
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A/n: 👀
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Twenty Questions
Thanks for the tags, @eybefioro, @goodoldfashionednightingale, and @hoarder-of-dragons! I picked my favorites from the posts you tagged me on, and added a few more of my own:
Currently consuming: Good Omens everything
Currently consuming: Good Omens everything (it's worth repeating!)
First ship: I'm not sure. I think I was introduced to the concept of ships through Thomas Sanders' Sanders Sides
Do you have kids? Yes, birth and foster 🥰
What sports do you play/have you played? Dance, horseback riding, and martial arts
Are you more likely to be sincere or sarcastic? Sincere
How many tabs are open on your browser? Over 3,000, because Session Buddy doesn't work on mobile yet 😅
What's your favourite colour? There's no way I can choose! I love the play of different colors with one another. I tend to wear a lot of purple, burgundy, and teal jewel tones, especially in the autumn and winter.
Favorite drink: Hot cocoa with marshmallows and herbal tea for the winter
Last movie: Nothing Lasts Forever and Pride and Prejudice (Those of you as obsessed with Good Omens as I am might recognize a theme here 🤩 )
Scary movies or happy endings? Feel good media with happy endings, please! The world is already full of too many sad and awful things.
When was the last time you cried? I don't remember, but it was probably induced by sleep deprivation and stress. Or really big feelings.
Any talents? Photography! And I love to nurture things. Sometimes that means cooking for loved ones, or growing a jungle of plants in my living room, or organizing gatherings for an extended circle of friends and chosen family
Talent you wish you had? Drawing
What are your hobbies? Right now, the only honest answer is Good Omens 😅
Do you have any pets? Yes! I've shared my life with a whole zoo full of cats, dogs, fish, and reptiles, including an adventure cat, a part-bear part-muppet therapy dog, and a tegu lizard that I trained to walk on a leash and harness.
Super power you wish you had? Reading minds
Dream job? I don't know! I've had so many, and they've all been valuable stepping stones on the path of my life. The jobs where I get to teach and help people - especially kids - are my favorites.
Dream vacation? Seeing the northern lights in person is high on my list. Also, a wildlife photo safari in Africa.
How would you change the world if you could? (Or, what are you passionate about?) I would teach everyone the skills of DBT (helpful for absolutely everyone who has ever had a strong feeling or a connection to another person) and then I would give everyone universal healthcare and a universal basic income with an aim to eliminating poverty, especially among children, plus all the other long term benefits that would stem from that. (Read more from WaPo about UBI here if you're interested.)
Currently working on: Solving the ineffable mystery with the lovely people at the @ineffable-detective-agency, and finishing a new fanfic for the Good Omens Minisode Minibang. Hopefully I'll be ready to post that later this weekend!
No-pressure tags for a few mutuals who might be into tag games, and an open invitation to everyone else!
@gallup24 @averywiseanimatedcat @procrastiel @commonmexicanname @crowleybrekkers @stumblingoverchaos @dunkthebiscuit @red-sky-in-mourning @im-not-a-virgo-im-a-lesbo @tragic-cosmic-magic @crowleybrekkers @lil-king-trash-mouth @celticseawych @phoen1xr0se @lemonic-whimssyy @ineffably-poetic @red-sky-in-mourning @weasleywrinkles
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surrogate-fawn · 1 year
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Quartz and Sea Glass
((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's first step into the world of surrogacy.))
{This drabble is a sequel to "The First Goodbye" and is Part Two of a planned series based on the rp between Mitty and I. This drabble will not make sense without the context of Part One.}
TW: Mentioned miscarriage/stillbirth, infertility, family abandonment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don't put me on a pedestal for what I decided to do with my life. I ain't a saint.
I'll fully admit that I became a surrogate for selfish reasons. When I discovered there was a market out there of couples who needed a healthy body to carry their baby, I did not give a single shit about helping them -- all I cared about was the money.
I was twenty years old and homeless, still living off minimum wage. Can 'ya really blame me?
Lord only knows how that little worm of an idea got into my brain. Maybe it was during a mindless re-watch of season four of Friends. Maybe it was seeing something on the news. Or maybe it was during one of those three-in-the-morning anxiety attacks -- the ones that had me scribbling down as many outlandish solutions to my life as could fit on a napkin.
Not a lot of good ideas came about that way.
However it got there, one day I found myself seated at a library computer searching up as much information as I could find about surrogacy. As soon as I saw the rates some of these couples were willing to pay, I was sold. Fifty to sixty grand -- paid over the span of months. That sure as hell beat $7.25 an hour! The fact I could be eligible for certain state benefits on top of that money didn't hurt, either.
Best part? The one obstacle that could've been in my way had been crashed down a year ago: at least one healthy and successful prior pregnancy.
This was it. This was my way out!
But I hesitated.
As I sat there, staring at the Google search results that led me down the rabbit hole, I wondered if I was really capable of going through it all again. Not so much the physical symptoms, those all passed as soon as the pregnancy was over.
I was wondering if I could handle saying goodbye again.
My son's first birthday had just passed. I'd put a candle in a cupcake and blown it out for him the day of, alone in my room and still in my UDF uniform after work. I'd wished I'd known what name they gave him. The "Happy Birthday" song is a 'lil hard to sing without a name. I'd just called him "my baby" in the song. At least it fit. He would always be my baby, wherever he was and whatever he was called.
I blinked at the blue-tinted monitor. The screen was getting fuzzy and my eyes were stinging. I force-closed the dozens of tabs I had open, shut the computer off, and began my walk back to the women's shelter.
No, I couldn't. Money or no money, I couldn't go through it again. I never...never wanted to go through it again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, I made another trip to the library to borrow some time at the computer. I couldn't afford a laptop or smartphone, so it was a trip I usually made every other day; but work had been leaving me too tired to swing by.
I found an email waiting for me in my inbox, from a surrogate agency site I remembered looking up. In my mad scrolling, I must have signed up for their mailing list without thinking about it. It was from the highest-rated site I'd found, so at least I didn't have to worry about it being a phishing scam or tied to some baby black market or whatever.
I almost deleted it out of reflex, but the subject line read: "The Basics of Surrogacy, Free Information Guide". A brochure? Not an ad pressuring me to join so they could start taking a cut of my pay? Sure, I'd take a brochure.
So, that was the moment I made the best decision of my life: I opened that email.
I'll spare you the business side of things, but once I got in touch with the agency it all started falling into place. The whole process was much more voluntary than I realized. I spoke with several surrogate mothers who had been matched with clients through the site, and they all stood firm that nothing was done unless both the surrogate and the parents agreed to it. I would have a say in who I matched with. I would have a say in how much I was to be paid. I would even have a say in what the birthing experience would be like!
What finally sealed the deal for me, though, was the fact this company only dealt with what I learned were called "gestational surrogacies" -- meaning none of their surrogates were the biological parents of the babies they carried. I'd have someone else's egg inside me -- I would essentially be a walking incubator. That sounds kinda weird when you think about it, but it solved the biggest issue I had with tapping into this gold mine.
Not my baby? Not my DNA? Fine by me. I decided I'd gladly get paid fifty grand to sit around and grow someone else's kid. Sounded like the easiest job in the world.
I sent my application in two days later.
Two months, a psychiatric assessment, and dozens of medical tests later, I was in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Tariqs weren't the first couple who asked to meet with me. There were two other couples I had a first meeting with, but neither of them clicked with me the way Ray and Tess did.
We met for the first time at a park situated alongside the Tennessee River, bundled in jackets to keep out the early-autumn chill. There just so happened to be a food truck parked by the entrance we agreed to meet at, and Tess declared we should get to know each other over lunch. Seeing as I had skipped breakfast to make it to work on time, I didn't mind the idea.
I was standing off to the side while the Tariqs ordered from the truck, counting out the amount of cash I had on me, when suddenly I heard Tess call me over.
"Which one 'ya want, shug?" she asked, pointing to the menu plastered on the truck's side.
They bought me a chicken panini and a hot hazelnut macchiato, insisting it was their treat. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have needed the rest of that interview -- I had already chosen to be their surrogate in my head.
Buying me food is a fantastic way to get to get me to like you.
We sat at a picnic table beneath the golden oak trees and got to talking. Raymond (or Ray, as he preferred to be called) was a second-generation Indian immigrant and Tess, his wife, was a born-and-bred Knoxville gal. They lived on the rural side of Knoxville, just barely inside the city limits, in a 1960's farmhouse they'd refurbished themselves. Both were in their mid-thirties by the time they sought out surrogacy; up until that point, they'd been though quite a battle with infertility:
They'd been trying throughout their four years of marriage, but Tess could never carry to term. The few times her pregnancy tests would come up positive, she'd bleed a few weeks later. Although they weren't opposed to modern medicine, they'd preferred to try more "natural" methods to solve their fertility issue before going to a doctor. Such methods included the Kama Sutra, meditation, crystals, herbal blends and -- of course -- prayer.
Just the year prior, it seemed their home remedies had worked when Tess finally made it into the second trimester with a baby boy.
They'd lost him in a stillbirth days before the third trimester milestone.
Piled onto that tragedy, the hospital discovered Tess had a defective uterus -- it was physically impossible for her to carry to term. So, that's where I came in.
As I told them about myself, they were delighted to know I came from a household that had rather New Age ideas about life. I didn't mention that I no longer lived by those ideas -- it would've opened too many questions.
However, I certainly understood the good home remedies could do! I was more than happy to trade my recipes for salves for Ray's tips on where to buy the best beeswax in Knoxville. So happy, in fact, that I got carried away.
"My mom makes beeswax candles," I said, hurrying to swallow the bite of panini I had in my mouth. "She used to scent 'em with oils from her flowers, but the oil would seep right outta the wax once it got warm." I chuckled, feeling my nose crinkle in the embarrassing way it does when I laugh. "Sometimes, at dinner, we'd light one of her candles at the table. We'd blink and suddenly there'd be a puddle of rose oil dripping onto the beans and cornbread!"
"Maybe I can help her out with that," Ray said with a grin. He took a quick sip of his coffee. "My grandparents keep bees over in India. My family has a lot of tips on how to melt and mix the wax."
I almost choked on my food when I realized I'd brought up my family. Shit...now I had to be careful.
"Maybe," I said with a causal shrug. "She's back home in West Viginia with everyone else. It's a little hard to make time to see 'em."
"Oh, I'm sure," Tess nodded. "It's the same with my daddy's side of the family. We're just so far apart we forget 'ta check up on each other as often as we should." She finished off the last of her bagel. "And with you, Fawn, you work full time with a little 'un at home. I'm sure 'ya family understands."
I didn't blink for a while. I just stared at the river until the cold breeze dried my eyes out. "Oh, well..." I cleared my throat, "I don't have a little one at home."
Tess looked confused. Ray looked mortified.
"But it says on 'ya file you were pregnant last year?" Tess half-asked, half-stated. I could tell from her tone that there was no malice in her. She'd clearly read my profile and made assumptions.
I smiled, maybe showing a little too much teeth. "Yeah, I was. Very healthy pregnancy, very healthy baby boy, but I don't have a little one at home."
Ray put his hand over his wife's wrist, his sea glass bracelet quietly clattering on the wooden table. Tess went pale and her look of confusion faded into a silent scream.
"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean 'ta-."
"No, no! I don't mind bringing him up!" I said, a nervous laugh jittering my lungs. "I never get the chance to talk about my son, but I think about him all the time!"
I surprised myself when the expected sorrow didn't come. Instead, excitement filled its place -- an odd sense of relief that I could let out some of the thoughts that had been haunting me.
I proceeded to word-vomit about how wonderful it was to be pregnant with my son, and how angelic his parents were to me, and how I knew he would be okay -- even if I missed him -- and so forth and so on. I honestly don't think I stopped for breath.
I saw Ray and Tess glance at each other from the corners of their eyes as I rambled, a pair of knowing grins on their faces.
I'm no mind reader, but I think that's when the Tariqs made their final decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tess was with me for the embryo transfer, her ring-laden hand resting on my arm as everything was prepped. I was bloated as a water balloon from the multiple fertility drugs I'd been plunging into my veins -- every day, might I add -- for the past month. I sure was hoping those suckers worked, because being in a permanent state of PMS was ass. Total ass.
I reclined on the exam table, legs up in those familiar stirrups and my hips covered by a thin sheet of paper. I inhaled through my nose as the doctor inserted a long, thin tube of plastic through the ring of my cervix -- the end of which was attached to a syringe full of clear fluid. Somewhere in that syringe, three little embryos floated around -- and one of them was hopefully about to nestle into its new home.
I watched the fuzzy grey blurs on the ultrasound screen as the doctor angled the wand to see what he was doing. As I watched each of the three tiny balls leave the tube...I just hoped those fertility drugs didn't work too well.
Tess grinned down at me once it was over, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder. "We got three good un's in there," she said. I noticed she was clutching the quartz pendant around her neck like a string of prayer beads. "I'm sure one of 'em will like 'ya enough 'ta stick around."
I think she was just as worried as I was. Tess's egg retrieval, the test tube fertilization, the freezing, and my daily injections all combined into almost three months of prep work just for this ten-minute procedure.
And if it failed, we'd have to do it all over again. And if that failed, we'd do it again. And again.
"Yeah," I sighed, lowering my legs from the stirrups, "I hope you're right, Tess. 'Cause if not, I swear to God I'm gonna have-."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A girl!" Tess screeched to the high heavens, throwing herself against Ray in an attack hug. She jumped for joy while hanging from his neck, almost pulling the poor man to the floor. "It's a girl, Ray! We're havin' a girl!"
Ray laughed, backing up from the table so his wife didn't mule kick the ultrasound technician. "I don't know, Fawn," he said, looking my way with a huge smile and a raised eyebrow. "Do you think it's a girl?"
"Not sure," I said, my nose crinkling in a snicker, "but I think Tess said something about it being a girl."
"Shuddup you two," Tess giggled, sniffling as tears began falling down her cheeks.
Ray held his wife's face in his hands and gave her a kiss deep enough to explore the sea floor. The technician and I decided to focus on the ultrasound images to give the couple some privacy.
I craned my neck to look up at the screen. What had been a microscopic ball four months ago was now an apple-sized baby girl with wiggling arms and legs, and -- thank God -- there was only her in there. The other two embryos had never taken, but this rowdy little girl had held tight. I smiled as I watched the rapid flutter of her heart beating, amazed at the sight. I remembered being just as amazed by my son's heartbeat, what few times I'd gotten to see it.
"Look how active she is!" the technician said, pointing to the baby's constant wiggling. "You should be feeling those little dance moves of hers very soon."
Ray and Tess returned to admire the fuzzy images on the screen. Tess was drying her eyes on her sleeves, and Ray's smile may as well have been glowing. He had his arm around Tess's shoulders as they watched the miniature dance party going on inside me. The sea glass bracelet rattled as his hand came to rest over his heart.
"That's our daughter, Tess," he said. His voice broke a bit as he repeated: "That's our daughter."
"Yep," Tess sniffled, hugging her husband's torso and resting her head on his shoulder, "that's her."
I watched them hold each other like that until the technician turned off the wand and wiped the gel from my slightly rounded belly.
The Tariqs had already begun the steady payment plan we'd agreed to. Even after the agency took its cut each month, it was still more than I'd ever made in my life. That had been why I'd agreed to do this for them, after all.
That ultrasound appointment is what changed my outlook on what I was doing.
These two people. These two amazing people, so overcome with joy because I was carrying the baby that they could not.
I wasn't an incubator anymore. I felt more like a nanny, protecting their baby for them until she was strong enough to come out. They'd wanted this baby for so, so long -- and I was the one making that dream of theirs come true.
I knew what it was like to desperately want to hold a baby you were unable to have. I may not have been able to heal my own hurt, but here I was...healing theirs.
I wasn't doing it for the money after that.
I never did it for the money again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five days after my twenty-first birthday, I woke up to a rather nasty surprise at one in the morning. I'd gotten kicked in the bladder, and my bedsheets and pajama bottoms were damp and sticking to my skin in the humid July air. Fantastic. Not again.
With a groan, I rolled out of bed and started shuffling my way to my door. I held the weight of my belly in my arms as I made my way to the upstairs communal bathroom, hoping to take the pressure off my hips.
I blinked against the harsh florescent light as it sputtered to life over the toilet. With a gruff sigh, I shut and locked the door.
"Suri, you gotta stop doing this," I slurred, my mouth too tired to move. "I'm letting you use my uterus as a bed and breakfast. The least you could do is not try to pop my bladder every night."
Surinder. Her name was Surinder, but we'd been calling her Suri for short. Ray picked it out. He liked it because it was based on the name of a Hindu god and also sounded like the word 'surrender' in English. Tess had fallen in love with the name. Me? I would've just stuck with 'Suri'. I knew exactly what kind of teasing she was in for at school with a name like 'Surinder'.
You can't exactly walk into public school with a name like 'Fawn' and not get laughed into oblivion.
At least the nickname gave her an extra name to fall back on. If that didn't work, she also had her middle name to use: Elora. I would've done the same back in high school -- I did have three to pick from -- but 'Aspen', 'Coriander', and 'Medulla' wouldn't have made the teasing any better.
I'd gone in at age eighteen and erased two of those names. It was just "Fawn Coriander Sequioa" now. Still not a normal name by any means. I often thought about going back into the records and legally changing my last name, just like my parents had done when they'd joined the commune before I was born.
I didn't need my last name. My family didn't want me anymore.
Alexander may have opened up a whole new world for me, but he made sure I burned every bridge behind me as I crossed it. I was already beginning to question my parents' worldview by the time I started dating him, but he took that little spark of doubt -- a spark that, if left alone, would've grown into a steady burn-away of my old ideals -- and fanned those embers into an uncontrollable hatred.
"They're a cult, babe," he'd told me. "Why can't you see that? I can take you away from that bullshit that says you gotta fuck other guys to be happy. I only want what's best for you, and for us."
After months of letting my teenaged angst and frustration boil over, it happened. An argument started between Mom and I over something asinine, and the geyser fucking exploded.
I parroted everything Alexander had been telling me. I told my parents they were nothing but sexual perverts who wanted me to be a whore all my life. I told them how their "woo-woo" medicine got kids killed all over the country, and that blood was on their hands. I told them how much they'd fucked up in raising me.
I told them I hated them.
I told Dad I hoped the next woman who sucked his dick bit it off.
I told Mom that if it was her, I hoped she died choking on it.
The last time I saw Dad, he was throwing everything I owned out of my bedroom window until I was on the sidewalk surrounded by broken furniture and muddy clothes.
The last time I saw Mom, she was sobbing face-down on the couch and refusing to look at me.
Even now, I would be willing sell my soul -- to lay down and die -- just to undo what I did that day.
I didn't give a shit at the time, though. I picked up what I could carry off the front lawn and walked to the nearest payphone to call Alex. I had to tell him I was finally free.
Free.
Right.
What a fucking joke.
I splashed some cold water on my face to wash off the nighttime sweat. Suri rolled one of her feet against the top of my belly, causing a little moving bump that I playfully poked with my finger.
"I'm going to bill you for all those crazy dance parties you're having in there, missy," I said with a grin, a lot less frustrated with her than I was a second ago.
I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning myself off, but the realization dawned on me and I stopped cold. That was her foot. Her foot was at the top of my belly...which meant her head was angled down...which meant there was no way she'd kicked my bladder.
As I stood at the sink trying to solve that puzzle, I found the missing piece. My belly clamped down hard enough to pitch me forward. I grabbed onto the sides of the sink with a small gasp, feeling the muscles of my torso all tighten and shrink in the direction of my uterus. As it did, a little more dampness spread across my pajama pants.
Oh fuck.
Oh, holy fuck!
I left the bathroom in as much of a jog as I could manage, rushing back into my room and to the brand-new cell phone charging by the window. I had no idea how to save numbers on that thing, so I manually dialed Ray's number. His was the only one I could remember.
The other side of the call rang for a solid thirty seconds before Ray's sleep-drunk voice picked up:
"Hello?" he grumbled. "Who is this?"
Oh, right. He probably didn't have my new number saved, either.
"Ray, it's Fawn," I said, noticing too late that my voice was trembling. "You and Tess need to come pick me up...like right now!"
I heard a rustle on the other end, and suddenly Ray sounded very much awake. "Fawn? Fawn, what's wrong?!" I thought I heard Tess say something nearby, probably on the other side of their bed. "Why do you need us to get you?! Suri isn't due for another two weeks!"
"She...she had other plans," I said, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. "My water just broke."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ray's face was illuminated by the highway streetlights as he glanced back at Tess and I in the backseat of the car. "How's it going back there?" he asked, flicking his gaze between us and the road.
"Aughh!" I groaned in response as a contraction stole my ability to speak. I tried to lift my hips off the leather seat as more fluid leaked from me, but the seatbelt held me down. I was already sitting in a small puddle of it, and I was worried I was ruining their upholstery. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but I considered them a lost cause.
"We're doin' fine," Tess said, slipping her hand into mine so I could squeeze it -- which I did. "Focus on the road, Ray."
Tess had buckled herself into the middle seat of the minivan, giving her enough room to tend to me while I was strapped in the window seat. I sat with my legs as far apart as the seatbelt would allow. I could already feel the baby pressing through my cervix, and I recognized the pounding pressure that came with it.
The contraction lasted about forty seconds, and it left me reeling and panting. I had no idea when to expect the next one. "Why is this happening so fast?!" I asked, my voice shrill with anxiety. "I was in labor for over a day last time!"
"It's probably not happenin' as fast as 'ya think, doll," Tess assured me, giving my hand a pat. "You could'a slept through most of early labor. Second baby always comes faster than the first, 'ya know."
No. No, I did not know!
"Tessie, how close did the doula say she was?" Ray asked, obeying his wife and not taking his eyes off the road that time.
Tess's face was bathed in white light as she quickly checked her phone. "Ten minutes," she said. "She'll be waiting outside the house when we get there."
Just before she put her phone away, I saw her clutching the quartz pendant again.
Just as promised, the doula was parked outside the Tariqs' farmhouse when we got there. She climbed out of her car as soon as our headlights lit up the gravel driveway. Ray parked the minivan with a lurch and jumped out to start helping her carry things into the house.
Tess helped me out of the car, letting me use her as a crutch as we hobbled up the front steps.
"You ready 'ta do this, Fawn?" she asked.
"Are you ready to do this?" I rebutted.
Tess paused for a second, and then rubbed my lower back as we reached the porch. "Not really," she said, "but no one ever is."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turns out, I wasn't as deep into active labor as I thought I was. In fact, I'd barely started it. The doula told me I was six centimeters dilated, and that I'd likely been in labor for close to twelve hours at that point.
"No, that's not possible," I protested from my reclined position on the sofa. "I wasn't having contractions until now."
"Trust me, you were," the doula grinned from her place between my knees. She slipped off her blue latex gloves and tossed them in the trash as she stood up. "I'm willing to bet they were just really mild up until you started leaking."
It was a relief to know my water breaking didn't mean I was going to deliver right there and then; but it also sucked knowing I was still in for a long ride.
I spent the rest of that night laboring around the farmhouse. It was so nice to not be stuck in a hospital room that time. I was free to do as I pleased, which Ray and Tess were sure to make clear.
Ray opened a few of the windows to let the sounds of crickets and frogs in, as well as the sweet-smelling breeze of the countryside. Meanwhile, Tess made it her life's mission to make me as cozy as possible -- no matter where I ended up. Thanks to her, pillows followed me from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to the recliner, and then back to the sofa.
Eventually, I got too restless to sit still and I needed to be upright. I was on my feet for the rest of active labor, hanging from the edges of furniture or leaning on either Tess or Ray for support during the contractions. Neither of them minded a bit.
It didn't hurt any less than the first time I went into labor. At times, I was so overcome by the increasing horrible sensations that I began screaming. Each time that happened, either Tess or Ray (whichever I was currently clinging to) would wrap their arms around me and the other would redirect my focus.
"Look at me, doll," Tess said, taking my face in her hands while Ray held me upright.
I was hyperventilating and sobbing my way through a nasty contraction and had forgotten how to use my legs.
"Look at me," she repeated gently. "Focus on my face. See my eyes? My nose? My mouth?" she pointed to each feature as she listed them. "Just think about what'cha see. Think about every detail 'ya can."
It was a technique that sounded stupid on paper, but in practice it was very effective at keeping me grounded. If I counted each of Tess's eyelashes or tried to trace the shape of her mouth in my mind's eye, then I didn't focus on the pain.
I could do it. I knew I could. I'd done this whole song and dance before without painkillers. I could do it again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At ten in the morning, eight hours after arriving at the house, I finally felt the shift that told me I was almost done with this.
I was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, my thighs supported by the shallow birthing stool the doula had brought. Beneath me was an absorbent blue pad. Based on the design of the packaging it was pulled it from, it was supposed to be for potty training puppies. Weird...but if it worked, it worked -- and it was certainly needed. The head was descending quicky, and a few bloody strands of cervical mucus were dripping from me as the last of it gave way.
I'd shed the damp pajamas I came in, but the sweat rolling down my back made me shiver each time an outdoor breeze came through. Tess draped a thin blanket over my shoulders and stayed at my back, her hands never leaving my upper arms as I bowed my head and wailed through a transition contraction.
Ray knelt a few feet in front of me, the doula at his side. He looked a strange mixture of nauseous and excited -- we had decided he would be the one to catch the baby, and the doula was talking him through the process ahead of time. I noticed he was holding a hand to his heart as he listened to her, the sea glass bracelet hanging from his wrist.
We all knew it was about to happen.
When the head finally lodged itself into my birth canal, I said nothing. I just acted. I gripped the front edges of the foot-tall birthing stool and let out a feral growl as I started to push. A chorus of encouragement came from the people around me:
"That's it, doll! C'mon!"
"Go with the urge, Fawn. You've got this!"
"Very good, that's what we like to see."
Having gravity on my side this time made pushing feel much less like a chore. I could feel Suri working her way down each push I gave, and she usually stayed where she was once I let up. Kneeling on the stool seemed to be easing her down exactly where she needed to go.
I let out a yelp -- of surprise more than pain -- as I suddenly felt her head pressing against the skin of my perineum. The pressure opened my lips up like a flower, and the doula shined a flashlight underneath me to confirm her head was visible just inside the bulge of my lips, sitting there ready to crown with the next push.
And holy fuck, did she crown! The burn started the second her scalp met the outside air.
"Oww! God-fucking-damn it!" I white-knuckled the wooden stool, a strangled scream leaving my throat as I felt the head bulge out further, peeling my vagina apart like some demented fruit.
Ray scooted closer, rubbing alcohol up and down his arms in preparation to catch. With the doula watching over his shoulder and aiming a flashlight down so he could see, Ray slipped his hands beneath me. I felt his fingers prodding the skin around the head.
"Just like that, yes," the doula told him. "Help her open, this baby seems to be eager."
"No shit!" I roared, my arms trembling as another push sent the head rushing downward. "Fuck!"
I felt Ray's fingers trace the circumference of his daughter's head as more of it emerged, heard the quiet squelching of the afterbirth coating his fingers. When I no longer had the contraction to help me, I let up. Ray kept trying to massage my vagina open, even as I was trying to rest.
"Stop!" I snapped, and he withdrew.
Tess was hiding behind me, her hands on my shoulders the only reminder she was there. She peeked over my shoulder at her husband during the brief lull in my screaming.
"How far is she out?" she asked, unable to see for herself.
The doula craned her neck. "Almost fully crowned."
"She has so much hair," Ray said with a breathy laugh.
"She does," the doula agreed with a grin. "Her daddy's hair, too. Very dark."
I tilted my head to the side, panting heavily but morbidly curious. "Can...can I feel?" I asked.
The doula took my hand and lead it below my belly. I gasped in awe when I touched the hot, gooey ball of hair sticking out from my body.
"Woah..." I muttered, not sure what to else to say.
My fingertips wandered between my legs for a few seconds, and it was both fascinating and horrifying how my anatomy felt nothing like my own body. Everything was stretched and moved around, and it didn't feel like I was touching anything resembling a human body part -- save for the head sitting where a head shouldn't be. Frightened, I pulled my hand back just in time to bear down against a new contraction.
"Hands out, Ray," the doula gently encouraged. "Here she comes."
I felt Tess press her forehead into my upper back. I think she was feeling faint.
"Ah!" A sharp cry, almost a bark, shot from me as the head reached a full crown for a few terrible seconds. Then, with a wet slip, her whole head came free.
"Holy Mother Gaia..." Ray marveled in a half-whisper. His hands cupped the head hanging under me with the most attentive care in the world.
He didn't have much time to admire the view, I wasn't done pushing. I screamed through closed lips as I felt the ring of flesh just behind my skin get stretched wider than it had ever been. I knew something was wrong as soon as that stabbing, tearing burn began. Suri was two weeks early, but she suddenly felt bigger than my son had been.
"Pull her out!" I begged, remembering what the doctor had done. "Just pull her out!"
"Can't," the doula said. "Her hands are up by her ears, there's nowhere for us to grab."
"Take it slow, Fawn," Ray offered. "I've got her, there's no reason to rush."
I took a few quick pants and rested, hoping the stabbing burn would lessen if I let myself stretch out. It's no wonder it hurt so bad delivering her shoulders, she was making this part more difficult than it needed to be.
Tess's hands lightly squeezed my arms and I felt her hiding her face in the blanket draped over my back. Yeah, she was definitely on the verge of passing out.
Gravity was pulling on Suri even as I was trying to let myself stretch, and the shifting pressure triggered me to push without the aid of a contraction.
"Aughh, Suri come on!" I begged, pushing so hard my vision was going double.
Maybe saying her name was intimidating enough to get her to move, because with that push I felt her arms pop free. Ray gasped, and I felt his hands shift to support her upper body as the rest of her slipped out of me. I heard fluid splash and splatter onto the puppy pad, and just a second later, Ray lifted a small blue baby up from under me.
"Get her breathing," the doula urgently instructed. "Turn her over and rub her back. Support her head."
Ray obeyed, gently flipping Suri over on his lap and rubbing his large hand over her back. Her head hung disturbingly limp on her neck as he jostled her around, but I knew that's what it was supposed to be like. It still looked scary.
Suri splayed her arms out, as if she's been surprised, and let out a gurgling wail as her first breath.
"There she is," Ray sighed with releif, turning her back over to hold her in his arms. The doula whipped out a small towel and draped it over her body to keep her warm.
Tess came back to life and rushed to be beside her husband the instant she heard the baby cry. The moment she saw Suri in her daddy's hands, she dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. Her eyes spilled over, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"Oh, Ray!" she cried, her voice shaky and breaking. She reached out and pet her daughter's wet mop of black hair. "Ray, she's beautiful!"
Ray couldn't answer, he was too choked on tears of his own. Both parents held their daughter between their bodies, too joyful for words to express. Their tears and shared kisses told the story, though.
As for me, I wasn't too sure what to make of the situation. She was out, she was healthy, and her parents would be taking it from here. My job was done; but it did feel a bit...abrupt.
"Fawn," Tess turned to me, uselessly trying to dry her eyes, "do you want to hold her?"
I didn't think, I just spoke: "Yes. I've never held a baby before."
Ray and Tess lifted Suri up to me. Ray adjusted my hold so I could support the places that needed it, and Tess made sure the bloodied towel was in place so Suri wouldn't get cold. Within seconds, there I was with a minute-old baby in my arms, sitting against my bare chest.
I stared down silently at the tiny person who had been living inside me the last nine months. She was screaming her head off, but her lungs were sounding clearer each time her mouth opened. Her pink, toothless gums reminded me of a fish's mouth.
"Hey, Suri," I said, my voice sounding far away. "Must feel better out here, huh?" Suri wailed again, unhappily flailing her arms and legs around. "Or not."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I rested on the sofa, extra puppy pads beneath me, as the doula and the parents did the 'lotus ceremony' on the other side of the room. I'd had to sit on that stool for an extra twenty minutes until the placenta passed -- Ray and Tess wanted to have a lotus birth, where the cord was burned through only after the afterbirth was delivered.
I didn't want to know what they planned to do with the placenta itself.
Ray had offered to drive back to the women's shelter later that day to grab my duffel bag for me. In my panic, I'd completely forgotten the overnight bag I'd packed. So, for the time being, I was naked and covered only by the thin blanket Tess had given me.
The lotus ceremony finished up, and Ray and Tess pulled up some chairs to sit beside me. Tess had gone topless and had laid a sleeping Suri carefully across her chest, doing skin-to-skin so they could establish the proper mother-baby bond. Her eyes were red and raw, and fresh tears were falling from them.
"Fawn," she began, "you'll never know how much this means 'ta us."
"You're welcome," I said, offering the couple a tired smile. "She was a rowdy tenant, but I'd gladly do it again to give you guys the family you want. You'll be an amazing mom, Tess."
Tess let out a small sob that turned into a chuckle. "Thank 'ya."
Ray rubbed his wife's back, his own fresh tears falling. "We have something very special to give you, Fawn. It's...the closest thing we have to fully repaying you."
Tess nodded. "Money ain't enough. It would never be enough."
In sync, both couples removed the pieces of jewelry I'd never seen them without: Tess, her quartz pendant; Ray, his sea glass bracelet. Without a word, both new parents bestowed the items on me as if it were a coronation. Tess slipped the pendant around my neck and flipped my hair out from under the chain it hung on. Ray carefully slid the band of clattering sea-green beads over my hand until it came to rest softly on my wrist.
I looked at the new gifts with a grateful smile. "Something to remember you guys by?"
The couple gave each other one of their classic knowing grins.
"No," Tess said. "We chose these items months ago. They were always intended for who our surrogate would be."
I tilted my head to the side like a confused dog -- I guess the puppy pads were appropriate after all. "What?"
"From the day we met you, we've been praying over them," Ray explained, repeating the hand-over-heart motion I'd frequently seen him do with the hand that had worn the bracelet. "Each milestone we reached, we made sure our joy in the moment was stored in the crystals."
"Quartz is best to channel the energy of a mother, for Mother Gaia," Tess explained. "Glass shaped by the sea is best for a father's energy, for all life was fathered by the sea."
We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. The only sound was the soft cooing Surinder made in her sleep.
"We want you 'ta be a part of this family, Fawn," Tess said. "We've put a part of our essence into these crystals. Our joy, our love, our gratitude. So, whenever 'ya wear 'em, we'll be with 'ya."
Now I was crying. I opened my jaw to say something, but nothing came.
"We've talked about it, and..." Ray said with a smile. "...if you would like to, we'd be more than happy to have you stay here with us until you get back on your feet."
"Livin' out here has been much less of a headache than in the city," Tess continued. "We could help you find a nice 'lil place of your own sometime soon, a home where you can make a life for 'yaself."
There was another pause. I let tears fall silently down my bewildered face.
"You don't talk much about 'ya family," Tess said. "You don't owe us no explanation, but...Ray and I figured...you might need someone in 'ya corner."
That was it. That was the killing blow.
I jumped forward and threw my arms over Ray, collapsing into sobs I hadn't experienced in months. I would've grabbed both of them, but Tess had the baby. I didn't actually say anything to them, but I think they got the message.
Maybe there was something to those New Age ideas of theirs. As I sat there sobbing, I swear I could feel the warmth of Tess and Ray's love seeping into my skin through those minerals.
It seeped through my blood and sinew, and even though bone. It settled into the bleeding wound in my soul that refused to heal, the one that had been torn open the first time I called my family after the fallout:
My own mother, the one who promised to love me no matter what life threw, plunged the knife in and twisted it. The last words she ever spoke to me...were a threat to kill me if I ever tried to come back home.
The warmth of Ray and Tess's gift poured into that wound like warm honey -- not healing it, but soothing it for the first time in three years.
Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe the heat in the jewelry was just from their body heat.
But I was sure about one thing:
I wasn't alone anymore.
~ END ~
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