#all her behaviour makes no sense otherwise

[rarilee33]

if you liked Synnøve Macody Lund in Saw X as Cecilia, you might want to watch Black Widows, the 2016 Scandinavian tv show where she plays Johanne who is, for all intents and purposes, very much obviously in love with her best friend Rebecka (they do not actually kiss... but they should've)

their friend Kira is also There

[improbable-outset]

for an angst/whatever else Miguel fic

what about an inexperienced reader who has a shitty bf and he makes a cruel joke at her expense in front of people, including miguel, who's her boss and later or something miguel comments on it to her and it can either lead to smut or fluff, your choice 💓

Hi anon, thanks for the request. I might’ve gone a little carried away with this one heh…

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Toxic relationship, Manipulative and controlling behaviour, humiliation, alcohol consumption, unresolved pinning 👀, fluff and comfort, intimate tension.

𝐀/𝐍: WE ARE SO BACK. While writing this, I’ve discovered that writing toxic characters is actually kinda fun and amusing, especially with dialogues

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: During a company dinner party, you find yourself humiliated by your current boyfriend. Seeking some escape, you confide with your boss, Miguel, whose support reveals some hidden emotions you’ve buried.

Your reflection stared back at you blankly as you fixed the strap of your dress for the umpteenth time. Despite the dress fitting you perfectly, you couldn’t stop yourself from anxiously adjusting it— even if there was nothing to fix.

Social events were always outside of your forte but you wanted to put yourself out there, especially given the fact that it was an event from your work.

You wanted to look your best for tonight and make yourself as presentable as you could, leaving a lasting impression outside of the work environment.

You quickly patted the beads of sweat that were forming from your forehead before touching up on your makeup.

“Are you ready?” A male voice called out from outside the room. Your chest clenched slightly, a sudden sense of urgency washing over you.

“Almost,” there wasn’t much for you to do now but you didn't want to leave the house just yet.

Not a moment passed before Adam stepped in the room. He had a tone build and wore a dress shirt with contrasting dark pants for the occasion. His hair was combed back and he was growing out a stubble that gave a charming feature to his look.

Adam’s held his gaze on your form, eyeing you and your outfit. You felt a tinge of self consciousness until you saw a small amused smile on his face.

“What?” You asked teasingly.

“Nothing,” he stated, his line of sight still sweeping over you. “You look phenomenal, as usual.”

The compliment made your chest warm. You met Adam through a mutual friend at work. Before you got together, you were typically more reserved and kept conversations with everyone to a minimum.

But Adam would always try to spark a conversation with you, even when you gave him one worded answer. He even tried to invite you to socials outside of work with your other co-workers in an attempt to get you to open up.

Though you knew it was only an excuse for him to get to know you and to get your attention, even if it was just disguised as a regular polite conversation. Eventually you caved in to him and a few friendly conversations later, he asked you out.

You took another look in the mirror. There was something missing in the look. You reached over to your vanity drawer and pulled out one of your favourite lipstick shades before putting it on.

Adam leaned over to see your reflection in the mirror and frowned. “Oh…are you wearing that shade of lipstick again?”

You turned to look at him. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t suit you,” he said simply, his tone casual but the words stinging like a slap. It was one of your favourite lipsticks, a shade you thought complimented you well. No one had ever said otherwise.

“Really? Everyone has said that it matches with my complexion,” you arched your brow in confusion to disguise how bothered you were.

“Well, I’m telling you that it doesn’t look good on you,” he further added. All the reassurances you felt from the compliment you received was replaced with a dull ache.

“I wore it on our first date and you said that you loved it.”

You remembered you were feeling nervous and thought you didn’t look good enough. But Adam reassured you that you look beautiful and that was enough to lift your mood throughout the entire date.

But after hearing his comment just now, you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“I said I liked the outfit, not the lipstick specifically,” he corrected.

“Should I take it off then?” Reluctantly, you picked up a tissue from the box with trembling hands, ready to wipe it off your lips.

Adam didn’t reply, instead looking at his watch impatiently.

“Look, we need to leave now if we want to avoid the traffic. Meet me in the car in five minutes,” he instructed, completely dismissing your question before leaving the room abruptly, now driven by urgency.

Just to save yourself from hearing him point it out again, you wiped off the lipstick from your lips. However, before you left the room, you packed the lipstick in your purse. A small act of defiance.

As you made your way to the car, you saw Adam fumbling with the glove compartment from the passenger side. Whatever he was looking for, he managed to find it and keep it hidden from your view before you could open the passenger side door.

You stepped in and buckled yourself up before you closed the door behind you. Unintentionally, you closed it harder than you intended, causing Adam to jolt in response.

“Hey, hey easy with the door babe-” he reprimanded, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“What?”

“Are you trying to break the car?” He tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk but failed— his feeble lightheartedness faded like over washed denim.

“I didn’t slam it that hard.” You quipped back.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could tell that he didn’t want to dampen the mood and argue about this, especially now.

Defuse the spark before it gets ignited.

This wasn’t the first time you fought about something trivial. He left the argument hanging and pulled out a small box.

So this was what he was getting from the glove compartment…

“Here, I got this for you,” His voice switched like a flipping coin, as he opened the box to reveal a necklace. Your eyes widen, taking in the sight of the jewellery that glistened under the low lighting in the car.

The necklace was a silver chain with a pendant that matched with the dress you were wearing. He took the necklace out of the cushion packaging and gestured for you to come closer.

“Come here. Let me help you put it on,” he said. You leaned forward so he could reach the back of your neck.

His fingers grazed on your skin as he fastened the clasp, an act that felt almost too intimate given the recent tension. The coolness of the metal brushed against your neck.

“It’s beautiful. But what’s the occasion?” You asked, one of your hands reaching to touch the pendant. It sat on your neckline perfectly.

“Do I need a motive to give you a gift? I thought these things would be more spontaneous if they came from the heart,” he said as he put on the car's ignition. The engine hummed to life and Adam drove off the driveway with one hand on the wheel.

The car was bathed in his cologne smell. It wasn’t his usual signature scent that he used everyday. This has a spicy undertone to match the occasion, though you preferred his usual scent to this. The aroma seemed to cling into the air and linger long after he sprayed it. You didn’t want to admit that it was too strong for your liking.

You cruised through the streets smoothly and watched as you passed each building and property. Adam glanced over at you from the corner of his eyes, lingering for a moment before he spoke.“You know, I hope you can handle yourself tonight.”

His eyes went back on the road, leaving you perplexed from his comment. Did he think you needed babysitting?

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot lately.” He said, teetering with the edge of criticism before he continued. “Don’t you think you should be a bit more sociable at these events? It’s not a good look to be the quiet one in the corner,”

You frowned at that. You knew that navigating through small talks wasn’t your strongest suit but you didn’t need him to tell you how to act. It felt patronising.

“Are you seriously concerned about that? I always preferred to let my work speak for itself.”

“But this isn’t another day in the office, this is a dinner party,”

“I think I’ll be fine,”

“We’ll see,” There was an edge to his response that made your gut twist.

The car fell quiet between the two of you, with the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional honks from passing cars.

Adam broke the silence again, desperate to kill the awkward tension that he had caused. “So, are you looking forward to the event at least?”

“Yeah, it should be interesting. I don’t think they’ve done anything like this before,”

“You’re right,” he said “It might be the new HR coordinator they hired. Seems like they’re trying to make a good first impression.”

Your destination was coming into view now. The venue where the event was taking place was not too far from the main facility building, making it convenient for the employees that were attending.

It was the company’s 25th anniversary so there were a lot of guests attending, which also meant the car park outside the venue was packed. Adam had to drive around the block— you didn’t miss the annoyed scowl on his face— before he found a decent spot to park.

After killing the engine you both stepped out of the car and made your way to the gate. The entrance was dotted with recessed floor lights, highlighting the pathway along with flowers that adorned the grass area.

You recognised a few of your colleagues from your department. It was refreshing seeing them outside of their work attire and in more festive wear.

Stepping inside, you were first introduced to the complimentary drinks before the main hall that was beautifully decorated. The sound of heels clicking and glass clinking bounced off the walls. The company really went far out to organise this, and you had to admit, you were impressed.

The tension from the car ride still lingered in your mind, but you were determined to make the best of the event, despite the rough start. The buzz in the room helped you forget about your unease.

As you padded further into the room, you spotted a few familiar faces from your department. Jess, one of your closest coworkers and best mentor you’ve had, caught your eye and approached you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, glad you two could make it,” she greeted you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adam replied.

Jess leaned in for a hug, and you returned with air kisses on each cheek. She stepped back to admire your outfit. “You look incredible. That dress looks so good on you, girl.”

A sense of gratitude washed over you at that. “Thanks, Jess.”

“We’ve saved you a space on our table at the back,” she said before you all made a beeline through the throng of people.

As you made your way to your seats, you caught sight of Miguel, your boss, from the corner of your eye. You turned your attention over to him momentarily, while still following Adam and Jess towards the back.

His height and physique naturally drew attention. Or maybe it was the way he had presented himself tonight. You didn’t know what it was that made him seem more alluring.

His outfit wasn’t vastly different from what you would normally see at work. He wore a well-fitted blazer that accentuated his form.

It wasn’t tight enough to show off his bulging muscles overtly, but it wasn’t loose either. A balance of both, maintaining a modest look that still seemed to draw wondering eyes.

Adam pulled out a chair for you, an unexpected show of chivalry, before taking his own seat. You couldn’t help but pick up on his charms and how his mannerism was a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor back in the car.

You and Jess caught up and chatted for a while. You twisted your body so you could fully face her but as you did, your elbow accidentally knocked over a glass of water. If it weren’t for Adam’s quick reflexes and catching it before it tipped over, the water would’ve spilled all over you.

“Careful babe, that would’ve been a disaster,” Adam said with a hint of concern.

You still felt your nerves spiked from the small shock but it was quickly relieved when Adam placed the glass safely away from the edge. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see that glass there,”

He peered at you with an unreadable expression. You had an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to say something condescending but you couldn’t tell.

A sly smile played on his lips. “It’s alright, babe. Hey, do you remember when you spilled coffee all over the table during your interview?”

You felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. That was a moment you would rather forget, especially in front of the people you work with every day.

You noticed a few of your colleagues at the dinner table glancing over at you. Their eyes felt like lasers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.

“Did she really do that?” You heard one of them asked, you didn’t want to find out who.

You felt a hint of irritation that they didn’t address the question directly at you. It was as if you were invisible, a subject of gossip.

Adam let out a chuckle before he said, “Yeah, I’m surprised she even got the job after that. If it were me, I would’ve been too embarrassed to show my face again,”

You could feel multiple eyes on you as Adam recounted the story. This wasn’t something that you would like to share with anyone else, so you didn’t understand why Adam was telling everyone as if he were sharing an amusing anecdote. It felt like betrayal.

It had taken you a while for you to open up to Adam enough for you to share some embarrassing stories like that. Knowing that he was going to share them like an open book so casually felt like an icy grip around your throat.

Despite your silence and reluctance to look at everyone, Adam seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Either he was ignoring you, or was blinded by his bravado to even notice. Jess managed to see your change in demeanor and how quiet you were all of a sudden.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested, placing a hand on your shoulder as a silent comfort. Everyone seemed to agree and the conversation steered away from the topic of you.

As the evening progressed, you managed to emerge out of your shell again from your previous embarrassment. You engaged in light conversations with your colleagues, though you found yourself listening more than talking.

Throughout the interactions, you didn’t notice a familiar pair of eyes that was observing you from afar and picking up on all of your body language silently.

The food served was exquisite and left everyone more than satisfied. Between courses, the CEO took the stage to give a speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication throughout the years.

A loud round of applause erupted in the room, accompanied by smiles from everyone. You could feel the sense of unity and camaraderie in the room.

Dinner was followed by an open bar, which meant more mingling. There were more guests now after dinner than there were when you arrived, so the room felt more confined and bustling.

The mixture of alcohol and perfume smelled like an intoxicating fume. Adam effortlessly moved around from one group of people to another, his presence was booming with flamboyance wherever he went.

He was able to attract people’s interest with his bold body language and confident speech.

You, on the other hand, focused on the small group you were sitting with. You decided to stay at the table, enjoying the conversation and occasionally chiming in with your input.

As you were lost in the office gossip that everyone was exchanging, Adam approached your table with a drink in hand. He leaned in to kiss your cheek before he took a seat next to you.

You didn’t miss the looks that some of your female colleagues flashed at you both. You couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, but it definitely sent a prickly sensation through you. How charming…

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, his tone casual and calmer now.

“Yeah, it’s nice catching up with everyone,” you shifted wearily in your seat.

Adam’s gaze locked onto you as you took another sip from your drink. His stare felt like poking needles and you could tell that he was going to say something.

“You might want to be careful there, babe. Remember the incident last time…”

“Adam please,”

“…you threw up on the sidewalk? You’re lucky no one else was around to see you,”

Your grip around the glass tightened and you wanted to plummet through the floor. You started to wonder if his bold personality and ability to entertain people in a conversation came at the expense of embarrassing others for some laughs.

Being the ass of the joke.

Did he feed off of the attention? Was that why he kept doing this? You noticed no one was laughing. Some gave you sympathetic looks, while others felt awkward.

Adam took this opportunity to add on to the story, his voice resounding with pride. “And I had to carry her home. I felt like a hero that day,”

You forced a smile to try and disguise your discomfort that flickered in your eyes. At this point you didn’t know how to respond or act. But the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, especially over a comment.

You waited until the subject of the conversation changed again so you didn’t look suspicious before you rose from your seat.

“I’ll be back,” you said as you took a few steps away, excusing yourself from the group. “Just need to freshen up,”

You left the bar and made your way to the end of the room. There was the dreadful feeling that everyone in the room was staring at you as you swiftly manoeuvred past them. The desire to escape the room intensified with each step.

Finally, you reached the door to the patio and stepped outside. Thankfully, there were only a few people scattered around, making it easier to uncoil the tension that built up inside you.

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh air — a relief from the stuffiness inside. Even with the different environment and open space, you still felt the modification catching up to you.

“Is he always like that?” A sudden, familiar rich voice pulled you out of your misery.

You turned to see Miguel standing a few steps behind you. “What?”

He looked striking now that you were up close to him, with the soft glow of the patio light highlighting his features.

His expression was serious when he said “Your boyfriend, Adam. Does he always treat you like that?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly before you spoke. “Oh…yeah. He just has a habit of making jokes like that. It’s just his humor,”

“Interesting sense of humour he has, making you the punchline every time,” he paused, his gaze drifting towards the clear night sky before returning to you. “I find it amusing that you’ve gotten used to being treated like that,”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend…I shouldn’t be—”

“You know, being someone’s boyfriend doesn’t give him the excuse to humiliate you. Why do you keep defending him like this?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you kept making excuses for him. Maybe it was easier to downplay the situation than confront reality. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t that serious in the first place— or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“He’s not always like this. He’s supportive in other ways. But he does get carried away sometimes,”

“Supportive? Do you mean when he points out your mistakes in front of everyone?” He arched his brow, obviously skeptical.

His words shook you but you had to admit, you didn’t believe your own words, especially after tonight.

“I don’t want to seem too sensitive. I’ve been with him for so long. It’s hard to think about leaving him…”

“Don’t let history keep you in place. You shouldn’t lower your standards just because he’s your boyfriend,”

There was a pause that hung between the two of you. The chilling air was nipping at your bare arms now but you didn’t want to step back inside.

The muffled chaos that you could still hear was enough to make your brain melt. You turned to look at the door that led back inside the bar, a sickening feeling churned inside your stomach.

“I don’t want to go back in there yet,” you admitted.

“Then don’t.” He followed your line of sight before he looked back at you. “We can stay out here for as long as you need to,”

You didn’t speak again after that. Your mind seemed to drift to the facility building that wasn’t far from here. The thought of a quiet secluded space was becoming increasingly appealing now.

You noticed the flicker of curiosity that crossed Miguel’s face as you looked far ahead before realisation gradually dawned on him. He seemed to pick up on your gaze and spoke your mind for you.

“You know, my office isn’t far from here,” he commented, voice boarding a suggestive tone.

“Yeah…I know,”

“Why don’t we head there instead? We can stay there as long as you want without being interrupted,”

“I don’t know…” You knew you didn’t want to be here anymore, but you couldn’t just leave, especially unannounced.

“There’s no one there at this time, and it’s quieter than this place,”

The offer was tempting, but what would Adam say? “I can’t leave Adam here,”

“You still think you need to be with him?” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping closer towards you. “Let him fend for himself for a while. I could tell you weren’t having a good time in there,”

You thought about it for a moment. What was the harm in stepping out for a little while? Adam couldn’t say anything if he didn’t know, right? You did owe it to yourself after everything that had happened, after all.

“Alright,” you agreed. Before you knew it, you were walking towards the car park and stepped into Miguel’s car and on your way. It didn’t take long until you arrived outside the familiar surroundings of the establishment.

The slick glass exterior of the building stood out in the night. During the day, it would be bustling with people coming in and out through the revolving doors.

Now, it was quiet and not a sound could be heard. But even if the building wasn’t running its usual course, there were still some occupants inside with a few of the lights on.

As you made your way inside to Miguel’s office, there was a comfortable silence. Miguel’s presence felt like a calming anchor in the sea of your anxiety.

Once you made it outside his office, Miguel held the door for you to step in. “After you,”

Miguel flickered the lights on before closing the door with a click, sealing off the blaring noise of the outside world. “It’s quieter here. You can take a breath,”

His office gave a different aura at night compared to what you were used to in the day time. The windows that provided a stunning view of Nueva York twinkled with the city lights. You couldn’t help but stare out in awe.

You turned back to look at him and he handed you a water bottle. “Thank you, Miguel,”

The condensation of the water bottle felt cool against the pad of your fingers.

By now the alcohol was settling in your bloodstream, creating a gentle warmth that radiated in your chest. You felt like you were floating as you walked over to take a seat on one of the plush chairs.

You were starting to notice that the alcohol made you forget about Adam and his concerns about your whereabouts and what he might think or say.

You cracked open the bottle and took a small sip, the cold water tickling your throat.

“So, how have you been handling things lately?” Miguel asked, taking a seat on his usual office chair.

You were grateful the topic wasn’t centered around Adam anymore. You didn’t want to linger on the sting of his words and actions from earlier.

“Well, I’ve been working on that new project proposal so that has been consuming most of my time,”

“I’ve noticed your dedication and your work on the proposal has been impressive so far,” Miguel’s voice carried a note of genuine admiration.

“Thank you…it means a lot hearing that from you,” you replied. You felt a sudden tingling sensation coarse through you and you knew it had nothing to do with being under the influence.

It was a mystery to you but Miguel’s compliments seemed to resonate with you, making your heart quicken slightly. You didn’t feel this type of effect with Adam, not even at the start of your relationship.

Miguel gave a small nod, his eyes studying your keen interest. “I’ve noticed you prefer working alone rather than in a team. You seem more comfortable that way,”

You were taken back slightly by the subject change. Where was he going with this?

“I guess I do. Sometimes it’s easier to focus that way,”

“It’s important to have people who support you. Do you have someone like that?”

Despite trying your best not to think about it, the question pulled your mind back to Adam. After all, he was supposed to be your support system, the first person you go to. “I thought I did but I’m not so sure now,”

You didn’t know what you were expecting after tonight. Miguel seemed to pick up on who exactly you were thinking about.

“How do you really feel about you and Adam?” He asked.

You recalled the conversation before you left the house for the party, when you were still getting ready. You still remembered putting on the lipstick and how you thought you looked good before Adam’s remark.

That wasn’t the first time he had put you down like that when your confidence was at your high. Did he feel threatened by your self-assurance?

“Well, he’s always been charming but recently he’s been more…critical, especially in front of others. I don’t know where this change of character came from.”

As you spoke, you felt yourself unraveling all of your true inner thoughts about Adam now— one’s that you tried so hard to push away just to salvage your relationship.

Perhaps some liquid encouragement and having the right person to talk to was needed for you to loosen your tongue and finally admit all of this.

“Sometimes, people reveal their true colours under pressure,”

You pondered that. Maybe Adam was trying to fit in and had some unresolved issues. Whatever it was, that didn’t justify his actions and the way he treated you.

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of conflicted emotions. “It has been a lot to handle tonight. I never expected him to be so cruel. Part of me wants to stay and fix things, but at the same time….I want something more,”

You didn’t know why it took you this long to finally confess it but now that you did, the air left lighter.

“You deserve something more.” Miguel said softly. His words, though simple, charged with meaning and something more. Affection?

You were so lost in a trance when opening up your emotions, you haven’t realised the close proximity between the two of you. Close enough to capture the faint smell of his sweet musk.

It made you wonder if he was talking about something beyond your professional ambitions. Miguel leaned closer— either he was studying your expressions or memorising your features.

However the moment was cut short when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse, shattering the fragility in the room and yanking you back to reality. Startled by the sudden noise, you fumbled in your purse to retrieve your phone.

You felt bile creeping up your throat when you saw Adam’s name on the notification. The text was short but jarring.

‘Where are you? We need to talk’

Shit…

Adam needs to get decked ‼️

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @cl3stevu @tarjapearce (GIRL I GOT INSPIRED BY YOUR TENTATEUR FIC OMLL) @lazyjellyfish300 @kavimoo @laysmt

@mybvalentine @boringpersonality @mun-2996 @leshasnolife @slut4oscarissac23

I was originally going to add smut to this but it didn’t feel right. Especially the position that reader is in here. If this does end well, I MIGHT do a part 2 where she finally ends things with Adam and smut

Ayrus xoxo

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SNEAKY !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: lewis was known for his year-end parties. the grid would be shocked to find out what else he was known for.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, lewis and reader on their sneaky link behaviour, p in v penetration, doggy or whatever pierre said, filthy, dom!lewis energy, fucking in a club bathroom vibes, utter nonsense— just lewis being filthy as fuck, drivers being drunk (max, charles and lando), bit of a twist at the end but not really???

rec music: disco tits by tove lo

note: shout out to @daaiissyyyyy for listening to my recent fever ramble at 11 pm— she gave me the thought to write for lewis after giving this music prompt eheh. i’m sick of sf23 and w14 so now i’m just writing ✨fuckall✨ enjoy xx

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if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

lewis was known for a lot of things: his sense of fashion, desire to make panty-dropping songs, his impressive record in formula one and of course…

the extravagant parties that never failed to live up to everyone’s expectations. 

now this was the first time he’s hosted a big party in his new york penthouse since his previous championship win before covid — 2019.

and 2023 was the most frustrating season for most drivers and lewis hamilton wasn’t an exception to that; after all, most teams splurged as much money as red bull did with their cars yet the crown was handed over to max and the austrian team in a gold plate. 

because of the same results every year, the brit couldn’t find himself to care much about it anymore.

instead, after the abu dhabi race he texted the group chat and invited them over for a party he was going to host after the prize giving ceremony. 

yet, when the drivers came over to his penthouse with their girlfriends and their peers — the host was found nowhere in sight. 

tove lo’s music boomed loudly as sweaty bodies hit the dance floor. the world champion - max verstappen - was chatting with the ferraris and lando about whatever the fuck he was planning to do during the break. most drivers were dancing and drinking. 

yet, amongst the sea of intoxicated and desperate people, none of them were lewis.

he was known for his parties. but what they didn’t know was that his parties were nothing but excuses to feel the adrenaline rush pump through his bloodstream without taking the drugs for it.

because he was upstairs in his room, thick cock spearing inside someone’s cunt as the woman screamed silently. her manicured nails clutching the sheets under her as drool escaped her mouth, her head down while her ass was arched up. 

lewis grunted as he lustfully traced down her spine and smacked her ass. “god, fuck! such a good pussy, doll.” 

“lew- lewis, fuck,” she cursed him in a foreign language that he couldn’t care to understand, her eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck her from behind. “i feel so full, oh~ god~ yes- yes- keep fucking me like that.”

“like this?” she let out a pitiful whine when he moved and roughly hit her sensitive spot with his cock.

her head was pushed against the mattress as she whined, his cock rubbing against the spot repeatedly while she inaudibly babbled. 

he demanded firmly, “you gotta tell me how do i fuck you, baby, otherwise i’m not gonna—“

“—fuck! yes, keep hitting that spot please,” she cried out, tears threatening fall from the pleasure she felt. 

in the moment of grunting and whining, no one downstairs could hear them as they fucked like rabbits in heat. thank god for the party that lewis had paid for. if anyone ever found out, they’d immediately assume that he only hosted this just to get her away from everyone. 

her walls clenched around him as he moaned aloud, “this pussy is so good— so tight f’me, princess.” 

the tip of his cock hit her cervix as she cried, “please lewis, please— wanna cum~”

“mmh~ god,” lewis groaned loudly, his deep lusty voice echoing inside the room alongside the slapping of their skins and her moans. “gonna cum soon, baby— gonna be a good girl and cum with me?”

“mhm yeah,” she nodded. 

“good because— ah~ keep doin’ that- i’m- ah fuck!” lewis grunted as his thrusting slowed. she came, too, her walls clenching around him still as she reached her climax and the sense of euphoria washed over her. 

lewis’ face was beaded with sweat and pleasure, leaning forward for a brief moment to keep his composure. his cock remained inside her as he pulled up her head and tangled his tongue with hers. 

he sighed, the sound of contentment covering up her quivering breath as he smirked mischievously.

this was a celebration, indeed.

this, however, was a celebration for the two of them only. this was how she rewarded him for putting up with this season, and lewis simply accepted her reward without hesitation.

after all, not everyone in the grid got to get a taste of her. if everyone found out, they’d be jealous. for one driver, they’d be furious— but lewis couldn’t find himself to care right now.

“lewis!” ten minutes later, charles, max and lando found the older british driver in his minibar. 

lewis looked at the trio with curious eyes as charles started, “have you seen max’s sister?”

lewis’ eyes narrowed for a brief moment, “max’s… sister?” he then looked at max with a questioning look.

“yeah, my eldest sister— i brought her tonight. you’ve met her earlier, remember?” the world champion asked lewis with the naivety that everyone else carried in the room. 

oh, lewis had met her, alright. 

he met her tonight. and the races before tonight. and the summer break. and almost everyday. not that the world champion had a knowledge of it. 

lewis let out an ‘ah’ as if he realized who the dutchman was talking about, “that sister! i think i’ve seen her—“

“mon sœur!” my sister! charles exclaimed, slurring out his words as he pointed at the direction of the staircase. “wait… max’s sister!”

there stood max’s sister, who looked less frazzled and fucked out than what she looked like ten minutes ago.

lewis almost chuckled. she’s quick to pretend like she hadn’t had a cock inside her just about now— that’s what lewis loved about her. she knew when to play pretend. 

max’s eyes narrowed at his sister while she approached the group. she immediately glanced at lewis, who merely smirked at the sight of her. max continued to pester her, “where the hell have you been? we’ve been looking for you for an hour!”

“bullshit,” lando called out with a laugh, “you were fucking singing disco tits the entire time! stop lying to everyone!”

the woman’s head cocked to the side as she smirked at her little brother. max’s face flushed red and shoved lando, “shut up.”

“well, i’m here now— and you’re drunk,” she pointed at max. “we’re going.”

“already???” max whined. “fineeee~”

“alright well,” lewis finally spoke. “it’s nice having you lots here. i’ll catch up with you soon, yeah?” but his eyes remained at the sight of her as he smiled. he wasn’t even talking to max or his friends— but her. 

she smirked too (not that the three younger men noticed) and nodded, “absolutely. we’ll catch up with you soon, lewis. thanks for the invite.” 

and it wasn’t even fifteen minutes later after the verstappen siblings departed when the knighted driver received a text.

the better verstappen 🥰: thanks for the invite, lew 💗 i hope the compensation paid off

lh 🫶: you know that times spent with you are worth more than one shitty season my love 😉

lh 🫶: def made things better after abu dhabi tho. what do you think about going to san marino and bora bora for the long break?

the better verstappen 🥰: for you? i’ll keep excusing myself from max’s family vacation plans baby

♡   moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

[enwoso]

hey, could you try write something platonic for arsenal x reader with anger issues and the team getting the brunt of it? maybe like kim/leah having to deal with them or learn to calm them down? something along those lines idrk hahahah

NOT YOU — arsenal wfc x reader

this went in a different direction then what i had originally planned. sorry if some sorts don’t make sense i wrote this while i was half asleep. but enjoy x

warnings: talks of an absent father, few swear words

masterlist

the team was worried about. more specifically kim and leah were worried about you. they had never seen you act the way you had in the past. usually you were always laughing and joking around with kyra, pulling pranks and overall just being a pest.

but something had switched, little things were making you snap more quicker than usual, you were making harsh tackles on your own teammates as well as making rude remarks to anyone who tried to talk to you which wasn't totally out of the normal but your actions were speaking louder than your words at the moment.

the team knew you had a short fuse but it had never been this bad before. something had lit your fuse.

the girls had tried everything to try and figure out what had happened but nothing seemed to work but by the day, your anger was starting to build and leah and kim were worried it was about to spill over and were worried for whoever was on the receiving line for when that actually happened.

"we need to try and figure out what is wrong with y/n, she's gonna seriously hurt someone otherwise" kim said as she walked back from the training fields with leah by her side, who immediately agreed with the scot.

a hushed talk of the other girls in front on the two talking about your negative attitude. the two giving each other a look knowing the longer your temper and bad mood continued the more it was going to affect the team.

you were walking behind everyone else, by yourself letting your thoughts override as you walked along the gravelled path of colney. your boots hanging from your hand as the wind hit your bare legs.

you were last to walk into the locker room to grab your bag as well as being one of the last to leave. checking your phone to look at the time but being met with several messages from your dad.

rolling your eyes at them as your scowl deepening as you didn’t even bother to read any of them knowing it whatever he had written but be a whole load of waffle, as the man couldn’t tell the truth if smacked him in the face and said ‘i’m here!’

you and your dad had a complicated relationship, actually scratch that, that was putting it in nice terms. to you he was a deadbeat dad, or you could go as far as saying a sad excuse for a father.

chucking your shoes on and tying the laces when you felt a showed stand over you, noticing the shoes you knew who it was before you even looked up.

“y/n, can we have a chat?” kim asked calmly, as you looked at her not saying anything instead nodding for her to continue. knowing that this chat had been coming as you’d noticed the looks and chats she’d been having with leah and a few of the others girls — knowing that it would most likely be about you.

“you don’t have to tell me but i can tell your not yourself y/n and we’re all here for you and we just want to help you if we can but- your behaviour is starting to affect the team” she began as you just sat on the bench not showing the scot any emotion. kim was walking on egg shells as she spoke, you being able to sense her trying to pick her words carefully.

“you going to seriously injure someone if you carry on lashing out at people. so if there anything we can help with?” kim spoke in the same spoke tone, you leg bouncing up and down your head was a mess and the last thing you wanted was to have someone pity you.

you didn’t like pity.

you shook your head, “nope i’m all good!” packing your bag up and slinging it on your shoulder.

“are you sure- cause we-“

“kim! i said i’m good! just leave it at that! leave me fucking be!” you spat storming out the room. the door slamming as you walked down the corridor. regret and guilt filling your body with each step, but you were sick of people asking you if you were okay, babying you.

why couldn’t they all just take the hint when you said you were fine?

“y/n.” her voice echoed along the corridor, making you freeze. “c’mere” leah spoke in a stern tone, as you turned around half of the blondes body poking out of one of the meeting rooms.

dragging your feet to where she was, taking in a big breath as you walked into the empty room. taking a seat in one of the chairs as leah turned on her heel the door clicking shut as she stood tall in front of you her arms folded across her chest, almost intimidating you.

“what’s going on? this isn’t the y/n i know.” leah said in the same tone she’d spoken to you in just a few minutes ago. you stayed silent, a part of you scared you may lash out at the blonde too.

leah knew you best out of anyone on the team, she was the one you trusted most out of the team even if she was several years younger than you. she was the one that took you under her wing when you first started training with the first team.

with that though meant the blonde could read you like a book. you couldn’t lie to her like you easily could to the others as she would know the minute you opened your mouth.

“maybe this is the new y/n” you spoke in a hushed tone, shrugging your shoulders as leah raised her eyebrows confused at your words.

“no. no, this isn’t you. has something happened with your mum?” she asked, as she watched your body language closely as that was the closest she was getting to you actually giving the blonde some clues as to what had happened.

your shoulders tense up a little more. leah knew about your close relationship with your mum how she was your number one supporter, the england captain having quite a good relationship with her, herself.

you shook your head, “no, my mums fine” you paused before continuing.

"my dads’ been back in contact." you mumbled as a sigh of defeat come from you. the room filling with silence as leah came and sat down next to you putting her arm around you not saying anything yet as she knew you hadn't finished what you wanted to say yet.

"begging to be back in my life, that he's so proud that i'm his daughter, that he misses me blah blah blah, coming back into my life once again when it’s convenient for him." the bitterness was obvious in your tone of voice as you spoke, it told the whole story for itself.

leah knew about the your history with your father, how he had treat you and your mother when you were little before leaving your mum to carry on your upbringing as a single parent when you were just four.

but then every few years he would pop back up into your life, wanting and begging to be apart of it. that he had changed and wasn’t the same man he was when you were five.

but you had learned the hard way, that people like him. they don’t change.

so the first couple of times when he would spring back up when you were younger, he would promise you the world. that he would promise take you out for the day and spoil you with anything and everything you want claiming it as his way of making up for lost time but it would always end the same way.

you sitting on the bottom step of your stairs, hair all nicely done, dressed in an outfit you would spent hours figuring out what to wear. you would sit there for hours, the sound of the clock ticking away. all for him to just not turn up and then make a lame excuse up as you cried in your mums arms.

so the last time you saw him before the past week, was when you were 15 just after making it into your first youth camp with england as well as joining the arsenal academy, your dad had told you that he had met someone in america and that he was moving there.

a small part of you was a little hurt but the majority of you was happy as sad as it sounds but he was never really a dad to you.

“i thought he was living in america?” leah asked as you hummed, a mock laugh coming over you “me too, until he showed up at my door at 6 in the morning!”

“thinking he was going to just have a place to stay at mine as if he didn’t just leave for 5 years no messages, no calls. then when i said no he started trying to manipulate me, saying how im such a bad daughter-“ you breathed out feeling leah squeeze your shoulders, her hand rubbing up and down your arms for comfort.

“have you spoken to your mum about this? does she know he’s back in london?” leah asked quietly as you shook your head. “no, she doesn’t need that stress right now.”

“i don’t know what to do le, everytime i go home he’s there. i don’t even fuckjng know how he got my address.” your voice cracked, all the emotions you’d been holding in for the past week finding flooding over.

you were conflicted, cause whilst you had spent so many years hating your father for never being there or if he was it was only when it suited him and not when you really needed him. you wanted to believe he’d changed but his actions spoke louder and then his words.

but then again he was your dad, where you got your blood from but that was it, you didn’t really know him at all and he didn’t really know you.

you both only really knowing of each other.

“it’s okay, y/n we’ll figure it out together i promise.”

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don��t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper

Pairing: (Possibly?) Poly Team 141 x Female Reader / Female Reader x Her mental health

Content Warning: Mental Issues touched upon. Swearing.

Note: Your code names are either Grim Reader or Iron Maiden.

Words: 2502

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary:

If you can’t be perfect at something, why bother trying?

If you can’t get it right the first time, why bother?

What would they do if you had forcibly removed yourself from the equation? Would they notice that you were gone? Would they care? You went numb because of your parents. The lack of care and the added pressure to remain at the top.

"Do me a favour and just leave me alone." You said. Telling them both to go away. To leave you alone. They had each other and you were alone. Death seemed better than whatever mess awaited you back home. You have worked alone for the longest time. You require no back up. Not only that, but you don't need any pity or assistance. Death is reward in a sea of endless nightmares.

“It's not like you can stop me.” You told him. Eyes narrowing at him. Picking up your duffle bag to head out the door. “Do me favour a leave me alone.”

If you can’t be perfect at something, why bother trying?

If you can’t get it right the first time, why bother?

‘Do me a favour and go back to ignoring me. It’s what you’re good for.’ You thought.

‘Let’s get going morons. I don’t have the patience to deal with my shit and yours. Lets go already’ you think during times where people just take too long.

‘It’s war. Stop celebrating it like it’s a fucking football match and go back to work, you ignorant fucks.’ You pondered, looking over the soldiers celebrating too loudly.

‘My feelings are not yours to discuss. I will not speak endless garbage.’ You continued to glare at team 141 from afar. ‘They talk too much. Talking more doesn’t make you smarter. Nor does it make you look smarter, either.’

You have an interest in MMA, Kickboxing, axe throwing and Electrical Engineering. Your still undertaking your pathway into Electrical Engineering in different ways like the mask you wear on your face. Covering it entirely. Leaving nothing to the naked eye.

You have a high pain tolerance. An excellent one-track focus. Almost unnerving, eery according to your superiors.

You are your superior’s grim reaper as your lone wolf behaviour serves them so well. They don’t want anyone else to have you. Ever.

Thus, you have no intention of bonding with them. Once the mission is over. You intend to disappear once they turn around long enough to let you disappear.

‘Imagine looking like that.’ You heard about you. You managed to overhearing from your parent’s mouths, your bullies and the people you thought were your friends. Why bother giving someone else that chance to do it all over again when all they’ll do is leave you broken.

Your face staring back at you in the mirror. The only reason you got into the military is because of the fact that you wouldn’t be able to afford to fix your teeth otherwise. It was mostly a health reason rather than because you were so keen on ‘serving’.

All of your snacks are stored inside of a body bag to prevent people from stealing them from you. It made you feel safe and have a way to eat something without relying on other people. Even while you were growing up.

Touching your face, neck or shoulders are a big no, no for you. “Get the fuck away. Next time you do that shit, I’m hitting you in the face.” You said instinctively as a warning to get them away from you.

“Bury me in a cardboard box on the side of a highway or some shit. I don’t care.” You said once. You were annoyed and overstimulated from the lights, sounds and the combination onslaught of senses. You didn’t want more. You wanted less. You wanted to stop feeling like you were going to choke yourself or someone else.

All because you wore the evil socks that day and everything went down hill fast from there.

"Not here." You said, hoping the knock on your door would disappear as you were meditating.

You were wrong. You were wrong in a way you wish you saw coming.

The knock persisted. It grew louder, more insistent. It was as if the very wood of the door was begging for your attention. You knew it was Captain Price. His heavy footsteps and distinct knocking pattern had become all too familiar over the weeks. With a sigh, you opened the door to reveal the stern man with the unlit cigar hanging from his lips.

'God. I should have taken the drive into the lake this afternoon if I knew I was going to be bothered again.' you thought.

Captain Price looked at you with a gaze that could cut through steel. "We have a mission, Grim. Get dressed, you're coming with us." His voice was gruff, the words cutting through the silence of your room like a knife.

"Pretty sure you have all the help you need this time Captain." you snorted.

Price just stared at you. That unlit cigar doing nothing to hide the frustration in his eyes. He knew you didn’t care for the camaraderie of the squad, but that didn’t change the mission. “It’s a solo job, Grim. You’re our best shot at this. No one else can go in there and come out without raising suspicion.”

'Great. This means more time I need to get rid of excess aggression. I want to fucking kill myself.' you thought as you got ready.

You grabbed your gear, the same gear that had seen more blood than most people had in their lives. It was a grim reminder of your purpose. You were the weapon of choice for when things got too messy for the regular soldiers. The government’s way of keeping their hands clean.

The mission briefing was short and to the point. Infiltrate a heavily guarded compound, extract the intel, and eliminate the target. A simple task for anyone else, but for you, it was just another Tuesday. The room was filled with tension as the team around you studied the layout, whispering strategies and potential escape routes. You remained silent, eyes locked on the map, your mind already racing through the countless scenarios that could unfold.

Your mantra, 'I don't need you. Just as you don't need me.' echoed in your mind as you geared up. You didn't bother with the usual banter or good lucks that filled the air before a mission. They were just words. Empty, hollow promises of friendship and camaraderie that you knew would crumble under the weight of reality. You were the Grim Reaper, not their buddy. 'I am what you see when death is on the table.'

"I tolerate you. I don't intend to do more Captain." You said once, your voice as cold as the Siberian night you once fought in. You had earned your name, Grim Reaper, not just from your silent and deadly tactics, but from the emotional vacuum you carried with you. It was like speaking to a wall, but they had come to accept it.

Though the amount of aggression you had pent-up was enough to fuel a small war, you knew that you had to keep it in check. You were confronted about it, though for the life of you, you had no idea why they cared. You were heading to the gym to get rid of the excess aggression from your system.

You walked into the gym to just get to rid of it. If it was particularly traumatising, she won't speak to anyone on the way there. The sound of metal clanging and the rhythmic thump of combat boots on the floor echoed through the space as you approached the boxing ring. It was a cage match in here, but not the kind that involved a referee or an audience. Just you and your inner demons. You slammed your duffle bag down on the bench, the thud resonating in the room as you began to unpack your gear.

One such instance was today, and you were interrupted, "Ask someone else." you said and continued on your way. "Ask Ghost to help. I'm sure he's far more willing for you." You had enough pent-up to fuel a small generator.

He didn't budge, didn't move and he certainly had no intention of taking his eyes off of you. You felt like a caged animal, and Price knew it. He was the kind of man that knew when to push and when to pull. His hand rested on the doorframe, his knuckles white with the effort of holding himself back. You knew he had more to say, but he remained silent, waiting for your next move.

You came back from the most recent mission and you didn't want to talk.

You had just gotten back from a mission that had gone sideways. The intel was solid, the target was eliminated, but the compound had been a veritable hornet's nest. Bullets had flown like rain, and you had danced through the storm like a specter. But even as you walked back into the base, the stench of gunpowder and death clung to you like a second skin. You could feel it in every step you took, every breath you drew.

The gym was empty, a rare luxury in this place. You climbed into the ring, the ropes groaning slightly as you took up your stance. The bag before you was your silent adversary, the only one who never talked back, never questioned your motives, never judged your scars. You threw a punch, feeling the impact resonate up your arm, the pain a sweet release. You had done this a hundred times before, but tonight it was different. Tonight, the bag felt like it was fighting back, each hit echoing the pain you felt inside.

Your sparring match made you look more like Iron maiden than Grim Reaper. Each punch and kick sent the bag swinging, the sound of impact a cathartic symphony in the empty gym. Sweat beaded on your forehead, mixing with the grime of the day’s battle. You were lost in the rhythm, the therapeutic dance of combat, until the sound of the gym door squeaking open broke your concentration.

You spun around, fists clenched, expecting an unwelcome interruption from one of the chattering squad members. But instead, you found yourself face to face with Captain Price. He leaned against the ropes of the ring, his eyes never leaving yours. He didn’t speak, just nodded slightly, acknowledging your presence without interrupting your solitude. He knew better than to approach you after a mission like that. The air was thick with unspoken words, a silent agreement that sometimes the best conversations were the ones never had.

He still remembers when you judo threw soap when he touched your shoulders. "Keep your hands to yourself."

You could see the look in his eyes, the concern and the curiosity. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need his pity or his sympathy. You were fine. You had to be fine. You had to be the one who could handle it all, because if you weren’t, who would they send instead? The weak? The inexperienced? No, they’d send you. And you’d die.

So you ignored him, turned back to the punching bag, and threw another hit. This one was harder than the last. The bag swung back and forth, the chains groaning with each impact. The sweat on your forehead trickled down your cheek, stinging your eyes. But you didn’t flinch. You never did. That was your job, to not flinch. To not feel. To be the one who did the dirty work while everyone else patted themselves on the back and told themselves they were heroes.

Price remained there, his eyes never leaving you. You could feel his gaze boring into your back, but you ignored it. You had to. You had to keep going, keep fighting, keep moving forward. It was the only way to survive in this world. The way to keep the darkness at bay. The way to keep from breaking down.

From them seeing you as the caged animal you are. Ghost only had to hold you back once, which even for him, remains to be rather difficult, it was to give you your anti-psychotic meds which you had no idea you had to take. Ghost said, "You're an unruly beast, aren't you? Hey, stop trying to bite me." You growled afterwards. You didn’t know how to handle kindness, so you lashed out. It was easier to push people away than to let them in, only to watch them leave when they realized what you truly were. A monster, bred for war.

Ghost called you a good girl and you grimaced instead of growling, taking the pill with a sip of water. "Thanks," you murmured, trying to sound sincere. But the word felt strange in your mouth, like a foreign tongue you hadn’t spoken in a long time. You didn’t know how to be good, not when all you knew was the taste of gunpowder and the feel of cold steel.

Ghost chuckled, at your reaction, "No need to thank me, Grim. We all got our battles to fight. Just remember, we're all in this together." His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the brutal world outside the gym. For a moment, you felt a flicker of something akin to warmth. But it was fleeting, snuffed out by the cold reality of who and what you were. You nodded curtly, not trusting your voice to respond.

You slept without nightmares that night. Odd. Normally they were there.

The doctor's eyes widened slightly at your candidness, but he remained calm. "Grim, you can't keep going on like this. The mind can't handle this kind of stress indefinitely. It's not healthy."

You didn't say anything in response. The doctor 's words hung in the air, heavy and unwelcome. You didn't need a psych evaluation. You needed a mission, a target to focus on, something to keep the darkness at bay. To the doctor's surprise you allowed him to get closer. To him it was a sign of progress, to you it was just a way to get what you needed. He offered you a hand to help you up from under the table, and for a split second, you took it feeling like you were five again. Lost without your parents.

You were now on your way home. Even though you didn't want to.The doctor had convinced you, or rather, the fear of incompetency had convinced you.

You didn’t want to be seen as weak, as someone who couldn’t handle the pressure. So, you agreed to the leave, with the caveat that you’d be back as soon as it was over.

You packed your bags with the same precision you used for your missions, double-checking every item. The gym had become your sanctuary, a place where you could unleash your demons without consequence.

Now, you were being sent back to the real world, where those demons were born.

[andy-wm]

On a personal note...

This is a personal story, so feel free to scroll on past (if you're only here for the Jikookery I can respect that).

I'm posting this because it's connected to what Jimin and Jungkook (specifically Jimin) may or may not be doing with this album and their travel series "Are you sure", and by that I mean coming out publicly as queer and as lovers. If it sounds vague, it is, because I don't know what they're doing yet. I don't know how far Jimin is taking this or what direction he'll go. But if he is going to make his private life public, then my post is relevant even though my experience is a microscopic spec 0f what he will encounter.

I live in a conservative little town on the edge of a big city, we're almost the last stop on the metro train line. This place has 10 000 residents and a reputation for being a little on the rough side. It's not a bad place and the people are not bad people but they won't step aside if you pick a fight, lets put it that way.

There's one high school in our little town, and I am the school librarian. I also run the school's pride club and when I started it 5 years ago (that's when I joined this school) it kicked up a bit of a stink. The community had mixed feelings. I wasn't out as trans at that point, only as queer. The school principal supported the club but wanted me to keep it quiet (I didn't). She wanted me to be appeasing (I wasn't). And when we had challenges from homophobic students, she wanted me to 'let her handle it' ( I didn't).

I responded to bigotry with patience and kindness, modelling the behaviour I expected and having many many conversations about prejudice, the patriarchy, learned behaviour, fear of the unknown, and minding your own damn business....

When I came out as trans to the school community - changing my name and pronouns - I faced some real push back from both staff and students. Students were less openly hostile but sometimes the subtle attempts at bullying are worse. My line manager was really difficult about it. I was a hot topic of conversation. It wasn't a good time. But I stuck with it, partly because I couldn't go back and partly because the Pride Club students were so empowered by what I was doing. They thought I was really brave. I couldn't let them down.

It was a tough time for me personally. Every day was a struggle as I navigated my wavering sense of identity and tried to be true to myself. Most of my family and friends were okay with it but some were not. Some flipped back and forth, some thought I had lost my mind. I had to let a few people go from my life, including one of my closest friends. I've lost a few more since then. I've cried more in the past few years than I have in my whole life and I am pretty tough, so you gotta know - it was a lot.

Fast forward to now. The pride club is well established, homophobia still exists but it's less overt and it's no longer ignored, and we have staff who are active allies. It's definitely a success. Our students to have a safe place where they can be themselves, and slow change is coming to the culture of the school.

It has come at a personal cost though. Not a HUGE personal cost but enough for it to matter. I am recognised and known around town because, well, most people in small communities know each other. But more so because of my role in the school, and because I am the only out and vocal queer person on school staff (yes, there are other LGBTQIA+ staff but they keep it quiet, and I don't really blame them).

At school i still have to correct people on my pronouns on a daily basis, and occasionally a student will throw a comment my way but it's not often these days. I have to come out to all the new staff pretty much as soon as I first meet them otherwise it's awkward. It's just an everyday thing. It's not a big deal but it's tiring, and it's something cis/straight people don't ever have to think about.

What is tough, though, is sniping from the community at large every now and again. I have been targeted on community socials and I've had had some pretty brusque service from local shop owners and service personnel in local businesses. Sometimes I see kids from school at the shops and they point me out to their parents. I pretend it's because they're happy to see me (what the fuck else am I going to do - hide in the apple crate?) They may say a friendly hello... or they may following me through the aisles of the supermarket trying to menace me - yes, that has happened - I just have to wait and see.

I do have allies in the community too - like the gorgeous pharmacist who always gets my name and pronouns right and compliments me (on whatever he can think of) every time I collect my meds. There's a stern woman in the hardware store who makes a point of loudly correcting herself when she uses the wrong pronouns (often). I appreciate this, I really do, but honestly it would be great if she could be a little quieter.

I am not a celebrity by any means, just a small town school librarian. But wherever I go in my small town - to the doctor, the supermarket, the park, or the gym - there's a chance I'll encounter someone who knows my face. Sometimes that makes me nervous.

The point of this long and boring post is to give people who may not know what it's like, a bit of insight into the experience of a regular, everyday person who lives in a conservative place and who is both recognisable and queer. It can be exhausting, and from time to time I struggle with mental health issues. So I have no doubt that for people who are really well known, it would be much, much worse. They would be the subject of public debate on news sites and TV. They'd be tossed into arguments by politicians on both sides of the divide. They'd encounter hostility in person too, and that's really frightening.

So please remember that if the celebs you admire choose NOT to come out, it's because they've weighed up their choices and that's the safest option for them. Support them where they're at, so they can live their best life under the circumstances.

If they do come out, they'll probably need even more support. Please love them, defend them, celebrate them, and validate them. They need you more than you know.

And above all else, be a good human.

PS, no need to comment here, this is purely a PSA <3

[megalony]

Resemblance- Part 4

This is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for such amazing feedback.

I hope you're ready for this!

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @senjoritanana @kniselle @eleventhdoctorsangel

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to prize it out of you?"

Evan hung his head down and tensed his shoulders, leaning his weight forward onto his arms while his hands planted down on the counter. He could feel his spine clicking into place while his weight shifted from foot to foot.

He never knew how to stand or how to act when Maddie gave him that look. Her big sister look. Her elder sibling look. The look that had changed into a knowing, motherly look since she'd had Jee. It was an expression that made Evan feel like he was sixteen years old all over again, making mistakes and only trying to hide them from his sister.

Her opinion and her views of Evan were the only ones he cared about. He had grown up disappointing his parents, just being in the room seemed to disappoint them. But he strived to make Maddie proud, she was the only person in his family that he cared about.

And right now, when he could feel her gaze burning into him and he knew those brows were raised and her lips were pursed, he felt like melting on the spot. He felt like babbling and spilling everything out to her to see if she could make some sense out of all this.

"Buck, what's going on?" Maddie slid a steaming cup of coffee across the counter and curled her hands around her own signature cup which had Mrs Han painted across the side in italics. A wedding present from a friend.

This would be their third cup of coffee each, but who was counting?

Coffee was the best Maddie could do when she knew her brother was due on shift in an hour. Otherwise she would have cracked open the bottle of red wine in the fridge and poured away until her little brother finally spilled what was on his mind.

He and (Y/n) had been here for almost two hours now and Maddie could tell something wasn't right. And she didn't want to ask (Y/n) what was wrong and risk making her nervous when this was the first time (Y/n) had come over to her house.

They had all had a chat, enjoyed spilling some gossip together and Maddie got to know (Y/n) better. But now, with (Y/n) being stolen away into the living room with Jee, Maddie finally had a chance to ask Evan what was going on.

"Chim said you and Eddie had a fight at the station last week, like, a proper fight. That's never happened before, it must be serious."

Maddie wished her husband had known more. She wished Chimney had all the gossip so she didn't have to ask Evan what was going on. She would of had time to think and come up with ways to help and some solutions if Chimney had delved into things at work. But she understood that he didn't want to be nosey and he couldn't outright ask Bobby what was going on when the Captain made it clear that this was a personal issue, not for everyone to know.

But Maddie had never known Evan and Eddie to fight in all the years she had seen them be friends. They were like brothers, they had the kind of relationship she envisioned Evan would of had with Daniel if he were still alive today.

And Evan never started fights. When he was in college he was a sweet, joyous, outgoing soul who never put a foot wrong. If someone started a fight with Evan, he would barely throw a punch in retaliation and now he was older, Evan didn't start fights. If someone started on him, he might throw a punch in defence but that was as far as he would go.

For Evan to start a fight with Eddie and tackle him, especially when they were both at work, it meant this was serious and Maddie wasn't sure she would like the answers she was about to find out.

"I don't know what to do, Maddie. I came home last week, and he… he had (Y/n) up against the wall, shouting at her and calling her Shannon."

It was as if the light faded out of Maddie's eyes when she realised what Evan was trying to tell her. Reading between the lines made her soul leave her body and sent her coffee cup trembling between her fingers. She didn't have Eddie down as the type who would boarder on delusional or someone who would go to the point of frightening those closest to him.

"And he's done this twice. He kissed her at the wedding, he's got it in his head that she's some sort of second chance. He can't control himself around her and I don't know what to do."

"My wedding?" Her lower lip jutted out and a shaky breath parted through her lips before she took a deep breath. Her hands pressed into the counter, mirroring Evan's previous stance that changed so he could rub the back of his neck.

Evan had gone a week with limited contact with Eddie. The most they had spoken was a few exchanging texts for when Evan could pick Chris up and then drop him back off since they had made cakes for his bake sale three days ago. And Chris could tell something was wrong when Evan didn't come inside and have tea with him and Eddie when he dropped him back home. He knew something was up when Evan left without exchanging so much as a hello with Eddie.

He couldn't. He couldn't look at him without hearing Eddie's voice in the back of his head, snidely remarking how he wanted to be with (Y/n). How he thought she was his second chance. How selfish he knew he was for thinking Evan was robbing him of something special.

It was all Evan could see, think and hear when he was around Eddie and he was glad they were on opposite shifts. Limited contact was the best thing for now, but they couldn't carry on like this. They couldn't avoid each other forever. They couldn't hang out with the team and give one another the cold shoulder. They couldn't do this and risk upsetting Chris. Something had to change.

"Has he spoken to anyone? Those therapy sessions he was having, they might help… he's not over Shannon if he's looking for someone to replace her."

"I don't know if he will."

"Then don't give him a choice."

Something similar to a chuckle escaped Evan's lips and he looked across at his sister with confusion pooling in his eyes.

He took a long gulp of his coffee, delighting in the way it fizzled on his tongue and made his throat feel raw and tingled down to his stomach. How could he not give Eddie a choice? What was he supposed to do, drive him to mandated therapy? Get Bobby to demand he go to meetings or he couldn't return to work? Evan doubted blackmailing Eddie into therapy sessions would make him open up and go in there with an open mind.

"What? Just walk him in there and tell him he has to talk?"

"Look, you're important to Eddie, just like he means a lot to you, right? So if he truly cares about you like I think he does, then tell him. Tell him the only way to work this out is to talk it through, tell him he needs to work this out and then you can sit down with him and see where you go from here."

She knew the boys were close, they were like blood brothers. So if Eddie truly wanted to save this friendship and try to continue working together, he would agree. He would talk to someone and try to help himself and let everyone else help him. And then they could talk this through and try to patch things over and move forward.

Eddie clearly needed help and they had to get him that help, whether he thought he needed it or not.

"You think he will?" Evan tried not to let hope flood his voice, he could fill himself with false hope right now. He'd done that enough in his life and it gave him nothing but disappointment. But he was desperate for things to work out and pick up from this. He didn't want things to get to a lower point than this.

He straightened up, clicking his spine into place and tilting his head from side to side to crack his neck. But he paused when he felt Maddie's hand curve around his. Her fingers were soft and warm and made him think back to the times when she would sit with him in the dead of night after he'd had a nightmare.

The way she smoothed her hand up and down the back of his hand and wrist made Evan feel lightheaded and warm and cared for and understood, all the things he only ever felt when he talked to his sister about his problems.

"I think you're just as important to him as his family, and he won't want to lose you." Her smile brought a sense of calm washing over Evan and he curved his wrist so he could give her hand a squeeze. "How's (Y/n) doing with all of this? I can't imagine it being easy."

"She's okay, she… I think she thought I'd be angry at her. As if,"

Evan took the chance to move away from the kitchen counter and peek around the doorway into the living room.

Joy and a whole mountain of love soared through Evan's chest when he looked over at his partner. Seeing (Y/n) knelt down in front of the coffee table with a flurry of plastic cakes and teapots and fake cups and saucers surrounding her and Jee happily at her side, the sight did something to Evan.

The sight made his heart skip a beat and had heat rising to his cheeks and flooding his skin until he was turning red.

He loved how sweetly (Y/n) smiled at Jee and nodded, holding out her cup for a pretend refill. And he found himself grinning as he watched her decline another saucer with a plastic cupcake on top, saying she'd already had four cakes and was about to explode.

It was a sight that cemented things for Evan. It was something that made all the nerves and adrenaline in his stomach die down and replace them with gratitude and a homely feeling.

That was what he wanted. (Y/n) was what he wanted. Any future Evan tried to imagine, he couldn't think of one without (Y/n) being a part of it.

When he thought of coming home from work in a few years time, he could see (Y/n) at home with him. When he thought about moving out of the loft and getting a proper home like Maddie had done here with Chimney, Evan saw (Y/n) by his side. When he saw himself with kids, this was the sight that came to the front of his mind. (Y/n) with kids. With their kids.

He loved how Jee attached herself to (Y/n). He loved how easily (Y/n) fell into place with Maddie as if they had known each other their whole lives. He loved how the rest of the team intergrated (Y/n) as one of them and took to her like she was always supposed to be part of their group, their team, their family.

"Can you blame her? She must have been worried… I know when I thought I caused problems between Chim and Hen it scared me. She wouldn't want to ruin your bond with Eddie."

Maddie could sympathise and see things through (Y/n)'s perspective. She could see how (Y/n) would think Evan might get angry at her, think she was trying things on with Eddie or deliberately causing problems because of how close they were. She could see that (Y/n) would panic about causing waves within the team since they were such a close-knit family.

A soft, nurturing smile fluttered across Evan's lips while his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink which made him look bashful, especially with the way he looked at his sister through his lashes.

He took another daring look over his shoulder, making sure (Y/n) was still occupied trying to handle the amount of pretend refills his niece was handing over. His lips rolled together as he sighed and looked down at his feet while his hand rummaged around in his jacket pocket, trying to find something he needed his sister's opinion on.

"What do you think?"

Maddie took another sip of her coffee before she put her mug down and held her hands out with an inquizitive smile. She rose a brow and waited for her brother to hand over whatever was in his pocket. But the moment the square velvet red box was in her hands, her heart jumped up into her throat and her jaw slacked.

"Buck… oh my god." All she could do was dart her eyes between the ring and her brother, staring up at him with anticipation and love and hope and a little confusion held within her chocolate eyes. "You're sure?"

There was no malice or hidden insult or trepadation in her voice. All Evan could hear was love and giddiness that made her tone rise an octave and had her voice breaking off at the end.

She had never known her brother become this hopeful and serious about a relationship before. What he had with Abbi was somewhat serious, but there had been a lot of problems with them. His relationship with Taylor had been very one-sided with Evan putting all the effort and love into it only to get tiny reflections and gratitude in return. And she had been selfish which fed off of Evan's giving nature.

He had had serious relationships before, but none of those had ever gotten to the point where he would ever think about marriage.

What he had with (Y/n) was different.

When Evan looked at her he could see a future, he could see something he desperately wanted and something that made his heart soar and had his nerves tingling and fizzling like he was electrified. He was hopeful when he looked at (Y/n). He was in love when he looked at her and everything about her resonated with Evan's soul.

He nodded, trying not to bite down too harshly on his lip and tear through the skin. "You think she'll like it?"

"She's gonna love it." The excitement coursing through Maddie had her jumping from foot to foot. She was itching to go through there now and get her brother down on his knee just so she could witness the proposal and share this excitement.

They were both finally going to be happy. After everything the siblings had been through, this was their time. Maddie had her husband and her daughter and Evan had found someone he wanted to commit to. Things were finally looking up for them.

"When are you gonna ask?" Maddie's hands were shaking when she carefully closed the lid and gave the box back to Evan.

"I would of asked last week, Eddie kind of dampened the mood. But I can't wait much longer, I might try after work tomorrow." Evan's shoulders slacked and he held his arms out when Maddie moved over to wrap him up in a hug. She pressed her cheek against his sternum and gave a tight squeeze, making a quiet 'aww' sound that had Evan laughing.

He would of asked (Y/n) at some point last week, if everything with Eddie hadn't blown up in their faces. After that, he couldn't find the right time without feeling like a shadow was looming overhead.

But he had to ask soon, he couldn't wait another day. He wanted to ask and see if (Y/n) would say yes to spending the rest of her life with him. He wanted to see the ring on her finger and tell people and show her off and say that she was going to be his wife.

He had technically already asked her at the bachelor party anyway, declaring he was going to marry her at some point. And (Y/n) hadn't objected to the idea, so he was confident the answer would be yes.

He just needed to find the right time to ask.

***

A quiet grumble broke free from (Y/n)'s lips and she nuzzled her nose into the pillow, inhaling Evan's scent as her mind tried to go back to sleep but her ears picked up on something.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long. Whenever Evan had been on a night shift recently, (Y/n) ended up staying up late. She didn't like sleeping alone. She didn't like being in the apartment on her own, it just didn't feel right without Evan here.

Her head groggily lifted up from the pillow and she kept her eyes closed, focusing all her efforts to tune her ears into what noise had woken her up. She knew she heard something. The sound of a lock faintly clicking and hinges squeaking made (Y/n)'s heart add in an extra two beats to her rhythm and the adrenaline that pooled in her stomach made (Y/n) push up into a sitting position.

It was the front door.

Why was Evan coming home already?

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly midnight. Evan was on the seven til seven shift, he wasn't supposed to be finished until seven in the morning and with getting showered and getting ready, he shouldn't be home until almost eight. He had been at work for almost five hours, why was he coming home so early?

Was he feeling sick? Had he had some type of accident? Surely not, or else he would be at the hospital rather than coming home like this. Maybe he had ended up switching shifts. Perhaps something had gone wrong and he physically couldn't carry on with his shift.

Every thought possible rattled through (Y/n)'s brain as she rubbed her eyes, feeling her body waken up immediately with worry for her partner.

Her legs swung over the side of the bed and her feet sank down into the fluffy rug that felt like walking on candy floss.

Her fingers tangled in her hair and she padded across the room, jumping onto her tiptoes when the cold laminate floor sent shockwaves through her soles and up her legs. She squinted when the lights downstairs turned on, basking the apartment in a warm orange glow that resonated up the stairs.

(Y/n) reached out for the bannister but she didn't take one step when she looked down.

Something horrid plunged into her heart and stole her breath and for a dreaded moment, her balance shifted and she almost toppled forwards. It took all her strength to regain her balance and shuffle backwards, away from the top of the stairs. All while she couldn't catch one breath and her lungs started to ache and burn from lack of oxygen.

Eddie.

Her hand pressed to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound while her other hand clenched the bannister until her nails were creating indents in the wood and she was about to get splinters beneath her skin.

What was he doing here?

Why was he here at midnight? Why did he just let himself in instead of knocking?

Both (Y/n) and Evan clearly forgot Eddie had a key. Evan gave him a key years ago because of how frequently he came round for a drink or a catch up and when he was dropping Chris off. Not to mention for emergencies. With everything Evan had gone through, he felt afraid that some mornings he might not wake up or he might slip back into a coma. He wanted Eddie and Bobby and Maddie to have keys in case he wasn't well or something happened to him and they needed to come round and check on him.

And of course Evan hadn't asked Eddie for the key back. They were still trying to patch their friendship back together and asking for the key would be like terminating their friendship or implying Evan didn't trust Eddie. But he didn't trust Eddie, at least not around (Y/n).

Oh God. Did Eddie know Evan was at work tonight?

Is that why he's here, because he knows I'll be alone?

Every part of (Y/n) began to shake as she shuffled backwards, trying not to pick her feet up in case she made echoes on the laminate. But it didn't really matter whether Eddie knew she was awake or not. She wasn't going to be able to sneak past him to get out the flat and it wasn't like she could hide up here in the bedroom or climb down from the balcony. She was effectively trapped.

Her hands reached out for the bed and she used it as leverage to lower herself down onto the rug. She shakily took her phone from the bedside table and hunkered down, curling over until her chest was pressed down against her thighs.

She clicked on Evan's contact and held the phone to her ear, suddenly realising how loud the dialling tone sounded. Would Eddie be able to hear it from downstairs? Would he know she knew he was here? Would he get angry?

Evan didn't answer.

(Y/n) didn't expect him to, he was on a night shift and she knew they got a lot of call outs during the night. He was probably in the truck or in the middle of a call with his phone back in the truck or back in his locker at the station.

Who else could she call? She didn't have Maddie's number, and she wasn't sure if Maddie would wake up this late in the night if her phone rang, some people didn't. She didn't know if Maddie would even come down here if (Y/n) asked her for help. She didn't want to be a burden and have the first time she called Maddie be because she needed to ask for assistance.

Bobby.

As if a lightbulb had gone off above her head, (Y/n) turned to Evan's bedside drawer. She shakily dragged it open and tried to be as quiet as she could when she pushed a few things to the sides. Moving past the medication boxes, earbuds, the old notepad for scribbling important details down. The five different coloured pens he had in there which he was always messing about with. She ignored the ball of blue tac and the few important documents he had folded in the back of his drawer.

Her fingers latched around the thin black leather book that she remembered Evan showing her a while back.

His address book.

It didn't matter that Evan had a very good memory for certain things such as movie quotes, exact conversations from five years ago, random facts people told him in passing. People's middle names or the name of their pets. Evan was terrible with addresses.

He could visualise and remember exactly where someone's house was, but he never remembered street names or house numbers.

(Y/n) flicked to the letter B, already knowing Evan would have him under Bobby rather than Bobby Nash. And she could feel tears of relief pooling in her eyes when she noticed in the dim lighting that Evan had indeed written Bobby's number down beneath his address.

Just in case his phone got lost or crashed; it didn't matter that Evan knew Bobby's number by heart. Emergency situations were always catered for.

(Y/n) tapped the number into her phone, jumping against the bed when she heard Eddie's footsteps thudding about downstairs. She had no idea what he was doing and she didn't want to know either. She just wanted him to stay down there and not dare to come up here.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the mattress and curved her left arm around her waist to try and keep herself calm and slow down her breathing. She could feel her tears soaking into the mattress and she sniffed, trying to control herself but it was becoming hard.

She felt stupid. She felt like a child for panicking this much and not knowing what to do, but Eddie frightened her.

Evan told her not to talk to Eddie again. He told her to stay away from Eddie until Evan had sorted everything out and made sure Eddie was okay and under control. Being alone with him wasn't an option and Bobby said she was a trigger for Eddie and therefore shouldn't be around him in case she set him off.

But this wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked him round or even let him in, he had done this all on his own.

"Hello?" Bobby's confused voice sent waves of relief rushing through (Y/n) and a tidal wave of tears soaked into the bed when she realised he'd answered. She had clearly woken him up. He was still on the A shift and that meant he was mostly on days. Bobby was the captain and therefore he needed to be at the station during the day to sort shifts and do the occasional meeting as well as being on the floor with the team.

She felt bad for waking him up, but at least he was at home and he had answered and she knew he would help her.

"Bobby? I-it's (Y/n)."

"Oh, hi. Are you okay, is something wrong?" He wasn't stupid. He could hear the panic in her voice and he knew anyone calling him at midnight had to be either drunk out of their heads or in need of help. "Eddie's here." Her voice shook despite how quietly she was whispering down the line.

"Where? At your apartment? Don't let him in I'll-"

"He has a key, he's already inside." She was sure she heard a few curse words muffle down the line. "What do I do?"

"If you can get to the bathroom, get in there and lock the door. Or if you can make it out the apartment, get out and find a neighbour. I'm getting dressed, I'll come down to you and I'll contact the station to get a message across to Buck. Don't worry, okay?"

Something about his voice and his words were soothing, like he was already in Captain mode and he knew exactly what to do and how to handle this situation. But (Y/n) couldn't help but worry. She knew what Eddie was like when he was round her and she knew what she had seen so far was only the tip of the iceberg.

(Y/n) wanted to say thank you. It was on the tip of her tongue until she heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. Worn heels stomping against the stairs.

Her eyes lifted towards the stairs in the corner of the room and her thumb ended the call before she could try and say any sort of thank you or another plea for help. She dropped her phone on the rug and pushed up until she could slump onto the bed to sit down.

She didn't want Eddie to know she had called for help; that might be something that would push him into a manic episode and (Y/n) couldn't afford that happening.

She scrunched the covers up in her fists and coiled inwards until she was as small as she could make herself. She squinted when Eddie flicked on the bedroom light but seeing him stood there at the top of the stairs made her lips pull down into a deep frown.

He looked disshevelled. Hair askew on his head in all directions. His shirt was glued to his frame and looked like he had spilt something down the front. He was leaning heavily on the wall like he couldn't hold himself up. His pupils were blown wide but his eyes were half-lidded like he was ready to drop down and sleep on the floor.

He was drunk.

The last time he had been drunk around (Y/n) he had started to get nasty. He had grabbed her at the bar and started getting frustrated when he talked to her. His alternate fantasy must come alive when he was drunk because she could see he wanted to smile when he looked at her.

Was he seeing Shannon when he looked at her? Did he feel like he had gone back in time and was back to the part of his past where he was somewhat happily married?

Did he even know what he was in Evan's flat right now, or did looking at (Y/n) make everything else blur? Could Eddie only focus on looking at her and thinking he was back with Shannon?

"You're awake."

His words stunned (Y/n) for a moment. She wasn't expecting that, although she wasn't too sure what she was expecting him to say if she was being honest with herself.

She thought maybe he would go straight into a rant, that he would shout at her for ruining things with Evan. Maybe he might scream at her for changing things at work, for making him an outcast and causing Evan to switch to the B shift. (Y/n) wondered if he would look at her and straight away start calling her Shannon and telling her how much he missed her and wanted her to come home. Maybe she anticipated him lunging at her and yelling.

A soft, if surprised, statement like that wasn't what she expected, but it calmed down her raging heart that was thumping against her ribs so hard and fast she felt like a race horse.

"I- I heard you come in… are you okay?" Her foot glided across the carpet and every time her toes brushed her phone, she envisioned it ringing.

She wasn't sure whether it was on silent or not. If it was on silent, Eddie wouldn't hear it if Bobby tried to call her back or if Evan called when Bobby finally managed to get hold of him. But if it wasn't and someone called her, Eddie would know. He would know straight away that she had tried to call for help because who would ring her at this time of night unless for an emergency or because she had called for help?

"Sure. I'm just fine when you're here, and I can't have you."

His name was on the tip of her tongue but (Y/n) quelled the thought to speak and settled for biting her tongue instead. He said before that he loved it when she said his name. Something in her voice had to remind him of Shannon and (Y/n) didn't want to do anything to lead Eddie on or antagonise him and if he liked hearing his name from her lips, then she couldn't speak it.

Sadness pooled in her eyes, but she couldn't find any response. What was she supposed to say to that? How could she show Eddie that she felt sorry for him, that she sympathised with him and somewhat understood his pain. She understood the longing he felt and how desperate he was to see and be with Shannon again.

If something happened to Evan and (Y/n) saw someone who looked so familiar, she had no idea how she would act or what she would say or do. She might attach to that person and want to be around them, want to linger in the memories they provoked.

"Buck told me to stay away. He won't even speak to me, you know, he only texts to ask about Chris. He said I can't go near you, and he told Bobby. He told Bobby I'm messed up, and now the Captain told me to stay away from you too. You're well guarded."

His tone was cynical and the smile on his face was sharp like broken glass, but it was the crease in his narrowed eyes that set (Y/n) on edge. All he needed was a knife or a gun in his hand and he would look every bit like a derranged criminal.

"They're just worried about you, they want to help-"

"How is Buck keeping you from me helping?" He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and took a step closer until he was stood at the end of the bed. It was as if he thought she was a memory and he didn't dare touch her, not yet. Not until he had reassured himself that she wasn't about to disappear.

"How should we help you?"

Her words stunned him. Mainly because Eddie didn't want their help, and partly because he didn't think he needed it. Well, some of him did. The sensible part of his brain knew he was in the wrong and that he had to clean up his act and stop this before he ruined every good relationship he had in his life.

He was straining his friendship with Bobby and the team. He was breaking every bond he had with Evan. He was going to emotionally damage his son by doing this. And he was ruining the friendship he could of had with (Y/n) by acting out against her.

But he didn't know how to stop, he didn't know how to ask for help or what kind of help he needed. All Eddie knew was the way (Y/n) made him feel when he was around her and it was a feeling that he wanted to savour. He wanted the nostalgia she brought him when he looked at her. He wanted the butterflies in his chest when he heard her voice, or the way he felt euphoric when he heard her say his name.

Most of all, Eddie wanted that spark in his chest and the fire in his blood when he kissed her. He wanted that light back in his system and that feeling of being alive, being in love and being whole again when he touched (Y/n).

Why was that so wrong?

"I just wanna be with you. Do you know how hard it is to look at you and not reach out for you? Do you know what it's like to miss you so fucking much and then have everyone tell me I can't ever touch or kiss you again? That you're not mine?"

Tears spilled down Eddie's face and the redness beneath his eyes suggested this wasn't the first time he had been crying tonight, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

She isn't mine. She loves Buck. He has her.

Eddie could think of nothing else but those three little variations and they weren't what he wanted to hear.

I'm coming home. I love you. I'm yours, Eddie.

Those were the varying combinations of three words that Eddie was desperate to hear. Those were the words Eddie heard in the dead of night. They were what he tried to listen out for whenever she spoke. That was what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Why wouldn't she just say them? Why couldn't she love him back? Why did she have to belong to Evan?

"I don't know what that's like, and I'm so sorry." (Y/n) bowed her head and looked down to her hands that unravelled from the cover so she could run her fingers up and down her thighs instead. "Why are you here?" She tried to keep her voice as gentle as possible so Eddie wouldn't think she was being snide or rude.

But if Eddie knew all of this, if he understood that (Y/n) wasn't his and that he shouldn't be here, then why turn up? Why come down here at all if he knew it was going to be the wrong decision? How was this going to help him if he felt guilty for being here and if he knew everyone was going to hate him for making this choice?

"Because if I can't have you, neither can he."

(Y/n) didn't see Eddie move until it was too late. Her eyes bulged in her sockets and her lips parted but nothing came out when Eddie's hand latched over her chin.

The force he had was unmatched and the strength in his arm alone was enough to slam (Y/n) down on her back on the bed. His fingertips dug uncomfortably into her cheeks and something dark crossed his eyes as he leaned over her.

His free hand pinned into the mattress just beside her shoulder and his knees pinned into her thighs with him sitting awkwardly on her lap to keep her from moving.

She didn't know what he was going to do. She didn't know how to get away from him. She didn't know when he suddenly stopped crying and switched to glaring daggers into her like she had done all of this on purpose. He was staring down at her like (Y/n) had teased and provoked him and tormented him. As if she had gone out of her way to look and act like Shannon, to dangle that fantasy in front of him only to then take it away from him before he had a proper taste of freedom.

His words seemed to contradict his actions. His words made (Y/n) fret that he was going to hurt her, knock her out, drag her from the apartment and hide her away so Evan could never find her again. It almost sounded like he had committed to the thought of never being able to call (Y/n) his. But pinning her to the bed suggested otherwise.

This suggested Eddie knew what he wanted and he was just going to take it whether anyone tried to stop him or not. It implied he would make (Y/n) his in any way he could to get her to see this through his eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Eddie was going to do, whether he had a well thought out plan or if he was just playing this second by second.

She was torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to cradle him because he was clearly fractured. He was tormented by the ghost of Shannon and all he wanted was for someone to love him and make him feel the way he did when he was with her. But (Y/n) couldn't do that and she couldn't comfort Eddie when he was acting like this.

She wiggled her head down until her chin was tucked up against her neck and when she loosened her jaw, she sank her teeth down into Eddie's hand. Right into the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. She chomped as hard as she could until she could feel the muscles tightening beneath her teeth and that horrid, squelching sound of his flesh shifting in her bite.

He didn't let go. He cried out, he growled, he tensed and shifted on top of her. But he didn't let her go. If anything, his fingers tightened against her cheeks and he slammed her head down. If they had been on the floor instead of the bed, he could of knocked her out, but all he did was make her go dizzy and cause an ache in the back of her neck.

The pain didn't seem to bother Eddie, but (Y/n) could see it in his face that it irritated him, like a distraction he couldn't afford to have. So he let her go. He reared his hand back until she released her bite and she tried to catch her breath back while he shook his hand out to get some feeling back.

But then his fingers were scrunching up in the collar of her shirt and he used it as leverage to lift her up off the bed.

He stayed kneeling on the edge of the bed, her thighs pinned between his knees. His groin and abdomen pressed against her and his arm pulled back to his chest causing (Y/n) to sit upright on the bed with her legs dangling over the side, between Eddie's legs.

She tilted her head back, gasping for breath while she sneered at him and tried to grab him by the shoulders to push him off.

"You think wearing his clothes means anything? It doesn't change who you are to me. You're my wife; I won't let him take you."

Eddie's eyes slithered up and down her frame, taking in her attire for the first time since he came into the apartment. She was wearing Evan's white lounge shirt which was now scrunched up in Eddie's fist and digging uncomfortably into the back of (Y/n)'s neck. And it was crumpled up around her thighs, exposing her underwear to Eddie's eagle eyes.

"Calling me Shannon doesn't mean she isn't dead."

She thought her words would make him cry. His eyes glossed over and for a moment, reality seemed to flicker across his pupils that constricted. But then they were black holes again, drawing her in and frightening her down to her core that shuddered beneath him.

His nails scratched her neck and caused a stinging sensation to claw along her cheek. She wasn't sure whether he tried to slap her or if he just caught her when he went to grab her differently.

But he didn't like it when she closed her eyes. She denied him the privellage of seeing her eyes, of seeing the hatred and the fear within them. Both his hands held her by her face, indenting into her cheeks that ached and burned and she could feel her inner cheeks cutting on her teeth from how harshly he held her.

But it was enough for (Y/n) to wriggle away from him. She shimmed down and pushed her weight forward, slamming her arms down into his elbows which gave his body a jolt. All of her weight pushed forward into Eddie's chest and she unbalanced him, falling into his chest as he toppled backwards onto the floor.

Her ankle rolled in the wrong direction and (Y/n) swallowed a cry as her whole leg twitched and throbbed as she clambered over Eddie to get away from him. But not before her hands scuffled along the rug and found her phone she had dropped earlier.

Her palms scraped the floor and she fell down on her knees, twice, when her left ankle gave out each time she tried to stand up.

"Shannon!"

"She's dead!" (Y/n) snapped back as she reached the stairs and took a leap of faith.

She shuffled. Her hands clung to the bannister and she let herself slide down each step, bumping from one to another and she just knew she would be littered in bruises all up and down her bum and the back of her thighs come morning. But it didn't matter, her ankle had given out and until it worked again, she had to get away from Eddie somehow. She had to get into the bathroom because it was the only place where she could lock the door and keep Eddie at bay.

Leaving the apartment wasn't a good idea when she didn't know how long Bobby would be and she didn't know any of the neighbours. None of them would wake up after midnight and give her sanctuary and going out into the street barefoot in nothing but her underwear and Evan's shirt that barely covered her thighs wouldn't do her any good either.

She could feel her phone scraping along the bannister, pinned between the wood and her palm and when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she tried to stand.

"You're not leaving me again." Eddie's voice was cold and brutal and so close that the hairs on the back of (Y/n)'s neck stood up on end.

She let out a scream when his hand latched into her hair and he pushed all of his weight onto her back until she was falling forward. Her arms slammed into the floor and her forehead bashed into the laminate, jolting her body while her knees hit the floor with a bang. But it was Eddie's weight on her back that hurt the most.

It was the feeling of his chest on her back and his face smothered into her neck. It was his hand scrunched up in her hair and his other hand on her shoulder and his leg pinned between her thighs with his hips crushing down on her lower back and bum that hurt the most. All of Eddie was crushing her against the floor and she could barely breathe at all.

It was only after seven agonising seconds that (Y/n) finally took in a strangled breath that wheezed past her lips. She could feel her chapped lips becoming wet as she gasped and spat and tried not to choke as she struggled for air and tears welled up in her eyes.

But once her senses came back to her, she realised her phone was no longer in her hand.

It had been flung across the floor a few feet in front of them.

And now it was ringing.

Eddie's chest heaved against her back and his hand moved from her hair to curve around the back of her neck instead. He stared down at her, nostrils flaring, eyes rabid and breaths as deep as hers while her ringtone flooded the apartment. And (Y/n) knew exactly who was calling.

She knew because her ringtone was always the same, except for one person. She had personalised Evan's ringtone so that whenever he called her, her phone played Crazy In Love. Bobby must have gotten hold of him, or Evan had gotten a moment to check his phone and noticed a missed call. Or maybe Bobby got hold of the station and they had finally told Evan what was going on.

"Who did you call? What did you do?!"

(Y/n) didn't answer; she couldn't answer. She was still gasping for air and her ribs felt like they were breaking beneath Eddie's weight. The floor felt horrid as it crushed her chest and pinned against her abdomen and Eddie's every curve moulded over her own and kept her melted in place against him.

She tried to move. She tried to crawl, to slither out of his arms, to scratch her nails against the floor and drag herself forward towards her phone. She needed to answer, she needed to scream, to gasp or cry or make some sort of derranged noise so Evan knew she was in trouble.

All of her strength was pushed into her right arm and she stretched as much as she could, wiggling against Eddie until her finger brushed her phone and she dragged the white button across the screen.

"Ev-" Something horrid wheezed past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand clamped over her mouth and his left arm pinned around her neck.

She couldn't breathe anymore. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk or wriggle or hit out or shift in any direction.

Her body went limp and her chest seized up while her blurry eyes rolled to the back of her head. But they didn't stay like that for long. It felt like she had barely been in a choke hold for one second before she realised she was suddenly being moved.

Her arms flopped across the floor, trying in vain to drag herself along the floor and move but it was too hard. It was too much effort to try and get away from Eddie when all of her energy was dwindling like she was an engine with a leak. And trying to move forwards only strained the arm around her neck and cut off her breathing. She couldn't last any longer without a proper breath, so she gave in.

(Y/n) let Eddie man handle her and the back of her head bashed into his shoulder, causing her body to jerk in spasms while her eyes rolled in circles, trying to gain some sense of focus again.

(Y/n) couldn't find the ability to breathe or move and she couldn't focus on what was happening. She couldn't even hear Evan's voice as he called something through the phone which sounded distant like Evan was held underwater.

Her stomach tensed and her chest seized up again when she felt Eddie's arm tighten around her neck and his right arm bound around her waist.

He had her back pinned into his chest and her body slumped between his thighs. They were both sitting up on the floor but (Y/n) felt like she was about to slide down and lay out on the floor. Her body was being held up by the arm around her throat that was close to choking her.

Both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep and she dug her nails into his arm, pulling as much as she could to try and get him to relent and let her go.

The feeling of Eddie's face smothering against the side of her head made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and pull into a frown.

She could feel tears dripping down her cheeks when he started to take ragged, gasping breaths against her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, crushing into her back with every inhale. And she knew he was crying again, just like she was.

It was only then that (Y/n) realised she could hear Evan.

"(Y/n) please! What the Hell is going on?"

Hearing Evan calling out her name made (Y/n) cry harder. She hated when he used her name because of how she had become used to hearing him call her any other pet name that he could. He only used her name when something serious was going on and she hated it.

Her heels scraped against the floor in a vain attempt to keep herself pushed up and to try and lift her head higher to take a big, deep breath. She sniffed and gasped, inhaling a deep breath as Eddie seemed to hold her tighter and curled around her like he was trying to morph them into one person.

"Eddie, p-please," (Y/n) didn't know what she was trying to say or what she was begging for, but she knew her words fell upon deaf ears.

He started to kiss her temple while his right arm pinned into her stomach until he was crushing her and making her feel sick. And she let out a small, frail sob when Eddie started to rock them back and forth. It was almost as if he was cradling her, as if he was trying to comfort her when he was the one in need of help and comfort.

She stopped digging her nails into his arm and instead tried to shakily rub her hands up and down his arms. Maybe comforting him would make him stop. Maybe trying to feign understanding and calming herself down would in turn make Eddie calm down. Then she could slip away from him and get across into the bathroom.

But his hold was so tight that (Y/n) doubted she would get away from him or get very far before he launched on her again. Being pinned in his arms like this felt better than being crushed on the floor with him on top of her. This felt safer. Eddie couldn't hurt her or try and do anything drastic while they were like this. He may be hurting her and giving her bruises, but it was better than him pinning her to the floor or the bed and trying to rip her clothes off or scream at her for leaving him.

She heard Evan's pleas call out through the air so loud he sounded like he was on loud speaker. "Eddie what are you doing? Don't do this. Think of me, think of Chris, please. Whatever the fuck you're doing, stop!"

(Y/n) gasped, drawing in a strangled breath when Eddie's arm loosened from her stomach and he reached across for her phone. His chest pinned down into her back and he creased over her, pushing her forward so he could end the call and toss the phone into the kitchen.

"I can't- I don't know how to love anyone else. I love you. I love you."

Those three little words played on repeat until (Y/n) was sobbing and Eddie was crying them into her neck.

She felt his head tilt down so his face was smothered in her neck and he started dragging his lips across her skin. Leaving wet, open-mouthed touches in his wake that had (Y/n) shaking and her fingers leaving indents in Eddie's arm while his right arm went back to imbedding in her stomach.

He'd never said that to her before.

Eddie had never said he loved her. He never got far into the delusion of being with Shannon when he was around (Y/n). Whenever he was with her, he seemed to get angry. He showed her how wrecked he was because she had left him, he pleaded with her to come home. He told her how much he and Chris missed her and how much he wanted her and needed her. But he always seemed angry with her.

Shannon had died before Eddie could clear the air with her or tell her how much she meant to him or tell her that he wanted to make things work between them if they could. She died with so many things left unsaid and now Eddie was saying them all to (Y/n) in the vain fantasy that Shannon was really back in his life.

That fantasy seemed to be crumbling around him. Eddie could hear the timer ticking away in the back of his head. He could feel the walls closing in. He could feel Evan and Bobby getting closer to taking (Y/n) away from him for good and he could feel his world crumbling into tiny fragmented pieces.

And he was doing whatever he could to keep (Y/n) with him, to keep this thought of Shannon alive.

If Bobby or Evan didn't get here soon, (Y/n) dreaded to think what Eddie might do. She found herself sobbing as he crushed her harder in his embrace until she couldn't breathe and he spoke against her neck, his words chilling her down to her core.

"Buck can't have you. He can't take you from me."

[reveluving]

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 

It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 

“How big?” 

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 

He just had to play it safe. 

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick &lt;3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[starsofjewels]

GREETINGS!! was wondering if you feel up for it if you could do a tyrion x autistic reader? idk how you could make autism fit into the GoT world but I always feel like an outsider even in the real world and i feel tyrion would be one of the few who'd actually be accepting and not judgemental

A Kitty Cat in the Lion’s Den

Tyrion Lannister x Autistic! Lannister! Reader

(Feat.) Tywin Lannister x Autistic! Lannister! Reader

CONTENT: Autistic meltdown, small! Mention of blood/ injury, self-deprecation, the Lannisters are their own warning

Word count: 1.5k (lil pookie bear)

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Hi, beautiful. I absolutely loved this request !! This was only semi triggering to write, and I hope you like it. <3

I’ve just started back at college, so the drip might be dry (not that it wasn’t to begin with). I may or may not have published this during a Free Study period…

This is proof I don’t just write Gregor Clegane fics. But I do love big squishy man and his cock.

I think I probably need to make a masterlist..

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(A teeny PSA before we begin- I, unsurprisingly given the shit I upload on here, am autistic. I’ve struggled with it my whole life, and this is an interpretation of my own experience with autism. ASD is, as the name suggests, a spectrum, so this can’t really be a generalised fic. I put my own personal experiences with my condition into this, so if you’re also autistic/ otherwise neurodivergent and this doesn’t fit your vibes, that’s why. I can’t really explain it any other way, so yeah, here you go.)

Your entire life has served as a reminder that, whether by your own fault or some cruel will of the Gods, you are not wanted. You are the outsider, the youngest Lannister, not beautiful enough to marry off young and, decidedly, not male. Lord Tywin is consistently busy with his duties as the Hand, Tyrion hides with his wines and his whores, and Jaime has his own place in the Red Keep. You are forced to sit with your sister and her ladies, who talk too loudly and prattle on about nonsense.

Cersei, you have long established, does not like you. You aren’t really sure anyone likes you, in the traditional sense, but you know that your sister only keeps you around for fear of Tywin’s wrath. There is something in the back of your mind that remembers a younger, softer Cersei putting you in her lap, of brushing your hair and putting it in gold bows. But, that was before. Before you could walk or talk properly, before you spouted random facts on unasked for topics, before she realised you were different.

Everyone knows you are different, and no one can explain why. Not even you. All they know is to stay away from you, all they know is they’ll never understand how your little mind works.

So, you sit as nicely as you can on the outside of Cersei’s circle of ladies, and you try to focus on your sewing. You don’t like sewing, but it’s what all of the noblewomen do to pass the time, and all you want is to fit in.

“Your sewing is coming on well, my lady.”

The septa tilts your sewing slightly to look at it just a little more. It’s supposed to be a gift for your father, and it is not good. You see every uneven stitch, all of the oddities and bumps in your work that make it so you can hardly look at it. You hate it, and you hate that you can’t even sew properly.

“The stitching is all wrong…”

She takes your hands as you try, again, to pick out your newest stitch, a learned behaviour with you. Despite being with you near your whole life, since you weaned off of your nurse, you aren’t sure the septa completely understands your fascination of perfection,

“It is fine,” Her voice is soft, but you can feel her disappointment, “you are still learning, my lady, some mistakes are natural. You do not need to pull it apart- again.”

You jump when Cersei’s ladies giggle at some joke you haven’t heard, the woman beside you takes your hand, and you are reminded why you keep her so close. At least, in some way, she understands what you like and what upsets you.

Tea is served for the ladies. They give you what Cersei likes, what her ladies eat, green and red things that squish and squelch in your mouth and taste like you’ve eaten rags. And the queen sees you push them around your plate, and scoffs.

“At least try it, sister,” She sips from her wine. You feel each of her noblewomen shift, in turn, to look at you, “a Lannister lady can’t just survive off of the children’s food you eat, we can’t all eat nothing but cakes and plain bread all day.”

But you don’t, and you starve. Tywin will get you something later, you’re sure of it, as he sighs, and gently suggests you’ll need a more varied diet if you’re to marry a good husband.

The women’s giggles practically turn to cackles, which do not stop for what feels like hours. You wish they’d stop, or that you could understand what they find so utterly hilarious, so at least you may join their hysteria. You’ve put your sewing down in your lap, and you fiddle with your hair. The sept doesn’t like that, she guides your work back into your hands.

“Your father doesn’t like it if you mess your hair, sweet girl, you know that,” Her hands find your hair, carefully untangling the knots you’ve made, “try a few more stitches.”

And then, inevitably, it happens. You prick your finger on your needle, and a soft ruby comes from your noble, incomprehensible skin.

Throwing your project to the ground, you rush off as fast as your legs can manage. No one comes to find you.

You are long practised with the subtle art of trying not to cry. You pace back and forth, away from anything and everything, your hands in your hair as you do. The tears in your eyes hurt, they make you tired, and only add to your humiliation. You can do nothing right, why can you do nothing right?

You think of your sister, of perfect, beautiful, poised Cersei- She has a gaggle of women to do her bidding she is loved, and desires and you doubt she paces the halls trying not to cry. She is the lion queen, and you are her kitty-cat of a sister.

And then, you hear your name called. Followed by hurried footsteps toward you. Tyrion takes your hands in his, but you cannot even look at him.

“Has someone upset you? Cersei?”

All you can do is give him whines in response. You feel a sob bubbling in your throat, and you cannot give him the satisfaction of seeing you weak.

“Tell me.”

So you look down, you watch his eyes change from confusion, to the pity you are so used to seeing. But he is your older brother, and you know he won’t run back to Cersei, like Jaime would.

It comes in one, huge splurge, as tears fall against your skin and ruin the pretty powders your maids spent so long putting on you this morning,

“I- Was making a gift for Father-” You gasp, “And they didn’t give me anything to eat, and- and the sewing was terrible, but Septa is lying and saying it’s good and-” Another. “And I cut myself!”

His arms wrap around you, and he puts his head against you. Though much smaller than you, it offers greater comfort than he knows it does. All you can do is sob. You feel like a child.

No words are spoken as he takes you down to the kitchens, and puts you at the staff table. You are given something you eat with relish, and get a plate of pudding for your effort. There is no need for you to have any medical attention for your injury, but he has it wrapped anyway. A psychological comfort, if nothing else.

Tyrion helps you into bed, letting you reach out for the rag dolls your sister claims you’re too old for. You want your father, you want him to go and tell off Cersei, but you have your brother instead, and he at least semi-understands what it’s like to be different.

“I’m sorry,” you turn and look up at him,

“Sorry?”

He stands, walking to your window to look out at the courtyard below.

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

Tyrion is going somewhere with this, you know that much, but what, you are left wondering,

“I see… my brother.”

“Yes, you do. But the world? What does the world see? They see a drunk, lustful little man with a lion on his chest he doesn’t deserve.”

Something in you knows that it’s true. Tyrion is nothing more than his condition to the eyes of most in the Keep, most of the kingdom.

“You, you look like a Lannister. Your brokenness is inside. And I wish I could understand it.”

“It’s alright-” You sit up, clutching your doll, “It’s just… what it is. I have you, I have Father.”

Tyrion almost scoffs, he comes back from the window, passing you your water,

“Yes, you get Father, but that’s because you are utterly adorable.”

“I am adorable, aren’t I?”

“And humble, it appears.”

When Tyrion leaves, he kisses your forehead, and you know he is going to tell Father. You are the one thing they share something of a common interest in, and you suspect Tywin will make an appearance at some point. You’re right, of course.

It is Tywin’s heartbeat you listen to to calm yourself down for sleep. Your father strokes your hair, half-dozing himself. A soft, sweet moment that you are reminded Tyrion doesn’t have the privilege of.

Cersei is no longer allowed to be your main caretaker, you spend your afternoons out in the gardens, or sit entertaining yourself in Tywin’s solar. Tyrion takes you on walks, and there is something of a peaceful normality brought about.

You are still terribly disappointed in how Tywin’s gift turns out, it looks like a child made it, and when you become obviously quite upset over the manner, you have the Old Lion and his younger son to calm you. He loves it, he assures you, and Tyrion is so enamoured by it he requests his own. You know they are simply making you feel better, but you let it happen anyway.

And, perhaps, life is not so bad after all.

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: The Weight Of Words

Request: I wanted to request a harry hook x plus size reader (who's the daughter of Peter Pan and Wendy Darling) and harry kinda hates her at first.

Reader: Female

Word count: 1722

Average reading time: 6 min 15 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains themes of body image insecurity, bullying, and emotional intensity. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Y/n Pan walked through the halls of Auradon Prep, a place where heroes and villains once again live amongst each other, with her head held high despite the nagging insecurity gnawing at her. As the daughter of Peter Pan and Wendy Darling, she holds a great legacy. She was known for her caring and nurturing nature, always there to lend a helping hand or offer a kind word. People often say that she is just like her mother: brave, adventurous, and responsible, all while maintaining a magical sense of imagination.

But despite the warmth she radiated, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of self-doubt when it came to her body. She had a bit more weight to her then the average princess, and while she embraced many things about herself, her weight was a source of insecurity that sometimes overshadowed her confidence.

Harry Hook, the son of Captain Hook, was a constant thorn in her side. The hatred between their fathers seemed to have transferred to them, with Harry taking every opportunity to remind Y/n of her flaws. He saw her as nothing more than the daughter of his father's sworn enemy, and he used her insecurity to his advantage.

As Y/n walked through the crowded hallway, Harry stepped in front of her, blocking her path. His signature smirk was firmly in place.

"Watch where you're going, Pan." he sneered, his eyes raking over her form with a judgmental gleam. "Try not to take up the whole hallway next time."

Y/n's cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She bit back a retort, knowing it would only fuel his taunts. Instead, she pushed past him, keeping her focus on the end of the corridor where her friends awaited.

"Hey, Y/n! Over here!" called Jane, waving her over.

Y/n plastered on a smile as she joined her friends, but the sting of Harry's words lingered.

"Don't let him get to you," Evie said, placing a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "He's just trying to get under your skin."

"I know," Y/n sighed. "It's just... sometimes it's hard not to let it affect me."

"You’re beautiful just the way you are, Y/n," Carlos added. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Despite their reassurances, Y/n couldn't shake the hurt. Harry's words echoed in her mind, feeding the insecurities she tried so hard to suppress.

-----

Days turned into weeks, and Harry's cruel remarks continued. Each encounter chipped away at her confidence, but she refused to let him see how much it affected her.

One afternoon, as Y/n was heading to the library, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Harry, his expression unreadable.

"Pan." he called out, his tone less biting than usual.

She stopped but didn't turn around. "What do you want, Harry?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice softer. "It's important."

Y/n turned slowly, crossing her arms defensively. "What is it now? Another insult? Another way to make me feel like less?"

Harry's eyes softened, guilt flashing across his features. "No. I... I wanted to apologize."

Y/n blinked, taken aback. "Apologize? For what?"

"For everything," he said, stepping closer. "For the things I've said to you, the way I've treated you. I was wrong."

Her heart raced, a mix of confusion and anger bubbling up. "Why now, Harry? Why the sudden change of heart?"

Harry's gaze dropped to the ground for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "Because I see you now." he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I see how my words have hurt you, and I hate myself for it. You're not your father, Y/n, and you don't deserve the things I've said."

Y/n stared at him, searching his face for any hint of deception. "Why should I believe you?"

Harry's expression grew even more pained. "Because... I need to be honest about something else too." he said, taking a deep breath. "I was scared. Scared of what it meant to care about you, beyond just hating you because of your father. The truth is, it was easier for me to lash out and insult you than to confront how I felt."

Y/n’s brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I was terrified of falling for you." Harry confessed, his voice cracking slightly. "I hated that you were the daughter of my father's sworn enemy, but more than that, I was afraid of how much I cared for you. So I pushed you away, hid behind my insults, thinking it would make it easier to stay distant. But it only made things worse."

Y/n's eyes widened, her anger giving way to a deeper understanding. "So, you were scared of loving me?"

"Yes." Harry admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was scared of what it would mean, of how it would change everything. I’m sorry for letting that fear turn into cruelty."

Y/n looked at him, processing his confession. "And now?"

"Now," Harry said, taking another step closer, "I want to make things right. I want to show you that my feelings have changed, that I want to be honest with you, and that I’m willing to work on it whatever it takes."

Her heart pounded, caught between lingering hurt and slight hope. "How can I trust you?"

"Let me prove it." Harry said earnestly. "Give me a chance to show you that I’m not the same person I was before. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make up for how I’ve treated you."

Y/n's defenses began to soften, though her trust was still fragile. "We'll see, Harry. Actions speak louder than words."

Before she could say more, Harry gently took her hand, his touch surprisingly tender, his eyes so intense it nearly made her knees buckle. "I understand darling. And you're truly the most beautiful being I have ever had the honor of laying my eyes on, Y/n. Every single part of you."

Her breath hitched as he moved even closer, his hands resting on her shoulders before trailing down her arms and wrapping around her waist. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"I'm making it up to you." he murmured, his voice raspy and low, filled with emotion. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along her jawline, moving to her neck, and whispering against her skin. "I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused. You deserve so much better."

Y/n's heart raced, a mix of confusion and longing flooding her senses. She felt his hands caress her sides, his touch gentle and reverent. "Harry..."

He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes with a depth of feeling she hadn't seen before. "Let me show you how beautiful you are." he whispered, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss.

Completely overwhelmed, Y/n felt tears streaming down her face. She was defeated, all the pain and frustration boiling over. Harry kissed her tears away, his lips soft and comforting against her skin.

"Don't cry, darling." he whispered. "Please, let me make it right."

"I can't help it." she choked out between sobs. "It's all been too much. And... and I'm too heavy for you."

Harry's brow furrowed in concern as he wrapped his arms around her. "Y/n, darling. You're not too heavy."

"You don't understand," she whispered, her voice filled with distress. 

Before she could protest more, Harry scooped her up with ease, cradling her against his chest. "Harry, put me down." she insisted, her voice shaky and weak.

"Not a chance darling." he said firmly, holding her tighter. "I’m not putting you down, you’re coming with me."

Y/n clung to him, feeling the strength in his arms as he carried her through the hallways. Her mind racing, but she couldn't deny the sense of safety and comfort that his embrace provided.

-----

When they reached Harry’s dorm room, a quiet serenity settled over them, contrasting with the whirlwind of emotions that had been swirling inside Y/n. Harry gently guided her to sit on his bed, his touch so tender that it felt like he was handling something incredibly delicate. He took a seat beside her, his gaze unwavering as he reached for her hands.

The warmth of his fingers intertwined with hers was comforting, a subtle promise of support and affection. "Y/n, you’re perfect as you are." Harry said softly, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that spoke of both sincerity and regret. "Your weight doesn’t change that."

Y/n’s heart ached at his words. She looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or pity, but all she found was a deep, genuine concern and love. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "I don’t know if I can trust you, Harry."

Harry’s expression softened even further, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against her face. "Then let me earn it," he said, his voice a low, earnest plea. "Let me show you every day how much you mean to me."

Without waiting for a response, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was tender and full of longing. The kiss was slow, a deliberate dance of emotions, as if he was trying to convey all the words he couldn’t find into that single, intimate moment. The softness of his lips and the gentle pressure of his kiss sent shivers down Y/n’s spine, igniting a flicker of hope deep within her.

As their lips moved together, Y/n felt her defenses start to crumble. The warmth of Harry’s affection wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, and for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a future where she was truly cherished. She melted into the kiss, feeling the depth of his apology and the sincerity of his feelings.

When they finally broke apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers. The closeness of their faces, the shared breath, and the gentle smile on his lips were all part of a silent promise. Y/n could see the unwavering commitment in his eyes, and a small, hopeful smile tugged at her own lips. "You’re forgiven, Harry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you’ll have to keep proving it."

Harry’s eyes sparkled with a mix of affection and mischief. "Oh, I intend to, darling." he said, his tone playful yet earnest. "Every single day for the rest of my life."

From that moment on, Harry’s actions spoke volumes. He made it his mission to uplift Y/n’s spirits, to remind her of her worth with each passing day. Whether it was through small, thoughtful gestures or heartfelt conversations, he showed her, time and time again, how much she meant to him. His constant efforts to cherish and support her gradually helped Y/n rediscover her own self-worth, and with each day that passed, the foundation of their love grew stronger, rooted in trust, understanding, and an unwavering devotion.

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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

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Requested by: Anonymous

[dodorimo]

to even the odds

The sight of her half-naked body, already flushed with arousal, awakened a torrent of emotions within him. Desire was one of them. Bitterness was another.

His mouse stole his treasures, leaving bereft of pride and hope. A light at the end of the tunnel comes in the form of his incubus and the new body they have added to their repertoire. Raphael/Named F!Dark Urge, Explicit, 2.2k

Tags: possessive behaviour, yandere, vaginal sex, knotting, he's disgusting but would you have him in any other way?

AO3 link

The moment the words left his lips, he felt a sense of uneasy nagging at the pit of his stomach. Stage fright, he reassured himself, afflicts even the most seasoned of performers.

“Change into her.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

Haarlep did not ask for clarification. Didn’t need to. The incubus knew as well as he did who he was referring to.

A brief moment elapsed. Beyond the silken  curtains, the ever-present audience held their breath.

There was a sound like a soft whoosh of air as Haarlep assumed her form, the long mane of her white-blonde hair cascading down their back. The sight of her half-naked body, already flushed with arousal, awakened a torrent of emotions within him. Desire was one of them. Bitterness was another. If breaking into his house and sleeping with his incubus wasn’t enough, the mouse decided to rid him of his much prized possessions in one fell swoop.

The sheer gall of her. He remembered finding a piece of parchment with a lipstick mark on it where her contract should have been. Still warm.

He kept it as a souvenir. Pile up your evidence, as he likes to say.

Oh, he will love to pry her forgiveness from her rouge-tinged lips. Make her beg. All in due time. For now, he would stay his hand and enjoy whatever prizes were left so kindly to him.

“Lie down on the bed,” he said. “And don't even think about touching yourself until I say so.”

A poor consolation prize, he added, as he watched Haarlep crawl into his bed, a decidedly not mouse-like grin on their face. But it’ll have to do.

Once Haarlep settled among the pillows, he climbed on top of them and kneeled between their legs, his own clothes magicked away in his—shameful, he admitted—haste. His greedy eyes ran down her body: her outspread legs, the generous curve of her breast, her alluring pout. Every inch a love letter, excessive in its beauty.

There would be plenty of time to gawk later. This was an act of chastisement, and he would do well to remember.

Slowly, he took a finger down her collarbone towards the valley of her breasts, savoring the little goosebumps that rose on her flesh. The poor excuse for undergarments that still covered her body, no more than a few lace-trimmed straps, melted like sand in an hourglass.

Haarlep wasn’t used to having their lover taking their time in bed, much less tending to their needs. The anticipation was getting to them. They pressed their thighs together and bit their lip until blood welled to the surface, eyes closed.

“Fuck me, master. Make me your whore,” the incubus finally gave in, hoping the blatant vulgarity would be enough to stir his loins.

Raphael’s fingers found the bridge of his nose and pinched, as if he heard a particular keening sound in an otherwise flawless composition. “Sweeter, much sweeter,” he instructed. “Remember, there is release in the act of giving in, but there is also shame.”

A look of fleeting confusion flashed through the incubus' eyes. The meaning of his words was lost on them. Haarlep knew only the invigoration that accompanied the sins of the flesh, and hardly anything else. The act was as new to them as it was to him.

Regardless of their personal judgment, it wasn’t in the incubus’ nature to shy away from a challenge, especially when the promise was such a sweet reward. They closed their eyes, as if reliving the time spent together joined at the hips with his mouse.

Raphael straightened his back, jaw clenched. That the wretch would know her so intimately when he had to contend with a facsimile. The idea alone was grounds for the harshest of punishments, and yet, there he stood with his pants around his knees and flaccid cock in hand. What a pitiful sight he must be.

There was a hint of trepidation in their voice when Haarlep finally spoke. “Take me, please…” they said, spreading their legs—her legs—for his perusal. “I long for you. Raphael.”

It was the low whisper of his name that did it for him, that sent a primal shiver coursing through his body. He could almost picture his little mouse beneath him, pretty lips open and hair fanned out on his silk pillows.

“Better, somehow...” He sighed and wrapped a hand around his cock—almost fully erect now—and pumped once, then twice, to take the edge off. To his immeasurable disappointment, it did very little to help him with that.

Raphael turned his attention to her body instead, fingers reaching out to test her smoothness, giving special care to the nub above her nether lips. Pink and glistening with her honey. Just as he imagined.

He rubbed at her with just the tip of his fingers, more to satisfy his curiosity than to offer any real pleasure. The incubus’ eagerness was evident in the way they writhed and moaned softly under him, clutching at the pillows. When he pulled back, she bucked her hips toward him, chasing his touch.

“So impatient. One might think you were looking forward to this.” He laughed, dipping his wet fingers into his mouth. “Tell me, dearest, have you thought about me? Late at night?”

"I… you've been on my mind more than once."

Ah, an impressive show of restraint. He ought to give Haarlep his compliments later.

“Here, mouse. Be a dear then and return the favour.”

He placed her hand—so small and delicate even in comparison to his glamoured body—around his cock. It reminded him he could assume a different form; a larger, more imposing form. But it’s not his wish to scare her just yet.

The feeling of her hand, stroking his length, thumb shyly grazing the head, was nothing less than divine. Only to be rivaled, he wagered, by the feeling of her pretty lips around his cock. But that delight he would save for another day.

“To think I could have been spared the trouble of trying to woo you.” He guided her hand up and down his cock, harder now, letting his anger dictate his words as well as the cadence of his movements. “No, wooing is for ladies and well-behaved girls. Not backstabbing little whores.”

Her curious hand strayed lower, then lower still, seeking entrance between his thighs. He stopped its descent before it could reach its desired destination.

He was many things. Kind, forgiving, charitable. Patient he was not.

Her velvety walls are what he desired. He wrapped one hand around her thigh to keep her open, the other finding purchase on the pillow beside her head.

As soon as he bottomed inside her, he let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, capturing a nipple into his mouth, drawing soothing circles on her skin.

“She feels you, master. Your possession.”

“She better,” he gritted out.

“And she loves it,” the incubus continued as if he hadn’t heard him, all too pleased to relay her thoughts to him. “She loves it more than she’s willing to admit.”

Of course she does, you thrice-damned wretch, he wanted to say. Why else would she have fooled around with his doppelgänger for? If her claws were as sharp as rumoured, she would’ve made short work of a lesser fiend the likes of Haarlep. And he knew how much those bhaalspawn craved their fill of blood. No, the mouse had no need to get on her back for measly morsels of information: her choice was one born out of lust. The memory of phantom fingers still burned hot on his skin.

The little vixen. Bane of his life. She could’ve come to him. She should’ve come to him.

“That’s a pity.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, each word punctuated with a hard thrust. “She isn’t supposed to.”

Oh, how exquisitely her moans resounded within the gilded walls of his boudoir! The last shiny piece of an already perfect image.

He’s not immune to her siren call—he leaned his head, tasting her lips and tongue, welcoming the coppery tang of blood as it entered his mouth.

The task distracted him enough that he didn’t realize he shed his human skin until later, as the fiendish side of him took over.

There she lay, small, helpless, her body jolting with each motion of his hips, breasts swaying. She may take the little vampling to bed in the morning, but she would open her legs for him every night. 

“Who owns you?” He struggled to get the words out, taking deep breaths to rein himself in.

“You, you godsdamned bastard. I belong to you…”

Raphael hummed in clear approval. His incubus knew he didn’t desire a meek caricature of his beloved mouse. Subdued, yes. Penitent, most definitely. But never meek.

He wasn’t going to last long. Not when she clenched around him like a fist, her lithe legs wrapped around his waist, pulling her to him. The finishing touch, then, before the round of applause.

The sudden swelling of his cock inside her had her squirming and arching her back off the bed. Rarely did he get in the mood to knot a partner, too much of a bother for him to consider. In his experience, he found the troubles far outweighed the benefits, but for her, he would make an exception.

Haarlep’s little mewls and pained gasps weren't all just for show. They never had him in this manner before.

“What is the matter, dear?” He relished in her pain, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s just more of me to love.”

Her walls grew tighter. Her body welcomed him.

“I’m going to spill my seed.” She couldn’t hear him but she could feel him. “Right inside you.” Those last words were whispered in her ear, as if confessing a deed of love.

She chose that moment to look at him, pretty blue eyes lined with tears and, for an instant, he saw himself reflected in those crystalline depths: strong, awe-inspiring, kingly. It was enough to tear his control to shreds, filling her to the brink with his molten essence.

“Eirin,” he faltered, peppering kisses along the column of her neck. “Beautiful. Mine.”

As he rode his high, the incubus feasted on his pleasure at will. Recklessly so. Drinking more than they were used to. He felt his strength seeping out of him just as another jolt ripped through his body.

Raphael let them be. He would not dare break the spell with the sound of his voice. Not now. Not when he felt so connected to her.

He held her close as another wave of his release swept over him. He felt her then. Clenching around him impossibly tight, head thrown back in pleasure. He knew at that moment that it wasn’t the incubus’ release he was witnessing, but rather the mouse’s, as it manifested through the bond between them. 

Unexpected, but intriguing all the same.

He flicked his finger against her pearl to aid her in her fall. Never let it be said that he was nothing but a diligent lover.

As she came down from her peak, Raphael gently stroked her stomach to help her take every last drop of him. Divine blood may run in her veins but it made no difference. Her fragile human physiology was not made to bear his passion. If she were to be his new plaything, and she will be, additional measures would have to be put into place. Not to mention, his heat would render any human contraceptive obsolete.

There's an allure to the idea, he can’t deny. He could easily leave her with child and she would be none the wiser.

Eirin, Eirin, Eirin.

Her father would place a tiara of rubies upon her head, a princess in all but name. Raphael liked to think she deserved something more.

He basked in her scent, ignoring the hint of sulphur, rubbing his cheek against hers like a lovesick paramour. He would build the greatest of cages for her soul. An opulent, lavish cage that would dwarf even his best work. Failure was out of the question.

She would come to accept him, in time. Come to love him, even. Hope fared just fine.

Love.

When it came to the matters of the heart, he was a fierce admirer. But the very notion was dangerous. Like taking a wrong turn in a dark alleyway. Too many eyes and many ears, behind every door. Nothing good could come out of this affair, not for him and definitely not for her. His kind did not tolerate weaknesses, whatever form it took. And what need did he have for her love? All he needed was her submission. He required nothing else. Wished for nothing else.

But must the curtains fall in the end, and he could feel himself beginning to soften inside her.

It always ended the same way. The euphoria, the fervour and the feeling of walking among clouds. Gone too soon.

He pulled back an inch, just enough to balance his weight on his hand. A mistake, he quickly realized, as he was greeted with the sight of her cunt dripping with his seed. His incubus pleaded for him still, deep in the throes of their own passion.

So easily stirred, the appetites of men.

The play needed not end now, after all.

The raptured crowd begged for an encore. And he was ever so eager to abide.

[factsilike]

I've seen so many takes about this so here's mine;

Stella is an abuser, a horrible wife and an equally horrible mother. That's all she is. She is not complex, she is not meant to be sympathised with, her role in the story is to be an antagonist to the main characters, because that's the way she was written. And it's not bad writing, like people claim it is.

If you don't like that and want that to change, well that's literally what fanfiction is for! Write your own fix it, your own version of her character where she's morally grey or complex or whatever, but don't jump to saying that she is badly written or that Vizie is a bad writer for no reason. Because all that seems to show is that she is not written the way you wanted her to be written, or a story you wanted to see. Write your own, then!

Because you can say that she was forced into this marriage as well or that she was cheated on so she has a right to feel aggrieved about that, and you would be right. Sure, as a child she could be sullen and miserable about this marriage and no one could blame her, but as an adult you become responsible for your actions, and you cannot continue to be bitter and take out your anger out on your partner for no reason. Because that quickly turns into abuse. Her poisonous nature had no base in the early stages of their relationship. Neither are we shown any care from her for her only daughter.

And from what we saw of her childhood picture, she seemed to be deeply unpleasant as a child anyway, so it's probably in her nature. I'd give her a pass as a child, but she didn't shed that behaviour as she grew up, or work on it to become better, so.

And of course Stolas was forced into this marriage as well, yet he, as is shown multiple times in the show, tries to make it work, was never actively malicious to her as she is and endured her abuse silently for so long, at least a decade or two. Honestly I think he does not get enough credit for that, because that takes some strength and resilience. And how utterly depressed he is all the time, because that is the result of those twenty long miserable years. He also clearly adores his daughter, who cannot for some reason see that which really frustrates me, but that is another post.

And as for the cheating-

If you watch carefully you'll notice that Stella wasn't really bothered by Stolas bedding someone else, so much as that someone else was an imp. She was more angered by that fact, that her husband had an affair with an imp, the lowest of the low classes in hell, because clearly she was classist, just like Stolas' father. She felt that it was a huge blow to her ego and reputation that her husband would rather be with an imp than her. So I would say that again, her anger was not really justified on that end.

Sometimes antagonists are meant to be just that. We are not given any reasons to sympathise with them, so we seem to make up reasons, because of course that horrible character must have good reason to be that horrible, right? It makes no sense otherwise!

This post is a result of me being really tired of people going with surface level analysis about villains and antagonists, like "she's Complex!!" or "He's soooo misunderstood and I'm the only one who truly understands him 😤" and "he's sooo tragic 🥺" like please. Look a little deeper and past what you want to see, I beg you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 22

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: So Tuesday was a mess.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Dr. Kemp leans forward, elbows on his knees as he watches you. Patient, intent, he listens without distraction to every word you say. His attention is almost eerie but only because you’re not used to it. He hangs off of every word.

“I don’t hate Amber,” you frown and hug your legs, only then realising how small you’ve made yourself in the chair, “I love her… I just don’t know if she ever loved me.”

He nods and sits up, dragging his fingers down his chin as he props an elbow on the armrest. He presses his finger against his mouth as he hums thoughtfully. He drops his hand and smiles.

“Are you worried about if she loves you or… are you afraid that you don’t deserve her love? Or anyone’s?” He prompts gently.

You bit down on your tongue. You lower your chin as you think. Your heart plummets deep as your skin tingles hotly.

“Both,” you admit.

“It’s like I said, sweetheart, you have to love yourself first. Then you will see how others can love you,” he drapes one leg over the other, “but we should unpack your relationship with your sister a bit further. We can’t do all that today, but we can start.”

You nod and cup your chin. You make yourself sit up and look at him. You push your feet over the edge and straighten your back.

“Codependency. It’s very toxic. Amber has her flaws, as we all do. What you’ve pointed out about her isn’t out of the question but I don’t know her, I can’t diagnose her. But I can help you draw boundaries and make sense of things,” he explains, “you feel that you were a burden, that you were entirely helpless without her. Did you ever consider she felt the same way? That she attached herself to you because otherwise, she felt useless.”

You look above him and examine the curtain. That’s easier than looking him in the face. You put your hands in your lap and wring them tightly. No, you never thought of it that way because that can’t be true.

“Why… why would she feel like that? I give her nothing. I’m…”

“Now, let’s stop right there,” he raises a thick finger, “what did I say about talking about yourself? Be kind.”

“Yes, Doctor,” you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, you owe yourself one.”

You bow your head guiltily. The more you talk to him, the more aware you are of all your bad habits. Isn’t this supposed to help you feel better? Not feel worse?

“It’s work, it hurts and then it feels good,” he says, “but the important thing is that you keep going. You keep the progress up, even if some days we don’t take a step forward, he have to keep looking ahead.” He lowers his hand over the end of the armrest, “I think this week you should write about Amber, try to get your thoughts out. Along with your other homework which is…”

You blink at him and give a dumb look. He smiles, “be nice to you. I want you to write down everything you do all week to that end. Baths, moisturising, reading a book, sketching something, anything that makes you happy.”

“Okay,” you grip your knees, slowly trailing your hands up to tug down the pleats of your skirt. You’re not used to it, you almost forgot you were wearing the thing, “I’ll try.”

“You’ll do great,” he encourages, “you already have done so much.”

🕊️

You're exhausted after the session. Almost despondent on the drive to Andy's as everything Steve said swirls in your mind. A thousand thoughts to add to your already overcrowded head. 

"Honey," Andy's voice cuts through your trance, "are you okay?"

"Uh, I'm sorry," you say, stunned to find the car parked in front of his house, his eyes boring into you with concern, "yeah, I'm fine."

"Oh, you haven't said a word," he slides the keys free of the ignition, "and you weren't responding."

"No, no, it's... I was thinking."

"Ah," he nods, hesitating to get out of the car as he hovers his hand against the door, "about... did Steve say something?"

"Um, just about stuff," you reply evasively, "nothing big."

"Well, you now I'm always here for you, right? That you can talk to me too?"

You nod and fake a smile. He's nice and all but you can't tell him everything. You can't even tell Steve everything you put in your journal. Somethings are meant just for you.

"I know," you murmur, "is it alright if I lay down for a bit. I'm really tired out."

"Sure you can, dove," he reaches over you caress the crease of your skirt, "just for a little. You don't want to waste the day."

"I won't," you promise and pull the handle on your door.

You turn and hide your face from him. He's right but it still irks you. Sometimes he can be so bossy. You've done what he wants. You're doing the therapy, so why can't you have one day to just burrow away.

🕊️

You spend your time alone staring at the ceiling, all tied up with Andy’s suggestion. Don’t sleep the day away. Sigh, now you can’t even close your eyes. You’re too worried about doing just that.

After a few hours, you give up, hoping to find some solace in a cup of tea. You can pop out and assure Andy that you’re awake. Maybe you should work on the painting. He must be getting impatient for that as well.

You pull on a loose wooly cardigan, the one with the patch sewn into it, and hide your clingy t-shirt beneath it.  You come downstairs and pass the archway of the living room. The TV is lit up with the menu but Andy’s nowhere to be found.

You hear him. You go further down and peek into the kitchen. Something tinkles against porcelain as you watch him pour the contents of a bag into a bowl. There are several set out already, on a neat wooden tray with two glass bottles of soda.

“Um…” you step into the doorway. “I… was going to put the kettle on.”

He looks over at you and smiles. It’s only then you notice his clothing. A pair of thin plaid pajamas and a navy blue sweatshirt. He looks cozy. You’re not used to that. He’s all buttoned-up and tidy.

“Oh, sure,” he says, “I can get some tea out… but er,” he sets the bowl with the rest, “you kinda walked in on my surprise.”

“Surprise?” You wonder.

“Yeah, uh, I was thinking we could do a movie night. Your choice,” he presses closed the seal of the M&Ms bag and puts it at the back of the counter. “I got all these snacks and some soda if you like, but if you want tea instead–”

“Oh,” you bat your lashes.

“Oh?” He sounds nervous as he echoes your syllable.

“I… I wasn’t expecting this. I…” you fold your arms over your stomach, “you really… did all this?”

You tiptoe forward and raise your chin to see onto the tray. He grins proudly as you near and see the assortment of snacks; trail mix, chips, gummies, chocolate…

“Pretty simple but I figured maybe it would be fun.”

You suck your lower lip in and look up at him. His eyes are shining, almost hopeful. He did all this for you. He actually wants to spend time with you. He was even excited about it.

“It’s wonderful,” you say, “I hope… I hope you don’t think I’m ungrateful. Only surprised.”

“Of course, honey,” he slides the tray off the counter, “let me get this.”

He carries the spread across the kitchen and you trail him into the front room. You linger at the threshold as he sets down the snacks on the low coffee table. The room smells of raspberry. You hum at the scent and notice the candle already lit on the table. The lights are dim as the flame lends a flicker to the space.

“Like it?” Andy looks up at your audible sniff. 

“Smells nice,” you assure him.

“Well? You gonna just stand there or find something to watch?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you scurry over as he holds out the remote.

You sit on the couch and he drops down beside you. As you sit forward, he leans back, his arm stretched out behind you carelessly. You flick through the title cards of all the movies, intimidated by the endless selection.

“What kind of movies do you like?” You ask, almost embarrassed to choose one yourself.

“Whatever you like, dove,” he says.

It feels like the back of your shirt is moving, just along the bottom. The sensation is so light and you’re too nervous to look at Andy. You put your elbow on your knee and cup your chin. You guess it doesn’t really matter. You choose a title your recognise, not recalling what the movie is about.

“Don’t forget to dig in,” Andy sits up.

“Er, okay,” you put the remote down and take the bottle of soda. You read the label in the low light. It looks fancy. You try to twist the metal cap off but it threatens to cut into your hand. “Ow.”

“Here,” Andy reaches over, “let me.”

He grips the neck and pops off the metal lid with ease. He hands it back to you and takes his own. You thank him under your breath and hover your mouth over the top. You take a sip, the bubbles tickling your nose.

“Mmm,” you hide a cough at the carbonation, “ooh, pretzels.”

You reach for one of the twisted treats. He chuckles as the credits play and he takes a rippled chip. You bite into a pretzel and focus on the screen. He’s sitting so close. You glance over, there’s lots of couch free.

You nibble nervously as the opening scene plays. You focus on the dialogue, not quite picking up on everything. The movie’s much more serious than you expected. You finish a handful of the dry food and wash it down with soda before flopping back.

You squint at the screen and try to untangle the furling plot. It’s kind of boring. You hide a yawn in your cuff and keep your hand to your mouth. The scene shifts and suddenly a bed frame rocks, knocking against the wall as the camera pans down to reveal the two bodies writhing on the mattress.

Oh my! There’s always one of these scenes.

You fight not to close your eyes. You’re mortified as you stare wide-eyed, the room hotly silent except for the activity on screen. You can hear Andy’s breaths and your own. His foot moves as he adjusts his leg and you flinch, almost expecting him to move closer. No, why would he do that?

The scene finally ends. That was torture. Amber always lets you fast forward through those ones. You lean forward to hide your discomfort with another swig of soda. Andy clears his throat but doesn’t comment.

You munch on a mixture of sweet and salty, your stomach squirming. You’re just going to make yourself sick. You recline again, eyes burning and itchy as they threaten to close. No, you don’t want to upset Andy. You can’t fall asleep.

The man and woman argue in the street. You don’t know who would ever do that. Those sorts of conversations are better behind closed doors. You don’t really get relationships; they seem confusing and stressful.

You arch your back, stretching out a kink in your side and a snort from beside you makes you flinch. You don’t look over, not until it comes again. Andy’s shadow sits with its head back, nose to the ceiling as he snores. Oh no, he fell asleep first!

You’re almost happy it’s him. You were so afraid of doing so, fearing at how he might react. You just think it’s funny. This movie really is boring.

You giggle and call his name. He doesn’t react. You call again, “wake up.”

Still nothing. You chew your lip and raise a shaky hand. You touch his arm, poking him with two fingers. You repeat his name. He’s now waking up. You nudge him hard and he slips, first one way then back towards you. Before you can react, he folds over onto your lap.

His weight hits your legs and you squeak. You don’t think as you grab onto his shoulder and try to shake him. He’s so heavy! And big. The difference between you is obvious but even more in that moment. He is immovable, like a boulder crushing you.

“Andy,” you say, “please, wake up.”

He bends his arm and grips your knee, nestling in as he snorts deeper. He must be exhausted. He drove you all the way to therapy and then got all these snacks together for movie night. And now, he can’t even enjoy it. All for you. All his effort spoiled because of you.

You deflate and sink back into the cushions. You kick your legs and try to wiggle free of him. You can’t seem to get out. You surrender and look at the screen. You guess you’ll finish this darn movie.

[bethanydelleman]

The reason I go on about hating unwarranted jealousy so much is because it's one of the tropes that tricked me. I won't fall for "I can fix him with love" but jealousy is often given as a trait to male characters who are otherwise a green flag. They are unhealthily jealous and it's not treated as a bad thing.

I went into my first serious relationship expecting jealousy to be normal and kind of surprised when my partner was never jealous. But why would he have been? I never gave him a reason to be jealous or to not trust me. I hadn't been in a serious relationship before and I thought it was standard.

When I actually examined my life and what would make a movie character jealous, I realized it was stupid because my situation would have been the most jealousy inducing thing on TV. I lived in a five bedroom student house with 4 guys (Am I New Girl?). My best friend was a guy whom I lived with and cooked for. I worked with engineers and my team was all men except for me, my floor at work had 4 women on it out of at least 50 employees. I'm sure a TV version of me would have had my boyfriend showing up at work to "mark his territory" or some B.S. or wanting me to move out of my house. But as Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey points out:

"Would he thank you, either on his own account or Miss Thorpe’s, for supposing that her affection, or at least her good behaviour, is only to be secured by her seeing nothing of Captain Tilney? Is he safe only in solitude? Or is her heart constant to him only when unsolicited by anyone else?"

You are always going to have people around you that you might be able to date, that is life. The important part is how you act. It didn't matter who I lived with because I treated them like roommates. It didn't matter who I worked with because I treated them as colleagues. It didn't matter who my best friend was because he was a friend. What mattered is that I considered myself taken. That is the best assurance of faithfulness.

I don't mind Jealousy that Reveals Feelings in media, but I do mind things that border on or are straight up abusive, controlling behaviour that is portrayed as sexy. It can be a delicate balance, if what you need is for the female lead to realize the male lead likes her, then him showing some overt jealousy may be necessary. but it shouldn't go too far into control. I've seen it used well where a character overreacts jealously but then apologizes, so you get the passion and the healthy relationship. It makes sense to see jealousy if one side of a partnership isn't setting boundaries in public or seems to not mind that someone is hitting on them. But jealousy without cause is just toxic.

I hope I've explained myself well. This post is ignoring poly relationships because I know nothing about them.

[chayannesegg]

honestly I think it’s kinda interesting how phil’s relationships with wilbur, tallulah, chayanne & tubbo are all reflecting back into his view of sunny tbh. like he has such complex delicate interwoven dynamics with all of them and it all gets thrown onto sunny, this poor kid who he loves in theory, but in practice is a stranger to him. 

like wilbur left tallulah in phil’s care and didn’t come back. even now way after he was initially supposed to, wilbur hasn’t returned (that one day aside). and phil, who had already taken on a big commitment watching tallulah, has been left permanently with two eggs in his sole care. and even though he loves tallulah and wil, and won’t want them out of his life, this is a stress for him. it’s a big undertaking for anyone, to care for two kids alone, but especially since tallulah required a lot of changes in his life.

for better or worse, in many ways phil sees chayanne as an extension of himself. they’re similar in a lot of ways, and often on the same page, and it means phil often struggles to catch up when chayanne’s emotions aren’t on the same page as him. we’ve seen this week, phil having such a hard time understanding the depth and breadth of chayanne’s grief. when he catches on, he usually does a good job empathising and talking it through, but when he doesn’t, he really doesn’t and it can be hard to watch. 

the same is NOT true for tallulah. he has, through hard work and practice, learnt how to identify her emotions. he had to. she needed it. she would have been miserable otherwise. she desperately needed asked for the emotional care and birthdays and consideration that chayanne would never ask for. and he’s good at it—tracking her moods, knowing what upsets her & what she cares about in a way that doesn’t come as naturally with chayanne (or sunny or tubbo or anyone else really expect maybe wilbur). but that took A LOT of time and effort, months of work, and I do think he’s a bit wary of the idea of having to do that again, even when it comes to people he loves like chayanne (or god forbid tubbo).

now tubbo is not wil. tubbo is not phil's son. but he’s still not dissimilar to wil in phil’s mind. whatever the backstory is, phil introduces tubbo to tallulah as an old friend of him and wil’s. he makes tubbo his kids’ godfather. he calls tubbo his boy. he looks out for him. but past those first few weeks, their relationship doesn’t progress. they mean a lot to each other bc of their pasts, but they don’t put any work into upkeeping their relationship and phil in particular doesn’t reflect at all on what how that changes their dynamic. and it does change it—this is clear in purgatory, with phil having zero trust in tubbo to protect chayanne and tallulah, and after, with tubbo endlessly poking at phil’s sore spots trying to illicit a reaction he’ll never receive. 

it's also clear in the way phil has no understanding of what’s going on with tubbo. if he’s struggling to grasp chay’s emotions, he’s not even touching what’s going on in tubbo’s head. tubbo’s death makes no sense to him. it’s sudden. it’s random. it’s illogical. it’s stupid. he wasn’t joking about having two lives? he still took a death bet with richas? he’s not come back? he can’t come back? he’s left phil with distraught kids for no reason with no warning. he doesn’t see the erratic suicidal behaviour, the unending depression, the desperation to be loved. he doesn’t want to see it. he doesn’t want something to be wrong with tubbo, but he also doesn’t even know how to see what’s wrong. he’s annoyed he’s having to deal with it and he desperately desperately wants to believe this is all happening for no reason.

bc at the forefront of phil’s mind is still his love for tubbo. of course, phil would drop everything to help tubbo (if he could recognize something was wrong). of course, he would care for sunny as his own. of course, he would make the same sacrifices he’s made for wil. and he assumes he’ll have to. he thought that sunny would now be under his care. that he’d have to figure out the logistics of a third egg to care for. with wilbur, phil was the only person who could ever have taken care of tallulah. the only person he trusted, the only person who knew tallulah enough. now this isn’t true for tubbo. it’s a genuinely illogical assumption for phil to make: three eggs would be a genuine burden on him; they've never spoken about it; there’s a long list of people who would tubbo expects for sunny before; and he doesn’t even know sunny well enough to name these people for her as comfort.

but still in the moment, alone with tubbo’s eggs and dealing with everything he left behind, phil can only think that the exact same thing that happened before will happen: he alone will be left to care for another scared hurt kid of someone he loves.

and here we come to sunny. a kid whose dad he loves. a kid whose dad he doesn’t understand. a kid whose dad is suddenly gone like his son is gone. a kid who would need him like his daughter needs him. a kid who his son needs to protect. a kid he cares for. a kid he can’t afford to care for, a kid he wasn’t expecting to care for, a kid he doesn’t know how to care for, a kid he would care for if he needed to, a kid he doesn’t know why he’s been left to care for. a kid who is somehow a reflection of all these people he loves but not someone he knows at all.

idk i think this tension comes out in the a lot of the comments phil makes of and to sunny. he doesn't know them well enough to distinguish them from his relationships with other people. and as long as no one challenges him on that, we'll continue to hear these misplaced comments from him, that come across so insensitively, even as he tries his best to genuinely help them and their dad.