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#also a while ago they added collections
madegeeky · 4 months
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Epic Free Game (til 23 May 2024, 10am)
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You are the Inquisitor, tasked with saving the world from itself. But the road ahead is paved with difficult decisions. Thedas is a land of strife. Factions constantly war with each other even as a larger demonic invasion has begun. And you? You and your band of champions are the only ones who can hold it together. It’s your job to lead them...or fall.
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jedi-bird · 1 year
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My baby's well on his way to becoming a tree. Groot the avocado now reaches half way to my elbow (about ten inches) and has actual leaves. I'm thinking I'm going to have to repot him sooner than I thought.
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wheneverfeasible · 2 months
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Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.
Steve missed his polos.
He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.
Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.
(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)
It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.
Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.
Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.
But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.
Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.
Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.
Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.
“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”
Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.
“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.
“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”
Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.
Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.
“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”
Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.
Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”
Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.
There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.
In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.
Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.
Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.
Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.
Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.
“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.
When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.
“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”
“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.
Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.
“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.
Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.
Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.
Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.
“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.
Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.
“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”
“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.
“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.
Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?
“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”
Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?
“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.
Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.
Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.
Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.
“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”
Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:
“But I’m not happy, Steve.”
Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.
“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”
Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.
Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.
Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”
And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.
Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.
Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.
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Part 3
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tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump
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undreaming-fanfiction · 5 months
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The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.
What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.
It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.
That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.
Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."
The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.
They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?
And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"
They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.
They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.
It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.
Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.
To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.
Suddenly, a car horn.
Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"
Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"
There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"
Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"
And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".
Eddie wanted to punch him.
But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.
Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"
A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.
"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"
They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.
The man completely ignored them.
"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."
All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".
The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."
Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."
Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.
"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"
Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."
And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"
Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.
Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.
But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:
"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."
Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.
"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."
And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"
Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."
Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:
After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.
The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.
Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.
And finally...
The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".
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sahisan · 2 months
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✧ i am, we are
scaramouche x female reader | social media au.
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✦ synopsis: you are a solo artist, who first appeared a few years ago with your debut song “it's snowing like it's the end of the world.” which you wrote and composed while dealing with mental health problems, trying to convert them into your passion – music. in the end, the song became very popular, resulting in you swiftly gaining audience. yet, unbeknownst for your growing and waiting followers, you hadn't released any more music in the following weeks, months or years. you simply disappeared from every social platform. that was, until, finally, you showed signs of life on twitter, years later.
✦ started on: 19.07.24.
✦ status: ongoing.
✦ genre/tags: female reader. (mini) social media au. music artist au. not an idol au. this smau is japan based. fluff. scara is in a band and reader is a solo artist. reader had (has?) mental health issues. bullying mentioned. swearing. ooc ofc. protective/caring scara (he cares just so much (not overprotective tho)).
✦ notices: this smau doesn't have any set timeline for the events taking place in it, thus, it would be better for me to say that it's a collection of events, or a mini smau.
✦ author note: hi. i lied. the rainy tapestry smau wasn't in fact my last smau ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. so... i just thought that why would i have a smau rotting away in my gallery since august 2023 and i couldn't help myself, so here it is. it's very very very small, much smaller than you would expect lol. the timeline is awful, and the timestamps mostly don't matter, but if there's a timestamp then i was too lazy to edit it out. also, the name of the debut song (chap 1) is taken from a real song "it's snowing like it's the end of the world" by krobak, as well as the name of the smau is taken from a song "i am, we are" by guiano, and a lot of songs from the smau will be taken from real songs so yeah. im a music maniac pls don't ask.
✦ chapters.
1. comeback.
2. obviousness.
3. they're real?
4. couple goals.
5. sleep? no, music.
6. featuring... who?
7. love summarisation!
8. vacation.
9. "gave in to dreams." part 1.
9.5 "gave in to dreams." part 2.
10. inexperienced.
11. surprise.
12. stuck.
13. "interconnected".
14. 1%?
15. together.
16. aftermath.
17. again and longer.
18. live².
19. yummy.
20. "nightlife" or about old times.
21. winter, hokkaido and concepts.
22. will you?
✦ bonuses !
0.1. "gave in to dreams." tracklist + playlist.
0.2. "interconnected" tracklist + playlist.
0.3. "meltdown" ("interconnected" tour live album) + playlist.
0.4. "nigtlife" ep.
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✦ taglist: open. comment to be added or send me an ask.
— @alatusorrow @scarasbaby @raineyun @1nakitofan @ichcocat @heusalettle @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @state-of-grac3 @lily-lmao @ciellez @moonjellyfishie @scaraenthusiast1 @aruatsu @slu7 @sweatydazeshark-blog @shotovhs @kosumos @keiiqq @xionri @trulyylee @lalalaloveallmydays @nomnom21 @strangeauthorrascalfreak @starringyau @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @piercingheart @ririkamomobamiswife @anqelkoz @lxkeeeee @minhosprettywife @tikitsune @shutingstar @livelaughlovekuni @tired-jaz @naosh1 @usagiarchive @diemdurantia
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doromoni · 4 months
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Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4
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Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader
Genre : Fluff , Angst
Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.
Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?
Face claim : Sofia Wylie
A/N: Upon receiving many requests, here’s the continuation you lovely goblins 🤍. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)
Part 1.
You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.
It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.
“ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemma”
You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand — while the rest just played on their phones.
“What’s your dilemma muñequita? “ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.
“Not me Nando! My friend” you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.
“Mhm… yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ “ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando
“ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefje” Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.
“My friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her a—“
You once again didn’t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.
“Really? What happe-“The Aston Martin driver was invested
“LET THE GIRL SPEAK!”
“FERNANDO! “
“MATE, I SWEAR!”
They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver — prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender
“Ok. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friend…. This was 3 months ago by the way.” You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions
Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.
“So how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feel” the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.
“Oh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtime… uh she said that to me”
“Oh. That’s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving on” Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you
“How is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?” Lewis asked empathically
“ She’s great, and you’re right Nico. She slowly moving on.”
“So what’s the problem muñequita?”
“Well, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesn’t want to use him to get over the guy she likes” you explained to the 4 older drivers.
“WHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!” You didn’t expect Lewis’ outbursts — you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!
“It’s not me!!” You tried to bluff once more
“Y/N, we know it’s you” Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.
“OK FINE! It’s me” You utter as you gave up the act.
“So I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?” Valtteri asked, finally speaking.
“I’m very obvious aren’t I?” You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.
“Everyone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, “ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.
“Young lady, you haven’t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?” Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat — as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.
“Uhmm yes, it’s another driver… it’s Lando” You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.
“ He finally had the balls to ask huh?” Nando snickered
“What?? You also knew?!” You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.
“He did ask for my permission, sort of… it was just jumbled words that didn’t make sense then” Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.
“Lando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?” You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1
“Well, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesn’t help, sweetie.” Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.
“And what are you guys? My uncles?” You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.
“Well, should I say yes to Lando then?” You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out
“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Liefjie” Nico advised
“Yeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didn’t take it. So go have fun with Lando!” Fernando added, patting your hand.
You set your eyes on Valtteri — who only nodded his head with a smile.
“ You have our approval, and we’ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happy” Lewis said comfortingly
the.Y/N
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the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.
lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie 🥲
the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swear🤍
user1 Y/N please don’t dogshow the old man 😭
user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed
user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.
user4 The grid father and daughter pairing 🤍
landonorris Oh, You weren’t aware?
the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.
landonorris well glad to be of service
lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve
landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you 🫡
the.Y/N I hate and love you both 😮‍💨
User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??
mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?
the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery 😛
You continued to scroll past your feed and Kelly’s post appeared …
kellypiquet
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kellypiquet Happiest when with you 💙
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maxverstappen1 💙
You knew that you shouldn’t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldn’t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didn’t mean anything more to Max, all the memories you’ve made you’ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.
So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago
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Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.
One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.
the.Y/N
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the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food 🧡 10/10 would do again!
charles_leclerc you aren’t sneaky with that orange heart y/n
the.y/n 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ i’m watching you two.
the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise
User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone 🧐
the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee
User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill
User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.
User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship it🧡
User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who ever’s dating , I hope they could fight . 😤
liked by landonorris
User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!
User4 Lando????!!
You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.
Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heart— and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.
your story close friends
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charles_leclerc I made this couple 💪 It was all MEEEE.
landonorris 🧡🤍 someones getting bolder ey?
maxverstappen1 haha i’ve been replaced as your bestfriend 😂
landonorris story
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the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I won’t go down without a fight tho 🫡
charles_leclerc someones being braveee
carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?
The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didn’t keep it a secret — only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.
But that didn’t stop either of you from posting online.
Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didn’t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.
Kelly didn’t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.
Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missed… You.
The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didn’t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.
***
You are lounging in your Boyfriend’s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.
Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.
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Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.
“Hello, Y/N?” You heard Max’s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didn’t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.
Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriend’s shout in the distance.
“Oh, hi Max! What’s up?” You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.
“Where are you, right now? No one’s answering the front door” Max’s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?
“What? You’re in my house… uh why?” You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice
“It’s Wednesday, Movie night remember” You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you haven’t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.
“Max…. We haven’t had movie night in 3 months.” You replied carefully.
“Uhm, we can start again?” You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.
“I’m sorry Max, I’m at Lando’s right now… and I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nights”
“You’re at Lando’s? Y/N its already la-”
“Max I think it’s best if we kept our distance… yeah?” You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.
“What?! Why?” Max asked incredulously
“Max … you have a girlfriend! I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. And I don’t want Lando to have doubts … considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out … but in a group setting”
You didn’t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.
There was silence before Max had finally answered. “Oh… ok. I understand”
“Bye Max” At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.
The sound of the call ending echoed in Max’s head. The words you’ve said slowly dawned on him.
You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didn’t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasn’t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.
Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked … past tensed. You didn’t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.
He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track — he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.
landonorris
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landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger 🧡
tagged @the.Y/N
the.Y/N I love you more, stranger🧡
taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313
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hidden-poet · 2 months
Text
To have and to hold.
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1/1 Disclaimer: I have not watched Billy the kid. This story is based on an internet search, and a can do mentality. No cannon events or characters.
Warnings: Dark!billy-the-kid, non-con, light stalking, technical kidnapping, spit, mature, 18+ only, porn-with-little-plot, non-fandom based writing, Reader POV, reader not described but can be picked up, definitely not historically actuate but you are reading about getting railed by billy-the-kid so you can fuck off if you have a problem with it. Dead dove, do not eat.
A/N: I am so sorry that this was late, and also rushed. The tent scene felt like I was pulling teeth out. I had no idea where I was going with it.
unedited.
You always knew Billy had a crush on you.
You would catch him staring at you from across the market. He would try to talk to you every chance he got. Always trying to find out more about you. He was awkward mostly, unfitting to his position of power. Despite his eager attempts to gain an audience with you, his eyes often floated around the room, and the conversation topics only always grazed the surface. 
Nevertheless when you excused yourself from him, he always seemed disappointed but never stopped you. 
You never minded the attention. You were flattered by it. Before him, none of the town's men paid you too much mind. Your family wasn’t rich, and your face was too plain to gain attention away from the wealthy girls.
It helped too that it was handsome. Dangerous. Big broad shoulders and striking eyes. He was good at his craft. Some say the best.
He was good enough to keep the vultures away from town. For a price. Him and his gang kept the town safe for a portion of everyone’s profits. It was a small profit compared to what he could have asked but added up quickly amongst the business that bloomed with his protection.
The regulators became the law after running out the corrupt and keeping out wild gangs that would come and pillage.
There were worse men to be left in charge. Overall his reputation was good but money was to be paid, or houses were to be burned down.
He had men to look after. They had to be fed and housed with a few extra dollars in their pockets to halt their boisterous nature.
From the few times he did use a heavy hand, it left a strong reminder to the community that Billy’s word was law.
Even with his sheriff- like position, he was still considered an outlaw. Wanted in multiple counties. Wanted in yours not too long ago. Before he and his crew became the new law. So you had to keep your distance as much as you could, and avoid situations where you could be seen alone with him. The town mostly thought of you as a poor target for Billy but a few whispers about you were already causing damage to your reputation.
 Anyone connected to the regulators was treated differently. People wanted to distance themselves from the group that controlled the area. Anyone found being too friendly with the Regulators were ostracized. Your family couldn't afford to be outcast. The family business relied on steady connections and loyal customers. 
So you don’t mind the flirtatious talk in private or burning stares so long as it never proceeds from that.
To help this, you avoided him where you could but some days it felt as if he knew your schedule better than you did. 
You tried to switch it up by going to town a day earlier than you usually would, but fate had it that it was the same day as Billy’s collection. 
People hush as Billy and two of his men come into the convenience store. Some leave while others push themselves to the back of the store. You try and hide your face behind a series of hanging baskets as you watch the group walk confidently in. 
Billy greets the shopkeeper respectfully but the men he is with are arrogant and begin playing with the objects on display. You knew them as Jim Greathouse, and Tom O’Folliard. Both long-standing members of the Regulators. 
“Good evening, Mr O’Conoly. How are you today?”
“Good, Billy. Thank you”. The shopkeeper places a pouch of money on top of the counter for the men to take. 
Billy takes it first and places the small pouch in his pocket, thanking the man, and asking about his family. 
You try to make your escape moving from behind the baskets towards the door. Your face heated with just the thought of talking to Billy in a room full of people. In passing or at a public event was unavoidable, your townspeople knew that, but talking so friendly in a shop. It would bring your family shame if it came across too familiar.
But you were too hasty in your exit, your feet too hard against the floor. The shuffling caught his attention. Worried that he might be offended with your behavior, you pretend to look at the pears on display as if contemplating. 
The sound of his feet against the floorboards matched the beating of your heart. 
You pretend to look busy as you inspect the pears but could feel his searing stare as he approached you.
“Miss y/n”’ he took off his hat as he spoke as a sign of respect.
You nodded your head towards him as a sign of respect back, “Mr Bonney”.
“Billy. You can call me Billy”.
You nod back with a tight smile, keeping your eyes focused on the produce in front of you. To encourage Billy by calling him by familiar terms may give him the wrong impression.
"You look awful pretty today"
"You say that every day, Mr Bonney".
“I mean it every day”. He stands close to you, leaning his frame over yours. With his height it could have been intimidating but you knew he meant no harm.
“Did you need help shopping today? I could carry your basket for you” His fingers reach out to your basket but you tug it back against you. 
“Thank you, Mr Bonney, but I will not be buying anything today. I must get home. I suddenly don’t feel well”. 
“Wait” He reaches out and gently captures your arm to stop you from turning. It was the first time he had ever touched you. It felt like you had been zapped with electricity. 
You pull quickly out of his grasp and look around the shop. People were staring at the scene. One wrong step and it could be the end of your family's good name. You step further back from him, solidifying that he was the same person to them as he was to you. 
Billy holds his hands flat out in surrender, telling you he had no further plans of touching you. 
“I was just wondering if you planned to be at Maria's wedding?”. 
Maria was a friend of yours, of course you would be at her wedding. You wondered why he was asking, he knew this too. 
She was often with you when he approached. More than that her soon-to-be husband was friendly with Billy, and borrowed from the Regulators to finance a farm. 
Because of that, would he now be invited to the wedding? Would you be stuck avoiding him the whole night?
“I do,” you respond. If you lied and he was invited it would be an uncomfortable evening, but has telling the truth now placed you in a difficult spot?
“I was wondering if you might fancy a dance or two with me?”
A sudden loud clanking noise stole the spotlight from you. Jim had knocked a table of grain and spilled it over the floor along with the serving cup. Tom bellowed at his friend's mistake, kneeling over from laughter. 
“I am sorry, sir” Billy said to the shopkeeper, “He will pay for that”. 
Tom laughs louder, earning a shove from Jim. 
“Clean it up” Billy demands with a click of his fingers. Jim snatched a nearby rag and kneeled upon the floor under Billy’s stare. You make a quick exist while he is distracted but he follows you across the floor. 
The shopkeepers goes to help clean up the mess by bringing a broom but he is insulated by Jim as he nears. He throws the dirty rag at the man and questions why he didn’t bring a broom sooner. 
Billy’s attention is once again caught. He looks at you as you pass through the door but Jim continues to hurl insults at the undeserving shopkeep. Billy turns direction away from you to deal with the situation. 
“Hey. He’s paid his dues. Leave him alone” was the last thing you heard as you raced down the steps and to the path back home. 
You bash your hand against your forehead as you take the dirt path back to your home. It felt good to release some of the tension you felt. You had kept your composure through your walk through the back of town but could feel it bubbling under the surface. 
You should have left as soon as he entered the store. Now you were left in difficult position and only the feeling of dread around your friends wedding. 
How would you be able to avoid him for the entire time? Your only hope is that he will avoid you while you are with your family. 
You swing your empty basket. The trip to town and back was a 40 minute walk across a hard pebble road. You’d have to make it again tomorrow. 
You wondered if you would see him again. Billy normally placed himself in town to correspond with your schedule. 
Would he ask for a dance again or had you wounded his pride? What is the right answer? 
Yes would leave the town talking for weeks. Might even affect your fathers business.
 No might make you an enemy of the Regulators.  Which is the last thing you wanted to be. 
Perhaps if you took more chores, your sister would take your trip to town. 
She was stubborn though. Would want more than her fair share to swap tasks. You begin your negotiations in your head. 
Preparing for when you get home, when the sound of galloping horse upon the gravel approaches you. You move from the path to let the horseman pass, but it slows next to you. 
You look up at the rider, just making out his face under the sun. 
“Mr Bonney. What are you doing?”. 
You eye the area to see no one else. A blessing and a curse. 
He swings off his horse next to you.  
“You said you felt ill. I thought it was best to see you home alright”.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr Bonney”.
“Please, I insist. Riding would be faster than walking”.
“How would that look, sir? Sharing a horse?”.
“You could sit, and I’ll walk him along,” he suggests. His hat covers his face in shadows. It made it hard to see how he was processing your words.
“No, thank you, sir. The walk would be good for me. You go on now”. 
“I’ll walk alongside you”. He readies the reins of his horse between his hand for a walking pace.
“There’s really no need” you try. 
“There’s also nothing stopping me” he returns. 
It puts you back on one foot. He had never spoken to you like that before. Conversations about the weather, and upcoming community events were the only things really talked about. Sometimes he would ask after your family, and your health. But he found that broader, more unfamiliar topics worked best to elicit a conversation. 
You once helped him pick out a ripe watermelon when he asked you but he had never refused to stop bothering you. 
He walked beside you with his shoulder almost touching yours. You try to create distance by walking on the edge of the road. The rocks slip off the edge of the road under your feet. It makes for an uncomfortable walk, in which your ankle twists from the uneven ground. 
“It looks like rain” he looks up to the sky and its dark forming clouds, “I sure hope it clears before the wedding”. 
You tense as he brings up the wedding. It was surely a ploy to reintroduce his offer. In an attempt to discourage him, you only offer him a nod. 
One wrong step and you tumble of balance towards the surrounding dirt. 
“Careful” he hand latches on to your arm, pulling you back on the path. He moves himself and his horse over to the center of the road, pulling you along with his hold, “Don’t want you breaking an ankle before our dance”. 
You paused to consider a broken ankle as your way of escaping the dance, but it would immobilise you and Billy was sure to sit by your side the entire night. 
“I don’t dance, Mr Bonney. Two left feet I am afraid”. 
“We’ll get along fine”
“I might not be well enough to attend anyway”. 
“Oh” he looks ahead at the road, “That would be a shame”.
The horse kicks, impatient with her pace. 
“Settle” he commanded with a pat to its nose. 
“She’s used to going fast,” he tells you. 
“Please, Mr Bonney. I would hate to upset your horse”. You gesture for him to go forward and leave you.
He laughs at you. A sweet, airy laugh. 
“She'll be fine”.
You knew he meant you no harm. Even as you walk with him miles from anyone you felt no fear. So you walk in a comfortable silence next to him, your feet falling into step with his own. 
“If you need a break, let me know,” he spoke. 
You wondered why he said such a thing, forgetting your own lie. Quick in your recoup you bring your hand to your forehead 
“I will be fine. Home is not too far off”. 
He offers you a drink from his water flask which you decline. He had reached for it although from his saddle and you still him with a hand on his shoulder. It freezes him.
In return his eyes freeze you as he peers back over his shoulder.
You’re not sure why but an apology falls from your lips. 
“No” he assures, “No-I”. 
Neither of you were sure where to go.
He puts the flask back, turning to you with empty hands. 
You didn't notice that you had stopped walking until his horse kicked impatiently.
“I have to get home” you state. 
You pick up speed and return to the silence as you walk alongside him. 
Out of nowhere and somewhat timidly he reaches a hand out and places it on your shoulder. 
You jump back at the unexpected contact. Half expecting the hand to claw and punch you down to the ground. But it releases. 
He squints his eyes at you, surprised at your reaction. 
“You don’t think I would hurt you. Do you?”
You weren’t sure. He’s never been aggressive towards you. But stories of him being a dangerous man made their way around the community. 
“No, Mr Bonney”. 
With home so close it urges you to pick up the pace. He keeps it easily. 
“Is that why you didn’t want me to walk you home? Because you thought I would hurt you? Y/N, I would never”.
His hand once again goes up to touch you but you knock it away. 
“Mr Bonney, may I remind you that you are a stranger to me. That I am an unmarried woman, and you are an unmarried man. If some one were to mistake this situation, it could cause great damage to my reputation. My family's reputation, and livelihood".
He looked hurt that you had spoken to him like that. He stopped his fast pace beside you, and you took the opportunity to continue on without him. 
“Well we ain't strangers” he says as he nestles up beside you again. 
The walk turned silent again and it remained that way as you passed through the wide field to your home. 
Your small family home comes into view, and thought perhaps you could shake him. But he doesn’t leave you as you open your gate. 
“Thank you for seeing me home, Mr Bonney”, You try.
“Anytime Miss Y/N. Maybe one day you could invite me around, and we could have tea”.
You slam the gate shut between you. By allowing him to walk you home, does he think that you were opening up to him? 
“I am not sure my father would approve”. 
Billy’s eyes fall to the ground. He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 
“I see”, he states, “Well, rest up and I’ll see you at the wedding”.
You hear the talking of your mother and sister as they bring the washing back up to the house. If they came too close, he would try to start a friendly conversation with them. The risk of your father seeing, and shooting is already high. You needn’t add to it. 
“Goodbye, Mr Bonney”, you bid. 
You leave him at the gate, scoping your mother and sister into your arms and back into the house. 
The day of the wedding came. The whole house woke up in excitement but you felt more heavy than you should have. 
You tried to strike a balance between dressing nice and dressing too nice that Billy would think you dressed up for him.
Luckily, Miara relied on you the whole day to complete last minute things. While the others were gathered in front of the church, you were in the field gathering flowers for her bouquet. After that you helped her dress and do her hair. It all kept you away from the guests right up to the wedding. 
You dash inside the small church to find your seat before the bride was ready to come in. 
You saw not only him but the entire group of the Regulators sitting at that back corner out of the way. They were all clean and dressed nicely to Billy’s request. Their hats were taken off their heads in respect, and not one of them spoke. 
Billy’s body shifted as he saw you. It straightened, slightly turning towards you as you walked up the aisle to your family. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked. You couldn’t help looking back at him. 
You took your seat next to your sister in time for the band to start the wedding march. Maria slowly walks down the aisle, you try to keep you focused on her during all of the service but his stare burns a hole in the back of your head. 
All too soon the ceremony was over. Maria and her new husband stop to greet Billy as they pass. Maria’s husband gets a firm handshake as Billy says something to him and Maria is brought in for a kiss on the cheek. 
They acted like old friends despite their true relationship as debtor and debtee. 
Once the newlyweds make it to the door signaling for the rest to follow, you form a barrier of your family to keep you away from Billy as you pass him. The Regulators go to move out before the rest of the guests but Billy blocks the path by putting his hand on the front pew. Manners were important to Billy but less so to his group.
Billy and the Regulators walked behind the guests to the reception held in the field of the newlyweds' new farmstead. The couple had hired a live band, and borrowed tables and chairs.  Candles and a large fire was lit as it darkened. People danced and laughed amongst the Regulators, but you found yourself trying to keep busy to avoid any conversation. 
If you remained for too long in one spot, you could feel Billy closing in. Only the request from your friend on her big day made you pause. She needed help dishing up the punch as the speeches would begin soon. 
All your efforts of the night were wasted as you distributed the drink into the many cups. You were a sitting duck, and you could see Billy closing in. You rush, half spilling the punch on the table. People distracted him as he made his way over. It gave you hope you could finish before he reached you. 
“Whoa, slow down” Maria jeered. 
“Sorry. Can you find someone else to do this? Mr Bonney is coming over and if I get trapped talking to him it will ruin my night”. 
Maria slaps your arm hard causing you to spill a whole cup of punch. 
“I won’t hear that talk about Billy. Not after what he did”. 
Your friend goes back to pouring but she has now peaked your interest. 
“What did he do?” you ask. 
Maria places her cup down and leans closer to you as if it was a secret. 
“Our wedding present was the farm. We own it. Debt free. He let us off”.
An expensive wedding present from a man who barely knows the couple. It was also a dangerous thing to do. How many people will now be expecting debt to be wiped free after every major life event. 
Billy made his way over. You don’t turn from Maria but she ecstatically greets him. 
“Can I lend a hand, Maria?”. He stands too close, your shoulder almost touching him. 
Maria declined his offer of help but he picks up the empty cups and holds them out for you to fill. 
You don’t speak to him as you work but he continues to swap the cups under you. 
“Let's start passing these out” Maria spoke to you, picking up a tray and disappearing into the party. You follow suit, picking up your tray without a word, but Billy takes it from you, placing it back on the table. 
“I was wondering if you were ready for the dance you promised me?”.
“There are many girls here, Mr Bonney, who are dying for a dance”. You hint at him. You look to your father who is watching you from his group of friends. 
“That may be so”. He is resolved to his position. Although you knew it was unintentional his hand went to his gun holster light resting on the leather belt. 
 It was best not to make a scene so you give him a curt nod and head towards the crowd of people dancing. A dance at a wedding is hardly anything scandalous. He follows close and when he feels like you are far enough into the dance floor he takes your wrist into his hand and spins you towards him. 
“Are you having a good time?’’ he asks as you move together to the festive music.
“Yes”. You wish you could have said more but your brain felt muddled with him so close. You could feel his strong shoulders as you rest your arm around his neck, and his strong fingers squeezed around yours.
“It didn’t rain” he comments. 
“No” you agree. 
“You look beautiful in that dress”
“Thank you. I borrowed it from my sister”.
A man calls out to Billy, taking the attention off you for the second that it took Billy to give an acknowledging nod. 
You spin out from his arms in sync with the other girls. It reached the part of the song where partners were swapped but Billy held tight to your hand and spun you back into him, leaving the next man looking for his new dance partner. 
Billy jerks his head in the direction of the girl who was supposed to take your place.
“Over there” he suggests. 
The dance continues and you resume your position as Billy’s dance partner. 
“That’s not how that dance goes” you scold. 
“Not going to let you go that easy”.
He spins you out and back in again, “You told me you were two left feet. You seem to be doing alright to me”, he says as he holds you close. 
You push yourself out of his hold and back  into dancing formation. Cozy in the arms of the judge, jury and executor is not a good look. 
“That may be because you are two right feet”.  
He laughs causing you to giggle with him but you were acutely aware of your fathers protective stare. 
“See we make the perfect pair” he boasts. 
His remark silences you. Too many flirtatious exchanges could leave the wrong impression. 
“How are you feeling?” Billy asks softly, “I ain’t spinning you too much, am I? Did you want to sit with me for a bit?” 
“No” better to get the dancing out of the way for the night, “no, I feel fine”. 
He doesn’t spin you again. Instead keeping you close in a gently swaying motion. You follow his lead around the floor. A few stared but most were too consumed with themselves to notice. Only your father paid true attention. 
“Maria told me that you forgave the debt on the land” you said after a moment of nothing but dancing. 
He nods back, a small smile on his lips as he looks out to the other dancers. He was pleased that you knew.
“I did. We want to see prosperity in this land. Farmers are important in that”.
Suddenly his jaw became hard, and his hold loosened. 
“Wouldn’t that be right, Harold?”. 
His change confused you. Instead of dancing with you, he had pushed your body behind his, gripping the fabric of your dress around your waist to keep you still, and had his gun pointed straight. 
You move as much as you could to see Harold Fern, the baker in your community. He looked disheveled as he held out a shotgun.  His hair was a mess, his clothes half done up and wrinkled His cheeks and nose burned red with intoxication. 
“You son of a bitch” slurred Harold, “You took everything from me”. 
“I don’t know what you mean, but you better get that gun out of my face before I put you down”.
You shrink yourself as small as you could against Billy back. His hold tightens as he feels you move. 
Harold scoffs, “You ain’t that quick”. 
“Yes, I am” he threatens. 
Harold sways as he thinks about Billy’s statement giving Billy the time to try and talk so sense into the man. 
“I don’t want to hurt you, Harold. Don’t make me. Whatever you think I have done, I am sure we can fix it”. 
“Your taxes put me out of business. My fathers business, my fathers’ fathers business. You and your gang come in demanding a share from the work you don’t do”. 
 ‘I am sorry, Harold, Truely. But your business would have been gone long ago if it weren’t for us. You think the Casa gang would have left anything if they were successful in their attack? We stopped them. What do you think would have been left of this town if we didn’t?”. 
With the man subdued, you move from where you pressed up against Billy’s back to move from the line of fire. But Billy’s hold on your dress would not loosen. You resumed your spot against his back, hoping that the bullet would not go straight through. 
“If it’s a loan you need I can give it to you, but I can also send you to the grave after your father if your finger itches towards that trigger anymore”.
“Billy!” you hear a voice of one of the regulators. The surrounding people gasp as another gun is brought out. 
“It’s alright. Harolds here just had too much to drink. Why don’t you take him back to his house and i’ll be by tomorrow to see if we can figure out a solution to his problem”. 
Harold must have chosen to drop the gun because you heard the shoving and shouting from Billy’s man and not the ricochet of a gun. 
The grip on your dress is released and Billy turns towards you placing his hands on your shoulders. 
“Are you okay?”. 
You shake him off, aware of the audience still staring at you. Billy follows your gaze around the crowd. 
“It’s alright everyone. Let’s get the music going again’’ 
Billy raises his hand to your arm once more but you are pushed away before it lands. Your father had come to your rescue quickly pushing you through the crowd. You look back at Billy. He doesn’t move. Just stares until you are out of sight. 
You don’t see Billy for the next week. His men did his collections. You only saw them around town, never him. You figure he was laying low after the wedding incident. 
Your days became dull again without the excitement of Billy. Your chores became chores again without the added threat of Billy laying in wait. 
Miss may be a strong word, but something felt off when he wasn’t around. You figure you had gotten so used to a state of anxiety that normalcy felt strange. 
He would return, you ensured yourself, just enjoy it while it lasts.  
On the tenth night of his absence from your life you think that maybe he had skipped town, and you would never see him again. The Regulators would need a new leader and you shudder thinking who it could be. 
You sleep with the thought of him on your mind. Who would protect the town if not him? Who would fill your days with excitement and wonder? You scold yourself for the latter thought. He was an outlaw. A villain. Blood soaked his hands.  He was a bad man. The leader of bad men. You sleep with hateful thoughts of the Regulators and their leader. 
You wake with the sound of your dog scratching at your door. Begging to be let out. The night was cold. Even with a large blanket and the windows shut, you shivered. 
You sigh as you get up, quickly looking for your robe. It would do little to keep the cold away but something was better than nothing. 
It was odd for your dog to wake to pee. It only happened when he was a pup and that was long ago. 
You follow him as he races down the steps, trying your best to be quiet so as not to wake your family. The dog is energetic, scratching at the main door. 
You ‘sh’ him as you open it. You’re greeted by a wave of freezing air.  
The dog ruined your plans of staying on the porch as he disappeared into the darkness forcing you to follow down. 
The cold grass sinks into your feet, the moisture soaking your soles. You could barely see your dog in the dark with his black fur. Only the sound of him peeing told you he was still there. 
You stretch as you wait, looking up at the night sky. Slowly rolling your head in a circle. In doing so, you could see a small flame in the distance. A candle still going just outside of your father's shed.
You go to blow it out before it catches anything on fire. Another odd occurrence. Your father rarely lit candles due to their cost. He was sure to blow it out before he finished. Still he is old like your dog. They are both slipping from their good habits and you would need to learn to be more gracious. 
You bend down and with one quick blow, the flame is gone. Rising once more, you decide it is time to return to bed and go to call your dog over. 
His name never gets off your lips. It’s sealed shut by a strong gloved hand pressed over your mouth, and the feeling of a cool barrel of a gun pressed into the side of your head. 
“Sh, sh, sh, be quiet”. 
Your gut dropped, you knew the smooth voice of Billy. With faith he wouldn’t hurt you, you try screaming into his hand. He shook you a bit but no harsh hand was used to silence you. 
“I said quiet”. 
You do. You once heard that he shot a man off his horse a mile away. Now with a gun pressed into your head you didn’t need too much persuading to do as he said. 
“We’re going on a little trip, you and I” he whispers in your ear. 
Where was your dog? You wondered. Why couldn’t he sense you were in danger and come save you. You were no match for Billy. 
“Okay?” he asks.  You nod in response. 
“Okay, move”. He keeps his hand across your mouth, and his gun buried in your back, using it to move you forward. 
It’s not too far before the sight of his horse is seen only thirty feet from your house. He releases you and halters his gun so he could cup his hands to help you onto the saddle. 
You look back at your house, not too far in the distance. If you ran could you make it? If you screamed could your family hear it?
“Come on, now. Don’t keep me waiting”. 
Deciding you couldn’t make it, you slot your foot into his hands, and he hoists you up to the saddle. He got up more easily, and with a swing of his leg he saddles up behind you, bringing the reins and his hands down upon your lap. 
“Where are we going?” You ask.
“It’s not far. Just some place I go to think”. 
The horse is ridden at a leisurely pace. The cold air attacks you, and you find yourself curling into Billy’s warmth. 
He doesn’t speak to you again but you could feel him trying his best to protect you from the cold wind. His body barricaded around you, trying to keep you warm. At one point when the wind blew especially hard, he planted his large warm hand over the side of your face and pressed the other side of your face into his chest.
With the amount of shock running through your body, you weren't sure if the ride was short like he promised. It felt like an entirety by his side. 
When you arrived at the camp, the fire was already going, and a tent was set up. 
He dismounts first and then reaches back up to help you down. 
“Why have you brought me here?”. You accept his help down, his horse wouldn’t go without him. 
“To talk. Some place where you can’t run away”.
His words should have carried more weight, but you knew they were said in a non-threatening manner. 
There was a log near the fire that you used as a seat while Billy remained across from you. 
“I’ve missed you these past few days. Been real lonely without you”. He kicks the dirt under his shoe and watches as it jumps from his force. 
“We were never friends, Billy”. 
Billy. The name seemed to have just fallen off your lips. 
The sound of his name gave him courage to look up at you.
“You’re right. You’re right. We skipped that stage”. 
His eyes go back down and he is silent once more. 
“Y/N, your daddy’s never going to approve of me”.
“No” you agree, “No, he’s not”. 
His eyes flick up back to yours, his stance hardens, his shoulders square and his eyes peer down at you.
“So. Where does that leave us?” he asks. 
A large gust of wind blows through the camp, straight through you. Your body hunches from the cold
“Are you cold?” he asks in a state of shock that he could ignore the obvious. He doesn’t wait for your response, gone into his tent before the question fully parted from his lips. 
He brings out a thick wool blanket, and wraps it around your shoulders before going back to his side of the fire.
He rubs his hand across the bottom of his face, his other hand positions on his hip. You wondered what he was thinking. Why he looked so worried when he was the one in the position of power? 
“Billy?” you asked softly. His eyes flicked from the ground up to you. “Billy, take me home”. 
“You know God told me that you were the woman for me’’.
“Did he?” you ask cautiously. 
“Years ago. I saw you in town, I said ‘God, if she’s the one make her drop her bracelet’. And you did”. 
He reaches into his vest pocket pulling out his pocket watch to show you the chain. He brought it over to you. In the light you could see that he had melted the gold of your bracelet to his small gold watch and fashioned it into his pocket watch that he carried daily. The ends of the bracelet were melded but the gold that was braided together looked identical to the bracelet you had lost.
 It was your bracelet. One you lost nearly three years ago. The clasp was broken, you shouldn’t have been wearing it but it was one of your favorites. 
“It’s just a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything” you said. A broken bracelet was hardly uncommon for a woman who had little money to fix it. 
This seemed to anger him. His face scrunched up and his movement became rough and short. 
“Coincidence? Was it a coincidence tonight? I had a burning desire to see you and you just so happen to be outside waiting for me”.
“I wasn’t waiting for you”.
“Well something brought you outside to me. You don’t call that fate?”. 
“My dog”. Your eyes slowly weep as Billy the kid turns into Billy the outlaw. 
To run a group of outlaws. To kill men, and control a town, you knew he had to have a dark streak. No matter how well he hid it, there must be something lurking underneath to be able to exert the violence needed.
His hand flys to his forehead, rubbing it as if you were causing him a headache. 
“You ain't listening. Me and you. We’re connected. Meant to be”. 
“Okay” you agree. Unsure on what else to do. “Billy, I am really cold and would like to go home now”.
“Here” he comes closer to you, bending down and helping you to your feet. 
He picks up a lit lamp by the fire, and tries to lead you forward. 
“It’s warmer in the tent”.
Your heart jumps. Alone in a tent is the last place you want to be. 
Your arm jerks from his touch as you speak, “Take me home now”. 
His hands grip your arms too tight.
“Home? What if I gave you a new home? One where we could be together”.
The cold air no longer bothered you. Billy was the law. Whatever he did would be met with no consequences. 
“I’ve been thinking, if your daddy won’t approve no matter what. Maybe we shouldn’t ask him” he continued. 
You struggle against Billy. How quickly after all this time that his touch became hurtful.
“I need my father's blessing,” you state. 
“I was worried you would say that” he remarks. 
The force on your arms changed from holding you still to pushing you forward. 
“Billy get off” you shout. 
“You won’t listen to reason” he retaliates. 
The door of the tent wasn’t tied so you were easily pushed through the fabric. You fall onto the laid mattress with no strength to raise yourself while Billy does ties up the door to keep the cold air out.
“Billy” you cry. 
He lays down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back and up your neck. 
“Everything is fine. I’ll take care of you”.
“Billy, don’t do this,” you pleaded. 
“If I can’t make you see my love, I can make you feel it”. 
He rises to rid himself of his suspenders. You sit up on your legs in front of you, with no harsh hand pushing you back down.
You capture his head between your hands, only talking when there was no attempt to shake you off. 
“Billy, think about what this will mean for me”. 
His eyes feel cold as they graze upon you, “I am thinking about you. About us. He can’t deny the marriage if what is done is done”. 
Feeling his head push forward under your hold, you go to make one last plea before his lips meet yours. 
“Bil-”. His kiss is hard and possessive. 
His body soon follows, and the weight of him presses you to the floor. 
Shoving at his shoulders doesn’t do much to deter him. After a handful of hard kisses, he changes positions, straddling your waist so he could sit up and unbutton his shirt. 
His movements are quick and rugged like having to get rid of the clothes was an annoying chore. 
Despite his dangerous line of work, and the odds, his body is free from scars and bullet holes. His tone chest and strong shoulders flex as he moves to throw the shirt to the corner of the tent. 
You’re memorized by his beauty until his hands reach for his belt. Your hands spring up to stop him, only this does he resist. 
“It’s alright. It ain’t going to hurt” he places a hand on your chest to keep you down while he undid his holster’s belt buckle, “I told you I would never hurt you”.
With the leather belt free, he slides the gun in the holster up along the ground. 
The button of his pants only takes a twist of his wrist and he is left in his underwear on top of you. 
“Get off” you yell at him but he continues by dragging you up to where the pillows are laid. 
He positions one of the pillows directly under your head for your comfort as you kick, your head rises and falls into it. 
His hand loosening the front tie of your nightgown stills the fight you had. 
“Billy, wait” you request. 
“I have waited. Nearly three years”. The nightgown is pushed off from your shoulders, and pulled down the rest of your body. 
The shake of your body is attributed to many things, the cold air that swarmed you, the shame and fear of it all, the fact that it was your first time being bare to a man. Billy took it to mean the cold and adjusted the blankets so they were pressed up against the sides of your body. 
The hand on your chest left as you stopped moving and both hands were moved to unbutton your underpants. 
“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry’’. 
He leans down to kiss you again as a distraction to get between your legs. He is there before you know it.
He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. You wondered what he was doing before he brought them down to your sex. 
You try to tell him to stop but your brain couldn’t muster it. Only a gasp escapes your lips as you feel him enter you. 
Its uncomfortable at first and you squirm away from him
“Stay still. It’ll get better” he promises. 
In an attempt to aid the friction, he leans his head down, spitting into cunt.
The extra moisture does help your arousal. Soon you are wet enough for his fingers to sink into you. 
He takes them out, not wanting you to finish too early, and brings his fingers to his lips to suck off the moisture. 
His hand comes down next to your head as lifts himself up to take off his underwear. 
“Is it going to hurt?” you ask. There was no point in begging. You had reached the point of no return. 
“Maybe. For a little bit, but it will feel good too. I promise”. 
He lines himself up with you, and with a final kiss he plunges himself into you. 
It feels as if he hits a wall inside of you. You were certain it was as far as he could go but his hips hammered into you determined to break through. 
You were about to tell him that you had taken as much of him as you could take when he does break the wall. It was a searing pain as if he had cut you. You let out a tisk of pain, reaching up and clawing at the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Billys’. 
‘Sorry. Sorry. I know” he says, but the rhythm of his hips remains the same. 
The pain subsided after a couple of thrusts that felt terribly uncomfortable and sore. It was replaced with the pleasure he promised you that built in your stomach, and tingles between your legs. 
Still, this was not how it was supposed to go. Not in a tent in the middle of the night. Not outside of marriage and not without your father permission.
You throw your head up from a particularly hard thrust, and notice his gun still in the holster just beyond your fingertips. Your head was too scattered to form any thoughts. Otherwise, you never would have reached for it. Even if Billy had been a stranger from the saloon, you could never kill a man. 
You had no intention of killing him. You had just wanted to touch it. The gun of Billy-the-kid. 
“What? What do you want my gun for?” As he leans up to reach for it and you feel his cock push up into your stomach. 
He brings it out of his holster with the barrel pointed at your head, but his finger is far from the trigger. 
“Don’t you know a man’s gun is part of him? You should ask a man before you touch it”.
The gun pushes further and down to your lips. Billy’s eyes were dark. The awkward boy that used to court you was buried in the furthest part of him.
“Open your mouth” he commands. 
With the taste of metal at your teeth, you do part your lips enough for the tip of the gun. A struggle could lead to an accidental misfire. 
His thrusts in time with the movement of the gun. His eyes focus on your lips, the way they curl around his barrel. 
The metallic taste overwhelmed your tongue and your nose. It felt as if you could still taste the smoke on it. You are slow in your movements so not to startle him as you pull your head back.  
His stomach flutters and he loses his composure as you do.  
“Fuck” he sputters, his eyes close and he picks up pace, “That was hot”. 
You shake your head, pushing the hand that held the gun away from you. 
He drops his wrist down from your face, and slides the gun back over to his holster in the corner. 
“It’s gone. It’s alright, it’s gone”. 
The hand is repurposed against the side of your face, and his rhythmic pace is returned. 
“I wouldn’t hurt you” he tells you once more. 
“You’re hurting me now” you groan. 
His face scrunches up, and his thrusts come to rest.
“No,” he says, offended. 
“No. That aint what I am doing”. 
His hands on the back of your shoulders lift you up against his chest, as he hoists your bodies together into an upright position. 
Your hands grip on top of his shoulders, and you rest your forehead against his collarbone from the pressure of him inside of you as you sit on his lap. 
“Look at me” he orders, but your position suited you just fine. 
You rock your head against his shoulder blade in response, which satisfied him. 
“The only way I would hurt you now is by leaving you. No man but those desperate or widowed would have you after I am done. Your family would never recover their name. Now I’ve made it clear that we are to get married, so no hurting is being done”. 
His fingers dig into your hips so hard that there was sure to be bruises littering the skin tomorrow. 
“Ain’t no sin for a husband and wife to become one”.
“We are not married,” you remind him. 
“What’s marriage but a commitment to God to have and to hold the other? I’ve made that commitment. You have too. I know you have. If it wasn’t for your daddy we’d be married a long time ago”.
“Billy” you groan. The lack of movement frustrated you. He had started an itch that now needed to be scratched. 
To ease your discomfort, he brought his hand down between your bodies and began to gently swirl his finger around your pearl. 
“I built you a house, you know. Told myself I couldn’t touch you until I drove the final nail in, and the day I do, you appear at the market a day earlier than you usually would. We’re connected. Every bad thing has led me here to you”.
Your nails dig into his flesh as the pressure builds in knots within your stomach. 
A frustrated sound makes its way from your throat when he suddenly stops, moving his hands around the back of your neck and around your waist so he could lay you down and finish. 
His pace is faster and harder. It cuts off his ability to talk any longer. Only groan and grunt. 
As you tighten around him and pulse as you come, it invites him to join you.
As soon as he is off you, you turn to your side away from him. What would happen now? Would Billy leave you here? Would he kick you out into the forest? You worried that he spoke of marriage out of lust that had now been fulfilled. 
He seemed content with your presence, as he reached out to gently scratch the back of your neck. 
You can hear animals outside the tent as they scurry around.  Billy regains his stamina beside you and the silence between you both stretches into the night. 
You focus on the sounds of the frogs and crickets as they perform in perfect harmony. The sounds and sex lull you to a tired state, but Billy wasn’t through with the night. 
With a small kiss to the back of your neck, he was pushing back on your shoulder to lay you flat again. 
“No” you protest, too tired for much more than a simple plea, “Not again”. 
It was late. Possibility early morning. Your body wanted nothing more than to shut down, now that the adrenaline has faded. 
“Yes. again. We gotta make sure we put a baby in you”, he states, positioning his body once again over yours. 
—--
You woke up alone in the tent. Two blankets were laid on top of you keeping off the cold, but the dull ache between your legs told you to get up and go back home. You found your clothes on the floor, noticing that Billy had taken all his.
The sight of Billy eating on a log relieves you as you exit the tent. You had no way of getting home without him. 
He gets up from his seat as he sees you push back the fabric of the tent. 
“Good morning” he greets, “How are you feeling?”
“I want to go home. Now”, you demand. 
He looked like a spoiled child getting told off by a parent. His head lowers, and he clasps his hands together in front of himself. 
“Yeah. We should be getting back” he agrees. 
His head rises again and he beckons your forward with his hand.
“You need to eat something before we do. I made porridge”. 
You take his place on the log in front of the fire and his jacket. Without a word, he takes his warm jacket off himself and helps you put it on. 
A bowl of warm porridge is placed in your hands, and then he leaves you be. Giving you space to process your emotions. 
He packs up the tent and gear while you sit, unable to eat what was given to you.
Even in all the time it took him to pack away the tent and all the camping equipment, you had yet to take a single bite.
You watch as Billy kicks dirt into the fire, smothering your warmth.  
The bowl is gently taken from your hands where Billy flicks the food away, and rinses it with his water bottle before packing it away.
You follow him to the horse and he helps you up on the saddle the same way as the night before. 
The swing of your leg as you try to hook it over the saddle is executing. 
You shout from the pain, feeling the mussels as they pull to extend your leg.
“Easy” he soothes, helping you back steady on your feet. 
You shove him off. It was his fault. Your body was in pain and your life was over because of him.
He stubbles back from the sudden shove but he comes back without reproach. 
“Here” he says. 
He swings up to the saddle, leaning his body down to pull you up. You sit across the horse’s saddle, legs together to ease the pain.
Billy rides slowly for you. The day was sunny but a chill still hung in the air. You wondered how Billy went on without his jacket. 
The ride took you through trees and along a stream of water. It was not far from your home but you had never been there.
With a twenty minute ride your home came into view. While distant you could see your family as they gathered on the porch. 
The galloping of the hoofs stopped their discussion with a loud relief. 
“She’s here!” your sister yelled back into the house, “She’s back”.
Your father runs outside to the porch watching with hard eyes as you and Billy ride. 
Billy halts his horse a meter away and slides you down the saddle onto the ground. He is quick to get off behind you, holding your reluctant hand in his. 
You saw your father disappear into the house as you crossed the distance. He wasn’t a fool. He knew what Billy had done. The shame must have been too overbearing for him. 
The rest of your family were all still in their robes as they stood on the path waiting for you to come near. Your mother held out her arms but Billy stopped ten feet away under the shade of the large oak tree. 
“Ma’am” he greets your mother, “I am sorry for the distress I have caused your family, but as you can see she was safe with me”. 
The stickiness between your thighs became apparent as he spoke the words. 
You tug your hand back but he keeps it in his tight hold. 
The front door is kicked open and your father appears holding out his shotgun. 
Billy is quick to act, pulling you back behind him but he doesn’t draw his gun. 
“You get off my land” your father demands. 
Billy nods, “I will. We just came to collect a couple of things”. 
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your father was not a very good shot. He was old and aim was crooked. Billy was a far better shot. He wouldn’t miss. 
“Ain’t no we, boy. You get your filthy hands off my daughter, and you get out of town, or I'll kill you”.
Your mother growls her husband's name as she moves the rest of her children to the side. Only your father was under the illusion that he could take Billy on and live. 
“Now I plan to do right by her” Billy states with authority, “I’ll marry her”.
“The hell you will” your father roared. 
“It doesn’t have to end like this. You could live. See your daughters married with children. Die of old age like God intended”. 
“Draw” your father commands. To kill an unarmed man was murder, but your father was worried about the courts and not the Regulators who were sure to come seeking vengeance. 
You latch onto Billy's arm to stop him drawing his gun, or at least delay his aim so your father could have a chance. 
“You won’t mind if I get your daughter out from under me, now?” Billy asks, “Your aim has been off since you first pointed the gun at me. You could hit her instead”. 
With the agreeance of your father, Billy brings you back from behind him with a tight hold on your arm. 
“Go to the tree” Billy nods in its direction but you could hear your father calling for you to come to him. 
As soon as he releases you, the direction you go is not to the tree but to your family. 
You arm is caught and shoved to the right,
 ‘I said the tree” Billy reiterates. 
You follow his command this time, hugging yourself to the large oak tree. 
Billy takes his gun but holds his hands outwards in a surrendered position. 
“Just let me show you something” The crowd follows Billy’s eyes over to the work yard,  “You see that paint tin over there?”
A small paint tin rested on the lank of wood that was going to become the new fence. If you weren’t looking for it you would hardly see it from the distance. 
“What about it?” your father asks. The gun is unstable in his hands. It slightly bopped as he pointed it.  He was scared, and you wished you could do something that would deescalate the situation. 
“Just watch”. Billy turns to the tins direction and aims his gun with a steady hold. 
The first bullet sprayed the white paint as it went flying in the air. The second bullet hit it before it landed, flinging it further away and higher from the force. The third bullet shot it down with a hole in the center.
“Now we can continue if you want, and I can take her away without a father, or we can be joined together by marriage. That means no taxes”. 
Your father contemplates his options. He wanted to kill Billy, you could see that plain on his face, but could he?. 
The answer was no. The gun was lowered and your mother let out a sigh of relief. 
Billy beckons you back over, taking your arm back in his grip once you get close enough. 
“Pack your things, and get changed” he commands, “If you think about holding up in there, I’ll bring Jesse back and we’ll burn the house down”. 
You nod spitefully. His eyes looked over you once before turning back to the house. 
“Go” he orders, letting you go. 
Your family is quick to squabble around you as you trek into the house. There were too many words flown at you.Too many hands touching you as you moved. 
Only your father stayed away, Slumping into a foyer chair with his gun still in his hand. 
You were determined to do your tasks quickly and lead Billy away. The ache between your legs was ignored as you fling open your wardrobe and shove what you can into your travel case. It filled quickly, you only had two more dresses in your wardrobe but you left them favoring to take your make-up and hair accessories. 
It hardly zips, and lands on the ground with a heavy thud. 
You weren’t sure how long it had taken you, but the less time keeping Billy waiting the better. You grab one of the last dresses you owed out of your wardrobe, side stepping people as they went to hold you. 
“Help me with my dress” you call on your sister. 
“You aren’t honestly leaving with him?” your mother took a seat on your bed as if you had punched her. 
Stepping into the green dress and waiting to be laced up, gave them the answer that they ignored. 
“Billy is the law,” you remind them. 
Your sister silently agreed by stepping forwarding and lacing you into your dress. You put Billy’s coat back on to show him you still had it, and take the time to hug and kiss them all. Billy was not the kind to keep you from your family but it would be the last time you would see them as their daughter and sister. 
Your father was still sitting in the chair as you came down. He doesn't move as you bend down and kiss his forehead. 
Billy was waiting outside, his gun resting on his thigh was holsted once more in his belt so he had hands to take your bag. 
He straps it to his horse in no time, turning to wait for you. 
You took one more look back at your family on the porch before you were ready. 
You raise your arms up to Billy on the horse and he pulls you up to the saddle once more. 
The ride to the Regulators camp was silent and quite a distance. Billy had taken his hat off as the sun went higher in the sky, and placed it upon your head. 
It felt strange to wear Billy’s coat and hat. Less than 24 hours ago he was little more than a stranger. Now he was your self-proclaimed fiance. You could very well be carrying his child. It all happened so fast. Your head spun trying to piece together the facts.
The noise of the Regulators as Billy’s horse approached did not help your scrambled mind. They whooped and hollered. 
You could hear Billy’s smile as he greeted them but his horse never slowed. Moving past the building where the men sat drinking, to the furthest field where a wooden house stood tall. 
Across from the house was a horse corral where they trained the horses. In between your house and the first house of one of the Regulators was the stable where the horses were housed. 
In addition to the tax, you assumed the men also traded horses to earn a wage. 
It was a decent size of land and well kept. The house in front of you looked strong. It was two stories of wooden panels, and a large porch was wrapped around the entire estate. If you were to take Billy at his word, it must have taken him a long time to complete such a house.
He stops the horse in front of the house, swinging off first to tie the reins to the railings of the porch. 
He assures you that he will take your things inside when he comes back out to tend to his horse, but he was eager for you to see your new home. 
With help down, Billy leads you into the house. It was furnished. Nothing decorative but tables and chairs. The entertaining lounge had a large fireplace, and the kitchen had a large stove and a large window above the sink that pointed out to a field of flowers. 
It grew a distaste in your mouth. He had designed this home with you in mind. He always knew this day was coming and expected you to swallow the news joyfully and quickly. 
‘And this” he opens a door just beside the living room to show a smaller version. A dark red armchair and matching leg rest faced a small fireplace. An arched window that Billy had built in a reading nook and decorated with mismatched pillows, provided light into the room. 
“This is your room for when you need your space. I won’t step foot into it”. He looks at you expecting you to be overjoyed but finds you glaring back at him. 
“Do you like it?” he asks. 
‘I have your cum dried between my legs, and you are asking me if I care about a room?” you bit. 
He closes the door quickly and takes you by the arm to lead you up stairs, 
“I’ll get you hot water for your bath”. 
Billy boils the water over the stove as you sit in the chair and wait. A hip bath was placed against the wall in the kitchen. You go and expect it. Your family was too poor for one. A basin did the job fine. But you always wanted one. 
He doesn’t let the water get too hot, only luke warm before joining you. 
“Do you mind if I stay?” he questions as he gently places the water and rag cloths on the floor by your foot.
You don’t look at him as you talk. Your fingers reach for the laces of your dress but they touch his as he unlaces the dress for you. 
“What does it matter? The sin has already been committed”.
Your dress falls to the floor around you. You’re quick to leave your undergarments alongside it so you could climb into the tub. 
“You need to know I won’t ever do that again”. He squats next to you in the tub, bringing the warm rags up to your skin. You take one and focus on scrubbing the seaman off your thighs while he focuses on your shoulders and neck. 
“I’ll take care of you. Respect you like a good husband should. I won-”. 
“Your words mean nothing to me” you cut him off. 
He shifts as you lean back into the tub.
‘I’ll prove it to you”, he resolves. 
—-
The wedding was small with only your family and the Regulators in attendance. The priest married you quickly and you were placed on Billy’s saddle once more. No big party predeceased it. Your family went home, and the Regulators went back to their camp where bottles were opened. 
You could hear the Regulators as they used your marriage as an excuse to play from the comfort of the house Billy built you. 
He remained with you despite the protests from his gang. 
He remained quiet as you figured out the swell of emotions inside you. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. A quiet relief lingered in the back only causing more distress.  
When he bought you the dinner he had made for you an emotion finally stuck. 
Acceptance. 
William. H Bonney was your husband now. 
He kept true to his words. Patiently waiting for your permission. You slept next to him every night, but besides a gentle kiss goodnight, he never touched you. His patience granted him two willfully-born sons. 
He was a good husband and father. 
You and your children were never left without. 
You watch him from the window as he shows the boys how to ride. They were too small for the lesson to be anything more than a pony ride but it gave you time to put dinner on the table without them under your feet. 
He winks at you when he catches you staring. Unconsciously your hand goes to your belly. 
‘A little girl would be nice’, you think.
323 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 2 months
Text
Just Pretend-Twenty Seven
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: I apologize for the trauma I will cause with this chapter. But I promise that it's meant to happen this way. The light might be flickering now but soon, it will shine brighter than ever.
Also, I know I teased sweet, sweet, smut, but time got away from me so I will save it for the next chapter! Tumblr is being stupid and only allowing me to tag 50 people on a post so I might have to take some of these tags and add them in a comment, so if for some reason you don't see your tag, don't fret! It is added in the comments. As always, enjoy my loves, and thank you for sticking with me!
Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @teenblues @malice-ov-mercy @krisslee18 @xxkittenkissesxx @happi-goth @embracethereaper42 @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @bloody-delusion-expert @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @a1ex-ba1ex @sideeyenoah @emzandthevoid @badomensls @bellaboo967 @waake-mee-up @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @cncohshit @amelia-acero @karenfranco @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @bleachampion @thepastelfae @supersquirrel1996 @madomens @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715
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READER
People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.
That’s complete bullshit. 
The noise around me was muted, and uninteresting, as my eyes stared daggers into the burial plot at my feet. It was all wrong, everything about this day was wrong. This entire moment was a facade of what people always believed happened after death. My dad wasn’t up in the sky watching me with a proud smile on his face. 
His body was in the ground beneath my feet. 
There was an empty hole in my heart, caving in with every pathetic attempt from the ones around in an effort to comfort me. It was a feign response due to what happened. No one here knew me or my father. Some of these people I hadn’t seen in years while the others I never met, acquaintances of my father’s while he lived here in Japan. They were compelled by the crosses on their necks because they were worried about what came next for them. They were all liars. 
My dad included. 
He lied to me for over a year. He hid his cancer from everyone. He suffered in silence and in pain. 
Did I not matter to him? Was I not important enough for him to tell me the truth? Did he even love me?
When I arrived in Japan four days ago, Noah and I immediately went to the hospital where my dad died to speak with the doctors. According to them, my dad had been diagnosed with lung cancer almost two years ago but they were hopeful because they caught it early on. He even beat it with rigorous treatments and was feeling good; alive. 
Yet, five weeks ago the cancer came back, more aggressive than before and this time my dad opted out of treatments. He told his doctors he was done fighting and wanted to go naturally. He had all of his funeral plans already set in motion, casket and all.
The real kicker about my dad’s cancer? He never smoked a day in his life and he was one of the healthiest persons I know. 
You knew. 
When the hospital first told me what happened, I didn’t believe them. There was no way my father was sick and didn’t tell me. I was in a state of denial for hours after the news, I sat in the hospital waiting room for my dad to walk through those doors to tell me everything was alright and it was just a normal check up. 
Noah had to force me out of the chair after three hours of waiting for a ghost. 
“Y/N, he’s not coming back,” Noah’s eyes shined with his tears as he lifted me up from my seated position. “I’m sorry, angel. But we can’t keep sitting here.”
I choked on a breath causing Noah to turn his head towards me but I refused to meet his gaze knowing that if I did, all of my strong reserve would crumble the second I drank in those almond eyes. Instead, I burned all of my hate down at the open grave, desperately wishing the dirt would cover the oak box that was six feet deep. He cheated death before but now it was real.
My dad was buried in a box because the cancer couldn’t stop. 
“Would his daughter like to say a few words?” 
Noah shifted beside me, the softest of breezes we felt for the first time all afternoon blowing through his unkempt hair and through the muted feeling coursing through me, I felt his fingers link with mine. 
“We can keep going,” he answered for me. 
I didn’t say a word all morning while getting ready for my dad’s funeral. I was in a catatonic state of numbness in a way to mentally prepare myself. It wasn’t until Noah and I were sitting in the rental car outside of the cemetery as we waited for the funeral home to arrive with my dad’s body that I finally spoke. 
“Please don’t make me say anything today. He won’t be able to hear me,” I kept my eyes trained hard outside of the window, not bothering to glance towards Noah who sat in the driver's seat. 
His tattooed fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Whatever you want, angel.”
As the funeral continued on, I felt Noah’s strong arms wrap around my shoulder and pulled me into his warm chest. The dress I wore did nothing to keep the warmth inside of me with the short sleeves even after Noah asked me three times before we left this morning if I wanted a jacket. 
“Please take all the time you need to say your goodbyes,” the man from the funeral home said. “Miss. Y/L/N, is there somewhere you would like everyone to meet you for the wake?” 
Right, the wake. Another name for an after party where you’re supposed to celebrate the life the deceased lived. 
Or as I called it, another bullshit reason for people to act like they knew my dad. 
Chase, who stood on the other side of me, cleared his throat. “Feel free to head on home after this. We decided not to have a wake.”
A round of gasps rose from the group of people standing around the now filling grave. “Dear, you need to have a wake! It’s what your father would want!” 
My head snapped up towards the older woman who hid beneath an excessively large hat. I think she was in one of my fathers book clubs. Through the bloodshot eyes, I sliced her in half with my gaze and my throat burned as I tried not to cry.
“You have no idea what my dad would have wanted,” I snapped. 
Noah hushed me by dragging his lips into my hairline and running a hand up and down my arm. 
“It’s alright, angel. Just breathe.”
Malcolm gave an apologetic smile to everyone before bidding them all a goodbye with a curt nod. Slowly, everyone who didn’t matter dispersed and I was left with the ones that did. 
Noah continued to hold me to his chest as the sobs began to fall through my lips, and I grasped onto his jacket to find some sort of anchor. 
Chase and Malcolm solemnly stood on my right with their hands deep in their pockets. Besides me, they were the only other ones here that actually knew my dad. He loved Chase and Malcolm like they were his own sons so I knew they were hurting deep down as well. 
Jesse, Matt, Faye, and Michael all stood on the other end of the grave. I could feel their looks of sorrow as it bounced from the filled grave back to me. 
Jolly, Astrid, Folio, and Nicholas were behind me, closing ranks almost in a way to shield me from any other bad thing that threatened my life. 
Since it was so last minute, some of the rest of the crew couldn’t fly out but I didn’t hold it against them. It was unknown how long we would be here for so between Tay, Bryan, and Davis they all offered to take turns with watching Salem. 
“Can heaven fall to earth?” I cried into Noah’s shirt. “I want to feel it come down. I need him.” 
Noah let out a shaky breath, resting his chin on top of my head as he rocked me slowly. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just let me stain his shirt with my tears, and it wasn’t until I saw Chase’s striking blue eyes that I realized the sun had set and the moon was starting to crest over the hills, gray lights breaking through the cherry blossom trees. 
“I don’t want to rush you, sweets,” he gave me a somber smile. “But I think they’re going to close the gates soon.” 
Blinking rapidly, I looked around at all my friends; my family. They dropped everything to be here for me and most of them never met my dad. However my heart was too broken to care. At that moment, I wanted to be alone with my dad. I didn’t even want Noah. I tried to push him away the first few days but he refused, he wouldn’t let me be alone during this.
While everyone went back to their hotel rooms, we would be going back to my dad’s house again. His scent still lingered in the aged walls and I swore the first few nights we slept in the guest room, I could hear his footsteps in the hallway. I expected to see him sitting in the old and faded green reading chair in the corner of the living room with either a book or the paper in his lap. Instead I woke up to an empty house. 
Well, almost empty. 
“Did you want a few minutes alone?” Noah asked. 
Finally looking up at him through the tears, I shook my head. “Can we please go back?” 
His face was contorted with his own pain yet still managed to give me that smile I loved. “Anything you want, angel.”
While they all conversed about possibly meeting up for breakfast in the morning, my mind was elsewhere. All of my thoughts were in the dark recesses of my mind and I let them take me further and further. I didn’t want to find a way out. 
I wanted to be with my dad. 
With Noah’s gentle tug on my shoulder, I let him lead me back towards the rental car, still in a state of dissociation. I didn’t even realize he helped me into the seat, buckled my seat belt, and drove off from the cemetery until we were minutes away from my dads place. 
“Y/N?” 
Feeling like it weighed like a bag of rocks, I raised my head up from staring at my dry knuckles and over towards the concerning eyes of Noah. 
“Hm?” 
Words couldn’t even form on my tongue. I was too far deep in my grief and the idea of talking was too much of a task.
“Are you hungry? I can stop by that ramen place, if you want.”
Noah flicked his eyes back on the road as he sat straight up against the seat but I knew with the way his jaw ticked, something was weighing heavily on him. It wasn't a secret that he was keeping how he felt with everything to himself and the little voice inside my brain was screaming at me to talk with him, work out how both of us were feeling. 
Instead, I gave him a very weak shrug before turning to look out the window, the scenery whipping past us. It was all a blur of colors, unimaginative and unappealing. When we arrived back to my dad’s place, I barely gave Noah a smile as he opened the door for me and when I stepped into the darkness of the somewhat empty home, I made a beeline towards the guest bedroom on the far end of the hallway, not bothering to look at the envelope with my name on it on the kitchen counter or the 10lbs fluff ball that happily wagged its tail at my feet when he saw us. 
Like I’d done the last four days, I locked myself inside of the guest room and buried myself underneath the mounds of blankets. There was a lot of work to get done with packing up my dad’s place but it didn’t matter to me. Nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that did was rotting in the earth's soil. 
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NOAH
"Angel?" I called out into the cold darkness. 
Stepping into the now familiar house, I shook the chilled rain from my jacket and hung it up on the hook next to the door. The aged wood of the floor creaked beneath my feet as I padded across it, after kicking off my shoes. There was a faint glow emanating from the lamp in the living room, casting my surroundings in a muted yellow as I set down the takeout bag on the counter. 
Not like she would eat. She hasn't eaten anything in days.
The two envelopes had sat in the same spot on the kitchen counter since we first arrived eight days ago; untouched. One with Y/N’s name and one with mine. She refused to touch it or even look at it because she knew what it was. 
A letter from her dad. 
I didn’t force her to read it knowing she needed the time to accept everything beforehand. Yet deep down, I was so afraid that the walls Y/N had made in her mind had locked her in. We weren’t okay but for now, I needed to try my best to just pretend.
Jingling tags caught my attention and I bent low at the knees just as Kuma met me halfway. He was Y/N’s dad’s three month old Akita puppy. From when he died to when we arrived three days later, one of his friends had been taking care of the dog but I offered to take over in Kuma’s care. 
Y/N wanted nothing to do with him. 
“We’ll take him to the shelter before we leave.”
“Hey bud,” I smiled while scratching behind his ears. “Did you get dinner yet?” 
Kuma let out a bark, quiet and squeaky, and he shook out his fur. He was all black with a white spot around one eye and on one paw. 
After filling up his bowl with food and water, I brushed my hands on the back of my dress slacks and let out a long breath. Earlier today, Y/N had a meeting with some lawyers to figure out her dad’s estate and what to do with the rest of his money. It was stated in his will that she had the final say on what to do with his things and that she was entitled to all of his savings. Y/N was never hurting financially since Hollow Souls was thriving but now with the extra money, she’d be able to live comfortably without worry. Thankfully in the divorce, it was made clear that her mom would not get a cent of her dads money when he passed. 
Y/N had yet to decide what she wanted to do with all of her fathers things. As soon as we both arrived back earlier, she yet again locked herself in the guest room. 
The house, while it was unfamiliar at first, I knew that the bones of the structure told a story; one of a man that loved his daughter very much and wished he was able to say goodbye. My socks slid against the floor as I followed the soft tune of music from the guest bedroom, passing the one room that had remained shut since we arrived a week ago; her refusing to open it. 
Her dad’s bedroom.
"Y/N?" I tried again, hoping now that I was closer to the bedroom she'd be able to hear me. "I brought some ramen from the place down the road. Your favorite."
The only thing I heard was the same tune of music, louder now. 
"I'm sorry I can't get out of bed. I'm sorry that my head’s always a mess." 
Joe. His song, I’m sorry. I’m trying, was one of her favorites. 
Y/N had been playing the same nothing, nowhere song the entire afternoon, drowning in his melodies when I left her earlier after our disagreement. I knew she wasn't in the right headspace with what she tried so I couldn't hold it against her. But there was no way I could do what she asked. 
Not now. 
"Noah, please," her hands reached for my shirt, trying to pry it away from my skin. "I just need five minutes."
"Y/N," I tenderly held onto her wrists, halting her. "You're not in the right mind for this." 
She wrenched her hands from my grip and knelt on the bed, grasping the waistband of my dress pants, and began pulling them down. I fought against her as her hand slipped between my briefs and took a hold of my cock, squeezing it. 
"Make me forget this pain, Noah. Please."
Y/N attacked my lips with hers and for a brief moment, I sunk into the way she felt against me, her fingers gathering the precum from my cock, smearing it over the head. I shook in her touch as my mouth moved against hers. It had been so long since we were intimate, almost two weeks, and my soul had yearned for hers wanting to feel complete again. 
But I knew this wasn't the right time. She was using me as an outlet for the pain she hid behind the smile on her face.  
"This isn't right, angel," I gently pushed her away but kept a hold on her face. "I won't take advantage of you when you're like this." 
Bloodshot and broken eyes stared up at me, soulless and lifeless, before she pushed me away to burrow herself under the covers again; where she'd been every day since the funeral.
Knocking on the open door, I peered inside expecting to see Y/N lying in bed where I left her but my heart stalled in my chest at the sight. The world came to a standstill as every single one of my senses was on high alert, panicked eyes dragging across every inch of empty space. 
Shattered glass spilled onto the floor from the trail that began in the adjacent bathroom and that was when I noticed the mirror had been broken. I did my best to tiptoe around the shards as I peered into the shower, hoping to see Y/N. 
“Angel?” My voice shook with fear, wondering what the hell happened in the twenty minutes I was gone. 
Running a frantic hand through my soaked hair from the earlier rain, I scanned the room once more and made the decision to go search the rest of the house when I froze. Choking on a breath, I gingerly reached for a piece of paper stained with blood that lay on the torn up bed. It was from Y/N’s lyric journal. I only knew that because of the older writings from You and I. 
Yet, it was the fresh ink that made my heart drop to the depths of my stomach, the sound of crinkling paper overpowering the music in the desolate room. 
I’m sorry. I can’t keep trying. 
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JESSE
“What is going on?” I asked while pushing through the already open door, Michael following close behind.
Malcolm was trying his best to calm an erratic Noah, who wouldn’t stop pacing the room, drowning in the rainwater that clung to his shivering body. Chase was sitting on the couch with a relaxed Kuma laying in lap, while he was not. He had his phone pressed to his ear only to curse before redialling a number. 
“I have to get back out there!” 
Noah tried to push past Malcolm, only for him to shove him back. 
“Dude, look at you! You're soaked and shivering! It’s pouring outside, you need to dry off before you catch pneumonia,” Malcolm angrily threw his auburn curls up into a messy bun.
Noah’s eyes narrowed at him. “It’s Y/N! I need to find her!” 
About twenty minutes ago, Noah had called my phone in a frenzied state, rambling on about how Y/N is missing and he spent the last hour out in the rain looking for her. While everyone else had flown back home a few days ago, me, Michael, Chase and Malcolm hung back just in case Noah or Y/N needed anything. 
Suddenly, I was very thankful we did. 
“You tried, Noah! You were out in the rain for an hour. Chase had to drag you back inside,” Malcolm’s voice was raised but not nearly as high as Noah’s. 
“Fuck you!” Noah cursed, finally brushing past Malcolm, only to be stopped by Michale and I as we made a barrier in front of the door. 
I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. 
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I said as calmly as I could. 
I’d known Noah for years, lived with him just as long, and I also knew that the only way to reason with his stubbornness was with your own calm stubbornness. 
He tried to break through our barrier but Michael laid a firm hand on his chest, stopping him. 
“Y/N’s gone!” Noah exasperated while throwing a hand in the direction of the door. “There’s broken glass in the bedroom and she left me a note. I have to find her!”
I’d never seen him in this kind of state. His hair was a wild mess, even from the rain. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, showing he’d been crying. His lips were blue from how cold he was. But worst of all was the look of pure failure on his face. 
“You didn’t fail her, Noah,” I sighed while dropping my arms. 
He blinked. “I-I-fuck!” 
Michael stepped forward and rested two hands on Noah’s shoulders. “Look at me.” 
When he refused, Michael gripped Noah’s chin, forcing him. 
“You. Did. Not. Fail. Her.” Michael blew out his own shaky breath, it was killing both of us to see our friend like this. 
So broken. 
So defeated. 
I rarely ever saw Noah like this, the only times I knew of him having a panic attack, it was always Nicholas there to help him through it. But now, it was us. 
He let out an unsettling sob before he fell to his knees, letting out an earth shattering scream. All four of us watched him for a moment, allowing him to release the pent up frustration and anger he felt from the past week. Noah had held it together for Y/N, being there to catch her when she fell from her dad’s death, whereas no one had been there for him. He’d found himself in a deep hell and now, he woke up screaming with the realization that all he’d done to protect Y/N was for not. 
Noah was on his knees, body shivering from the chilled rain and now his cries, so I tentatively knelt in front of him. 
“Come on,” I spoke gingerly while placing my hands underneath his arms, ready to hoist him up. 
“She left me,” he sobbed, grabbing a hold of my shirt and was met with eyes filled with heartache. “She fucking left me. Again!”
Glancing over to Malcolm with narrowed eyes from underneath my hat, I waited for him to give me some sort of indication that Y/N had in fact not left Noah in that way; all she needed was some time to herself. 
Malcolm shared a look with Chase, who in turn shook his head. “She wouldn’t leave him. We all know that.” 
But I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice.
“There’s this fucking hole in my heart, Jesse!” Noah pounded his chest. “It’s that stupid shit Jolly always talked about, the soulmate crap. Y/N feels so far away and my soul is crying for her. It needs to find her because it can’t survive without her. After everything we’ve gone through, she still fucking left me. Why did she push me away? I was here for her, did she not realize that? I’d give up everything for her. But she just threw it all away!”
Noah was rambling a bunch of nonsense now, we all knew that. He didn’t mean any of it. Y/N and Noah’s love was pure as a fresh flower bud, trying to push through the heavy soil that dampred its growth. But once their souls find each other again, their love will be able to break through and flourish. 
Like it always did. 
“Come on,” I repeated again, this time now bringing Noah to his feet, albeit his head still hung low. “This is what you’re going-Noah, look at me.”
Reluctantly, he lifted his head. 
“You’re going to take a shower, try to eat something, and sit your ass on that couch. Snuggle up with Kuma. Write out your feelings. Play guitar. Mediate. Whatever fucking helps you calm down. Because when I find Y/N and bring her back, you need to have a clear head.”
Something flickered behind those dull eyes and I wiped away those lingering tears. 
“I promise you. I will find her and bring her back, alright?” 
When Noah didn’t say anything, I tapped his cheek with my hand causing him to grumble a few curses under his breath. 
“You didn’t have to smack me, asshole,” he rubbed at his face with the smallest of smiles. 
Feeling the grip of anxiety loosen a bit, I let out a long breath and nodded. Trying to pull Noah out of this current state wasn’t helping my own anxiety but I tried my best to not slip into that familiar feeling of dread. Noah needed all of us to be strong. 
“Micheal and I will go out to look for Y/N. You stay here with Chase and Malcolm, in case she comes back. 
As we took two steps towards the front door, Malcolm stopped me with a grip on my elbow, stopping me. Chase was keeping Noah preoccupied by forcing him to snuggle with Kuma. There was an immense fear clouding his emerald eyes as he ran a hand over his face. 
“Do you have any idea where to start?” He asked. 
I zipped up my jacket with a sigh. “Not a fucking clue. Her dad’s grave is too far on foot. The rental car is still here. Unless she took a cab.”
“There’s one place no one knows about, besides me,” Malcolm admitted while shifting on his feet. 
Michael slinked up beside me. “You’re just saying this now?!” 
I placed a hand on his chest, feeling his anger radiate into the air around us. We all were doing our best to remain in control but deep down, we were afraid for Y/N. 
“I didn’t think of it until now,” Malcolm sucked in a breath while averting his gaze for a few beats before locking it with mine. “There’s this garden about two blocks from here. Y/N and her dad went every morning when we were here last. It was where she had that conversation with her dad about Noah. Where he told her to go for it.”
With a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, Michael and I quickly left the house and into the rain towards the car. Following Malcolm’s instructions, Michael drove towards the garden and as we pulled up to an empty lot, I did my best to look through the windshield while the sky opened up with even more rain. 
“Shit. We’re going to have probably split up to find her. This place is huge,” Michael noted. 
Suddenly, I remembered something from the one Hollow Souls live streams Noah and I watched together years ago. A fan asked her where she liked to go when she needed time to think.
"Oh, that's easy," she answered with zero hesitation. "The rooftop of the venue we’re playing or the rooftop of my apartment. I love looking out at the vastness of the city almost like I'm Zeus staring down at all the other DemiGods."
“You stay in the car, make sure it’s warm. I have an idea where she’d be,” I said before leaving the car and gazed through the onslaught of the current storm. 
Thunder shook my bones as I ran through the garden looking for any kind of rooftop that Y/N could be sitting on. Minutes whizzed by as I stood there shivering, ready to give up hope, I saw the smallest of movements in the quick break of rain. There, less than ten feet in front of me, was Y/N sitting on top of a pergola with her knees pulled to her chest. 
“How the hell did she get up there?” I muttered to myself before taking off my hat to shake out the water from my curls. 
With a grunt, I willed my body up the scaffolding of the pergola and nearly slipped with how wet it was. 
This has to be illegal, right? Am I going to get thrown in jail for this? Is this disrespectful? Oh man, I’m going to get haunted by some kind of ghost. 
My knees shook when I stood to full height on the roof just as the storm started again. 
“Y/N!” I yelled over the thunder. 
Her head whipped up from being buried in her hands and the sight before me shattered me. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips blue from the outside chill, and worst of all was the look that mirrored Noah’s. 
Failure. 
“J-Jesse?” She choked on her words. “Wha-? How did you find me?” 
I extended a hand towards her. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm and dry.” 
Y/N frantically shook her hair, the wet strands of hair sticking to her face. “I can’t go back there, please don’t make me. I-I-can’t.”
Quickly, I had her in my arms as I sat next to her, feeling her body trembling against me; not sure if it was from the rain or the sobs that controlled her. Even though we were drenched, neither of us moved. 
“Sweetheart,” I cooed in her ear. “It’s alright.” 
Y/N latched onto me. “N-no, it’s not. Everything is so fucked up! My dad is buried in the ground and it’s all my fault.”
This time, I forced those broken eyes to look at me. 
“How is his death your fault, Y/N?” 
“He’d been calling me for weeks,” her bottom lip trembled. “Weeks! I ignored him because I was too caught up in my life and didn’t want to disturb it.” 
“Disturb it, how?” My brows furrowed. 
Droplets of rain fell from the rim of my hat, splashing down onto her lap along with her tears. 
“I was caught up in the bliss of everything; Noah, Hollow Souls, just life in general. I was afraid that he’d bring the same drama my mom had. All I wanted was to keep the bubble around me, protecting me from it all,” she cast her eyes down, ashamed. 
I brought her closer to me when I felt her shivering more now and rested my chin on top of her head. 
“Your dad has never been that way, sweetheart. You know that,” I reminded her. 
She wiped her nose against my shirt but I couldn’t be bothered. 
“I think deep down I knew something was wrong with him. The cough he had lasted way too long but I kept telling him to get it checked out. I thought he was ignoring me. So I guess I got tired of pushing something on him when he didn’t want it. Subconsciously, I began pushing myself away hoping he’d realize how upset I was with him not getting himself checked out, when in reality-.”
Her words trailed off, unable to finish, but she didn’t have too. I knew what Y/N was going to say. 
“He fought for his life as long as he could, sweetheart. I promise you that he never meant to leave you like this,” I assured her.
“Why did he have to die? My dad left me broken and alone with a long life,” her voice was muffled against my chest. 
I rubbed circles against her back, feeling the indents of bones against my palm and it was then I realized how drastically her dad’s death affected her. Noah mentioned that Y/N stopped eating days ago and with the dark circles under her eyes, it was evident she hadn’t been sleeping either. Shew was skin and bones, starved for the light of the everglow.
“I miss him so much, Jesse. I want him back with me. I went to his grave first to scream at him for leaving me like this. Digging in the dirt hoping he would resurface. All of the light is gone, just darkness. My body is numb with coming undone. Why did it have to be him?” 
I lifted her legs so she could sit completely in my lap. “Your dad loved you so much, Y/N. I know you’re hurting right now and it’s going to take some time to get rid of that anger but it’s normal. I know you're tired now but you can't keep running because you’re terrified you won't see your dad on the other side. The only thing you have to remember is to not let that anger consume you and destroy everything good in your life. You cannot let it overcome the light.” 
She sniffled and nodded. “I know. I pushed away so many of you, ignoring everyone. Astrid has been texting me wondering how I am but I don’t know what to say because I just don’t understand how I should feel. Chase and Malcolm have tried to get me out of my dad’s house the last few days but I leave them on read because I’m so tired. It physically hurts me to move out of bed.”
The rain began to let up as Y/N took a deep breath, it was unsteady and broken. 
“Noah,” she cried. “Fuck. Noah. I kept pushing him away when all he has done is take care of me!” 
She pushed away from me with a start. “Oh my god, Jesse! I left him. I promised him I would never leave him like that again but I did! He must hate me, I can’t believe-.”
I gently cupped her cheeks, brushing away the tears, and she was cold to the touch, falling alone like snow. 
“Hey, stop. Noah does not hate you. He’s worried about you. He spent the last two hours out in the rain searching for you. If anything Y/N, you scared the shit out of him. But he doesn’t hate you.” 
Her shoulders fell. “I left behind such a mess. I can’t imagine what was going through his mind when he saw the glass in the bedroom.”
“What exactly happened?” I wondered. 
Y/N gnawed on her bottom lip, ripping away the dead skin. “I felt disgusted for what I tried to do to Noah. I almost forced him to take advantage of me because I needed to forget about this pain. How could I have done that?” 
I didn’t answer, simply let her continue on. “I found myself staring at my reflection with revulsion so I punched the mirror. It shattered everywhere and I sliced my hand pretty good.” 
Tenderly turning it over in my hand, I cringed when I saw the various cuts along her knuckles. Faintly, I could see dirt underneath her fingernails and my heart sank with the image of her digging at her fathers grave. The blood had been washed away from the rain but I knew that her hand needed to be bandaged up in case the wounds opened up again. 
“Sweetheart, you weren’t in the right headspace. Noah would never hold any of this against you. He loves you, he just wants you back safely with him.” 
Dull eyes stared up at me. “I owe him an apology.” 
“Why don’t we get you back to the house first, yeah?” I suggested just as the rain began to slow. 
Y/N didn’t say anything, only nodded, which was enough to raise her up with me just like I had done to Noah before. 
“Jesse?”
Her voice was meek as she reached for my arms, holding onto them with all her might. 
“Hm?” I hummed. 
Our gazes locked for a long beat and gradually the light that was Y/N began to shine through the clouds that blocked her mind. 
“I love you. Thank you for being here,” she wrapped her arms around me in a vice grip, nearly knocking me off my feet. 
With a quiet laugh, I kissed the top of her head in the way a brother would his little sister. 
“I love you too, kid.” 
Playfully, she pushed me away. “Kid? You’re only four years older than me.” 
With a shrug, I then helped her down the rooftop of the pergola and once we were back on solid ground, Michael came running up to us nearly knocking Y/N to the ground now when he wrapped his arms around her. 
“Don’t ever do that again, Y/N! You scared the shit out of everyone!” he chastised her once her feet were stable on the concrete again. 
She cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry. I never meant too. I was lost and needed to try and find myself.” 
Michael nodded in her embrace. “You’re like a sister to me, to all of us. When you’re hurting, we all are. We just want to make sure you’re alright.” 
“I know. I am now.” 
Tears pooled in her eyes before Michael wrapped her underneath his arm and began leading her back to the car, me following close behind. But upon closer inspection of Y/N, I noticed something peculiar. 
“Y/N?” I pulled them to a stop. “Where’s your shoe?” 
She pursed her lips as a red hue covered her cheeks and looked down at the foot that didn’t have a shoe covering it. “Oh, well-uh-I tripped while running from the cemetery to this garden and it fell down a sewer drain; along with my phone.”
Michael and I shared a look before we burst out into a fit of laughter, us doubling over. Y/N rested her hands on her hips with the hope to be upset with us finding the whole thing hilarious, until her own laughter filled the air thick with humidity due to the previous storm. 
With every precious laughter that emanated from Y/N, it was as if her soul was beginning to glow bright again. The light around her halo flickering back to life as the sun broke through the clouds; a sign from somewhere that everything would be alright.
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NOAH
My mind was a mess of emotions, all leading me to think of the worst things of what happened to Y/N. Most of all, it demanded that I push past Chase who’d been guarding the door to find her myself. Jesse and Michael had been gone for quite some time, meaning they had yet to find her. I’d been so worried about her that I had yet to change out of my still soaked clothes that had barely dried, much to the dismay of Malcolm who continued to mutter under his breath that I was leaving puddles all over the floor.
It would be better if I went out there again. Maybe this time I could go a different route and-.
Suddenly the front door clicked open causing me and Kuma to pause our pacing of the floor and through the hazy vision of tears, I watched as Michael walked in, followed by Jesse who was holding a shivering Y/N against him. The sight of her like that stole all the air from my lungs as I let out a choked breath, the vice grip that was entangled around my heart from the moment I read the note finally began to loosen and we both stood there for a beat of silence, simply staring at one another. 
Kuma barked happily before trotting over to Y/N, pawing at her leg yet her eyes never left mine.
I swallowed the burn in my throat while blinking away the tears and then all at once, we both ran to each other and as soon as our souls connected, it felt like the earth shifted around us. All evening while she’d been gone, the earth was off its axis but now that Y/N was in my arms again, all was right in our universe. 
“Angel,” I brushed away the hair from her face. “Are you alright?” 
She nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and she slipped her shivering hands underneath my shirt to claw at the skin of my back. 
“I am so fucking sorry for walking out like that. We promised each other we wouldn’t, we would talk about things, but I broke that promise and I’m so sorry. I couldn’t keep trying, I felt like I was failing everyone, especially myself. I-I-couldn’t do it anymore.”
“It’s okay, angel. Just breathe. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’ve got you now. You’re back. You came back,” I assured her while cupping her cheeks. 
Those eyes I loved so much were wet with tears as her bottom lip trembled with her sobs. 
“I’ll always come back to you, Noah. Always,” she vowed with a graze of her lips across my jaw.
Reluctantly, I let her slip from my embrace to allow Chase and Malcolm to check her over while I brought Jesse and Michael in for a tight hug, thanking them for bringing her back to me. Soon, the four of them left, leaving Y/N and I alone with Kuma who continued to paw at her leg. 
“He was worried too,” I motioned to the dog. 
She bent low to her knees to scoop up Kuma, holding his warmth to her chest. “I’m sorry I scared you sweet baby. I’m sure Noah took good care of you.”
While she didn’t change her mind about taking the dog to the shelter once we leave, it still warmed my heart to see that she was now warming up to Kuma. 
Speaking of warming up.
“Let’s go take a shower before we both get sick,” I said while linking fingers with her to lead her to the bathroom. 
“I should clean up the glass,” she sighed as we stepped through the door of the bedroom but was shocked to see it already clean. 
“Chase,” I informed. “It helped him to keep his mind focused on something other than where you were.” 
She hummed while resting her chin on my bicep to gaze up at me. “I scared all of you, huh?” 
I brushed a kiss across her forehead. “All that matters is that you’re back, angel.”
While the shower warmed up, steam slowly filling up the small space, I helped Y/N out of her clothes as it clung to her like a second skin and she did the same for me. Her nails dragged over the tattoos on my chest, down my abdomen, over to my arms and I shivered under her caress. When I took a hold of her hands, I frowned seeing the dirt under her nails and the scabbed over cuts along her knuckles. 
Not saying a word, I placed my hands on her hips and brought her into the shower with me. The warm water immediately ease away the chill that hung to our bones as I switched out positions so Y/N was directly underneath the spray. Her head tilted back, exposing her neck to me, and she let out a soft moan; the noise causing my cock to twitch. I ignored the fire burning in my gut though to reach beside Y/N and grabbed her shampoo bottle. 
My fingers worked the shampoo through the dark strands of her hair, working out whatever knots she received from the rain. She hummed as I massaged her scalp and kept her hands low on my hips, bringing us closer together. The only sounds were the water running over our bodies, down to the drain beneath our feet, and her soft giggles as I dragged my fingers down over her neck. Reaching up now, I pulled the shower head off of its hook and tilted her head back a bit further so I could rinse all of the soap out of her hair. As the conditioner sat for a few minutes longer than the shampoo did, I quickly stepped out of the shower to rummage around in the drawers of the vanity, water droplets splashing to the tiled floor. 
“Mochi! You’re getting water all over the floor!” 
Ignoring her scolding, I stood back in the shower and held her hand in one of mine, the other with a grip on a pointed nail file. 
“Oh, a manicure?” She teased. 
Giving her a playful glare, I began using the sharp end of the file to dig out the dirt underneath her nails as she stood there, watching. I didn’t need her to tell me what happened as I had a pretty good guess. 
Once the dirt was clean from her nails, I set the file down on the shelf in the shower and went about rinsing the conditioner from her hair before washing her body, taking my time around her most sensitive parts. As much as I wanted to feel her body against mine in that way, it wasn't needed tonight. We needed to come together in a different way. 
After Y/N was clean, she motioned for me to switch with her and now it was her turn to wash me. Although, watching as she tried to reach for my hair with soap all over her hands was a cute sight so I got on my knees, eye level with her stomach. While she washed my hair, I dragged a hand up and down her thigh, feeling the skin prickle from my touch. 
“You need a haircut,” she noted. 
I hummed in agreement, the noise rumbling in my chest, and I peered up at her. “It’s almost back to the wolf cut length.” 
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Y/N shrugged while rinsing the conditioner from my hair and tapped my shoulder so I could rise to my feet. 
While resting on one knee, I paused for a moment as the now lukewarm water ran down both of us, and took in the sight of her. What used to be broken and dull had drastically changed in a matter of minutes. Thoughts of our redo date came fluttering to the forefront of my mind as I remained on one knee, the question I’d be desperate to ask weighing heavy on my tongue now. But internally I shook my head, knowing that it wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait until I received a sign. 
Instead, I pushed myself up to my feet so Y/N could wash my body and as her hand grazed over my cock, I let my forehead fall to her shoulder. It had been so long since she touched me like this, the moment earlier today nothing compared to now. Earlier it was distressed but now, her touch was fuelled with the need to feel me against her; prove to her that her soul wasn’t dead inside. 
“Y/N,” I panted when her fingers wrapped around me, pumping my cock slowly. “I-shit.”
I craved her like an addiction and I was ready to let go, allowing us to fall together as we always did. Only we were interrupted by rapid barking and scratching at the bathroom door, causing Y/N to shake with laughter. 
“Kuma probably needs dinner,” I grumbled. 
“Dinner actually sounds good right now. I’m starving,” Y/N pressed a kiss to my lips, one I wasn’t quite ready to let go of yet. 
Brushing my tongue along her bottom lip, I devoured them with my own starvation. Her hands linked behind my necks and she stood on her toes to lean into me even more. Everything around us fell away and my heart beat was almost non existence as it was whenever we kissed. I found myself becoming lost in her aura, dragged deep within the depths exactly like the moment our fates were sealed that very first time our eyes locked.  
I kept reaching for her, any inch of skin my nails could dig into to bring her closer to me. I needed to feel her heart against mine, syncing our heartbeats together, and she moaned into the kiss, it quickly being swallowed by my tongue. 
“I love you,” I breathed as we pulled away. 
Y/N pulled me in for another kiss, almost as if it was breathing life back into her and she needed more. Her lips captured the water hanging on my bottom lip and I nearly folded in her embrace. 
“I love you too, Noah. I’m sorry my grief caused me to pull away from you. You didn’t deserve that side of me,” her voice quavered. 
I twirled her hair between my fingers with a small smile. “What is grief if not love persevering.”
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READER
Blowing my nose into the Kleenex, I wrapped my dad’s cardigan closer to my body as I dragged my slippers down the long hallway back towards the kitchen where I heard Noah rummaging around in the cupboards, most likely feeding Kuma. 
“Hi sweet boy,” I murmured while reaching down and petting him between the ears. 
“Hi yourself,” Noah smirked before setting the full bowl in front of Kuma. 
When he noticed the sweater, he raised a brow and I shrugged. “It’s my dad’s. It still smells like him.”
With a kiss to the side of my head, Noah then motioned to the couch in the living room. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Actually,” I nibbled on my lips, trying to find the courage to do something that had been plaguing me the second we stepped foot into my dads house all those days ago. “I want to read my dad’s letter. I think we both should read them, if you want to.”
Noah paused, wiping down the counter, mere inches from the two letters that remained untouched, and his face gave nothing away. It made me nervous that I might have pushed something on him that he wasn’t ready for. I know it surprised both of us that my dad left a letter to not only me, but Noah as well. 
“Should we read them together?” He tentatively reached for the letters and handed mine toward me. 
Holding it close to my chest, I nodded back down the hallway. “I think-I think I’m going to read it in my dad’s room.”
Something flickered in his eyes as he tapped his letter on the inside of his hand. “Whatever you want, angel.”
After leaving him and Kuma together on the couch, I stood outside the door to my fathers room and with a few deep breaths, I gripped the handle and slowly pushed it open. The room was cloaked in darkness, the moonlight barely breaking through the curtains that covered both sets of windows, so I clicked on the light. I blinked a few times before taking in the sight of his room. It was exactly how I remembered it from the last time I visited him; even his bed was made and untouched. Until I slipped underneath the blankets, his scent wrapping around me in a tight embrace. 
Taking a deep breath, I opened up the envelope to pull out the letter, my dad’s familiar hand writing drawing a choked sob from my lips. There’d been a reason why I’d been putting off reading the letter because it meant that he was actually gone. But now, I needed to know what he said. 
Buttercup, 
If you’re reading this it means that I’m gone. I am so sorry you had to find out this way that I was sick but I didn’t want you to worry about me. Your life is flourishing with Hollow Souls and Noah, the last thing you needed was to worry. I am so proud of the woman you’ve grown into even if I did have to watch from afar after the divorce. Please know I never held your choice of staying with your mother against you. I understood why you felt the need too but I am glad that you still kept your relationship with me. You will forever be my little girl. My buttercup. 
Speaking of relationships, make sure to hold that Noah boy close because from what I’ve seen and heard, he loves you very much. You need someone in your life that will take care of you and will cherish all the moments you two share. I knew from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together a couple years ago that he was in love with you. He’s a good man, buttercup. Don’t let him go.
Although, I am still shocked about Chase and Malcolm. Were they together when you visited last? All is well, I suppose. Good for them. 
Now, if you’re in my house reading this, that means you’ve met Kuma. He’s a three month old Akita puppy and shouldn’t grow to be more than 40 lbs, at least that's what the guy at the shelter told me. I adopted him as a way to celebrate beating cancer the first time around but now that it’s back and spread to seventy percent of my body, I think it’s best if Kuma goes home with you and Noah. Hopefully he won't be too much of a nuisance to Salem but I have a feeling they’ll get along well. 
Please don’t let the grief of my passing overcome you, buttercup. Don’t let the anger consume you to do something drastic. Your heart is too pure for that. Lean on others as they are there to help you. Remember me in the way I would sit in the chair in the living room, my glasses nearly falling off my nose, as I buried it into a book. Or the time we went to that manga shop down the road and you swore one of the characters looked like Noah, if he had his hair that length. Although, now I bet he does since his hair is shorter than the last time. 
Does that length bother him? Or was he able to go on stage all those times with his hair down to his back? Was he not sweating? 
Anyway, I’m rambling, even in a letter. But before I end it, I wanted to say how much I love you and will always be proud of you for whatever you accomplish with your life. Hollow Souls has come back from the brink of collapse after you kicked out that asshole, pardon my language, and you’ve proven to everyone that this is your band. This is what you were made for, buttercup. Continue to light up the world around you and don’t let anyone dull your light. 
I’ll be with you in spirit, Y/N. Please don’t ever forget that. 
Take care of yourself, Kuma, and Noah. Because that man will do whatever it takes to keep you happy. You’re the one for him, buttercup. 
I’ll be shining light on your path and remember, it can’t rain all the time.
Love, Dad xx. 
My sobs echoed throughout the quiet space of the bedroom as I read the letter again and again, imagining my dad sitting at the desk across from me, pen scratching against paper. 
“I miss you so fucking much, dad,” I cried out while holding the paper against my chest. 
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or if Noah was finished reading his letter because as I lay under the covers of my dad’s bed, I let the familiar feeling of his spirit around me lull me into a much needed slumber that was long overdue.
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NOAH
As I lay on the couch with Kuma snoring next to me, I scratched at his belly with one hand while the other worked out a text message to Jesse and Michael. 
To Roommates: 
Me: I hope you guys know Kuma is coming home with us. 
Michael: We had a feeling so we sent Tay out to pick up whatever things you guys would need. 
Jesse: My girlfriend was very excited to go shopping for not only Kuma but Salem as well. I guess she bought him a lot of toys and maybe a cat condo that I have no idea where we’re going to go with it.
I chuckled at the picture Jesse sent next of Salem on top of the new cat condo that stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. 
Me: I never thought I’d miss Salem this much. 
Michael: Honestly, me too.
Jesse: How’s Y/N?
Me: Good, really good. She fell asleep in her dad’s bed. I peaked in on her a bit ago. I’m going to let her sleep there tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow of packing up her fathers stuff and shipping out what we're bringing back while we sell the rest along with the house.
We chatted for a few more minutes before I decided that it was now time for me to read the letter. Setting my phone to the side of the couch, I fiddled with the envelope in my hands. While I had a feeling my letter would drastically be different than Y/N’s, part of me feared what it said. 
Unbeknownst to her, I actually reached out to her dad a couple of weeks ago but was only met with his voicemail where I left my question. I hated it that it had to be done that way, but there was no other choice. 
As I ripped open the envelope, my phone buzzed next to me with a notification of a new email; one I didn’t read the name of. But it flashed brightly in the somewhat darkened room, the name almost urging me to look. With the now open letter in my hand, the familiar name continued to flash on my phone. 
Keaton. 
But it was the four simple words written on the piece of paper that held my attention, making my heart soar into my throat, causing me to nearly fall off of the couch. The two signs I'd been desperate for finally showcasing themselves.
You have my blessing.
253 notes · View notes
yapperblog · 22 days
Text
Belongings
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Tags: established relationship, smut with tiny bit of plot, +18
Explicit RPF below don't interact if you are not comfortable with that
You watch Joost take things out of his pockets and put on the top of your dresser while he tells you about his day. The gesture is so simple, yet so intimate. You love seeing his belongings around your apartment, it serves as a little reminder that he is really yours.
He turns to you briefly and smiles to himself mid sentence at the fact that you are watching him so intently from your bed, already in your pyjamas. Your bed looks so warm and comfortable, it has been a miserable rainy day, he can't wait to get in and nestle into your waiting arms. His favorite place in the world.
He takes off his puffy jacket and leaves it on the chair nearby, revealing the hoodie he is wearing underneath. He throws his hat onto the same chair and runs a hand through his hair to tame it after wearing a hat all day. You see him reach into his pockets, taking out his phone, wallet, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter and random receipts he collected throughout the day, leaving it all on your dresser. You smile listening to him to talk and the sound of clatter.
He also puts the keys to your apartment next to the assortment of his belongings. You gave him the keys a couple of months ago, so that he could come over any time he wants or if you accidentally fall asleep waiting for him after a long day of working in the studio or traveling and he could still come in. He prefers coming straight to you instead of sleeping alone at his own place and coming over in the morning. He sleeps so much better in your embrace and especially after long hours he needs it. He put the keys you gave him on his own keychain next to all of his own, and added a charm which reminds him of you.
"There is leftover dinner in the kitchen, if you want." you say as he takes off his watch and rubs his wrist.
"We ordered takeaway to the studio, but thank you." he turns to look at you and smiles. Even a small gesture of offering him dinner wakes up the butterflies in his stomach. He loves being taken care of, knowing you cooked having him in mind spreads a warm feeling all over his body. He asks about your day, and while you tell him, he continues to undress watching you talk explaining something with your hands. He takes off his hoodie and it leaves him only in a tight white tank top and jeans.
You try to continue telling your story without stumbling over words, while he is leaning against your dresser, nodding listening you, his hard nipples and chest hair visible through the tank top. He truly is the most beautiful person you have ever laid your eyes own, not only is it difficult to talk under his gaze, you try not to drool at the sight before you.
"My eyes are up here." he points to his eyes with two fingers and laughs. He starts to take off his jeans, undoing the belt and zipper slowly, looking into your eyes, pulling it down his thighs slowly.
You whistle as if catcalling him as a joke. "Really hard to keep my eyes up there, hot stuff."
You've been together for quite some time now, but it never gets old seeing him undress before you. He turns around and folds the jeans putting them on the same chair his other clothes are piled on. You take the opportunity to admire how good his ass looks. As much as he loves giving you a light spank on your bottom in private when you walk past, you are obsessed with his as much.
He tries to act so tough and laugh it off, but you see him blush. At the same time your comments and seeing how much you love his body feeds his confidence and makes him bolder.
"Kind of unfair you are all covered under the blanket, don't you think?" he takes off his glasses and comes to stand at the end of the bed, as he takes off the tank top leaving him only in black Polo Ralph Lauren boxer briefs. His tattoos now on full display for you.
You move the blanket, feeling the cold air in the room invade your body, you pat the bed next to you inviting him in, your arms open. He moves quickly into your embrace, puts his arms tightly around you, and buries his head into your neck. You hear him let out a breath, tickling your neck.
"So nice to finally be back." he murmurs into your skin, you feel his body relax as he puts more of his weight on you. He faintly smells of a drink he must have had earlier and cigarettes. You wrap your arms around him, enjoying the feel and smell of him. One of your hands slowly moves in circles on his back, while the other is tangled in his hair. You notice how long it has gotten and remember the time when he asked if you could cut his hair during quarantine, when you were still friends and came to a mutual conclusion that you will stay at his apartment, because you both couldn't bear the thought of not seeing each other daily. You butchered the haircut horribly and it makes you chuckle at the memory.
He lifts his head, studying your face. His eyes are blazing, it might be a trick of the warm light coming from the bedside lamp, but you still feel the heat coming off of him. His gaze drops to your lips. He licks his own and leans in to kiss you. His soft lips touch yours and you melt under him, savouring the feeling. You can't help but moan as he moves you even closer to him, not leaving an inch of space between you. He angles his head to deepen the kiss, his moustache tickling your upper lip. As he moves on top of you, your pyjama top rides up a little and you feel his soft stomach press into yours.
"Did you miss me?" he asks as he pulls away.
You pretend to think, tapping your finger on your chin. "Umm. No, I didn't." you joke to tease him.
Corners of his lips turn into a smirk. "Yeah?"
He moves his leg to slip in between yours, slotting it perfectly against you. You stiffen a moan feeling his thigh stimulate you slightly, your arms tighten around his shoulders.
"Didn't miss me at all?" his arm moves under your top, slowly caressing your waist. His hand is still a little cold against your warm skin and it leaves a trace of goosebumps under his touch. He sees your eyes get darker with need.
You need more of him, you lean in to kiss him, but he leans away just out of your reach. "No no, admit it." he says a teasing note in his voice and smiles, a dimple revealing itself.
"You are unbelievable." you laugh and are once again proven that you can never out-tease him. He always wins in that game. "I missed you so much" you put your hands on the sides of his face and bring him closer, placing kisses on both his cheeks. "So so much" a kiss to his forehead. He is basking in your affection, his eyes closed, fully enjoying your words and actions. He jokes that he wants to hear you say that you missed him, but in reality he actually craves confirmation, even though in his heart he knows the truth already.
Your lips finally reach his. With a self-satisfied look he leans in closer whispering "That's right." His mouth catches yours roughly as he covers your body with his. You moan at the pressure and his hands tighten on your waist. Your lips part for his tongue, the tang of the drink he had and the taste of cigarettes tangling pleasantly in your mouth, because this taste belongs to him.
It feels like you are dissolving, turning into liquid under him. His mouth moves down your jaw, over your throat. Your hands scrape through his blonde hair, a little damp because he must have gotten caught in the rain outside. He lets out a low groan, his hand moving up to your chest, fingers brushing over your nipple. He keeps squeezing your boob with one hand, pinching and twisting your nipple, making your back arch, his leg which is still in between yours, adding delicious pressure.
He undoes the top buttons of your pyjama top to reveal your chest to him and continues to kiss lower down your neck, your collarbones, chest. "So beautiful" he says in between kisses finally reaching the neglected nipple, he wraps his lips around it sucking into his mouth. Your breath hitches and hands skim up his back, fingernails sinking into his warm smooth skin.
A loud moan escapes you. He doesn't tease you for it, it only urges him on further. You want him to see you like this and know he is the reason why. His hands move slowly to your sides, pressing himself flush against you, he starts to help you move against his leg slotted in between your legs. He feels how wet you got through your panties, a low hum rumbles through him.
"So wet for me already" his mouth moves to the side of your throat, teeth sinking into your collarbone. "You should not miss me more often."
Your laugh dies in your throat as he rolls his hips against your side, friction of his stomach and hard cock electric. "I bet I could slip right in already." his hand moves down your stomach, his hand looks big splayed on you, it makes your pussy clench at the thought. He stops at the waistband of your panties, looking up at you asking for permission.
"Please, Joost, don't stop." you whine giving him a green flag.
His fingers move past the waistband, reaching exactly where you need him, through your folds, feeling how wet you are. His finger enters you, feeling you squeeze tightly. He starts to move inside you, making scissoring motions and adding a second finger to stretch you and get ready for him. In return, you reach between you and palm him through his boxers. You want to feel him hot and bothered for you too.
"Fuck." he hisses, his head tilting back at your touch. You reach into his boxers, wrapping your hand around him, feeling his hard and heavy cock, tip already leaking pre-cum. You've always loved how much your pleasure turns him on. He groans as he moves himself within your hand.
You push his boxers down, and continue to stroke him with one hand.
"I want you inside of me." you say, your voice raspy from how worked up he got you.
He nods quickly and stands up to take off his underwear fully, at the same time you take off your top and panties, laying down ready for him. He crawls in bed, maintaining eye contact, until he settles in between your legs.
"I want you so bad." you say to him, encouraging him to continue.
"I love hearing you say it." he confesses, but you already knew it.
He moves his hand up and down his length a couple of times and leans in to line himself up with your hole and finally pushes into you. Slowly, carefully, his face only inches from yours. As much as he loves being adventurous with you in bed, trying new positions, missionary on days like this, when the thought of you wouldn't leave his head all day, seeing you so wet and ready for him, is all he wants.
As you move together, it is as if the world around you stops, you hear the rain drops hit against the window, but you are sure no one else exists in this moment, only the two of you.
His hands try to touch you everywhere at once, yours splayed across his shoulders. He looks into your eyes, trying to reach your soul. He thrusts deeper, harder.
"Fuck, Joost."
"Too much?" he asks, slowing.
You shake your head no, he understands and continues with no restraint.
"I thought about you all day." you say. "Thought about touching myself at the memory of us together. But I didn't, I was waiting for you." your voice breathy, from his thrusts.
Your words make his head spin. He can't believe you want him as much as he wants you. You feel him twitch inside of you. You don't want this moment to ever end.
"But even my imagination wouldn't be as good as this" you say. Your voice and confessions make it so hard for him to last.
"You are perfect." He leans in to kiss you. "Get on your hands and knees for me."
He helps you turn around, easily moving your body. He lines up and pushes back into you. You brace yourself on your arms, in this position he can reach even deeper, setting a steady pace. The sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping filling the room. You can feel the bulge forming in your stomach how deep he is in you.
One of his stays on your hip moving you as he wants, the other wraps around your torso to reach you clit, he starts to draw fast circles and your arms give out, your back arching for even a better angle for the both of you.
"You feel so good around me." he says, voice strained, thrusts getting harder and faster, his own peak nearing.
You bury your face into the pillow and let out a loud moan "Fuckfuckfuck, I'm cuming." as you reach your climax, he feels you squeeze impossibly tight around him. Something about this night, being so needy for him all day, watching him undress, seeing his belongings in every corner of your apartment made your climax the strongest in a while.
He manages a few more thrusts, his chest now pressed to your back, both hands holding your hips, chasing his own release. You are glad he is holding you, otherwise your legs would have given up too. With a low groan pressed tightly against you feel him release into you, as his thrusts come to a gradual stop, as he stuffs his cum inside of you.
He massages your asscheeks and starts to pull out, seeing your mixed release, trickle down your thigh.
He wants to keep it all in, but knows how overstimulated you must be, so he doesn't, instead he plops down next to you.
You put your head on his chest, which is now sticky with sweat, but you don't mind. You kiss his hairy chest, looking up at him, your eyes full of love for him.
He reaches down to kiss you, but he starts smiling so wide, it turns into a clash of teeth. You both laugh and then settle into comfortable silence, as you listen to his steady heartbeat and he draws mindless patterns on your arm with his fingers, enjoying the closeness.
"I am actually really keen on the leftover dinner." he says. "I just wanted you first."
He feels you laugh against his stomach. "Let's get cleaned up and then eat" you suggest.
245 notes · View notes
gemini-sensei · 2 months
Text
New Neighbor | Jaime Reyes x Plus-Sized!Reader
Requested ● Fem!Artist!Reader
CW: 18+, minor blood and injury, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, Scarabs being Scarabs, Reader's scarab is like an overprotective older sibling, pregnancy, strangers to friends to lovers, probably more. (unedited)
A/N: I added some details to this that weren't in the og ask. They just kind of slipped in there, so I hope that's okay. I also gave the other scarab the name Rami because it was all I could think of.
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It started off as being neighborly. Nothing more, nothing less, but it was enough for Jaime and Reader to notice each other. She was moving into the apartment next to his and he offered to help her move some boxes in. She was curvy and capable, seeming to lift the boxes without any trouble, but he was a gentleman and he'd still offer no matter what. The least he could do was hold the door open for her, but she smiled and accepted his offer.
"It'll move things along a lot faster," she laughed.
Once all the boxes and furniture were in her apartment, he offered her something to drink from his place since she didn't have much more than some convenience store bottles and snacks. She accepted and they spent an hour talking, getting to know each other. He worked as a law consultant for Kord Industries while she was a waitress at a new restaurant in the city. They talked about their families and why they decided to live in the city, both agreeing that it was easier to get to their jobs that way. Reader admitted that waitressing was just a temporary thing because she had bigger dreams of being an artist.
Then she had to leave to get ready for work. As soon as she was gone, Khaji Da started:
"Based off of your elevating blood pressure and hormone levels, I can tell you're highly attracted to Reader," it said.
Jaime groaned as his face began to burn. "Don't say stuff like that!"
"It's the truth," it said, continuing its analysis of what just happened without missing a beat. "I'll need to collect more data, but it appears the two of you would be compatible together."
"I'm not having this conversation with you," he told it, shaking his head. He cleaned up the glassware and pushed Khaji Da's ideas out of his mind, at least as much as he could.
In the apartment next to his, Reader was having the opportunity conversation with the pink alien weapon that had attached itself to her over a year ago.
"I don't like him," her Scarab, who'd chosen the name Rami to go by, said. Only she could hear its voice, which didn't bother her much. If anyone else could hear what it said, they'd be offended. It was fiercely protective of her, usually warning her about all sorts of people and their supposed intentions. Reader had gotten used to blocking it out when necessary. "He's hiding something."
"Everyone is entitled to their secrets," Reader told it, stripping down to get in the shower. "Like me. I have you to hide from the world."
"This is true, however, I do not like this Jaime character. He's too nice and obviously hiding something bigger than you think," Rami said. Though its voice was monotonous, it used every word smartly to get its point across.
Reader thought of Rami as somewhat of a brother figure despite it being a sexless war weapon that had bonded to her every fiber of being. She mostly thought this because of the masculine tone it had. The authoritative nature of its words and knowledge lended itself to the idea. It constantly reminded her of its engineered origins so as to not humanize it but she constantly reminded it that it cared for her, which was a human emotion. so, no matter human or biomechanical, they were complex beings.
However, its constant nagging over guys made her wonder why she had to be the chosen one. Why did she have to have a scarab attached to her back? What had she done that made Rami so sure it wanted her as its host? All questions she had asked herself before with little to no answers to be given. She let it be, accepting that this was her life and she'd keep it to herself, because surely there wasn't anyone else who could possibly understand her situation.
Over the next month, Reader and Jaime crossed paths now and again. They saw each other in the hallway or elevator up to their apartments, while getting the mail, or on the balconies right next to each other. They exchanged hello's or see-you-later's, sometimes more than that. Each time she saw him, Reader was a little more smitten by him. Each time he saw her, Jaime fell a little more for her. However, their schedules didn't always align.
Jaime's job, and his cover, as Kord Industries' law consultant, took up his mornings and sometimes his nights. He constantly helped his friend Jenny with something related to the company or the crime rampant throughout the city. He didn't mind, of course, he was being paid to help run tests even though he didn't always understand what they were doing. Reader worked evenings and nights. She raked in tips like no other waiter or waitress at her job, but she always came home tired from the constant pleasantries even if some customers had been rude to her. She kept smiling but after a particularly bad night where she'd gotten yelled at by a man for supposedly giving him the wrong drink on purpose (despite that being what he ordered the first time), she thought about quitting. Especially after Rami wanted to start a fight with the man, not that anyone else knew about that.
On her Saturday off, Reader was sitting on her balcony with a book and a lemonade. The sun was shining bright and it seemed like a night day to just relax, take things easy, and breathe. Jaime, unaware that she was outside and his door was open, was having a small spat with Khaji Da. It had decided to bring up Reader again, finished with it's "data collection" and it had come to the determination that Reader was the perfect "mate" for Jaime.
"You can't just say stuff like that! Do you understand how strange that sounds?" he asked, having been taken off guard by the statement.
Reader looked up, wondering who he was talking to. Sometimes she heard him talking to someone occasionally, but she just assumed that he was talking on the phone since he lived on his own. However, she'd never heard him arguing with them before and it seemed to be in intense one at that.
After a few more minutes of the back and forth, trying to explain to Khaji that certain words shouldn't be used to describe a relationship, he walked out onto the balcony for some fresh air. He was startled to find Reader sitting on the balcony next to his, though he didn't know why. It was her's, she could sit there all damn day if she wanted to. He just hoped he didn't just sound crazy to her.
"Everything okay?" she asked softly.
He nodded, leaning on the railing. "Yeah, everything's fine."
She smiled. "Were you on the phone with your sister?"
He nodded almost too quickly. "Yeah, she's always trying to tell me what to do in the weirdest way possible."
Reader laughed softly, but let it die down as Rami spoke to her; "He's lying."
She wanted to tell it to shut up but bit her tongue. Instead, she spoke to Jaime. "Well, advice from others is usually only that. Advice. The only thing you can really do is decide what you want. No one else can do that for you."
He nodded. "You're right, as usual."
They talked across their balconies like that until they couldn't. He had other engagements to attend to as lunchtime approached. She slipped back into her apartment once he was gone, which was when she called Rami out.
"You can't keep doing this," she mumbled, shaking her head. "He's a great guy. He hasn't done anything to us, so you can't go making assumptions about him."
"He's a liar," Rami stated, almost like a stubborn child. "Do not trust him so easily, Reader."
She rolled her eyes and started prepping to make lunch.
That night, she was watching TV. The news was rampant with coverage about a nasty bank robbery that had taken place downtown. Luckily, only a few people were hurt and were recovering in the hospital thanks to the local hero Blue Beetle. He'd seemingly swooped in just in time to rescue the hostages, take out the robbers, and ensure everyone's safety. The robbery had started not long after 1pm and things were only just beginning to cool down as night settled.
As Reader switched from the news to something a little more upbeat and cheery, a noise came from the balcony. She stood up and took a defensive stance facing the door, Rami ready to armor her if need be. She'd pulled the curtain over the door because the morning sun was a bitch, so she couldn't see outside. However, they were on the fourth floor. No one should be on the balcony. Reader was convinced the news had just gotten into her head a little bit and that there was nothing to worry about.
Except when the door began to open. Reader gave the command in a low voice, "Hands."
Rami armored her hands so she could easily make a weapon to defend herself with. A bat was easy enough and formed between her palms as soon as she thought of it.
The figure was walking into the room, pushing the curtain out. They were slow, easing their way into the dark apartment. Reader quietly made her way over. Once she was close enough, she swung and hit the person over the head, knocking them down.
They groaned and fell from the curtain, revealing the blue-clad superhero. Her eyes widened as she got a good look at him, shocked to see that he was there in her apartment.
"Oh my god!" she said, still holding her bat up. "What are you doing here!"
"I live here," Blue Beetle groaned. He held his head, a little rattled. His armor was in shambles and in need of some repairs. He'd been through a lot, a lot more than what was shown on the news. He obviously needed some help and some rest, but Reader knew one other thing was for certain: he didn't live here.
"I live here," she said, sighing. She lowered the bat, aware that she couldn't exactly let it go or put it away without giving herself away. "You must've hit your head or something."
"No head injury until you hit me," he said. He sat up, leaning back on his arms.
She winced. "I'm so sorry."
"I can't blame you," he said and looked around the apartment. "You're right, as usual. This isn't my apartment."
She nodded, then stopped as she caught what he said. "Wait, what did you just say?"
"You're right," he said, holding back.
"As usual," she finished, looking him over. She replayed his voice over in her head. "Jaime?"
"Shit," he cursed and retracted his mask, able to breath a little better. "I'm so sorry, Reader. This shouldn't have happened."
"Well, at least we know what he's hiding," Rami said.
"Why are you sorry?" Reader asked, leaning some of her weight on her bat.
"I've put you in danger simply by you knowing who I am," Jaime said.
Then Rami said, "That's a scarab."
Reader choked on air. "What?"
Jaime's eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet. He put his hands out in an assuring manner, sure that he'd freaked her out. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I swear, I'll do everything to protect you should anyone come after you or try to hurt you."
At the same time he was talking, Rami was explaining how the armor Jaime wore was the same as she would if it would let her show her all it was capable of. It had been a long time since the pink scarab had been allowed to fully use its host, but the beginning of their partnership had been rough and she'd been resistant to the whole body armor thing. They hadn't tried again since they first bonded. It had never been necessary either.
"Stop, just stop, I can't listen to both of you at the same time!" she shouted, bringing her hands up to her head. The bat retracted into her hand and the armor that Jaime had thought were gloves in the dark disappeared. "Just shut up for a minute!"
Jaime stood in shock, wondering what was going on. He listened though and everything was quiet. Khaji was down needing as much rest as he did, so it was truly quiet.
After a moment to collect her thoughts, Reader looked at him. "You're Blue Beetle."
He nodded. "Yeah."
"And you have a scarab."
He nodded again. "How did you know that."
"Because," Reader said and turned around. She rolled up her shirt, exposing her rolls and fat, but also the pink scarab embedded along her spine. It was a sight Jaime was sure he'd never see on another person. "I have one too."
The conversation would have gone on if Jaime hadn't collapsed on Reader's couch. It obviously wasn't the time to talk about it. As soon as she saw that he didn't have as much energy as he'd like to show her, she jumped into action to get him cleaned up. His armor retracted and he was naked on her furniture, but she didn't bat an eye at it. She covered him up and got a warm rag to start cleaning up a few injuries he had on his side, where his armor had been cracked. He was still conscious and talking, which was a good sign. She kept his talking, asking him how this had happened.
He explained that the bank robbers were on some sort of enhancement drug that made them nearly indestructible. He had to hand the case over to the Justice League once that little tidbit had been revealed by one of the overconfident robbers. It was supposed to stop others from capturing them, but they hadn't accounted for a hero like Blue Beetle to show up. Despite that, he'd got slammed into the bank counter somewhere near the end of the fight and a lot of his scarab's energy went to trying to repair it in time, but the fight still went on. Nevertheless, they'd been taken care of and were on their way to a highly secure prison where they couldn't hurt or scare anyone else.
Reader bandaged him up and put a pillow under his head. "Well, I'm glad you're okay."
He frowned. "I still put you in danger."
"No, you just made Rami a whole lot more protective of me," she told him, smiling. "With the both of you on my side, I couldn't possibly get hurt. Not that I can't take care of myself."
He gave a tired smile. "Right. You've got one Hell of a swing."
She giggled and kissed Jaime on the head. "Rest up. I'll go get some clothes out of your apartment."
And that was how they got even closer. Knowing the other had some world-destroying biotech embedded in their backs opened up a lot of doors for them to confide in each other and get even closer. Jaime told her about how he became Khaji Da's host and of his father, who he'd looked up to all his life. Reader told him the story of how she'd found her scarab while backpacking in the jungle; she'd thought she found some ancient fossil, not a rock from outer space that held an alien war weapon.
They spent more time at each other's places, especially after Reader had enough of getting treated like shit after a new manager was put in charge at her job and quit. She'd saved up enough money to get by for a while and it gave her time to work on her art. It was a nice change of pace and she was happier because of it. Months went by of them hanging out, inside and outside of their apartment building, but the more time they spent together, the more Khaji encouraged Jaime to make a move.
Or rather, mate with Reader.
It didn't come up in those terms, but Khaji constantly brought up how great of a mate Reader would be. It was talking all the time the two spent together as proof that it was right about this. However, every time it came up, Jaime shut it down almost immediately. Because while he did like Reader, he didn't want to make a move too fast. He wasn't even sure if she liked him.
Reader was in a similar dilemma, though her own scarab could care less about Jaime. She liked him but didn't know if she wanted to go through asking him out. What if he said no? She'd make things awkward between herself and the only other person who understands what she goes through daily.
Rami disagreed. While it didn't like Jaime, it saw things Reader seemingly didn't. "He's staring again." or "This is the seventh time he's offered to do something for you in four days." It's very obvious to Rami that Jaime has a crush on her, more than a crush it will argue.
"He is highly attracted to you, Reader," it said one day while she was painting. "You're as equally as attracted to him as he is to you. Just look at what you're doing."
When she blinked and actually looked at what she'd been painting, it was a famous Blue Beetle. It was artistic and colorful and produced with admiration. She set it aside and decided to go on a walk to clear her head.
As she passed Jaime in the hall, Khaji Da noticed something. "She's happier and free of stress, making this her more fertile cycle yet."
Jaime could have died right there on the floor. He hurried to his apartment and slammed the door shut behind him. "What are you talking about!?"
"Reader. Her fertility is at its highest now that she has removed herself from a stressful work environment, allowing her to become happier. As a result, she is far more fertile than before and in the perfect position for breeding," Khaji explained.
Jaime felt like he was going to lose his mind. "We aren't even in a relationship! You can't assume these things are going to happen when we're just friends! I'm not talking about this anymore, mostly because this is a huge violation of Reader's privacy!"
The conversation might have ended there, but Jaime's mind couldn't stop thinking about it. Ever since they'd met, he'd been undoubtedly attracted to Reader. She's beautiful, kind, and smart. It was helpful that her voluptuous figure was so eye-catching. She was purely gorgeous and sometimes all he wanted was to grab a handful of her ass or squeeze her wide hips so he could pull her into him. He wanted to kiss her lips and feel her body against his, fat tits squished against his chest. But for the most part, he pushed those thoughts down because Reader was his friend and friends didn't think of each other like that.
The following evening, they were hanging out at his place. They'd had take out together and were cleaning up when he brushed up against her as she put the leftovers in the fridge. He only meant to grab another drink but he accidentally pressed up against her ass while she was bent over and it sparked something. Things grew hot quickly and both of them didn't know what to do or think for the longest time.
So, because of their inability to take charge of their destinies, Khaji and Rami (both on different wavelengths but somehow on the same page) forced proximately between their hosts. Khaji pushed Jaime forward and Rami moved Reader into just the right position. Their lips met in a surprising, hard kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough for the two to want more of each other.
They threw themselves at each other and wrapped their arms around the other. They kissed feverishly, moaning into each other's mouths hotly. Jaime's hands roamed and explored Reader's body, squeezing her sides and hips to pull her closer. One of her hands laid on the back of his neck while the other pushed into his hair. He groaned as she gripped his hair and she took the chance to dart her tongue into his mouth. She took charge until he started leading her through the apartment, barely parting from each other to see where they were going. She giggled as they tripped over something on the floor, only for him to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her to his bedroom.
He tossed her onto the bed and she looked up at him, seeing the dark look in his eyes. It was lustful and needy, fell of admiration as she lay on his bed. She sat up quickly and pulled her shirt off, followed by her bra. Her body was revealed to him in all its glory, making him hard as a rock in his sweats. He pushed them down and kicked them off with his boxers, making her lick her lips as she saw him. Her mouth looked so pretty and warm, but it wasn't what he wanted in that moment.
No, the idea of breeding her had been planted in his head and he had to go through with it. He had to fuck her deep and thoroughly to ensure she was full of him and that they'd reproduce strong, healthy young.
He couldn't even push those terms out of his head, too clouded by need and lust for Reader. Under any other circumstances, he'd never use words like "reproduce" and "young" when even thinking about sex, let alone at the idea of getting his girlfriend pregnant. (Did this mean they were together? He hoped so).
"Do you want this?" he asked her, ready to help her out of her pants.
She nodded. "Yes, fucking yes. I need you, Jaime."
He tugged her pants off and slowly slid her panties down her longs afterward, making her whine as he seemingly decided that he now wanted to take his time with her. He threw his shirt off and dove between her legs, throwing them over his shoulders so he could eat her out properly in preparation for what was to come. He licked a stripe up her folds and used his thumbs to spread them, pushing his tongue into her already wet cunt. She moaned and shuddered under his touch, hands combing through his hair until she found a nice grip on it. She tugged on his dark locks with just about every movement he made, getting her riled up as she cried out his name. She came a few minutes later and Jaime lapped up most of her juices, selfishly tasting her. Her thighs squeezed his head and he swore he could almost die happy like that.
Almost. It would have been a nice way to go but they were nowhere near the end
He stood on his knees after throwing her legs off of him. He fisted his cock, a small bead of pre cum leaking from the tip as he looked down at her. She had to catch her breath after her first orgasm of many to come that night. He used his other hand to reach down and fondle her tits, which he was already imagining swelling with milk.
Even though the primal need had wormed its way into his thoughts, that he wanted this so badly, he still needed to ask her. If he was thinking rationally without being horny as fuck, he wouldn't phrase it like this. It was absurd, but it was all he wanted: "Can I breed you, please?"
Was it smart? Probably not, but Reader nodded. She couldn't see herself with anyone else, especially now that they've had this special bond between them, this thing that no one else will ever fully understand. And because of it, she could say she felt like she'd known Jaime for years, as opposed to ten months. Her answer probably had to do with her ovulation, but she wasn't thinking about that at that very moment. All she was thinking about was Jaime and his fat dick he was prepping for her.
He grinned and leaned down, kissing her hard. She moaned into his mouth as he pressed into her, the head of his cock popping into her tight pussy. She threw her arms around him to keep the kiss going, but it was hard when he continued to push into her. Her head fell back and she moaned, feeling the way he stretched her out. His hands held her hips, angling them up so he could press as deeply into her the first time. Once their hips met, her eyes rolled up and she gasped.
"So fucking deep," she sighed, looking up at him. "Holy- oh my- Jaime!"
"You take me so well, hermosa," he told her, kissing her head as she got used to his size. He held back for that reason, knowing that they had to get used to each other. "Fuck, you're so tight."
She giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him once more. They made out for a while until she told him it was okay for him to move. That was when he tightly gripped her tender hips and slowly pulled back but not out. He then drove into her hard, hips smacking into hers harshly. She threw her head back to moan loudly, feeling the way he hit deep inside of her, somehow immediately finding that spongey spot that made her go crazy.
"Right there, right there! Oh fuck!" she cried out.
Jaime made a note of her reaction and thrust into her hard and slow, hitting that spot repeatedly. She was already high from her last orgasm, so it didn't take him long to make her come again, this time on his cock, making it easier for him to slide in and out of her. He upped his pace, making sure to hold her hips in place so he could fuck her perfectly. He grunted with each thrust, resting his forehead on hers. She stared up into his eyes and he watched her lovely eyes be full of nothing but lust and admiration.
He was so worked up that he came not long after her. She wrapped her legs around his waist when he said he was going to come and pulled him in close. He sheathed himself in her pussy to the hilt, firing off the first of many loads he'd fill her with. His cock throbbed with each shot of his thick cum he gave her. He kissed her sloppily, making a mess of their already slightly swollen lips. They moaned into each other's mouths, holding each other close, pressed together.
When he pulled away, they caught their breaths as he tapered off. He pulled out of her slowly, looking down at her pussy. Nothing happened for a moment, then a small trickle of his cum leaked out of her. It was beautiful seeing her like that, but he wanted more.
He turned her over and grabbed her ass, squeezing it hard and making her moan his name loudly. She was hardly on her hands and knees, mostly laying there with her ass up in the air. He gave it a quick smack before fisting his still-hard cock. "I can't wait until you're full of me."
She gave a hazy, happy smile as she heard this. She pushed herself up onto her hands and shook her ass at him, biting her lip. The little bit of rest she got between coming on his cock and now was enough to regain some energy. She reached back and spread her ass, then hit it with a loud smack! "Then fill me up, Jaime."
He wasted no time fulfilling that order, grabbing her by her hips and pulling her back into him. He slid into her with ease. He used his knees to make her spread her knees further apart and he pushed her back onto the mattress so she was properly presented to him. She grabbed a pillow to rest her head on and looked at him over her shoulder, grinning at him. "Fuck me."
He fell into a fast pace, pulling her back into his thrusts. One hand held her hip and the other wandered up her back, gently tracing the scarab embedded in her back. To anyone else, it would look rather unpleasant, but to him it was beautiful. They were alike in this way and there was no part of her that was not absolutely gorgeous to him. He wanted her to know that even though she said she didn't feel bad about how her body had changed to accommodate the scarab. Maybe in the beginning she had some thoughts about it and didn't think highly of herself for it, but after so long with it, she was at peace with it. Jaime just liked the idea of showing her he loved that part of her too.
Loved. Fuck, he loved her. Since he met her, all he'd been doing was falling in love with her. Her mind, her body, her kindness, her smile and laugh, the way she always greeted him and read on her balcony, or how she always offered him food when she cooked too much for herself.
He wrapped his arm around her midsection and pulled her up to him. He buried his face in her neck and kissed her scalding skin, making her tilt her head to the side. His hand wandered her body, starting at her tits and giving them a rough fondling before traveling down to her belly, where he groped it gently. His voice came out gruff and needy as his lips caressed her ear. "I can't wait till you have my babies in you. You're already so beautiful, but you're gonna be so fucking hot round and filled out with our babies."
She moaned, reaching behind her to put a hand on the back of his head, fisting his hair. Her other hand went to lay over his on her belly and he grabbed it, holding it there with his. All she could say was his name, enamored by every word he said.
"I'll take care of you. You can paint everyday, all day long, and grow our pretty little babies. I'll keep you pregnant and you can sit back and I'll take care of you," he mumbled into her ear.
She leaned her head back on his chest, closing her eyes as he fucked her toward another orgasm. She tried to tell him she was going to come, but it rocked her body before she could get all the words out. But that was okay. He knew, and he drove into her harder so he could come with her and fill her pretty, fat cunt up like they both wanted.
She shook in his arms as she came, crying out for him and that pretty little life he'd painted for her. It was so nice, so pretty. She turned her head to look at him, only for his lips to crash into hers.
After a few minutes, he laid them down and pulled her back into his chest. She relaxed against the sheets and rested her head back against him, only for his hips to start again. She moaned lowly, overstimulated but it wasn't bad. If she really wanted to, she could push back into his thrusts, but she was tired. Maybe next time.
She let him do his thing, feeling how lazy these thrusts were in comparison to the others before them. They let out soft moans and grunts, didn't speak this time, only let their actions speak for themselves. They held hands as he came again and he kissed her neck. She was so close to falling asleep, smiling as things began to settle. The heat of the moment eased into coolness and they laid together like that for a while. At some point, Jaime pulled a thin blanket over them and they fell asleep together.
Reader never went back to her apartment after that night. The morning after, Jaime made her breakfast and they ate together, then fucked again, and in the middle of that passionate romp admitted their feelings for each other. He told her he loved her and she told him she didn't know if she could live without him in her life. He never asked her to move in, that was just a given. He did, however, take it upon himself to move her things into his apartment and talk to the landlord about the whole situation, since her name was on a lease and blah blah blah.
They didn't talk about the whole breeding thing and instead let fate take the wheel on that one, even though they both liked the idea and wanted it. They didn't even get pregnant that first time, and thankfully so because, aside from meeting his sister when she came to pester him and get out of the house, she had yet to meet his family. It seemed to happen as soon as she was accepted by his family, though, before a few months after that, Rami was telling Reader the great news.
"Last night, I performed a physical evaluation for you after you're, as you put it, 'feeling under the weather', and have found something you'll be elated to hear," it said one morning while she was brushing her teeth.
She hummed and spit. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"You are pregnant," Rami said.
She'd just been getting ready to rinse and spit the water out, hitting the mirror with an alarming shot. She realized why the taste of her toothpaste had might have made her gag earlier. "What? Are you sure?"
"I am positive," it said, then started going over her blood and hormones, a bunch of doctors talk she didn't care to really hear. She stared at herself in the mirror, a smile slowly growing on her face. Then the scarab said something else: "And it appears the egg has split, meaning-"
"Twins?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Jaime was in the next room getting ready for work and was unprepared for Reader to come running in. She practically jumped on him and would have taken him to the ground were it not for Khaji and Rami's quick reflexes that caught them.
"Jaime!" she all but cried.
He held her, looking at her with a bewildered smile. "Yes, mi amor? What is it? Why are you charging in here like you've won the lottery?"
"I pretty much have," she giggled and took his hands from her waist and put them on her belly. She didn't have to say anything else.
His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I've got the best pregnancy test on my back. I'm pregnant!"
She jumped for joy and Jaime pulled her into a firm hug.
Rami was less than impressed. "Reader, be more careful. You are now in charge of precious offspring. Your body is delicate."
Reader scoff and huffed. "I'm not delicate."
Jaime had to stifle a laugh, sure that the scarab on her back had somehow offended her. He kissed her cheek and said, "Rami, be careful. You do know mood swings come with the territory of pregnancy, don't you?"
Rami, though knowing Jaime couldn't hear it, said to Reader, "Does he think I do not know how to take care of my host. I have already done my research on human pregnancy. As soon as I knew you were indeed pregnant with offspring, I plugged into the internet to find out more of how to properly care for you."
Reader sighed and nodded, still holding onto Jaime in a gentle side hug. "I'm sure you did, Rami. That's... wonderful, but we've talked about hooking into the internet router."
Jaime had to laugh this time and shook his head. "Come on, let's go to breakfast. You two can argue about internet safety later."
"But I thought you had to be at Kord this morning," Reader said.
He shrugged. "They'll understand I had to take my beautiful girlfriend out for celebratory waffles."
She smiled and giggled. "You know me so well, but I have to go finish brushing my teeth."
As she hurried out the room, Jaime watched her with a bright smile. And a little voice in his head said, "I told you the two of you were compatible."
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savannahsdeath · 1 year
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haiiiiii, this is my first time requesting 😖😖😖😖😖 what ab boxer ellie and boxer reader fucking ts out of each other 😖😖😖😖😖
BOXER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X BOXER!READER
mdni please<3
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warnings: 18+!! just.. smut
writers note: im so proud you trusted me with your first request??!!?!! omg also idk im no boxer so.. but i tried !! also this is some short drabble or whatever buut im posting it anyway because.. yes
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you always admired ellie at the gym, what usually made your workout session worthless. you were a boxer, just like her. you knew every punch or kick you saw her do, it wasn't anything new nor special. yet, the way she did them brought your attention. her movements were fluid, quick, and precise. there was no hesitation or wasted energy. everything was a perfectly timed, deliberate attack. the way she moved was like liquid, weaving through the air with ease. she was art in motion, each strike a beautifully crafted, deadly dance.
and then, she saw you looking at her. her determinated expression got replaced by the playful smirk that made you lose your mind.
"hey!" she chuckled. "anything interesting?"
her green shirt was clinging to her body, exposing every curve and muscle. it was difficult not to keep staring at her.
you tried to compose yourself, to play it cool and not let her get to you. "just watching you, and thinking about all the ways i could beat you." you gave her a cheeky grin, and raised your eyebrow to let her know you're not one to be messed with.
she laughed and approached you. "care to show me on a practice session later?" she asked playfully.
"of course!" you smiled back at her, your heart racing as her body draws nearer to yours with each step. still, you played along, pretending to be confident and totally-not-impressed. "who knows, maybe i can show you a thing or two that you haven't seen before." you added with a smirk on your own face.
as she got close, you could feel the heat from her body and see how her shirt clings to her curves like second skin. your face flushed with blood and you had to look away, unable to keep a steady gaze as she drew your eyes back to her with that inviting smirk.
that's how you ended up between her legs, showing her 'a thing or two she haven't seen before'. your tongue dipped inside her cunt, collecting everything in your mouth. then, you moved to lick her folds sleek, carefully moving up and down, stopping at her clit to suck on it. she was trying her best to stay quiet and keep her 'unbothered' facade, but you thought it's useless after she failed once. oh, how oblivious she was to the fact that you could feel how her hips moved closer to your face.
"are we- fuck, do we practice the same boxing?" she mumbled, trying to sit up and look at you but ending up squirming even more.
the air, disturbed by the vibration of your laugh, hit her inner thighs. she squeezed them around your head, but your hands quickly parted them back to their previous position.
"i don't know about you, but that's what i practiced." you replaced your tongue with your fingers, rubbing her clit while you pulled away and sat up, letting her see you. "is that something... new for you?"
she whined and moaned out a; 'fuck you', before regaining her composure and adding a more confident; "i can do just as much."
not long after that, your places swapped. you admired how full of energy she was, even though she struggled to speak not long ago.
"what happened to the 'no fucking before an important fight'?" you taunted - your breathless state wasn't enough to stop you from teasing her.
after that, she pushed two of her fingers into your puffy cunt. you gasped as your ability to speak went missing, your cheeks shining with not even bright red as an uncontrollable groan in form of her name escaped your mouth.
"i was just about to ask you 'what happened to you stuttering and blushing everytime you talk to me?'" she made a dramatic pause, letting her fingers pump in and out of you, closely watching your reaction to every move so she would figure out where your sensitive spot was. it took her about two times, or more but really fast ones, your sense of time got ruined and you weren't sure. "but there you are."
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gigabyte-flare · 1 year
Text
He Comes Alive (Part 1)
Summary: Dropping out of college and moving back in with your parents is embarrassing when you live in a small town, where news and rumors spread fast. You have a chance encounter with a man that just moved into town, not realizing your life is about to get a lot more exciting.
Word Count: 3k
Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, implied kidnapping, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]
A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a vampire au. I wanted to do a twist on Las Plagas where it turns people into vampires, also I was very much inspired by @nexysworld's vampire!Leon bot (which is excellent huehuehue). This fic takes place in the late 1980s, so canon stuff is completely thrown out the window so if that's not your thing, kindly move along.
Oakvale is a fictional town nestled in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountain region and based heavily on my own experience growing up in small town New England. Shout out to my fellow New Englanders! 🥰
A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists
Title inspired by Jason performed by The Midnight
Line break Divider by cafekitsune
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You stand at the end of the walkway leading up to your childhood home in Oakvale, New Hampshire, holding your luggage in one hand. You take deep breaths, preparing yourself for a nasty welcome home. You can still hear your father’s rage filled voice from your phone call a few days prior. You had decided to drop out of college. You were failing your classes and you couldn’t cope with hectic college life. Your mom, on the other hand, while disappointed in your decision, understood that this was your choice and that you were an adult now.
You had gone to college at the University of Illinois majoring in accounting under your father’s strict guidance in hopes that you would graduate and then run the finances for his car repair business. He was only going to help pay for college if you majored in accounting, so you had agreed begrudgingly. You were terrible at math and hated working with numbers, it was no wonder you were struggling.
You collect your thoughts, exhale loudly and approach the front door, wheeling your luggage behind you. You stand before the front door, giving it a few light knocks. You hear movement inside the house and the sound of your mother yelling down that she is coming. The front door opens and you’re greeted with your mother’s smiling face; a very welcome sight, beating the alternative.
“Sweetheart!” your mom exclaims, wrapping her arms around you, “how was your flight?”
“It was alright, I was able to sleep most of the way,” you reply as your mom leads you into the house. 
You glance into the living room as you walk into the house, seeing your father watching the weather channel. He won’t even look at you or acknowledge you. Your mom sees the distress in your face. She stands in front of you, grasping your arms gently.
“Pay him no mind, sweetie, I’ve given him strict instructions to not talk about college with you. Give him time, he’ll get over it,” your mom lets go, continuing to lead you to your bedroom, “he needs to understand that you are an adult and can make your own decisions. He knew going into this that you hated math, it’s his own fault for pushing you so hard.”
You're comforted by your mother’s words as the two of you reach the precipice of your bedroom. She opens the door for you and you are met with your childhood bedroom, exactly how you left it before you went off to college three years ago: floral bedding, light pastel pink walls, matching white furniture and boy band posters and polaroids of you and your friends attached to the walls. You make a mental note to redecorate, but that can wait until later. 
Later that evening, you join your parents in the dining room for dinner. Your Mother made your favorite: pasta in tomato sauce with kielbasa, squash and zucchini. Despite the fact it was late September, the family garden was still providing fresh vegetables. At first, you all eat in silence; you don’t dare make eye contact with your father. He seems to be too absorbed in the newspaper anyway. After agonizing minutes of silence, your father finally speaks to you for the first time since you came home.
“I got you a job at the gas station, you start Monday.”
You stop mid-bite, looking at your father dumbfounded before glancing at your mother, who smiles at you. He’s referring to the one gas station in town, just on the edge of town leading to the highway.
“Th-Thank you, Dad… that’s very kind of you…” you say before continuing your meal.
All the while, you hear the TV that’s still on in the living room, playing the news, “Fish and Game is still searching for 25 year old Alicia Walker, who hasn’t been seen since Wednesday when she told her family she’d be hiking up Mt. Lafayette--”
“Oh dear… they still haven’t found that hiker, Mick?” your mom says, looking over at your father.
Your father shakes his head in dismay, “nope. Seems to be happening a lot lately, that’s the third hiker in about a month, too.”
“Hikers are going missing?” you chime in before chewing your food.
“Unfortunately. That’s what happens when you go hiking in the Notch unprepared. Promise me you’ll never hike alone,” your father says to you in a stern tone.
“Of course, Dad, I’m not stupid.”
“Good,” your father replies with a nod before he continues eating, “pasta’s delicious Sandi.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
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The weekend goes by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s Monday; your first day at your new job at the gas station. It’s an easy enough job, just working the cash register as people come in to buy things and get gasoline for their vehicles. What your father had failed to tell you, however, is that he got you the late shift: 6:00pm to midnight. The day shift person, an older woman named Peggy, who also trained you briefly, let you know that police officers often stop in at night to check on things, giving you some comfort. Oakvale wasn’t a bad town by any means, but this gas station was also close to the highway; anyone could come in.
That is made apparent when the chief of police himself stops in around 10:00pm, Chief Robert Dion, but most people in town just call him Chief Bob or just Chief. He was a burly man with a large mustache that he used wax to curl the ends; he almost looks like a cartoon character. His hair and beard are starting to show his old age. You recall he’s a nice man; you smile at him from behind the cash register as he walks through the door.
“Chief Bob! Long time no see!”
“Well, hey there little lady! Mick told me you were working at the gas station now! When did you get back into town?”
“Friday afternoon. I’m… not cut out for college, I guess…” you reply, your tone becoming morose.
“Hey! Don’t get down! Take some time to yourself and try again.” he says, leaning up against the counter on one arm. 
“Thanks Chief. What’s the latest gossip in town? I’m sure I’ve missed a ton in three years.”
“Mostly about those missing hikers. I’m sure you heard--”
The sudden roar of a motorcycle cuts him off as a Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls up to one of the pumps outside before cutting the power. You watch from your peripheral vision as the driver gets off the bike. You draw your attention back to Chief Bob.
“As I was saying… I’m sure you heard about the missing hikers.”
You nod, “yeah, it was on the news when we were having dinner on Friday.”
You hear the electronic chime on the door go off as someone walks in and that’s when your eyes settle on what is quite possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket with worn denim jeans and work boots. Chief Bob moves out of the way to let the man come to the register. Your heart can’t help but race in your chest as your eyes are locked on the man.
“Can I get $5 on pump uh…” the man leans to look out the window at the number of the pump he parked at outside, “four?”
“S-Sure, of course! $5 please,” you reply, kicking yourself internally for stuttering. 
The man pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, setting down a five dollar bill. Your eyes drift to his hands to check to see if he’s wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger; you don’t see one. Shifting your gaze back up, you see that his eyes are suddenly locked on yours; he gives you a playful smirk and winks before he turns to walk out.
“You’re out awfully late,” Chief Bob says to the man as he walks by.
“Had some errands to run. Take care Chief,” the man replies before walking back outside to fill his bike.
Your eyes are once again locked on the man before Chief Bob’s voice draws your attention back, “I think that’s the guy that bought ol’ Archie Mason’s place about a month ago.”
Archie Mason. Now that’s a name you haven’t heard in a while. You knew him as Mr. Mason, a curmudgeon of a man that lived on a dead end road in the woods by himself in town. As kids, you’d dare each other to go to his house, knock on his front door and see who could run the fastest before getting caught. Mr. Mason hated children.
“When did Mr. Mason die?” you ask as you get the $5 bill the handsome man gave you into the cash register. 
“I think… two years ago? The house finally went through probate and was sold. That guy moved in and has been fixing it up ever since. Usually see him at Rocky’s.”
Rocky’s is a hardware store in Oakvale, a popular spot for all the younger and middle aged men in town, right up there with Moe’s bar, which was conveniently right next door to the hardware store. You hear Chief Bob talking to you still, but you can’t focus. Instead, your attention is on the mystery man pumping gas into his motorcycle, your heart all aflutter.
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You wake up around 9:30am Wednesday morning, shuffling over to your closet to put on some clothes. Afterwards, you go into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and put your makeup on. All the while, you can hear your father hard at work in the garage on someone’s car through the various open windows in the house. You decide to pay him a visit after you get yourself put together.
You go outside, walking over to the adjacent auto repair shop, stopping to glance up at the sign hanging off the building: Mick’s Auto Repair. Every business in town had this unspoken rule that their business had to have their name in it; Mick’s Auto Repair, Rocky’s Hardware, Moe’s Bar and Grille, Sally’s Sew Shop, just to name a few. You continue walking, walking into the shop through the open garage door.
“Hey Dad!” you call out, looking around before seeing your father’s legs sticking out from under the car he’s working on. 
You watch as he rolls out from under the car, his face, clothing and hands covered in oil stains. He looks up at you, his eyes squinting from the sun leaking into the garage. 
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.
“You didn’t tell me Mr. Mason had died.”
“Oh… yeah… died in his sleep. The old fart was 92. Didn’t really come as a shock to anyone.” your dad replies, rolling himself back under the car.
“Do you know anything about the guy that bought the house?” you continue to pry, crossing your arms as you look down, addressing your father’s feet. 
“Yeah, his name’s Leon, I think. Moved in from D.C. if I heard right. What about him?”
“Oh… nothing… he came into the gas station the other night…” you reply, your voice trailing out as the butterflies stir up in your gut thinking about him.
Leon… that suits him, you think to yourself. 
“Now don’t you go getting any ideas, the last thing you need right now, young lady, is to be distracted by some boy. He’s too old for you anyway-- oh fuck!” your father curses as you hear something snap from under the car, rolling back out with a broken wrench in his hand.
“That’s not good,” you comment, watching as your father shoots you a glare. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh, “can you run over to Rocky’s real quick and get me another one? I’d go but I’m caked in oil. Don’t need Rock yelling at me for tracking oil into his store again. I’ll pay you back.”
“Sure, no problem! I’ll be right back!” you say, heading back into the house to grab your purse from your bedroom. 
You grab the broken wrench from your father so you make sure to get the right one and head out. The hardware store is about a 15 minute walk from your house, so you decide to just walk, enjoying the crisp hair and sun of early fall. Coming upon Rocky’s Hardware, you step inside, a bell hanging off the door ringing as you walk in. 
“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mick’s little girl! How’s it going, sweetheart?” Rocky says from the cash register. 
Rocky is another older man, medium build with a head full of gray hair and a big, bushy gray mustache.
“Hey Rocky!” you reply as you pull your father’s broken wrench from your purse, “Dad broke another wrench, sent me to get another one for him.”
“Jesus… they don’t make them like they used to, do they? Aisle 6 dear, on the left.” Rocky says, gesturing into the store.
“Thanks Rock,” you say before proceeding to the aisle in question; however, when you turn to walk down the aisle, you stop dead in your tracks.
Leon, the man from the gas station the other night, is standing in the aisle looking at hardware, which is on the opposite side of the tools. You stand there, staring at him like an idiot, your heart pounding in your throat. As if sensing your presence, the man turns to you, giving you that same smirk from the other night.
“You’re that cute girl from the gas station,” he says; it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
He remembered you. He also called you cute, making your stomach twist in anxiety. 
“Y-Yeah…” you manage to say before working up the courage to walk into the aisle to look at the tools.
Leon’s eyes stay on you as you approach, watching as you draw your attention to the tools.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a hardware store?” he asks playfully, you can hear him smirking as he moves to stand next to you.
“Oh… my Dad broke his wrench. He asked me to get him another one.” you reply, trying desperately not to let your nerves get the better of you as you show Leon the broken wrench. 
“Oh dear! Let’s see…” Leon starts as he looks up at all the different tools, reaching up to grab one of the wrenches hanging off the display, “this one looks like the same wrench, here you go.”
Leon hands you the new wrench, his fingers lightly caressing yours as he pulls his hand away, a gesture that is not missed by you. You feel your cheeks flush as you tuck the broken wrench back into your purse.
“Thank you mister…?”
“The name’s Leon Kennedy. But please, just call me Leon.” he replies, making eye contact with you, “what’s your name?”
You pause for a moment before you practically stutter your name out. You watch as Leon smiles at you, his eyes taking you in as he looks up and down at you.
“That is a lovely name,” he says, the compliment hitting you straight into your core; you feel your panties become slick.
“Th-Thank you… you have a nice name, too.”
Leon gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “I gotta go pay for my stuff. Hopefully we can see more of each other, yeah?”
You stare at him in awe for a moment before nodding, “Yes! I… I’d like that, too…”
He gives you a wink before he turns to walk out of the aisle and up to the cash register, where you hear him make small talk with Rocky. You are frozen in place in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. You wait until you hear the bell on the door ring before you go up to the register to pay for the new wrench. 
You couldn’t get home fast enough, your entire being a bundle of nerves. Once you get home, you walk through the open garage door to give your father the wrench. You find he’s not in the garage, so you walk back into the house, only to find him standing in front of the TV in the living room, watching the news.
“Dad, I got the wrench--” you begin to say as you cut yourself off, seeing there’s a breaking news report playing on the TV, “what’s wrong?”
Your father turns to you, his look is forlorn, “another hiker went missing, they were last seen Monday.”
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That night, after getting home from your shift at the gas station, you toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable. You can’t get Leon off your mind. Tossing your comforter off you, you lay on your back, propping your legs up and spread them as your right hand dips under the hem of your underwear, your fingers finding your clit to rub slow circles into it.
As you lose yourself to your own pleasure you moan Leon’s name softly, closing your eyes to picture the way his beautiful blue eyes looked up and down your body earlier today, the way his jeans hugged his slender hips. You could almost smell his leather jacket. Your fingers pick up the pace on your clit, causing your hips to buck into your fingers as you chase your high, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. 
You turn your head towards your windows, slowly opening your eyes, only for your breath to be caught in your throat as you spot a pair of glowing red eyes peering into your window. You watch as the eyes suddenly dart away from the window, thumping sounds quickly following. You quickly pull your hand out from your underwear and practically jump out of bed to your window, throwing it open to look out. You look around, seeing nothing in the darkness. Your bedroom is on the second floor, it couldn’t have been a person. People don’t have glowing red eyes.
You take deep breaths, realizing your thoughts are only psyching yourself out. It was just your imagination in the heat of you getting yourself off, you decide, before you shut your window, locking it. Just in case. You walk back over to your bed, collapsing into it, your arousal having been scared out of you, so you quickly drift off to sleep.
Part 2
704 notes · View notes
robertreich · 10 months
Video
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How Amazon Is Ripping You Off
Shopping on Amazon? Stop! Watch this first.
Amazon is the world’s biggest online retailer. This one single juggernaut of a company is responsible for nearly 40% of all online sales in America. In an FTC lawsuit, they’re accused of using their mammoth size, and consumers’ dependence on them, to artificially jack up prices as high as possible, while prohibiting sellers on Amazon from charging lower prices anywhere else.
They’re accused of using a secret algorithm, codenamed "Project Nessie," to charge customers an estimated extra $1 billion dollars,
If this isn’t an abuse of power that hurts consumers, what is? So much for all of those “prime” deals you thought you were getting.
Project Nessie isn’t the only trick Amazon has been accused of using to exert its hulking dominance over the online retail industry — leading to higher prices for you.
Much of the FTC’s antitrust lawsuit centers around the treatment of independent merchants who sell items on Amazon’s online superstore — accounting for 60 percent of Amazon's sales.
Amazon allegedly uses strongarm tactics that force these sellers to keep their prices higher than they need to be. Like barring them from selling products for significantly less at other stores — or else risk being hidden in Amazon’s search results or having their sales stopped entirely.
And Amazon is accused of engaging in pay-to-play schemes and charging merchants excessive fees that end up costing you even more.
Independent sellers are effectively forced to pay Amazon to advertise their products prominently in search results. If they don’t fork over cash, then their products get buried underneath products of companies who do. This hurts sellers but also harms shoppers who have to parse through less relevant products that may be more expensive or lower quality.
And to be eligible for the coveted “Prime” badge on their items — which is considered crucial for competing on the platform — independent sellers are pushed into paying Amazon for additional services like warehousing and shipping, even if they could get those services cheaper elsewhere. If sellers forgo trying to qualify for Prime, their goods apparently become harder for customers to find.
When all of these extra fees are added up, Amazon takes around a 50 percent cut of each sale made by a third party. It’s projected that Amazon will earn around $125 billion from collecting fees in the U.S. in 2023, most of which get passed on to you.
By charging all of these extra fees and stifling independent companies from selling their products for less elsewhere, Amazon is using its dominance to essentially set prices for all consumers across the internet.
And when you combine Amazon’s control of ecommerce with all of the other industries it has entered by gobbling up companies — such as Whole Foods, One Medical, and MGM — you’re left with a behemoth that simply has too much power.
This is all part of a much larger problem of growing corporate dominance in America. In over 75% of U.S. industries, fewer companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.
The lack of competition and consumer choice has resulted in all of us paying more for goods because corporations like Amazon can raise their prices with impunity. By one estimate, corporate concentration has cost the typical American household $5,000 a year more than they would have spent if markets were truly competitive.
This power isn’t just being used to siphon more money from you. A giant corporation has the power to bust unions, keep workers’ wages low, and funnel money into our political system.
It’s a vicious cycle, making giant corporations more and more powerful.
But under the Biden administration, the government is making a strong effort to revive antitrust law and use its power to reign in big corporations that have grown too powerful.
We must stop the monopolization of America. This FTC lawsuit against Amazon is a great start.
521 notes · View notes
musings-of-a-rose · 3 months
Text
Marcus
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Pairing: Marcus (Pike, Moreno, Acacius) x f!reader
Word Count: 6900+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: I saw a post from @pimosworld innocently asking for a Marcus bachlorette style fic and, while this isn't exactly right, this is what my brain came up with. Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to me ramble and helping me, as well as @vanemando15 for being a cheerleader!
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Marcus Moreno Masterlist
Marcus Pike Masterlist
Marcus Acacius Masterlist
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“Thanks for coming to Level Up Comics!” I smile at the customer as I hand them their bag, a quiet grunt all I get in return before they head out the door, the little bell jingling with their exit. I stretch, walking around from behind the counter and heading back towards the display case where several boxes sit in front, unopened figurines and collectibles pouring from them. My family and friends thought I was crazy for opening a physical media store in this age of digital products. They said no one would come in let alone want to actually buy “this crap.”
But here I am, a few years after opening, and I’m doing pretty good for myself. There are still collectors out there who want their favorites in case something happens to their files. They want the figurines from the original manufacturers, rather than printing them themselves. I can’t blame them. There’s something different, something magical about reading the printed word, having a figure of your favorite character that was made decades ago by something other than a 3D printer in someone’s basement.
The bell jingles and I yell out a greeting, shoving a few more figures in the back of the case before standing and turning, a pair of dark brown eyes meeting mine. I can already feel the smile on my face. 
“Hi, Marcus!” Shit, was that too enthusiastic? If it is, he doesn’t let on, his own smile shyly spreading across his face. “How…how are you?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his large hand, his eyes darting away from mine. “I’m..I’m good. You?”
“Good. That’s good. I mean, I’m good. Good. It’s all…good.” What the fuck?
He chuckles lightly, looking anywhere but at me. “Good.”
We’re both silent for several moments. He’s so hot. Way out of my league hot. And the weird thing is, I don’t even think he realizes just how attractive he is. 
“Did my back issue of X-Men come in?”
“Oh!” I slap my forehead. “I almost forgot! Yes. Let me get that for you.” Trying desperately to hide the heat in my cheeks, I quickly walk around the counter, kneeling to sift through the special order pile. 
“You got more figures in?”
“Yeah,” I yell from my crouched position. “There’s a few bins in the back I haven’t emptied yet. Feel free to have a look!” 
“Thanks.” I hear him shuffle off towards the back of the shop just as I locate his order. The door bell dings again and I stand, smoothing down my jeans. A man stands at the counter, his bright blue eyes roaming up and down my body before her plasters on the most ingenuine smile I’ve ever seen. 
“Hi. How can I help you?” I ask him as I place Marcus’s order on the counter.
 “Hi beautiful. I’m looking for a comic.”
I internally sigh. I already know where this is going. It happens several times a week.
“Well you’ve come to the right shop. What are you looking for?”
He chuckles, intending to be endearing. It isn’t. “I’m looking for a very specific issue of Hawkeye. You know who that is?”
Seriously? “I am very familiar with Hawkeye. Are you?”
He scoffs. “Haha. You’re a funny, pretty thing. Anyway, I’m looking for a specific run of his. Do you know what that means?”
Anger surges through me and I grip the desk to ground myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Marcus at the back of the store, standing and turning towards us but not moving. He’s even hot in my peripheral. 
“Which run are you looking for? Or are you wanting a recommendation?”
He laughs, the vile sound of it echoing off the walls. “A recommendation? From you? What would you know? You’re just a pretty little girl.”
A clunk from the back of the store and I see Marcus trip over one of the boxes. He doesn’t go down, but turns to fix the boxes that he’s kicked over. The man in front of me is unphased, his eyes still on me, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
“Well?” He spits out. 
I look at him, giving him a smile. “Well, if you’re asking me personally, my favorite run is the Matt Fraction run. Not only because of his artistic style and great story, but the fact that they weaved in Clint’s deafness, drawing him wearing his hearing aids, and even doing an entire issue completely in American Sign Language. A great story and representation of a marginalized community from, in my opinion, one of the best and most relatable Avengers. Now, would you like the individual issues, an omnibus, or the digital version?”
The smug smile slowly fades from his face, his eyes hardening. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”
“I do when customers act like a bitch.” 
He grabs the fliers on the counter and throws them at me, turning towards the door. “Fuck you and this place!” He tries to slam the door behind him but he fumbles with the handle, flipping me off one final time before disappearing around the corner. 
I sigh, bending down to pick up the fliers. A hand reaches out, large and inviting, carefully helping me pick up the scattered papers. I look up at him, at Marcus, sweet Marcus. Who had heard all of that. 
“I’m sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”
He hands me the small stack he’s collected, meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to apologize for standing up to a sexist asshole. I should be the one who’s sorry.”
I combine our stacks, both of us standing as I tap them on the counter to even them out. “Why should you apologize?”
“I should’ve come to help,” he rubs the back of his neck, his ear turning slightly pink. 
I shake my head. “No, Marcus don’t worry about it. I get assholes like that all the time. Really, it’s ok.”
He shakes his head. “It’s really not-”
To my own surprise, I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Really, I’m ok. Thank you, Marcus.”
He smiles at me, opening his mouth to say something, but his phone rings from inside his pocket. “Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls it out, tapping on the clear screen only he can see. “Shit. I have to take this. Work. You sure you’re ok?”
I smile, trying not to show my sadness at his leaving. “I am. Hope everything’s ok at work.”
“Thanks. I’ll uh…see you around.” His eyebrows pull together as his phone rings again, his eyes moving down to the screen before he turns around and heads out the door, pausing to give me a wave through the window before he disappears into the crowd. 
I’ll never meet a man owning this shop. They’re either assholes, taken, or hopelessly out of my league. My own phone beeps and I pull it out, scanning the clear screen with my reservation confirmation. I tap the confirm button, nerves flooding my system. 
I can’t believe I signed up for a virtual version of the bachelorette.
—----
I closed the shop early and rushed home to get ready for that night. I arrive promptly at 7pm as they requested, the giant VIRTUAL LIFE logo on the side of the building bathing the sidewalk in bright blue light. I take a deep breath and walk inside, the door disappearing momentarily to let me in before reappearing behind me. The front desk assistant guides me to a row of elevators and instructs me to head to floor 28. I’m the only one in the elevator, the lights illuminating each floor as we pass it. The elevator stops and the doors open to a small waiting room, black leather couches and chairs surround a coffee table with several tablets, each loaded with some form of entertainment. While it looks like there are windows, if you look closely, you can tell they’re simulated, trying to grant us as much privacy as possible. Although, I think it may be more about guarding their own technology secrets. 
“Ivy?” a woman calls my name from the only doorway in the room aside from the elevator. I nod, standing and smoothing down my dress. 
“That’s me.”
“Right this way.” She leads me into another small office, a simple desk with a single chair for me to sit in. She sits opposite me at the desk, tapping in mid air at what I’m assuming is the computer screen in front of her. 
“Ivy it says here you signed up for the bachelorette program to meet a compatible mate. Is that correct?”
Swallowing down my embarrassment, I nod. “Y-yeah.”
She taps a few more things. “Great. Do you know how this works?”
“You guys take a picture of my brain and show me a story?”
She chuckles, the first time her professional demeanor has broken. “Almost but not quite. After we’re done here, you will be taken to the simulation room. You’ve already done your physical-”
“Yeah. They had me put on this suit and they captured the way I moved. Motion capture, I think?”
She nods. “Yes that’s it exactly. This way, your avatar inside your world will move like you. It helps with immersion.” I nod. “They also completed your brain scan to find the most viable dates and look of mate that you are searching for. You indicated you’re looking for a male mate, is that correct?”
I nod. “Yeah. Yes.”
She nods. “Alright. If you’ll go through the door, someone in scanning will take you. Good luck!” She gestures to a door on the opposite wall from where we entered. I go through the door and another woman greats me, leading me to chair where she has me sit and get comfortable. It reminds me of what the dentist chairs used to look like except way more comfortable. She turns to me, holding a helmet with different little lights on it. 
“Any questions?”
“Yeah. So what will he..I mean, how will I know who he is?”
“You will just know. Sort of like in a regular video game, where you can tell who is important to talk to.”
“Ok..but…will he look like him or?”
That’s reassuring. But then she interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t forget, he will be there too also looking for you.”
She shakes her head. “Your algorithm took in your scan and will give him the appearance of someone you find appealing or comforting. We’ve found it’s easier to accept someone if they have an outward appearance you’re already familiar with.”
“So you base connections on personality as opposed to looks?”
She nods. “Those relationships have the highest success rate, so yes.”
“And after, will you show me who he is?”
She nods. “In the simulation, you’ll go on 3 dates. They may be something as simple as communicating in an office to being a superhero or even traveling back in time. The algorithm takes both of your likes, dislikes, and desires and places you in situations. The more you play along and immerse yourself, or yourselves, into the simulation, the better the outcome, meaning a closer connection. And don’t worry - you cannot be physically harmed. And if it’s too much or you want to stop, you only need to say “End simulation”. Please be aware that time may pass differently in the simulation, but you will only be in for an hour. After, you will both meet here, in reality, and can determine whether you’d like to continue with a relationship or not. Any more questions?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not at the moment, anyway.”
She places the helmet on my head, the nodes all changing different colors as it comes in contact with me. She squeezes my shoulder and I look up at her. “Just relax and try to go with the theme. It’s more fun that way, ok?”
I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. “Yeah. Makes sense.”
“Good luck!” She taps a button on her clear screen and my vision fades to black so just a couple of seconds. But then I’m blinking awake, the tips of my fingers tingling and my toes feeling like they just woke up. My vision starts to clear and the room comes into focus. I’m sitting at a bar, a fancier bar, which explains the nice dress. As my hearing levels out, I realize that the blonde man to my right is talking to me, his body shifted in my direction. His grey eyes are slightly unsettling. This can’t be my mate, can it? 
“...and so I had them fired! Can you imagine? I asked for my steak to be medium and they brought it out medium well. That will teach that guy to listen to the customer at his next job.” Grey Eyes chuckles and takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He nods towards the glass in front of me. “Do you want another?”
“What? Oh, uh sure.” 
He flags the bartender down and orders a rum and coke before making a show of leaning on his beefy arm against the bar. “I’m glad you finally saw reason and agreed to come out with me tonight.”
I give him a small smile. “Yeah. Same here.” This doesn’t feel right. Maybe they got it wrong? Someone bumps into me from behind and grey eyes catches me, glaring at the person who bumped me, who had moved on. 
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah. It’ll take more than a drunk asshole to bring me down.” Grey Eyes laughs, picking up his glass and holding it up towards me. “I’ll drink to that.” I glance down to grab my drink, only to find it wasn’t there. I look back at Grey Eyes and see him frozen in place, the smirk on his face completely gone, his glass shaking as he continues to hold it in mid air. My glass appears next to his, lightly clicking against his glass. 
“Now that’s not very nice.” That voice. I would know his voice anywhere. My entire body relaxes as I turn to look into the dark brown eyes that I love so much.
“Marcus!” I exclaim, ignoring the vein in grey eye’s neck that’s threatening to pop. Marcus on the other hand, looks good. I mean, he always looks good to me but he’s dressed in nice black pants and a light blue button up shirt with matching black jacket. I’m not sure how a blue shirt makes his brown eyes pop, but it does. Marcus pushes his black frames up his nose.
“Hey, Ivy. Sorry to interrupt your date, but this not so kind gentlemen put a little something in your drink.”
“He what?” I blink rapidly a few times, trying to pry my eyes away from him. Grey Eyes vein relaxes somewhat and he sputters out.
“Fuck you man! We’re on a date! What….what are you doing to me?”
Marcus shrugs. “Well, you wanted to make it so she can’t move. Only fair if I return the favor.” 
Grey Eyes goes to say something else, but then seems to recognize the man standing next to me, his eyes going wide.
“Aren’t you the guy that can move metal?”
My eyes snap to Marcus, who is smiling. “I see I have a fan.”
Grey Eyes tries to backtrack. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get her to loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”
Marcus looks at me, his brown eyes wide and smiling. “Ivy, do you wish to continue your date with this man?”
“Nope.” I pop the “p” sound at the end of the word. “Little hard to have fun when my date is trying to render me unconscious.”
Marcus waves the bartender over. “Call the police. This man is in possession of Freeze Me.”
 A handful of what felt like seconds later, several officers show up and arrest Grey Eyes, who barely puts up a struggle. I turn towards Marcus, my smile stretching my face as I grab his arm. “My hero.”
His eyes dart around the room, his arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It was nothing.”
Gosh he’s so cute when he does that neck rub thing. Wait. Gotta play along. 
“Is Marcus the Metal Bender actually acting shy around me?”
He chuckles nervously and I think how perfect they coded him. Like he was picked out of my brain. Which I guess he was. 
“Just trying to be respectful.”
I wish he wouldn’t. Wait, are we even allowed to have sex in here? Wow, getting ahead of yourself there, Ivy.
“Youwannagetoutofhere?” He speaks so fast it all comes out in a jumble and I cock my head to the side. 
“What?”
He swallows hard and I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Hell yeah I do.” 
—-
It’s a few weeks later, or at least it feels like some time has passed. That lady did say time passes differently here. Now I’m in an office building, a stack of files in my arms, walking down the hall. A quick glance around tells me I’m in the Heroics head quarters. Marcus appears from around the corner and looks up at me, smiling and walking towards me. But then a man in a much too tight blue suit with a glowing M on it joins him, Marcus’s shoulders sagging slightly as he gives me a sad little wave.
“When are you two going to go on a date already?” A woman with bright pink hair appears next to me. 
“I uh, me?”
She slaps my shoulder. “Yes, you Ivy.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Aren’t you the one who confessed to having a crush on our heroic leader?”
I will the heat rising in my face to not show. “Oh, I uh..I-”
“You know he likes you too.” Her jaw drops when she sees the confused look on my face. “Oh don’t tell me you can’t tell! That man can hardly look at you and he’s taken down alien forces by just staring at them.”
She feels like a close friend so I go with it. “Yeah, ok I like him. Keep your voice down, will you?” She continues walking with me to the end of the hall where I deposit the stack of files into several slots, each one making a small whoosh sound as they’re whisked away to their destinations.
When I’m done, Pink Hair gently grabs my face and turns me to her. “I love you, Ivy. You know you’re like the sister I never had. So please listen to me when I say ask that man out before something happens and you regret not ever trying.”
Well fuck. That is…really spot on to reality isn’t it? 
I never get a chance to answer her as the entire building suddenly shakes, alarms and lights screeching and illuminating the halls. One of the tall filing cabinets starts to topple in my direction and I can only look on in horror, frozen in place by the rumbling building. I throw my hands up, as if that’s going to stop it, but nothing happens. The cabinet is laid gently on its side, floating to the ground. 
“Come on!” I look up into those dark eyes, Marcus extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” He tightens his grip and somehow leads us out of the chaotic building out into the streets. Which is also nuts. People are running everywhere and…wait. Is that an alien spaceship coming towards us??
Marcus pulls me behind a wall, glancing around it and waving hand signals to a small group of heroes across the street behind another wall, Pink Hair amongst them. He turns back to me, his face full of worry as he starts to take his shirt off, exposing…not skin but a uniform? No. His hero costume, which is a black shirt,and arm bands. He sees me staring down and he shrugs. “I normally have a tach vest but we’re out of time.” 
“Should you not go out there without one?”
Marcus shakes his head. “I have to support my team. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I mean, people safe.”
“You could just stay here with me? The others can handle-” my words are cut off by a giant laser beam cutting through the street, coming directly from the ship. 
He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Get yourself to safety. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to be safe.” Another laser beam, the sound of some smaller buildings crumbling to the ground. “Go! Get to safety!” He releases my hand. 
I get a glimpse of the deep craters that lasers had left in their wake through the cement of the street, the piles of rubble and dust, and this spurs me on.
“Marcus?” He leans against the wall, readying himself, but he looks at me. 
“Yeah?”
Mustering up my courage, I lean towards his hunched body, softly planting a kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I see his chest heaving, his eyes moving between mine.
“Please make it back, Marcus.”
Before he can answer, the ship comes into view and his team moves out, following behind Miracle Guy, who had flown right up the ship and started punching it. Marcus’s head whips around, assessing the situation and I squeeze his arm once more before quickly moving out of the immediate area. I know I should move more, but I can’t get hurt so… 
The fight that ensues between the ship, the aliens inside, and the Heroics team is nothing short of brilliant. They may argue in the halls, but in the field, they all take direction from Marcus, who is a brilliant leader, playing all of their strengths. Marcus bends metal like it’s made of playdough, a beautiful dance of destruction and strength. Then the ship comes crashing down, everyone moving out of the way except-
“Marcus!” I emerge from my hiding place at a full run as the smoke around the alien ship that’s currently scraping along the road as it crashes and envelops Marcus. The ship stops, groaning as it falls back and lays still, no other life forms moving or detected on board. For a few moments, no one moves. Then Marcus emerges from the smoke, his face soot stained and a small gash in his shirt and along his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. 
“Marcus!” I run to him, his eyes finding mine, his entire body relaxing as he realizes I’m safe, just before I launch myself into his arms, our lips crashing together as my right hand fists in his shirt, my left tugging on his hair. Miracle Guy wolf whistles but I couldn’t care less. I feel his tongue gently lick out and I part my lips, letting him take whatever he wants. But before it can go any further, my vision starts to blacken, the last thing I see is Marcus’s eyes going out of focus as he succumbs to his own transition to the next simulation.
—----
I find myself blinking awake for the second time in what feels like weeks, but I know in reality it’s only been maybe 20 minutes that I was in there. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, my vision and hearing clearing and I find myself in…a breakroom. Am I back at the Heroics? The slight weight in my hand takes my focus and I realize I’m holding a cup of tea. I must be on my break. I walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking outside. I’m not back at Heroics - the cityscape is all wrong. I hear the door open behind me and I turn, the smile on my face widening as Marcus enters the room. His hair is shorter than the last simulation. And his face is clean shaven, which is a look I’ve never seen on him before. Not that it matters - he’s beautiful no matter what. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s a little older. Probably hot as-
“Hey, Ivy.” Marcus smiles down at me, grabbing his own mug and pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. I notice the FBI logo on the mug and figure that must be where we are.
“Hey,  Marcus.” I take a sip of my tea as we both watch the other. But then the door opens again, another agent walking into the room. He claps his hands together, looking at us.
“Hey! Congrats on finally cracking that art case, you two! 8 months is a long time to do an operation like that. Great work!” He shakes both of our hands as we thank him. Marcus catches my eye and, with a small movement, jerks his head towards the door. I nod, thanking the other agent again and follow Marcus out of the tiny breakroom and down the hall, stopping in front of an office door labeled MARCUS PIKE. I wonder if that's his name back In reality. He extends his arm towards his office and I head inside, smiling at him as I do, noting how his eyes dart around, that hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him.
“I uh…great work, Ivy.” 
“You too.” 
He puts his hands in his pockets and finally looks me in my eyes and he nods once. 
“Listen. Do you..uh..I mean, would you like to…this is coming out all weird.”
I squeeze his arm and he looks down at my hand, taking a deep breath. 
“Would you like to get something to eat?”
My stomach erupts in butterflies. “Like on a date?”
The redness in his eyes spreads down onto his cheeks as he stammers, gesturing around vaguely. “No! No, not uh. Not a date.”
I can feel my face falling. “Oh.”
“Uh, unless you…uh…unless you want to? Make it a…a date?” His eyes are wide and bright, like a damn puppy. 
I smile, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Marcus.” 
His smile is bright, lighting up the room. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He let's out a sigh of relief. “Great! I found this great pancake place.”
Pancakes? I love this man already. “It's nearly dinner time!” I can't help the small giggle that I let out. 
“Yeah, well you said your favorite food is pancakes. And they're open 24 hours.”
He remembered my favorite food? I'm so screwed. Damn this program is good. “You're right! I'd love to get pancakes with you. On a date. For a date. When will this date be, by the way?”
“Oh. I uh, would it be too weird if we went tonight? Is that too soo-”
“No! I mean, yes! No it's not too soon. I'd love to go!” If my heart could stop beating through my chest, that would be great. It's not that I'm some young girl getting asked on her first date. I just really like Marcus. Or whomever this is. My heart sinks at the thought of it not being the Marcus I know in reality. 
“Great! I'll pick you up at 7? Unless you'd rather meet me there? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Marcus, we just spent 8 months together on assignment. I think I'm comfortable around you.”
He chuckles. “Fair point.” His office phone rings and he apologizes to me, picking it up. I wave ro him and he mouths “See you at 7!”
—----
He picks me up with a flourish of flowers, all long legs and button up shirt that I'm really dying to unbutton. If that's even allowed here. 
But what's more than that is the conversation. I thought I had learned everything about him over the last 8 months. I was very wrong. 
“You were a bass player in a band?” I ask, choking on my drink.
He laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “What can I say? I wanted to meet more people.”
“I bet you had all the girls hanging on you.”
Marcus shrugs. “Not really. They all want to date the drummer or the singer.”
“Really? Not the sexy bass player?”
Marcus takes too large of a sip of his drink and coughs, pounding his chest. “No, not the…you think I'm sexy?”
I set my fork down and meet his eyes. “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here.”
We spend several moments, just looking at each other and then I remember that he's not a simulation but a real person on the other end of those eyes. My heart squeezes thinking about how it won't actually be Marcus. Despite that thought, we really get along well and the conversation flows freely between us. Sooner than I’d like, we’re leaving the small diner, heading back to my place. Marcus parks in my driveway and turns to me, his eyes bright and wide like a damn puppy. We had been talking about books, one of my favorite topics.
“..and I know everyone complains that Tolkien takes 20 pages to describe a flower, but I really love that attention to detail. It makes it more immersive for me. One of these days I’ll get you to read Lord of the Rings!” I tap my fingers on his bicep to emphasize my point.
Marcus rubs his neck. “I uh…I already have.”
My jaw drops. “What? When??”
“When you told me it was your favorite book. Or books, I should say.”
I think back. “Marcus, that was…months ago!”
His eyes meet mine, the light from the street lamp outside adding a sparkle to them. “You said they were your favorite so…I read them.”
My stomach does flips, my heart beating. “You read them all for me?”
He nods. “Even the Silmarillion.”
I can’t help it. This is so fucking hot. I reach out and grip his shirt, pulling him to me, his soft lips pressing against mine, the heat between us quickly rising. His large hand cradles the back of my head, holding me to him as his other hand settles on my hip, squeezing it lightly. We make out for several minutes, Marcus kissing and nipping a path down my neck. 
“Do you want to come in?” I ask breathlessly. 
He pulls back and looks at me. “I do but-” he whispers. “Are we allowed?”
“I…I’m not sure. We could try to-” 
But then my vision starts to blacken around the edges, and before I pass out, I hear Marcus say “See you in the next one!” before we both black out.
—----
Now familiar with the way I wake in these simulations, I wiggle my fingers and toes, giving myself a moment to figure out where I am. The room looks…ok, this isn’t from my time. Roman decor and pillars line the grand bedroom, some food laying on a small table for, I’m assuming, me. A quick glance down shows me in a beautiful white garb and I marvel for a moment at how clean it is. 
BOOM!
The ground shakes and I duck down, completely caught off guard. It’s only after the boom dies down that I hear it - the distant sound of clanking swords and men yelling. I walk to the small window set into the wall and look out, my brain taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. 
I’m several floors up in a sort of round building, a castle I realize as I see the lower tiers, more square in their shape. I’m sure the grounds would have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the massive amounts of soldiers fighting in the streets. I can make out their bodies, the blood, sweat, and dirt spreading almost like a disease. Spear and swords burst from chests or stomachs, limbs separating from their bodies to be lost to the throngs of soldiers. The seem to be moving closer to the castle, which I’m not sure if I want to happen or not. Turning on my sandaled heel, I walk to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen. Hearing nothing, I try to open it. Nothing. The door doesn’t open or move, the handle locked into place.
Well, fuck. 
Before I can try and figure out how far down the next ledge is out the window, or if I can even fit out the window, I hear a commotion outside my door. It’s not loud, but I hear a man gurgling and sputtering, a small bit of crimson blood pooling under the door. I grab an iron rod by the fire and hold it up, preparing to defend myself. I know they said I can’t be hurt but damn this feels real. The door opens and a man walks through, wide, muscular shoulders under his Roman armor, Medusa proudly engrained on the front. I lunge, the iron rod above my head but the man turns and grabs the rod and I  would’ve fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught me.
“Ivy! Here you are!” 
It’s him. Marcus. Only he’s older, probably closer to 50. Grey streaks in his curls and patchy facial hair only accentuate his beauty, a new scar forming across his nose, bleeding lightly down his face. He’s covered in dirt and blood and ash, but I throw my arms around him anyway.
“Marcus! Thank God, what’s going on?”
He cups my face, pushing my hair out of my face. “You are so beautiful, my love. I would bring every army from the entire world to rescue you from this horrid Emperor.” And then his lips are on mine, urgency behind them, but a desire to show me how l much I am loved. This man apparently started the battle outside, for me, and still wants to make sure that I know how important I am to him? 
“We have to flee. Come!” But before we can leave, the door flies open and 5 guards file in, grabbing Marcus and holding his arms out to his sides. I pick the iron rod up from the floor and run towards them, unsure of what I would do but I know I’ll beat the shit out of them until they let him go. But another hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, twisting it hard so I drop the rod. I look up into the eyes of a man that I’m assuming is the Emperor, his golden robes flowing around him. He looks vaguely familiar, like that one asshole from the comic shop.
“Now, now my dear. What were you planning on doing with that?”
I open my mouth to reply, but then he smacks me across the face and I slam down onto the floor. Ok, that hurt. Didn’t she say I wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe she meant I wouldn’t die. Marcus swears, cursing the Emperor for hitting me. 
“Are you alright, my love?” Marcus grunts as the men punch him in the stomach. 
“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’re kind are dying out. I told you to just accept your fate and take your banishment, but instead, you stayed behind and fell in love with a woman. How…stupid.” Marcus tries to speak but he’s punched again, his body hunching over. I try to stand, but then I’m drug up by my hair, the Emperor’s fingers digging at my scalp as he pulls me to his side. 
“This one?” His eyes rake over my body. “She is attractive, I’ll give you that. Even if she is attracted to a brute like you.” I jerk my body, trying to get out of his grip but it’s too tight, my hands gripping his arms to try and get some relief from the stinging at the back of my scalp.
“Let her go. You can kill me, I don’t care, but let her go.”
The Emperor looks from me to Marcus, a sick smile spreading on his face. “I didn’t go through the trouble of kidnapping her just to have you give up. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do instead. LOOK AT ME!” The Emperor bellows from beside me, Marcus’s eyes moving from mine to his. 
He steps closer to Marcus, dragging me a little beside him. “Such a wild man. How about this: you watch as I take her. Then, I’ll drive my sword through her belly so she can slowly bleed out on the floor. Only after the light has left her eyes will I either kill you or lock you up to suffer the rest of your days. How does that sound?”
The darkness that settles over Marcus is unforgiving, his eyes hardening in resolution. He growls and screams, throwing the soldiers off him as he grabs his sword from the ground, swinging it and taking out all of the soldiers in only a handful of moves. He spins, aiming his sword at the Emperor, who has now moved me in front of him as a human shield, a knife to my throat. 
“I’ll kill her, Marcus! You are too weak to save her!”
Marcus’s gaze moves briefly to mine and I release my weak grip on the Emperor’s arms, letting them fall to my side. Marcus shifts his body ever so slightly before he throws something from behind his back. The object whizzes past my cheek, scratching it slightly as the blade buries itself in the Emperor’s neck. He drops his knife and clutches at his throat, his eyes wide with fear. He crumbles to the floor and sputters for several moments before his body stops moving. I run to Marcus, throwing my arms around him again. He grunts and I remember the soldiers hitting him.
“Are you hurt?”
He clutches his side. “I’ve had worse.”
“You are so fucking hot right now,” I speak quietly to him and he smiles. “I’m covered in dirt and blood and sweat.”
“Stop trying to turn me on more I already said you’re hot.”
He laughs but then inhales sharply at the pain. “I’ll take it, I guess.”
“No, that’s my job.” I bring my lips to his, pushing him back towards the chaise lounge chair on the other side of the room. He sits, pulling me onto his lap as I straddle him, my dress getting dirty as I shift my hips. He groans, his large hands sliding up my bare thighs under my dress and fuck! My vision starts to blacken and I hear Marcus whine out some expletives as we both are brought out of the simulation. 
—---------------------------
Hopefully for the last time, I blink awake, wiggling my fingers and toes as I look around the room. The helmet is gently lifted from my head and the woman that had put it on me moves into my eyesight.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m here.”
“Good. Wait just a moment for your body to fully catch up. Do you have any questions?”
“Yeah why did you stop us having sex?”
She studies me for a moment. “It is not allowed in the programming.”
“I cross my arms. “Well your programming is stupid.”
She chuckles so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “The algorithm wants you and your mate to match based on personality and emotions, not just physical.”
“I can guarantee you it wasn’t just physical.” 
She helps me stand and I shake my limbs out, full feeling returning to them. I smooth out my dress as she readjusts my hair. “Are you ready to meet him?”
Him. My reality man. “Y..yeah.” 
“Right through that door. He’s already waiting for you.” I move towards the door but she stops me. “I just have to say, I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a situation like yours and his.”
I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”
So smiles softly. “So…rooted in reality.”
Yeah that’s not confusing. But she doesn’t explain further, turning back to the chair and helmet, starting to clean them. I take a deep breath to steady myself and open the door, walking through and closing it behind me. The man on the other side of the room, my mate, turns towards me and we both gasp.
“Marcus?”
“Ivy?”
We meet in the middle of the room and I cup his face, Marcus tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is it really you?”
He nods. “Yeah. You? Real?”
“Real.”
He pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply, but then pulling back a moment later. 
“I’ve been dying to ask you out since forever. I never thought I’d be paired with you, here of all places.”
I cock my head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”
“Have you seen yourself? You’re entirely out of my league.”
“I’m fairly certain it’s the other way around.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I think we went through several first dates in there. Plus, we’re already friends. Can we…that is, can you take me back to your place first? Then we can eat?”
Marcus’s eyes darken, his hands finding a place on my hips as he pulls me against his body, letting me feel how into that idea he is. 
We’re married a year later.
—----
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little-pondhead · 2 years
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Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?
I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.
The way I SPRINTED to my computer.
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Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.
TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)
Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.
Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.
Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)
As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.
Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.
So where does Dani fit in?
Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?
A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.
The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.
Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.
The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.
Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."
And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.
What the f u c k.
Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)
She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.
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kkpwnall · 1 year
Text
wanted: pool boy at the vampire mansion
for my darlingest louseph @cheatghost who a few days ago sent me the words "pool boy steve at eddie's vampire mansion" at 6 in the morning and immediately got my brain whirring. like 0 to 60, dead asleep to wide awake and writing. so here's less than 1k words of pure ridiculous fun.
[also on ao3]
It’s not a bad gig, really. Even if it stipulates in his contract that he has to be shirtless while he’s on the property. But Steve also signed the contract in his blood so he’s not sure how legal it is. 
Plus the pay is insane. He quit his other jobs, and he’s basically got free reign of the pool all day. So he takes his time with the skimmer fishing out all the leaves and dead bugs, swims laps for a while. Spends the rest of the day in a lounger before adjusting the chemicals so it’s perfect by morning.
What do vampires need with a pool anyway?
The four guys stay in the house whenever Steve comes by, but they're friendly enough and wave at him through the dark tinted windows. 
One guy ogles him the whole time he works. Not that he really minds. So what if Steve gets to work early, just to put on sunscreen? Who’s gonna know if he puts some extra flex in his muscles while he works? And who cares if they’ve got the cleanest pool in all of Indiana? It’s not hurting anyone. 
But Steve's drawn to him the same way he was drawn to the ad in the first place, with his long dark curly hair and unending collection of black band shirts. His crooked smile and dimples and shining brown eyes.
It's just... they've never once spoken. And Steve is dying to get to know this guy who makes the goofiest faces at him. Who was pissed when Steve laughed the first time he did, hands up like devil horns, tongue lolling and eyes crossed. Until Steve made his own face back. 
This guy, who plays elaborate charades with Steve through the glass, trying and failing to do the classic walking-down-stairs bit. Who went boneless when one of the guys in his band (? coven? pod? Ask Dustin what a group of vampires is called.) dragged him away while Steve mimed crying, waving an imaginary hanky at him. This guy, who clutched his heart and fell over when Steve lowered his shades and winked at him one day.
And it's because of those shades that Steve has to drive all the way back to the mansion late one night to retrieve them from his usual chair.
When he gets there, someone’s floating in the pool. Someone, with long curly hair spilling all around their head. Someone, wearing all their clothes, and Steve can't tell from the weak pool light if they're face up or face down, but they sure as hell aren't moving. 
His lifeguard training takes over between one step and the next, as he bolts for the pool, launching into the water, and throwing himself forward with broad strokes. 
Except when Steve gets to him, the guy isn't drowning, he’s sputtering and swearing and pushing away from him in the water. “What are you doing here?!”
“You're not drowning...” Steve says blankly, trying to catch his breath as he treads water. 
“No! And thank you for the rescue, Lancelot, but you need to get out of here.” His long hair streams over his face as he spins while Steve paddles around him to make sure he’s really alright. 
“Lancelot?” he asks, just to keep the guy talking, to hear more from his honeyed voice. Better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 
“A knight in shining armor,” the guy mumbles, trying to hide his face. “A hero rescuing fair damsels and slaying vile beasts.” 
Steve chuckles, but doesn’t miss the venom in his last words. He catches him by the upper arm to stop his spinning. “No, I know who Lancelot is, it’s just–”
It’s just he’s even prettier close up. It’s just his skin is freezing cold in the sun-warmed pool water. It’s just he’s looking at Steve, caught somewhere between a grimace and a grin, and his teeth are so so sharp. 
“I’m Steve,” he says, moving closer. Entirely entranced by the pool light, the moonlight, the starlight, glimmering in his eyes. Steve’s hand has a mind of its own, rising out of the water to cup the guy’s cheek with a wet palm, “And you’re…” 
Gently traces his lower lip, runs his thumb over the sharp canine, careful not to touch the pointed tip. 
“You’re beautiful,” Steve breathes. 
The guy surges forward, reeling Steve in with a hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him fiercely. Steve kisses him back just as fervently, wraps his arms around his waist and kicks out with his legs to keep them afloat, as his tongue slides past the guy’s teeth to swirl and dance with his. 
It's messy and uncoordinated and they sink and bob in the water as they move against each other. The guy's fingers tangle in the shaggy hair at the base of his neck, twisting and snagging. Steve groans and stretches a broad palm up between the guy's shoulder blades, pressing further into him, drinking all of him in.
“It’s Eddie,” he says, pulling back and panting when they finally part. “I’m Eddie.”
Steve grins at Eddie and kisses him again, pushing them through the water towards the edge at the shallow end of the pool. He can think of better uses for his legs right now.
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