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#and i feel blind to its faults
bernie-jsyk · 7 months
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i still have to cut 400 words from the wip to make it Actually Novella Sized and being so close to submitting it is so scary because, like, are the characters Here enough? Do you love them? Do you want to push some of them down the stairs?
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caffeinatedopossum · 1 year
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My constant exposure to the internet and social media is most definitely making me worse but I really have nothing else to do. Like I'm disabled and have no money. I can't even buy a book to read, I would have to read it online
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cryptvokeeper · 10 months
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Man. I wanna talk abt Rise Leo again now
#I’m SORRY it’s not my fault I picked the one everyone gets really annoying about as my favorite#No bro I’m different bro I swear bro wait please-#It’s like. I got bait-and-switched SO HARD with Leo on my first watch#I went in essentially blind outside of like. Basic knowledge of what a teenage mutant ninja turtle IS from cultural osmosis#But I didn’t know these characters I had no expectations#So I watched Minotaur Maze & I see the cocky blue jokester character whos worse than the rest of the cast and has a hint(TM) of insecurity#and I went “oh. Ive seen this character type before. This is the Lance voltron. This is the early-seasons sokka. I know how this goes.”#And I’m sort of at the point in my life where I’m over that trope Yknow? It was cool when I was 15 and hated myself but now that’s old hat.#So I didn’t care for Leo that much#And then I get to Many Unhappy Returns and that whole perception gets FLIPPED ON ITS HEAD#I REALIZE IVE BEEN PLAYED#TRICKED#BAMBOOZLED#The confidence wasn’t a ruse at all! and that reframes so much from season one and so much going forward!!!#He’s a cocky magnificent bastard and would probably be a badass hero if he gave a shit but instead is only here to be silly with his fam#And that’s AWESOME#But anyway I feel like most people never had that bait and switch moment#They just moved forward with the belief that Leo’s is a bit of a loser and hates himself for it#And then fandom does what fandom do and hyperfocuses on that one trait to the point of mischaracterization#And I’m sitting here like “I love all the content for my blorbo but oh no a lot of it’s weird and off”#Rottmnt
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kafkaguy · 2 years
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i do think it's really sad when faith is misinterpreted because of the effects of organised religion. like certain views and analyses of a religion completely invalidate the individuals experience, and something that one person mocks or is frustrated with is something holy and important to another person, and its even more frustrating when 9 times out of 10 the person mocking this thing has completely misunderstood it or isnt even attempting to see the good in it. not trying to say anything with this i just think there's a lot of misunderstanding and assumptions based on personal bad experience with or surface level understanding of a certain religion and it does way more harm than good. or whatever
#this applies to any religion but im specifically thinking of judaism and christianity#the laws and the way of life of judaism that someone very devout will choose to follow . well its sickening to see that ridiculed#especially on the basis of 'progressiveness'. its gross. im not religious but my grandmother is a practicing jew and#i love partaking in traditions and celebrating shabbat and other holidays with her#and when people take our rules and take my grandmas lifestyle as a laughing point and a 'gotcha' to homophobes#its fucking stupid!!!#and as for christianity well i think a lot of people forget that at its core its a very beautiful and welcoming faith#and jesus was a pretty cool dude#and its the systemicisation (?) of christianity and the way faith became an institution thats the problem#not the innocent + harmless person who believes that their faith will earn them eternal life like that's not a bad thing#and there is forgiveness the whole point of christianity is forgiveness!!!!! dont let the catholics and the orthodox trick u into#feeling guilt and trying ur whole life to earn grace and forgiveness!!!! again im literally not religious and definitely not christian#but a little understanding of what their is basis of faith is important!!!!!!#and yeah the majority of powerful christians suck but again thats the church's fault!!!!!!!!!!!!#this is such a stupid post but idk people seem real quick and eager to villify religion#any religion but it is definitely a huge issue of islamophobia and antisemitism#and while i do obviously hate a lot of what christianity has become and is associated with#i think a lot of the hate and criticism is misguided and people tend to focus on aspects of faith in a totally blinded and misguided way#like. u dont really know what ur talking about here do u#same with judaism god some people are so stupid about what jews believe and what scripture says!!!!! do ur research talk to a faithful jew#or mind ur own business!!!!!!!!!#delete later#Sorry.
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phum 🤝🏽 phukao; justified anger, extremely questionable ways of revenge.
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Chromaggia on the Lucifer Kane playlist Chromaggia on the Lucifer Kane playlist Chromaggia on the Lucifer Kane playlist they put fucking Chromaggia on the Lucifer Kane playlist
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understandableparadox · 2 months
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a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.
quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.
oh and spoilers. i guess.
the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.
the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.
the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.
the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds
the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.
the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".
having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.
don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.
if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.
pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.
there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.
this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.
this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.
13. Charlie:
(see what i mean about that red thing?)
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as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.
her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice
its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.
character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.
now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.
she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?
14. Vaggie
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why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?
I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.
she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.
i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.
christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way
15. Alastor.
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God Damn
where to start.
"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?
his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.
tumblr sexy man bait
he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.
his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.
his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.
he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.
personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.
im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.
16. Angel Dust
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what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.
all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")
I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.
not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.
i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.
same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.
17. Carmilla carmine
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are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?
Big Yoai Hands
ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.
A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-
her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.
i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.
18. cherri bomb
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that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt
decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.
19. egg boiz
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absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.
20. Emily
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im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character
does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie
We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.
good contrast with the other angels on screen.
Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???
21. Husk
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keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?
one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.
has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.
huge potential, little pay off.
22. lillith
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I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.
alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.
23. lucifer morningstar
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no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.
few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.
would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.
that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.
24. Adam.
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alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.
I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up
I fucking hate his mask
We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.
25. Niffty
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again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.
token straight
keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization
you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?
26. Sir Pentious
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the secret season one redeemed.
the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.
essentially a child after the first episode.
actually a snake which i appreciate.
no where near steampunky enough.
27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.
28. Valentino
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gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED
only a moth some of the time.
sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.
it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.
29. Vox
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legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.
propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.
why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?
same body shape as literally every other male character.
tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.
30. Valvette
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the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".
apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.
apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias
we know so much about her from things outside of the show.
was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.
im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.
but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.
this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.
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shiny-jr · 10 months
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from DIASOMNIA
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing​‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.
Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde
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Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.
You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.
To my dearest human,
I understand the pain I have caused you.
Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.
I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.
Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.
Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.
For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.
Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.
Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.
If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.
I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.
Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done. 
For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue. 
I will await the moment I am summoned.
Forever yours,
Malleus Draconia
That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream. 
You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink. 
You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue. 
“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.” 
Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.” 
Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks. 
This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier. 
As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed. 
If you’re reading this, 
This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes. 
Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco. 
I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.
All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field. 
Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet. 
Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved. 
But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly. 
Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you. 
They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable. 
There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment. 
Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you. 
Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll. 
I eagerly wait for word from you. 
Until we meet again soon, 
Lilia Vanrouge
None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest. 
Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time? 
“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?” 
“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago. 
“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.” 
Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...” 
You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read. 
This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries. 
Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...” 
A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.” 
Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!” 
Dear player, 
I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies. 
I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise. 
I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain. 
Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us? 
Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay. 
You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor. 
After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient. 
Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace. 
Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you. 
If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now... 
Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace. 
I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask. 
This is a pledge that will not be broken. 
Cordially, 
Silver
This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly. 
But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either. 
Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.” 
At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?” 
“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.” 
Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.
“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile. 
The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there. 
As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind. 
Great Player, 
As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.
I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary! 
To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!
Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...
But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you! 
I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self! 
I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth! 
From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well. 
Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know. 
Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds! 
How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be! 
It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written! 
I will make sure they are delivered posthaste! 
Faithfully, 
Sebek Zigvolt 
Great... you’re back to being unnerved again. 
There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you. 
Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster. 
As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve. 
Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––
“Hey!” 
You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.
“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”
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puripurin · 3 months
Text
— "What the fuck." You started at the merman who wriggled around for space. His eyes looked at you in fear as he saw you, before a blush had spread across his face.
Up until 30 seconds ago, you had lived a normal life, well, except for the obscene amount of work you were stressed out with. So you hopped on the boat your parents had gifted you some years ago and sailed into the sea. The feel of the ocean breeze hitting your face was a familiar sensation to you.
This was because your parents were fishermen and loved to eat seafood, and naturally, you had gravitated towards seafood, but with prices these days and your never-ending workload, it didn't allow you to do anything without setting you back on your tight deadlines. Until today.
You had gotten a whole week of paid vacation because a coworker was threatening to bring them to court for a long list of harassment. So they gave the people who worked the most a one week paid vacation. Though, to her, it wasn't enough, so you're getting a paid vacation week while they are still going to get sued. Whatever, its their fault either way.
Anyways, how did you reel in a merman that shouldn't even exist? Frankly, you don't know either. You had accidentally started to daydream, which turned into you not realizing something was caught, so instinctively, you were able to reel in a merman.
"H-huuuumann?" His deep moss green eyes stared at up at you with interest whilst you nearly got blinded by the shimmering gleem of his scales that were scattered across his cheeks. He stopped his advancements towards you until it was difficult to hold up his neck to see you.
"Erm... sorry for catching you, I was daydreaming. I'll unhook the fish hook attached to you..." You apologized and went down to unhook him, only for him to pull down your pants and underwear down, making you fall on the bench below you and stuffing his face in your genitals.
"Hey! W-what are you doing?" You pushed his face away, to which he pouted to. He sat there for a while as you tried to push him off the boat, to no avail.
"I... Accceppt thhis marrriaage!" He excitedly said as he tugged on your pants to gently pull it off again, but you held on tightly to your pants.
"What marriage? I didn't propose to you?" You evaded from his pulling hands in confusion.
"Whennn youuu reeeeledd mmeee inn dummmyy!" He slurred his words once more. "Shtop! I waant too tasstte you firrst beeforrre you tassteeee mee!" He huffed before his nails turned into sharp claws that shreaded your pants, then pulled down your underwear again and happily stuffing his face and licking your crotch with his tongue that felt rough.
Once more, you tried to move away but only ended up moaning at the feeling. Your face was slightly hot as you looked away but was swiftly pulled back in for a kiss, tasting your own fluids.
"Ah... finally... now it's your turn, cutie pie. We have to go to my hometown to get married <3"
"WHAT!?!? Firstly, no! Secondly, i will drown!"
"... Who said you can say no? When you reeled me, it was akin to a marriage proposal. Also, that's why you suck my dick and kiss me <333"
"WHAT--"
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Was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when i saved a portion of it, i didn't see that i was save so i went back in to edit it to see what's rong before i saved it and for a slpilt second i saw the rest of it before it saved, so i lost majority of my work.
So now it looks like tjis. Womp womp. I think tjis is an afab reader? But i tried to make it gn as possible but i wannted a weird ass mermaid culture where to speak another's language, you gotta eat them out/suck them off before kissing person to speak. At first i wanted him to just kiss in order to get the language js like starfire but i was like,, so what do i do with him tryna eat you out??,, then boom yeahh.
Also, yo quero voy en me casaaaaaa *cries pathetically* No me gusta Español :((((((( not proofread. L
Edit: i forgot about tags. Mb.
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celiastjamesoscar · 5 months
Text
Night Shift
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Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader. Sam x reporter!reader
Summary: Sam blamed you for the 2022 attacks, she blamed you for everything. But guilt drives people into blindness, and Sam eventually finds herself seeking your comfort.
AN: this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, so I apologize if at times it seems redundant. Based off of this request!
Warnings: angst, slight cursing, mentions of past drug addiction, small part of canon typical Scream violence, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of alcoholism, Tara is a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything!
My Masterlist
Word Count: 18.0K
Nothing. That’s all you could think about as you listened to the sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor. This was your fault. You were the reason Tara was now in the hospital with multiple stab wounds and a broken leg. If only you had gotten to her house sooner, she wouldn’t be in this position. All your friends tried to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that you had no idea some dipshit in a mask was going to attack her, but you knew better.
You were only nine when it happened, but you could still feel the sharp pain of Jill Roberts’ knife plunging deep inside of your abdomen. Sometimes, you swore you could still hear her black combat boots sneaking around on the wooden floor, and the only thing that would play throughout your mind was the sweet release of not having to look over your shoulder at every sound.
The sound of Tara’s heartbeat motioning increasing in speed pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey, Tara. It’s alright,” you whispered to the sleeping girl, but you got no response. Her heartbeat motioning began peeping so rapidly, that your own heartbeat began thumping in your ears, and it eventually blocked out Tara’s.
Your heartbeat echoed throughout your ears as it continued its rapid pace of 150 beats per minute. You had no idea why you were anxious, but then your surroundings suddenly changed. You were no longer in the monotone gray walls of a hospital, but you now found yourself in Tara’s kitchen. The smaller girl was no longer in her hospital gown; she now wore a pink long sleeve shirt and jeans, and you instantly knew where this was going.
You tried to scream, but no sound left your throat as you watched Tara answer that dreaded phone call. The pounding in your ears continued as you began to sweat and frantically tried to move, but your feet were glued to the floor; no matter how hard you tried to move, you simply could not compel your body to move. You watched as Tara fought against Ghostface, and just like every night, you watched as Ghostface plunged his knife deep into Tara’s stomach. Over and over again.
But unlike the real events that conspired, you couldn’t save Tara. In this version, you watched as Tara bled out onto the floor, her crimson red blood staining the nicely wooded flooring. Her screams were the only thing that drowned out your heartbeat, and you begged it to stop.
“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” Tara cried out in a broken voice as blood now began to seep from her mouth as she tried to crawl toward you, but Ghostface stopped her. In a single motion, he leaned down to Tara and pulled her up by her hair, and slit her throat. When he stood up, you were met with those haunting hollowed out eyes, and when you blinked, the mask was gone.
Jill Roberts stood before you with murderous eyes as she slowly started to advance toward you. You tried to walk backward, but your feet wouldn’t move. Jill was not an arms length away, and you noticed the beautiful glint of light that reflected off the blood as she brought it down in a single motion.
Before the knife could sink into your chest, you were being shaken away. “Y/N. Get up; you’re having a nightmare,” the rough voice of Sam Carpenter stated as she awoke you from your nightmare.
Your eyes instantly shot up as you leaned up from the couch, checking your surroundings. “Oh, thank you,” you weakly replied as Sam let go of your shoulders and walked away from you, not giving you a response. Sam noticed the sweat that lined your forehead and caused some of your hair to stick to her face, but she didn’t care. Why would she care about someone that ruined her life?
Technically, it wasn’t your fault, but it was easier for Sam to blame you for what happened and she liked having it that way. It was her own fucked up way of keeping you at arms length while also always keeping an eye on you.
You checked your surroundings again and you were grateful that you were in your home and not that dreaded house that Tara used to live in. You had fallen asleep at some point on the couch and you left the TV running while your homework was spread out on the coffee table in front of you. You had gained a terrible habit of staying up until ungodly hours while trying to cram in information for your exams.
You groaned while standing up from the couch and you checked the time, 11:30 pm. If Sam was still here, that meant the rest of the girls were here as well, and you dreaded the thought of being around them. That was the worst part about living with Anika; you were constantly around the people that despised you. ‘People’ as in just Sam, but you liked to make it plural for the dramatic effect.
With a sigh, you grudgingly left the living room and went into the backyard, where a fire was going with the group huddled around it while sitting on hay bales. “Good morning, Y/N,” Tara teased with a gentle smile while scooting over on her hay bale, inviting you to sit next to her. “Yeah right,” you mumbled as you sat down next to the girl, ignoring the glance Sam threw at you, “What are you guys doing out here? It’s starting to get cold.”
“We were talking shit about you, but now we can’t do that with you out here,” Mindy joked as she rested her head on Anika’s shoulder. You and Mindy had a special ‘situationship’ going on for a while, but you two ended on good terms and occasionally picked on each other. “I hope it was good then,” you replied with a smile and Mindy nodded her head.
The conversation around the fire was an ideal one as you caught up with the group about any gossip you might have missed while you were asleep. Nothing sparked your interest too much, not until Tara mentioned Sam having a boyfriend.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam dryly stated as she stared down her younger sister, “We’re just friends, that’s all.”
“You have been saying that for months, Sam! All you two do is check each other out but you never talk! You have to give this guy a chance!” Tara exclaimed and you felt an unwarranted feeling of jealousy shoot throughout your chest. “What guy are you guys talking about?” You asked, starting to get more involved with the current conversion.
“This guy that has been after Sam’s heart ever since we moved here,” Tara casually remarked as she grabbed a stick and poked around the fire; the little shit had a thing for a fire.
You could feel Sam’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you racked Tara’s words around in your head. Sure, Sam was old enough to make decisions for herself, but the thought of her actually being with someone other than you makes you sick to your stomach. And just like the masochist you were, you had to ask Sam about it. “So why don’t you talk to him?”
Sam huffed, clearly annoyed by the fact that you, of all people, would ask her about her love life. “Why? So you can go and tell Gale about it? No thanks,” she dryly stated with a roll of her eyes.
“Hey, you little shit, that wasn’t Y/N! I’ve told you that before,” Tara defended as she comfortably put a hand on your knee, “And even if she did, I support her wrongs.”
“Tara, you’re not helping,” you whispered with a small, awkward laugh. A small groan left Sam’s lips as she stood up from the fire, “I’m going inside,” she said while walking toward the door to the house.
Once she was inside, Tara broke the tension, “I’m sorry she’s like that, Y/N. She doesn’t want to accept the truth.” The comfort from Tara was nice, it actually made you feel like someone at least cared for you that had the last name of Carpenter.
“It’s okay, no need to apologize on her behalf. I get it,” you said with a weak smile as you hid your pain. It was a stupid feeling: pain. You owed San nothing, but you still couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt run through your body every time you saw the woman.
“So, Y/N, what’s it like fumbling an amazing woman like me?” Mindy playfully asked, her own way of trying to lighten the tense mood that had settled around the fire, “I need Anika to know how special I am.”
It was a shitty attempt, but it still put a smile on your face. “Mindy once got in a revolving door,” you said with a laugh, “she was in it for a solid 5 minutes.”
“Blasphemy!” Mindy shouted as she quickly stood up from her hay bale, “It was a one minute and you didn’t help at all! And you let Tara record it!”
“Oh my god, I need to find that video,” Tara butted in as she pulled out her phone, quickly trying to find the video while Mindy tried to steal the phone from her.
It was small moments like these that you enjoyed with the group; moments were everyone was happy and they could forgot about their fucked up pasts. Those moments were rare, but you cherished them like they were your life support.
As time dragged on and the night got colder, everyone outside called it quits. Well, at least on being outside.
“Hurry up, Gizmo, I’m freezing,” Mindy joked as she walked behind Tara, almost stepping on the girl’s shoes. “Don’t call me a gremlin,” the shorter girl shot back with a glare as she approached the back door to your house, “apologize and I’ll open it.”
“Fuck you,” Mindy retorted as she made a move for the door, bud Tara was quick to react as she kicked one of Mindy’s shins.
“Apologize.”
“No.”
Several beats of silence pass by as you and Anika watch a stare down between the two friends before Mindy inevitably sighs with defeat. “Alright fine, I’m sorry I called Gizmo. You aren’t a gremlin, more like a fun sized Lord Farquaad,” Mindy said, trailing off toward the end of her sentence.
“Hey, hey! Stop it!” You exclaimed, quickly catching Tara’s fist that was inches away from connecting Mindy’s face.
You were too busy trying to keep Tara from ripping into Mindy that you didn’t notice Sam opening up the door until she spoke. “What the hell are you doing to my sister?”
The position you found yourself in was an uncomfortable one, to say the least. You were holding Tara from behind, with your arms holding the smaller girl’s ones back.
“Mind your business, Sam,” Tara stated in a strained voice, trying to get hold out of your tight hold, “this is between me and Mindy.”
Her sister’s words didn’t seem to phase Sam at all, as the older sister couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of you. The way you had your hands on her sister made her blood boil. Deep down she knew that you would never hurt Tara, but that didn’t stop the over growing feeling of protectiveness come through.
In a single motion, Sam stopped out of the house and gripped your bicep with her right left hand. When you looked down, you could see her veins in her hands as her grip tightened, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that was trying to flex as well.
“Let her go,” Sam demanded, leaving zero room for arguing. So, you shrugged your shoulders and let go, not caring to warn Sam about the can of whoopass her sister was about to unleash on Mindy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She was like a tiger! A short-legged one with asthma, but a Tiger!” Mindy cried into her phone, telling her brother about her vicious fight with Tara. Honestly, it was impressive how quickly Tara moved to latch onto Mindy, but even more impressive how surprisingly strong she was. The wounds that Mindy sustained weren’t anything terrible; a small cut on her cheek and a busted lip, but nothing was hurt more than her ego.
“You asked for it,” Anika commented, but then gave Mindy a quick kiss for the look she received. You chuckled at the small encounter as you excused yourself from Tara, who had a smug smile on her lips. She knew where you were going, and she didn’t think about warning you that Sam was also there; it was like her own way of playing matchmaker—a shitty matchmaker, but still one nonetheless.
The kitchen was a weird place you found solace in; nothing was special about it. It was where you went when you needed a step back from reality. Another odd thing: Sam also found the same comfort in the kitchen. Maybe it was the quiet nature, or the dim lights that brought comfort, or even perhaps the shitty decorations that littered the walls, but whatever it was, there was a soft comfort.
“Hey,” you said upon entering the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the countertop, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes refused to leave the floor. To anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed, but not with you, not with it involved Sam. You noticed her slightly heavy breathing and the barely visible sweat that glistened her forehead. And when her eyes finally left the floor, you could see nothing but black in her irises.
It took not even a second before Sam finally snapped out of whatever trance she had found herself in and returned to her usual self. Well, about as normal as Sam could be. She quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead and recrossed her arms as she looked at you. “What are you doing in here?” She all but demanded; her eyes seemed never to leave you as she stared you down.
The question was a weird one, as this was your home, but you just chalked it up to Sam's bizarre way of asking, ‘Why are you here with me and not my sister?’
“Hanging out in the kitchen; it’s where I belong,” you said with a smile, and to your surprise, you managed to pull a chuckle from the Latina. It was a quick laugh, but it sounded like angels were singing in your ears, and you would go through hell and back with nothing but the Hamilton soundtrack to keep you busy if it meant hearing that laugh again.
Sam smiled faintly as she spoke, “Yeah, well, I’ve tried your spaghetti before; you don’t belong anywhere near the kitchen. I’m sure they would have sent you into the army and made your husband stay at home.”
“Okay, wow, that one hurt!” You exclaimed with a joking smile as you placed a hand over your heart, pretending to be hurt, “That one dug deep, but bold of you to assume I would have a husband.”
“Bold of you to assume I would care.”
A tense silence filled the air after Sam spoke, but it was a silence you were starting to grow comfortable with. And for the first time in her life, Sam felt terrible for what she said to you. She wanted to apologize for saying she didn’t care about you, but she couldn’t muster up the pride to admit she was wrong. So all she did was look at you sadly and hope you would pick up on it.
“You know, I seriously thought we were having a moment,” you halfheartedly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
It took several seconds before Sam replied, just as you walked out of the kitchen, “Yeah…I don’t really think the whole ‘husband’ thing would work out for me either.”
This comment certainly caught you off guard. “Why is that?” You asked while returning back to the kitchen, clearly interested in what Sam had to say, “Not much of a marriage person?”
Sam shuffled awkwardly on her feet as she uncrossed her arms, gripped the counter behind her, and looked down at the floor. “No, it’s not the marriage part. It’s the man part,” she admitted while slowly looking up at you with the most vulnerable eyes ever. The look she gave you said a thousand words: this was something not even Tara knew about.
Sure, the Carpenter sisters shared everything, but Sam wouldn’t share this. Her attraction toward women was something that further ruined the bond between her and her mother, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it ruin her relationship with her only family left. Of course, Sam knew about Tara’s relationship with women, especially once she found out about Tara and Amber, but she still couldn’t help the feeling of being afraid to disappoint Tara.
But before you could comfort Sam, before you could tell her that her fears meant nothing and that Tara would still love her, you got interrupted. “Sam! Y/N! Get your asses in here!” Mindy yelled from the living room, “We want to watch this movie with you two!”
Sam quickly got rid of the vulnerability on her face when she heard Mindy’s voice, not wanting to show that kind of weakness to anyone.
“Sam-” you started, but the woman quickly brushed past you, subtly wiping a tear from her eye as she walked into the living room.
Following behind her, you entered the living room and sat at the only open spot on the couch, which was conveniently next to Tara, who had Sam on her other side. “Thank god, I was starting to think you two were fucking in there or something,” Mindy remarked as she grabbed the tv remote, “Let me introduce you guys to the scariest movie on the planet: The Cat in The Hat Live Action!”
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and playful teasing as the hours slowly seeped into the early morning hours. The small banter between Mindy and Tara kept things interesting; Mindy compared Tara to the Things, as Anika tried to keep it peaceful. The stolen glances you shared with Sam had their conversations, and when you went to bed that night, you would consider this night a step in the right direction at changing your relationship with Sam.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One thing Sam hated about working a 9-5 was how inconsiderate most of society can be. It was already a busy day at the cafe, more alive than average, and her nerves were already shot for the next and a half. From people complaining about not getting orders in a short time to people demanding to have their drinks remade, it was a rough day for the older Carpenter.
She had half a mind to tell the next person who complained about their coffee not being proper that it was just coffee; if they wanted it right, they should buy a Keurig and make it themselves. Although that would be funny, it would also end in Sam getting fired, so she just bit her tongue and continued working.
As if her day couldn’t get any worse, you always had a habit of catching Sam at her worst. “Are you stalking me now?” Sam questioned once she saw you approach the front counter.
“Oh yeah. You know me, I can’t get enough of the Carpenter girls,” you said with a smirk as you quickly checked San up and down, frowning when you saw a faded coffee stain on her apron. It wasn’t hard to notice the looks Sam got in public, so you could imagine how customers would treat her. If the universe would allow it, you would put Sam in your back pocket and protect her from the rest of the world; God knows that the woman deserves some peace in her life for once.
“For whatever reason, Tara can’t seem to leave you alone,” Sam mumbled as she pulled out a pen and notepad, “What can I get you?”
“Just a small cappuccino, please,” you replied as Sam wrote down your order and took your payment. She liked writing things down, which helped her remember the important stuff. And maybe, in the distant future, she might want to buy you a coffee sometime.
Once you ordered, you went and sat down at a booth by yourself and took in the place: it had indeed calmed down from earlier; only a couple of people remained from the rush hour. You enjoyed the calmness, as it gave you time to observe people. Not in a weird or stalkerish way, but in a way to think about other people’s lives, how these weren’t just random people who had no life. These were people who had dreams, who had family and friends; you enjoyed watching the way the world works around you.
You watched as a man wore stress lines on his forehead as he eagerly typed away on his laptop, mouthing every word he typed. How sweat lined his hairline, you could have had a deadline for work that he pushed off until the last minute. You then turned your attention to the girl at the opposite end of the cafe, a book in hand as she wore black headphones over her ears, entranced into the world of fantasy without a care in the world while sporting a soft smile. The world amazed you in ways like that: two completely different people who somehow ended up at the same place at the same time, with different things going on in their lives. Maybe it was fate that brought these two strangers together, and you smiled when you saw them bump into each other before leaving, both wearing a smile and talking about the book she was reading. Maybe that’s what you wished had happened between you and Sam: an accidental meeting somewhere where a good relationship was possible and not this borderline hostile friendship.
A couple of minutes passed before Sam brought over your drink to you. “How late are you working?” You asked once she handed you your drink. The questioning look she gave you was a funny one, but not that it mattered.
“I’m here till 5. Why?”
“Damn, you got a 9 to 5? It looks like I’ll take the night shift,” you joked, but Sam didn’t laugh, only giving you a questioning glare, “Lucy Dacus? No? You’re boring.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not obsessed with three grown women who refer to themselves as ‘boys,’” Sam remarked. She had no desire to learn anything about Boygenius, especially after listening to her sister talk for an hour about all of the unholy things she would let Julien Baker do to her. If Sam was being honest, half of the stuff Tara said deserved at least a ten-year prison sentence.
“But you know who they are,” you said teasingly as you stood up from the booth, “Don’t worry, Sam. You’ll soon grow to appreciate Boygenius. I’ll have Tara fix that.”
“Mhmmm, I’m sure about that,” she mumbled as she returned to the counter, bidding you farewell with a slight nod, not caring to return your toothy smile or wave.
If Sam drove home after her long shift listening to Julien Baker, that was no one’s business but hers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Sam got home, she only wanted a nice, hot shower and go to bed. She didn’t even bother to eat dinner, as she didn’t have the energy or care to do so. As she opened the door to her apartment, which seemed heavier than usual, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh as she made her way into her bedroom, utterly oblivious to the voices in the living room.
“What’s wrong with her?” You asked Tara once the taller Carpenter had shut her bedroom door. “I don’t know; probably work stuff. Do you have five of spade?” Tara asked, more intrigued with the game she was playing than her sister.
“No, go fish,” you replied while looking at Sam’s door; something was telling you to go check on the girl to make sure she was alright, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.
“Ohhhh my god, you hate me,” the younger Carpenter dramatically stated, dragging out the words as she threw herself backward onto the couch.
“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have done your entire English paper, would I?” You questioned while shooting a glance at the pouting girl, but when your comment earned you a middle finger, you placed your cards down as you stood up from the couch, “I'll be right back.”
Tara scoffed at you as she leaned up on her elbows. “Have you learned nothing from the Meeks family? I hope you don’t come back,” she mouthed off as she started looking at your cards, “you fucking asshole! You did have that card!”
“I never said I didn’t,” you replied with a smirk as you walked toward Sam’s door, ducking out of the way of a flying shoe courtesy of your best friend Tara.
A soft rasping of knuckles pulled Sam away from her almost meltdown. She had felt a constant pressure on her all day, and it started to lift briefly, but it suddenly came back by the end of her shift. Sam was used to the constant pressure and needed to be the best version of herself now that she was providing for her sister, but it all started to get too much for her.
“Sam, you okay?” Great, not only did she have this overwhelming feeling about to take over, but she was also about to have a high speed come apart in front of the person she didn’t want to see her weak.
“I’m good, Y/N. Go back to Tara,” she called out as she backed herself against a wall, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.
“Are you sure? You didn’t seem too happy when you got home,” you replied, hoping to get somewhere with the older woman. “I’m fine. Please, leave me alone,” Sam pleaded, but the way her voice broke off toward the end of her sentence told you that she didn’t need to be left alone right now.
Several seconds passed, the sound of Sam’s bedroom clock ticking away, slowly counting down the seconds until Sam couldn’t bear the deafening silence. She felt like she had somehow found herself in her version of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart,’ at any moment, she would succumb to the voices that were guilting her. For what guilt, she did not know; guilty of her origins, guilty of neglecting her baby sister for five years, guilty of torturing her body for years on end, putting any substance into her body to help calm her mind? Sam didn’t know what was causing this constant guilt that followed her anxiety and pressure, but she would do anything to make it stop. And she did make it stop.
“Fuck it,” she mumbled as she pushed herself up from the floor and walked to her door, grabbing the handle but making no motion to open the door. If she opened that door, it would be an invitation to open herself up to you; she only opened up to one person in her life, and look what he did to her. This constant fear of having to look over her shoulder, as if the shadows were going to transform into physical beings and take her life, or even worse, take Tara’s life. Sam wears scars, both physical and mental, from him, and she would lay down her own life if it meant protecting her sister. But when she looked at you, with your innocent eyes that beamed when you looked at her, Sam knew you could never hurt anyone. But Sam was never one to make accurate judgments.
The creaking sound of Sam opening up her door pulled you from your thoughts. Thoughts that weren’t any special; who you would have in your ideal Hunger Games lineup. You knew for a fact that the president would be Cersei Lannister and the game maker would be Jigsaw. However, you still have yet to determine who the twenty-four tributes would be: the only tributes you had so far were Santa Barbara Ellie, Pioneer Kim Kardashian, Regina George, and Chanel Oberlin. It's not the best list, but it's a solid start.
“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes darting over Sam’s bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath. Even at her worst, she always somehow managed to captivate you like she was a siren, slowly bringing you into your inevitable demise. Still, you could never seem to pull yourself away from the beauty that was Sam Carpenter.
Sam scoffed at your weak greeting while ignoring the feeling of her stomach turning at how you looked at her. She knew she looked like a hot mess, and she believed it was your way of silently making fun of her. But the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes seemed a bit too dilated, refused to leave her own, told her that you weren’t judging or making fun of her. No, you were admiring her, which sent a slight shock of guilt throughout her; Guilt, that was Samantha Carpenter’s best friend.
Sam’s eyes drifted down to the floor, as she couldn’t handle the feeling of your eyes burning into her skull. “Who’s shoe is that?” She asked, motioning down to the floor, where Tara’s shoe landed.
“Well, if you look closely, you can see that it’s a size three for babies,” you remarked teasingly.
“Kill yourself!” Tara shouted from the living room, not caring enough to storm out into the hallway and show you how vicious she can be.
“Charming, isn’t she?” You stated as Sam looked back up and made eye contact with you. Her face told you that she didn’t want to talk, but her eyes were silently begging you to stay. It was a dilemma that you stumbled upon, but you were always someone who loved conflicts. “Is everything alright?”
Sam sighed as she leaned against her doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what you wanted? To ask me if things are okay?”
“Um, yes and no?” You trailed off, not wanting to make things more awkward than they were, “Hold on.” You quickly moved from Sam’s door into the living room, and Sam ignored the hushed threats being spoken; her sister was an angel, after all.
“Here ya go,” you said with an embarrassingly large smile once you returned to Sam’s door. In your hand, you held a small brown lunch bag. Sam had to fight off any instincts to punch you in the throat.
“I don’t like gifts,” she said instead of resorting to violence. Truth be told, Sam loved gifts; she just hated receiving them, as it made her feel like she was in someone’s debt.
“Well, good thing it’s not a gift,” you replied, smiling, pushing the gift bag toward Sam, who gave you a questioning look before accepting it. The bag itself was featherlight, almost as if nothing was in there. Sam gave you one last questioning look before opening the bag and looking inside.
In the bag were several containers, all hosting different kinds of cookies and brownies, and to Sam’s surprise, they were all her favorites. There was something much more prominent at the bottom, but she couldn’t tell what it was as the rest of the cookies sat atop. Sam gave you a small smile as she walked over to her chest of drawers and began taking out the items, ignoring how you were now peering into her room as you leaned against the door frame.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Sam genuinely said in a weak, almost fragile voice as she slowly got to the bottom of the bag, “I appreciate this. it has been-” The rest of her words died on the tip of her tongue as she stared into the bag, as silence filled the room. Those silent seconds dragged on into a quiet minute, neither of you saying anything. You knew it might have been too bold or maybe even wrong, but you wanted to let Sam know that you were proud of her.
“Goodnight, Sam,” you quietly whispered, gaining Sam’s attention. Your heart broke once her eyes met yours, tears glossing in her doe eyes as her lip quivered. She gave you a slight nod of recognition before turning her attention back to the bag as a single tear ran down her cheek, grateful that you had already left by the time it broke from her eye.
With a dry chuckle, Sam reached into the bag, pulled out a 10-inch cookie, and sat it down on her chest of drawers. She stared at it for several moments before her lips pulled into a smile as a new feeling shot throughout her heart, one that she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. But that feeling of hope wasn’t for her; no, it was a hopeful feeling about you.
Sam smiled down at the cookie one last time before she went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and plate, thankful that Tara had gone off to her room so she could enjoy her treat by herself.
Once she returned to her room, she pulled the lid off the container and cut a small piece out of the cookie. Making sure not to ruin the words that said, “Happy three years of sobriety.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The minutes seemed endless as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You didn’t know why you were waiting, but you just were. Your mind was telling you to get up, to do something productive, but your heart and soul were seemingly forcing you to stay put, like something important was going to happen anytime, and if you were just a fraction of a second too late, you would miss it.
It was a stupid feeling, but you couldn’t compel yourself to move; it was as if your mind was in a trance, stuck in some faraway land, and you could do nothing to pull yourself back into your body. You were on the verge of losing your mind when you knew exactly what you were waiting for, and when you finally accepted why, it happened.
Your phone dinged on your nightstand, and you immediately smiled; you didn’t have to look at it to know who it was. In a swift motion, you quickly got up from your bed and grabbed your phone as you read the text message. It wasn’t a long one, or even a special one, to be honest, but the smile on your face was almost comical, and your heart soared. The text read, “I don’t know how you found out about the date, nor do I even want to. But thank you, Y/N, I needed that today.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I will never understand the hype for ‘Hamilton,’” Mindy stated with a look of distaste as she flopped down onto the Carpenter’s couch. It wasn’t movie night but more of a girl’s night. Since it was Tara’s idea to have a girl’s night, she got to pick the movie. But it wasn’t for her, no, it was for Sam.
The older Carpenter sister would never admit to liking such things, but she did have a soft spot for musicals. She didn’t know where this love for them came from, but ever since she was young, she had loved the idea of singing.
Before Sam had discovered her mother’s journal, which had ultimately led to the destruction of her family, she used to sing in her church’s choir. It was the first thing her mother didn’t force her into doing, and she loved singing in front of people; it made her feel like nothing in the world could touch her.
Singing was the only thing Christina Carpenter told Sam she was good at and the last thing she ever took away from Sam.
Once Mr. Carpenter left, Christina stopped taking the kids to church, which caused Sam to be pulled from the choir. It still didn’t stop Sam; she saved up enough money to buy a guitar and write songs while practicing the guitar in her room. When Sam started to dabble around in drugs and alcohol, she slowly started to lose herself. She lost who she really was, but she never lost her voice.
Only when it was the day of Sam’s 18th birthday did Christina finally ruin the last good thing Sam liked about herself, “Your real father had the voice of an angel.”
Sam left that night, and she hadn’t sung since.
But now, five years later, Sam still loves everything to do with music. She was glad that Tara had taken one for the team and turned on Hamilton because Mindy would never let Sam hear the end of it.
“‘Hamilton’ is okay, but not Lin-Manuel Miranda’s best work,” you stated as you stood in the kitchen, making a bag of popcorn for yourself. Sam was also in the kitchen with you, which has become a common meeting place. She was making herself a sandwich as she quietly listened to the banter between you and Mindy.
“I don’t believe you. What is his best work?” Tara challenged as she shifted on the couch, throwing an arm over the side as she looked into the kitchen to glare at you.
“His best work is easily ‘In the Heights,’” you declared with too much emphasis on the movie title.
“No!” Tara yelled, “You only say that because the lead actress looks like Sam, and you said she was hot!”
“I did not say that!” You lied as heat rushed up your neck and flooded your cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassing because Tara called you out; you were embarrassed because you were in the kitchen with Sam. It didn’t help that you could hear Sam snickering as you were defending yourself.
“Yes, you did. Do you want me to pull up the screenshots from the long chain of text messages you sent me?” Tara asked, even though it wasn’t a question, as she pulled out her phone. “Example one: ‘Oh my god, Tara. I’m watching this movie, and this woman looks just like Sam.’”
You quickly threw your bag of popcorn down onto the counter as you sprinted into the living room. You simply couldn’t live with the idea that Sam knows just how you yearned for her.
“Example two: ‘This is Sam, just in another universe.’ Example three, in all caps: ‘Oh my god, Tara! I am not joking when I say that-’” You quickly snatched the phone from the younger Carpenter sister before she could say possibly the horniest text message you had ever sent.
“You are no fun,” Tara whined as you deleted the messages from her phone. “You’re evil,” you retorted before handing Tara back her phone, who was quick to grab it. You walked back into the kitchen to grab your popcorn and became embarrassed when you saw Sam.
She was wearing one of her light-colored long-sleeve muscle shirts again with a pair of gray sweatpants. In simple words, she looked amazing. Usually, when Sam wore some variation of the muscle shirt combo, you could act ‘normal.’ But now that Tara had practically outed your attraction to Sam, you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Thankfully, she just gave you a small smile as she watched you grab your bag before heading back into the living room, no doubt about to be the subject of constant teasing from Tara and Mindy.
“So,” Mindy started once you sat down on the couch next to her, “Are we going to talk about those thirst messages-” “Start the damn movie, Tara.”
By the time the movie started, Sam had entered the living room, but not without earning a cat call whistle from Mindy, no doubt a jab at you. She opted to sit by herself in the loveseat as she kicked her feet up on the opposite end. She sent you a smile when no one was looking, and you could have sworn both hearts started beating as one.
Throughout the movie, you had to deal with Tara rapping and Mindy ranting about the musical, but overall, it was a fun night. Sam was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of having you around more often, and you slowly felt yourself catching feelings for her.
Of course, there was this natural attraction to Sam, she was simply beautiful, but her protective personality mixed with her stand-off, almost bitchy, personality was merely perfect. But with her bitchiness, she was the sweetest, most caring person you had ever met. Her laugh was so angelic, and the way her eyes crinkled when she did laugh was so heartwarming. Sam Carpenter was perfect in your eyes.
To say that this attraction was one-sided wouldn’t be fair. After you had dropped off her cookie, Sam started to act differently around you. She would smile more, and only at you most of the time. It seemed like she had begun to reserve that confident smile just for you. She started to see you more as an individual with feelings and plans for the future rather than a simple 2-dimensional person who was only in her life to make it hell. Sam had actually started to care for you even though she still tried her best to despise you.
So when the movie finished and Mindy went home, you grabbed your coat to follow suit soon.
“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” Tara said as she hugged you while you were standing next to the front door, “You know I love you, right?”
You quickly reciprocated the hug, pulling the girl into a warm, soft embrace. “I know you do, and I also love you too. Even though you can be a shit sometimes.”
“Yeah, but you love it!” She happily exclaimed while pulling back from the hug to pinch your left cheek, “Drive safe, okay?”
“I will, Ms. Carpenter, I will,” you replied, smiling as you opened the door, and Tara disappeared into her room. You had gone halfway out of the door when someone spoke.
“You’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?” You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you could pick that soft voice from anywhere. Granted, she was the only one left in the apartment, but you still have yourself the credit for knowing it was her.
“I didn’t think you would want to say goodbye,” you replied as you entered the apartment and shut the door, “I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.”
That was the thing about you: you were so damn respectful. Sometimes, Sam wanted to slam you against a wall to beat the hell out of you. Other times, she wanted to slam you against a wall with her tongue down your throat. Sam had a weird way of showing her attraction to you.
“You didn’t think you were overstepping boundaries when you brought me that cookie?” Sam questioned with a faint smile on her lips. She would never tell you this, but she loved teasing you, as it was the only way she could see the more embarrassed side of you.
“I figured I was, but I thought the gesture of it would be nice enough,” you replied in a weak voice as you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand and shuffled from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry if it was rude of me to do that without asking first. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”
The older woman laughed a bit as she walked closer to you and opened the door, “At least let me walk you out,” she offered. You gave her a smile with a nod as you followed her out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind you.
“So, what do you think of musicals?” You asked as you walked down the stairs with her. “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with the slightest hint of flirtation in her voice, and you almost felt your knees give out.
“Ha, you wish,” you replied as you matched her tone of voice, which earned you a playful smirk to get sent your way. If you figured your one way to win Sam’s trust was to flirt with her occasionally, you would go out giving it your all.
You two reached the floor level of the apartment building, and you held the door open for Sam as you walked outside. “But seriously, though, what do you think of them?” You asked as Sam followed you to your car.
“I enjoy them well enough. Why?” Sam responded as she eyed you suspiciously.
“Because the ‘Aladdin’ musical is going to be here soon,” you stated before you continued with your proposal, “And I was wondering if you would want to go with me?”
The offer was a genuine one from you; you wanted to spend more quality time with Sam, but you also have been dying to see the musical. It was a win-win situation all around.
“Y/n,” Sam started with a beaming smile that matched her chocolate eyes, “I would love to go with you. When and how much do I owe you?”
You quickly picked up Sam’s hand and held it between yours, “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payment for letting me terrorize your sister.”
Sam glanced down at your hands before looking back up at you. Her beautiful eyes held so much darkness in them that they couldn’t help but draw you in. When you looked into Sam’s eyes at just the right moments, you didn’t see the gorgeous woman; no, you would see her father. And it made you yearn for her even more. Sam had never experienced actual love, but when you looked into her eyes, it made you wonder why thieves bothered to steal pieces of art; you knew you were in love with her.
In a swift moment, before Sam had time to think about her actions, she leaned in. She had meant to kiss your cheek, but in a sudden and indescribable moment, Sam slightly turned her head to kiss the corner of your lips, millimeters away from your lips.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she whispered with a small smile as she said goodbye. You were too busy hoping she left a lipstick mark to respond.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly as you tapped your foot against the floor. Your stomach was wrapped up in knots you could barely remember to breathe; the only thing you could think about was the constant nervousness that was rattling you to your core. You were early, half an hour earlier, to be exact, but you would rather be early and have to wait rather than be late.
You were sitting on the bottom stairs of Sam’s apartment building, impatiently waiting until it would be an acceptable time to go to the Carpenter’s apartment. It was the night of the musical, and you were wearing a simple yet elegant suit as you pulled at the collar of your shirt as if it was slightly choking you.
‘Nervous’ wasn’t the correct word to describe your feelings. Petrified would be a better word for it. You were terrified that you would somehow mess up this night, had somehow overdone it, or that Sam wouldn’t have fun. Self-doubt was your greatest friend, after all.
You picked up the bouquet of roses from beside you and stared at them. “Maybe it's too much,” you thought out loud as you turned them over in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly said it was a date, but the way Sam kissed your cheek was something you would never forget. Even though you wanted to consider an actual kiss, since it was so close to your lips, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Samatha Carpenter is a strong woman who takes what she wants in this world, and if she wanted to kiss your lips, she would have done so.
Your phone vibrated with a text message, pulling you away from self-doubt. It was from Sam, telling you that you can come up whenever you would like.
Like an idiot, you wanted to run up the stairs as fast as you could to get to Sam quicker, but you forced yourself to play it cool, to not look like a loser. So, ever so slowly, you began your journey up the six flights of stairs.
Within a few minutes, you were standing outside Sam’s door. You had arrived quicker than you wanted, but the excitement was too much. Then, your mind slowly started to get the better of you as you stared down at your fancy dress-up shoes. You hoped you weren’t overdressed, but if you were, you could easily change into the clothes you kept in Tara’s room. But then what if you were underdressed? How would you fix that? You wouldn’t have enough time to go home and change into something more congenial, and you certainly weren’t going to make Sam change. What if Sam wasn’t even dressing up at all? What if this was just a friendly outing, and you completely fucked it up? What if-
Before you dive further into the scenarios that could play out, the door opened, and all of the air within your lungs left.
“What the fuck are wearing?” You asked with slight irritation in your voice, bewilderment written all over your face.
“What? You don’t like it?” Tara questioned as she spun around in a circle for you. The younger Carpenter sister was wearing a yellow shirt with a pineapple that had on a thong; underneath the fruit was the word ‘slut.’ She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, and when she turned around for you, you saw ‘baby girl’ embroidered on the butt.
“Clearly It’s referring to the pineapple, not you,” you said with a smile before it fully registered what was on the girl’s pants, “Hey, turn back around!” Tara did as you demanded, “If I would have known you were wanting to check on my ass, I would have done some squats first,” she teased with a smirk.
When you reread the word ‘baby girl,’ you scoffed at the more petite girl, “Why are you wearing those?”
“Because it's funny! It’s called having a sense of humor!” Tara shot back before an evil smirk appeared, “Why? Do you want me to take them off? I don’t think Sam would like that too much; she gets territorial over you.”
The comment certainly surprised you, and Tara quickly noticed her mistake. “I didn’t mean that,” she tried to explain, but it was too late.
“What do you mean she ‘gets territorial’ over me?” You questioned, completely forgetting about why you were talking to Tara in the first place as the thought of Sam ran rapidly throughout your mind.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tara replied with a nervous laugh as her eyes darted around the room. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, and Sam made her swear not to tell anyone. Now, she has broken that promise to the one person who wasn’t supposed to know.
Now, it was a simple mistake that led to Tara finding out about the flirtatious relationship between you and Sam. It was the night Sam kissed your cheek; Tara saw that bright smile on Sam’s lips and how her eyes held so much admiration. She had never seen that look on her sister’s face, and she knew something had happened.
So, like any good sister, she interrogated and terrorized Sam until she finally caved.
Sam only told Tara the bare minimum; you two were going out later in the week to watch a musical together and that you had gotten her a gift a week ago. She didn’t plan on telling Tara that the gift in question was her sobriety treat basket, but when Tara went to grab a water bottle from Sam’s mini fridge, she saw a small box of brownies with your handwriting on a sticky note. “I believe in you :)” was written on it, so Tara asked Sam about it.
Sam told her sister about the gift, but Tara didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, yeah. I figured something fruity was going on between you and the biggest homo of the century. But why the fuck did you keep this from me?!” Tara shouted, moving the box around in the air.
“I didn’t think you would want any,” Sam defended with a weak sigh, but she knew it wouldn’t help.
“I would give a strip show to the old people’s home just for a brownie from this place, and you didn’t think I would want any?” She questioned in a slightly more demanding voice before huffing and leaving Sam’s room with the box in hand.
But now, in the current moment, Tara wished she hadn’t opened Sam’s fridge. That annoyingly hopeful smile on your lips drove her insane, not to mention that lovesick look in your eye.
“Stop it, you’re freaking me out,” Tara stated as she made a disgusted face at you. “No. Tell me why you said that,” you pressed on, hoping to get an answer from the younger sister.
“Y/N, what are you hounding her about?” A soft, angelic voice questioned, and your attention immediately shot to Sam. She was wearing a black dress that clutched her curves and somehow made her look even more beautiful if that was even possible. The dress had a plunging neckline, and you had to force your eyes away from her cleavage, earning you a smile of approval from Sam, but an elbow followed by a look of distaste from Tara.
“You look amazing,” you stated breathlessly as your eyes wandered down Sam’s body, admiring the leg slit that showed off her left leg. You prayed for nights when that leg would be wrapped around your head.
“Thank you. You look not so bad either,” Sam replied with a soft smile as she picked up her black clutch bag and walked toward you.
“Have fun on your date,” Tara sneered as she entered her room. Truth be told, she couldn’t have been happier for her sister, but she would rather die than let you know that.
“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled under your breath as your eyes followed Tara before they shot back to the goddess before you. “Are you ready?” You asked, and she gave a curt nod before walking to the door. When you got to the car, you opened the passenger door for Sam, and she thanked you with a soft smile that made your heart explode and your knees weak.
The car ride to the theater was a peaceful one filled with pleasant conversation as you asked Sam about her day and her about yours. Sometimes, you would catch her looking over her shoulder with those soft doe eyes, and you had to fight off any urges to kiss her soft lips.
“Here we are,” you stated as you pulled into the back parking lot of the theater. As you parked the car, Sam observed people leaving their cars, dressed in all kinds of formal clothing, as they made their way into the theater. It took several seconds for it to click in her mind; this was a date.
Of course, she had assumed it might be considered one whenever you asked her, but as she watched the couples get out of their cars and link hands while they all wore fancy clothing, she knew that this was a date. Sam also knew that if she asked you if this was officially a date, she knew that you would deny it. So when you both stepped out of the car and started walking toward the entrance together, she reached out to interlace your fingers with hers.
It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of her hand in yours was enough to warm your cheeks and set your heart afire. You looked at her, only to find that Sam had already been staring at you.
“What?” You asked with a slight smile and a hint of nervousness in your voice. Sam bumped her shoulder into yours, “Nothing, it's just you look beautiful tonight.”
As if your face couldn’t get any redder, you laughed nervously as you looked down at the ground. The compliment threw you off, but you still accepted it nonetheless. “Thank you. And you look beautiful as well, Sam,” you stated.
“I know; you said that earlier,” she teased as she squeezed your hand, “Come on,” she continued as you two walked into the building.
You held open the door for her as you two entered, and then she patiently waited while you got the tickets.
“My lady,” you said as you returned to Sam, sticking out your elbow. “You are such a dork,” she replied, smiling as she locked her elbow around yours and followed your lead. Sam kept quiet as you led her past row after row, but her surprise never stopped until you led her to the third row up front. “Come on,” you stated as you led her down the row toward the middle, “these are our seats.”
“Y/N. How much did these cost?’ Sam questioned as she hesitatingly sat down next to you. “Don’t worry about the price. Money doesn’t mean anything when it comes to memories,” you eagerly replied, which was the truth. You didn’t care about the ticket price; the only thing you cared about was making Sam happy. Sam was someone who found happiness hard to come by, so you devoted your time to try and make her life better, even if that meant putting a massive dent in your credit score.
“I will stab you in the neck with a knife if you don’t tell me how much you spent on these seats,” Sam demanded with a soulless look in her eyes. It was meant to be threatening, maybe it was, but the only thing you could feel toward those dark eyes was a sense of attraction.
“Shhh, it's getting ready to start,” you silenced her, and soon enough, the lights began to dim as the crowd quickly stopped their chatter and turned their focus to the stage. Sam scoffed at you and turned her attention away from you. She wanted to be angry with you for not telling her how much you spent, but she knew that doing that would only ruin this night, which was something she knew you had been looking forward to for longer than you had been leading on.
So, when the curtains opened, she quickly glanced at you. She noticed how your eyes seemed entirely dedicated to the actors on stage and how your lips were curved up in the slightest of a smile. Sam thought you looked the most beautiful woman in the entire world.
Sam moved her hand from her lap to place it in your lap. She turned her hand so that her palm was facing up, and you didn’t have to ask what she wanted; you interlaced your fingers with hers and pulled them further into your lap.
If Sam noticed the way your hands started to sweat, she didn’t say anything. She was too busy focusing on how your thumb was featherlight stroking her hand to concentrate on anything. No one had ever touched her with such softness; she wanted to cry.
When the play finished, and you took her back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but give you a goodnight kiss as a thank you.
Maybe one day you could bask in the sweet taste of her lips on yours. But for now, you would live with her lipstick stain on your cheek, and you would wear it with honor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things had changed between the two of you. They were highly subtle at first: Sam’s eyes looking for you in a crowded room, her fingertips lingering on your hand whenever she handed you your coffee, and she even gave you another rare kiss on the cheek when you brought a very drunk Tara home late one night. Then things started to pick up; she would text you and ask you to pick something up for her and Tara, and when you would drop them off, Sam would ask you to stay for a while. She would always say Tara asked you to stay, but you knew better, even though you never questioned her.
It was one of those nights at the Carpenter’s apartment, movie night with just the three of you. Of course, typical movie nights with the core four plus Anika and you were on Fridays, but the sisters liked having you over just by yourself, as you weren’t nearly as much trouble as the twins. Tara wanted to refer to you as a plant; check in occasionally to make sure you weren’t dead and give you some stuff to keep you from dying.
“Tara, I am not watching ‘The Babadook,’” you stated as you sat on the couch alone. Tara was doing her dad's stance while flipping through movies to watch while Sam was in the kitchen making popcorn.
“Who?” She asked, not even caring to look back at you. “What-” you started to say before the shorter Carpenter cut you off, “Asked?”
“Why do I even hang out with you? All you do is insult me,” you joked as Tara moved to sit beside you. Well, on you. She threw an arm around your shoulder as she got comfortable on your lap. “Because you love me, obviously,” she remarked, still looking for the perfect movie.
Sam knew it was spiritual love, but she couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy grow throughout her chest. Especially over her sister! With a slight shake, Sam tried to fight off that feeling as she grabbed the popcorn bags, along with some bowls, and made her way into the living room.
“Just two bags?” Tara questioned once Sam entered the living room. “Yeah, I figured you and Y/n would share. Why; is there a problem?” The older sister questioned with a raised eyebrow as she set the bowls on the coffee table.
“No, it's fine. But I am getting an entire bag for myself,” Tara stated as she left your lap to grab a bag from Sam before moving to the opposite end of the couch. “Looks like you two will have to share,” she added with a sly smile.
You shared a look with Sam, who had slight irritation on her face. She handed you the bag as she spoke, “I’ll go make more.” When Sam moved to head into the kitchen, you quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from getting further.
“No, I’m alright with sharing. Only if you are, though,” you said quietly, ignoring the snickering coming from the end of the couch. Sam gave you a small smile as she nodded, sitting beside you on the sofa.
A small laugh left your lips as you looked at Sam’s outfit. “What?” She questioned.
“We are matching,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at Sam, who was already looking at you before she looked at your outfit. It was true; both of you were accidentally wearing practically the same outfit: blue plaid pajama pants with solid black shirts.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” Sam said with a smile as her eyes met yours. It was a small moment between the two of you, but it was quickly ruined when the sound of gagging pulled you two from it.
“Please, no homosexual activities in front of my popcorn. I don’t want it forced down my throat,” Tara complained as if she wasn’t someone who also suffered from those homosexual tendencies as well.
Sam cleared her throat as she grabbed one of the bowls and opened the bag of popcorn, pulling all of it into the bowl. “What movie did you pick?” You asked as you kicked your feet onto the coffee table, earning yourself a slight glare from Sam. She wouldn’t classify herself as a neat freak, but she hated it when people put their feet on furniture not used for sitting.
“‘It puts the lotion on its skin, or it gets the hose again,’” Tara quoted while throwing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with her mouth.
“I love that movie so much,” you commented while grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, covering up your legs as you got comfortable.
“What movie?” Sam questioned as Tara hit play. “‘The Silence of the Lambs.’ It's one of my favorite movies,” you replied with a smile, leaning over to give Tara a quick fist bump for the choice.
“Is this the one with Jodie Foster?”
“Yep,” you and Tara replied simultaneously, earning a small groan from Sam, but she didn’t protest.
Once the movie began, Sam pulled at your blanket and placed some over her lap. You thought nothing of it until you felt Sam’s thigh brush against yours. You guessed it was an accident, but she didn’t move her leg; you relaxed your body and pushed your thigh against hers. You felt your chest flutter at the slight smile on Sam’s face at the contact.
As the movie progressed, the distance between you and Sam slowly became nonexistent. Your shoulders were now touching each other as you shared one blanket. In a moment of braveness, with a little bit of stupidity, you moved your hand underneath the blanket, which was where Sam had been keeping her own. Slowly, your hand inched toward Sam’s, hoping to reach the desired location without Sam pulling her hand away.
When your hand gently grazed Sam’s, the Latina made no effort to pull away, so you took it as a sign to continue. You linked your pinkie with hers and waited. I waited for her to finally realize what you were doing and pull away or glare at you and then ridicule you for such actions. So when Sam did pull her pinkie out of the lock with yours, you tried not to show your disappointment on your face.
But before you could get too comfortable with your sadness, Sam interlaced her fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle yet firm squeeze. It was a small gesture. Some people might even call it friendly, but how your heartbeat quickened at the contact was embarrassing. You only hoped that your fast heart rate and nervousness would cause your palms to sweat. If they did sweat, though, Sam didn’t say anything about it, which you were grateful for.
As the end credits rolled, you let go of Sam’s hand, much to the older woman’s disappointment. You helped Sam clean up the mess made during the movie while you two let Tara sleep peacefully on the couch.
“I can clean those,” you said while walking into the kitchen. Sam was at the sink washing the bowl that you two had used.
“No, it’s okay. I got it,” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Thank you for staying tonight. I know Tara can be a little shit sometimes.”
You laughed at Sam’s words as you walked over to her, leaning against the counter. “It’s no problem; I love hanging out with you guys,” you genuinely replied, smiling, “Thank you for letting me stay over. I know we haven’t always had the best past.”
At the mention of the one-sided distaste that was formerly between you two, Sam stopped cleaning the bowl. A frown appeared on her lips as she looked down, refusing to meet your piercing gaze.
She took a deep breath before she spoke, “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know. I thought you were only getting close to us so you could tell Gale, but I know better than that now. I’ve been so…closed off to people that my judgment blinded me. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.”
To say that Sam’s apology took you aback would be an understatement. You had just assumed that Sam would never own up to how she treated you in the past, opting just to pretend nothing ever happened. But you could tell that she had been working on this apology for a long time, so you appreciated it while you could.
“Thank you, Sam, for apologizing. I won't try to play it down, but it does mean a lot to me,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at the vulnerable woman before you, “but I have to ask. What changed?”
A sigh left Sam’s lips as she turned on the sink, washing out all the soap. She then began drying it off to think about her response. It wasn’t a difficult thing to explain. Well, the logical reasoning for her change of mind about you. But what she was trying to avoid was telling you that she also had a change of heart. Sam had started to enjoy your presence and hated being without you; she yearned for your soft, gentle touches that followed your caring words. She wanted to tell you that she still hates you but cares deeply for you.
Sam dried her hands off as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I honestly don’t know entirely,” she began, “I know my opinion started to change after you brought me that cookie. But I feel like things changed before that, you know?”
“No, I don’t,” you said with a soft laugh, “I think I’ve just gotten so used to you being a dickhead to me that I kind of don’t associate anything else with the way you treat me.”
Sam had to pretend your words didn’t split her heart down the middle; she had to pretend your words didn’t pierce her heart like an ice-cold dagger. She knew she had no business to be hurt by your honesty, but still, she hated being reminded of how things were.
“I am sorry about that. You were there to protect Tara when I wasn’t, and for that, you will always have my gratitude,” Sam stated as she took several moments to decide on what to say next, “Tara told me that while I was gone for those five years, that you took care of her. Is that true?”
“Yeah,” was all you said in a quiet voice, almost as if you were preparing yourself for when Sam started to ask more questions but silently prayed she wouldn’t.
“How bad was it?” The older Carpenter asked with a voice filled with regret. You didn’t have to ask to clarify what she was asking about; you could tell by how her left fist started to clench as she brought her right arm to rub over the median cubital vein in her left arm. She wasn’t asking about how bad the attack was. No, she was asking about how bad Tara’s home life was when she was too high to do anything about it.
“I made sure she wasn’t left home alone,” you admitted. It was the half-truth, and you hoped Sam would accept it, but you knew better. “What was it like when Christina was there?” Sam pressed on.
“Things were okay; nothing was too bad,” you replied, trying your best to sugarcoat the truth.
An awkward, dry chuckle came from Sam as she shook her head, “Don’t lie to me; tell me the truth.”
You debated whether you should spare Sam the details or try to lie to her about how ugly it got sometimes. But fuck it, Sam had been making your life hell for almost a year now, so it's time she found out what you dealt with for five years.
“Christina’s a drunk; everyone knows that. But it got ugly once you left, especially once you left. It was like, maybe three weeks since you had left, and Christina had drank herself into a coma. The only problem was that it was in some European country, and no one back home knew about it. Christina was only supposed to be gone for the weekend and return home by late Sunday. Only, that weekend turned into a week, which then turned into a month.”
You gave Sam several moments to digest everything you told her, waiting for her to object. But when all she did was nod, you continued. “Tara didn’t tell anyone about her mom not coming back, and she only just told me why she didn’t tell anyone about it: she didn’t want people to view her as some monster because her entire family had left her.”
A soft sob came from Sam, and that was when you noticed she had been silently crying. When you moved to comfort her, Sam smacked your hand away from her body. “Keep talking,” she demanded. And you followed your orders.
“I didn’t notice anything different until I heard her stomach growl during lunch. She had been rationing her lunch for weeks, trying to make every piece last as long as possible. School food isn’t the best, but you would have thought Gordon Ramsey had made it how she cherished every bite. By the end of the school day, I finally got Tara to tell me what had happened, and I forced her to stay at my house. I told my mom that she would stay with us for a while, and she didn’t bat an eye; it was like she already knew what had happened but didn’t want to find out. That night, my mom had cooked lasagna; Tara had three full plates of it.”
“She hates lasagna,” Sam said in a choked-up voice. “I know,” you responded with a small laugh, “After that night, I made sure Tara always had something to eat and that she was never alone. But the one time I wasn’t there,” you had trailed off, not being able to finish your sentence without a tear forming in your eye.
Sam knew what you were talking about: the first Ghostface attack. Instead of pushing you away, she reached her arms and grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. It was the first hug you two had ever shared, but it was still the best. The grief you two shared could be felt by each other in that warm embrace, and you both found comfort in each other’s arms, which was something no one had ever made Sam feel.
You two hold on to one another as you both quietly cry over the past, hoping to be free of it with every tear that falls down your face. It was a bonding moment, but it was something you both needed; you two needed to be vulnerable together and for the other one to pick the other up.
After a few minutes, Sam pulled back from. She wiped the remaining tears off your face as she tucked your hair behind your ear and did something unexpected but not unwelcome. Sam leaned forward and placed a small, lingering kiss on your forehead as she quietly muttered, “Thank you.”
Once Sam pulled back, she gently squeezed your shoulders as she left the kitchen. You followed after her, only stopping to watch as Sam picked up a still-sleeping Tara from the couch and returned the gremlin to her bed. While Sam dealt with Tara, you grabbed the blanket you shared with Sam and some pillows to make your ‘bed’ for the night. The couch was comfortable, and you preferred it over sleeping with Tara. As small as she was, she always took up the entire bed.
After you deemed your sleeping quarters right, you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Props to being over so much; you had your toothbrush. It was a small gesture from Tara, but it gave you unlimited bragging rights. As you brushed your teeth, you could hear Sam talking to someone. With your curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked into the hallway to see the woman talking to someone on the phone.
“Thank you for inviting me. I had fun going out with you, but I don’t want this to go any further than friendship,” she quietly said into the phone as she paced back and forth. Deciding to give her some space, you stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door before spitting out the toothpaste and then rinsing your mouth with water. You wiped your mouth off with a towel before opening the door and leaving, finding Sam still talking on the phone with a mysterious love interest.
As she continued to talk to the person, you got situated on the couch, but before you could get too comfortable, Sam started to snap her fingers at you.
“What?” You hissed out, staring at the woman growing slightly more agitated as her phone call continued. You noted that Sam had already changed into her pajamas for the night: a loose band t-shirt with a pair of shorts.
“Have a good night; I'll talk to you later,” she abruptly said as she ended the phone call, “Are you seriously sleeping on the couch?”
“Um, yeah? Where else would I sleep? And besides, the couch is comfortable,” you replied as you gave Sam a questioning look. If she was insinuating that you sleep with her in her bed, well, that warranted some questions. But not that you would reject her offer.
“Are you alright with that? I know you usually sleep with Tara, but she might try to fight you if you go in there while she’s already asleep,” Sam said, trying to hide that she wanted to ask you to sleep with her. She found comfort in holding your hand earlier, and she surprisingly enjoyed the depressing conversation you two shared in the kitchen. Sam hated to admit it, but she found herself seeking you out for comfort. Not only the comfort but the fact that you warmed her heart as well; she had started to fall for you most unexpectedly.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And besides, she usually ends up taking up the whole bed anyway. I’ll have more space out here than I will with her,” you responded, and Sam couldn’t help but nod at your words. “Yeah, she’s small, but don’t doubt how much space she can take up,” she said in agreement, “But would you like my bed?”
Now, that offer caught you off guard. You hadn’t even considered that Sam might provide you with her entire bed so she could sleep on the couch. As considerate as it might be, you were either sleeping on the sofa or in Sam’s bed with her, no in-betweens.
“No, I can’t take that from you and leave you on the couch. I’m honestly fine on it; don’t even worry about it,” you stated honestly, but Sam only shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be a good host if I let you sleep out here.”
Neither of you wanted to be the one to offer it up, but you refused even to suggest the idea of sharing a bed. Nope, that was going to have to be something that Sam does, and you would happily wallow around in her swollen pride.
Just as you predicted, Sam swallowed her pride and offered the best solution if it did come with a backhanded offer. “Since you enjoy being difficult and making me feel like a horrible person, would you want to share my bed with me? Just this once?”
When she said the sentence, it didn’t sound as rude as the first one; it sounded a lot nicer, like she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be just this once, that this night would turn into another night, and maybe even the rest of the nights you could share.
“Only if that’s alright with you,” you said in a calm, normal tone as you tried to convince Sam that you weren’t mentally bouncing off the walls. “Sounds good to me. Come on,” she replied as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to her room. Sam dared not let go of your arm the entire walk there.
Once you entered her room, she only dropped your hand as she walked over to her side of the bed. She pulled back the covers as she got in bed, stopping to stare at you. You stood uncomfortably in the middle of the doorway as you looked around Sam’s room.
You felt like you saw a new side of Sam as you admired her room; the walls had old types of vinyl, and a single guitar was hanging from the wall. Along with the guitar, there were some framed movie posters, one being ‘Kill Bill’ that was signed. There was a singular bookshelf that didn’t have a single open spot. A record player was also sitting atop her desk in the corner of her room. How you missed all of these small details when you dropped off the cookies, you had no idea.
“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, pulling you out of your mind. “Sorry; I was just looking at your stuff,” you admitted with embarrassment as you walked over to the bed. You halted before getting in as if you were waiting for Sam to change her mind and kick you out suddenly.
“Is something wrong?” Sam asks as she leans up in bed, her doe eyes shimmering under the dimly lit light. “No, no. It’s just…,” you faltered on an excuse. You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous about sharing a bed with that goddess of a woman, but you also didn’t want her to think you were disgusted by the thought of sharing a bed with her. “Do you want me to sleep in my street clothes? I have New York on me, and I doubt you want that in your bed.”
With a sigh, Sam exits her warm, comfortable bed to grab you a pair of fresh clothes. She didn’t even bother to ask if you happened to have a spare set here-which you did; she started rifling through her closet.
“Here,” she stated as she handed you a faded shirt before walking to her chest of drawers. Sam opened her top drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts for you.
“Thank you,” you said softly while grabbing the shorts from her, “I’ll change in your bathroom real quick.”
Sam hummed in response as she quickly got back into bed, missing the warmth of it.
After you had changed out of your dirty clothes, you decided to put them in Sam’s hamper—a subtle move at her being able to keep your clothes without offering them.
As you left the bathroom, you were still slightly pulling down your shirt, only showing off the lower portion of your stomach. The skin was only visible briefly, but it caught Sam’s full attention.
The scars that littered your abdomen were scattered, but she could recognize a stab wound from anywhere. The story about Jill Roberts haunted you night and day, so you never told Sam about that nightmare. The only one who had some faint idea about it was Mindy, as she had seen you naked on a few occasions. She never asked about the scars; she felt that asking would have been more intimate and personal than the sex was.
But things were different with Sam; you wanted that intimacy with her. And she liked that intimacy with you. Sam wanted to be able to share every nasty, dark part of her past with you, just as much as she wanted you to tell her your dark past. It was opening up with your pasts that allowed you two to share a possible bright future.
So, she asked you about it. “What happened?”
It was a stupid question, but Sam wanted to know your side. Of course, she was aware of the fact you were involved with the 2011 Ghostface killings, but she wanted to know why you were targeted.
You softly sighed as you climbed into bed next to Sam, who was fully sitting up with her legs crossed as she stared at you, silently encouraging you to trust her. If there was going to be anyone to judge you for your past, it certainly wasn’t going to be Samantha Carpenter.
“Well, I was nine when it happened,” you began, “and I suppose it all boils down to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
You waited several seconds, debating whether you wanted to share this information. It wasn’t a secret; it was out there for the entire world to read about, courtesy of Gale Weathers, an author who turned a tragic story into a multi-million dollar yearly profit.
“Jill was my babysitter. It was after the first few attacks, and she was still babysitting me. She was always nice to me, well, about as nice as she could be. I had been messing around in her room, and I found this camera, so of course, I started to watch what was on it. On it were videos of all of the recent attacks, ruthless shit. Instead of telling her I found it, I hid it in my backpack, and I had planned to bring it to Judy Hicks. Well, Jill finds out that it’s missing and goes ape shit.”
You shifted around in bed as you got more comfortable, opting to fully lay down on your back as Sam propped herself up onto her elbow to engage herself in your traumatizing story fully.
“Anyways, she starts ripping the house apart, turning it inside out and upside down. Of course, she eventually finds it in my backpack, and I don’t even defend myself. I just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. The scariest part about it was that she didn’t even hesitate. One moment, she had my backpack in hand, then the next, she had a knife,” you finished, not wanting to recall the gruesome experience.
Sam was silent momentarily as she thought over what to say to you. She wanted to comfort you, but she didn’t know how. In a way, she felt like your attack had been her fault. Logically, it couldn’t have been, but she felt guilty about it, guilty about her father.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age,” Sam stated. She truly did feel heartbroken for you, but she couldn’t seem to express her sorrow adequately. The only emotion she was good at convening was her anger, a trait she inherited from both her mother and father.
“It is what it is,” you replied with a soft sigh, “Who were you talking to earlier?”
The older Carpenter sister let out a small groan as she fell onto her back, running her hands down her face to add dramatic effect. “It was Danny,” she replied as she interlaced her fingers and placed them on her stomach.
“Oh yeah?” You asked with a teasing tone. Now it was your turn to prop up onto your elbow. “What did he want?”
“He just wanted to go on another date,” Sam responded, to which you huffed. This slight noise got her attention; she turned her head to the side to look at you as if she were studying your facial expressions to try and guess what you were thinking. “Why do you ask?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “Just curious. You seemed annoyed, and you hung up pretty quickly. Just thought you were having a sneaky link I didn’t know about.”
“Oh, please. If I wanted a sneaky link, I certainly wouldn’t let my family know about it,” she joked softly, and your heart erupted. Sam’s smile was rare, even more rare around you. It was as if the angles had parted the sky, and you could catch a glimpse into heaven. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen, but the most teasing one.
“Okay, but be honest: what happened?” You pressed on while clarifying that you respected Sam’s boundaries if she didn’t want to tell you.
“We went on a date. Danny kissed me because he felt something; I didn’t feel anything. He called to ask me on another date; I said no. Simple as that,” she replied with a monotone voice, but you knew there was more to the story.
“Sam,” you said with a soft voice.
“Mhm?”
“I will throw myself out of your window if you don’t tell me the truth.”
“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam questioned with a voice full of laughter as she smiled from ear to ear.
“Tell me, or I’ll paint the sidewalk red,” you joked with a smile that matched hers.
“I told him no because I don’t want to be with him,” she replied honestly as she stared at you with those dark, doe eyes. You swore you could get lost in that void. “Now, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”
You scoffed at her but entirely laid down nonetheless. “I guess so,” you grumbled as you rolled onto your side, facing away from Sam.
Sam only laughed at your shitty attempt to pout as she got out of bed to turn off the overhead light. Once she was back in bed, she rolled onto her side to face your back.
Slowly and very hesitantly, she wiggled closer to you, wrapping a loving arm around your waist. Sam didn’t have to wait long before she felt your hand atop hers, pulling her closer to you. Soon enough, her entire front was pressed against your back, and you couldn’t have been happy. Your heart seemed to only beat for Sam, as your entire body started to feel like it was catching on fire.
“You know,” Sam whispered into the dark room, “I listened to Julien Baker the other day.”
“That’s not the one I was talking about,” you responded, not missing a beat.
She scoffed at your weak response, “There’s too many.”
“Girl, there are only three!”
“Whatever,” she mumbled while she pulled you closer into her body as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Sam placed a chaste kiss on your head before slowly drifting off to sleep, with you in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The picture frames hung on the walls rattled as the loud, booming sound of music filled the air. Against your will, the twins plus Tara dragged you to a frat party. Drunken college students mixed with obnoxious music was not your cup of tea, but you did enjoy the theme: early 2000s club. From Lady Gaga to Timbaland, even to Beyoncé, it was the first time a party had gotten the music right! There’s nothing wrong with today’s music; they don’t make them like they used to.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Tara offered. Even though she forced you to go out tonight, she still wanted you to have fun without pressuring you to do too much. She could be a little asshole sometimes, but she had her soft moments.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” you replied softly. The two of you were sitting together on the only couch that didn't have people either passed out or making out, even though Tara suggested doing either with you.
“Tara, I think you are wonderful and completely captivating, but I do not want your tongue down my throat,” you joked with a soft laugh. The younger Carpenter whined in response as she kicked her feet up into your lap.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. It’s the other Carpenter’s tongue you want,” she teased with a wink as she made a V with her middle and pointer finger, bringing it to her lips while sticking out her tongue.
“What is wrong with you?” You questioned while politely shoving the more petite girl, forcing her to stop. “Oh yeah, how come I found you two wrapped up in each other’s arms then? Mmm?” She pressed.
It was a simple question but an entirely challenging one as well. You needed a place to sleep, so Sam offered to share her bed with you, as it was better than the couch. That part you could explain, but you couldn’t explain why or how you woke to Sam’s face pressed against your chest. It was the first time you had ever felt so loved, so seen. It wasn’t just you who had found so much comfort that night. Sam loved falling asleep to your heartbeat; the drumming sound soon became a lullaby.
“She tried to kill me and forced me to share her bed for warmth,” you stated, but Tara didn’t believe you for a second. “You know, if you would have told me that four months ago, I would have believed you. But now that you have stolen my sister from me and somehow tricked her into falling for you, I don’t believe you.”
Your ears perked up at the mention of Sam falling for you, and your cheeks started to get warm at the thought of Sam recouping your feelings. “She likes me?” You asked with a love-sick smile on your lips.
Tara rolled her eyes at your question and pushed herself off your lap. “I don’t know how you did it, but Sam cares about you. I think she started to go soft on you when you took her to that musical,” she stated as she stuck out her right arm to you. You grabbed onto her hand and allowed the more petite girl to pull you off of the couch, then you followed her into the kitchen.
“I didn’t even know that Sam likes musicals,” you commented as you grabbed a Seagram from the bucket full of ice on the kitchen island. “She loves them more than me. I fully believe Sam would sell me for some ‘Six’ tickets,” Tara remarked as she grabbed a beer.
You laughed at the younger Carpenter comment. Sadly, she wasn’t being dramatic; you now knew the extent of Sam’s love for musicals, and you hated that you agreed with Tara.
“Yeah, I hate that you believe you on that one,” you replied as you followed Tara into the backyard. The two of you sat down together on a swing, drinking in silence as you two silently judged the drunks amongst you.
All in all, it was a nice night to socialize; exams were finished up for the week, and you two needed a break from all of it. It was nice to get out occasionally with friends, even though you preferred drinking the safety net of your own home. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust people. It was that you hated being around drunk people, and you were a homebody. But just when you started relaxing at the party, the universe had to ruin it for you.
It wasn’t anything terrible at first; Tara had left to grab some more beers for the two of you. She was back within a minute, and as she walked toward you, a man grabbed her arm and pulled her into him.
You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you could tell from the anger in Tara’s eyes that it wasn’t anything good. Sometimes, you wondered if the Loomis genes were airborne, due to how quickly Tara got angry and violent.
Before you had any time to react, Tara had taken the beer bottle in her right hand and smashed it against the man’s head, causing him to fall to the ground. You quickly sprang up from your comfortable seat as you rushed over to Tara, now held back by two of your friends from college. You checked over her hands to ensure no glass had gotten in them, and when you deemed her safe, you took her from friends, who then went to check on the man, who was still on the ground.
“Come on,” you mumbled as you dragged Tara from the backyard and into the front yard.
When you two entered the front yard, she shook herself from your grasp and dramatically flung herself onto the ground, sighing in defeat. The air was full of tension as you stared down at the more petite girl, who held her head in shame.
“What happened?” You questioned as you sat down next to her. With a sigh, she wrapped her arm around yours and rested her head on your shoulder. “He’s from my theoretical film studies class. The other day, we had argued about the Harry Potter movies. And-do not fucking laugh at that!” She exclaimed as she playfully smacked your arm once you started to laugh at her.
“I’m sorry, but you two argued over Harry Potter?” You asked with laughter in your voice, “That’s insane!”
“Shut up, no, it's not. Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted,” she replied with attitude, “the argument was over who was the real bad guy: Dumbledore or Snape. We disagreed, but we didn’t have enough time to discuss it before class ended. Tonight, he stopped me to tell me I was wrong and that he was right, and I kinda got a little angry.”
“‘A little angry?’ You smashed a bottle against his head,” you exclaimed with a look of bewilderment.
“I’m little; my anger fills up my entire body, and sometimes it gets the best of me,” she shrugged as she stood up and held out a hand, “Come on, let's go home.”
You accepted her hand as you followed her home. You didn’t need to ask what she meant by home; you both knew it was the Carpenter’s apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You did what?!” Sam shouted as she stared down you and Tara. The two of you were sitting down on the couch together, sharing shame as you listened to Sam ridicule you. “I let you go out for one night and I promised not to text you the entire time, and you do this? And you,” she then turned her attention toward you, “I can’t believe you let this happen.”
“Sam, I'm so sorry. It happened so quick and I-” you tried to defend but she interrupted you. “You had one job, Y/n. One!”
Sam paced back and forth as she rubbed her temples. This was supposed to be a night of relaxing; she had already had two glasses of wine and ate a little bit too much pasta that was acceptable. Sam even had plans to ask you to stay the night again, that’s why she had the wine; she needed that liquid courage to taste your lips for the first time.
But now, as she went over the possible outcomes of her sister assaulting one of her classmates, all she wanted to do was go to sleep. With a sigh, she dropped her hands and stopped pacing. “Alright,” Sam said in a defeated voice, “I will let it slide, but just this once. Go take your shower, but then you are going to bed.”
Tara was out of the room as soon as Sam said it was okay, not wanting to waste a second as she feared that her sister might change her mind. Tara also wanted to give her sister some alone time with you; she noticed the wine glass on the living room table and she was praying that tonight would be the night the two of you stopped pussyfooting around.
“Sam?” Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and her eyes automatically snapped to you. “What’s up?” She asked.
You stood up from the couch as you approached her. “I’m sorry about tonight. If I would have known that was going to happen, I would have stopped her,” you apologized but Sam was already shaking her head.
“No, it's okay,” she replied as she grabbed her wine glass and finished it off as she walked into the kitchen, with you a few paces behind her.
“Are you sure?” You quietly asked as you awkwardly looked around. “Yeah. Why do you ask?” She questioned as she placed her glass on the counter and looked at you. You could feel her eyes burning into your skin, and you couldn’t help the words that soon poured out of your mouth.
“I don’t know, I’m just worried that you are actually really upset with me but you don’t want to tell me that because you don’t want to upset me. I’m worried that things are different between us now, and I don’t know why I feel that. I’m just terrified I fucked up somehow, and I really really like you, Sam. I’ve worked so hard to gain your trust and now I’m scared I lost it. So, I am so sorry-” she cut off your rambling by cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours.
Your heart automatically started beating quicker as your hands found home on her hips, pulling her closer into you. When you kissed her back, you could have sworn she let out the slightest moan, and it drove your mind insane.
You couldn’t recall her walking toward you, but the only thing that was running through your mind was how soft her lips were; how sweet they tasted mixed with the wine.
The wine.
You quickly pulled away from Sam’s lips. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do anything while you’ve been drinking,” you apologized, but your eyes darted between Sam’s own eyes and her lips.
With a soft laugh, Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek, something she had found out she loved doing. “It’s okay, Y/N. I really really like you too, and I hope that we could possibly go on another date again soon?” Sam asked with a look of hopefulness, and you had to fight the urge to lean back in.
“You’re also considering the musical a date too?” You questioned with red cheeks. Sam nodded her head with a smile that matched hers, and oh how your heart beat for the woman in front of you. You swore you were love drunk off those lips that you’ve only tasted once, but now that you’ve tasted them, you’re sure that nothing was as sweet.
“Y/N, would you like to stay the night?” Sam asked, “With me?”
“Are you trying to get in my pants?” You teased as you playfully pushed her shoulders, to which she grabbed your hand and pulled you into her.
Sam reached up with her right hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then ran her fingers down the side of your jaw as she admired your features. “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know that,” she admitted as her thumb stroked your jawline, “But I hope over time I can make it up to you fully. I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and I’m sorry I was that dense. I know you are just following Gale’s writing as a way to forge your own career, and I shouldn’t have blamed you for the book she wrote.”
Sam took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for how much of a dick I’ve been to you, and I would like to make it up to you,” her voice got quieter as her eyes refused to meet yours, “By hopefully being your girlfriend?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to wrap your mind around what Sam just asked. When her eyes did meet yours, they were holding so much love and hope that you felt your heart explode. Tears welded in your eyes as you cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a loving kiss, forgetting about the alcohol in her system.
“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you mumbled against her lips as you quickly pecked them, “But how much have you had to drink tonight?”
The older Carpenter sister laughed at your comment as she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward her room. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m sure you and the demon child have had more than me. Besides, I only needed a few drinks to actually make a move on you,” Sam admitted as she opened her bedroom door and dropped your hand, to your disappointment, “But how much have you had?”
You shrugged your shoulders as you walked over to the vinyl set in Sam’s room and began flipping through them. “I’m fine; a little buzzed but nothing too bad,” you replied.
���Mhm, yeah, you’re not as awkward as you usually are. I don’t like it,” Sam stated as she handed you a clean pair of clothes to change into you. You noticed they were her clothes, and an embarrassing large smile over took your lips as you finally realized that Sam Carpenter was your girlfriend.
You leaned to kiss her, but Sam placed her hands on your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. You gave her a little pout, so to make you feel just a little bit better, she sighed and gave your cheek a kiss. “Go change and get ready for bed,” she quietly commanded you and you did as told.
The clothes fit you perfectly, as if Sam had bought them just for you. There was a toothbrush laying on the sink, still in its packaging, and you knew that Sam had gone out shopping for you tonight.
Walking into the bedroom, you climbed into bed with the older Carpenter, who was sitting upright with her back against the headboard of her bed, reading a book. “Did you buy me a toothbrush today?” You asked as you laid down and scooted closer to Sam, wrapping your arm around her waist.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied as placed her bookmark in the book and set it down on the nightstand, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there was a toothbrush that hadn’t been opened yet, and these clothes fit a little bit too nice,” you commented as you watched Sam turn off the bedside lamp and lay down next to you.
“Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied as she pulled you into her body. Sam brought her hand up to the back of your neck and brought your head close to her chest. You sighed in comfort as you nozzled your head, hoping to get as close as you can to her breasts without making Sam uncomfortable.
Sam placed a kiss on your head as she tightly hugged you, “Goodnight Y/N.”
“Goodnight, my lovely girlfriend who used to hate me,” you cheekily replied, earning a laugh from Sam.
“When will you ever let that go?” Sam asked with a slight annoyance in her voice, but you knew she was joking.
“I don’t know, until I’ve deemed that enough time has passed for me to be able to move on,” you replied, “But a goodnight kiss would help.”
The Latina chuckled at your words as the hand that was your head was now cupping your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, and you knew that you could never leave them. So when Sam pulled away, you chased after her lips, hoping to taste them for just a second longer.
But she stopped you, much to your disappointment. “In the morning you will give you all of the special treatment you want. But for now, let’s go to bed,” Sam stated in a loving voice, and all you did was nod your agreement. You placed your head back on your chest as you two allowed sleep to overtake you.
When the morning came, you awoke before Sam, greeting her with kisses all over her face and sweet nothings about how much you cherished her as your girlfriend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin
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yandere-sins · 6 months
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Today, I was thinking about Kar'niss the drider, who—mad and confused—stumbles over a nearly dead darling in the Shadowlands.
You're already as good as gone, life sapped out of you mercilessly by the shadows gnawing at you. They burn your skin and dig into your very soul while strangling you slowly, agonizingly to death, trying to take over your body and make you into one of the lifeless puppets wandering around unprotected. It's your own fault for getting into this mess, yet you prayed and wished for nothing more than to be released from the torture.
Perhaps that's why it's so surprising when instead of eternal, restless death, your body is enveloped in a gentle light, bright and freeing you of the shadows that quickly retreat. You gasp and wheeze as you jolt back to life, coughing and contorting until you finally get your own mind back.
It hurts to look, yet you cannot help but stare into the blinding light, trying to determine where it's coming from. Only now can you make out faint noises coming from it, the shadows having wrecked your hearing badly enough so that you didn't notice it before. Metal clanking and a voice. It almost makes you believe in a god again, as you mistake the light to be talking to you.
Imagine the shock, the ice-cold shiver that runs through you when your eyes finally adjust. When the real monster behind the voice comes into the light, mumbling and yelling nonsensical phrases about 'feeding the shadows' and 'her majesty's will'. Half of its body resembles a man, the other half is spider through and through. His skin seems more leathery and armored, and his fingertips are contorted into claws. What you thought were dark jewels adorning his face turn out to be eyes, and you choke on a scream as they blink, their focus suddenly shifts entirely on you.
"Who are you? What are you doing, feeding the shadows?! It's not right, it's not...! Ah, yes, your majesty! Your light guides us, protects us. We are eternally grateful!"
As if almost dying and being rescued by a drider isn't bad enough, madness seems to be dripping off of him the moment he notices you through his hazy mind. You can tell that there is no reasoning with your savior, no last bit of sanity to appeal to, your instincts tell you. He leans down, and you cower, trying to get away. But the moment you leave the lantern's glow, you feel the shadows reaching for you again. You have no idea what's going on as the drider makes another step forward, the light enveloping you again, but you start to listen to his rambles, the way he calls out to some queen, reverently so.
And your blood runs cold when, in his mumbles, you hear him call you a gift.
"My queen, are you giving them to me? Is this my reward? I will not complain about this most generous gift, majesty!"
Your arm is caught by him quicker than you can get away, though his grip only tightens when you struggle, his skin feeling wrong against yours. Appalling. But when you stop thrashing like a fly caught in a spiderweb, he gently pulls you to a stand, waiting for you to regain your strength before he starts walking, tugging you with him. The shadows want to reach for you, pull you back, and you fearfully step closer to the drider, making him chuckle.
There's nothing you can do, his grip on you firm and the shadows being the only alternative to walking with him. He keeps blubbering and laughing about his thoughts, conversing with someone you can't see but who he seems to revere. But at the same time, you feel at least one pair of eyes fixating on you in every moment of your journey, even if you don't know which one is looking. Everything about him is freaking you out, but when you reach a massive building with people walking around, you can't help but feel thankful to the drider for bringing you back to civilization.
That is, until someone tries to talk to you. He does not like that.
Letting go of your arm, he snatches you by your waist instead, your feet dangling above the ground while you feel the air being forced out of your lungs from the pressure he puts you against his chest with. It's all so unnatural, and you can't help but struggle in fear when, suddenly, his bellowing voice makes you freeze.
"NO! This is my gift! Our Queen has gifted them to me! They are not for you to take! You are not worthy!"
And just like that, after baring his fangs and driving away the people you thought were going to help you, his anger disappears almost immediately as he cradles you, cooing much softer words in your direction than to the others. "It's alright, sweet gift. They'll not take you from me. We'll be together, as has our Queen decided."
With that, you feel like your body is flying through the air, clutched against him, as his many legs are swiftly put into motion. When you force yourself to look over his shoulder, you are already far up in the air, watching the ground distance itself more and more. All you can do is cling onto him in fear of falling to your death, and he breathes you in deeply before you two reach the top, his lips contorted into a smile when you finally meet his eyes again.
"Mine, all mine. My sweet little gift."
NSFW-ish below
I'd like to think he has taken one of the free towers that are more or less empty and spun a pretty web for his darling inside. Kar'niss takes care of you, rarely letting you outside (only if you convinced him over the span of days that you'd so like to take a stroll with him) because he really doesn't want anyone else to see, touch, or talk to what is his, even when he needs to go and guide souls to the tower. You will probably go as insane as he is, listening to his rambling and trying to appease him when you accidentally say something to send him into a fit of rage.
There are so many ways to punish you, too. Simply leaving you in the darkness after your almost death reverts you into a crying, sobbing mess that Kar'niss will love to soothe you, dedicating himself to cuddling and cradling you in his arms and lolling around in the web with you while he tells you he and the grace of her majesty are always with you. 
He's also just painful to be around, especially when he's so irrational, and you cannot move out of the way of his fangs, claws, and legs. Everything about him feels strange, giving you no comfort, but he can hurt you so easily it makes you paranoid. When you ask him to, or he's currently obsessing over you, his touch can be gentle, and Kar'niss has proven his soft caresses to you many times. But if a leg or his hands accidentally swipes you, you bleed. It's just how things are. 
Also, suppose you displease him by speaking against his queen or setting him off by denying him the pleasure of being with you. In that case, he'll just stop caring for you, sitting outside the tower where he keeps you, and sulks. (The Absolute is probably telling him to go back, so he's also bickering a bit with her. Kind of an impressive achievement on your side.) He listens to you and waits until you start begging and pleading for him (or anyone) to come back and help you, to not leave you there to rot like this. Yet, Kar'niss makes you suffer for a while longer to punish you while ensuring no one comes near you. 
But it does excite him when he goes back, and you cry and call to him and apologize for what you did, swearing you won't do it again. Excites him a lot. You do love him too, don't you? Of course you do... his queen would not have given you to him if that wasn't the case. You are meant for each other, after all. So he can forgive you this time.
Once he realizes you're in need of a parasite, he'll probably start connecting his disturbed mind with yours, giving you severe brain damage as you are flooded with his thoughts. But it'll finally give him the chance to show you exactly what he wants. Force you to believe in the Absolute like him by torturing you with his devotion and admiration until you break. Now, you'll finally understand your purpose as his mate, too. Accept him. Share his love for you and his majesty.
And since he has a new deity talking to him that isn't Lolth, who knows he cannot have children, Kar'niss might be convinced that he's supposed to make babies for the Absolute. He can't, technically (and maybe you can't either), but that doesn't stop him from talking about how he'll give his majesty new worshippers and how the two of you will be so worthy of her and have Absolute-babies. Kar'niss gets so excited at the idea of you being full and round from his offspring he almost drools, unable to wait any longer once the seed has been planted in his shattered mind.
So all you can do is ask him nicely to prepare you, to make sure he doesn't rip something or is gentle with those sharp claws and teeth no matter how eager he is. Just imagine how happy he'd be when you tell him that you could possibly be pregnant after all the orgasms he gave you—a lie, but you just really need him to stop. He'll be enraged if he finds out that you are not, but hey, he can always try again. And maybe someone will come to help him with his plan. Maybe Araj Oblodra could be convinced to offer a child or spider eggs to quench the Drider's baby frenzy, or the Absolute will give him a child like she gave him a darling.
Either way, until he dies, you're not getting out of this. And even then, someone would have to find you first and rescue you.
If they don't deem you too far gone already.
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pupkashi · 1 month
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volvi a nacer
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gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side
a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !
wordcount - 2,737
masterlist
translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart
there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.
he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.
you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.
“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”
for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.
it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.
“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.
you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.
“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.
“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.
satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.
it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.
he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.
“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.
satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”
“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.
“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.
satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.
how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.
“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.
“thinking ‘bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”
“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.
“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.
“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.
“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.
“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.
“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.
“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.
“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.
three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.
yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.
the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.
“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.
“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”
you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.
“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.
“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.
“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.
“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.
satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.
you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).
it had taken time, but satoru had healed.
your love had healed him.
“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.
“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.
“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.
“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.
“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.
you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.
“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.
satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.
“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”
“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.
“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.
“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.
“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.
“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”
angel boy.
the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.
satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.
he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.
satoru gojo wants to marry you.
he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.
it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.
instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.
he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.
he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.
satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?
later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”
you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”
satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.
one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.
“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.
“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”
you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.
there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?
the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.
satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.
“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.
“something like that.”
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nothinglikeafire · 2 years
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drvscarlett · 1 month
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About You Pt5
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this
Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld
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2010, Istanbul Park
The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.
It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.
"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.
"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.
"For me or for Mark?"
Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.
"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"
"I'm not gonna comment on that"
"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts
"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.
Bestfriend.
And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.
"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.
"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.
"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.
It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.
Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.
The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.
Then it happened all so quickly.
Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.
'Y/N Webber
Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'
The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.
"It was Vettel's fault"
"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"
"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"
Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.
A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.
"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"
"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.
"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered
"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"
Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.
"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.
"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.
She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.
Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.
2010, Silverstone Circuit
Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.
It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.
"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.
"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"
"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.
"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.
The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.
"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented
"I sure hope so"
The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.
"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.
Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.
"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.
She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.
"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.
She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.
"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked
Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.
"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added
Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.
"Of course Mick"
"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"
The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.
2010, Hockenheimring
Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.
She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.
"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.
It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.
"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"
"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.
She is probably local, Y/N thinks.
"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"
"Of course"
Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.
"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed
Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.
"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.
Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.
"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked
"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"
Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.
"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"
2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps
Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.
However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.
Only,he wasn't the only one there.
"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"
Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.
He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.
"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.
They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.
"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.
"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.
There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.
It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.
"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.
"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"
"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures
The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.
"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face
"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.
No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.
"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"
He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.
"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.
Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
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Nagging II
Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader
Summary: You come back from national duty sick
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In all honesty, you blamed Selma.
It was all her fault. She came down with something just minutes after your match against Portugal. You were ninety percent sure she had sneezed all over your things but with no way to prove it, you blamed her from a distance.
The day you got back to Barcelona was spent hovering over your toilet bowl and throwing up all of the crappy plane food you ate earlier.
Your head pounded and you wished you had blackout blinds because even the faintest sliver of sunlight made it worse.
You sent Jona a text as soon as you could deal with the light from your phone, saying that you would be taking the next few days off.
He replied with a thumbs up and you left it at that as another wave of nausea coursed through you and you crouched over your toilet bowl.
You didn't even think about texting any of your teammates, more focussed on keeping down anything you ate.
You dimmed your lights and closed your blinds when the nausea disappeared enough for you to move before retreating back to your bathroom floor.
You don't know when you fell back asleep but the cold tiles against your cheeks were soothing and the silence felt nice in your blocked ears.
You only woke up when you felt someone nudging at your shoulder. You groaned, your eyelids feeling like they were glued together so you blindly batted at whoever was touching you
"Come on, kiddo." You recognised Lucy's voice but still refused to open your eyes, more than content to lay limp on your bathroom floor. "Up you get."
Lucy didn't seem to be taking no for an answer so you cracked open your eyelids. It was the wrong move though because as soon as you opened them, it was like your stomach realised that it was feeling sick because you had to launch yourself at the toilet as you dry heaved over the bowl.
"Or, on second thought, you can stay there," She said, nose wrinkling in disgust as you collapsed on top of your toilet," How long have you been feeling like this?"
You could barely make sense of her words as you moved to rest back against the tiled walls. Your chest rose and fell erratically as you tried to regain your breath.
"Have you eaten?"
"Jesus," You groaned," How many of there are you?"
Alexia stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. She was looking at you with disapproval but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. "Have you eaten?"
You gestured to your toilet. "Does it look like I can keep anything down?"
"Have you taken some medicine, at least?"
This time, it was Lucy who answered," Does it look like she can even walk?"
Alexia sighed, bringing her fingers up to massage her temple. "How long has this been going on? Why did we have to hear about it from Jona?"
You groaned, your head pounding. "If you're going to ask me so many questions can you at least slow them down?"
A head popped around the doorway. "Is she still alive?"
"Yes, Mapi," Alexia said," She's still alive."
"Good," Mapi replied," Because Ingrid's making soup and I don't want her to waste the effort if it turns out that the kid is dead."
"God," You groaned, finally sitting upright again," It's nice to know how I rank on your list of priorities, Mapi."
Mapi scrunched her nose up at you. "You look like death warmed up. Have we got to go to the hospital?"
When Lucy and Alexia began to look like they were contemplating it, you fought back against the swirling of your stomach.
"No, no hospital," You said, getting up shakily and sagging against Lucy when she moved to help you," It's just a little sickness. Selma's already let it run its course on her. I'll be fine in a few days."
"We'll be the judge of that," Lucy said as she guided you out of your bathroom and onto the sofa.
Ingrid was at your stove, mixing up a pot of soup while Frido seemed to flutter around your entire apartment, doing all of the chores you had put off since coming back from France.
"I knew I shouldn't have let you come back here," Lucy muttered as she forced you to drink an electrolyte drink," I should have just made you come home with me."
Most of the time, you lived with Lucy while playing at Barcelona but the club still paid for an apartment for you. Your flight in last night was late and you just told Lucy you would crash at your own place and go back with her after training.
"We can deal with that later," Alexia said dismissively as she shoved a thermometer into your mouth," Leave that there!"
"I don't even own one of these," You complained around it.
"I bought one with me," Frido said as she brought over Ingrid's soup," You need to stock up on medicine too. You've got nothing."
"I don't need to stock up on anything if I've never bought any. Wh-" You were cut off by Mapi shoving a spoonful of soup into your mouth.
The older girls all talked over the top of your head.
"I can take her home with me," Lucy said," We just need to pack her a bag."
"No," Alexia said," She's sick. She shouldn't move anywhere until she's better."
"Mapi and I can stay with her tonight," Ingrid said," One of us can make sure she's okay and the other can stock up on medicine."
"She said it's a short bug," Alexia nodded," So hopefully it won't be too bad."
"I don't know..." Frido looked over at the way you pushed away Mapi and her spoon in favour of hunching over and squeezing at your head. "She's only a kid. I think at least a week."
"A week..." Alexia fell silent for a moment. "Ingrid, if you and Mapi are okay with watching over her tonight then I'll take over for tomorrow and the day after. Frido can have the next two and then Lucy..."
"If she's alright after Frido's shift I'll take her back to my place," Lucy said," And if she's not, I'll hang out here until she's well enough."
"Good," Alexia said. She grabbed one of your blankets from the dryer and threw it around your shoulders. "Does anyone have Renard's number? It would probably be best if someone told her that her protege's down for the count."
"I've got it," Lucy said before wincing," God, I'm screwed. She's going to have my head."
"Just blame Selma," You said, having enough of the girls talking about you like you weren't in the room with them," It's her fault anyway."
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Text
CHANGE OF PLANS
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Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader
Summary - When plans don't go as expected, Jackson refuses to go home empty handed.
Warnings - 18+, noncon, sex tape, anal, rough sex
Word count - 4k+
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You couldn’t even drink the overpriced, heavily sweetened, high calorie dense coffee in your hand. All you could do was stir your drink with your stirrer, your eyes were red and mouth dry from that overnight flight. It felt like there was a bottomless pit in your stomach, growing continuously.
Jackson sat across from you, watching you like a prey. He was trying to deconstruct everything you were thinking. His eyes were dark and jaw clenched as he let his coffee go cold. Tapping his fingers on his thigh, his sight lowered to your cleavage, he felt his cock twitch. 
The phone rang, instantly Jackson brought it to his ear and spoke, “hello?”
Your eyes shot up to him, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shivers were running in all directions across your skin. Jackson’s expression showed how focused he was on the call, but he showed no emotion. 
“Oh, lucky us. Contact me when you have more information” Jackson gritted his teeth. Hanging up the phone, Jackson slid it back into his jacket pocket. He stared off into the distance, watching the travelers come and go. “You lucky fucking bitch” Jackson snarled, his eyes snapped to you, your eyebrows furrowed and blood froze. “Keefe left the room early due to an emergency…” Jackson explained, his words trailing. “Luckily enough we were notified before we could make the hit” he added, his stare was intimidating, as if this was all your fault. 
His hand started tapping on the flimsy table in a rhythm as he thought. “Change of plans unfortunately, if you want your dad to live, you gotta come with me” Jackson sighed, he was not going home empty handed. Jackson stood up and picked up his small luggage. You stared at him with wide eyes.  
“But I did what you asked me!” You cried out, your voice went dry and your body began to shake. Looking down at you, he sighed and kneeled beside you. 
“Yes, I know you were a good girl. And since you were such a good girl, I think you’d be more than happy to do one more thing for me” Jackson winked to you, holding your hands in his. It was difficult with how to react, you just wanted to go home, too exhausted to even consider what he wanted from you. The advantage of witnesses was on your side, he couldn’t force you out. Jackson picked up on this instantly, “remember your dad’s life is only one call away” he hissed, tapping his foot impatiently. 
Blinking back the tears, you stood up and picked up your luggage. He held out his hand for you, reluctantly you took it. Following Jackson out of the crowded terminal, his hold was harsh as he was almost yanking your arm out of its socket. Arriving at the taxi stand, you got into one almost instantly. 
Instead of you both sitting on either side of the back, Jackson decided to sit in the middle. “Where bouts you going?” The driver asked, having a zero care factor in his tone.
“To a motel” Jackson sighed, his hand resting on your knee. 
“Which one?” The driver scoffed. 
“Any” Jackson muttered and gestured his hand for the driver to hurry up, he was impatient.  
You remained curled up against the door, looking out the window in hopes for any distractions, the Miami sun shined on your face yet you still felt so cold. Jackson pulled back out his phone and made a call. His words fell dead on your ears, your mind felt fuzzy. You were meant to be going home, but now he’s probably going to be holding you in captivity until he figures out his new game plan, thinking of a way to keep you quiet. His hand was tracing circles on your thigh, he hung up and looked down to you. 
“You okay?” Jackson murmured. The driver would be oblivious to his true sinister nature. You could only act and nod your head, his smile was innocent to the blind eye. Pressing his lips to your temple, you had to resist your gag. 
The driver dropped you off at the motel, it looked dirty and cheap, so there would definitely be a room. You followed Jackson into the reception room, he gestured to you to take a seat as he walked up to the receptionist. Within a couple of minutes, Jackson was fiddling with the room key and tilted his head towards the door for you to follow. 
Trailing up the stairs behind him, your eyes darted around as he stuck the key into the lock. The door creaked open, Jackson waltzed inside and threw his bag onto the chair, bee lining straight to the bathroom. Creeping inside, you looked around the cheap room, to be fair, it didn’t look so bad. Just outdated and maybe a bit too dusty. 
Jackson washed his face and stared in the mirror, his expression dark and cold as his fingers tapped on the countertop. Through the mirror, you were in sight, awkwardly standing in the corner of the room, looking down. Appearing back into the room, Jackson grinned to you as he laid on the bed, his elbows propped up his upper body. 
“Come to me” his smug look sent shivers down your spine. 
Hesitantly, you approached Jackson, your arms crossed over as you rubbed anxiously. Standing before him, your eye level was low, as Jackson stared you up and down continuously.
“Did I tell you how breathtaking I think you are?” Jackson asked, his mouth ajar open, ocean blue eyes fixated on you. You knew exactly where this was going. The last thing you wanted to do was engage in this conversation, but you didn’t want to know the consequences if you didn’t. But hey, he’s probably just a two pump chump like the rest of them and then your nightmare will be over. 
“N-no” you shuddered. 
“Come here then, let me tell you” Jackson purred, slightly flexing his hips forward towards you, you couldn’t hide your expression of shock when you saw the tent in his pants. 
The ache told you in your body that you needed to throw up, but you had to swallow that thought as you did as he said. Sitting on the bed next to him, his lips pressed to the crook of your neck instantly. Shuddering, your arms locked over your chest as he hummed by you. 
“Such a pretty girl” Jackson complimented you, his hand gripping onto your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. Should have worn pants, you swore to yourself. “What a good girl you have been for me” Jackson smiled, his tongue gently swirling over your earlobe. Without your consent, Jackson started unbuttoning your blouse. “Are you going to stay a good girl for me?” Jackson asked condescendingly as he forced your arms to your sides.
“Y-yes” you whimpered whilst he was kneading your tits, admiring your pretty little cream bra.  
The fabric was pulled off of your arms. Unclasping the hooks, Jackson took off your bra and stared at your exposed chest in awe. “So fucking breathtaking, you were quite distracting, I won’t lie. I had to jerk off a couple of times watching you, my desires got the better of me!” Jackson moaned, his mouth now over your chest as his tongue began to swirl over your hardened nipple. “Wanted to sneak into your room and fuck you dirty so bad…” he mumbled, smelling in your scent. “Lie down” Jackson ordered, pushing you gently. 
Obeying him, you lied on the bed and Jackson smiled down at you. Jackson hopped off the bed and went to his bag, he pulled out a tie a matching shade to his jacket and walked back over to you. “Hands above your head, love” Jackson winked, kneeling on the edge of the bed. 
“Please” you whimpered, 
“Do you trust me baby girl?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow up, following up with lifting you to the head of the bed. 
No. But you would be an idiot to say that to him. 
Reluctantly with a staggered breath, you raised your hands above your head. Jackson swiftly and tightly tied your hands through a loop in the bed frame. Giving it a test tug, you were helpless underneath him. The smirk was evil as he looked down to your exposed chest, his hand trailing over your hardened nipples. 
Jackson sighed as he hopped back off the bed, heading back over to his belongings. Anxiously you watched his back, he pulled out an object and was fiddling with it. 
“What are you doing?” You whined slightly, the anticipation was killing you, shamefully, you wanted him to just get to it. 
When Jackson turned around, your stomach fell. Why the fuck does he have a camrecorder? One of those small ones that can fit into an inside jacket pocket, with a flip screen. 
Jackson chuckled as he walked back over to the bed, placing the camcorder on the edge of the bed. “Insurance” he answered with a tsk as he took off his jacket. 
“Please no! Please don’t do this!” You begged, the last thing you wanted was to have his assault on tape. When Jackson ignored your pleas, you tried to kick it off, hopefully break it but Jackson caught your foot and gave you a warning look. 
“Oh baby girl, don’t worry. This is more so for personal pleasure. I won’t show a soul, unless you decide to be a brat and make any false claims to anyone about me… You’d hate to have this sent to everyone you know, ruining your reputation over some little lies about a friendly stranger sitting next to you, wouldn’t you?” Jackson shot you a deadly glare as he slid off your heels, his hands caressing over your shivering skin. 
“Please!” You tried to beg, but you knew it was falling on deaf ears. 
“Don’t make me fucking gag you” Jackson snarled as he pounced on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours” he whispered, his lips gently brushing over yours as you shivered at his touch. “I thought you trusted me” Jackson pouted, noticing how badly you were trying to break out of the restraint. “Be a bad girl and I’ll leave you on the edge. But be a good girl, and you can come as many times as you want. That’s a fair deal isn’t it?” Jackson asked smugly. 
This was Jackson’s stress reliever, his payback, as if you were the emergency to get Keefe out of the hotel. Now because of this misconvenience Jackson will have to go back to the drawing board, and get a large sum cut from his paycheck for missing the deadline. He always knew the chances of it not going to plan, there were precautions put in place if this did indeed happen. It was just a bitch when it did indeed happen, it was like getting a shit review on Yelp. There would only be one more chance however, so if Jackson fucked that up then he is done for. 
The pressure of his bulge pressed into your open stomach. You remained still underneath him, not wanting to create any friction between the two of you. Jackson pressed his lips to the side of your mouth, and then the other side, and then he kissed you fully. Fearfully, you opened your mouth for his tongue to slide in as he grips onto your breasts. 
“If we met under more traditional circumstances, I would have asked you out on a date” Jackson admitted, his thumb rolling over his lower lip. The frightening thing is that you would have said yes under different circumstances. “Who knows, maybe after this I still might” Jackson shrugged his shoulders as he slipped down the bed to pull off your skirt and panties. 
Jackson groaned at the sight of your clean cunt, you tried to press your thighs together but he harshly smacked your side. 
“Don’t be a bad girl” he warned, pointing his index finger at you. 
You sobbed as you forced yourself to spread your legs apart, not fully, but enough to be considered a good girl. Turning on the camcorder, Jackson bent down, his hand pushing your thigh to the side to get a clear view of your dripping cunt.  
“Oh baby, is this all because of me?” Jackson whispered, his fingers stroking down your gushing entrance. “I knew you felt the same way as me” he said to himself, but you heard loud and clear. 
Jackson slipped in his index finger, before you could react, a small moan slipped out of your lips. Forcing your mouth shut by biting onto your lower lip, Jackson sighed as he watched the footage record on the small screen. When a second digit went in, your teeth cut into the skin of your lip. Your moans were muffled, hips wiggling underneath him. Then, when a third digit slid in and hit your pressure point, you moaned out loudly, unable to hold it in anymore. 
“There she is” Jackson smirked, pointing the recorder at your face. Hiding your face to the side in shame, Jackson continued to record you, his fingers viciously pumping in and out of you. Your mouth hung open as your moans rung through the room. 
Butterflies in your stomach, hips rocking with the motions of his fingers and chest heaving, you desperately tried to think of anything else to forget about the sensations bolting up your skin. But everything was failing horribly. How could it be so wrong yet feel so fucking good?
“Do you need to orgasm already?” Jackson questioned, feeling your walls clench against his fingers. Your body shivered with disgust and pleasure, you did, you desperately did. 
Jackson’s mouth hung open as he moved up the bed to get a close angle of your face. “Don’t look away” he warned, still pumping his fingers viciously inside of you. “I want to get your climax on camera” he explained. “Everyone should see how fucking good you feel right now” his tone was mumbling now. 
Shortly, Jackson got what he wanted as your walls clenched around his fingers. You screamed out, all on camera as your eyes rolled back and body shook with pleasure. He made sure to get the perfect close up on your display of pure pleasure. 
“Fuck, you’re something else” Jackson’s smile was psychotic. 
As you were recovering from your post orgasmic state, your stomach felt full of anxiety. It was oblivious to you when Jackson unbuckled his belt and pulled out his large size. On his knees next to your head, he stroked himself, Jackson waited for you to notice him and when you finally did, you couldn’t help but to sob at the sight of his size. 
Turning your head to the side, as if it would make this all stop, Jackson laid the head of his cock on your flustered cheek. You mewled as the firm feeling on your skin, Jackson still recording you laughed, “come on baby, don’t be mean” Jackson cooed, tapping his cock on your cheek now. 
His tip slipped into your mouth as soon as you turned your head back. A low groan lingered out of his mouth as he gently started to thrust his cock deeper into your mouth, filling your mouth to the rim. The position of your arms started to ache, Jackson moved himself so he was straddling you, his twitching cock trapped into your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to gag, your arms thrashing around as you struggled to breathe. But Jackson just smiled as he continued to record you. The cries and gags sent vibrations up his length. 
With your legs kicking around, your eyes were completely swelled up with tears, your mascara slowly running down your cheeks. He was going to choke you to death, with his cock. It was surprising how you didn’t have the natural reaction to bite down on his size. Jackson was mumbling words, clenching his jaw as the head of his cock was hitting the back of your throat steadily. 
The taste of his semen was like pure salt, your face scrunched up as you groaned onto his cock. Jackson held his cock in your throat for a moment, just to make sure all of his white sticky goodness slid down your throat.
“Now darling! That’s a fucking mouth” Jackson praised as he pulled his cock out and moved back to the side of you. Moving the camera directly in front of your face, he recorded your beat and sweaty face. 
“Get onto your knees” Jackson sighed, moving back to the end of the bed. 
It was difficult to do, and you were confused with what exactly he meant by on your knees. But he guided you, twisting the mid of your body around so you were on your knees and the tie pulling up your upper body. It wasn’t a comfortable position, to say the least. 
“You like anal?” Jackson asked, his free hand caressing your ass as he looked at your holes through the camera. You sobbed, your body automatically lunging forward to try to get away from him, but he wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you still as you cried. “Baby, baby, baby” Jackson cooled, his hand rubbing your stomach as his cock pressed against your core, whilst he tried to keep the camera still at a good angle. “It’s actually good! You’d be surprised with how hard you’ll come… We’ll be quick! I haven’t done anal in so long and business is fucking shit, but you already know that…” Jackson tried to calm you, attempting to put pity onto himself in the process, but you were still mewling like you had just witnessed a death in the family. Jackson leaned over your back and pressed his cheek to yours. “We’ll make a deal, if I come again before you, then I’ll take you home to your father” Jackson sighed, kissing your heated cheek to help calm you. 
It was pointless, you were going to do anal whether you said yes or no. Shamefully, you nodded your head in which Jackson smiled and grabbed one of the pillows, gesturing for you to bite onto it. His thumb circled over your pristine hole before lining up his cock. Rubbing himself at your entrance, he reminded you to breathe. 
“We’ll go nice and…” Jackson’s words stopped as he pressed his tip in, he breathed out, “slow”. Biting onto the pillow hard, you hissed at the pain, your hips and knees locking otherwise you would have fallen forward.  He didn’t even have the decency to warm you up. 
Jackson gradually deepened his thrusts, having no shame in moaning softly. “That’s my good girl, taking my big cock so fucking well!” Jackson praised, caressing your ass as you just tried to focus on breathing, you could feel yourself painfully clench around his size. “This is such a good fucking angle, I can’t wait to show you” Jackson chuckled, recording your backside. 
As if you would ever want to watch that. The pillow fell from your mouth. “Please stop recording me” you pleaded, jaw shaking from the pain and embarrassment. 
“Why baby?” Jackson pulled a face, still pumping his cock as quickly as your hole would allow him to. 
“I don’t like this” you panted, wincing at the pain shooting up your body, your legs wobbling like jelly. 
“Suppose I have enough footage…” Jackson breathed, putting the camera down onto the side of the bed. Little did you know, the camera was still recording. 
You gasped out as his balls pressed against your pussy, it was painful to feel his cock twitch inside of you. He was about to orgasm again, if you just held out for a little longer you’d be able to get the fuck out of here. However, you didn’t realize how turned on you were, distracted by the pain you were. Your cunt was dripping onto the cheap sheets.
“Fuck, you really want me to come don’t you?” Jackson laughed, feeling your ass clench him for dear life. “I booked for the night, not the hour baby. We have plenty of time” he continued, purposely trying to tease you as he playfully smacked your ass. Surprisingly you yelped at the sensation, your cunt squeezing naturally. “Oh, she likes to be spanked” his words murmured as he spanked you again, a bit more harsh this time, another yelp escaped your lips. 
Continuing to spank you, you were a moaning mess, shaking at the pain and pleasure combined as one. Despite your efforts not to, you came, hard. Jackson wasn’t lying about that, that’s for sure. “I win” Jackson laughed as your moans were music to his ears as you were swearing to yourself, beating yourself up that he had won. Quickly after, Jackson came into your ass, pulling himself out roughly mid orgasm to shoot his ropes of white stickiness all over your backside. 
Jackson let your body drop onto the bed, sighing to himself as he started unbuttoning his shirt. Laying there, completely exhausted from coming twice so quickly (you’d always consider yourself lucky if a guy could make you orgasm) Jackson pulled his undershirt over his head and ensured the recorder was at a good angle. When that was done he crawled next to you. 
“So… Do you like anal now?” Jackson grinned at you, you lowered your sight from his cruel joke, he rolled his eyes. “Come on baby, I need to know how fucking devine that cunt of yours feels” Jackson murmured, laying on his back and pulling you towards him. 
You whined, too weak to even consider fucking him again, but you straddled him anyways, your abused ass pressing against the fabric of his pants, arms hung around both sides of his head. How can he have so much composure? Was he feeling any fatigue? You despised how much stamina this man had. 
Jackson chortled at how easily he slipped inside of your sweet pussy, he thrusted his hips up and you gasped for air, your head falling onto his sweaty, pale chest. Your mouth pressed against his pec as you kept your eyes shut as you moaned continuously, there was no point in keeping your dignity now, Jackson had already broken you. 
“I bet you didn’t know you could get this fucking wet. Your fucking welcome” Jackson spat by your ear, his hands gripping onto your sore ass, as he thrusted up straight to your cervix. He grunted out, burying his cock deep into your canal. 
Jackson gripped onto your throat and forced you to look up to him. You choked out as Jackson’s stare was emotionless, despite his hips rocking in and out of you rapidly. He knew you were going to climax yet again, you were wrapping around him perfectly. 
“I want you to look at me when you climax” Jackson said calmly, his expression dark. 
Your next orgasm rolled over like a massive wave, you cried out, legs shaking like leaves in the wind as you were gasping for air, his hand still wrapped around your throat. Jackson smirked to you, refusing to slow down despite your obstructed pleas. 
With a heavy grunt, Jackson lifted up his upper body as he forced his cock in as deep as possible, his balls pressed against your intimate skin as he came undone. His hold on your throat tightened, in a moment of panic you believed that he was going to strangle to death, you thrashed around, but it was pointless with your hands restrained and his free hand holding your waist close. 
When you started seeing stars, Jackson let go of his grip and you collapsed onto his chest. Jackson sighed. Holding you close as he laid back down on the bed. Humming to himself, Jackson caressed your back as you struggled to find steady breath. 
“Free for dinner next week?” Jackson smiled innocently. 
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