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#every year i creep toward being older than she got to be
diagnosed-idiot · 1 year
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crying after i doing your makeup is hot girl shit
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whimsyfinny · 6 days
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How to Avoid the Love of Your Life
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: (Y/n) had spent the last four years of her life avoiding him, but when her and Dean inevitably cross paths again it could go one of two ways - either really good, or really bad.
Warnings: Language, angst (so much fucking angst I'm sorry), Smut, PinV, Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Overstimulation, Dean being a sex God, reader being anxious, bad breakup, reader having a gun
MDNI! 18+
Word Count: 8200 (wtf I'm sorry I got carried away)
A/N: Here it is! I'm sooooo sorry @jackles010378 that this took so long. I would've had it up last week but my kid got sick and I had to learn how to solo parent hahaha. Anyway, this is the final competition oneshot, and I hope you enjoy it!
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“Well well, what do we have here?”
A voice that I knew all too well reached my ears through the crowd of people in the bar. The deep tone of his voice immediately brought goosebumps to my skin and a small smirk to my lips. I straightened where I stood besides the pool table, lowering the cue and leaning on it lazily as I turned to the direction the voice had come from.
“Dean Winchester,” I let my eyes travel over his rugged form; taking in the faint new scars on his face, his weather-beaten jacket and distinctive choice of plaid and denim. He looked virtually the same as he did when I last saw him four years ago - just older. His eyes now holding more haunting memories than any man should ever have to keep locked away in the depths of ones mind.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with the tilt of my head as he took a step closer, ignoring the bustling of people trying to get past him to order more drinks.
“You know why we’re here,” he pushed his hands into his pockets as he took another step, slowly creeping closer.
“Hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my beer and taking a sip, letting the bitter bubbles sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing them down.
“So, I take it this has nothing to do with coming for that falsely promised personal visit, and all to do with the pack of werewolves that have moved in across town?” I jabbed the beer bottle in his direction, feeling the smile on my face lose its warmth. Dean sighed and looked at his boots, and when he’d pondered on his answer, ready to verbalise it, I cut him off.
“Jody has been doing her fucking best to keep shit safe around here with the skills you taught her. The least you could do is check in a couple of times a week - visit once a month.”
“Listen sweetheart-”
“I don’t need to hear how you saved the world five hundred times this week. I don’t need to hear it second hand from other hunters. I need to hear it from you. She needs to hear that you’re ok. We all do.”
Dean looked up, his eyes meeting mine, clouded by a regretful shadow.
“(Y/n) I’m sorry. Life has been so fucking messed up and sometimes I don’t even know what fucking month it is. I’ll do better. Me and Sam - we’ll be better.”
I stared at him intently, reassuring myself that he wasn’t saying ‘he’d be better’ if he didn’t mean it. He’d fed me empty lies wrapped in colourful silk in the past and I’d unwrapped every one with a hopeful heart, disappointment following every single one of them. People live and they learn, and I was no exception.
“If you’re not better, for Jodys sake - for Claire and Alex and even Donna - then I will never forgive you.” I stared at Dean long enough to feel the frustration towards him start to simmer in my veins, reminding me why I did what I did all those years ago. I was willing to endure him for my family’s sake despite hating that stupid pedestal they’d put him on - hating how in their eyes, he could do no wrong.
If only they could see him through my eyes.
The sound of long-strided footsteps and a familiar voice exclaiming “oh shit” snapped me from my festering thoughts, and I looked up to see Sam walk up and stand next to Dean.
“Sam!” I smiled, his face the picture of apprehension as he nervously smiled back.
“H-hey (Y/n), it’s been a while. I’m surprised to see you.”
I raised an eyebrow and looked around the room incredulously before locking eyes with him again.
“Surprised to see me? Drinking in a bar, in my hometown? Where you guys know that I live? I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it.”
Sam shifted nervously, like he wanted to whisper something to his brother or simply whisk him away to a booth where they could sip beers, work a case and ogle waitresses. I sighed out a mentally exhausted breath - the presence of the Winchesters flooding my mind with memories of a better time - a simpler time. Dean was right about one thing - that life was messed up.
“Look, I’m clearly keeping you boys from your secret club meeting. I promise to behave if you do too,” I eyed them, waiting for them to accept the proposal of peace. Sam nodded, offering a few lacklustre words of poor convincing whilst Dean just stared at me, his lips twitching into a slight smirk, his eyes swimming in defiance.
“You’ve never been one to behave yourself, have you? Let's see how long this lasts.”
“Fuck you, Dean.”
Sam pulled Dean away before any more weaponised words could be fired, Deans lips forever holding that slap-worthy grin as he eventually turned his back and headed to the other side of the bar.
For the whole evening I could feel eyes on my back and a prickle on my skin. No matter what I did or how much I tried to distract myself - I was so hyper-aware that the Winchesters were sitting at a table just across the room. Every time I turned my back or walked to the bar, I could feel myself scrutinised under an unwanted observation. As I politely turned down the offer of a drink from a handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I reached to answer it, my palms growing sweaty when I saw the name flash on the screen.
“Hey Jody,” I fought to keep my voice steady, my previous frustrations starting to bubble to the surface again.
“Hey (Y/n)! You’re never going to guess who’s in town!”
My teeth immediately clenched and I shot a glare over to where the brothers were sitting, watching Dean tuck his phone back into his pocket and drop his head into his hands.
When I failed to utter a single word at Jody’s excited proclamation, she instantly caught on.
“Oh shit, you know already, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You at the bar?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“I feel like I spoke at him, which counts I guess.”
Despite knowing my inner conflictions, she chuckled slightly.
“You give him a piece of your mind?”
“Yup,” I sighed, running a hand over my face, “I think I’m going to have to keep my distance from him, Jody. Just seeing him - looking at him after all these years - it hurts. It fucking hurts and he doesn’t realise how much he messed me up with everything that he did and said,” I could feel that all too familiar burn in my eyes as I fought desperately against the tears; biting my lip to stop it from trembling. When I gave my emotions away with a not-so-discrete sniff, Jody’s more sympathetic side emerged.
“Aw sweet girl, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to come and get you?”
I shook my head despite knowing she couldn’t see me and wiped away a rogue tear.
“No it’s ok, I think I just need to be alone. Plus I know you - you want to spend some time and catch up with them, which is fine and I get it. It’s just not something I can be there for right now,” I lifted my head and looked through the crowd of people, watching how Sam talked to Dean and Dean fiddled with his beer bottle again. I looked down before he could see me, though I knew he would be able to pick me out of any crowd anywhere within a matter of minutes. I hated that he knew me so well.
“If you’re sure, you know where we are if you need anything.”
“I know, thanks Jody. And… I’m sorry for making this so complicated for you. I know you have no reason to hate him, and I don’t like putting you in the middle like this.”
“(Y/n) I get it sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for. Just…” she paused, as though debating if her words were worth saying.
“Just what?”
“Just don't do anything stupid,” I could hear the slight amusement in her voice despite her words of caution. I chuckled slightly, wiping away another tear.
“You know me - I can’t make that promise. Bye Jody, see you later.”
After the farewell I hung up the phone, deciding some fresh air would help me to cool my head.
I'd barely taken five steps out the bars entrance and into the parking lot when the harsh sound of rowdy chatter drew my attention. Snapping my head towards it, cold blood filled my veins at the sight in the shadows - the gut wrenching sight of a small group of men huddling together and attempting to steal a car.
To steal Baby.
The cold sensation of dread quickly transformed into the heat of fury as my blood started to boil at the sheer audacity of the thieving group, now doing their best to stay out of the glow of the street lamp. They were lucky it was me that had found them and not Dean, as the latter would have dropped every single one of them by now and not left a soul breathing. I know Dean and I no longer had any sort of relationship, but when we did, this car had been witness to every moment. Baby saw every smile, laugh, and happy tear shared between Dean and I, along with petty lovers quarrels and raw moments of lust filled passion. I'd lost count of how many times we'd steamed up those back windows since we were teenagers and Dean stole the car from his old man for our first date. Then there were the long rides from case to case - Sam and I arguing over who rode shotgun - with Metallica blasting from the speakers, windows rolled down and the wind wisping every worry away as we belted our lungs out. Those were the best moments of my life. In that car. And I'd be damned if I let some dive bar fuckheads steal her.
With zero hesitation I pulled out the gun tucked into my boot and fired three warning shots to the sky before aiming my piece at them, wary that they might also be packing.
“Get away from the FUCKING car - NOW!”
The anger in my voice was a deadly warning as the group turned to me like rabbits in the headlights before turning tail and bolting - one of them dropping a hefty crowbar in the process. As I lowered my gun when they fled, I turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps thumping on the gravel behind me.
“What the hell is going on?” Dean had arrived at my side before Sam and he reached to rest a hand on the small of my back; guided by muscle memory. I turned to face him, a small crowd gathering outside the bar to witness the fleeting commotion. As Sam arrived I explained, my voice harbouring a slight tremble of adrenaline and frustration.
“Some assholes tried to steal Baby-”
“WHAT?!” Deans voice filled with horror, yet his hand remained on my back.
“But you- you're ok right? They didn't hurt you?”
“What? No, I'm fine.”
With my confirmation he withdrew his hand and doubled over, resting his palms on his knees and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Ugh thank fuck - you scared the shit out of me.”
Sam, who appeared shortly after Dean, patted him on the back and flashed me a split-second grin, the glint lingering in his eyes.
“Yeah, I don't think I've seen Dean move so fast - like… ever.”
I couldn't stop the soft, airy laugh leaving my lungs, a memory flooding my mind.
“I think the fastest I ever saw him move was when we used to hunt with your dad, and Dean took the car without permission. John ended up stranded at that god-awful motel for six hours after we accidentally fell asleep in the layby-”
“Oh god, was that the motel with those raccoons?” Dean stood up straight, the memory seeming to light up his face as he looked me straight in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.
“Yes - oh my GOD those raccoons were awful,” I started to chuckle and I could tell Dean was holding it in.
“Raccoons?” Sam asked, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. I opened my mouth to explain but Dean beat me to it.
“In every corner of each room there was a taxidermy raccoon, however the person who taxidermied them obviously had no idea what an actual raccoon looked like.”
“Most of them had eyes that were too close together and their bodies were way too long - like some sort of ferret-raccoon hybrid,” I chimed in, the memory bringing warmth to my chest at the comical idiocy of it all.
“I remember dad turned his so they faced the wall and away from the bed,” Dean let out a small laugh, managing to pull one from Sam as well as we slowly made our way over to the car, my gun returned to the holster in my boot.
“I'm pretty sure that was the first and last thing that ever gave John Winchester genuine heebie jeebies,” I looked up at Sam's disbelieving expression.
“And your brother hid his in the bottom of the closet.”
Dean grimaced before chuckling again.
“They had tiny little ferret-raccoon buttcheeks.”
“Oh god yeah, they were so prominent.”
“So prominent.”
Stepping up to Baby, Dean gave her a thorough once over, running his large hands gently over the places most likely to have laid victim to the crowbar. After three laps and continuous scrutiny, he deemed her unharmed.
We stood together for a moment in silence, the conversation having bled out, leaving nothing but our prior heavy tension and my own dwelling sorrow. I looked up at them both, my gaze lingering on Dean.
“Look, I need to go. I can't- I can't be around you right now, Dean. I'm glad Baby is ok and I…” I sucked in a breath, steadying my voice, “I wish you all the best. Both of you. Stay safe out there.” with my final words I spun on my heel and left.
The motel room was pitch black save for the small box TV flickering in the corner, the original Ghostbusters playing through blown out speakers. I sat in the middle of the couch rocking baggy plaid pj pants and an old band t-shirt (likely Deans, much to my own dismay). With criss-crossed legs and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, I attempted to wallow, Rory Gilmore style, over a man who I would never fully get over. Mine and Deans relationship had ended years ago, yet here I was, the wound still as fresh as the day it was inflicted. Most days I get by, and sometimes even forget the pain he caused me, allowing me to feel light and almost normal. But seeing him in the flesh, catching the scent of him and hearing his voice had turned my defences to ash. I felt exposed and raw, my heart practically on a silver platter ready for another round of being ripped to pieces. I thought I would be able to handle it if I ran into him. I knew deep down in my gut that it would happen eventually, that it was unavoidable given my living arrangements. That he would likely come and visit Jody and the others, and I would have to pretend that everything was ok - that my heart wasn't still breaking over him. I'd avoided him for this long, always able to find the perfect excuse to not be around when he showed up. It was about time the avoidance streak ran it out.
The sound of his laugh earlier this evening had tightened every muscle in my chest, reminding me of every blissful moment we'd spent together - obsessed with each others company and craving nothing else on this fucked up Earth. His smile had made me want to weep, knowing I no longer got to wake up to it every morning or let it be the last thing I witnessed before sleep. The smile that got us both into so much trouble, both as teenagers and adults alike. The smile that always made arguments feel absurd half way through. No matter who I encounter in life or how many people God throws at me in an attempt to fill the void left behind by Dean, it's an incurable hole in my soul that can never be healed.
I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth as I watched the movie unfold - desperate for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to reach through the screen and devour me along with my melancholy attitude. Too preoccupied with the film and the strange attraction I seemed to be harbouring to men in boiler suits, I almost missed the low rumble of an engine pull into the motel parking lot outside my room. An all too familiar engine. My ears pricked before reality dawned, the blood draining from my face.
“That son of a bitch.”
I scrambled off the couch and ducked behind it, popcorn flying, knowing all too well that he'd come peering in through the gaps in the blind - which my dumbass had left open so I could watch the rain. Heavy rain and self pity went together like jack and coke after all.
There were a few breaths of silence after the squeak and slam of the impala door, and I thought maybe I'd gotten away with it. Perhaps he was staying in a room further down? Fate was forever against me though when there was a loud knock on the door. I flinched, anxiety dampening my palms as I tucked my knees into my chest and held my breath, praying to Chuck himself that Dean would leave. That he'd convince himself that he was making a reckless decision by being here, or that he had the wrong room. I almost jumped out of my skin when he rapped on the window and his voice boomed through the pattering of rain and static-y TV audio.
“I know you're in there (Y/n), now open the door.”
Even if I'd wanted to move, the ability to do so had fled my body, my muscles petrified at the thought of confronting him. I jumped again when he hammered on the door this time, the cheap wood rattling on its hinges.
“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)! Your truck is parked outside and I can see your hunting gear on the table. Open the fucking door!”
“Go away!”
“Not until you let me speak to you!”
“No!”
There was a loud THUD as his boot collided with the door and I heard him growl in frustration. I could just picture him pacing in a circle, running a hand through his hair.
“(Y/n)-”
“Please, Dean, just… just don't. I can't look at you.” I felt my voice shrink as I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, unsure if he caught my words. He did.
“What- why not?” His voice was a wretched mix of desperation and confusion, cracking between words.
I was quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang thick in the air before I pushed myself to my feet, instantly missing the comfort of the upright foetal position. I wandered over to the door, my fuzzy-socked feet padding on the thread-bare carpet.
“Because,” I leant against the wood, my heart aching at the thought of him being so close yet so devastatingly untouchable, “if I open this door I'm going to undo all the progress I've made with getting over you, Dean.” His name was bittersweet as it slid off my tongue. The quiet sound of Dean sucking in a breath hissed through the gaps in the wood.
“Please, sweetheart. I need you to open this door.”
The softer tone of his voice made him infinitely harder to resist, but I had to stand my ground.
“Dean, you know I can't,” my eyes burned as the tears started to well, my voice objecting to my words with a pitiful rasp.
“Yes you can,” he paused, “you have to, otherwise I'm going to kick this piece of shit down.”
My eyes flew wide.
“No-no Dean-”
“Stand back.”
“Don't!”
“Three…”
“Stop-”
��Two…”
“Dean-”
“One-”
“Fine!”
I grasped the handle and flung the door open, my heart dancing with my stomach when I finally caught sight of him. There he was, soaked through from the rain and giving me that woeful Mr Darcy stare. The water droplets clung to his lashes and trickled down his cheeks, the breathtaking beauty of him erasing the pre-prepared sentence from my mind. Now, all I could think at that moment was to get him warm and dry. The noose around my heart tightened when I reached a hand out to grasp his, pulling him in out of the downpour. As the door closed behind him there was a pause, my quickly dissolving self restraint making it agonising to be in his presence. And Dean seemed to know that, yet he remained.
“(Y/n)-”
“Don’t,” as the cold water started to pool around his boots, I paced over to the bathroom, quickly emerging with a fuzzy towel in hand. I passed it over to him slowly, treating him like a wild, unpredictable animal that could pounce at any moment. He took it gently from my grasp, his fingers softly brushing mine. His skin was cold and damp from the outdoors. We stood in silence for a few moments whilst Dean dried his hair as best as he could, shortly after shrugging off his jacket to hang on the dining chair beside him. As he continued to ruffle his hair dry, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Why are you here, Dean? What do you want?”
He lowered the towel and hung it with his jacket, sighing from the pit of his stomach.
“Me and Sam went to see Jody and the others. I was hoping to run into you again - I wanted to talk to you. But when you didn’t appear, Jody said you’d checked out for a few nights - said you wanted to be away from the house when… uh…” his voice faltered and something akin to guilt flashed in his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence he leant on the table, staring intently at the pile of hunting gear I'd dumped there.
“When you arrived,” I finished it for him, “Yeah, that’s right. And I told  her not to tell you where I was.”
“She didn’t,” he stood up straight again, holding his hands up, “I knew you wouldn’t have gone far, so I drove around until I spotted your truck,” he admitted, gaze flitting down to the floor. More silence followed, the atmosphere thickening as the seconds ticked by.
“Dean,” my voice was small as my anxiety spiked again, the question ready to spill from my mouth though no matter what he said, I knew I wasn’t ready for the answer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me? You say you want to talk, but you’re the one who ended everything. You ended our decades-long relationship out of fucking nowhere. What could there possibly be to talk about anymore. It’s been four years.” My voice trembled and he clenched his teeth, looking away from me before setting his eyes back to the floor. He dragged his gaze back up to mine, and something burned deep in those evergreen irises that took my breath away. Yet he remained silent.
“You crushed me when out of nowhere you said we were over - that we had no future. That you couldn't imagine growing old with me, like we'd always talked about. You have no idea how much you broke my fucking heart, and then you just expected me to live alongside you in the bunker like nothing was wrong? In my own room, far away from you? Why did you think that I would be ok with that?” I felt the familiar drip of hot tears and they flooded down my cheeks and rolled off my chin, the dam I’d fought so hard to contain now bursting wide with vengeance.
“You think I wanted you to leave?” Dean spoke up finally, his voice deep and gravelly, like it always was when he was upset. “You don’t think that telling you that everything was over wasn’t the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do? That I was happy watching you pack your bags and walk out without so much as a goodbye?”
“You didn’t love me, Dean, so why would you have cared? You obviously didn’t love me the way that I loved you.”
He flinched, but took a step closer. 
“You think this is because I stopped loving you? (Y/n)... it wasn’t safe- you weren’t safe in the bunker. You weren’t safe with me…” his expression turned to one of pain as his brows pinched and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath. “I thought maybe if you just stayed in the bunker with little to no association with me, then it would be ok. I mean, I'd still get to see you, talk to you. Be in your fucking presence. I never expected you to- to…” he took another deep breath, his lungs almost stuttering. “I didn’t think you would leave.”
He never took his eyes off mine. I saw the years of hurt and heartbreak intertwine with glimmers of green and gold, the emotions I always knew he’d struggled to cope with were swimming in a pool of desperation and fear. On the outside, Dean Winchester was the strongest there was. He was an undefeated and undisputed leader of men. He was the King of hunters. The Alpha. The man who could make you wish you were dead. Yet here he was, wearing every vulnerable emotion on his sleeve as he stood before me with anxious breaths and fearful eyes. The sight made my heart break all over again.
“Dean,” his name was like a quiet prayer as he moved closer again, “I don’t think you understand…”
“Understand what, sweetheart?” the rasp in his voice pebbled goosebumps on my skin, and when he reached for a lock of my hair to twirl around his finger, I had to fight off every instinct to just throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent floated through the air and wrapped itself around my senses, and when I breathed him in the aroma of old leather and gunpowder went straight to my brain like a hit of cocaine. The pleasant hum from my chest was involuntary. 
“I don’t think you understand that… that…” I sighed a woeful breath, looking up at him and seeing nothing but a warm, expectant gaze.
“That I’m still in love with you.”
The finger Dean had looped around my hair froze in place and I heard him suck in a breath, his lips parting. He remained unmoving, as though every thought racing through his mind had taken precedence over his body. It was a moment before he blinked, coming back down to Earth. When he looked down at me, all of the desperation, hurt and heartbreak dissipated from his eyes and in their place was the blazing heat of hope, accentuated by a small upturned twitch of his lips.
“You do?” 
“Yes.”
“You’re not fucking with me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Before I could react Dean had scooped me into his arms and crashed his mouth onto mine. The urge to push him away and tell him to get the fuck out bubbled up inside me, however when his familiar taste graced my tongue, a taste that was home, every desire for him to leave evaporated. The years of being apart, of being unable to touch him had made every caress electric, no matter how feather-light. My hands had tangled in his shirt as he pressed his mouth harder onto mine, pulling him crushingly close. His embrace was almost suffocating before he gently slid his hands up and threaded his rough fingers through my hair, and I lifted my own hands to do the same. I took my time with the motion, reminding myself of what he felt like - not that the memory of him ever truly left. I remembered how the muscles across his stomach and chest felt hard beneath a soft layer of skin. I remembered the way they quivered at my touch, and how my touch always pulled soft moans from his lips. My hands crept up to take hold of his face, the familiar feeling of his rough stubble beneath my fingertips ever present, a reminder of how that rough stubble felt when it tauntingly brushed against other parts of my body. I cupped his cheeks, feeling my own tears dampen his skin. He kissed me in a way that said I’m sorry, a kiss that held four years of pent up emotions with a desire to be released. A kiss that I knew was designed specifically for me. Our breaths and lips became frantic, the pace in which we were now devouring each other was still not enough to soothe the wounds in our hearts that were so desperate to be healed. Dean pulled away and held my face in his hands, running his rough thumbs over the soft skin under my eyes to wipe away the tears.
“I miss you, so fucking much,” his voice was low, his words for my ears only - not that anyone else was listening.
“I miss you too,” I sniffled, resting my palms on his chest again and relishing in the heat seeping through his shirt.
He leant down and rested his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. The atmosphere shifted however when he dipped down lower and pressed a hot kiss to my cheek, then to my ear, and then to my neck - each press of his lips drawing a shiver from my spine. I gasped when he nibbled my pulse point gently and my hands flew to grasp the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, my nails dragging over his scalp. He groaned against me at the sensation, one large hand moving to grip my hair at its roots whilst the other slid to my hip - squeezing the soft flesh. A moan of his name slipped past my lips and it was like a switch was flipped as he pulled away suddenly. He turned to take a few steps across the room, attempting to put some distance between us. I stood, baffled for a moment, but when he turned back to me and his vibrant eyes were now black with lust, I almost knew what he was going to say.
“Do you really want to go there sweetheart? Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” he started making slow strides back towards me and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. 
“Yes,” my voice was more breathy than I’d anticipated.
“No regrets?” he was almost within reach again.
“No regrets.”
When his hands landed on my waist again, his frenzied kisses on my lips, I was expecting to be able to ravage him equally; but when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing I let out a shocked yelp. 
“Dean!”
He chuckled, the sound low in his chest as he strode over to the bed and threw me down, the impact on the mattress knocking a breath out of me.
“I’ve not been able to fuck you sensless for four years, there ain’t no way I’m going easy on you tonight sweetheart.” I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he tore his top from his body. I barely got a glimpse of his rugged physique that I’d so terribly missed before he all but pounced, trapping me beneath him. My hands immediately clung to the tight muscles of his back, my nails digging in and drawing a hiss from his clenched teeth before his mouth pressed to my neck right below my ear.
“Do you remember how you used to scream my name?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to make you scream much, much, louder than you ever have before. I’m going to make all past encounters feel like a warm up compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.” I shivered at his words as his hot breath fanned over my skin. His hands were fast, desperately tugging on my pyjama pants to slip one inside the soft fabric, not bothering to remove them entirely. There was an urgency to his movements like nothing I’d ever seen, the air leaving my lungs on a gasping moan when his fingers grazed my underwear. He chuckled slightly, pressing a series of searing kisses down my neck to my collar bone. 
“Well, aren't you sensitive? How long has it been, darlin’? Since someone else touched you - since someone else made you cum?” The heat rose to my already flushing cheeks at his words and I tried to cover my face with the back of my hand. My attempts to hide were futile as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pinned my arm above my head. 
“Well?” he pressed, a smirk on his lips.
“Four years,” I all but squeaked. He thought for a moment before his smirk evolved into a widespread grin. “Don't let it go to your head, Winchester,” I did my best to bite out my words yet my voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. My head rolled into the quilt and my back arched when he pushed his finger against my clit through my underwear a second time, this time harder, more purposeful. His own breath was shuddering as he continued to plant hot kisses against my skin, the slight dampness from his lips cooling quickly when he pulled back to sit on his knees. My heart didn't know if it wanted to stop dead in my chest or palpitate itself into oblivion when he looked down at me. Dean eminated a dark, primal hunger, glazing his eyes with lust as he gnawed his bottom lip. There wasn't a part of me that he hadn't seen before, and despite my current lack of nakedness it was as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. He made a noise in his chest that seemed to roll up his throat, like a growl of approval as I lay like prey beneath him. Dean may be older now, but he was bigger. Broader. Larger. The years of saving the world and fighting every abomination in his path had forced him to bulk up most exquisitely. With my free hand I traced over the scars adorning his shoulders, chest and abdomen: some old and silver, some newer and pink. There were even a fresh few, still scabbed over, and he shivered at every gentle touch. His gaze, however, was unrelenting. Without uttering a word he yanked my pyjama bottoms from my legs and tossed them into the depths of the room, immediately doing the same with my underwear. Instinctively I attempted to pull my knees together despite him being planted between them and he laughed softly, dragging his dark eyes over my slightly squirming body. He clutched my hand that was touching his chest and pinned it with my other one above my head, leaning down to lift the hem of my t-shirt, to gather above my breasts with his teeth. A shiver tore through me as his hot breath dusted the soft skin of my stomach and ribs, perking my nipples instantly.
“I think your body missed me sweetheart.”
“Definitely not just my body,” I panted. He breathed over my lips for a moment, every possibility of tonight's endeavours flashing before his eyes before he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth moved slightly slower this time, like he was desperately trying to control the beast inside and make every moment count. To make every moment memorable.
“Do you remember Oasis Plains, Oklahoma? With that fancy house we borrowed?” His voice dropped an octave, eyes hooded as he recalled the memory.
“Yes,” I practically clenched, remembering the late night escapades from all those years ago. In my mind it was like yesterday - the way his lips felt on my skin, how his strong fingers bruised my thighs, and how he brought me to total completion no less than three times. His lips twitched up as he slid down my body and off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor. He roughly gripped my thighs and threw them over his shoulders before slowly, tantalisingly sliding his hands up the supple flesh to grasp my ass and pull my whole body towards him.
“I’m gonna make you lose your fucking mind, just like you did back then. Maybe I'll even beat that record.”
My eyes could've disappeared inside my skull with how far they rolled back, his mouth's quick descent over my most intimate area - a soft kiss placed just above my clit - had me gasping in anticipation. Without a second to gather my thoughts he pressed his next kiss to that bundle of nerves; the wet heat of his mouth sending a pulse after pulse of fire through my veins as I twitched at his touch. He was an expert. Every flick of his tongue was practised and calculated, knowing which way to swirl, to caress, and how much pressure to apply. It was only a matter of minutes before my hands plunged into his hair and I grasped desperately at the soft strands, feeling that tidal wave build, and build, and build before he daringly grazed his teeth over my clit and it sent the wave crashing down around me, my body arching off the soft mattress as I came undone in his arms at the mercy of his mouth. 
“F-FUCK- Dean-”
My limbs twitched as they relaxed on the come-down, Deans tongue softly tracing up and down my opening. Without pulling away, he spoke in a husky tone:
“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how many times I've reminisced about you moaning my name like that.”
The breath from his words made me shiver, and I moved to prop myself up on my elbows. 
“Ready for round two?” His voice remained low, not waiting for my inevitable confirmation before slowly dipping a finger into my still-clenching walls. The moan that slipped past my lips pulled a groan from Dean, a second finger joining the first as they curled up to push against the soft cushion hidden in the depths of my core. He knew where to find it with zero hesitation - his fingers seemingly acting on muscle memory as he beckoned another orgasm from me. He coaxed it forward, my inner nerves dangerously sensitive as the pleasure began to pool for a second time. With every motion of his finger, again and again, I started to feel the coil twist. I was in two minds on whether to be mortified by how easily he could pull a climax from my very soul, or impressed by it. Either way, he had me teetering on the edge a second time before a single flick of his tongue snapped the coil and euphoria claimed me once more.
His name merged with the endless moans spilling from my mouth, my hazy brain struggling to differentiate the two.
“Shit, you taste so good baby. I could devour you all night.”
“I wouldn't stop you.”
He grinned.
“As much as I would love to indulge you, I need to fuck you. Now.”
He pushed on the backs of my thighs, urging me to centre myself on the bed before he climbed back over me. I could feel myself salivating at the sight of his broad shoulders flexing under his weight, his skin damp with sweat from being trapped beneath my thighs.
He leant down to capture my mouth again, a kiss fueled with raw, carnal desire as he struggled to hold himself back. He shuddered under my fingertips as I trailed them down his torso to his belt, hastily unfastening the buckle and top button of his jeans. It was a joint effort to push them off his hips and down his thighs, but that's as far as they went. The feral need to be inside me had consumed him, and I'd barely withdrawn my hands from between us when he lined up and buried himself to the hilt. 
The burn and stretch was immediate - knocking the air from my lungs as I clutched his solid biceps like a lifeline, my nails indenting his scarred skin. He had the common decency to stay still for around ten seconds before his self restraint diminished yet again and he withdrew slowly. I could feel the divine ridges on his length through the immense build up of my slick and his spit, and as he eased back in he dropped his head into the crook of my neck with a gasp and a groan. A large, rough palm glided down my thigh, goosebumps in its wake as he grasped beneath my knee to rest my leg on his hip. Another moan filled the air between us at the new angle, the top of his cock kissing the soft, sensitive cushion inside. His mouth was hot on my neck as his hips found a rhythm against mine - a rhythm that gradually increased in speed with the intense pleasure unrelenting on my over-sensitive insides. My next impending climax swiftly appearing on the horizon.
“Dean,” I pleaded, my eyes cracking open to look up at him through welling tears, “I'm getting close again-”
He lifted his head, that play-boy grin finding his lips as he saw the mess I'd become at his touch; the mascara-stained tear tracks smudging on my cheeks and the unruly sex-hair was always a good sign of a good time.
“I need you to let go sweetheart - cum for me. Please…”
His words were the cherry on the cake for my undoing yet again and I felt my whole body explode with pleasure and tense up around him. The third orgasm of the night had my vision blurring when he cursed under his breath at my contracting walls, yet he didn't let up. He fucked me through the mind blowing bliss, not letting me catch my breath as a fourth climax hit me out of nowhere, the torturous attack on my g-spot making me feel close to blacking out.
“F-FUCK- Dean- Please- I can't,” my voice was hoarse from the moans and ragged breaths ripping from my throat every other second and my whole body trembled, slick with sweat from both myself and Dean. Despite the death grip I had on Deans cock, every involuntary clench making my knees twitch, he still wasn't finished. His powerful thrusts stuttered slightly before he pulled out, causing me to suck a breath through my teeth. Before I had a chance to query his actions he flipped me with ease, landing me flat on my stomach, my face buried in the soft quilt. Much like before, he didn't wait for an invitation to push back in, the overstimulated nerves in my core sending a jolt through every aching muscle in my body. The deeper angle pulled a cry from my lips when he bottomed out, and if I didn't know any better I would've said that his cock was in my ribcage. Deans large, warm hands took up residence on the supply flesh around my hips, tugging them up so my ass was in the air.
“Shit, (Y/n), with a view like this I'm not gonna last much longer- fuck,” Deans words were strained as he picked up the pace again, albeit this time there was an urgency to his movements. A desperate desire to experience the same Earth shattering euphoria that he had hand delivered to me. With my face in the fabric I snuck a hand down between my legs, finding the pleasure of circling my clit both a relief and an amplifier for the scorching pleasure Dean was inflicting. It didn't take long for him to tear my hand away, only to replace it with his own - pulling noises from my lips that were a whole new calibre of erotic that I didn't know I was capable of. My moans had an effect on Dean, and the hand that was on my hip, that was kneading my soft skin with a bruising grip had shot forwards and planted beside my head, bracing his weight above me. I couldn't see him but I could feel his solid chest against my back, his head dipping down to place rough kisses against my shoulder, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there. I prepared myself for the bruises I'd find on my body in the morning - his firm hold on me would have been almost painful given any other situation. That's not to forget the biting and sucking he was now subjecting my neck and shoulder blades to - the sensation setting my skin ablaze. Deans strained breaths were a tell for his own impending end, with his hips losing their strong rhythm as he panted out laboriously. The sound of him on the verge of bliss, accompanied by every other agonising ministration performed on my body had me unravelling one last time; one hand fisting the sheets whilst the other reached back, my nails brushing over Deans scalp and toying with his short, soft hair. The fluttering of my channel around his cock was all it took to bring him to his long awaited fervid finish. I trembled beneath him as he groaned into my ear, the sound something primal, something almost unhinged. We remained still for a moment, waiting for the post climax clarity to come along and make us regret our decision. He pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from both of us at the loss of warmth and intimate contact. The simultaneous feeling of emptiness and relief was an odd feeling, as I know full well he’d ruined me for anyone else - no one in Heaven or Hell could compete with that. Not that I wanted them to in the first place. Every nerve ending in my lower region fizzled with overstimulation, yet I couldn't have felt more relaxed; more satiated. For the first time in a very, very, long time, I felt complete. 
Dean grabbed the towel he'd left on the back of the chair and used it to catch the evidence of our intimacy, the wetness cooling quickly on my thighs as I pushed myself to sit on my knees. I turned and looked up at him, watching as he stood beside the bed, eyeing me nervously. I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.
“What's wrong? Regretting the whole ‘No Regrets’ thing already?” 
He shook his head.
“Do you?” His voice held a crackle that equaled his nervous expression.
I shook my head. He looked down at his clothes on the floor.
“No, although I'm getting the impression from you that this was a one time thing,” he must've heard the disappointment when I spoke, his eyes flying up to meet mine.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you're picking your shit off the floor like you're about to leave, that's why.”
“You…want me to stay? I thought-”
“Did I fucking stutter when I said I still love you, Dean? Because I do, and it's all-consuming and to be totally honest, I never want to leave your side again.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks at my sudden proclamation. Deans grip on his clothes slackened, letting it all fall back to the floor. From the look on his face it was like I'd just declared him King of the world; like a light switched on behind his eyes and a smile threatened to spread across his face.
“Yeah?” 
I fiddle with my fingers in my lap, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Yeah-whoa!”
I didn't get the chance to feel bashful or embarrassed when Dean tackled me onto the bed. At first he peppered my still-damp skin with small kisses that tickled with his stubble, before placing his mouth over mine. I couldn't recall a time that he'd kissed me so softly, and accompanied by the gentle embrace of his arms with his fingers carefully threading through my hair, it was enough to bring me to tears.
“I've missed you so much,” my sniffles brought an almost relieved smile to his features as he pulled back and stroked my hair with overwhelming tenderness.
“I've missed you too, sweetheart.
So fucking much.”
----------------------------
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losing-it-lately · 4 months
Note
Hey love! Idk how you feel about this idea but what about it is Remus birthday/Christmas (I just need an excuse for a gift) and he hasn't told the reader that he is a werewolf but she figured it out on her own and gifted him wolfsbane that she made herself just for him. I picture lots of fluff and cutesy feelings and Remus just confesses his love (I imagined they are just friends at that point) and he is very emotional.
Feel free to change, adapt or not write it at all! Thank you so much ❤️‍🩹
Remus' Birthday
wc: 1k
remus lupin x reader angst with a happy ending
i actually wished for another request as you sent this in which is why i wrote it so quick 😭
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This week was going horrendously with assignments all over the place and one of James’ pranks malfunctioning and the grating feeling of the moon inching towards a full beam in the sky; all of that and the week ended in Remus’ least favourite day of the year, his birthday.
It had been like that since he was young. The first birthday after his new affliction was scarring to say the least and every birthday from before it was promptly erased from his memory after Remus heard that revisiting a memory would lead to misremembering it; those birthdays with his mother were only now saved for the night of his birthday, a way to relive a happier time with her in the quiet darkness of his bed.
Birthdays felt lonely- everyone else celebrated getting taller and older and more interesting, but for Remus it felt like a constant reminder that he was leaving something he never got the chance to experience, his youth. he had scars and pains that no one understood and he felt like birthdays were only for people who deserved another year of living, but with all the pain he brought to those he loved, he didn't know if he deserved that year.
The week had been full of stress and Remus wallowing in his own melancholy. It made it worse that you hadn't been anywhere near him for the past few weeks. His worst fears creeping into the cracks of his mind, that maybe you knew, or worse maybe you didn't, but had just gotten tired of the person he was.
Remus tried to push all of these thoughts out, you would hate knowing he was thinking of you like this, but his thoughts were haywire with the moon being full. Whilst the wolfsbane stopped him from turning, it didn't prevent the ghost pain or the mental pain. The other boys had all left the dorm, giving Remus his time to grieve the night before his birthday and instead sleeping with girlfriends or friends in other rooms. He had told them he needed to be alone.
Lying, shirtless with some ratty pajama bottoms and staring at the ceiling. His eyes were encrusted with small tears that threatened to fall at any moment; his mother's face becoming bleary in his memory- how many more times would he be able to imagine it without changing the memory, surely it was running out. He forced his eyes open, the cold breeze of the night hitting him and bringing chills all over his body, the only distraction offered was a single meek knock on the door.
“I need to speak to Remus,” your voice bles through every crevice of the room; maybe this could be his new memory. He stood up from the bed and crossed the room til his hand rested on the door knob.
I ’ll only open it if she asks one more time. I want her to want to come in... And as he finished that thought, your voice pleaded with him again, “please, I need to speak with him.”
The door swung open. Even with all his height, Remus looked small, and you couldn't handle it, a frown crumpling your face. His eyebrows scrunched up seeing your reaction. It felt wrong watching your eyes sadden noticing Remus’ wet cheeks and red nose. You reached up and wiped his cheeks, it wasn't enough for you, but the softness was more than enough for him- this was definitely his new memory, he decided then to save his mother for other days.
Your eyes began to well up and he wrapped his arms around you. “‘M sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry,” he whispered into your ear, softly as if he was scared you would disappear from his arms like a mirage.
“Don’t apologise, I’m here for you.” You tried to laugh but it came out wet and stunted. “I wanted to talk to you.”
He stepped back and suddenly you missed his warmth, but at least he hadn't let go. With his hand wrapped around your arm, you both walked inside into the dark dorm room. He light a small candle and let it flicker on the windowsill before sitting next to you on his bed. Of course you had guessed his bed, it had smelt like firewood and old books and Remus between the layered scents of detergent and dryer sheets.
“Happy birthday,” you offered quietly, with a small smile gracing your face. Suddenly, Remus’ week wasn't so bad. So caught up on your hope and kindness, he hadn't even registered the wrapped gift until you shoved it in his hands. It was messy and slightly crushed but still, the wrapping had your love written all over it. He delicately began to peel back tape and paper until all was left was a large stack of chocolate and a vial of daisy yellow liquid. It smelled like patience. something that surely took hours of sleepless nights to make.
“It's for pain relief. So you can have a painless birthday.” His eyes met yours again. How could you even possibly know that he needed this now, that he needed you now. He hadn't even noticed the night had crossed into the early hours of his birthday and here you were, on his bed with a soft smile and a softer twinkle in your eyes.
Before he could even think about it, it fell out of his mouth, “I love you.” His mouth hung open and his cheeks flushed.
“I love you too, Remus,” you repeated back in a way that would have forced his knees into buckling if he wasn't already sitting. You looked back at him one more time. “Do you want me to stay so you don't spend your birthday alone,” you asked as Remus tried the potion you had worked for weeks on. He paused as he felt every ache dissipate from his body, his pain melting away from him.
He threw a gentle smile your way and whispered back one final “of course,” before he began setting up his bed for the both of you to lie in and talk, and hopefully, eventually fall asleep together with. Maybe birthdays weren't as isolating as he had once known.
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154 notes · View notes
joshfutturman · 6 months
Text
'birthday wishes’
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oneshot (request) - you and abby throw a surprise birthday party for mike! (2.1k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddys) + gn reader tags: pure fluff, you and abby put up decorations together, you’ve been her babysitter for a year, there’s lingering feelings between you and mike that neither of you have talked about.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
✰ mike was never a fan of his birthdays, abby had told you. they sort of came and went every year with little fuss. you never brought it up to mike, knowing it was a sore spot for him. being abby’s babysitter, it was rare you and mike had a chance to talk anyway. he’d often come home, nod hello to you and you’d leave. a few rare times he’d sit on the same sofa as you instead of his usual armchair and smile at little things on the tv. you spent more time looking at him than the tv.
✰ but his birthday was coming up and you wanted to do something nice for him, as did abby. it had been a whole year since you’d began babysitting her, you guys were best friends - it was time for a team up attack.
✰ that night, you and abby got to planning. sitting on her bedroom floor, surrounded by crayons and different drawing stationary. she drew little pictures of different decorations, ideas for banners, balloons, the whole works. you smile on as you watch her, happy at how much she had warmed up to you over the year. but she notices you watching, arching an eyebrow and pushing some paper and crayons towards you. your turn.
✰ oops, it was well past abby’s bedtime by the time you both finished. gathering the papers with your master plans on them, you neatly place them in a drawer within her desk before tucking her into bed. you thank each other for the fun, and you disappear down the hall to the couch, your bed for the night. curling up, your eyes are quickly closing as you try to focus, and fail, on the tv. before you know it, your eyes are closed.
✰ mike comes home, but you don’t shuffle in your sleep and wake up like you normally do. he takes a few steps towards the couch, peeking over at you to find you still asleep. mike smiles, admiring you for a few seconds until he feels like a creep and retreats away to his bedroom. a few seconds later he returns with a blanket, placing it over you.
✰ you wake up a few hours later, embarrassed you’d slept in so much. mike actually cooks you some breakfast, you leave with a smile and butterflies. and he won’t admit it, but mike was glad you stayed for as long as you did.
✰ the next night - its go time. you brought home all the decorations you had both planned for mikes big day tomorrow, keeping them hidden in your car until mike left for work as well as some secret ice cream for you and abby. abby excitedly runs around with some of the balloons, giggling and debating keeping them for herself until you pull out the ice cream.
✰ “i think mike is gonna love this,” she says with the wisdom of someone much older than ten, nodding with the spoon still in her mouth. “you think?” you smile, glad to have abby’s stamp of approval. abby looks at you like you’re crazy for asking, “of course!”
✰ after ice cream, it’s time to finish the decorations. abby helps hold your chair steady as you stand on it, pinning up the blue bunting around the living room, attaching some balloons at the end. but there’s still more balloons to blow up, and it takes a while for you both to finish them - red in the face from all the hard work.
✰ you both stand in the middle of the room, hands on your hips, admiring the decorations and how you’ve both transformed the place. it truly looked like the party of the century was about to go down here. abby looks up at you with a great big smile, one that makes your heart melt.
✰ the cake is set on the table, a cute little round white one with blue icing and some blue candles. as you inspect it, you suddenly feel a little nervous. what if mike didn’t react the way you thought? what if he got angry? an image of him flickers in your mind, jaw clenching with that usual look of frustration in his face.
✰ abby gasps as she sees the cake and peers over the table at it with a wide grin, “it looks just like the cake he got me a few years ago for my birthday. . . he’s gonna LOVE it!” - and that puts your worries at ease slightly.
✰ you both wrap up on the sofa, ready to get a nap before he gets home at half six in the morning. there’s a movie on the tv you both enjoy, but abby is out for the count before long. once you know she’s asleep, you begin to relax too, drifting off.
✰ beep. beep. beep. in a groggy state you open your eyes and yawn to find your phone beeping on the coffee table. six twenty-five am, your phone reads. abby is up too, way too chipper for this time in the morning as she springs out of the blanket and begins putting the finishing touches on the decorations. she’s giggling all the while, running into her bedroom to get the picture she drew him for his birthday.
✰ she’d kept the picture a surprise from even you, but you knew it would be amazing - abby was definitely going to be a famous artist one day. with that talent, how could she not?
✰ you’re nervous as you place the small gift you got mike on the table beside his cake. it’s neatly wrapped in gold paper, a dream journal. he’d mentioned in passing about his interest in dreams, it was only once but you remembered. maybe he could use something like this? or maybe he would think it was silly. . .
✰ the sound of the car pulling up outside pulls you from your thoughts and you turn towards the window, seeing mike’s old beat up ride pulling into the driveway. “abby!” you call out, “mike’s home!”
✰ she runs through at the speed of light, stopping at the table as she holds the picture she drew tight to her chest. she’s bouncing a little as she stands, face absolutely beaming. you smile as you stand behind her, feeling yourself chuckle - her energy was so infectious.
✰ hearing mike slowly begin to open the door, abby lets out a small giggle. you watch on as you see him enter.
✰ mikes eyes are on the ground like they normally are when he comes in, not noticing much of anything. but after a few seconds, something catches his eye in his peripheral, something blue. his eyes dart up, noticing the decorations as he absentmindedly closes the door behind him, too preoccupied with scanning the room. he doesn’t even notice the two of you there, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. was this for him?
✰ “happy birthday!!!” abby yells, pulling him out of his daze and he looks over at the two of you. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him smile like this. it’s soft and gentle and. . . genuine, sort of like how he smiles at the tv but this time it’s on you and it feels different.
✰ “happy birthday, mike!” you yell after abby, a little quieter.
✰ mike’s not sure what to say, shrugging off his backpack and leaving it by the door. he walks over to hang his jacket up, still looking around at all the cute decorations. “you guys did this for me?” he asks as he makes his way back over to the two of you. his eyes find the cake and his face softens even more.
✰ the only reminder he had of his birthday each year was the picture abby drew him, he kept them in his bedside drawer and looked at them on particularly hard days. he’d forgotten his birthday was coming up at all, choosing to let himself forget it. each year it had been a reminder that he was no closer to finding garrett - this year was different.
✰ “we wanted to surprise you!” abby admits, jumping towards him and giving him a small cuddle, he pats her back and glances at you with a shy expression. you’re caught a little off guard by this. what was that?
✰ “you did huh.” mike says, pulling back from abby and smiling at her.
✰ she holds up her picture to him, “surprise!” mike’s face shifts, eyes widening slightly as he takes in the drawing. he accepts it and holds it to look at it properly.
✰ abby glances back at you, and then to him with a sly grin.
✰ “this is. . . really good abby, really cute.” he mumbles and though his smile is shy, it’s also sweet, the same smile he only offered in private.
✰ “can i see? she kept it a secret from me too, but i wanna witness this masterpiece.” you smirk at abby and step over towards mike, standing beside him.
✰ the picture - your eyes widen too. abby had drawn the three of you all together, abby was beside mike holding his hand, you were on the other end of mike, holding his hand. there’s little birds flying around you, a cute little sun in the corner and everyone has big smiles. there’s a little love heart above you and mikes connected hands.
✰ “that’s. . . a really sweet picture abby,” you nod, feeling your cheeks run a little red. mike’s cheeks do the same and abby watches on in complete glee.
✰ “think its my favourite.” mike admits, half joking, half serious. he looks to you for your reaction and you look back at him with a laugh, nudging him with your shoulder.
✰ “i got you something too, just a small thing,” you say, sneaking towards the table and grabbing your little gift, “doesn’t compare to the masterpiece though.” mike sighs softly, “you really shouldn’t have. . .” “well, i wanted to.” you admit with a smile, handing him the present.
✰ mike reluctantly takes it, unwrapping it and holding the dream journal in his hands. he blinks. you remembered. he mentioned in passing being interested in this kind of stuff, maybe seven months ago. he remembers that specific night because you were half asleep. your head kept drooping and mike found it so adorable. again, a smile overtakes his face without him knowing.
✰ “thanks,” is all he says at first, opening it to trace his fingers across the pages, “really, thanks.” his eyes find yours and you can tell he means it. “it’s no problem, just something small but - i remember you said you were interested in dreams and. . . you can use it for notes and stuff.” you say clumsily, almost tripping over your own words.
✰ he nods and stands awkwardly.
✰ abby looks at the two of you, “completely hopeless. . .” she mutters under her breath, too quiet for either of you to hear before she waddles in, pulling you both into a hug. with a hand each on abby’s back and one on each other’s, you and mike embrace a little. this is the closest you’ve ever been and it feels. . . nice.
✰ pulling back, you all let out a little chuckle. this was the nicest birthday mike had experienced since. . . well, since.
✰ you turn away from mike, breathing a small sigh of relief to be away from his gaze for a second - were your cheeks still super red? whatever. you pulled a small lighter from your back pocket and bent over, lighting the candles on the cake.
✰ “come on. . .” mike laughs in disbelief, “you’re not seriously gonna-“
✰ before he can finish his sentence, you and abby begin singing happy birthday to him in sync. abby gladly takes the role of holding the cake with pride, aiming it up towards him. mike stands, glaring at the two of you as you finish the song. you both beam big smiles back at him.
✰ mike waits a few moments, cursing you both with glares before he reluctantly blows out the candles dramatically.
✰ “what did you wish for!” abby blurts out before correcting herself, “no wait, don’t tell! then it won’t come true!”
✰ but mike looks at you. he wished for another birthday next year just like this, with you and abby. unable to wipe the smile from his face, you catch his stare and smile back.
✰ you already had ideas for his next birthday, and it involved a lot more balloons.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @sun-spider13 @laurrrelise @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson‧₊˚ ily all sm!! thank you!
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nekrosdolly · 9 months
Note
Wesker surviving RE5. Taking a good while to recover. When he final tracks Chris many years later he sees a young woman with Chris. Obviously not Chris' wife.
Chris got a daughter. And Wesker knows how to truely break him now.
Poor girl, she gets hit on by a super hot dude not knowing that he is her dads biggest enemy
listen... this would go fucking crazy... 18+
cw; afab!reader, creep!wesker, reader is 21-ish and wesker is... *gulps*... 61, dad!chris isn't the best dad, i'm projecting big time with this one guys sorry, takes place circa re8, reader is in college, no use of y/n, chris is the kind of alcoholic dad that you don't want your boyfriend to meet because you are, in fact, embarrassed of him, wesker drives a lincoln mkz zephyr.
you look like your dad but prettier. softer, sweeter features than your father's own. your eyes are paralyzingly innocent, and he can't help himself when he lays eyes on you. you're younger than albert by a concerning amount of years, but thanks to your dad's unintentional neglect during your childhood, you've got some issues.
your father never told you about wesker- or anything relating to his line of work. how foolish of chris to not take such precautions with his daughter. you never bothered to ask, either, as you felt some sort of resentment towards your dad in your teenage years. everything he did pissed you off, especially when he was trying to bond. so of course you decided to date someone just as old, if not older than your dad, just to piss him off in return.
that's when you stumbled across wesker. he was handsome for his age, though he looks much younger and you're not sure why. the sunglasses thing confused you, though he'd told you once when you had first started talking that he has light-sensitive eyes. you, being so trusting of this nice, older man who made you feel wanted, believed him and every little thing he ever told you. he'd make you feel so warm inside, and it didn't take long for you to fall for him.
he'd made a show of falling for you, too, to keep you under his thumb. you were the type to flee at the first sign of abandonment; he couldn't have that.
your dad was shocked when you told him you'd found a boyfriend. thanks to your strained relationship, you'd hardly talked to him after leaving for college, which he blamed himself for. it had only worsened between the two of you after your mother left.
and now, at dinner, your dad thinks it's the greatest idea in the world talk about your beloved.
"so," your father starts as he saws through thick-cut steak with a serrated knife, cutting you off a piece, "this boyfriend of yours, when am i meeting him?"
"you want to meet my boyfriend?" you cock an eyebrow at your father, though he doesn't meet your gaze. his own is fixed to the bit of steak he's setting on your plate beside some vegetables.
"well, yeah. must be pretty serious if you told me about him." chris finally looks at you, setting his silverware down. you swallow.
"i don't know, dad."
"what, are you embarrassed of me?"
"i didn't say that, don't put words in my mouth." you stuff a piece of sauteed cauliflower in your mouth as chris sighs inwardly. for the next ten minutes, there's no sound except silverware clinking against your plates and your father's jaw popping here and there.
neither of you can take much more of the awkward silence.
chris clears his throat and leans back in his chair, "listen, i just want to make sure you're dating a good guy, okay?"
"yeah, sure." the bitterness and slight annoyance in your voice is hard to hide. you don't bother.
"is that a crime? wanting to look out for my kid?" he crosses his arms over his chest, getting a little defensive.
"don't you think it's a little late to play dad of the year? i'm not a child, i don't need you to look out for me."
"i know you're not a child-"
"then just stop." you're standing up from your chair, "stop trying to be a bigger part of my life. stop acting like you care. stop."
"fine, you want to be an ungrateful brat?" your dad stands up too, "then get out. take your shit and leave, or shut the hell up."
you don't really have anywhere else to go, so you slink back into your chair and reluctantly finish your food. with all the money your dad gets from his job, he's paying your tuition.
your dad downs the whiskey in his glass and gathers his dishes, leaving you to sit in silence at the dinner table.
-
your father lets the boyfriend thing go until you bring it up to him again, this time on your own.
when you bring it up to albert, he's delighted.
"i'd be honored," he tells you as he leans down to kiss your cheek, he's confident about this, which puts you at ease because you know your father isn't going to take this very well.
-
you're dressed your best, as is albert, who's got his hand on your lower back protectively. he can sense your nerves- uroboros didn't completely burn out of his system- as if they were his own, and he kisses your head as you unlock the front door. based on the black jeep in the driveway, beside albert's zephyr, your father is home. you open the door, and in a flash, you're pushed out of the way.
you didn't expect your father to have a loaded gun aimed at your boyfriend so quickly, if at all. a deep laugh sounds from albert.
"oh, chris..."
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webslingingslasher · 2 years
Text
Do you remember?
Fun fact, I have been writing this piece off and on for about a year now. The fact I think it's finally done and ready to be shared is insane.
Pairing: MCU! Peter Parker X Stark!Reader
Genre: Fluffy, some angst.
Word Count: 6K
Summary: You told Peter you love him, he's not sure you understand what you said. You're acting like you didn't know what you said. Do you remember what you said?
Warnings: mentions of sex while intoxicated, not hammered but tipsy. no assult here baby, not on my page! also, not really stark! reader, her dad is Tony and thats it.
Peter loved and hated working with Tony alone. 
Tony was the best mentor Peter could’ve dreamed of but ever since he started dating you time alone with Tony always felt off. Peter was his protege but when he became your boyfriend Tony wanted to test him further, that because his daughter had feelings for him, it was his fault. Not that he’s complaining because thank god you did but Tony didn’t have to ask questions about your relationship and back Peter in a corner with certain questions and take pride when he falters.
So when Tony told him about the sudden three day trip and they would have to do an entire suit reset and build it made him want to stomp in the lab with lead filled boots. To make matters worse he knew it would be an all night thing and you weren’t going to be around. 
Tony was on one side of the lab at his own station working on the new Spider-Man suit upgrade hunched over a table, he turned every so often and would grunt at Peter looking for his approval. Peter sat on the opposite side of the lab at his own station tinkering with his web shooters, he was helping Tony update the technology with each suit upgrade; the suit got taser webs so did his shooters. 
It was nearing midnight, he had been hiding in the lab for half the day with Tony. He had come over after a quick after school patrol knowing he wouldn’t be able to go out later that night. Peter showed up with a giant Delmar’s sub, the kind he could only get with a hookup. He had splurged knowing it would most likely be the last time he saw you this evening. His half of the sub had extra pickles and yours had onion, he did surrender to your request of keeping it unsmooshed. One time you gave into his claims of it being the superior way to have a sub but gagged when you told him that you “hate to break his spirits but that’s sog heaven.”
You, on the other hand, had plans with MJ to go to a small bar to watch a band play tonight. Not your style but the headliner was MJ’s favorite and she had no one else to ask. Ned promised he would have gone but bars downtown gross him out. (When MJ pointed out he had never been to a bar downtown he blinked at her and said “yeah, because they’re gross”)
When 9:30 rolled around you made your way into the lab to say goodbye to your boys. Adorned in a mid length dress to help you look a bit older than what you were, you paired it with some small heels.  
“Bye Bye, I'll miss you.” You walked to your boyfriend, when he looked up from the screwdriver and disc in his hand, eyebrows furrowed, obviously not happy with his task being more frustrating than he had hoped, had smiled when he saw your face.
 “Bye Bye, I’ll miss you more.” He leant up and puckered his lips and you met his mouth quickly. “Call me if you need me,” he mumbled when he pulled away, pressing two more pecks to your sticky lips. 
“Bye father, love you.” You called behind your shoulder already walking towards the glass door.
“Bye daughter, be safe.” Tony shot back, not even looking up. 
Then called out to you, “Heels in a bar isn’t a good idea.” 
Peter smiled and watched you pout,  you held a foot out and wiggled an ankle before leaving the room, definitely on your way to change into actual shoes. 
-----------------------------------------------------------
Then sometime around 11:40 Peter's phone rang, your contact photo popping up across his screen. A small smile involuntarily creeping unto his face 
“It hasn't even been two hours yet!” He laughed into the phone, “Peter? It's MJ.” She didn’t laugh at his joke, his heart already speeding up. “Where’s y/n? Is she okay?” His response was quick, Tony looking around his shoulder at the kid sitting straight in the office chair. 
“Yeah, sh-“ MJ couldn't even answer his question before he heard a loud voice in the background, “Is that Peter? Tell him I miss him! Where is he? Peter, where are you?” MJ pulled the phone from her ear slightly “Hold on, I'm asking him.” 
“Peter!” he heard your voice cut back in whining.
“Y/N!” MJ hissed at you so you would be silenced for a moment. 
“Is she-“ Peter began to form the question, MJ beating him to the punch 
“Drunk? Yes. Very.” She turned to make sure you were still next to her, you twisted from side to side playing with a stand of hair mumbling to the cover song that a band was blasting through the bar rattling both of your chests.
“Peter, some men kept buying me drinks and wouldn’t take no as an answer so I need you to come save me.” You shot into the phone, tired and annoyed you just wanted your boyfriend with you. 
“She kept asking for you. I gave it an hour before I called, she’s pretty drunk.” She sighed into the phone a little disappointed she wouldn’t see the last performance. 
“I'll be there in 10 minutes. Wait outside if it’s safe.” He instructed MJ before hanging up and standing on his feet. 
He looked at his mentor and girlfriend's dad who was already staring at him. “Y/N got drunk at the bar and wants me to come get her.” He filled Tony in so he wouldn’t panic like Peter had.
“Like father, like daughter.” He chuckled before turning back around to get the update time on the suit and sighed at the estimated time.
“I'm going to get her and help her to bed then we can finish, okay Mr Stark?” Peter asked his boss. 
“Get her home in one piece.” He waved him off. 
------------------------------------------------------------
“How long is ten minutes?” You asked MJ.
You were sitting outside the small bar, vines pressing into your backs where they were growing up the wall, dust settling into your bare thighs.
“Ten minutes”. She quickly replied
“Oh. Okay.” You swept your hand over some dirt in the concrete. You were silent for less than ten seconds, “It hasn’t been ten minutes?” You scrunch your face. 
“It’s been-“ She pauses to look at your phone, “Seven minutes.” You nod. 
“You know one of the things I love about Peter is that he’s very punctual.” You gave MJ a knowing look, “when he actually shows up I mean.” She nodded knowing what you meant. 
“He's still a really good boyfriend though.” You begin plucking weeds growing between the concrete cracks. 
“I miss Peter, has it been ten minutes?” You went to look at MJ once more when you heard
“I missed you too, and it’s been nine minutes.” You gasped at the boy in front of you, surprised as if you weren't aware he’d be showing up. 
You looked at MJ next to you and slapped her arm, “See! what did I tell you, punctual!” 
You raised your hands palm up gripping at Peter so he could help pull you up. Once you were standing he pulled you into his side tightly placing you under an arm so you wouldn’t wobble when he offered his hand to MJ. 
Before all three of you could walk away from the bar you looked at Peter “I missed you. Can I have a kiss now please?” you already had your mouth in his face, not really giving him a choice but he laughed anyway and gave you three quick kisses. 
You pulled back looking at your boyfriend, a lust driven haze swallowed your eyes “Can we have sex when we get home?” You asked. Peter choked on his air and MJ busted out laughing, your eyes swept from MJ to Peter not understanding the joke until Peter said “not in front of our friends.”
Peter gave MJ the car to get home and walked you  the shortest distance home, figuring the walk would help sober you up. 
“And then I told him I was only a baby and he was still buying me drinks! I was okay with one or two but then he wouldn’t stop telling me to drink and I was wasting alcohol and then I got really scared.” You were explaining the night to Peter, talking with your hands, watching your face shift into a million emotions. 
“Is that when MJ called me?” Peter continued to learn the story 
You nodded frantically, “Yes. Thank you for saving me.” You smiled at him before interlocking your hands and swinging them. 
“I love dating Peter, don't get me wrong but I like when I get to date Spider-Man too.”
“Can I piggyback?” You huffed in the middle of the street, annoyed with walking. 
Peter knelt down in front of you and hooked his hand around your knees to help push you around his back, the perks to a super strength boyfriend- they can carry you for miles. 
Resting a chin on his shoulder you had your arms wrapped around his neck one hand loosely pointing at objects and giving them a life story, “and that lamp post Petey, imagine the things it’s seen. Imagine how long it’s been there!”
Talking to him about the things you saw on the way home from “way up here!” and a small game of i-spy you kept losing because you kept forgetting what color Peter said he saw. 
“Can we have sex?” You whispered in his ear, cautious to look around you to avoid the embarrassment he had the first time you asked. 
“Let me get you home first and ready for bed.” He replied sternly before lifting you higher on his back. 
“Okay!” You took that as a win, and settled back into his shoulder. 
----------------------------------------------------------
“Are you hungry?” Were the first words Peter asked when you walked into the kitchen. 
“Oh my god, I was just about to say I was starving.” Your eyes widened at him, “We are seriously made for eachother.” You clapped him on the chest before asking him for a bowl of cereal. 
Two bowls of Coco Pops later, Peter had finally gotten you upstairs in your room and had helped you undress.
“What pajamas do you want?” He stood in your closet waiting for you to tell him what shirt.
“Yours!” You yipped back. 
“Mine what?” He looked down at himself, he was wearing a normal outfit. Jeans, shirt, hoodie. 
“Shirt.” You pointed at his shirt, and so did he. “The one I'm wearing?” His girlfriend nodded her head enthusiastically, taking her bra off as he shrugged his shoulders and gave her what she wanted. 
“Wash your face, brush your teeth.” He instructed her next. He watched her stand in the mirror for a minute, “do you need any help?” she shook her head. 
“I'm going to go update your dad, I’ll be right back okay?” He waited for an answer before leaving, zipping his hoodie over his bare skin. 
----------------------------------------------------------
“Y/N‘s okay.” Peter knocked on the glass next to him so he wouldn’t sneak up on Tony. 
“Good, is she in bed?” He was ready to finish for the night, they were set back a good thirty minutes to an hour now.
He shook his head, “She’s brushing her teeth and wants me to stay with her until she falls asleep. It won’t be long though.” He promises. 
“Take care of her.” The elder Stark waved him off once more.
------------------------------------------------------------
“Okay I read this at least four times in the mirror,” you turned when you saw your boyfriend reappear behind you. “And I still don’t understand what it means.” You were referencing the shirt you  were in. It had a science joke on it, or maybe math. 
“It says find x, and the x is circled.” 
“oooooh,” You dragged out. “I knew that.” You quickly added. 
You stepped in front of him and gave him a hug, holding on, you looked up “teeth brushed, face washed, can we have sex now?” 
Peter brushed some hair from your face, “are you okay?” He asked quietly. 
“Are you asking if I'm sober?” You kissed his palm. 
“What's the last ten letters of the alphabet backwards?” Peter asked, holding your hand with one and scratching down your back with another. 
“z,y,x,w,v,u,t,s,r,q” You replied 
“Who won the 2016 presidential election?” 
“Don’t make me say it.” You bit back. 
Peter muffled a laugh, “How many fingers am I holding up?” He lifted his hand in a peace sign, you squint your eyes and concentrated, “Twelve.” 
“Seems sober to me.” He told you. 
“Sex time?” You looked up at him. 
“Sex time.” He deadpanned. 
“Fuck yes! You’re the best boyfriend ever. I love you.” You squealed and pressed a fast kiss to his mouth before you hopped into your bed, fixing the pillows. 
Peter stood solid in the ground. He wasn’t sure if you were so sober now, his heart was suddenly red hot and he felt like he needed to lay down. Those words had never come from your mouth before and you shot them with such ease it almost unsettled him. 
He loves you. He knows that for certain, he just didn’t know you did. And he’s not even sure you understand what you just said because his ears are ringing and you're humming on your bed kicking your feet. 
“Y/N?” he cautions your name, before he goes forward with the kisses and coos he wants to be sure they’re on the same page
“Peter!” You call back. 
“Are you gonna get me naked or am I gonna get me naked?” You asked him before he was able to say anything more to you. 
Peter started to unzip his hoodie, he figured if she was playing dumb so would he. 
Drunk words sober thoughts rant in the back of his head but he pushed that to the back of his mind. He could analyze this another day, as of right now his beautiful tipsy girlfriend was begging him for sex and he wasn’t going to let her down.
Walking his way towards you he bent down to kiss you before getting on top of you, not missing the loud squeal you produced when he ran his hands under the shirt you were wearing preparing to take it off.
He pulled back slightly looking down at your wide eyes sparkling in the moonlight creeping between the cracks in the blinds. 
Your cheeks flushed and a cheek hurting smile adored your face, he’s never loved you more in this moment but instead of filling you in on his thoughts he whispered a “Shhh..” before placing his lips on yours delicately. 
-----------------------------------------------------------
Watching you sleep on Peter's chest has never felt like this before. 
He’s always thought you were beautiful, and he always thought he loved you but having your weight on him, soft snores coming from your mouth while his hands ran down your naked back he felt different. 
When you told him you loved him, intentional or not, something changed. He felt it immediately. 
Peter had always been caring and would stop at nothing to keep you safe but after tonight the feeling deepened. It went from keeping you safe to a sense of protection, he felt like it was his personal duty to harm whatever came in your path.  
He moved a piece of hair from your face as it dawned on him, he told himself “I would kill for her.” He felt his heart get loud in his chest and ears and felt his feet clam up, he hadn’t felt like this before. 
It’s never been so black and white, he knew at that moment had everyone ever tried to hurt you he would do anything in his power possible to keep you safe and protected. 
And suddenly he had to leave. He didn’t like that feeling. He's a good guy, he’s the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, he keeps the city safe. So the idea of him being so okay with hurting anyone who ever tries to touch you scares him. 
He was thinking like a villain; heros will protect the many at the cost of one but villains protect one at the cost of many, and he would destroy New York for you. 
Gently removing himself from the bed he slowly gets dressed before heading back to the lab with your dad to finish the nightly task before the early morning. 
Sliding back into the lab he threw himself down into the chair focused on his web shooters. 
“Are you okay?” Tony asked the protege already sensing something was off, standing to his full height and turning to Peter directly.
Peter didn’t look up but responded, “She said she loves me” 
Tony's eyebrows went up, “Did you say it back?” 
“No. I don't even think she realized she said it.” He twisted the screwdriver in his hand. 
“Is that why you're upset?” Tony asked back, arms crossed over his shoulders.
“No.” Peter shook his head, he didn’t want to have this conversation with his girlfriend's dad but seeing as he was also a superhero he was probably one of the only people that could truly understand it. 
“She was laying on top of me just sleeping, and this feeling came over me and sent me into a panic. I always thought I would protect my friends and May the best I could but just seeing her tonight I realized that I would die for her.” He paused, “I would kill for her.” Peter finally looked up and locked eyes with his mentor and girlfriends father hoping he would understand 
He nodded, letting him continue “I've never felt that way before. I feel responsible for keeping my city safe but I've never felt responsible for another person before.” 
“And it’s fucking terrifying.” He let out in a breath, his chest already feeling lighter. “I really love her, Mr. Stark.” His eyes started to sting, whether it was from tears or exhaustion he wasn’t sure. 
Tony nodded his head before coming closer and sitting across the bench from him.
“When Y/N was born, after I held her for the first time I told everyone I was going downstairs for coffee but I actually went into the garden and just cried because I had never had a feeling like that before in my life.” He spoke softly but sincerely. 
“When Y/N  told me how much she had liked you before she even told you I immediately felt a pressure coming off of me, because I knew no matter what she was always going to be safe and cared for with you.”  
“It’s scary to feel so strongly about someone else but seeing it recipucated makes it all worth it, and super powers or not Y/N would die for you too. Not that you’d ever let her.” He laughed at the end, but meant every word. His daughter was one of the strongest people he knew. 
Peter smiled at that. 
“I know.” 
Tony slapped his hand on the table, “Now how about you say we finish this up and get a few hours of sleep in before the trip tomorrow?”
-----------------------------------------------------------
About an hour later you woke up, groggy with a pounding headache and an empty bed. Pulling yourself to the bathroom to pee, you put Peter's shirt back on and some slippers before making your way to the lab. 
Walking in Peter's head looked up at you before clicking his tongue at you, “What are you doing up?” he joked. 
“What are you not doing in bed with me?” You asked back before sitting down on his lap, your head falling into his neck. 
He wrapped his arm around you holding his web shooter in one and screwdriver in the other still trying to piece them back together. 
“How much longer?” You asked huffing at the fluorescent lighting.
“Maybe 10 minutes.” Peter replied softly knowing you're still on the brink of sleep. 
“I have a really bad headache.” He could feel you frowning in his neck. 
Pausing his hand movements he pulled you tighter “Do you want me to get you some medicine?” 
You nodded but tightened your hold on him when he went to stand up, “you can finish first, I’ll just sleep here.” You snuggled deeper into him finally finding the perfect position that blocked all the lights out. 
Peter went back to working and sure enough felt your body get heavier and a bit more loose as you actually dropped back to sleep.
Ten minutes ended up being almost twenty five but once he was done and Tony left the lab with a “Goodnight, be ready by 7:15,” He had started to run his hand down your back trying to slowly wake you back up.
“Let's go to bed, okay?” He whispered in your ear.
Still more than half asleep, you nodded but kept your eyes closed and pressed yourself to Peter so he would keep you balanced while he walked you to your room. 
Stopping at the kitchen to get you a water bottle and some pills for your headache and then finally back to your room to cuddle for the night. 
When you finally laid back into bed with him you shoved your face into his bare chest, your legs intertwined with his, you grabbed onto his hair with one hand too tired to scratch at it. He nudged you anyways and you started to run your fingers through his curls and he gave a contempt sigh, you shuffled your hips closer to his and pressed around his body tighter. 
You broke the quiet moment with a whisper. 
“You’re not allowed to leave.” 
Peter laid his head on top of yours. 
“You know what I hate about Spider-Man?” 
No. He never talks bad about his alter ego, always going on about responsibilities and stopping bad things from happening, he has never complained or ragged on him. You shook your head into his chest, your hand still reached over your head, still dragging fingers through his own. 
“I hate we’re two people in the same body. Sometimes when I take off the suit I wish I was actually taking it off. Like, I lost all responsibilities and I was just Peter Parker. A normal 18 year old, about to graduate having a dope ass intern gig and dating Tony Stark’s daughter and not sharing that with Spider-Man. I wish it was a switch I could turn on and off, and when I'm with you, I really hate having to leave to go be, him.” 
He sighed and you tugged at his hair to show you were listening and waiting for more. 
“Sometimes, it just feels,” Peter stopped when his voice cracked. You knew that was a warning sign from Peter, he was about to cry. He laughed to hide a sob, he stayed quiet. You stayed on his chest, you turned your mouth in to press three small kisses, “Feels like what?” You whispered against his skin. 
He shook his head, if he stayed silent one more time you knew he was already crying but trying to hide it. “Petey?” Your head bounced from his chest when he let out a sob, his breathing getting loud, you sat up to face him watching him hold a hand over his mouth as another one was on his chest trying to ground his breaths. Tears were flowing down his cheeks, he choked out another sob on his hand, you tried to pull his head to your chest but he pushed you away. 
"It just feels unfair."
You’ve only seen him this bad once before, it was after a mental breakdown, similar to this one. It was just a combination of everything happening at once.
He and you had a fight, May was mad about something, he was getting his ass beat nightly and couldn’t even catch the guy and couldn’t get Tony to help because he pissed off his girlfriend, and therefore Tony was pissed at Peter.
And he was trying to study for the upcoming SAT while trying not to think of you being mad at him and how he was going to fix that, while also thinking about that guy still kicking his ass and his suit tech failing after various beatings but he was banned from the tower until he made up with Y/N, per word of her father.
And, trying not to think about May being pissed about something still, and not remembering what it was but it was probably a big fuck up on his end and reached his breaking point while in this spiral May came through his door and asked him “Why haven’t you taken the trash out? Or brought the laundry down? Or wash the dishes? Or anything I asked you?” Her tone was bitter, she sure was pissed. 
Then Peter turned his head to his desk, saw his phone resting on his PSAT workbook unlocked with your messages open but with nothing new. He snapped the pencil in his hand and sobbed. He cried so hard and suddenly May ran to him to grab him from dropping to the floor, “Peter?” He wouldn’t stop, he was babbling between not being able to breathe, his sobs were full of chokes and coughs. 
“Sorry-” “Tired” “Y/N” “Fight” “Banned” “Stressed” “Sacred” Were bits and pieces of the words May heard from him, sorry was a favorite he was using on loop. “Peter, what can I do? You need to calm down.” She was rubbing at his chest like she did when he was a baby, it would always calm him down. Sometimes she would catch you doing the same thing, “Y/N” He nearly screamed it with his cry, “I can call her, I can call her,” May fumbled for her phone in her pocket.
You looked at your phone light up with May’s contact photo, your brows furrowed. She never calls you. Texts, sure. But Calls? No. You almost thought it was Peter but you didn’t block his number or anything so there was no reason. 
“Hello?” 
She heard cries and heaving breathing in the background
“Y/N, you need to come over right now.” 
May was quick to the point. You heard a chorus of ‘Sorry’ in the background and coughing and sniffles. 
“Is he okay?” 
“No.” 
Your heart hurts. You’ve never heard anything like this from him. 
“I’m on my way. Can he hold the phone?” 
You heard May ask the question, a shuffling sound played, the trading of hands. 
You knew Peter was on the phone, the sobs ceased but he still couldn’t catch his breath, you heard sharp quick intakes every few seconds, no doubt tears still falling down his face. 
“Peter? Petey, listen to me. I’m on my way to come see you, okay? I need you to catch your breath, can you do that? I’m coming, Peter. I promise.” 
“M’ Sorry.” His voice was squeaky, he was forcing the words out. 
“I’m not mad. I’m not mad I promise. I just miss you and want you to be okay. I’m on my way right now.” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay? I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 
He pushed the phone back to May and she ended the call. His crying stopped, his breathing slowed. He was calm for a couple minutes. Then he remembered the fight, again. And about the SAT’s and how he’s still not done with that guy from three nights ago and started all over again. 
You remember how broken he looked then, how stress piled on him and crushed him entirely. His plate was so overloaded it cracked the glass. You sat next to him on the floor and straddled his hips, you pressed yourself to him and repeated ‘I’m here’ over and over. 
But tonight he was rejecting your help. 
“It just feels so unfair” 
He felt so shameful using these words. It was his secret, he always thought about it but there was nothing he could change about it so why complain? 
“It is unfair, Pete.” 
“It’s really unfair,” You added. “It really sucks you have to miss out on things in your life to do things in another life you didn’t ask for. It’s actually kind of shitty, I don’t know how you don’t complain more.” You were honest but you got a laugh from Peter and kept going, you were slowing his brain. 
“Seriously, babe. Could you imagine if I had powers? Do you know how much I would drag on about it? ‘Oh my god, I had to, like, save a child today. Ugh,�� Or, i’d be like, ‘bro they asked me to hold a ferry together, ME!’” You smiled at Peter’s face brightening up. “I would never shut up about it. You’re braver than the marines for never talking shit on the web man.” 
“Web man?” He gave a guttural laugh
“You’re a good person and you don’t deserve half the shit life throws at you.” 
“What’s the other half of shit I do deserve?” 
“Me.” 
Peter sighed and laid on you this time. He kissed your temple, they didn’t need to say anything more. He was soaking up this moment, in just five hours he would be up and on a quinjet to a top secret location he would find out on the way, and be missing your warmth for three days. He would normally tell you he would never deserve you but he let you win tonight. 
“Good night, baby.” 
“Good night, Petey.” 
Peter woke to Tony pushing on his shoulder, “Get up kid, let’s go.” He lifted his head from his girlfriend's shoulder and turned towards Tony and gave him a death glare. 
He removed himself from the bed with a groan when Tony left the room. Peter watched your body lay unmoving and moved around the room silently collecting his things. He pulled on his suit and folded up his clothes on the floor and grabbed his phone and the small bag he would be taking with him on the trip. 
He moved to your side of the bed, you were still squished in as if Peter’s weight was still resting on you, soft snores billowed from your mouth, hair combed around your face and he moved his hand across your forehead to clear it. When he moved his hand across your face you lent into it, a subconscious movement that had you leaning into his touch. He sighed and felt upset to be leaving, it would only be two nights away, he could deal with that. 
“Hey baby?” He lent down to kiss across your face, trying to wake you to say goodbye always hurt him. 
You whined and pressed your cheek further into the pillow. Peter kissed the cheek facing him a few times before he tried again. 
“Baby, I’m leaving. Give me a kiss before I go.” 
Your eyes opened for a moment seeing your boyfriend sitting over you, his red and blue suit contoured to his body. It was too early for him to be Spider-Man. 
“It’s too early for Spidey.” 
“I know. It’s a good thing he can sleep on the plane.” 
You opened your eyes again, awake for now. You studied his face, he looked okay. 
“I thought we said you were staying home.” 
“Next time,” he smiled. 
He would’ve added a ‘promise’ to it but he wouldn’t make a promise to something he knew he couldn’t keep. 
You make a ‘psh’ sound, “Yeah, right.” 
“Two minutes, Underoos.” Tony’s voice belted from the hallway. 
“C’mon. One kiss, and I’ll be back before you miss me.” 
You leaned up to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, a goodbye kiss, an I’ll miss you kiss, an be safe, I need you kiss. 
He pulled away and turned to leave when you called from the bed, 
“I love you, Peter. Be safe.” 
His head never whipped around so quickly, his face with a smile you’ve never seen before. 
“You remember!” 
He wanted to tell you those words last night so badly but was terrified you said it in a moment of recklessness and wanted to make sure they counted when he said them. 
He jumped full force onto the bed barely catching himself before he flattened you. He was pressing kisses all over your face while you were giggling trying to push him off, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” was thrown with each kiss to a new spot. 
“Of course I remember! I love you and I want you to know it.” 
“I love you too, and I want you to know it.” 
Tony interrupted the moment, 
“Now. Spider.” 
He nodded at you, “Be careful when I’m gone Y/N. You need either one of us just call, we’ll be around. I’ll see you in three days, okay?” 
“Okay. Bye dad. I love you, be safe.” 
Tony looked to Peter for him to follow him out of the room. 
“I love you Petey.” 
“I love you too.” 
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bestofmultiverse · 2 months
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I see heaven (crush me)
Chapter 2: Come on i dare you to love me
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Trigger warning: this chapter contains bad written p0rn and horrible stuff as rape, violence etc.
haven't checked for mistakes, sorry in advance
Read on ao3 • chapter 1 on tumblr
Casey was late, again.
It was her second year first day, and last class for the day.
Alex's class.
In her defense, this time it wasn't her fault, she was pulled into an after class conversation by professor Callahan, that sexist asshole, and he just didn't want to let her go.
When she got into the classroom she met with alex's stern glare,
"Miss novak, are you trying to make a new tradition of being late to my class on the first day?"
This time, in contrast to last year alex let casey come into class and grab her sit at the front.
The class went smoothly afterwards, nothing too special, when it ended and everyone got up to leave alex spoke up.
"Miss novak, my office" alex said before leaving the room and walking toward her office.
Casey exchanged looks with her friend Elle - who was one of her favorite people in class. (A/N - yes i mean the original iconic legally blonde herself)
The blonde gave her a shrug and mouthed good luck as she went towards the exit.
"She has a death wish i swear" olivia said to one of her friends with a chuckle.
Casey sent her a glare.
When the redhead got to alex's office she got a stern look from the older woman.
Alex sat on her chair, casey decided to sit on the chair opposite from her , she felt she was in the principal office for scolding.
"Hey to you too"
Casey said sarcastically.
"Well?" Alex glared.
casey sighed
"I swear it wasn't my fault this time. It was this creep Callahan" casey said and alex raised an eyebrow
"The professor?" The blonde asked confused
"Yeah yeah he basically cornered me to have a long conversation about his goddamn ego"
"Well, he is a defense attorney" alex finally said after a moment.
Casey chuckled
"You're still mad?" The redhead asked and alex rolled her eyes and got up from her sit.
She crossed the room to make sure the door is locked before she went to casey and straddled her.
"Yes, but i think i have an idea how you can make it up to me" alex said and kissed casey's lips softly.
when she was about to break the kiss casey pulled her into her again, a bit roughly, her hands sneaking into the older's woman hair,
Alex's hands lowered from casey's cheeks to her throat.
To be honest at the last few months- since casey's end of season game the two were annoyingly in love, although life had different plans for them,
Their whole affair started while casey was still cramming for the last exams of the semester.
and than although it was the summer break- and they they found themselves spending some quality time together- both were fairly busy, alex took a work trip to NYPD to help the new york finest as a temporary ADA while casey started working as an intern in a law firm in Massachusetts along side some of the finest lawyers alex met.
To say alex didn't pulled some strings to get casey there will be a lie, but she would've done it either way, every year she chose the best first year in her class and gave them a chance to experience the real world.
This year it happened to be casey- who ended up being the top of her class, her friend- Elle woods a few steps behind.
The two barely seen each other in the past 2 weeks and they were craving each other's touch. Their make out session was getting a lot more intense by the second and alex found herself gasping for air as casey's hands opened a few buttons in her blouse, to reveal a red lace bra.
"You're so hot baby"
casey whispered before pushing alex's blouse off, leaving her in bra and skirt only.
"I don't think thats a good idea case"
alex admitted as casey pulled herself up with alex in arms, toned arms flexing as she led them to the couch.
"No one will know, everybody's gone home"
casey reassured the blonde before she pushed her down on her back.
Alex thought casey was the hottest human to exist, with strong arms that quite literally could carry her everywhere.
The older woman pulled casey into a bruising kiss, casey climbed on top of alex and kissed down her neck to her shoulder
she stopped and unlocked the clip of alex's bra before she threw it away somewhere and attacked her nipple with a skilled tongue.
Left hand pinched and played with the other nipple.
Alex moaned softly, both knew she needed this release, and soon,
To say the two waited a lot before jumping into bed will be a lie.
And god bless both, each time they had sex it was mind blowing.
Which also meant, that the fact they hadn't slept together in two weeks made both very desperate.
"I need you to fuck me , soon" alex said and pulled casey into her.
"Do you have any preferences?" Casey asked
"Hard"
Casey meant tongue or fingers but whatever.
The redhead smirked before she kissed down alex's half naked body.
she pulled the older woman's skirt and panties down in a swift flick of her wrist before she started kissing and licking her clit.
Alex whimpered and tried to keep herself from moaning loudly.
Before alex could even speak casey pushed two fingers into her, starching and filling her in matter of seconds.
Alex pulled one of the pillows to her mouth to muffle her moaning, she couldn't contain herself from making them at this point.
Casey's fingers curled and pushed in hard and fast.
she continued doing so while her tongue played with alex's clit until she felt alex's walls clutching around her fingers.
Moments later the older woman's body rose a few inches in the air as Casey helped her ride her orgasm.
"Am i forgiven now?"
Casey asked when the professor calmed down
Alex threw the pillow on her face while she still tried to fix her breath, both women laughed before casey laid down on the blonde's chest.
----
"How long?"
George asked when the two roommates set together in their living room, casey's long lags spread on her best friend's lap as she zipped through the channels.
"Till I'll find something good to watch? I don't know man, honestly everything is total garbage"
George chuckled at his friends clueless answer
"I meant how long you've been sleeping with your professor"
Casey almost dropped the remote
"I dont know what you're talking about Georgie" she tried to keep her heartbeat from spiking and failed.
"Case, come on, it's me" he said and she sighed.
She knew damn well this man was too talented for his own good.
"Damn you george huang" she said before she pulled her legs away from the man's lap.
She pulled her knees to her chest.
"Technically around 3 months, but she's been gone for a big part of it, we did our best but haven't saw much of each other" she admitted.
She looked at the man with raised eyebrow.
"How did you know?"
"Im good in reading people" the man said with a small smile
"And also, you have a huge hicky on your neck and i saw the way you look at her when you think no one can see you"
"Oh" she whispered
"Is it serious, case?"
The future psychologist asked and put his hand on his friend's shoulder
He didn't want her to get hurt
"We haven't actually made it official or anything, about it but i think it is."
"Maybe you should then"
George said before he snatched the remote from her grasp.
"You're so damn bad at picking movies, case"
Casey laughed.
----
Case: lex? You awake?
It was around 12 am, mid week, and casey was tossing and turning in bed. Her conversation with George repeating in her mind.
Lex: i am, is everything alright?
Case: i have a question
Lex: okay
Case: what are we?
Alex hadn't answered and casey started to get nervous.
Lex: i don't know, what do you want us to be?
Case: girlfriends i think.
Is it something you want?
Lex: yes. One hundred percent yes.
Casey smiled softly at alex's reply
Case: can i come over? I know you have a morning class to teach but i just want to be with you.
Alex smiled at the text before she put on a sweatshirt and grabbed her glasses and car keys
Lex: I'll be outside your building in 20 minutes.
Case: thank you
Lex: nothing to thank me for baby, im getting cuddles.
Casey chuckled to herself
who would've thought the great alexandra cabot, the ice queen herself, is actually a big softie.
When casey got out alex was already outside, the blonde was leaning on her car with a tired expression.
"You shouldn't have come, i could take a van or something" casey said and walked towards her.
"Nonsense, i wanted too"
She said and greeted the younger woman with a kiss.
Casey melted into the older woman, A soft contained sigh leaving her lip.
"Hello girlfriend" casey whispered to her as she broke the kiss, their noses brushing.
Alex chuckled and kissed her nose.
"All mine" she promised
The drive to alex's apartment was quick and before casey could even get sleepy in the car she was already in alex's bed, tugged into a warm blanket and her girlfriend's warm embrace.
Alex kissed her temple before she turned off the lights as the two women drifted off to sleep.
The morning came faster than expected and alex groan as she heard casey's alarm.
"Turn it off" alex grumbled and casey laughed before doing as she was told.
"Why are you waking up now you don't have classes until noon??" alex asked with an annoyed expression.
Casey chuckled
"I'm going for a run"
Alex rolled her eyes
"That's horrible Cassandra"
Casey laughed and tried to pull away from her girlfriend's grasp
the older woman pulled her back to bed.
"You stay"
Alex commended and wrapped her girlfriend in a bear hug with a pout.
How is that a grown ass woman
casey thought with a chuckle as she laid on her girlfriend's chest.
"Lex you're supposed to get up in like ten minutes, you know that"
Alex ignored her and closed back her eyes.
casey, who got bored after 45 seconds of staying still with no apparent reason started to suck on the older woman's neck with a smirk.
If she's not getting her morning run, alex not getting her sleep.
"Baby don't start something you cant finish" alex groaned and casey smirked
"You owe me my cardio" she said in a sultry tone.
Alex opened her eyes and glared at the younger woman.
If she wanted to play, alex would play.
Before casey could even understand what was happening Alex switched up between their positions so she was on top and then pulled her girlfriend into a bruising kiss.
"Then try to keep up" alex taunted.
It wasn't long before Alex's long fingers were curling inside casey's cunt.
The redhead whimpering and moaning with no restraint.
Her nails digging into alex's naked back as her girlfriend fucked her with no mercy.
Casey's body was a piece of art, in alex's mind,
Especially when it was naked, scratched and marked by her own nails and lips.
Abs flexed to perfection, skin glistening with sweat, hair messy and eyes widened.
Alex loved seeing casey like that, all vulnerability and at her mercy.
"Oh god lex- I'm so close"
Casey was bagging, her naked body rising up with every thrust of alex's fingers.
The older woman was fucking casey so hard she felt her wrist getting crammed.
Alex's alarm went off - the annoying beep making alex curse.
"Dont you dare cuming" alex said before she pulled her fingers out and turned it off.
Casey gasped in shock.
"You fucking asshole" she groaned
"I told you to not start something you can't finish" alex taunted "we're out of time now"
"Please alex" casey whimpered, she tried to pull her legs together , hoping the friction will help ease her needs
"You're trying to make yourself cum? now thats something id like to see"
Alex challenged and casey whimpered again while she sent her smirking girlfriend a deadly glare
"I wouldn't have to if you weren't an ass" casey said angrily and alex laughed before she parted casey legs open again and pushed two fingers in again.
"You fucker" casey breathed out and alex grabbed her girlfriend's neck with her free hand, pressing on it,
it wasn't hard enough to do any harm of course, but enough to make casey moan louder.
The whole ordeal it turned alex on.
"Do you want to cum, baby?" alex asked and used the thumb of the hand that was fucking casey to press on her clit.
Alex kept eye contact between them the whole time , blue eyes boring into green.
"Yes lex - please" she was bagging.
Alex smirk grew and she took the younger woman's lips into a deep bruising kiss
"Then cum for me baby" she encouraged her girlfriend and pressed a bit harder on casey's neck.
Casey needn't more encouraging than that, in a matter of seconds she was shaking, her orgasm ripping violently through her body as she was moaning hard.
Casey's nails dug deep into alex's arms and back as she came.
"Good girl" alex encouraged her as she came down from the high.
The blonde kissed her so softly casey thought she might faint - the contrast between that and their recent activity was dizzying
"God you're good at everything, that's not fair"
She couldn't complain, really, as the person who profited from this the most.
Alex chuckled and kissed her again. Their noses brushing.
"Trust me, you're not too bad yourself"
Alex wasn't even trying to hide how good casey made feel every time they had sex, she genuinely meant that.
Casey wasn't just crazily dedicated and smart, she was kind, beautiful, funny, an incredible cook, had killer body and was the best sexual partner alex had in her 40 years on earth.
Alex lied back down, half on casey's chest and half on the bed, nuzzling her nose into the redhead's red neck.
"I love you, case" alex said as casey played with her hair, she felt secure in casey's arms.
"I love you too, so fucking much" casey returned the sentiment "and also, i think i cant walk"
Alex burst into laughter, knowing damn well casey will be sore for days to come
"Im serious tho, how am i supposed to go to class without people asking questions"
Alex laugher echo in the room.
"Tell them you fell down again" the older woman chuckled
"Yeah? On my pussy? Im sure that will work" Casey joked
"Well, you're pretty flexible, they might buy it"
"Shut up will you?" Casey kissed alex's temple.
"Never" alex said and kissed her nose, lips, and dimples as the younger woman rich laugh echoed through the bedroom.
---
Alex and casey's relationship was going perfectly,
Of course the two kept it a secret from everyone- except George that figured it out but swore to keep quite,
Their time together was priceless for both, in between casey's job , classes & softball practices and alex's loads of work.
It was a Friday night when the two were getting ready to different parties.
Casey was going to a house party of some seniors she worked with in the cafe- this time she promised to grab a cab to alex's when it ends instead of trying and walk by herself.
The fall semester just ended and Christmas was right around the corner, and of course there was a Christmas party- a bit earlier than the actual holiday- alex had to attend.
She preferred almost anything but be there, but the high society woman that she was had to attend. Especially because it was full with many of her colleagues.
"Baby, have you seen my black strapless dress?" Casey asked as she walked into the bathroom where alex was fixing her eyeliner.
"The black one?"
"Yeah" casey said and kissed alex's shoulder
"You left it at your place"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Yeah babe, why don't you use one of mine" alex said with a shrug.
"Oh yeah I'm sure no one will think it's out of place I'll be wearing a Versace or Dior to a house party while i'm here on scholarship" casey said, a bit harshly.
Money was a uncomfortable subject for casey, Alex knew,
While alex grew up in the elite of NY, as an only child of a very wealthy family, her girlfriend grew up in a middle class household- with 3 other siblings, they weren't poor, but casey definitely wouldn't be at harvard if it weren't for softball and both knew that.
Alex turned to her girlfriend and kissed her lips.
She knew Casey wasn't mad at her, just a bit defensive in her nature.
"C'mon i have some short fun ones you'd like, i promise they're more casual looking" alex reassured her girlfriend and packed her forehead.
"And if someone will ask questions tell them you have a sugar mommy" she smirked and casey chuckled.
Overall; alex was right, casey looked incredible in a short cocktail dress that made her ass look terrific
The cute bonus- that was dress alex wore the night they went to the ER after casey broke her nose. She wondered if the dress had the same effect of last time, just that this time the one to suffer will be the older woman.
One glance at alex said yes.
"You look incredible case" alex admitted before she kissed her girlfriend's shoulder.
"So are you" casey said truthfully,
Alex was wearing a white backless evening gown and her blonde soft hair was framing her face in curls .
"I gave you something" alex said with a smile
Casey looked at her amused
"A token for your friendship?" She said sarcastically
Alex chuckled and pulled out a case,
When she opened the fancy case casey saw the most beautiful necklace she ever saw, it was a white gold neckless with a moon shaped pendant.
Casey knew it was expensive without asking.
"You didn't have to"
"I know" alex said with a smile, casey smiled back.
"Can you close it?"
Casey said and alex nodded before putting the necklace on her neck- leaving a small kiss there when she finished.
When casey turned back to face her girlfriend she noticed alex's neckless.
It looked suspiciously like it was made to match with her own- opposites attracted kind of thing, instead of white gold moon It was gold with a sun pendant.
When alex noticed casey's stare she blushed.
"They're not completely different but not exactly the same, i wanted you to have a piece of me, even when I'm not there, same for me"
"Love the sentiment baby, but we're not going anywhere, I'm here to stay" casey chuckled and kissed her girlfriend hard on the lips.
They were officially together for 4 months now, growing stronger by the day.
"I ordered you a cab, the driver will be here in 10 minutes" alex informed her girlfriend when they broke apart.
Originally casey was going to go with her friends in george's car but since Elle and her boyfriend were joining them as well, she decided against it so no one will ask questions.
"If you decide to it stay at your place let me know, okay? So i won't worry" alex said as she grabbed her purse and kissed her girlfriend's lips again
"Of course baby, have fun!"
"I doubt i will, but thank you darling"
Casey rolled her eyes
"Bye baby, drink smart" alex chuckled before she went outside to her own cab.
---
Casey remembered partying being a lot more interesting, she went to at least 15 since the beginning of her college career, which wasn't a lot compared to others, but still.
The party was fun enough this, she played beer pong and danced with her friends and got to get loose before the exam season started.
after a few hours she found herself sitting outside in the house's backyard, having a conversation with a guy she never met before.
She didn't actually started the conversation - she originally went outside for a cigarette and to text alex, who asked about her well being, but the guy seemed nice so she tried to be polite.
He introduced himself as charlie, and was a business major
She was certain he was trying to hit on her- although she mentioned more than once that she was in a relationship and not interested.
To her annoyance the man didn't seem to notice or care about that.
Luckily for casey she managed to find a decent enough excuse to get away from the guy and go back inside to search for her friends
She found Elle first, the blonde was just about to search for her ti let her know she was leaving and that George was somewhere in the kitchen.
Elle ended up being right and casey found the man in the kitchen having a conversation with a friend of his.
When the redhead joined them, the woman, melinda, politely introduced herself and was eager to include casey in the conversation.
the three spoke among themselves for a few minutes or so before a fourth voice joined in.
Some fret guy butted into the conversation, clearly trying to make a move on melinda and put his arm on her shoulder, George looked at him with a glare as he saw his friend uncomfortable by the gesture.
George wanted to pull her away from the stranger but couldn't think of an excuse to do that without leaving casey alone with him as well- which he found unsettling as well.
At some point casey left the group in search for the bathroom, unfortunately for her she was drunk and the house was big and it took her 5 minutes to find the her destination, when she finished she opened the door to find a Charlie standing there.
It looked like he was waiting in line for the bathroom,
He was blocking the way, she figured it wasn't on purpose, so she waited for him to move, when he didn't she tried to push past him but Instead of moving away, as a decent person would've done, he grabbed her by the waist and shoved her back into the bathroom.
----
George and melinda were searching for Casey for a while, it's been over 20 minutes since she left to the bathroom and the two got worried.
The redhead wasn't answering her phone - which wasn't like her considering the fact she texted alex none stop through the evening.
When they did found her he gasped in shock,
She was laying on the floor, unconscious with an ugly bleeding gash on her forehead, her dress , alex's dress, was pulled up and whoever done that to her basically ripped her panties off.
George wanted to run towards casey but couldn't move, luckily for him, melinda was quick to react and was already checking for pulse.
"Call an ambulance" the woman shouted at him.
George couldn't move, he couldn't breathe.
"What happened?!" He heard, he turned around to get glimpse of brown hair.
He never had a conversation with the woman next to him, but she was familiar enough.
Olivia benson pulled her phone out and called 911 before she took off her letter jacket and covered casey half naked body.
"Is she dead?" Olivia asked melinda,
"no, but we need that ambulance now"
-
In the meantime at the other side of town alex was already in the apartment.
She managed to get away from the Christmas party eventually , it was around 2 am at this point and she had an unpleasant feeling in her gut.
Lex: getting here soon?
Alex sent casey a text before she went and changed to sweatpants and one of casey's t-shirts.
After her whole makeup removal and skin care routine she checked her phone for new messages but there was none.
Alex trusted casey, full heartedly, but she started to get worried, it wasn't like her to not text back pretty instantly.
Lex: babe?
Nothing.
Alex decided to call casey, maybe the younger woman hasn't checked her phone for a while.
When she reached voice mail she gotten more worried.
She waited another 30 minutes, sending some more texts and tried to call again
Still no response.
After the 3d try she got a call back.
Casey's name flashed on the screen.
"Where are you?"
She answered worriedly.
"Professor cabot?"
Alex's eyes widened in shock.
"Who is it?" She asked.
She'll have enough time to freak out about this later.
"It's olivia benson. Im with casey in the hospital"
Alex felt herself getting dizzy and sat down on the couch.
"Casey's been attacked" olivia said , her voice calm.
--
Alex hated hospitals and her shoes weren't made for running, she found that out, as she ran to the section olivia told her they were at, when she got there she was met with 3 traumatized young adults.
The first, alex didn't knew who she was, was sitting with her head in her hands- seemingly trying to calm herself down, there were a few blood stains on her shirt and alex almost fainted out of fear.
The second was casey's roommate, the man was pacing with eyes bloodshot and wet cheeks.
Not a calming sight.
And then there was Olivia benson,
The brunette was standing near the wall,
She didn't adress the elephant in the room, which was alex being there as someone other than a concerned professor,
She got to the point quickly and took alex out of her misery.
"They're still examine her, we found her unconscious, i think she was hit in the head with something but we don't really know what happened, we're just guessing at this point"
Alex chocked and covered her face with her hands
"You should sit" the brunette calmly said "Ill get you water"
Alex wasn't even in condition to argue, everything she felt was clouded with worry and anger.
"Cassandra novak" a doctor came out.
Alex bolted to him, the others not far behind.
"Cassandra has a concussion and will stay here for a day or so. But there's more"
When the doctor said what the other 3 already dreaded to hear alex started to sob.
Cassandra was raped.
He said
"Can we see her? Is she awake?" She choked on her words.
"Follow me" the man smiled sadly at them before showing them the way to the room casey was at.
Just when they walked into the room a nurse and a police officer left, alex figured it was someone from the sex crime unit and made a note to herself to call to an ADA she trusted in the morning.
When casey saw her she started to sob uncontrollably, without thinking alex quickly got to her and pulled her into her arms.
Casey flinched for a second.
"I tried to fight him off" casey sobbed and alex's heart broke, she felt a tear escaping her own eyes as she kissed her girlfriend on the head.
"I know baby i know" she whispered to her.
---
Alex was worried sick.
It's been months since casey got attacked and raped by the poor excuse of a man and she was slipping away.
She became a lot more angry, suspicious and scared, and the worst part was that she wouldn't adress the situation.
She was frightened by touch, one time a classmate in alex's class touched her arm and she instantly pushed him and left the room- alex wanted to go after her, unfortunately for her being the professor meant that doing that might look suspicious to others.
Luckily for both olivia was quick to do so.
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Mars in Capricorn🧨
I feel like this placement is such a flex and I’m really really jealous of it. These women literally get men who can provide for them and a lot of the time older men that is due to Capricorn being the father the older man figure in a life and the attraction to older men and probably a lot of the time having issues., all these women at one born in their life of being with an older man, and is the man you’re attracted to, I mean let’s go to Anna Nicole Smith, Howard James Marshall, who is literally a billionaire, met her at the strip club, not saying all these women are gold diggers, but they like to have a bag and they can get back, and they get provided for, and I feel like every woman has that right to be provided for man. I generally do maybe it’s because I’m an earth and I have in the 10th., I’m honestly like go go get what you want, I mean Anna and her husband had an arrangement arrangement together, imagine them he’s leaving together he probably would’ve had a heart attack, they had an arrangement and his son didn’t like it, but this man was a billionaire and he wanted a sexy woman on his own and he better than Nicole Smith one of the most beautiful women in the world if not th beautiful.
Then we come to Amber Hood who wanted to make us start in Hollywood for a long time and I believe you went for party party to try and find that way they either are both of these things or one or the other they can fuck their way to the top, now I look at Madison a bit of a side but I still love her, taste older and old before that time, this is why they are attracted to this kind of man. They have serious issues which we found out with Austin the case I don’t know her dad was very close with Johnny, but we don’t know the relationship completely with the dad and her., but she got something with Elon Musk go ahead like men before too long and it’s not Elon Musk Twitter Elon Musk people in the blind item ,world will agree that, Elon and Amber were each other soulmates. Don’t worry Elon features twice in this post. because look at him and Grimes anyway going back to Amber and her child a lot of people agree that Amber‘s child is with Elon because she had her ex frozen when they were together supposedly allegedly. but Grimes of had a long relationship with Elon also and a lot of Elon‘s girls start with Bruno and then go blood but I think Elon likes a crazy man man pixie girl, the edge of them and that they could ruin them any time.
On the list is a very sad one Aaliyah and her relationship with R. Kelly and name – who are both a lot older than her but Dame was a lot closer in age or Kelly obviously did some very inappropriate stuff really and the creep met her when she was 12 through her uncle which makes it even sadder Barry Hanson, a Aaliyah was a Capricorn sun as well and very, she had that hook up with dad as she’s on but I’m jealous of the situation with the money and being built up by a man and having a man that looks after you let’s be honest don’t we all want?, we don’t come on. How nice would it be for a?, And look after you and you didn’t have to worry about a thing., obviously this placement shows up different ways, like I said with Aaliyah she was vulnerable and it naturally came into her life, I with Amber feel it was more sort out the same with Anna.
Lindsay Lohan, who moved to Dubai and has had the most, who dated her maybe apart from Leonardo DiCaprio and Warren?beatty , the oldest profession goes on in the world. She said she moved out there because of the paparazzi hounding her, but I think it was more, away from that too, but also to get towards men with money, Lindsey allegedly has attend to like stealing as well, even though she’s rich, shoplifting or lifting is a rush, another addiction?
I can’t think of the exceptionally massive age group she said, but I’m sure she has some we don’t know of. Samantha Ronson, who I feel is at least 10 years older than her,.
Holly Madison, holy Madison had a relationship with you having, she was in the Playboy mansion and she became the number one girlfriend, do you see what I mean and the Playboy secrets?, Many of Hughes friends have said that she loved it at the time and then she became the opposite, and now she does a podcast talking about Playboy she hasn’t stepped away from it so she still making money from it from some degree if you Hefner, I’m saying that that’s bad. I’m just saying the obvious..
Traumatised for many years, I’ve noticed with these people we don’t see dad at all in their lives actually if I think of all these people, maybe Michael Lohan and of course Lindsey is going to have daddy issues with a man like that.
Drew Barrymore, Barrymore may not, have been with older people, but she went out with Eric out of hole , and hung around with Courtney Love when she was literally literally just, she was also partying in studio 54 when she was very very young, hanging around with people much older than her, and doing drugs and very young age. Around these people had died she had a very trauma, he was a drug addict and an alcoholic, was famous and become lineage of famous people in Hollywood.
We have the Olsen, and talk about Mary Kate Olsen, with Oliviar, They had a huge age gap. She even looked like one of his children she was even shorter than one of his children. I, it looked really creepy another person who’s not in the college here is Amanda Bynes and we know what happened there., know quiet on set .
And then, obviously you have Catherine Jones he’s been with Michael Douglas like forever , obviously many decades older than her. I just think it’s a placement I’d like to brag about it obviously has its , have my mars in the 10th house , and let’s talk about men with this placement Brad Pitt , Shia LaBeouf , and how they all a bit dodgy , and I’ve been all over the place with women
. Who allegedly did stuff with Michael Bay who is very abusive?, To her and they fell out., very casting couch,
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imoncloud7 · 2 months
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part 4;
prev. | m.list | next
。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ 。˚︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ 。˚︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊
written portion at the end!!
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"god fuckin' damnit." yn sighed as she put her phone down. she was currently in her last lecture of the day, contemplating how she got into this mess. and how all of her friends suddenly knew oikawa tooru. and how he found her twitter and followed it.
yn had met matsukawa issei in their last term during their first year of school, and while they were not too close, they did have one thing in common. they loved to go out. their drunk escapades slowly began to include mattsun's not-boyfriend-but-boyfriend makki, and they all slowly began to get a bit closer.
being that all of their friends were intertwined, it would be a matter of time before they all figured out what was going on between oikawa and yn. their hookups have surprisingly pre-dated all of yn's friendships in college, which have been difficult to come by. being from another country and also an introvert were really big roadblocks.
oikawa never seemed to care about that though. the first night they met, during their first term in their first year, he had approached her at some sort of welcome party an older student was throwing. yn had quickly figured out that he was a chronic flirter, but had enough alcohol in her system to go home with him. which ended up happening every weekend of the first year, and now second year as well. it was nice for yn to have physical contact, as that was hard to come by now having broken up with her ex and being that she had close to no friends in japan. it was a distraction, something that satisfied her needs with no feelings.
these days however, now that he knows more than just her first name and how to please her, it's too complicated. and wildly uncomfortable.
flashback: 1st term, 1st year
"smoking's not a good look on such a pretty face like yours" yn heard behind her on the balcony. the inside was stuffy and the music felt like it was eating her eardrums alive, so she had made her way outside for some peace and quiet. only for it to be disturbed.
"oh yeah? and who are you to have an opinion on that?" the girl looked over her shoulder to see who was behind her. she was met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and windswept hair to match.
oikawa thinks his heart may have stopped when she turned to look at him. he had seen her inside and thought she was pretty, sure, but out here was a different story. the moonlight caused her e/c eyes to glow, and her hair seemed so much softer out here. his eyes widened a bit and he choked on his words a bit before responding.
"im oikawa. oikawa tooru. and sorry, truthfully i couldn't think of another way to approach you." he walked up towards the edge of the balcony, taking his place to her right. she took a long drag before offering it towards him wordlessly.
"no thanks, i'm an athlete i can't really do that stuff."
"but you're at a party, clearly intoxicated. i wonder what your coach would think of that." she shot back.
"touche. you never told me your name." he chuckled in his response.
"yn."
。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ 。˚︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ 。˚︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊
notes:
the "smokings not a good look on you" line was actually used on me
i was at a club in singapore and an old man (maybe like 50-60 yrs old) literally started talking to me while i had a cig in my hand like go away u creep im 20
he texted me on whatsapp later abt that like mind ur business
idk why i gave him my number tbh i just wanted to see if hed buy me drinks
anyways i love matsukawa issei (whats new)
little flashback moment to when their whole affair started!!
either the next chapter or the next two chapters shi may go down
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yourkimjaejin · 7 months
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Burn Marks
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They had told her to be careful. 
After a successful three days in Seoul, two days in Japan then the show two days ago in Madrid, AG had finally made it back to Paris. It had been years since the girls were in the city of love for Breakthrough’s music video shoot. This time, thankfully, no creepy guys or horrible managers were in sight. 
The members got to enjoy a day on the town before a stage rehearsal later that night. Immediately, Moxy and Aurora dragged their other members through the streets until they reached Miss Eve’s bakery. The older woman was beyond happy to see the girls again, this time all grown up. Juno and Hannah understood why the youngest member couldn’t stop talking about the pastries. They all tasted heavenly. While eating, they filled Miss Eve in on what had been going on since she saw them last. They even brought more posters and memorabilla to line the bakeries walls.
“I know you all getting big. Every year, more and more fans stop to admire my posters. I tell them ‘I meet AG before becoming famous.” Miss Eve's bragging had the girls falling out of their seats. 
Before they left, the girls invited Miss Eve to come to the concert, her eyes light up in excitement, “I bring niece! She big fan.” Miss Eve wouldn’t let them leave without bringing more food for their staff at the venue. The girls waved at Miss Eve as the car pulled off. 
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It’s been a long rehearsal. AG would be lucky to be in bed by 3am. Being at a smaller venue meant, readjusting every single performance so they stayed safe. Fortunately, the end was in sight. The director wanted to run through five more songs, but first was Cannonball. In the Seoul stadium, Cannonball had huge balls of fire going off all around the stage. Because of the size the girls were free to run wild. In smaller stadiums, everything was shifted and restricted for the girls' safety. The director would rather be safe than sorry especially with Hannah and Aurora since they were closest to the pyro. 
Everything was going smoothly until they spread out for the second verse of the song. Everyone was tired. The lethargy creeping into their bones had everyone acting silly in an attempt to make it through the song Aurora was jumping along with her group of dancers near the left of the stage. None of them paid attention to how close they had gotten the pyro until it was too late. The maknae flung her arm out just as her previously recorded voice screams “Let’s Go!” into the empty arena. 
Aurora smelt it first. She couldn’t place the exact smell nor could Aurora describe it. Can one really explain the smell of burning. 
Then the pain set in. 
Aurora's terrified scream halted everyone. Her three older members all flinched at the sound, taking a moment to realize that sound came from Aurora before they surrounded her. Encircling her between them. 
“What happened?”
“Aurora what hurts?”
“Do you need a doctor?” 
Somebody's finger grazed the burn spot on her arms causing another shrill scream to echo around the venue. “It hurts unnie, it hurts.” Aurora whimpered, clutching her arm close to her chest. Hannah catches the eye of their leader nodding her head toward backstage. Nodding, Moxy takes off to find the doctor. Without prompt, Juno turns her attention to the dancers.
“Did you see what happened?” Juno asked. One of them, a female dancer that has been with AG for years, nodded. 
“I guess we got too close to the pyro. Aurora-ssi flung her arm out just as the fire went off. Her arm was only in it for a second, Could that much damage happen that fast?” The dancer asked. 
“I’ll be able to tell you in a moment.” The voice of the on-site doctor answered as Moxy followed behind him. He walked onto the stage with his first aid kit toward the two girls and kneeled down in front of them. 
“Hi Aurora-ssi. It’s nice to meet you. I had hoped it wouldn’t be this soon but that's neither here nor there. I’m Doctor Choi and I’ll be traveling with you for the duration of your tour.” Doctor Choi placed his first aid kit in front of the quartet, opening it so they all could see inside. 
“Now Aurora, Moxy-ssi has informed me that you’ve burned yourself on the pyro. Could I see your arm? I won’t even touch it. I just need to see how serious the burn is to determine if you need to go to hospital..” Aurora looked to her unnies first. At Moxy’s nod, she held her forearm out in front of them for Doctor Choi to examine. Compared to her complexion, the burn mark stood out. The skin had turned red, some places puffed up and bumpy. 
“Good news, Aurora-ssi doesn’t need a hospital but we do need to move her backstage for me to treat her.” Doctor Choi closed his case and stood up. Worry grew between all four girls.
“Why backstage?” Hannah asked while helping Aurora stand without putting pressure on the younger arm. The doc was already walking to the back, the members forced to follow. 
“Because she has second degree burns. They need to be treated properly and I don’t have all the supplies in need in my bag..” At the doctor’s answer, four pairs of footsteps sped up. Doctor Choi led them to his makeshift treatment room and enlisted the girls' help in patching up Aurora's arm. 
Through each step he explained what he was doing and why. First, they rinsed the burn under cool water. “This’ll get the pain to stop.” Next, Doctor Choi had Hannah gently wash the area to disinfect it. Pangs of hurt ripple thru the older girls every time their maknae hissed in pain. 
Then, as carefully as he could, the doctor spread petroleum jelly across the entire burn. “This is to keep the area hydrated while it heals. I’ll also get some gauze with petroleum jelly already on it.” Lastly, Doctor Choi wrapped the burn snug enough not to move while Aurora dances but not tight enough to hurt. 
“Now, as long as you wash it every day and keep the wound hydrated with an ointment or more petroleum jelly, the burn should heal in three to four weeks. You’ll have to wear the gauze during performances though. If that’s all, I’d suggest Aurora-ssi sit out the rest of the rehearsal." Before she could argue, Moxy agreed. 
“Actually, we're all heading back to the hotel until closer to showtime.” 
Aurora shook her head, “Unnie we had four more songs to run through.” 
“Four song rehearsals don’t take priority over your health. Thank you for your help Doctor Choi.” Moxy bowed while Hannah pushed the group out the door, through the stadium  and to the parking lot where a car was already waiting for them. 
The ride back was quiet, all the girls were rocked physically and emotionally from what happened to Aurora but nobody felt that more than the maknae herself. Now that the painkillers were kicking in, the pain was ebbing away. But the sight of her bandaged forearm was an ugly reminder of what happened. Finally the familiar front of their hotel greeted their eyes. Slowly, all four women dragged their bodies through the ornate lobby to the elevators. The maknae knew after everything that had happened, there was no way her unnies would leave her alone. But she just wanted a second to process. Aurora tugged on her leader’s sleeve. She mouthed the words, Code: Alone Time. Migyeong pursed her lips but nodded, everyone in NCT respected the codes. When the elevator opened, Moxy herded Juno and Hannah to her room leaving Aurora to enter hers. There was a bit of push back but one look silenced them. Aurora closed the door and flopped onto her bed finally able to breathe. 
With nothing else to do, Aurora took a nap, taking care not to lay on her bandaged arm.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 
Aurora didn’t know how long she was asleep until she felt fingers running through her hair, gently undoing the slight tangles. Aurora could tell it was Hannah. Her other members weren’t ones for gentle wake up calls. 
“Eunji-ah? You awake?” Hannah murmured. Her fingers were pulling away but the maknae pushed her head back into her unnie’s palm. A soft smile grew on Hannah’s face, fingers continuing their mission. It was rare for Aurora to let her maknae tendencies loose. 
“You gotta get up. It’s time to head to the venue.” The elder got a hum in response but neither moved to get up. Hannah wasn’t in a hurry to rush the younger singer. Aurora was strong but that didn’t mean she was immune to shock or pain. If she wasn’t ready then they’d postpone until Aurora was. 
“I wanna inform the fans…about what happened.” she sat up, stroking her arm softly, “I don’t want them to worry when they see this bandage tonight.” 
Hannah reached over ruffling Aurora hair, “I think we can make that happen. But first we gotta visit the doc and get that gauze changed.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello this is SM Entertainment, We’re here to inform the fans of a minor injury update. At the rehearsal for NCT AG’s concert in Paris tonight, Aurora sustained a minor burn on her arm. She is okay and has been treated already. Aurora has also chosen to perform tonight and will keep her arm wrapped until the injury heals completely.  Aurora is okay and urges fans to ease their worries and enjoy the show. We wish Aurora a speedy recovery and good luck for the concert tonight. 
Comments:
Not Aurora!!! Glad they said she chose to perform Omo!! I hope she’s okay How the heck did she get burned during rehearsal Paris czennies!! Cheer extra loud for our maknae tonight.
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First part of the Tour!Angst is in the books!!!! I hope you all liked it. I've been writing these since last year so I hope they live up to the work I've put in. Next up is Moxy so until then have a great day!! ~ Author Izzy
Taglist: @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite / @sunflower-0180
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assortedseaglass · 1 year
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Recollections - A Seamstress and the Sailor Story
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Request:  I was thinking very generally and vaguely about either Billy and Ida or Bess and Tom, something about how the romance started? As in... How the soft feelings and affection built up during their teenage years, the pining, the mutual comfort from one another, just spending time together every day being friendly? Just... I want the sweet teenage romance fluff ya know? The deep friendship, the love that they have for one another when we meet them and how it started. @annoying-leftist-donkey
Tom Bennett x Bess Vaughn (OFC)
Warnings: Language, one teeny smutty thought, very minor spoilers for The Seamstress and The Sailor if you haven’t read that.
Word Count: 3.9K
Southport, 1925
“We blame it on a tough week at work, or too much going on at home, but children know. They’re more connected to the earth than we are,”
Tom turned in his seat when he heard his father mention children. Next to Douglas, Marie Bennett was repacking the picnic basket.
“They can sense changes in the weather and all that,” Douglas waved to the sky beyond the bus’ dirty windows. “S’why they’re agitated today. Spring tides. The moon,”
“Alright, Papus,” Tom’s mother smiled at her husband and, with delicate touch, biffed Tom’s nose with a napkin. “Nosy,” He stuck his tongue out and turned back to face the front. Albie Vaughn, with his scabbed and spindly legs, sat next to him, busying his hands with the hair of the two girls in front of them. Lois Bennett and Cora Vaughn were ten and too old to engage with their younger siblings. That is, until they got to the beach at least. When Albie finished tying the girls’ pigtails to each other, he nudged Tom in the ribs and they laughed. From a seat across the aisle, a pair of dark eyes watched the boys.
“Bess Vaughn, what have I told you?” Etta swatted at her daughter’s legs from the seat behind her and the little girl swung her legs down, eyes still focussed on her brother and his friend.
“What?” Albie said.
“Nothing,” Bess’ voice was quiet, and Tom stared at her. There was something about Bess Vaughn that gave him the creeps. Before he could ruminate on why, the bus juddered to a stop and Fergal Vaughn jumped from his seat.
“Take the baskets down for you mothers, lads,” Fergal said, hoisting little Dot into his arms. Lois and Cora whinged as Douglas struggled to untie their hair, and Bess followed her mother and Marie towards the beach. She’d overheard Douglas, telling Marie all about the weather, and how people became agitated when it changed. He was right, too, about the spring tide. The faintest slash of silver was visible on the horizon, a barely there strip of receding sea at the edge of miles of sand. The boys instantly dumped the picnic baskets by the sand dunes and sprinted after Cora and Lois, their shrieks rising into the grey April sky. Fergal unfolded a chair and perched upon it, Dot babbling away on his knee. Beside him, Marie, Etta and Douglas lay a blanket, and when the women were seated upon the sand, Douglas made his slow way towards the water, shoes off, trousers rolled up, hands in pockets. Bess watched the boys chase her older sister and Lois, and Douglas strolling towards the horizon. She decided to follow him.
After an hour of chasing the others, Tom ran to the edge of the dunes. Cora was it, and too slow to catch either him or Albie, making do to run after Lois. He plucked an apple from the picnic blanket and blew a raspberry at Dot, making her giggle.
“Where’s dad?” Marie answered with a point at the sea. There, silhouetted against the glistening water, were two figures. One tall, stooping every now and again to point at something, the other small, collecting whatever the other passed to them. Apple in hand, Tom sprinted along the flat sand, dodged Cora’s attempt to tag him, and towards his father. Bess saw him coming before Douglas, and stood still to watch him. Her stare caught Tom off guard and he faltered, his run becoming an awkward walk. They watched each other a moment.
“What are you doing, dad?”
Douglas smiled at him then at Bess. He nodded his head at her, some sort of encouragement to speak. When she didn’t, he answered. “I’m teaching Bess about the shells and the creatures that live in them.”
Bess held out her hand to show Tom the shell in her palm. “Dog whelk,” was all she said.
“Right,” God, she’s weird. “Well, um, do you want to come and play it with the rest of us? It’s getting a bit boring with Lois and Cora, they’re rubbish.” And he’s my dad, not yours.
“No,” Bess went back to staring at the collection of shells Douglas had given her.
“Go on,”
“Leave her alone, Tom,” Douglas’ voice was soft, his eyes back to scouring the sand for treasures.
“But she never plays, I’m just trying to be nice!” He stepped forward.
“And you can’t force people to play with you,” Douglas turned a rock over in his hand. Tom huffed and grabbed Bess’ arm.
“Come on,” he dragged her towards their siblings.
“Tom-” Douglas had no time to admonish his son before Bess did it for him, sinking her teeth into the flesh of his arm. “Bess!” Tom howled, tears pricking his eyes as he lunged at the little girl. Douglas pulled his son away just in time, his hand wrapped around his son’s scrawny arm. With he other, he took Bess by the hand and marched them back up the beach. “You two can sit with your mams for the rest of the day.” Both children made to protest but he cut them off. “And if I see anymore of that behaviour, from either of you, you’ll be on the first bus home.” Behind his back, Tom and Bess scowled at each other.
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St Thomas’ Secondary, 1929
The bell rang, and Bess’ heart sank. She’d spent the last hour hiding behind the bicycle rack, leant against the wooden fence that separated the secondary school from the primary. She peered through the wooden slats, and saw Dot running to class, hand in hand with her friends. Bess sighed and stood up; if she timed it just right she could wait for the others to go inside and still be on time for history. At least being V in the alphabet meant she was sat at the back of the class, and the others would forget she was there. They never usually bothered her when Cora was around, just gave her funny looks. But Cora was at home in bed with a head cold, sadly refusing Bess’ pleas to “just get up and try.”
She watched as the other children filtered through the wooden double doors, Mrs Keith ringing the bell in her hand that called them to lessons. Queenie Warren’s golden curls bounced in the afternoon sunlight, and a pang of jealousy prodded Bess’ insides. The last to go were Frank Smith and Walter Watson. Bess saw their eyes dart around the playground before disappearing behind Mrs Keith. With everyone inside, this was her chance. She ran across the playground as quickly as her little legs would take her, ready to join the queue filing into classroom six. The skirt of Queenie’s dress was just fluttering through the classroom doorway when Bess tripped, her face hitting the book she was carrying as she landed on the ground.
“Where’ve you been then?” The boy’s voice wasn’t kind, or curious. It was tight, teasing, smug.
“She’s a witch, Frank. Remember? She can make herself disappear.” Walter stood over her, one leg either side of her torso, preventing her from standing.
“Wish she would. Her and her whole Paddy family.”
“Please,” Bess’ voice quavered as she spoke, trying to push down the skirt that had ridden up in her fall.
“Been saving this for you.” Walter said, producing from his satchel a carton of milk from the canteen. “You Micks always reek of dirt and incense, what’s another bad smell?” And he poured the sour liquid over Bess’ copper hair.
She whimpered, mouth tight to avoid the rotten milk as she struggled to wipe it from her eyes. There was a dull thud as something hit the floor beside her, and whatever it was groaned. Looking tentatively sideways, Bess saw Walter Watson on his side, looking up in nervous apprehension. She followed his gaze. Frank was cowering against the wall and next to him was Tom Bennett. He said nothing, only stared down at the boy on the floor.
Bess rarely saw Tom these days, aside from the back of his head in class. He’d taken to skipping lessons, only appearing for sports or undoubtedly the few days after his dad had caught him skiving. Tom had hardened since Marie’s death, the plucky friend of her brother making way for the rebel stood above her. At just twelve, his face was already sharp, his shoulders beginning to fill out as teenagedom approached, and his piercing eyes already bore signs of that most adult emotion; weariness. His grief had not been gentle. Tom was always popular at school, but now he was intimidating.
The four children stared between each other, Tom’s eyes not once leaving Walter’s. When Frank stood forward to offer an explanation, Tom slammed him into the wall with surprising force.
“It’s ok,” Bess wobbled to her feet and brushed her damp hair from her eyes. “I’m ok.” Tom watched her a minute, before releasing Frank and glaring down at Walter.
“You so much as look at her, at any of us, I’ll put you in the Infirmary.”
Walter nodded and scrambled from the floor, Frank in his wake. They ducked into classroom six, and Bess and Tom were alone. She watched the floor, embarrassed of her milk-sodden hair and her rescue by Tom.
“I’d better, you know-” she gestured to her face.
“I’ll tell miss where you are,”
“And don’t tell the others, please.” Tom nodded and watched Bess hurry to the girls’ bathroom. He didn’t see her again until 3 o’clock, when she was leant against the school gates. Somehow, she didn’t seem as nervous as normal and Tom smiled, knowing that he might have something to do with it. Her hair was wrapped in the Miss Abbott’s, the librarian’s, scarf, and she gave a small wave to him as he approached.
“How’s your hair?” he asked, noting only the faintest whiff of dairy about her.
“Washed it in the sink, Miss Abbott said I can keep the scarf.” She beamed, though Tom knew the scarf was less of a gift, more a case of not wanted the ruined garment back. He nodded and began his walk home.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Albie?” Bess called, not moving from her sentinel at the gate.
“His got lines with Mr Hughes,” Tom called over his shoulder. Bess tutted and hurried to meet his steps, standing a step away from him than perhaps was natural. They walked together a while, Bess silent and Tom chatting to friends as they departed for their homes. It wasn’t until they rounded into their street that she found her voice.
“Thank you, for earlier.”
“S’fine.” Tom kicked a stone before laughing. “Why didn’t you bite him?”
“Pardon?” Bess stopped outside her front door.
“Walter. Why didn’t you bite him?”
“I-well-”
“You bit me when you got angry,” he smirked.
“I was eight!”
“Would have come in handy back there,”
“I don’t want to bite Walter Watson, I’ll catch something,” she gravely, wrinkling her nose. With a loud laugh, Tom waved and strolled across the street to his own home.
“See you tomorrow, Bess.”
“Yeah, bye.”
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St Thomas’ Cemetery, 1933
“-thinks the sun shines out her arse, and I know you’d hate me saying that but it’s true. She can’t do any bloody wrong in his eyes.”
Tom picked up a branch of fallen yew and thwacked the foxglove looming from the ground of the next grave. He’d been coming down to visit his mother a lot recently. Bess told him about it, how when she was sad or angry, she’d come down and talk to Etta. Sometimes she and her sisters brought picnics and blankets, sat by her grave and spent an hour chatting together. He glanced across the graveyard to where Etta lay. The Vaughn’s last offerings of brandy and flowers were gathering crisp leaves. Looking at the small posey of flowers he’d stolen from other people’s gardens, he swiped the branch of yew through the long grass. Compared to the effort the Vaughn’s gave to Etta, his offering was pitiful.
“FUCK!” Again and again he thrashed the foliage, sending pollen and leaves into the evening air. When there was nothing but tombstones left to hit, Tom launched the branch across the cemetery. “FUCK!” The word tore from his throat, causing it to crack. He flung himself on the ground at the foot of his mother’s grave and wept.
Sometimes, he thought his mum and Albie were the only people that understood him, but with Albie still deep in the grief of losing Etta, Tom found he had no one to turn to. The five years anniversary of Marie’s death hit Douglas hard, and his relationship with his son had been fraught ever since. Tom thought it was his father’s timidity, Lois’ seeming perfection, Tom’s inability to commit to any one thing that caused the friction. What he didn’t realise was that each time Douglas looked at his son, he saw his wife. The same passion, same loyalty, same quick temper. Tom cried and cried, brushing angrily at his face in a feeble attempt to wipe away the traitorous tears. If she’d have been here, his mum would have made a joke about Douglas’ humour bypass and rubbed Tom’s back until he was calm. If he tried hard enough, he could feel the warmth of her hand on his shoulder. The grass rustled at his side and he looked up.
Bess was wading through the overgrown cemetery towards Etta, a long piece of string stretching between she and him. Attached to the string, glinting in the sunlight, she’d dropped a tin can by his knee. When Tom looked back to Bess, she was already sat at Etta’s grave, holding up her own tin can and smiling. He sniffled and held it to his ear. She said nothing, only smiled.
He watched her while she spoke to Etta and tidied her grave, replacing the flowers and dusting off the brandy bottle. She gave the gravestone a gentle kiss and walked back to Tom. He patted goodbye to his mother and met her in the centre of the cemetery, under the ancient yew. As was always her way, she stared at him before speaking, her way of assessing which step to take in conversation. Bess took in his red eyes and furrowed brow, the fidgeting that always happened when he was angry, like he was fizzing with energy.
“Was it a bad one?”
“Not really,” Tom sniffed and she watched as his lips twitched into a pout. She licked her own. “Just dad being dad, you know. Wishes I was the one gone, not mam-”
“Shut up. You know that’s not true.” Bess’ voice was harsh, a new development in her growing confidence, but one that Tom admired. He watched as she wound the string around the tin cans.
“Thanks for that,” he pointed to them.
“S’ok, wanted you to know you’re not alone. We’ve forgotten, me and the others, just because your grief has been longer, it doesn’t make it easier than ours.” Tom never knew what to say when Bess came out with her moments of profundity. She didn’t say much but when she did, God, she knew what you needed to hear. Bess Vaughn had a knack for rendering him speechless. “I got this done for you, too.” From her dress pocket she pulled a key. “So you can stop climbing through the window. Dadda’d kill you if he found you in a bedroom with his three daughters.”
Tom snorted. “What will he say if he catches me having a late-night tryst with his most reliable daughter?”
“We do not have ‘trysts’,” Bess began walking from the graveyard and Tom followed. “’Reliable’? God, how boring. Is that all I am?”
“Dependable, then? How about that?”  
“I sound like a piece of furniture,”
“You’ve got the legs for it-” Tom broke off with a laugh as Bess hit his arm. “Violence in the churchyard! Don’t let Father Michael see.”
“Says the one swearing and beating up the plants,”
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Longsight Labour Club, 1939
“I heard that Bess is coming back today? She could give me a break on the keys,” Connie shuffled her sheet music and watched as Cora and Dot strung bunting from the light fixtures. Owing to her nights singing at the Labour Club, Lois had secured the small hall for her birthday. A table of cream tea was at its centre, the trestle tables ready to be whipped away for an evening of dancing.
“That she is,” Cora said from atop the ladder as Dot fed her bunting. “Perfect timing for you, Lois.”
“Not just for me,” Lois stood at the bar watching her friends’ handiwork. Little did they know that the comment was not directed at them, but her brother. She winked at him and Tom raised his eyebrows. He and Albie were cleaning glasses behind the bar, laughing occasionally at their sisters as they struggled to reach the rafters.
“She’s had a good time then? At the atelier?” Connie asked them.
“God, yeah,” Dot said, lightly slapped by Cora for her language. “She’s got all these fancy clothes and rich clients. And she gives me her copies of Vogue when she’s done with them.”
Connie looked impressed. “Might have to get her to send me some too.”
“She even makes their patterns now. Promised to sew me a new summer suit.”
“If you pay for the fabric,” Cora cut in.
“Better start saving then, my girl.” Fergal had arrived with some of the older residents of the street. Over the next twenty minutes, people of all walks of life trickled into the hall. Mrs Flaherty and Mrs O’Connell, Mrs Mason and her brood of offspring. Queenie Warren who immediately ran to Albie and Tom. Even Harry Chase and some of his private school chums. Tom and Albie looked at each other pointedly as the group of young men approached the bar.
“If it’s brandy and cigars you’re after, lads, the Con Club’s your best bet. You’d be more welcome there too.” Tom muttered the last sentence under his breath and Albie laughed.
“Tom,” Harry held out a placating hand which Tom shook a little too roughly. From behind them, one of Harry’s friends whistled lowly.
“I might consider voting the other way if the reds attract that kind of woman.” The gaggle of men, Tom included, looked to the door. His mouth ran dry. The light pouring into the hall illuminated perfectly elegant cut of her dress and the sway of her hips. He could see, through the white fabric, the faintest outline of her legs and he swallowed with difficulty.
Each man jolted when a shrill cry rang out through the air. Dot was careening towards her older sister, Cora close behind. Having greeted her siblings, Bess made her way towards Lois, and Tom was absolutely cunt-struck. When she left for her apprenticeship at the atelier, Bess still hid herself from strangers. She kept her eyes averted from others. Now, she moved with graceful purpose and her eyes, though still dark, shone with self-assuredness. She knew the effect she had on the room, and Tom felt his cock twitch at the power she held.
“That’s my sister you’re staring at.”
Tom turned his head slowly towards Albie, his eyes slightly unfocussed. When his friend frowned, Tom smirked.
“Wouldn’t you love me as a brother? Anyway, she could do worse,”
“She could do a lot better and all,” Albie gave him a warning look and turned back to the bar. When Tom looked back across the crowd, momentary terror washed over him. Bess, in all her white-clad and gorgeous glory, was heading towards him. Suddenly he felt underdressed in his shirt and threadbare jacket.
“Hi,” What sort of wet fucking hello was that?
“A glass of white please, barkeep.” Bess smiled at him as she leant against the wooden bar. Behind her, Harry’s friends were agog that she was speaking to him. Confidence bloomed in his chest and Tom stood a little straighter.
“Anything else the lady wishes?” Tom reached overhead for a wine glass, not missing the way Bess’ eyes watched the muscles of his arm.
“You working the bar all night?”
“Depends if my sister lets me off. Perhaps the birthday mood might strike her right.” He poured the wine, still feeling Bess’ eyes on him. If she had become a woman during her time in central Manchester, Tom had become a man. His shoulders were tight in the jacket he wore, its collar open just enough for Bess to see the muscles of his strong neck. She traced it upwards with her eyes. The underside of his jaw was sharp, his pink lips casting a small shadow on his sharp chin. His brow furrowed as he poured her drink, and Bess wanted nothing more than to lean across the bar and kiss the small wrinkle that had formed there.
“I hope so,” she sipped her wine and licked her lips. “We have so much to catch up on.” With a smile and nod to the other young men, Bess strolled towards the table of cream tea, perched next to her siblings and engaged in conversation with the older women, each eager to know about her time at the fashion house. When she looked up to see Tom watching still her, her dark eyes flashed with mischief, and she winked. In his pocket, Tom’s hand thumbed the key to the Vaughn’s house.
“Fuck me,”
Notes: I said I’d wait until Borne & Bound was out there, but my head ran away with me. I’m splitting the request into two so there will be a Billy and Ida follow up.
Each little scene was referenced somewhere in the plot of TSATS, and I enjoyed fleshing them out to show why they were so meaningful to Tom and Bess! Papus, mentioned by Tom’s mum, was a famous mystic. Royal Infirmary was a hospital and asylum in Manchester.
Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @heimtathurs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @ewanmitchellcrumbs @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring
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libraryledge · 3 months
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A Wild Ride (A Story Inspired by The Bikeriders)
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Author's Note: Last week, I watched the film, "The Bikeriders" and highly recommend it. I was inspired to write a short story about Benny and Kathy, without major spoilers from the film. Enjoy!
It had been a long time since I'd had a night out. I was a busy gal, usually running errands or tending to matters at home. It wasn't like I was unhappy, it was more like I felt unfulfilled. I needed this night out, but my friend's decision to meet up at a sketchy bar was not my typical definition of fun. 
First of all, I wasn't a drinker. I didn't mind when others drank, but I could not stomach liquor. Secondly, this bar was filled to the brim with creeps. From the moment I set foot inside, I could feel the unavoidable male gaze on every inch of my body.
When I finally made my way to the table where my friend was sitting, I was overcome by a wave of relief.
“Geez! Could this place be any creepier?” I asked with exasperation. As soon as the words left my mouth, a guy at least 10 years older than me approached me and gave me a toothy grin.
“Hey pretty darlin’, mind if I take you out tonight?” he asked without shame of his putrid beer breath.
“Ugh! Yes, I do mind. Now let me be!” I said diverting my attention back to my friend. However, she was engrossed in a conversation with a man in the biker jacket. I assumed that he was part of the riding club, based on his attire. 
I sighed and allowed my eyes to wander around the room. Everywhere I looked men were either smoking, drinking, swearing, or doing all three simultaneously.
Eventually, my wandering eyes landed upon a young man who was playing at the pool table. He had a lean build, but his arm were very muscular. He seemed to be avoiding the hullabaloo of the crowd, and his sole intention appeared to be winning at the game in front of him.
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Suddenly, he looked up from the table, and for a brief second, we made eye contact. I quickly looked away to avoid looking like a creep myself. 
I turned toward my friend who was still talking a mile a minute with the biker guy. I nudged her. 
“Who is that?” I asked, lowering my voice to avoid being overheard.
My friend looked up and gave me a quizzical look. “That's Benny. He visits here often and is a motorcycle enthusiast. You don't want to cross paths with him," she replied, giving me a side-eyed glance.
“Why not?” I asked, wondering what kind of history this mysterious man had.
“Don’t take it personally. It’s the advice I’d give to anyone. No gal wants to be caught dead with him. He's a reckless driver. One ride on his bike, and you can kiss your hopes and dreams goodbye,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, before diverting her attention back to the biker man.
With a twinge of annoyance, I turned my gaze back towards the pool table only to see that it was empty. Benny was gone.
The night droned on. My friend got drunker and drunker by the moment, and by her fourth drink, I’d had enough. I made up an excuse about needing to tend to some matters at home, and I made my quick escape.
The night air was chilly and unsettling. I knew that it was stupid to walk home alone in the middle of the night, but did I really have a choice? Just as I was about to begin my journey home, I heard the door to the bar open behind me. Benny walked outside and lit a cigarette. I knew that he saw me, but he didn't interact with me, which I assumed was because he wanted to give me space rather than because he wanted to be disrespectful. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, and normally it would have bothered me, but for some reason it didn't disturb me.
I continued walking, but didn't get very far because a large group of drunk and rowdy bikers came bounding out of the bar. I picked up the pace, but wasn't fast enough. 
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They spotted me, and the smelly old beer guzzler, who attempted to flirt with me earlier, cornered me with an obnoxiously pleased look. 
“Hey little lady! Thought you could dash off without a good night kiss?” he said, with a nauseating sneer.
I swore at him and told him to get lost. I managed to escape from his path, only to come face to face with another equally as revolting biker.
“Ah! Can't you tell that she doesn't want to see your ugly face?” he snorted in amusement.
“Go screw yourself!” I yelled at him and began speed walking in the opposite direction, towards Benny, who was now sitting upon an older motorcycle.  I assumed it was his by the way he gently positioned his palms upon the handlebars.
Benny made eye contact with me as if to silently say, “Are you alright?” I watched as he steadied himself upon the front of the bike, leaving an open space behind him on the seat.
The men were approaching me, and I could hear them hooting and hollering. My eyes darted back towards Benny, and it was at that moment that I decided to push aside any hesitation and go for it. Despite not having any liquor in my system, I felt the electricity of a person, whose courage was being powered by one too many drinks.
I hopped onto the back of Benny's motorcycle and whispered in his ear, “I live at 44228 Russo Lane. Please, I need a ride home.”
A surprise look crossed Benny's tanned face, but it slowly morphed into one of amusement.
“Alright then. Hold on tight. I'm not known to take it easy,” he said with a chuckle.
Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his back and secured my grip around his torso. Benny revved up the engine, and I felt the motor rumble below me.
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I had no idea what was driving the sudden rebellion inside of me, but it was certainly worth it to see the flabbergasted looks upon the faces of the other bikers as I rode away with my arms wrapped around Benny.
“So long boys. Hasta la vista!” I shouted over my shoulder, as we bolted out of the bar’s parking lot.
I felt the wind rushing through my hair as Benny  picked up speed and we went bounding down the street.
"Do I get to know your name?” Benny asked, over the thundering engine.
I let out a loud laugh. “Kathy,” I said, feeling the adrenaline build up in my chest.
“Kathy. That’s a beautiful name. Now hold on tight. I don't want to be the last person you introduce yourself to," he replied.
I chuckled. At least he was aware of the reputation he carried. Somehow, I wasn't afraid. Maybe it was the crisp scent of his cologne mixed with smoke that put me at ease.
I tightened my grip around him and replied, "I guess that's the risk I take for hitching a ride with a stranger.”
Benny let out a hearty laugh. “Darn right!” he exclaimed.
I had never ridden on a motorcycle, but I always admired those who made it seem so effortless. Bob Dylan, Marlon Brando, and even James Dean couldn't rival the charisma that Benny oozed as we rode into the night.
Eventually, we pulled up in front of my driveway, and as the motor slowed, my heartbeat quickened. I carefully made my way off of the bike and was now standing on the sidewalk in front of my house, positioned face to face with Benny.
“Well, I guess you made it home in one piece," he said with a teasing look in his eyes.
“Thank you. That wouldn’t have been the case if I lingered around that bar any longer,” I replied gratefully. “I swear I don't make a habit out of hitching rides with strangers.”
Benny grinned mischievously. “I hope after this I won't remain a stranger.”
Something about the way he said that lit a fire in me. “No, you're right. I don't think that will do," I responded, matching his playful tone.
Benny grinned. “Tomorrow, I’m meeting a few guys over at the abandoned lot, behind the town center. I could pick you up if you don't mind your life flashing before your eyes again,” he joked.
“You really know how to treat a gal,” I replied with a smile.
“I try,” he responded with a grin, as he started the engine, gave me a small wave, and went rumbling down the street once more.
I watched as he disappeared into the darkness. My night started off with a horrible social outing, surrounded by idiots. Somehow, amidst the chaos, I found comfort in a lonely bike rider, and I decided to trust him. Maybe I had a desire for rebellion, or maybe I was yearning for romance, but all I knew was that if I followed Benny, I was in for a wild ride.
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bygracealonegirly · 5 months
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The anniversary of my brother's death is coming up, and 3 years later I'm shocked at how the grief can creep up and swallow me still. If I think about him more than in passing I still weep. I'm still overwhelmed by the absence of his belly laugh and mischievous grin. I still feel rage creep up when I think about how unfair it all is; his 3 young children were too small to have personal memories of him, and must subsist on what we show and tell them. His beloved wife only got 5 years with him total - some people get 60. Our view into God's plan is so narrow, I know, I really do, but still, why him?
CJ was something else. A real gen-u-ine cowboy. Tough hands, crinkly eyes, and an ever present grin. Quite the dancer. A heck of a card player. An even better choir singer. He was never short on jokes or belly laughs. The best darn bow hunting partner I'll ever have. And gosh he loved his wife; the sun rose and set on her from the moment they memorably met (she slapped his rear end on a dare during a rodeo and told him to quote "giddy up cowboy"; they were wed 18 months later). He was an incredibly doting father who insisted on doing the late night feedings because work kept him so busy in the daytime. And most of all he was a true Christian who shared God's Word with most anyone who would listen and loved his neighbors.
Every year I approach being older than he ever was. 24 years and 18 days, 6 hours and 32 minutes (I'm sure Mama knows the seconds.) It's unnatural to grow older than your big brother, and each of us younger siblings marches toward it; my sister surpassed him recently and fell into hysterics once she realized. The clock now looms over me like the shadow of death itself.
It was a farm accident. A freak thing. Everyone tried their best to save him; first his wife, then the neighbors, then local EMTs, a flight nurse and a paramedic, countless nurses and doctors and specialists from The Big City. They all wept with us as he took his final breaths, surrounded by more people than the hospital was technically supposed to let in. It took him an excruciatingly long time to pass on once support was pulled, and his heart only finally slowed and stopped when his wife assured him "I've got this CJ, don't worry, I've got the kids and the cows, you go on home now".
I can't even type that without shaking.
I hardly knew her before they wed, and not much more before he passed away. She became much more than the mother of my nieces in the wake of his death; she's well and truly one of the strongest people I know, and a true sister to me. I'll never be able to thank her enough for giving him peace enough to let go in his final moments. She's not much of a dancer or a card player, and she can't so much as hit the side of a broad barn with a bow, but I like singing with her in church, and she's helping me learn to quilt now.
I read somewhere that grief is just love with no place to go. So tonight as my throat aches with thoughts of CJ, I'll pour out some of this love. Into my dogs, my horses, my plants, my nieces, my sister-in-law, my sister-in-law's new boyfriend, and God, who I know is in control and has a Plan, who has overcome the grave, and whose will I submit to even if at this moment it's painful. Because I know He keeps His promises.
"I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die."
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Ride on Cowboy, see you on the other side 💙
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silasbug · 1 year
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a love letter to the cats from my youth.
i was feeling a bit sad recently when i thought about my younger years and how it feels like more and more memories have started fading. i know that i am the unreliable narrator of my own life, but there's certain things i hope not to forget.
when we were living in a small house between the fields in Canada, we decided to adopt cats from someone i'd met at school. we were only going to take two, but we fell in love with three of the kittens and took them home, marking the beginning of my little family.
they were: Big Foot (left, he was a 24-toed polydactyl, he always looked like he was wearing a cat-suit one size too big for his build), Bubbles (a cute little tabby) and Loveless (right, beautiful, fluffy, gray).
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what we didn't know, however, was that there was another cat living in one of the abandoned and dilapidated buildings on the property. after we adopted the kittens, she became curious. we assumed that she must've lost her own litter, because she adopted the kittens and started nursing them. she was very hostile towards us at first, but eventually warmed up to the point that we could let her inside, pet her, have her sit close by. she never let us pick her up though, which is fair. whenever she had a litter, she would always hide the kittens under my mothers bed. i called her Blackjack. she was wonderful. the mother of mothers.
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i did everything with these cats. if i was inside, they were near me or on me. if i escaped the house, they would follow. they joined me on every walk. climbed up every tree with me. they sat in all of my puzzle boxes and napped on me.
in the evenings, i would sit myself in our freezing little porch area while all three of them were curled up on my lap because i couldn't bear to be apart from them. (space ran out when they got older and larger, but they made it work & i got used to not feeling my legs under the mass of fluff.)
as an adult, i now realize that it was reckless and irresponsible, but we couldn't get them sterilized due to financial problems. so they had kittens, naturally. lots of them. we would always find them good homes, but with every litter, at least one would stay with us. my family of cats was ever growing and i loved all of them so fucking much. they were, more often than not, one of my only reasons to come home, to stay home, to get up in the mornings and to stay alive.
i miss the days of being buried beneath ~10 cats. i miss singing to them. i miss our walks. i miss the rustling of the grass around me as they followed my every step, their tails peeking out in between. i miss escaping with them. i miss how sweet they sounded and how they were more family to me than the people with whom i lived in that house. they walked me to the bus in the mornings and picked me up when i came home. they joined all of my adventures and they were the only reason i didn't feel completely alone while i was lost in the fog of life and the creeping depression of teenage.
they sparked joy when there was none and brought love to someone who needed it desperately.
they were everything.
Sora (the fluffiest motherfucker alive, he was baby) and Russia (don't ask me why i named a cat Russia):
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Killer (chased a fox thrice her side across the fields, she was death, destroyer of worlds, the feistiest and most energetic cat you could ever imagine) and Chou (severely disabled, but so /so/ fucking sweet. she was pure sugar, pure love, an angel on earth. she just understood. if i thought i'd ever experienced unconditional love, it was from her):
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Halfpint (named after Laura Ingalls from Little House On The Prairie, he looks a grump but he was a calm and loving soul) and Charcoal (sweetheart, looked like she sneezed into a pot of black powder lol):
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some group pictures:
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top: Chou, Sora and an unnamed kitten | left: Sora, Blackjack, Killer, Russia, Halfpint and Chou | right: Blackjack and Sid (a cat we took in briefly, he was attached to my hip, but didn't get along with the rest)
we couldn't take them back to Germany with us when we had to leave, and i still miss them dearly. i only hope they are still happy and well to this day, that the people that took them in loved them as hard and as wholeheartedly as they deserved.
but not everyone made it until the end, unfortunately, and i couldn't let them go. so i made them a little graveyard. hidden somewhere between the trees. RIP Big Foot, Bubbles and Russia.
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aberrant-webnovel · 11 months
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Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant
Content Warning: Violent reference
Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant
There's a massive building ahead of me. Made of dark steel and copper piping along the exterior. There were rivets lining every panel of the building and lights intermittently placed to illuminate the front of the building.
Above the main entrance rested a symbol, rather than any words. A red skull decal with red rifles crossing behind it like an 'X'. Rather ominous in general, but in this city the sight of this simple symbol held hope for us.
The Vault Breakers were heroes of the Igneol Domain. For over 1,000 years, they have served Domain to better life for people all over the Calabasas Continent. Here in the Igneol Domain, people rely on technological marvels from long ago that can help people better survive in these conditions. The people who go and hunt down these pieces of tech are the Vault Breakers.
Nobody knows what's inside these Vaults until they're cracked and explored, but the reward will make someone rich enough to survive years in leisure. But the rush of hunting this tech and bringing home a payday keeps Breakers going out and fighting for their fortune.
I, Ymir Gajjet Sorenson, will become a Vault Breaker today and fight for the improvement of life for all of us. And more than that, enough money to move me and my family to the Luxor Domain. I've heard so much about the tech they've implemented there. So much stuff that just makes life easy and wonderful for all who can make it there. THAT is my goal. To let mom live happy, healthy, and and safe. More so than in this blazing hot desert.
With each step towards the massive doors ahead of me, I feel my knees buckle. My body sinks and I feel faint. These doors must be sixty feet tall. Must be like a bajillion pounds. I could never move something like that. Oh geez! Why didn't mom tell me anything about this? Why didn't Auntie or Uncle tell me!? How do I get in?
I take a few moments to collect myself. I stare at the doors. I'm about a hundred feet away, but they're immeasurably daunting. I could swear that they grow every time I lose hope in my heart.
Just then, they creep open. Slowly. The sound of metal scraping rings out and I can hear it reverberating in my ears. What amazing power is forcing these massive metal walls to move!? What sorcery!? How can I gain such power!?
I looked near the base of the door. There is a small girl. Maybe a younger teen. I can't quite tell from this far, but she's got some very pretty blue hair. Blue hair that looks just like….
"Silva! What the hell!?"
I couldn't stop myself from shouting and drawing as much attention as I could. It was totally involuntary. I swear. The blue haired youth turned around to looked at me. She scowled.
Silva is a young woman who is actually a little older than I. Only by two years, though. She's my cousin. Like a lot of our family, we all had dreams of being Vault Breaker. This year, I was to apply to join the ranks. My older cousin was also thinking that she'd enlist one day. She wasn't ever particularly interested in the dangerous tasks involved, but rather wanted to join the R&D Corp. She took after her father, who was currently the head of Research & Development for the Vault Breakers.
"You didn't know that I'd be applying with you? I was sure I hinted at it last time I visited."
"Hell no! I was told by Uncle Varun that you weren't going to apply for another few quarters! Auntie Fran said you were thinking about going to school somewhere instead, though."
"Mom always says things like that. She doesn't want me playing with weapons all the time so she tells everyone I'm leaving to go to school. I actually snuck out today to take the tests for the R&D corp. Do me a favor and don't tell mom, kay? Or Auntie Harper. Telling dad is fine, though. He can keep a secret."
"Yeah, I guess Uncle is pretty cool. Plus, won't he be giving you the exam? I don't have to tell him. He's going to see you."
"No, dad's going to be busy today. Some of the others from his department are here to handle the testing. Apparently some team brought in a piece of tech he'd never seen before. Once he sees something crazy, he can't do anything but study it for about a week. I expect I'll get the results back before I even see him leave his lab."
"Geez, Uncle really is a geek, ain't he? Haha!"
It's nice to talk with Silva. She's a bit older than me, but she's never looked down on me for any reason. I was never strong enough or fast enough to compare with the Sorenson family. At my age of 19, I would have already been serving as a Vault Breaker for three years. It's been a tradition for a long time in my father's family to join at 16. I could never keep up. My mother never pressured me to join.
Today is my day, though. Dad, I know you're not with us anymore, but I'm ready to make you proud. It's time that your son Ymir becomes a Vault Breaker!
Together with Silva, we entered through the massive steel doors. They had swung open because Silva presented an authorization keycard to the terminal just outside the doors. I didn't have one with clearance to enter here, but she let me know that her dad slipped her one a while back so that she could visit whenever she wanted. Even though she had such a thing, this was the first time she used it. Typically, I would be entering with a sponsor and directed to the testing areas.
I stepped through the intimidating arch and then stared out to all extraordinary things before me. Lining the walls of the hall were twenty foot statues of the greatest Vault Breakers in the history of the group. Every single one of them is a hero in their own right. All of them achieved enough during their service to earn a place in this hall as one of the six greatest to have ever been called a Vault Breaker.
I walked through the hall and admired each with every step I took. First, to my left, I saw a statue of the founder of the Vault Breakers. Just over 1200 years ago, was when this man, Maximillian "Vault Breaker" Atom, smashed through a blast door with a crazy tech hammer that he looted. Inside the vault, he found a power source called the Igneol Core. This core was able to power a complex series of machinery based on magma flow within a Vault.
This piece of tech became what founded the city that would later be called the Igneol Domain. With this act, Maximillian went forth to found a group dedicated to enriching the lives of humans all around the world with lost technology found deep underground in these mysterious Vaults. Henceforth, his group were called the Vault Breakers and continued to operate out of the center of the Igneol Domain.
Maximillian might have been the first of the great heroes of this place, but across the hall was a statue depicting one of the later leaders of the Vault Breakers. Her achievements, however, came quite a bit before she took over the mantle of leader.
Rochelle Rutherford. She was a powerful fighter. This great woman walked with a force that could shake the crust of the earth and strike terror into the heartiest of Vault veterans. All on her own, she breached a vault, slaughtered a thousand aberrations, and laid claim to valuable technology that led to crucial discoveries in the domain's hydroponics systems. Thanks to this discovery, the lives of everyone in the domain, and later the whole continent, would be enriched by this amazing discovery.
The 6th Chief of the Vault Breakers, Rochelle, was a no-nonsense woman who led with an iron fist. She trained the members and taught them everything needed to do the job. Her teachings would later become adapted and create a system detailing the roles that each Vault Breaker must play.
The Breaker, or Breacher, was a heavy-duty operator. Rather than relying on weapons and offensive gear, they would infiltrate with equipment capable of cutting through defenses that locked Vaults away from them. Once the breach is complete, then they would send in the next roles. Once all members of a team had entered, the Breaker team would seal the Vault and prevent escaping aberrations.
Scouts were trained with the intention of mapping out all dangers and pathways in unknown territory, but only to an extent that danger could be avoided.. Even outside of a breach event, Scouts often did work to find new entries for Vaults. Once inside, a Scout's specialty was not being seen, moving through the territory, and acquiring information to relay back to the rest of the team. Once enough info was acquired, they would return and report. From there, it was up to any Runners in the squad.
Having specialized jobs like Breakers and Scouts was helpful for the Runners. Unlike Breakers and Scouts, every Runner had to learn everything about Vaults. The enemies that were inside had different weak points. The pathways had tendencies in their blueprints that Runners could read and follow. While a Scout could give an initial impression of what's to come, the Runner would know the path that led to the end. Therefore, Runners were the front of the pack.
Runners carried the best weapons, the strongest defenses, and the best tech for surveillance. Gear was usually bulky and required extensive training just to move around with it, as well as augmentations to one's anatomy. This was more than just a fighter role. It was a leader and powerhouse role. Most of the pressure was on the Runners to ensure the safety of all others once they were inside the Vaults.
Rochelle Rutherford was regarded as the greatest Vault Breaker in history because she was able to perform all three roles and to such a degree that she rarely went into Vaults with a group. The last time she did, she died. She fought as hard as she could to protect the lives of those she brought along. Rochelle will always be in the hearts of those who survive. A common ritual is to ask for her protection before leaving for a deployment.
The third hero in this hall is a bit of an obscure one. Ornn Sorenson. He's my ancestor. I forget how many generations back he is, but he lived hundreds of years before I did. His achievements were much less based on merit and skill as a Vault Breaker. He earned his place in this hall from the value of his finds.
Ornn had a nose for treasure and sniffed out the Vaults with some of the best tech that anyone had ever seen. New weapons were able to be created after he brought back ancient military tech one time. Another time, he looted a power cell that redefined how we store energy. Our lives became so much more efficient once we replicated it. His place here is proof off his commitment to enriching the lives of everyone with his efforts.
One day, I want to bring back some awesome score and show it off to everyone. I can just imagine Uncle Varun lighting up at a chance to play with new tech while Auntie Harper lectures me about doing dangerous things.
On my right side now is the fourth statue of a hero. Lars "S-Ranker" Sorenson. Another one of my ancestors. His life was closer to mine, but I still never got to meet him. I hear that he trained my grandfather directly, but I never got a chance to meet any of the men in my family.
Lars, though, had a reputation in our family. A reputation as the strongest and most diligent Vault Breaker that has ever been born in our family. He rose to the top of the ladder within a few years of joining the service. He defeated hordes of aberrations and cleared one Vault after another. He led a team of elites through each one, never taking a casualty.
After countless deployments, Lars retired from action and put his knowledge to use. He created two class systems revolving around the Vaults and the Vault Breakers. The systems are easy to understand and put emphasis on protecting the lives of everyone going inside the Vaults.
Each Vault is listed in one of five classes. Class 1 is the easiest Vault to clear. That makes Class 5 a Hell hole. The class for each Vault is decided off of multiple factors. The biggest one being the presence of aberrations. Not every Vault has those creatures inside of them. The ones with absolutely no aberration presence recorded are in that Class 1. Class 2 doesn't always have them, but the presence of a few will land them here.
Class 3 Vaults are something else entirely, though. Most Vault Breakers don't have the opportunity to ever get inside one of these. Just clearing enough lower classes is enough to make someone quit or they end up dead off of a rookie mistake. Inside a Class 3 Vault is a swarm of aberrations. The type of creature is typically something manageable by a solid team, though. Most weapons are effective against them and the more elite Vault Breakers are tough enough to outlast the waves.
Things get hectic in the next class. Class 4 Vaults are notable as they show signs of evolved creatures within them. Sometimes the aberrations swear fealty to one high-powered creature or they operate like a hive mind. The intelligence of them increases dramatically at this point and only the most elite Vault Breakers are allowed to enter such a place.
Class 5 Vaults are something that Lars insisted was an arbitrary ranking. Something that is listed at this rank has never been truly found. It represents the possibility of a cluster of aberrations capable of breaking out of the Vault themselves. No aberration has ever made their way out of the vaults, except for the rare times that lower class Vaults ended up damaged. Occasionally, aberrations wander the surface and hunt, but they aren't too powerful. The strongest ones never leave the Vaults. Class 5 Vaults represent the fear and anxiety of them trying to leave, though.
The class system for the Vaults is pretty simple. The class system for Vault Breakers is a bit more bureaucratic, though. It's a few stacks of paper work for insurance purposes, paying dues to the corps you join, who to notify if you die, and covers all standard harassment policies and how everyone is expected to operate. After doing that, there's some testing in some lab room machines and some physical tests. Then they give a grade. That grade can improved upon un order to qualify for better benefits, opportunity, and level of work.
The lowest in this system is the "F-Ranker". It's typical that anyone who scores an F is not allowed to work as a Vault Breaker out in the field. Rather, they're directed to the Medic corps or the R&D corp. Those who insist on entering the field will have to retake the tests to be judged on their improvement.
"E-Rankers" typically end up as Scouts or Medics. They're allowed to take jobs, but must always accompany a team in order to ensure their own safety. Their job then becomes that of a support role in the Vaults. Those who don't enter the field begin to train under the leadership of a Captain within their corp.
When you make it to "D-Ranker", you're usually considered strong enough to lead a small team of similar ranks. Nobody can be placed above this point when getting their initial exam done. As a Runner, this is where one's training would actually begin. Learning how Vaults operate. Learning how aberrations move and how to kill them. It's all hands-on training, too. There's nothing to study at home. You have to study in the Vaults.
Becoming a "D-Ranker" was a turning point for many Vault Breakers. Going forward, it was likely that the job could not be done without significant change to the human body. Vault tech would be integrated into the body. Different types of machines would become one with the body and begin to change the way that a person functions. All of the changes were made to assist in the role that the Vault Breaker chose. Scouts had help being quick and elusive. Breakers would get stronger to carry more gear or augment themselves to become tools meant for clearing Vaults. Runners would become living weapons.
"C-Rankers" are considered the beginning of the elite ranks. Everyone who fought to make it to this point has the experience of a hundred soldiers. Most of have the scars to prove it, too. At HQ, there's a bunch of tech that gets sold to Vault Breakers for the purpose of doing their job. "C-Rankers" and above are allowed to look at the crazy cool stuff and get a discount on the generic gear.
"B-Rankers" are officers in their corps. Captains, Sergeants, and Commanders. Captains are leaders at the base level. They take out larger groups on deployments and often oversee everything when going into a Vault. Sergeants are a bit more independent. They're given more incentive to move on their own and can make decisions on a grander scale. If a Sergeant ordered a team of 200 Vault Breakers to charge inside a Vault, they'd do it in a heartbeat. Commanders are those who spend nearly their entire lives as a Vault Breaker. Standing at the top alongside the Chief. They serve as the direct subordinates and team members to the leader of the Vault Breakers. Each corps has at least one Commander overseeing their operations, too, and they are responsible for giving out advancements to those who perform well.
Almost every Vault Breaker thinks of "B" as their final rank to achieve. Any authority you could need is all right there. All the power and money you can earn is best once you make it to "B". It's rare that someone with enough drive and ambition will move into the "A-Rankers".
"A-Rankers" don't receive the rank because they fought really hard as a "B-Ranker". "A-Rankers" are required to go above and beyond to learn about the vaults. They have to teach other, train themselves, and lead the entirety of their corps. Physically, an "A-Ranker" isn't allowed to get tired in a Vault. They aren't allowed to fall behind. They must always stay alert, even for days without end. "A-Rankers" are the embodiment of everything it means to do this job. Only the best of the best make it to this point.
"S-Ranker" is the only thing above the best. It doesn't represent anything as far as merit and ability are concerned. "S-Rankers" are just "special", one might say. Something about them is unquantifiable. Lars Sorenson created the list and was deemed an "S-Ranker" by the system. He had augmented his own body to increase his physical capabilities. His brain was augmented to allow him to calculate faster. He operated on a scale that was above almost all others in the Vault Breakers. Because they couldn't even dream of catching up him, the upper command of the Vault Breakers deemed Lars to be "special".
There are two more statues in the hall. These two were the newest. Until just around twenty-five years ago, maybe a bit more, these two were put up at the same time. On my left is a legendary man. Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman. A hulking mass of muscle in every sense. People said he must have ate his own brain to get stronger and so he didn't have to think anything other than how big he was getting. That wasn't the case. Sarge's body was proof of his dedication. He augmented his body not for size, but for power and protection. He wanted power that would mean absolutely everything when it was needed.
Sarge himself broke into over thirty Vaults in the Terran Domain. His effort alone turned the domain into a powerhouse in producing new tech for the other Domains and producing some of the finest soldiers that they could send into more Vaults. His arms were designed to deliver force strong enough to break through waves of aberrations without tiring. With a piece of tech that he developed himself in the Crytin Domain, he could break through Vaults all on his own. A lot of Breakers used heavy and sophisticated tech to open blast doors. Sarge's arms simply could disable the magnetic locks and leave his massive physical power to open it the rest of the way.
In his final moments, Sarge used every ounce of his power. He split a blast door half-way open. Not nearly enough to fit through himself. Instead he tossed his friend through to safety and allowed it to close. It's believed that this was done to prevent the aberrations from making it out of the Vault.
Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman was a hero. A man who did more than was ever expected. And he did it with a smile. He smiled all the time, even in those final moments. At least, that's what my nana told me.
My nana was the most badass woman to ever be a Vault Breaker. Her statue actually stood across from Sarge's. After all, they were best friends for a long time. This woman, Gajjet "Hellion" Dirge, was the 60th Chief of the Vault Breakers. She earned her position through her applications of the knowledge she brought back from Vaults. She had theories about what the Vaults' purpose was and why they even exist. She led teams into the most dangerous of places. She did this all just to learn.
Gajjet never left a Vault without something to gain from it. It was only a few years before she retired that she discovered something that had never been confirmed or researched. Some of the Vaults were once labs for engineering life. It wasn't known how they were active and how they produced life still, but they seemed to be creating the aberrations. Unfortunately, Gajjet grew too old to fight through the Vaults. At that time, she stepped down and handed off her title to the next in command.
"Shit, Ymir, I gotta hide. Quit gawking at grandma's statue and hurry up!"
"Ah, fine! Fine! Why the hurry!?"
"Auntie Harper is coming!"
"….!"
I heard it for the first time ever. The sound of boots slamming against the ground in unison. In the HQ, a few dozen Vault Breakers had stopped everything they were doing, spun on a heel, and held a solid salute pose. A woman with the most powerful walk I had ever seen was walking towards us. There was no escaping this. She was looking right at me and Silva.
The woman with fiery crimson hair, tied back in a messy pony, stood before me with her arms crossed at her chest and feet shoulder width apart. She wore a white suit with a gold trim. On the left breast rested the symbol for the Vault Breakers, also embroidered with gold.. This was the 61st Chief of the Vault Breakers. Harper "Fireball" Dirge.
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sophie-i-guess13 · 2 years
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You’ve got a way to keep me on your side [ I walk the line - Johnny Cash ] maybe maybe maybe something in DMW? Possibly?
you’ve got a way to keep me on your side [ i walk the line - johnny cash ]
CW // canonical character death
“You’re mad at me.”
She takes a drag off the cigarette, smoke curling towards pale, April sky. “I’m fucking furious.”
Dallas keeps his hands on either side of him, splinters digging into his palms the longer they sit there, on that sorry excuse of a porch while the sun trickles down below the horizon. Sunrises, sunsets, they’re all the same in his eyes. They make him sick. Remind him all too much of Johnny Cade and Ponyboy Curtis — and the essay Pony wrote that got him his full ride to Oklahoma State.
“I just couldn’t stick around. After Johnny, I… he was just a kid, y’know? He-, He wasn’t supposed to die. Not like that, Jesus. Not like that.”
Sylvia laughs. A cold, humourless chuckle as sickening as the tobacco she was breathing in. Another tendril of smoke rises to the sky, ash grey melting into a series of red, orange, yellow, and pink. “I don’t want an explanation, Dallas,” she says, voice shaking on every word, “I… God, Dallas, I want an apology.”
“And what do I have to be sorry for, Sylvia?”
It’s as if nothing had changed between them. A quick break up, an even quicker reunion, and the inevitable fight that would force them apart again. Not this time, Sylvia decides. If he wants to leave, he better have enough sense to never come back.
“I gave you everything I had to offer, Dallas. I gave you the best years of my life,” she spits. “I was there when you needed me, I bailed you out time and time again, I vouched for you-,” Sylvia blinks suddenly, dragging the back of hand beneath her eyes before casting her cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath her heel. “Maybe I wasn’t great. I- I had a lot to learn about bein’ a decent girlfriend, but at least I apologized.”
“So what,” Dallas scoffs thickly, “you want me to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend when we were sixteen?”
“I want you to apologize for bein’ a shitty friend. You took off for five fucking years, Dallas! Five! No letter, no phone calls, I didn’t know if you were back up north having the time of your life, or being torn apart by vultures in a goddamn ditch.”
There’s a heavy silence between them now, neither one wanting to look at the other as they stare up at the endless Oklahoma sky, streaked with thin, white clouds.
“You’re mad at me.”
She sniffles, nodding. “Yeah.”
“M’sorry,” Dallas admits quietly. “For bein’ a shitty friend.”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve said you’re sorry to me,” Sylvia says, eyes cast to the hands resting on her knees. Dallas shrugs his shoulders, leather jacket shifting with his body. It’s odd to see him now, five years older than he should be, looking more like a man than she ever thought possible.
“You gonna take me back yet?”
Sylvia smiles. Damn him. Damn him to hell.
“You’re like a fuckin’ cockroach,” she huffs, “always comin’ back.”
“You’ve got a way to keep me on your side, Sylv. Ain’t my fault.”
“Don’t you start with that damn song-,”
Five years. He’s been gone for five years, only to come back as if nothing had ever changed. Sylvia smiles, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder while his arm creeps around her waist.
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