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gwendollin · 2 years

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:: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 :: Featuring 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

♡. w//c. 2.6k

♡. t//w. [ Safe for work. ] Royal Court AU. Slight angst. Female Reader. Jester Sanzu. Queen Reader. Yandere Sanzu. Poisoning. Assassination.

♡. sy//ns. You are a Queen beloved by all of your people, reigning over your Kingdom with a gentle hand. When the dear King falls ill, you can only bring yourself to take refuge from your grief in your court jester, a dear friend and confidant; unbeknownst to you, he carries a dark secret.

♡. a//n. This idea has been plaguing me since my old blog. I've only recently gained the inspiration to write something down for it!

Your kingdom was glorious. It prospered around you, it's people well fed and poverty kept at a minimum. Farmers were happy to work their hours and earn their wages, while artisans and merchants came from faraway lands in an attempt to share their wares and craftsmanship with your civilians to make their living. You've reigned since you were barely a teenager, taking the throne at the young age of thirteen. You'd come from a neighboring land, wedded to your now husband in an attempt to gain political virtue and yet you'd grown to love your newfound home and husband with a sincerity that had at first startled you.

To those around and onlooking you were seen as a benevolent ruler, holding the utmost dignity and respect for your community while maintaining an untouchable sense of regal and poise. Mannerisms were always polite, contained, and well manicured to the point where little girls had revered you as an idol while men had lusted or proclaimed their trust in a way that left you both admired and utterly adored.

With great power comes great responsibility however, and you and your husband tended to navigate affairs together. While perhaps unorthodox to some, the two of you acted as a team and your husband regarded you as a personal confidant in political states and war measures. Not that your peaceful reign warranted any sort of wars to be concerned with, but you'd argued it best to be rather safe than sorry should the need for force arise. Likewise an army provided jobs and relief to the people, keeping their worries at bay while soldiers found their purpose serving your reign.

While the two of you acted together, you'd also a personal cabinet that discussed foreign affairs. In your case, there was a special one person that had grown to become a dear friend and proven to be cunningly wiser than his younger age suggested. This man was, much to no one's surprise and yet to some a baffling conundrum, your devoted court jester. Haruchiyo Sanzu had been his name, with hair as vibrant as his impish personality while piercing blue eyes saw more than he dared ever let on. You'd met him in your younger years, his foolish ways garnering him both laughter and flustered hysterics from those around him. Nonetheless, he left lasting impressions on those he met, his words strung throughout with metaphors and fables that you'd found to lead to deeper understandings when you'd come to him for advice on subjects.

Yes, he was dearly trusted. Trusted to make you laugh and for your guests to be left utterly speechless in awe by his theatrics when you'd choose to entertain. While your husband had found him grating at first, there was no denying the joy he'd brought to your face when he would spit something unusually crass or hyperbolic. Your husband had grown to become accustomed to Sanzu's peculiar ways, and over the years the jester had proven himself capable of being a trustworthy advisor. So he stayed, if nothing for you, and only for you alone.

For what seemed like an eternity, you lived in peace and harmony taking up days with your joker in the gardens, laughing in all of your memories as he had pulled from his sleeves a fully fleshed bouquet comprised of marigolds, daisies, and tulips. Their colors would splash together in oranges, yellows, and whites in your recollection while their scent had been so pleasant against your senses when you'd taken their stiff stems delicately into your hands. In every recount you were smiling.

That was always your dear fool's goal; to see you smile. To watch you laugh, dance, and sing to the instruments he would play in your grand ballroom. Yes, you were beautiful to all, but especially to Haruchiyo. Haruchiyo, who'd grown to adore you in all of your seemingly perfect imperfections that you dare never show to the world. There was an intimacy between you that could never be denied no matter how hard the two of you tried. While he'd seen you dressed in your fine gowns and with your hair pinned and contorted in a way that was lavishly unnatural, the man had also seen you dressed modestly in nothing but a floor nightgown with hair left tousled from a night's rest. Haruchiyo who'd witnessed your outbursts of frustration, sadness, glee, and irritation that never escaped the walls of the castle. It was he who'd been able to truly see the woman you were, rather than the Queen that ruled the kingdom with a sacrosanct demeanor.

However, all must good things must meet their end. Unfortunately, you were no exception to this rule of life, try as you might. It'd started as a simple cough in your King, which progressed to a throat that had grown terrible sore. He'd assured you it was nothing to worry about, and yet still you fretted over him. It wasn't until the nausea had begun to come into play did he start to grow concerned, and only after did his skin turn a sickly sheen of ash did he take to his bedside and call for the finest doctor throughout the continent to come to his aide. Yet there was nothing that could be done for now while you waited, and from your place beside him as he lay feeble, you wondered if perhaps you'd lose him.

Haruchiyo had remained in the room with you when you would come to remain by your husband's side. A hand would place itself along your shoulder, and as your husband lay asleep, you would crumple into your jester's side and weep.

"Am I going to lose him?" you'd whispered into the garish fabric of Haruchiyo's clothing. A weight had formed within your heart, the sensation so strong that it threatened to tear a hole through your chest from the sheer magnitude it possessed. It ached and throbbed, the pulses of sadness so palpable and tangible you'd felt them along your hands in rippling shocks. The sheer thought alone made you want to wail and scream, but you swallowed the urge, used to having to bottle away the unsightly emotions from years and years of practice.

Haruchiyo stared down to you sympathetically. The hand on your shoulder moved to gingerly touch the crown of your head, hands stroking along in an attempt to soothe. It worked, slightly, the touch warm and inviting. You'd nestled closer, wanting to bury yourself into the man, to hide away.

"No," he said comfortingly, the single word holding such a tender tone that it pulled at your heart. Not once had you seen him so kind, so somber, so serious. Normally he held that maniacal grin on his face, crystalline irises bright and vivacious. When you'd peeked up to look at him, you were shocked by how hollow they seemed. Empty. Lacking that brightness that would glimmer under the sun in your gardens. Thin lips moved, voice following suite; "You will not lose him. The doctor will arrive in a fortnight and cure him, if only he fights that long; he shall. To leave you behind would be a personal sin he could never redeem."

Your stare lowered. Tears budded at the corners of your eyes before they were blinked away, the droplets sinking down the slopes of your face before pooling to drip from your chin. Your lips quivered as you spoke, but you maintained an even voice; "I can't bear to lose him, Haruchiyo. I cannot. If I do, I don't know what I'll do with myself."

The pink haired man continued to stroke your head, fingers moving to your temples until finally tracing the outline of your face. Palm gently cupped your cheek. Thumb brushed delicately at one of your eyes, wiping the tears away.

"You are stronger than you think," he'd murmured softly. "Though it will not come to that. If it does, you know I'll always be here by your side."

A little smile twitched on your lips at the thought. "Do you promise?"

"I do."

The fortnight had come to pass and the doctor had been called. Blood was drained and medicinal plants were ground down into powders and pastes to be administered in the form of potions. At first, your husband's condition improved. A sheen of life returned to the color of his skin, bearing a semblance of newfound health. At one point, he'd even been able to clamber from his bed and go a day without vomiting. It was joyous, the emotion flooding you in a way you'd never experienced before, igniting your soul and biding your blood to run warm beneath your skin. Relief had washed along your body and released all of the tension you'd carried on your bones and undid the knots in your stomach. There was hope.

That was until it all seemed to fail. Once more your husband grew ill, unable to hold food or water down at dangerous levels. Advised by the doctor, many objects had been removed from the room on the pretense something could be making him ill. It was trial and error, urine sampled and observed in a flask before more potions were crafted in the hopes to save his life.

It was a mystery as to why his condition was failing so miserably. A mystery that ate at your heart, leaving it wrought with constricting pain day after day. The people would leave flowers by the doors of your castle, accompanied by bread and prized meats. You knew that they were just as worried as you were.

"Oh Haru," you'd wailed, the two of you accompanied together in your bed chamber. "I'm losing hope."

"You mustn't," he'd said, taking your hands into your own. Those blue eyes seemed pleading, glimmers of their light reflecting in the candlelight. "The King - he is strong. He will bear through this. For you."

You'd sniveled and choked on a sob. Long had passed since you'd first broken down before your jester, and it seemed you could only truly confide in him. Haruchiyo, your dear friend, who still to this day was the only man who could see the true you.

He'd drawn you in for a hug, arms warm and tight as they wrapped around your body. You practically collapsed into him, your own arms coming to clutch onto him. The warmth you felt upon his touch was invaluable, anchoring you from your raging tide of emotions that threatened to drag you into the undertow. Haruchiyo lightly placed his chin atop your head, eyes falling half lidded in thought.

“He needs his medicine,” you’d uttered through a hiccup. “The doctor is not here to administer it, and I’m afraid I can’t bear to see him right now. Haruchiyo, could I please burden you with the request to see him for me?”

The jester smiled to himself, giving a gentle pat to the small of your back. A squeeze had been given as confirmation of his acceptance, and you drew away from him with hands wiping the corners of your eyes to dry your ever flowing tears. Haruchiyo offered an exuberant bow to you, one that earned a smile, before he assured you. "Of course, my lady."

As he'd made his way down the corridors of your castle, the jester's movements were filled with a lilt. Steps were a bounce and muscles seemed to spring him forward in a musical dance, a strange jovial air wafting and curling around his body. It was disconcerting the way that he moved, fingers trailing along the paintings of you and your dear husband as he past. From his lips a tune was whistled, until finally he'd rounded into the bed chamber.

Your husband lay still beneath the duvet covers, breathing shallow as chest rose and fell only slightly. Haruchiyo simply observed for a moment, watching the way the once strong man now appeared more feeble than a newborn deer. The jester took light steps in, his footfalls near silent as he'd rounded to the bed.

"Good evening, my King," he'd murmured softly, offering another grandeur bow that sank his torso low until body nearly folded in half. One arm had crossed along his chest with palm splaying over his heart while the other extended out to his side in a wide, theatrical display. Eyes cracked themselves open from the man he was addressing, the King staring up at the pink haired jester with a hardened look.

"It's you," he'd mumbled, the words rasped and low.

"It is I," Haurhchiyo practically purred. "I am here to administer your medicine. You see, [Y/N] couldn't bear to see you in this state, so the Queen asked for me to be your nurse this evening. Isn't that sweet?"

Eyes narrowed, but as much as his suspicions were risen high, the King could do and say nothing.

The joker crossed to the nearby table where there were slight clinks of bottles and the drip of liquid. Unbeknownst to the king there was a second bottle opened, the dropper being plucked delicately and a lethal dose of arsenic was administered into the concoction.

Although perhaps a shock to all, it would become of no shock to the King. Perhaps sensing his final day, he would no longer remain quiet as to his suspicions.

"Are you ready?" Haruchiyo murmured, holding the cup in hand with a gleeful smile.

The King's eyes fluttered shut. "Do as you must, Haruchiyo. But know you must live with these consequences."

The words struck him as odd. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know as I mean," was the quiet response back. "And may you live with this sin for the rest of your life."

Haruchiyo hummed. "Ah, so the King isn't as dull as the blade he bears. That is fine. No one will be able to save you come morning, no matter how hard they try."

"And what is it you want, Haruchiyo? What does this accomplish?"

The jester's head tilted. "Why, isn't it obvious?"

Eyes reopened to stare. A grin formed along the pink haired man's lips, the stretch so wide it'd nearly split his face in two. Haruchiyo leaned in a bit, words soft as he spoke; "I wish for your Queen, dear [Y/N.] She is what I want. She has all I have ever wanted. And with you out of the way, I will achieve that goal."

The King's eyes shut themselves again. A deep sigh had been drawn in, lifting his chest and wracking it with a cough before it'd settled into a restful peace. Words were weak; "She will never love you."

"You won't be around to see if that's true or not," Haruchiyo mumbled, as if in a taunt he'd rotated his wrist to juggle the liquid within the clear glass. "But I will never stop, my dear King. That we can both agree on."

Before the King had a chance to respond, the liquid was forced down his throat and jaw was kept still with an iron-like grip from the harlequin. As it slid down his esophagus, the only images that had come to his mind were of you.

When it'd all been drank, Haruchiyo stepped back, that wide grin still wide on his lips. There was a glimmer in those blue eyes, a sheen of light that reflected against the pale light of the flame from the candles within the room that were reminiscent of a predator's eyes shining. The King resigned himself to silence.

"I suppose this is checkmate, King," the jester murmured, giving another bow.

"You've lost."

#♡.pastries #♡.tr #♡.sanzu #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x y/n #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #tokrev x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

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damiano-mylove · 3 years

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Movie Night

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader

Wc: 2.6k (sorry)

Cw(s): SMUT, bit of angst, swearing ofc, long for some reason, begging, not proof read

*Masterlist*

Work is a healthy habit to get into - to a certain extent. If you work to avoid your problems, that's not particularly one of the most healthy things to do. The only problem working can fix is if you're poor, but really minimum wage doesn't fix that either.

But your Damiano wasn't poor, he wasn't being paid minimum wage. You knew how much he loved working on music with his friends, but he was barely home and you missed him. Being without Damiano almost felt like being without your left arm - especially since it had been so abrupt, going from him spending a few hours writing, to spending almost a full day in the studio.

Tonight was supposed to be movie night. That Damiano had suggested. To make up for lost time.

So, you found yourself, alone, on your velvet red couch, watching Alice in Wonderland, with your cat on your lap. His purrs filled whatever wavelengths were left empty by the film, but you didn't mind that at all. Your fingers found their way into his incredibly soft fur, which felt like silk between those fingers of yours.

The clock soon struck midnight, and the film hit the end credits soon after. Damiano was still not home from the studio, which almost worried you. Almost. In the earlier days of him spending all of his time at Vic's for writing or in the studio, you had thought he'd run off with someone else. You woke up the next morning with him next to you, but that never really put that specific worry to rest.

"Romeo, Baby," you whispered to the silver tabby cat on your lap. He flicked his tail to let you know he heard you. "Dad's not home yet and I'm tired, we gotta go to bed. C'mon." Romeo only lifted his head to lay his grass green eyes on you once you stopped scratching his neck. You smiled to him, though his eyes didn't return it. "You've got half a minute before I move your furry tush."

To no one's surprise, Romeo took more than half a minute so you picked him up like a baby over your shoulder. Your palm cradled his soft feet. Like the lazy cat he was, Romeo fell back asleep on your shoulder on your short walk to your bedroom that you shared with the one and only, Damiano. He used to be a god to you, but now he was basically a roommate who you shared a kiss with every once in a while.

With Romeo asleep on the bed before you finished putting on pyjamas, you slunk off to brush your teeth. The door unlocked. Your heavy eyes cast unto the clock on the wall which read nearly half midnight.

Damiano came in like a whisper in the wind, save for the closet opening so he could deposit his coat. Shaking you head, you just finished brushing your teeth. Your mouth felt dry even though you'd just rinsed it with water.

"Cara mia," Damiano purred once his eyes caught your figure in the lamp light from the bedroom. You smiled at him and went into the bedroom to curl up with your cat and go to sleep. You had work in the morning and customers didn't appreciate workers who look like sleep-deprived zombies.

This was the first time in a long time that you didn't immediately greet him once he came through the door. So Damiano could sense a shift in the mood of the flat; really, he felt it as soon as he walked in and smelt chocolate and strong tea.

His footsteps never gave away where he was, but you could feel his presence enter the room. The bed dipped on the end just as Romeo curled further into you. When Damiano's hand held your ankle, Romeo let out a soft meow.

"What's wrong, Amore?"

"Did you forget or did you do it on purpose?" You immediately sat up as you asked the question. You were tired and to act like it was fine just wasn't in the cards tonight. Damiano's eyebrows drew together. You began to nod. "Movie night? You said you'd come home early to watch a film with us."

Damiano's face darkened in realization. You pursed your lip balm coated lips. Even Romeo could sense the tension and decided to stand up and sit square on your thighs, facing your boyfriend as if to protect you. Damiano looked to his hands which rested in his lap.

After a second, he said, "I-I thought that was tomorrow."

"Tonight was Tuesday night, now it's Wednesday morning," you muttered. Your fingers found the reassuring warmth of Romeo's fur once again and Romeo let out a rather sad sounding meow. "Oh, Romeo, don't worry. Dad just has to tell us he's sorry then we can sleep."

Both you and your cat looked to your boyfriend with tired but expectant eyes. Damiano's eyes never tore from his hands. Then it was like he was speaking to himself. "I was going to buy you flowers. And let you pick the film. And you were supposed to fall asleep on my shoulder, on the couch."

"It's okay, Dami, it's just a movie night," you told him. But your conscience caught you before you continued. Why the fuck were you reassuring him when he was the one who fucked up? Tell you that he'll be home in time for a sort of date night, then skip out. "We'll do it another night, it's all good."

"It's not all good, Y/n." One thing you could agree on tonight, though you'd never say that out loud. Finally, Damiano lifted his eyes from his soft hands. You noticed his eyes shimmer in the lamplight. "I really fucked up your night and for no good reason. I'm really sorry."

Leaning forward, you patted his arm. "Forgiven. We're adults and life gets in the way of romance."

"Not always, and not for us. I'm supposed to be the best boyfriend in the world but I've barely been a boyfriend to you at all lately, and I apologize." His words were stringing together faster in faster as he kept trying to keep his tears at bay. "It's just with the new album and everything, I'm finding out how shitty I am at balancing my life." Damiano came closer to you, holding your hand that once held his arm. "How can I make it up to you, Y/n? You're the love of my life and I don't want us to fizzle out."

For some reason, a little chuckle escaped your lips. His passion for you warmed your heart as you caught a glimpse of how you first had your heart captured by the man sitting before you. The light glittered in your eyes, for Damiano and Damiano alone. "We're not going to fizzle out over one missed movie night."

"Yes, but I've missed many of our nights, whether we made plans for them or not," Damiano rebutted. Your lips pressed together in a flat line. There was a certain ounce of truth to that statement. Damiano pressed a kiss to the back of your hand without maintaining eye contact. "Cara mia, nights are for the lovers, and I seem to have forgotten that."

His warm breath tickled the back of your hand just before his pressed more kisses to the back of your hand, then wrist, then fingers.

Sensing the warming room, Romeo left your lap. He threw you a final glance, seeming like he was making sure you didn't need him in the room to which you slightly nodded at the tabby. Romeo turned on his paws and left the room - leaving two starry-eyed partners who were still most ardently in love.

Without another word, you joined your lips with Damiano's. It had been a long while since a kiss such as this one had occurred. In the place of the usual passing kisses, this one made the love shared prominent. This kiss felt as if your Damiano was once again yours and totally yours; not as if he ever wasn't, but this was a much needed reminder of that.

Holding your face in his large hands, Damiano deepened the kiss by turning his head ever-so slightly. His tongue slid into your mouth with a passionate fervour. There was no battle for dominance, but a mutual exploration of each other's mouths.

Damiano tenderly laid you down against the pillows on your side of the bed, though his lips parted from yours which was an unhappy fate. "Do you want to go further, Cara mia? I know this doesn't equal forgiveness."

"I've never wanted anything more, Dami, my sweetest love," you promised him. Damiano smiled at your admission. He began to place gentle, loving kisses to your neck. "Only if you want to."

"Oh, trust me." Damiano nipped your collarbone, resulting in a yelp from you. You could feel his smirk against your warming skin. "I want to."

Damiano's bites roamed the skin of your chest that your tank top allowed, before you sat up to take it off. Your fingers found Damiano's soft hair as he left sloppy, wet kissed all over your now exposed chest. A bitten back moan escaped your mouth just as his tongue began to circle the tender skin of your nipple, making your back arch into the man above you.

This was an admission of your pleasure, so Damiano's mouth fully encircled your nipple as his hand that once caressed your hip, now cupped your other breast. His warm palm massaged you firmly, having Damiano's name fall from your lips. It had been a while since he'd touched you like this, with such care and attention. Every fiber of Damiano's being was now focused on making his love for you known.

When his warm mouth left your breast to be exposed to the chill of the room, his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple, having goosebumps multiply on your skin at a sky high rate. His mouth then was turned to your other breast as his other hand twisted and pinched the exposed nipple.

Your hands began trying to get his deep red shirt off, to bring his warmth to you. But before Damiano would let you have what you wanted most, he bit the sweet spot beneath your boob, no doubt leaving a mark that would be apparent the next day.

As Damiano leaned up to pull his shirt over his head, you nearly melted underneath him. His hair was already beginning to become delightfully fucked up and the look in his eye was absolutely dark. The look he gave you before joining your lips once again was full of love, accompanied by lust and desire. Damiano slid off his tight leather trousers while he was at it, allowing you to palm him through his briefs.

The kiss shared was now hungry and feverish. The nails of the unoccupied hand scratched down his back, resulting Damiano bucking his hips into your hand. You removed it, which finally gave you the glorious friction that you so completely craved. Damiano no doubt sensed this as he grabbed the back of your thigh as he continued to grind right into the thin layer that separated you both.

"Damiano, please," you nearly cried. The chuckle that came from Damiano was low and only made your panties become even more wet.

"Please what?"

"You know what I mean." He was killing you. Once the words left your lips, Damiano ground his hips into you again. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please."

"See, was that so hard, Amore?" Damiano purred as he lowered the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He threw them somewhere in the room before pressing his index finger against your clit. You tried to pull him in for a kiss, but Damiano resisted. "Ah, ah, I want to see just how much I effect you."

"You're the fucking-wow-devil himself."

Damiano's laugh bordered upon an evil one. "You love me."

"I love you, I love you so fucking much," you moaned. Damiano smiled as he lowered your grey panties. Those were discarded somewhere along with your pyjama bottoms, but you couldn't give half a fuck because Damiano's perfectly manicured finger found it's way inside of you. You bucked against his hand, making Damiano laugh.

His finger drew circles inside of you while his thumb still played with your clit. God, Damiano was so much better than your own fingers. Without a warning, another finger was added, making a sort of porn-esque moan leave you. Damiano groaned at the sound as well as the sight in front of him. Even his dreams of you weren't as good as this.

It wasn't as if he could help himself from leaning down once again and attaching his mouth to your erect nipple. Your eyes crossed at three parts of your body were on fire with immense pleasure. The flames of rapture enveloped most of your body, even your soul.

"I'm-m-m gonna cum," you cried out. Damiano smiled against your breast as his fingers began going faster. "No, no, let me cum on your cock." Damiano looked up at you with a bit of surprise. You'd never said something like that without prompt.

The needy look that painted your face was all Damiano had to see before he complied. His briefs were off in the blink of an eye and he began to pump himself just to prepare. Your legs were spread wide as you could already feel yourself drip onto the sheets below which made Damiano groan with barred teeth.

He lined himself up with your entrance and gave you one final questioning look. You nodded adamantly before he pushed himself through your folds.

Truly, you could feel your soul ascend as you remembered just how big he was. You big your lip so hard you nearly broke skin while Damiano hissed an intake of breath. He came down to your lips to taste your minty mouth just as his hips began rocking into you, first at a slow pace, then began to get closer.

Damiano's hips snapped into yours quickly, and the sound of smacking skin filled the room, along with the scent of sex and sweat. The combination of both of your moans filled each other's mouths. The bedroom was incredibly hot but somehow you were in a cold sweat, save for where your body joined with Damiano's in sweet harmony.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," Damiano huffed. You clenched around his cock, only making Damiano cry out with pleasure. Your nails drew down his back, clinging him closer and closer to you with every thrust against your g-spot. Tears brimmed your eyes as a knot formed in the lower part of your stomach.

"Soon, I'm cumming soon."

"Cum on my cock, Baby, just like you want."

You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppy because he was closing in on his release as well. But you couldn't help but cum first as the knot suddenly exploded within you.

Your walls spasmed against Damiano as your release washed over you. Your legs tingled and your toes went a bit numb. Damiano then hit in you a few more times before his own seed seeped into you. It was warm and you felt incredibly full as Damiano stayed within you for an extra few seconds, before falling next to you.

"I know you said this wouldn't equal forgiveness but I'm feeling very forgiving," you sighed. Damiano chuckled and looked over at you. Your skin glowed in orgasmic radiance and your hair was completely fucked out. Damiano's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but kiss you again.

He cleaned you both up after, with a warm wash cloth, and got you new pyjamas. Romeo reentered the room once the sex smell was gone and you were in Damiano's arms once again. Your cat curled between both of you in the dead of night, like the beginnings of a family.

Damiano came home Wednesday afternoon with a massive bouquet that must have cost a pretty pence, a box of Belgian chocolate and a bag of cat treats. It seemed a movie night was in order.

#damiano #damiano david #damiano x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david x reader #damiano maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin #smut #x reader

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Text

BO SINCLAIR X READER - Waffle House Pt. 1

You're a server at the south's greatest and best-loved institution: Waffle House. The graveyard shift can be tough, but you can usually find ways to entertain yourself. Turns out tonight's entertainment is named Bo, and he wants to know if you're on the menu.

I wrote this especially for my friend Zin! This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2 is NSFW (and in Bo's POV!)

Soundtrack: Diner Ambience ; Rain ; Faint Hard Rock

Words: 3,269

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

***

READER POV

It was raining when he came in, a light rain that tapped on the windows and made you want to leave your shift at Waffle House early to crawl into your warm bed. He was just some guy—average, white, brown hair, blue eyes. And yet you felt compelled to watch him as he tapped his dripping boots against the door and shook out his hat.

Wow.

You were new to the overnight shift. It was mostly truckers coming up and down the interstate, guys who just wanted to tuck into a warm meal and leave. They tipped well, too, so you didn't mind. It wasn't like your sleep schedule wasn't fucked anyway. May as well make some money while you were up all night.

This was the first time you'd had a physical reaction to any guy who'd walked in. You completely forgot about the orange juice you were in the process of putting away. You could feel your heart race as he gazed around the restaurant, and when his eyes found yours and he flashed you that grin?

Wow.

He took a seat at the breakfast bar, right in front of you, like he could sense your pulse quickening. "Evenin'."

Right, you were supposed to greet him. "Hi, there. Can I getcha some coffee?"

"That'd be real welcome, [miss / sir]." His crow's feet wrinkled, and he set his hat aside on the counter. His twang sounded so good mixing with the classic rock pouring from the speakers that you had to bite your lip to keep from sighing. "Sure is comin' down out there."

"Yeah," you agreed with a breathless laugh. God, did you sound stupid? You turned quickly, retrieving a mug and the fresh pot you'd just finished brewing. "How do you like it?"

"If you bring me the fixin's, I'll do it up," he said easily. When you turned and handed him the mug, his eyes found your chest, staring at your name tag for an extended moment. Then, his gaze crawled to yours. "Y/N."

Your face was so hot you wondered if he could see you blushing. Rather than say anything stupid, you practically shoved ramekins of creams and sugars at him, then mumbled some excuse or another before disappearing into the kitchen.

Pressed against the wall, you took a few deep breaths. You saw a hundred men every shift, some of them quite handsome, and yet this guy was standing out to you. Why, you had no idea, but you had a table of college kids to wait on and three other people at the counter ... you couldn't be fixated on this one person.

The cook glanced up at you, then did a double take, frowning. "You okay? Look like you're about to pass out."

Worried your Average Man had heard him, you cleared your throat and announced, "I was just getting some straws," before grabbing a handful and exiting.

You shoved the straws in your apron, trying to avoid eye contact with the man ... but as you poured refills and took orders, you found it hard not to glance over at him. He was just sitting, enjoying his coffee, but every so often, you could feel him watching you from the corner of his eye.

You knew you couldn't put off talking to him for long. You had to take his order, after all, and he'd been patient. As you walked back to him, he looked up, smiling brightly. "Welcome back."

"Thanks." Why were you thanking him? Jesus Christ, you sounded like an idiot. "Ready to order?"

He laughed a little, carding a hand through his slightly damp curls. "Once you give me a menu, darlin', I reckon I won't be long."

"Oh, sh— shoot." You scrambled to grab him a menu, slapping it down in front of him. "Sorry. It's been a long night."

"No worries." As he flipped the menu open, he nodded to his coffee cup. "Can I get some more a that, sweetpea?"

"Of course." Man, you were really fucking up this serving thing tonight.

By the time you'd grabbed the pot and refilled him, he'd set the menu down and was ready with two white packets between his fingers. He tore them both open in one motion, then looked at you, smirking. "Extra sugar. Don't tell."

Shit, you can have all the sugar you want. But your mouth was not half as dirty as your mind, and so you just smiled back, trying so hard to keep from giggling. "So, what'll it be?"

"I'll get the, uh ... Texas bacon patty melt with hashbrowns."

"Sure. How you want those hashbrowns?"

"Just plain. Actually, make 'em smothered. Oh, an' a side of biscuits 'n' gravy, please."

"You got it." You jotted the order down quickly and passed it through the kitchen window, readying yourself to move on to the next customer for your own sanity.

But it was the man's voice that drew you back to the counter: "Hey..."

You turned. He was about to ask you a question, you could tell from the tone of his voice. "What's up?"

"I'm not really from around here." His smile was friendly enough, but his shocking blue eyes seemed almost calculating. "S'pretty late, an' I don't feel like sleepin' in the truck again. You know any good motels 'round here?"

It didn't even occur to you in the moment that he could be flirting. "Well, there's a Motel 6 not far from here ... a Red Roof a few miles down the interstate. Those'll probably be your best options in terms of good quality."

His expression shifted a bit, but then his smile widened, crow's feet wrinkling again. "All right. Thanks, sugar."

Sugar. You weren't new to being called that—you lived in the south, after all—but something about the way he said it...

You tried to get him off your mind the rest of the night, but it was kind of difficult. Even after he'd finished his food, he lingered, draining coffees and flipping through a newspaper someone had left on the stool next to him. He got up to go to the restroom a couple times, but besides that, he stayed planted right in front of you, where it was impossible to ignore him.

It was an hour and thirty minutes later that your shift ended. You gathered your things, and as you headed toward the door, you weren't surprised to find him still there.

For some reason, only then did his lingering presence give you pause. Why was he hanging around a Waffle House at 3 a.m., anyway? He'd said he wasn't from around here ... had he gotten kicked out or something? Chosen a direction on the interstate and just started going?

Poor guy. You bit your lip, going back and forth with yourself for a few moments before your pity won out. "Hey, sir."

He looked over his shoulder, forehead wrinkling.

"Um, you take care. Lindsey'll ring you up whenever you're ready."

He cracked a smile and waved. "Take care, darlin'."

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at those words.

The sky was just beginning to turn the color of dusk, but it was still raining as you exited the restaurant and headed to your car. Your keys jingled as you wrestled them out of the pocket of your jacket. It took you a moment to find the keyhole in the driver's side door, squinting through the rain like you were.

The inside of the car was blissfully dry, and as you slammed the door and blocked out the pounding rain, you closed your eyes and pushed out a long breath. It was time to go home—have some dinner of your own, maybe some tea, then collapse in bed.

That thought finally moved you to put the key in the ignition and turn.

And turn.

...And turn.

Well, you were the only one turning, because the engine certainly fucking wasn't.

Dread crawled up your spine and gripped the back of your neck. What? How could something like this happen? You'd just paid through the nose for a ton of repairs and an inspection. How could your engine just...

Anxiety floated you as you climbed out of the car, braving the rain to look under the hood. But hell, you barely knew which one was the engine, let alone how to fix it if it was broken. Your hands shook as you fumbled for the hood prop, heat climbing your face and stinging your eyes. How were you gonna get this fixed? How would you even afford it? Below minimum wage and tips from truckers wasn't going to cut it.

You turned, leaning against the side of the car and taking your cellphone from your other pocket. The tears finally fell once you realized that you didn't have anyone to call. You slammed the hood of the car and covered your face.

"Hey."

The voice, raised over the downpour, made you jump. You'd been standing in the rain for a few minutes, sobbing your eyes out, and you were completely soaked through. The rain and the heat of your tears fogged your glasses so bad, you couldn't see who was there no matter how you squinted.

"Hey," he said again, much closer now. You recognized the twang.

Quickly, you grabbed your glasses off, wiping them against your shirt before replacing them. You could see the Average Man much more clearly now, watching you but keeping his distance.

"Hi," you managed, sniffling hard.

His face fell. In a few seconds, he was beside you, offering you a hanky from his back pocket. With a little mumble of thanks, you wiped your face and blew your nose. The hanky smelled like motor oil and musk. He was close enough for you to smell him, too, feel the heat coming off his body.

For some reason, that made you cry harder.

He clicked his tongue above you. "Why you cryin', darlin'? It's pourin' out; you're gonna get soaked."

"My ... my car," you managed, gesturing helplessly.

"Oh? Somethin' wrong with your car?"

"Yeah. And I don't know jack shit except the model and year." You vented your frustration in a hard exhale, wringing his hanky. "I just got it inspected, too."

The man paused for a moment. "Well, hey, I'm a mechanic. I could take a look if ya like."

You raised your head, wiping your glasses again. "I— no, it's fine. It's raining out, you don't have to..."

"I don't mind," he said dismissively, opening the hood with one hand and propping it up. "Pretty thing like you shouldn't cry like that."

Again, you found yourself staring at him. This man definitely gave off an ... energy, calling you pretty while fixing your car. For a stranger, he was certainly taking control of a situation he hadn't even been aware of a minute ago. You'd been well aware he was attractive and compelling, but this was a whole new level. You were so taken off guard you couldn't think of a response.

"Go ahead and climb in front," the man said, waving you that way. "Try 'n' start it when I knock on the window."

"Okay." You slid into the front seat again, waiting for his command. He knocked once, and you turned the key.

No luck. You hesitated before knocking back.

Another knock. No luck. After the third, he rapped on the driver's side window instead, and you opened the door for him.

He was soaked. His clothes were drenched to his skin, his hair curling wildly around his ears and forehead. "No luck, darlin'. Think your engine's shot."

You felt your face crumple, any hope you'd had now crushed. It was four-something in the morning. Where were you going to get a ride home let alone a tow truck? And then how were you going to pay for it all?

"You gonna be okay?"

His words shook you out of your reverie. Your chest felt cold and numb ... the beginnings of a panic attack starting to take hold. "I just ... I don't know what I'm gonna..." You clenched your hands, freezing and trembling, and inhaled shakily.

"Listen," he said after a few moments, glancing up at the sky. "It's real shitty out, if you'll pardon my French, an' I don't feel right leavin' you all alone out here..." He sighed, almost grimacing. "You want a ride? I can getcha home, you can rest an' make your phone calls in the mornin'."

Getting into a stranger's car ... it was the most stereotypical thing in the world, but you didn't see any way you could turn down the offer. He seemed nice enough, and if it came down to it, you could run if not defend yourself...

At this point, you'd risk anything to be somewhere warm and cozy instead of in this stupid, freezing parking lot.

"I don't want to ... inconvenience you," you said weakly.

"It's no bother." His smile tightened a bit. "I'd rather you say yes or no so I can get out of this downpour."

You slipped out of your car, shutting and locking it behind you. Hopefully it would be alright for the night. "As long as you don't mind, mister."

The man simply smirked in response, slamming your hood and heading for his truck. It was a beat-up Chevy in dire need of a paint job, but it was running, which was more than you could say for your own vehicle. He opened the passenger side door, then shut it behind you, hurrying himself out of the rain. The pickup's vintage interior smelled faintly of cigarettes as you slid into place, buckling in.

He swore softly as he climbed in beside you and started the truck. Heat blasted through the air vents, and you relaxed a little. It smelled musty and old in here, but the engine sounded good, and whatever problems there were were easily smoothed over by the handsome company and the rock droning from the radio.

"Name's Bo, by the way." He spared you a smile as he backed out of his parking space. "Only fair you know mine since I know yours." When you balked, he laughed. "Your name tag, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Duh."

The man—Bo—took it in stride. "You must be beat as hell, shift like that. Betcha can't wait to get home and curl up in bed."

"Yeah," you replied, giggling awkwardly.

Bo smiled. God, he was so pretty. "Don't blame ya. I'm dog tired myself. Do just about anything for a drink and a soft bed right now." A chuckle. "Guess I'll just have to settle for a beer and a motel mattress."

Again, you giggled awkwardly.

On the other hand, he wasn't awkward at all. In fact, he seemed perfectly comfortable carrying the conversation, as if he'd gotten the script before you and rehearsed his lines a thousand times. "So where'm I headed?"

"Oh, uh, take the next exit..."

You continued to navigate for him, but you were working from memory, your eyes barely on the road. You couldn't help but watch his hands as he maneuvered the truck. They looked strong and warm, with fine hairs near his wrist, and on his right hand, a signet ring glistened in the low light. When he stroked and squeezed the steering wheel, his muscles and skin shifted beautifully over his knuckles.

You kinda wished you were that steering wheel.

Eventually, the truck pulled up to your apartment building, engine purring as it idled. "This the one?"

"Yeah." You clutched your things closer and smiled over at Bo. "Thank you for this. Really, I don't know what..."

You'd been about to say I don't know what I can do to repay you, but the state he was in, it wasn't hard to guess what he needed. Not only was he drenched, but he looked half-dead with exhaustion despite that easy smile of his.

Even as you opened your mouth, you knew this was a crazy idea.

"Do you ... want to come in for a minute? I can at least get you a towel, um, and maybe some cash for taking you out of your way."

Bo paused. He had an expressive face—you could see him weighing his options. "What the hell," he sighed, giving a tight white-guy smile before cutting the engine. "Sure."

Your heart leapt. You had half expected him to turn you down out of politeness, but you supposed you had inconvenienced him. Excitement mixed with terror at the thought of having this man—a stranger—in your apartment. Alone with you.

But it was a little too late to back out now. You slipped out of the truck and led him quickly up the front steps, then the interior stairs to your apartment. As always, your building smelled like Second Floor's cats and First Floor's cheap weed. Bo only stood behind you, hat in his hand, nice and polite as he waited for you to unlock your door.

"Home sweet home," you said, laughing awkwardly as you stepped in.

Bo gave a cursory glance around the place but didn't seem to feel one way or the other about your decor, simply smiling at you. He sure did know how to make people feel at ease. This almost didn't feel like an insanely stupid idea.

"Make yourself at home. I'll go get a towel. Um, and I can get you a drink. What do you like?"

"I'm not fussy, but I'll take whiskey if you have it."

Your place was so small, you were able to carry on the conversation while you hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet. "I think one of my friends left some behind the last time she was over. Wild Turkey? It's bourbon?"

"That'll do." When you brought him the towel, he gave you one of those dazzling grins in return. "Much obliged, darlin'."

God, you just wanted to stand there and take him in while he toweled himself off, but you forced yourself not to, instead going into the small kitchen and fetching the whiskey. You weren't much of a drinker yourself, but you'd seen your friends drink plenty, so you poured a couple fingers in a wide glass and brought it out. He had already made himself quite comfortable on your couch, leaned back, legs spread, arm across the back of it.

"I hope it's not irresponsible of me to give you a drink when you're gonna be driving," you said as you handed him the whiskey.

He chuckled. "Don't you worry about me. I've pro'lly driven worse off a thousand times." He threw it back in one go, and you watched his slightly stubbly throat bob as he swallowed smoothly. He practically moaned, "That's it," before wiping his mouth. Looking you up and down, "None for you, sugar?"

It took you a moment to find your voice. "I don't really drink much. Tastes like paint thinner to me."

That drew a laugh from him. "Sacrilege." Then a hum. "You don't have to stand there, y'know. It is your house."

Sitting next to him would mean his arm was practically wrapped around your shoulder. An edge of wariness was beginning to press against your thundering heart. This was such a terrible idea, for so many different reasons.

You approached slowly, lingering before him. The way he looked up at you through his lashes, body sunk into your couch, nearly made your mouth water. He lifted his glass slightly. "Think I'm good for one more ... if ya don't mind."

***

Part 2

Masterlist

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #bo sinclair imagine #written

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felix21im · 3 years

Text

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 6: The Bar

“You have to be kidding me right now!” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. “It was the first time I haven’t shown up to work, I always did my job exactly how you wanted me to and this is your thanks? I told you what happened and you don't even care at all! I was literally unconscious and in shock after what occurred that day.” You exclaimed and shook your head, not believing what you were hearing.

“I'm truly sorry, but you know how we handle things here. I'm sure a young and outgoing person like you will find a new job without any problems. We will send you the money for the last days you were working. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got a restaurant to take care of.” Your boss, well ex-boss, went through the door and left you standing in his office in disbelief. You picked up all your personal items before then heading to the front door. You looked around once more, thinking about all the years you were working here. You said one last goodbye to your coworkers before heading out the door, leaving this part of your life behind.

You went to your own car - finally having a driver's license after Leon made sure you got your private lessons - ready to drive home. But as you were sitting down you realized that that wasn't what you really wanted. The best thing to do now was to see Leon, so that's exactly where you were going.

You pulled into Leon’s driveway and parked in front of the front door. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” Angel greeted you as you stepped out of the car.

“Neither did I.” You answered and walked to the door, letting yourself in. You found Leon in the kitchen and he was leaning over a bottle of whiskey. “Leon?” You raised an eyebrow, thinking it was kind of early to drink but didn't say anything to him.

You must have scared him as he shot up to look at you. He looked rough, his hair was a mess and his grey clothes were stained. “Buttercup!” He smiled as he walked over to you. “I didn’t know you were coming over today, I thought you were at work.” He planted a kiss on your forehead and rubbed your arms.

“I got fired.” You simply blurted out, rather than trying to avoid it. “Since I didn’t go to work that one day last week my boss seriously wasn’t happy.” You lightly waved Leon off of you and sat down at the kitchen counter. “I’ve never missed a day for like three years but one day! One day! Is enough to get me fired.” You placed your head in your hands and groaned.

“Well fuck that guy.” He pulled a cereal box out of a cupboard under the kitchen island and placed it into a bowl.

“Fuck that guy…” You replied. “Now I need to waste the next week of my life trying to find a new job.

Leon finally put some milk into the bowl too. “You’re a college student, you don’t need a full time job.” He placed the bowl in front of you as you looked up at him. “Eat up, Buttercup.”

You looked down at the cereal and you pushed it around with your spoon. “I’m not really hungry, Leon.” You pushed the bowl back towards him and you brushed your hair with your hand. “It’s not that I need a job, I just like having one, it keeps me busy and the extra money never hurts.”

“But wasn’t the pay terrible?” He raised his eyebrow as he began to eat your food. “And super sexual? Your co-worker Mimi told me about how you would unbutton your shirt and wear super tight pants so that the customers would tip you more…”

“True.” You admitted. “So I’ll look for something different. Maybe I can be a personal assistant like Angel and Daisy.”

“They’re more than just assistants y’know.” Leon continued to eat. “Those two have joined me on a job, saved my life once or twice.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, why are you eating cereal?” You eventually asked.

“We don’t have any food, Angel wasn’t able to go shopping this morning.” He said as he placed his empty bowl in the sink. “How about an office job?”

“That’s a bit boring, dontcha think?”

“Umm. How about that internship you were going for?”

“I still have three months left of college, once I'm done with that and I have the grades for it, I can apply.” You admitted as you got off the bar stool, not having eaten any of the food Leon gave you. Leon watched you while you were filling your glass with water and some ice to cool down. You drank it and watched Leon do the same, just with his glass of whiskey. “Isn't it a little too early to drink?” The words left your mouth before you were even thinking about it. Now it was Leon's turn to raise an eyebrow at your comment.

“Are you my mom or what now? I think I know when or when I cannot have a drink.” He snapped at you, which really surprised you.

"Obviously I am not. But that's not really responsible of you, is it? I just don't get it, why you're drinking at this time and so often in general the past weeks." You thought about what you were saying, realizing his drinking behavior dates back to the first time you even met. "I get that your job isn't easy and stuff but day drinking? Really? Seems kind of low to me, Leon."

Leon let out a laugh and shook his head. "If all you want to do now is complain you can leave. That's not what I wanted you here for."

You looked at him again with big eyes. "So you don't wanna talk? I don't know what it is that’s between us, but it can't always be good and fun. I'm literally just worried about your health!"

"Worried? I think I know what's good for me much better than you do, I'm not the child here." He spat at you as he drank from his glass.

"So if you’re not ‘the child’ does that mean that I am?” You looked at him speechless. “That's how you see me? I understand that I'm a lot younger than you but I'm not a child! And just because I'm trying to talk about something serious? What is going on with you Leon?" He didn't even look at you. Instead he poured himself another drink and took a sip. You shook your head and let out a scoff. You then grabbed your jacket and went to the door. Before leaving you looked back to Leon, hoping he would apologize or stop you from leaving, instead you got nothing. You slammed the door behind you shut and you heard something break. “A fucking mansion and his front door cant even handle a slam..” You muttered to yourself as you went over to your car. Angrily you left his driveway and drove in the direction of home.

Your roommate was home for the holidays, leaving you in your apartment alone. Rather than sitting on the couch feeling sorry for yourself you tried to get some work done.

Looking for jobs was much harder than you remember. “Host. Nope. Grocery store worker. Eh, I guess that could work. Stripper?! Hm, if I'm desperate enough, maybe…” You spent hours looking and applying to jobs, most of them being just over minimum wage but any money is better than none.

Eventually you gave up and just began to watch TV on your laptop, endlessly flicking through the channels available to you. Since none of it looked interesting you put on something random and picked up your sketchbook. As the noise played in the background and your pencil ran across the paper your eyelids became heavier and heavier, those combined with the fact that it was now eleven at night.

The sound of your phone vibrating on your wooden desk ripped you from your sleep. At first you ignored it, being far too tired to want to actually open your eyes. It started to vibrate again. You rubbed your eyes, trying to see clearly in the dark and waking yourself up. You looked at your phone confused, wondering who wanted you so late at night. You unlocked it and looked at the time first. “Almost two in the morning... damn”, you muttered to yourself. After that you checked your notification and let out a sigh. Multiple messages from Leon just in the past few hours you were asleep. You didn't even bother looking at them, knowing that he was drunk. Most of the messages didn't even make sense and there was no way to read or understand them. Before locking the phone again, an unknown number called you. Unsure about who it could be, you waited for the call to end. But soon after the same number called again. You let out a sigh, answering the call. "Hello? Can I help you?" You asked tiredly. You didn't recognize the voice talking to you, but you could hear Leon mumbling in the background. The person told you something about Leon being totally wasted and that he requested for you to come and pick him up. Unsure about what to do, especially after the argument you had earlier, you still agreed to picking him up. You ended the call and put your phone away. Putting your head in your hands, you let out another sigh and shook your head. You quickly went to your kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, needing caffeine otherwise you would fall asleep before you even got to Leon.

As you grabbed your jacket, phone and coffee you looked at your car keys and shoved them into your pocket. You knew you couldn’t take your car as you didn’t want to leave it at the bar considering it was twenty miles from home. “Why couldn’t he have gone to a local bar?”

You waited outside in the rain for a taxi to come and pick you up. You’d be sure to charge this cost on Leon’s credit card.

Faint music was in the background as you walked through the door to ‘Billy’s Bar’ and it only took you a second to find Leon. “Buttercup!” He waved and blew a kiss at you the second he spotted you.

“Hey Leon.” You somewhat smiled as you sat down next to him at the bar. “What mess have you gotten yourself into?” You muttered as you waved over the bartender, them giving you the bill. “How can you rack up eighty dollars in one night?”

You searched Leon’s pockets for his wallet but came up empty. “Woah there Buttercup, let’s go home first before you start to pull my pants off.” You simply rolled your eyes at his drunk comment.

You groaned as you gave up the search for his wallet and eventually you just placed your own stack of cash on the bar, giving a little extra for the bartender as a tip. “Come on.” You got off the stool. “Let’s get you home.” Leon got off his stool and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Jesus Leon, don’t do that…” You wiped the kiss off of you and shook your head as the two of you left the bar and into the pouring rain. “Keys?” You held out your hand and he placed his keys in your palm. The keys to one of his fancy cars that you don't even know the name of but you were pretty sure that it was an Audi of some sort. It had four doors and four wheels, good enough.

“I can drive Butterc- cup.” He hiccuped as he talked, proving just how much he shouldn’t drive.

“I’ll be fine…” You clicked the keys and the lights on the car flashed. You took Leon to the passenger side of the car and forced him off of you as you opened the door for him. He leant on the roof to help himself into his seat and you then closed the door behind him. “Alright, it’s just like my car… just a lot quicker and a lot more expensive…” You mumbled to yourself as you hopped in the driver’s seat and started the engine. The loud roar was enough to make you almost pee yourself due to your nerves.

You gripped your hands on the steering wheel and put the car into drive. The car immediately shot forward and you instantly slammed on the breaks, causing Leon to bash his face on the dashboard. “Oh fuck!” You put the car into park and looked at Leon’s nose. “I’m so sorry.” You carefully brushed your hand on his nose and luckily it didn’t feel as if it was broken.

“I’m fine…” Leon’s eyes rolled back in his head and he leant back in his seat. You simply huffed at him and leant over him, grabbing his seatbelt. As you went back to your seat you sighed at him as you looked at him sleeping.

You buckled your own seatbelt and started the car again, now more carefully. You checked all the buttons and hoped for the best as you left the parking spot slowly. Before you stepped on the gas once more to drive onto the street you looked over to Leon, who was now half asleep. Just sometimes he looked up again or out the window without saying anything. Which was probably better because he wouldn't say anything useful anyway in his state. You drove on the main street and gripped the wheel, concentrating on the dark and rainy road before you. You tried putting on some music but soon shut it off again because it just irritated you. So you just drove around silently trying to find a way to Leon's house. Every now and then Leon muttered something, more to himself than to you. You shook your head blaming yourself for his behavior. Letting out a sigh you concentrated on the road again and silently went on.

You drove for around five minutes before Leon began to get bored. “Buttercup?”

“Hey Leon…” You replied to him, keeping your eyes on the road because you didn’t want to swerve into a ditch.

“You’re the best.” You could see him smile at you in the corner of your eye. He held out his hand and you simply ignored it. “Please?” He wiggled his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. You scoffed as you dropped your right hand from the wheel, placing your hand in his. “I love you, Buttercup.” He smiled at you again but you simply ignored it.

“You’re drunk, Leon.” You took your hand back from him, in annoyance.

You wanted him to say that he loved you, but not like this, not in a drunk slur. “I’m serious.”

"Yea, sure you are." You rolled your eyes and looked straight to the street, not giving him anymore attention.

"You're so mean, Buttercup." He began whining like a little child which made you laugh sarcastically.

"You’re behaving like a child now, Leon. I told you earlier today that it doesn't have anything to do with ages." You shook your head, thinking about the argument from earlier.

"I'm sorryyy..for snapping at you like that earlier.. do you forgive me? Pleaseeee Buttercup.." You raised your eyebrow at his apology, not thinking much of it.

"I can't forgive you when all you do is lie when you’re drunk. Say sorry again when you're sober and we'll see." You felt him moving in his seat, now directly facing you. You gave him a short look and tried pushing him back into his seat. "Leon, please sit down correctly. I can't concentrate like this."

He had a smug smile on his face now. "Am I all you can concentrate on now?" Leon came closer to you and you backed up, now shoving him away with your right hand. The road in front of you was still slippery and dark and you couldn't drive like this. In a short motion you stepped on the brakes and stopped at the side of the street. Now facing Leon as well you tried pushing him back into his own seat, hoping he would leave you alone now. He still resisted and even though he was totally drunk he still was stronger than you. He grabbed your wrists and came closer to you, almost sitting on your lap now. You were able to keep some distance with your legs but it wasn't an easy task. "Buttercuuup.." He began again as he started playing with your fingers. "I'm serious.. I loveee you, since the first time I met you." You looked at him, searching his face. People always say that drunk people speak the truth but a part in you didn't want to believe it. Not because you didn't have feelings for Leon, but this whole situation seemed wrong to you. You realized it wouldn't get you far when arguing in this state so you just let him talk, not giving it much thought. Leon continued talking but he soon noticed you didn't even listen anymore. As soon as he came closer to you again you snapped back to reality.

You unfastened your seatbelt and got out of the car. You walked through the rain to Leon's side of the car and also opened his door. He looked at you confused but didn't say anything. You loosened his seatbelt and almost threw him out of his seat and out the car. He just about caught his balance, looking at you perplexed. You tried finding the right words but didn't even know what you were doing here. Leon leaned on the side of the car, already totally soaking wet. "Leon, I don't know what's going on with you but I can't continue driving when you keep on annoying me like that! So please just shut up or we're gonna stay out here until you're sober again, I don't care!" You shouted towards him, hoping he would even hear you through the loud and heavy rain. You came closer to him again, waiting for an answer. It seemed like hours passed, but Leon didn't say a thing. You groaned and opened the back door. You grabbed Leon's arm and pushed him inside. Overwhelmed by the sudden force, he fell into the backseat taking you with him. So now you lay on top of Leon, both of you totally wet. You felt Leon's warm breath and also the smell of alcohol. You suddenly felt hot and everything around you seemed to stop, all you saw was Leon. He looked you deep in the eyes and you into his. Without even thinking about it, you felt Leon's big hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to his face. And the next thing you felt were his lips on yours. For a split second you leaned into the kiss, before realizing what was happening. In an instant you shot up and pushed yourself away from Leon. He looked at you, confused and heartbroken. "Leon. Let's just get you home now." You helped him put on a seatbelt without speaking another word and then went back to the driver's seat. The rest of the drive home neither of you spoke a word but every now and then you felt Leon staring at you from the back.

Finally you arrived at his home. Even though it was raining you could still make out the driveway and main door. You didn't bother parking the car in his garage, so you stopped in front of the door. You took the keys and before leaving the car you looked back at Leon. He wasn't asleep. He looked out the window, like most of the time during the ride. It reminded you of a child that wanted to stop at the local McDonald's but his parents didn't want to. You shook your head and tried hiding your smile. After that you left the car and also helped Leon out. Both of you didn't say a word as you walked to the door. Leon's arm was around your back for balance but you didn't mind it. It was better than letting him walk alone and him ending up injuring himself. You opened the front door, which was unlocked to your surprise. Apparently no one in this house thinks it could be possible that a thief would come here to say hello. You took off your own jacket which was totally drenched and hung it up. You then did the same for Leon, without any words exchanging either.

"I should probably get you something dry to wear. You're gonna get sick otherwise." You said more to yourself than to Leon but he still heard you and agreed.

"Let's.. just go upstairs and change there. It doesn't matter if the house gets dirty." Leon already started walking towards the stairs but you soon followed after noticing how he couldn't even walk straight. You then helped him upstairs and you went into the bathroom.

"I'll get you something to sleep in, just.. sit here and don't move. Can you do that for me?" He nodded silently and you left the room. You went into his bedroom and got some pajamas for him and also something for you to wear. As you entered the bathroom you found Leon sitting in the bathtub, naked. Even though you've seen him half naked before this wasn't what you wanted to see. Covering your eyes you threw his pajamas over. Obviously he didn't catch them so now they were lying next to him. "Jesus, Leon. What are you doing? I asked one thing of you and-"

"Sorry, Buttercup.. I just didn't want to freeze." He put his legs closer to him and rested his head on top of them. You shook your head and even though you didn't want to, you had to agree with him. You were also cold and wearing wet clothes didn't help. You sighed and looked at him. "Are you gonna shower by yourself or do you need help?" You felt like his caretaker right now but you also couldn't leave him hanging now. He looked at you with big eyes, which basically begged for you to help him. You sighed once again before walking over to him. You started the shower making sure it was warm enough. It was just a quick way of warming him up, not wanting to spend any more time with a naked and drunk Leon. After you were done you helped him out of the bathtub and put him into a towel. After drying him a little bit you helped him get into his pajamas and walked him into his bedroom. You watched him get into bed and before taking a shower yourself you saw him drifting off into a deep sleep. Closing the door behind you silently you went back into the bathroom and took a shower and changed into some of Leon's clothing. Nothing too special but at least it would keep you warm. After you put all the wet clothes away you went downstairs to try to get some sleep as well. You entered the living room and lay down on the big couch. Just a few minutes later you felt sleep take over and take you into a world of dreams.

You woke up the next morning to Angel's voice. "Hey there. Sorry to wake you up, I just wanted to see you before heading out again." You sat up and stretched, looking at Angel. "Thank you for bringing Leon home. I wasn't home yesterday and.. I'm sorry you had to see him like that." You shook your head, putting a hand on Angel's shoulder.

"Don't apologize for that. It's no big deal.. I think. Does this happen often? He was so.. weird yesterday." You looked down, feeling guilty for snapping at Leon like that yesterday, maybe being the reason for him ending up drunk.

"It's, well, it happened before. He always likes to drink but I'm not sure what's going on to be honest. But don't worry, okay? It has nothing to do with you or anything. Chances are high he's just fed up with work, I don't blame him." You nodded, smiling at Angel now. She then stood up and gave you a small smile before turning to leave. Before leaving though she turned back to you. "I prepared some coffee for you and Leon. Maybe try waking him up. And.. try not to be too mad at him, would you?" She waved to you one more time before leaving the room and soon the house.

You got your two mugs of coffee and you went up the stairs to wake up Leon. As you put your hand on the doorknob you could already hear his snoring so you made sure to be quiet. He laid face up on the bed and his hair was extremely messy, so rather than waking him up like you originally planned you just sat on the chair by the window and drank your coffee. The rain from last night was still just as terrible, if not worse to the point where you couldn't even look out the window, you needed some other source of entertainment. You picked up one of the books that Angel had placed in there as decor and began to read it. It was only a small book, something about a knight in shining armor there to save the princess, just like all the other fairy tales. As you were reaching the end of the book you could hear Leon beginning to stir, his breathing had become a lot lighter and his snoring had stopped, meaning he was pretty much awake now. You took another sip from your coffee and you could see Leon sitting up in bed. He had his hand on his head and you could tell that it was pounding. “Good morning, Sleepyhead.” You gave him a faint smile as you tapped the table, another mug of coffee waiting for Leon.

He groaned as he waved his arm at you, wanting you to bring the coffee to him. At first you just shook your head at him and clicked your tongue but he wouldn't give up, you were too tired to argue about it so you just sat on the side of the bed, your back facing him. “You’re mad."

“You think?” You snapped at him, still looking forward, at the blank wall in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Buttercup.” He sat up properly and shuffled towards you, being careful not to spill his cold coffee. “I was being stupid. I had a bad morning and I just wanted to chill out for the rest of the day, have a nice drink and just relax by the pool or something.”

“Oh so me arriving for a surprise visit, that's what derailed your day?” You turned to face him and you could tell that the two cogs in his brain were working overtime.

“What? No!” He shook his head as he tried to get a grasp on the situation. “I overreacted to you asking about my drinking problem-”

“Oh so now you admit that it's a problem?” You interrupted him, by now your body was fully turnt to him, just by your body language he knew that you were more than just pissed at him.

“It’s always been a problem.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can try and explain it.” You simply huffed at him, wanting to hear his excuse but still wanting him to know that you're angry. “After Raccoon City I began to get pretty bad nightmares. Like really, really bad nightmares. You can guess why.” You simply nodded at it, feeling guilty now that you got him to explain. “I couldn’t sleep for weeks at a time, so I tried my best to just keep myself busy. Hobbies, people, anything. I would sometimes go out to bars and whatnot and I figured out that after a few drinks I would usually sleep better that night.” He adjusted himself in bed so that he was fully sitting upright, his full attention on you as he talked. “I’ve been doing it for years, Buttercup. It’s just a hobby I guess.”

You didn’t really know what to say. Sure you lived with college kids so you were around drinking fanatics 24/7 but an actual alcoholic? You didn’t have much experience.

“Buttercup, I’ve tried everything.” He leant forward and grabbed your hand, rather than you recoiling like the night before you accepted it and you shuffled yourself closer to him, sitting cross legged next to him on the bed. You hesitated before leaning your head on his shoulder and also grabbing his hand.

"I don't know how I can help, Leon. But you can't continue like this. I.. I didn't recognize you yesterday, you were so different. I don't want to worry about you, when you're out for a drink. I just-" You looked up to him with big eyes, some tears forming inside them. You felt so helpless and even bad for not noticing anything earlier. Leon squeezed your hand.

"Shh.. it's okay, Buttercup. After I met you, I tried to stop drinking, you can even ask Angel. But the nightmares never end. The only time I was able to sleep through the night was.. when you were here and slept next to me. Knowing I wasn't alone, feeling you next to me, it helped me." You blushed and gave him a small smile, but deep down you knew this wouldn't help long-term.

"Even if I stay here to sleep in your bed, you will always want to drink. And I can't be here with you all the time. You need.. we need something else to fix this problem." You took a deep breath. "Leon, I think you need professional help. Like, I don't know, medication to help you sleep?" You looked at him unsure of what you could do to help.

"I tried that before, Buttercup. I swear I tried it many times before but I also fell back into this habit. I can't change it anymore." You shook your head.

"No Leon, stop saying stuff like this. You may have tried before but.. now I'm here. I'll help you. I promise I will not leave your side, we will do this together. We can work in small steps, you hear me? Like.. you always drink your whiskey with ice, right? What about you trying to put in less alcohol and more ice? Step by step? It's worth a shot and this way it isn't cold withdrawal. What do you say?" You looked at him with big eyes, kind of proud of your idea. A small smile rested on Leon's face as he looked at you.

"It's worth a shot. But don't get your hopes up too high. This won't be easy and.. if things don't work out, I don't know who I'll be then."

"Leon. I am not leaving you alone now. We will do this together and no matter what happens, I'll be here. I believe in you." You lay your arms around him and hugged him. You felt his arms around your body and smiled. After a short while you let go of him. Both of you took a sip of your stone cold coffee and sat there in silence, the only sound being the rain outside the house.

You saw Leon fidgeting around and looked at him questioningly. Before you could ask what he was thinking about he began speaking. "You know, uhm, what I said yesterday. I meant it. Sure, I was drunk and all but…", he turned to you. "I love you. I have for a long time now but I didn't know how to say it. But I really do." You looked at Leon with big eyes, shocked that he would bring this topic up again. Unsure of what to say you stood up and walked around the room. Leon's gaze followed you and you felt bad for not saying anything. After walking up and down you finally sat back next to him again. "Leon, I.. I don't know what to say. I mean.. I. God. Leon. I love you. I really do." You let out a small laugh. This whole situation felt so bizarre to you. You saw a big smile growing on Leon's face and you had to return it. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you to him. You looked each other in the eyes, knowing what both of you needed now. Leon closed the gap between you two and after so long you kissed him. Without being drunk. Just a real and honest kiss, both of you wanting it and knowing it was the right thing. “So what was the bad news that you got yesterday morning?” You asked him as you pulled away.

“I have to go to Italy for a job.” He smirked. “But I think I might drag you along with me, we can have some time together once I'm done with work.” You thought about the offer for a split second before agreeing.

"At least I don't have a job where I have to ask for permission anymore." You jokingly said, trying to make the best of the situation.

"Well then we have a plan. Sooo, you better get home and pack your things. We should be at the airport early tomorrow morning. I'll text you the time and pick you up. Sounds good?" You nodded before going for another kiss. You stayed at Leon's house for a while longer before eventually going home and packing your stuff. You were excited to be by his side at a job and couldn't wait for it anymore. God knows what you've gotten yourself into...

----

Taglist: @trinswhimsys @dixanadu @oppsie--channie

#resident evil vendetta #re2 #re4 #re6 #leon Kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader

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falling-pages · 3 years

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Coffee Break: Hawks x Reader

Hi lovelies, I’m back with considerably better mental health. I’m still taking writing a bit at a time, slowly, taking my time editing and researching to improve, but I’m finally able to produce content I love again. I’m finally recovering all the joy of writing and now I’m focusing on writing what makes me happy. Thank you for all the sweet messages and support, it means the world to me :)

Quirkless Reader x Hero Hawks

Fluff

Warnings: None

“Americano with almond milk for you, chai latte for me.”

You had been so focused on your report that you didn’t even notice the window opening and your winged boyfriend climbing through until he slid your favorite drink in front of you. The smell was heavenly, steaming through the paper cup bearing your local shop’s logo. Your fingers still against the keyboard as you reach for it, stretching out your cramped digits. After typing for hours, any sort of movement sent discomfort rattling up your hands.

“Thanks, Kei,” you say as he hovers behind you, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

He bent to wrap his arms and wings around you, clutching you close in your chair as you cradled your coffee to your chest. The little cocoon he had suddenly made enveloped you in warmth, cutting off your view of the computer with his beautiful red plumage. All you could see, sense, and smell was him.

He ran his lips up to your temple, the shell of your ear, the spot beneath your earlobe, giving little pecks of affection while he had you under his wings. What good were those wings, anyways, if he couldn’t use them to comfort you?

“Are you nearly done, dove?” he asked, snuggling his face into your hair. “You’ve been at this for hours. Honestly I didn’t know if you were human or one of those robots the captcha quizzes ask about.”

You chuckle, leaning back against his chest. The coffee is still extremely hot, and though your tired brain begs for it, you hold off until it cools down. Keigo gets fussy when you slurp your coffee too quickly and burn yourself. “I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Isn’t that some poem?” he asks. “Some American poet?”

“Robert Frost.” You twist your neck to look at him. “You remembered? You’re no poet.”

“But you are. And you quote a lot of them depending on the day.”

“Because they are applicable to my situation.” You turn back and move his feathers away from your computer, making a landing space for your still piping hot drink beside it. The bright white screen welcomes you back harshly, black lines of text still existing. When his red curtain shields you from it, you have a habit of forgetting it exists. Maybe that’s the point--making you forget your worries with kisses and gifts.

You try to lean forward to type again, but his arms hold you back. “Kei, thank you for the coffee, but I have to keep reading this report.”

“You’ve read it three times already tonight!” he whines. “The thing is 50 pages. I don’t know how your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”

He sends a feather to lightly touch the coozie around your coffee. Both he and the feather flinch at the contact. “At least wait until your coffee cools down,” he says. “Please? For me?”

Though the man is part bird, he can pull a very convincing puppy face. It’s true, you have gotten to the point where the lines have blurred into one massive pile of digital ink. And his plush wings and warm breath on your neck are oh so inviting.

“How did you know I’ve read it three times?” you ask softly, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“Hawks are very observant creatures,” he says. “They know when their lovebirds are tired.”

You sigh, allowing yourself to give up the ghost and slump against his collarbone. As much as you wanted to keep making revisions to the report, you knew you would force yourself into another all-nighter if you didn’t stop now. You had pulled three already this week, and Keigo had grown frustrated of going to bed alone. If you stayed up again, he would likely take matters into his own hands.

Breaks increase productivity, right?

“Okay,” you relent. “But only until my coffee cools.”

He chirps happily, sending a feather to close your laptop while he scoops you into his arms. The chirps were something you had to get used to, but once he cooed in your ear in his sleep, you couldn’t help but fall in love. He had tried so hard to hide his avain traits in the beginning of your relationship, still wary of all that the Commission had instilled in him, but with you he was free to be the man-bird hybrid his spirit longed to be--chirps, feathers, and nesting included.

You snatch your cup right before he picks you up. He brings you to the couch, where he lies down on his back and settles you against his chest, making you leave your drink on the coffee table. As you lie against him, head against his heart while his lips graze the top of your crown, his wings flutter over you and wrap in to swaddle the two of you together. Abdomen warmed by his body heat, legs tangled up in his, the throaty coos in your ear, his heartbeat slowly lulling you into peace...you knew what he was trying to do.

“I can’t sleep yet, Birdie,” you whisper, drawing a pattern with your finger on his other pec. “As much as I’d like to, this is just a little break. I can come to bed tonight if I get all my reading done.”

“You work so much,” he sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the top of your head. “I think you need to relax a bit.”

“Cuddling you is relaxing,” you say, and though your voice hitched as if to continue, you left the sentence there. He already knew how hard you, being quirkless, had to work to make anything of yourself. It was hard enough to get a minimum wage job without some sort of quirk, much less get into law school, where rich prep kids with genetically-perfect powers took all the top ranks. You might have graduated top of your commoner class, but even your best strategies and most cut-throat arguments couldn’t hold a candle to those born with sharp tongues and persuasive tones. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you could represent other quirkless clients--and, in that, maybe fight the discrimination you had grown up with.

“Lovebird.”

You turn to him, yanked out of your insecurities when you hear his soft voice utter a pet name only for you. Others might be dominating your class, but none of them were dating a certain winged hero.

“I don’t know how to make you see yourself the way I see you,” he said simply, reaching a hand through your hair. “I wish you could. God, I wish you could see how perfect you are, why I adore you so much. Why it hurts to see you pushing yourself beyond your healthy limit.”

A chord struck you. You knew your hectic lifestyle wasn’t the healthiest, but it never occurred to you that it hurt him. But, looking back, you should have known all the neglected attention and lonely nights, despite being just a room away, would affect him deeply.

He had deep abandonment issues, and he was likely reliving all of that now.

Keigo took a deep breath, running his fingers down your arm. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you. I know I can be clingy, and I’ve been trying to get better, but your schooling comes first. I don’t want to take that away from you just because I’m needy.”

“Kei,” you sigh, shifting under his wings. You turned onto your stomach, forearms on either side of his face, chest pressed against chest. He lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting his wings slightly so you could move. His eyes slowly scanned your face. “You don’t have to apologize. You never bother me.”

He smiled, tucking your closer beneath his wings. “Really?”

Despite his usual sass and arrogant tone in hero work, his voice is sincere, his eyes shining. The predator in him relaxes into a more docile state.

“Really.” You smooth back his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me. Now, I believe my coffee has cooled.”

You push back the curtain of plumage and reach for your drink, rolling off of him to sit by his side. As soon as you raise the cup to your lips and take that blessed first sip, you know something is wrong.

“You got me decaf.”

Your voice is hard, scaling wildly back from the soft words you had uttered against his chest. He giggles, covering his mouth with his hands, but it doesn’t hide the red mirth coloring his skin.

“How could you!” You whine, bouncing up and away from him.

“You need to sleep!” he says. “You have been up all night the last few days, and I need you to sleep.”

You sniffle, blinking quickly to produce fake tears. “You traitor.”

Keigo rises to hug you, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispers. As repulsed as you are, his hugs are too nice to refuse. “I’m only trying to take care of you.”

“I know. But next time--”

“Hmm?”

“You’re buying me regular.”

If you enjoy what I write, please consider buying me a coffee :)

#hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #bnha #mha #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #hawks fluff #hawks x reader fluff

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sarahlynnirl · 3 years

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Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

#terf safe #terfs please touch #terfs please interact #radfem #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radical feminism #terf #swerfs please interact #swerf #anti prostitution #addiction #recovery #terfs do touch #sugardadddy

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finleyfray · 3 years

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Bittersweet Memories

Part 2

Part 3

Huge thanks to @captain-josslett for helping me with English and making this have more sense

TW: smut(ish) just a little, some angst, laguage, think that’s all!

Finley struggles to open the door to their apartment. She was tired and her head was hurting so much. She just wants to snuggle with her girlfriends and fall asleep.

“Hey.” Fin looks over and sees Alex walking towards her and embraces her in a hug. “You look like crap.” Fin rests her head on Alex's chest and chuckles.

“Thanks darling, I’m happy to see you too. Is Maggie home yet?” She yawns and Alex leads her to the couch. “I have a killing headache.” Fin sits on Alex and rests her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“She’s picking up some food. Did you take your migraine medicine today?” The redhead asks Fin with a stern look on her face.

“Shoot, I forgot.” The black haired woman whines.

“Here we go again.” Alex sighs. “Did you drink water today? Eat anything?”

“Oh come on, don’t harass me like that. Of course I did drink and eat... we had breakfast, didn’t we?”

“That was yesterday, Finley, this morning you woke up too late and ran off to work. Making a huge mess. Leaving your clothes on the floor. And your wet towel in the bathroom on my clothes. I swear to God, how much water did you drink?” Alex scoffs.

“Well...I didn’t see your clothes, I’m sorry. I didn’t drink water... but I’ve had coffee! And a can of Monster! Or two…” Suddenly her girlfriend stands up, resulting in Fin falling off of her. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“That’s not... I swear I’m going crazy with you!” They hear the door open and Maggie coming into the living room looking at them.

“What are you yelling about?” She frowns and looks at Alex, who looks angrily at Fin. “Maggie, I’m glad you’re here.” The redhead says with a smile. “See, our girlfriend here was wondering why her head hurts so much! Fin, care to tell Maggie how you took your medicine this morning, drank plenty of water and ate three meals?” Her voice is full of sarcasm and Finley curses mentally.

“Oh come on. I’m going to eat now, and drink water and take meds, I swear I just forgot!” She tries to defend herself, but Maggie already looks at her with her stern mother look. “Don’t be mad at me.” Fin puts on her puppy face. “Pwaaseee.” She pouts.

“No, no, don’t give me this face, you know the deal. How can you forget to take care of yourself almost every day?!” Maggie growls flustered. “These are literally the basic things in life. You have to eat, and you have to drink water to survive, and you know after that mission where you hurt your head pretty bad, that you have to take your migraine medicine, otherwise you’ll be in pain. And you should remember it, how you keep forgetting to take care of yourself is beyond me.”

“I don’t know...” Finley looks down, because she did know. She wasn’t taught how to take care of herself. In the orphanage they didn’t care if the kids ate something, they didn’t care if they had something to drink, or walked around in dirty, damaged clothes.

So Fin learnt how to go days without eating, only drinking some sink water. It was normal for Fin. So she grew up, was then thrown out on her 18th birthday, and went to college. She didn’t think of that either. Having not enough money to eat every day, or buy new clothes, having to survive on minimum wage that she was earning with her job. It was hard to manage to study and work 16 hours a day, but she had to stay positive. So when Finley started working in the DEO and earning so much money, she decided she had to save it. Save it in case something goes wrong and she loses her job. But, this drove her girlfriends insane. How she couldn’t do the basic thing, like putting her dirty clothes away. How every time she tried to make laundry, it went wrong on some level. She’d mix dark clothes with white. Sometimes she forgot to add laundry detergent. Or she forgot she put the washing machine on but forgot to dry it. So the clothes stayed there until Alex or Maggie saw it. Finley really tries, she does, but it just escapes her mind every time.

“I’m sorry.” Fin sighs, she wasn’t going to tell them, she doesn't want their pity “I guess I’m just getting distracted.” Maggie scoffs, but goes to hug their girlfriend anyway. Soon Alex joins and they stay together for a bit.

“I did buy dinner, so let’s get you some food, and water, then you’ll take your medicine and we can go to bed.” Maggie kisses her softly and Finley smiles into the kiss.

***

Later as they were in bed, after eating and showering, Finley lay on top of Alex while Maggie was still in the shower.

“Are you still mad at me?” Fin asks, looking in her girlfriend’s brown eyes.

“I’m not mad Finnie.” Alex sighs cupping Fin's cheek. “I was frustrated, of course, I will still be when you do this. But I’m not mad.” She kisses Finley softly, her other hand going to Finley’s back holding her close. The blue-eyed woman sighs happily and wiggles on top of Alex to get more comfortable.

“Fin...” Alex breathes heavily “Stop moving.”

“Why, does it bother you?” Finley smiled devilishly, pressing her leg against Alex’s core and moving her hips. The redhead kisses her girlfriend hard and bends her leg so it was now against Finley too. The shorter woman moans at the sudden pressure, and moves her hips faster.

“Oh, I see you’re better.” Maggie stands there watching her girlfriends making out and humping each other for a few minutes. “So I’m glad I decided not to put any clothes on.” Her girlfriend’s stop and looks at her. Maggie's hair was still wet from the shower, and she only had her towel on. “Can you two just be naked already?” She drops her towel on the floor. “That was quite a nice show you did for me. But, I’m afraid I need to cuff both of you for breaking the rules.”

“B… But... “Alex’s face was almost as red as her hair “We didn’t… We still have all clothes on! We didn’t had sex without you!” She looked at Finley, who already had taken all of her clothes off, she sure was ready. “You’re such a bottom!” Alex scoffs, sure the black-haired woman was so ready for Maggie to cuff her, but Alex tried hard to remain her tough face.

“Agent Danvers, I’m afraid I insist.” Maggie smirks at her redheaded girlfriend, swaying her hips as she approaches the bed.

***

Finley yawns as she opens her eyes and looks at the sleeping face of her girlfriend. The redhead was snoring lightly and she looked so peaceful and cute. Fin snuggles closer and rests her head on her girlfriend's chest.

She knew Maggie had already left for work, feeling a cold spot behind her. The blue-eyed woman was tired after all the fun they had yesterday and didn’t want to get up.

“Shouldn’t you be training rookies at work today?” Alex’s sleepy voice asks. Fin gasps as she realises that the redhead is right, she springs from her bed and looks at the clock.

“Ohhhh shit, J’onn is going to kill me!” She quickly undresses by dropping her clothes on the floor and goes for a quick shower. As fast as she can she dries herself and drops the wet towel on the floor, puts on her combat clothes and runs to work.

It was no fun being at work without Alex, but her girlfriend deserved a day off. They were supposed to have lunch together, but after some robbery that Kara helped Maggie take care of, the blonde informs Fin that her girlfriends can’t make it, so the black-haired woman takes care of all her paperwork that is due soon, and heads to the DEO gym to train a bit.

Finley was getting tired from all the punches and running, so she decided to stop and go take a shower. Suddenly she sees a blur and her girlfriend’s sister stands before her.

“Kara, hey, something wrong?” Finley asks as the blonde frowns and looks at her.

“Ohhhh shit. I forgot, I left my phone at home this morning. What’s the time?” Fin facepalms and looks at Kara.

“Well Alex asked me to look for you, cause you didn’t answer your phone. You do know what time it is?”

“Where the fuck have you been!? We tried to call you thousands of times, why didn’t you answer!?” Maggie tries to stay calm, but her voice is full of anger.

“It’s 10:30, and your girlfriends are going crazy, come on.” She lifts the black-haired woman and speeds her home.

“Thanks Kar.” Finley sighs and opens the door quietly. It doesn’t really help her as she sees Maggie and Alex in the hall waiting for her.

“I’m sorry! I was in such a rush this morning, I forgot my phone! And I went to work out after sitting down doing paperwork and the time just flew.” Finley tries to calm her girlfriends, but she clearly saw that they were beyond pissed.

They turn and go to the living room, and Fin follows them waiting for their forgiveness. Alex sits on the couch and drinks the rest of her whiskey.

“Guys, come on, I’m sorry, you know I just forgot-”

“That’s it, that’s exactly it! You always forget. Forget to eat, to drink water, to take your medicine. You forget to put your clothes away, forget to do the laundry, forget to go to sleep! Forget to take your phone, to let us know you’ll be late, to let us know you’re okay! Forget to do the groceries, forget to buy some new clothes, to put your towel away instead of dropping it on the floor!” Alex was standing now waving her hands angrily. “Well maybe you got that from your parents, seeing as they forgot you at the orphanage!”

Finley blinks as Alex suddenly goes silent. Her blue eyes are suddenly wet and she turns around and rushes out of their apartment.

***

Maggie looks at Alex in shock. She can’t believe her ears. Alex did not just say that.

“Danvers, what the fuck was that!?” Maggie rushes to the door to follow Finley, and stop her, they need to talk, this is not a good situation. But as soon as she’s outside, Finley is gone, there is no sign of her. She goes back to their apartment and searches for her keys.

“Why are you just standing there like that?! Do you realise what you’ve just done?! That was way too low, I can’t believe you just said that!” Maggie yells at her girlfriend, she was beyond mad. Yes, Fin drives her crazy sometimes, but that doesn’t explain Alex’s behaviour.

“I... I didn’t mean that! It just slipped!” Alex tries to explain herself, but her mind is still processing what just happened. “I didn’t want to say that, I’m sorry!”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to. It’s her, but guess what, she’s gone! And we need to find her, and you really need to try hard, because that, Alex, that was just unbelievable.”

“Where do you think she went?” Alex asked, trying to calm down her nerves. Her mind repeats the words she just said and Alex realises how awful she’d been. But she really didn’t mean to, she wasn’t thinking at the moment, her mouth just shot out the words on its own.

When Maggie and Alex started dating Finley, the younger woman never said anything about her family. Of course the first one she met, outside of them, was Alex's younger sister. With it being autumn, and thanksgiving, she soon met Eliza and Maggie aunt Vivian. And she saw how Fin was in awe seeing how both women cared for their children. When Alex and Maggie asked her about it, she told them that she had spent most of her life in an orphanage, but refused to say any more. So they agreed they’ll just wait till Finley is ready and tell them on her own. This was 2 years ago, but Finley still hadn’t talked to them about it.

And now Alex fucked up, and told her girlfriend, an orphan, that her parents forgot about her. She isn’t sure how Finley is ever going to forgive her. Hell she doesn’t even know if she can forgive herself. Maggie looks at her, and Alex realises that she failed her too. Sure, the shorter woman tries not to give away her anger, but she sees her eyes, and the Detective is really mad at her.

“I don’t know, she doesn’t really have any friends... Kara? No, that would be too oblivious, she probably doesn't want us to find her now, she wouldn’t go there... You think she would go to any of our friends?” Maggie took a deep breath trying to calm herself enough to think clearly.

“No, I don’t think so. She can’t be that far, she just left. You think she went to a motel?”

“No, she hates spending her money. Doesn’t DEO have sleeping quarters?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah... it does...” Alex begins but her phone rings, she answers it “Danvers... Yes, we'll be coming in now.” She ends the call, and looks at Maggie “There’s an emergency at the DEO, your unit has been informed, J’onn said to bring you along.”

“Shit, alright. You’re good to go?” Maggie looks at her girlfriend, remembering Alex had been drinking earlier.

“I’ll be good, you drive.”

***

Finley walked to the DEO, trying hard to wipe her tears away. She didn’t want others to see her crying, that would be humiliating, but she couldn’t stop it.

Her mind kept repeating Alex’s words, she was not prepared for a woman she loves to hurt her like that. Why would she, she trusted them with her whole heart. Maybe that was her fault, maybe she should have kept that in mind. By now she would know that everyone in her life ended up hurting her.

It was like every time she was happy, it all came crashing down around her. She remembers the day she entered the orphanage for the first time, she was eight. There were so many kids there, just walking around, those kids were sad, but Fin? She was hopeful, she was actually happy that her father wasn’t there to hit her, she felt safe. But that feeling went away so fast, and her life was still a hell.

“Hey.” Fin jumps at J’onn voice. “You got here fast, where are your girlfriends? We have a debrief in five, we have to deal with this emergency quickly.”

Oh, so there is an emergency. That’s why he’s here. She nods and walks to the bathroom cleaning her face. Fin won’t let them all see her tears, she’s stronger than that. She enters the room and J’onn begins. Normally she would stand with her girlfriends but Fin hangs back.

“Cadmus is containing a shipment of hundreds of alien’s. We need to stop them. The NCPD unit is already informed, but it’ll take them a bit longer to arrive, so Detective Sawyer will go with you. Agent Danvers will be leading. Dismissed.” Finley avoids looking at her girlfriends, and walks as fast as she could to the armoury to prepare for the mission.

“Fin" Alex rushes after her.

“No!” Fin growls. “Right now I don’t have time for your bullshit Agent Danvers. We have a mission and that is my focus.” She didn’t mean to snap at Alex like that, but her sorrow was becoming her anger and she can’t be distracted. Distraction means slower reaction time, and that means injury or death. She wasn’t in the mood to die today.

***

The mission was going to plan and Fin kept up her professionalism. But with any mission, things can go wrong. It happened so fast, one second Fin is beating down a Cadmus agent when suddenly an explosion goes off above them. Finley hears the crack of concrete and looks up as a huge block of concrete starts breaking away. Right above Alex. Fin doesn’t think. Her only focus is on saving her girlfriend. Whatever it takes. So she sprints towards the redhead and pushes Alex as hard as she can out of the way. Fin falls to the ground as a huge bang fills the room. Fin tries to gasp when pain surges through her body.

“Fin!” Alex yells as she looks at her pinned girlfriend. She rushes over and is at Fin’s side in a second. “Why did you do that?!” Alex panics and tries to move the concrete to free her girlfriend, but it is too heavy. She looks at Finley, noticing that the concrete didn’t crush her whole. She allows herself to calm slightly. If her sister comes fast enough, it should be okay, Fin has a chance to survive. “Supergirl, come in, I need your help!” But she’s met with silence. “Supergirl! Maggie!?” Alex yells desperately.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Maggie responds worriedly.

“I can’t reach Supergirl, we’ve had an accident, Finley is trapped!” She hears Maggie gasp.

“I’m coming!” Maggie yells and Alex focuses on Finley, trying to comfort her. Soon Maggie is by their side. Alex looks up at her scared girlfriend and sees her tears as Maggie tries to suppress a sob.

“Fin. Finley talk to me.” Maggie kneels beside their fallen girlfriend.

“Hurts.” Fin chokes out.

“Alex, we need to move it! It’s crushing her!” They try to push it as hard as they can. “It’s not moving! Supergirl, come in! Please…” Maggie begs but she too is met with silence. “Damn it!” she pushes the block again.

Alex sobs and goes to sit behind her girlfriend, placing Fin’s head in her lap and stroking her short hair gently. She listens to Maggie as she yells trying to reach Kara.

“Why would you do that? Risk your life for me?” Alex looks at Finley’s blue eyes, and gently strokes her cheek.

“I... I’ll always save you...” Finley smiles sadly. She can’t feel her leg anymore and she feels dizzy. She doesn’t regret saving Alex, she would do anything to keep her girlfriends safe. But it’s getting harder to stay awake, and Fin doesn’t have the energy to try anymore. She is tired, so tired, she really hopes they would be okay, even without her. “I love you both… So much…” Finley whispers and her eyes flutter close.

“No. No, don’t close your eyes. Come on, Finley, please. KARA, COME ON!”

#sanvers x reader #maggie sawyer x reader #alex danvers x reader #sanvers x oc #maggie sawyer x oc #alex danvers x oc #alex danvers x maggie sawyer #polamory

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taylorinthetardis · 4 years

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Wallflowers - A Henry Cavill x Reader fic

So I did a thing! Rather than continue to work on my larger, more complicated Pride and Prejudice fic, I decided to make a fanfic out of the fantasy I had at work the other day!

There will most likely be a part two to this, I just thought I was at a good stopping point and wanted to see what you guys thought about it.

Full disclosure: I didn’t mean for this to whole ass turn into a Bath and Body Works ad, but it kinda did. For those of you reading in countries that do not have Bath and Body Works, its basically just a body and home care store. In the US their scents are legendary. Pretty much every young girl went through a BBW phase where that was all they used for soap and perfume. That all being said, in the interest of further disclosure and covering my ass, I own neither Bath and Body Works nor any of the trademarks on the scents listed herein. I also do not own Henry Cavill because owning human beings is a crime.

This is my first Henry fic so be gentle with me! It’s a bit longer than I had anticipated and un-beta’d.

Warnings: just a lot of fluff. some self-deprecation. loads of swearing. don’t know if I should warn for slight bashing of the religious but I will anyway so no one gets mad at me.

Wallflowers

It was shaping up to be another boring ass day at Bath and Body Works. I had started working here during the Pandemic after I was laid off from my job at the movie theatre. I had planned on it only being temporary, but even after things got better and I got my theatre job back, I decided to stick around. What can I say; a bitch is broke. Nothing wrong with double-dipping.

There was something about Sunday mornings in the mall. Probably because people around here still went to church in the mornings. Like it matters. Sunday mornings are always so slow, here and at the theatre, but the day always picks up after 1, when morning church services finish. It was me and Samantha up in the front room this morning, working out the leftover boxes from yesterday’s shipment. She was one of the first people I really bonded with here, both of us being super into both Marvel and DC, specifically Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill. They had just started filming the next Superman movie and they were going to be shooting scenes up in Michigan again, like they had for Dawn of Justice.

“I’m just saying, we should really consider asking for a few days off and just going up there and scoping it out. I mean, it’s Henry fucking Cavill. He’s less than an hour away from us. Right now. Less than an hour. When is that ever gonna happen again? I can use some of my vacation time at the theatre, so at least I’m not missing out on money from them. It’ll be a blast. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? We don’t see him? I mean at least we’d have tried. I’d rather try than stay down in stupid Ohio with the knowledge that he’s that close.”

“Do you really think Ann’s going to give us time off to stalk Superman?”

“We ain’t gonna tell her what it’s for! Just lie, c’mon now.” I laughed. I dropped a box of Gingham body cream into the understock drawer and broke the box down. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement, oh goodie, a customer. Samantha was quicker to greet them.

“Welcome to Bath and Body… OH MY GOD!” I turned around and was met with the sight of none other than Henry fucking Cavill, sheepishly running his hand through his now jet-black curls, obviously embarrassed at having been recognized. Damn, am I glad I put make-up on this morning. Alright Y/N, this is your fucking chance. For once in your damn life, be fucking cool. You can do this. You look good, you smell like Champagne Toast, you’ve got this. I pulled my hair down from its messy bun and shook it out a bit before walking over to where Samantha was still trying to collect herself. The store radio started playing Halsey’s Bad at Love and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the situation we were now in. Not five minutes ago we were talking about seeking him out and now here he was in all his brick-shithouse-ness. I looped my arm through Samantha’s in a show of support.

“What a wonderful coincidence! We were just talking about you and now here you are! It’s crazy how the universe works, isn’t it? I’m Y/N, this is Samantha; what can we help you with today, Henry?” I smiled my most adorable smile at him, the one that makes my little cheek dimple pop out, and, honestly, they both looked shocked. Samantha was clearly surprised that I was more capable of speech than she was, and to be honest so was I, and Henry seemed shocked that I would openly admit that we had been talking about him before he got there, which probably wasn’t a great thing to say, but I panicked.

“Well, I was told this was the best place to go for candles and air freshener-y type things. The house I’m renting just has this odd odour that I can’t get rid of. I’ve been airing it out during the day, all the windows open, and I come home and it still smells funky. I know I could just find a different place, but it’s close to a park and that’s been nice for Kal and I don’t want to make a fuss, so…” Henry sort of shrugged, the buttons on his plaid shirt straining with the movement of his broad shoulders, and gestured around the store as if to say “that’s why I’m here”.

“Well, you’ve definitely come to the right place. All of our home care is in the second room, grab a basket, I’m sure we can find you some scents you’ll like.” He walked over to the basket tower to grab one as a couple more customers walked in. Samantha nudged me towards the second room; I was going to have to handle Henry alone for now, it seemed. He followed me over to the Wallflower wall. “So, these are our Wallflowers. They’re sort of like the Glade Plug-ins, I don’t know if you’ve seen those, you plug this diffuser into any power outlet and screw the fragrance bulb in and it diffuses the scented oil into the room. They last for about a month or so. These’ll probably be the best option for you, well these and maybe a room spray or two to start with. The candles are good, but obviously the scent is gonna be strongest when they’re burning and it’s probably not a great idea to light a bunch of candles and then leave for the whole day.”

He chuckled. “No, I’d say you’re right about that. I definitely don’t want to burn the place to the ground. Are there any scents that you’d recommend?”

“Well, I mean, it obviously all depends on your personal preferences. I like sweet scents. I like my space to be smelling like a bakery or a candy shop at all times, so I tend to go for anything like that. We actually still have some of our holiday scents that we’re trying to get rid of and there’s this really great one in that line called Spiced Apple Toddy. It smells like apple pie. I love it. It’s only out during fall and winter so I stocked up. I need it all year long, honestly. I still have so many other scents at home, but like I’m probably never gonna get sick of it, for real, it smells so good. Or I might go every other month swapping between that and Black Cherry Merlot because that’s awesome too. And then there’s Champagne Toast, I mean, that one might be a bit too feminine for you, but I love it. It’s sweet and just a tiny bit citrusy. I can’t do any of the floral or like, outdoorsy scents, they set my allergies off. And honestly there’s some of these that I smell them and I’m like, who is putting this in their house? Like, what nutjob thinks this scent is good? How many people have senses of smell that are this screwed up?” At this point I was rambling, talking excitedly and with my hands, handing him testers to smell and trying to gauge his reactions to know what to hand him next. He didn’t have any bad reactions to anything I gave him until I handed him the tester for Fresh Balsam. His nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and he very carefully set the tester down on the counter as far from him as he could manage. He handled my word-vomit good-naturedly, with a small smile on his face, nodding and chuckling when he thought something I had said was funny. Our fingers brushed a few times as I handed him the testers and after the third time, I began to feel like it was deliberate on his part, but it couldn’t have been, could it? He couldn’t really be interested in me. He’s Henry Cavill. I’m just, well, I’m just me.

Me, with my two minimum wage jobs, still living with my parents, inching ever closer to 30 years old. Why would he want any of that? Why would he be interested in me physically either? I mean, he’s literally flawless and I’m short, overweight, I eat like shit, I don’t exercise, hell, I barely know how to put on make-up correctly. Yeah, I look good today, but that’s not par-for-the-course.

He put a few each of Cinnamon & Clove Buds, Black Cherry Merlot, Limoncello (for the bathrooms, he said), and Laundry Day (for the laundry room, obviously) in his basket along with enough of the plugs so he’d have one in each room. He also grabbed a Black Cherry Merlot and a Limoncello room spray off the shelf next to the Wallflower display before turning back to me. “So then, where do you keep this Spiced Apple Toddy that you like so much, or did you hide them so you could have them all to yourself?”

I chuckled nervously and ran my hand through my hair, sort of disbelieving that he was actually paying attention to what I had said. Boys never listen to me when I talk, I always have to repeat myself, but I guess that’s because I usually end up talking to the dumb ones. Henry’s not dumb. He really is just fucking perfect, isn’t he? Pretty and he listens? That shouldn’t be such a difficult combination to find, but for me it had been. “They’re on the table over here with the rest of our leftover Christmas stuff. Hopefully the tester is still there somewhere.” I put my hands in my apron pockets and I could feel the jolt of confidence I had had just minutes before leaving my body. His charm had worn me down, bringing me back to my normal, anxiety-ridden self. I caught the toe of my boot on the corner of one of the other tables as we walked towards the center of the room. I stumbled, but before I could fall his arm was already out to steady me, wrapping around my waist to keep me upright.

“Are you alright Y/N?” A look of genuine concern was on his face and I swear to God I swooned. Like, fuck, I just stubbed my stupid toe, it’s not that serious. I mean yeah, I stubbed my toe and then almost fell into a table covered with candles in glass holders, but like, I didn’t fall, you caught me, please stop looking at me like you care. You can’t give me that much hope. It isn’t fair. And goddamnit I love the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth. Like, fuck it’s never sounded so good. This isn’t fair, why is this happening?

“Yeah, Henry I’m fine, just a stubbed toe. Thank you for…you know.” I gestured down to his arm, which was still around my waist. The sound of me bumping into the table drew the attention of the rest of my co-workers, however, who were now coming out of their various positions to see what was going on and to make sure no one had broken anything. Samantha popped her head in from the front room and Kelynn and Mira came out from the cashwrap with Pilar and walked to the edge of the third room to peek in. All they saw was me, blushing profusely, with Henry Cavill’s beefy-ass arm still wrapped around my fucking waist. “Everything’s fine guys. I promise.”

“Holy shit, is that…”

“Mira!”

“But Kelynn that’s fucking Superman!”

“You can’t cuss in front of him Mira, he’s a customer!”

“Will you guys cut it out? You’re embarrassing us in front of the hunky British dude!”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about we all pretend like this isn’t happening right now? Pilar can go back to the cashwrap, you two can go back to whatever it was you were doing, and I’ll go back to what I was doing, namely making a damn sale!” I extricated myself from Henry’s grasp so I could shoo them back towards the cashwrap. They turned and walked away, bewildered looks on their faces. I turned back to Henry who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his curls, leaving them messier than they were before. An errant one fell over his forehead and I wanted to brush it out of the way, but he just left it.

I walked over to the table that I was originally heading for and found the Spiced Apple Toddy Wallflowers. There wasn’t that many left, but there was still a tester. I grabbed it and spun around to bring it to him, assuming he hadn’t followed me, but as I turned, I found myself going face first into his massive chest. I put my unoccupied hand up to steady myself and pushed on his chest to force him back. He was just too close. Why was he so close? He opened his mouth to say something but I beat him to it. “Here. This is what I have in my bedroom right now, this is Spiced Apple Toddy.” Oh god, why did I say it like that? The one I have in my bedroom. Jesus Christ. He quirked his eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side, smirking a little. Instead of taking the tester from me, he took my much smaller hand in his, guiding it up towards his face so the tester was close to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A serene smile spread across his face and I felt my face get hotter. He opened his eyes, looking down into mine. Fuck I could drown in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, I like that very much. You were right. I think that one’s my favourite.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #my first henry fic #fluff #unintentional bath and body works ad #be gentle

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reading-writing-revolution · 4 years

Text

Ron Howard

January 24 at 5:41 AM —

I'm a liberal, but that doesn't mean what a lot of you apparently think it does. Let's break it down, shall we? Because quite frankly, I'm getting a little tired of being told what I believe and what I stand for. Spoiler alert: not every liberal is the same, though the majority of liberals I know think along roughly these same lines:

1. I believe a country should take care of its weakest members. A country cannot call itself civilized when its children, disabled, sick, and elderly are neglected. PERIOD.

2. I believe healthcare is a right, not a privilege. Somehow that's interpreted as "I believe Obamacare is the end-all, be-all." This is not the case. I'm fully aware that the ACA has problems, that a national healthcare system would require everyone to chip in, and that it's impossible to create one that is devoid of flaws, but I have yet to hear an argument against it that makes "let people die because they can't afford healthcare" a better alternative. I believe healthcare should be far cheaper than it is, and that everyone should have access to it. And no, I'm not opposed to paying higher taxes in the name of making that happen.

3. I believe education should be affordable. It doesn't necessarily have to be free (though it works in other countries so I'm mystified as to why it can't work in the US), but at the end of the day, there is no excuse for students graduating college saddled with five- or six-figure debt.

4. I don't believe your money should be taken from you and given to people who don't want to work. I have literally never encountered anyone who believes this. Ever. I just have a massive moral problem with a society where a handful of people can possess the majority of the wealth while there are people literally starving to death, freezing to death, or dying because they can't afford to go to the doctor. Fair wages, lower housing costs, universal healthcare, affordable education, and the wealthy actually paying their share would go a long way toward alleviating this. Somehow believing that makes me a communist.

5. I don't throw around "I'm willing to pay higher taxes" lightly. If I'm suggesting something that involves paying more, well, it's because I'm fine with paying my share as long as it's actually going to something besides lining corporate pockets or bombing other countries while Americans die without healthcare.

6. I believe companies should be required to pay their employees a decent, livable wage. Somehow this is always interpreted as me wanting burger flippers to be able to afford a penthouse apartment and a Mercedes. What it actually means is that no one should have to work three full-time jobs just to keep their head above water. Restaurant servers should not have to rely on tips, multibillion-dollar companies should not have employees on food stamps, workers shouldn't have to work themselves into the ground just to barely make ends meet, and minimum wage should be enough for someone to work 40 hours and live.

7. I am not anti-Christian. I have no desire to stop Christians from being Christians, to close churches, to ban the Bible, to forbid prayer in school, etc. (BTW, prayer in school is NOT illegal; *compulsory* prayer in school is - and should be - illegal). All I ask is that Christians recognize *my* right to live according to *my* beliefs. When I get pissed off that a politician is trying to legislate Scripture into law, I'm not "offended by Christianity" -- I'm offended that you're trying to force me to live by your religion's rules. You know how you get really upset at the thought of Muslims imposing Sharia law on you? That's how I feel about Christians trying to impose biblical law on me. Be a Christian. Do your thing. Just don't force it on me or mine.

8. I don't believe LGBT people should have more rights than you. I just believe they should have the *same* rights as you.

9. I don't believe illegal immigrants should come to America and have the world at their feet, especially since THIS ISN'T WHAT THEY DO (spoiler: undocumented immigrants are ineligible for all those programs they're supposed to be abusing, and if they're "stealing" your job it's because your employer is hiring illegally). I believe there are far more humane ways to handle undocumented immigration than our current practices (i.e., detaining children, splitting up families, ending DACA, etc).

10. I don't believe the government should regulate everything, but since greed is such a driving force in our country, we NEED regulations to prevent cut corners, environmental destruction, tainted food/water, unsafe materials in consumable goods or medical equipment, etc. It's not that I want the government's hands in everything -- I just don't trust people trying to make money to ensure that their products/practices/etc. are actually SAFE. Is the government devoid of shadiness? Of course not. But with those regulations in place, consumers have recourse if they're harmed and companies are liable for medical bills, environmental cleanup, etc. Just kind of seems like common sense when the alternative to government regulation is letting companies bring their bottom line into the equation.

11. I believe our current administration is fascist. Not because I dislike them or because I can’t get over an election, but because I've spent too many years reading and learning about the Third Reich to miss the similarities. Not because any administration I dislike must be Nazis, but because things are actually mirroring authoritarian and fascist regimes of the past.

12. I believe the systemic racism and misogyny in our society is much worse than many people think, and desperately needs to be addressed. Which means those with privilege -- white, straight, male, economic, etc. -- need to start listening, even if you don't like what you're hearing, so we can start dismantling everything that's causing people to be marginalized.

13. I am not interested in coming after your blessed guns, nor is anyone serving in government. What I am interested in is the enforcement of present laws and enacting new, common sense gun regulations. Got another opinion? Put it on your page, not mine.

14. I believe in so-called political correctness. I prefer to think it’s social politeness. If I call you Chuck and you say you prefer to be called Charles I’ll call you Charles. It’s the polite thing to do. Not because everyone is a delicate snowflake, but because as Maya Angelou put it, when we know better, we do better. When someone tells you that a term or phrase is more accurate/less hurtful than the one you're using, you now know better. So why not do better? How does it hurt you to NOT hurt another person?

15. I believe in funding sustainable energy, including offering education to people currently working in coal or oil so they can change jobs. There are too many sustainable options available for us to continue with coal and oil. Sorry, billionaires. Maybe try investing in something else.

16. I believe that women should not be treated as a separate class of human. They should be paid the same as men who do the same work, should have the same rights as men and should be free from abuse. Why on earth shouldn’t they be?

I think that about covers it. Bottom line is that I'm a liberal because I think we should take care of each other. That doesn't mean you should work 80 hours a week so your lazy neighbor can get all your money. It just means I don't believe there is any scenario in which preventable suffering is an acceptable outcome as long as money is saved.

Copy & paste if you want.

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spencerreidshortstories · 4 years

Text

Daddy Issues?

Description: this is a continuation from the last part. She opens up a lot due to the fact that she's on pain medicine. The college graduation part of this actually happened to me and I just thought I'd add it in.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None really. She’s on medicine, but she is in the hospital, so . . . there is that. Talk of negligent parenting and trust issues because of it.

Also, for those interested I have a Stranger Things fan fiction in the works - Steve Harrington - and an American Horror Story fan fiction - Michael Langdon. They are not one-shots but multi-chapter connected things. Anyway, onto this one . . .

Spencer stayed with her during visiting hours and through the night. She was allowed one person to stay with her and she had chosen him. His friends had come by to see her, Garcia bringing a teddy bear and flowers, and then her friends had come by as well. None of them had stayed too long, mostly because she had started to become overwhelmed but also because she'd gotten a headache and started to feel nauseated from the head wound. It was normal for someone with a concussion to experience those things, so he wasn't that worried.

Spencer hated hospitals – germs, the weird lights, just everything about them was unsettling to him – but he'd found that he couldn't say no when she'd asked him to stay. Knowing she would need a ride home tomorrow he'd even offered to take a personal day.

"You shouldn't take a personal day just for that. There are probably other things you'd like to do."

"You're gonna be in a lot of pain tomorrow," he said. "I mean, you're not going to be able to use your arm really, and you're still going to have a headache – you might have that for a while. You need someone to take you home and I really don't mind taking a personal day and spending it with you."

"I . . . Okay."

Her cheeks took on a pink tint, which really showed up since her face was otherwise pale due to blood loss and shock – even though she claimed she was fine.

He hadn't really left her side since he'd gotten there even when she had drifted in and out of sleep between other people visiting. He'd gotten up to go get food and coffee and that was it.

"Spencer?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for everything. For coming when I called and staying because I asked you to. I'm – I'm really not used to that."

"What? Someone being a good friend?"

"No. A guy being nice to me without wanting something in return. I mean, even my dad doesn't really talk to me unless he needs something from me."

"I'm sorry. I, uh . . . never really knew my dad. He left when I was young and what I do remember isn't great. I think he wanted a more normal family."

"Oh. Well, that's on him. Not you."

Spencer still hadn't talked to her about his mother and all he'd gone through with that and he honestly didn't know when he should bring it up. He knew if he really wanted to be with her that he would have to be honest about it so that she wouldn't possibly be going into something blind, but now definitely wasn't the time to bring it up. He did know that.

"I think . . . I think the reason I like you so much is because you're, like, the exact opposite of my dad."

"Uh-oh. Latent daddy issues?" he teased.

She shook her head and laughed a little. "No. And don't make me laugh. It's not helping my head at all."

"Sorry, sorry." He smiled. "What did you mean then?"

"Well, just little things mostly, but you're already different in that the last time I was in the hospital my dad never even came to see me and he kind of got annoyed at me when I called him. I was still living with my grandmother at the time so he wasn't even that far away and he didn't come see me. Didn't ask how I was when I talked to him."

"I would never not come see you if you were in the hospital. And I'm never annoyed when you call me. I like hearing from you."

She went on as though he hadn't spoken, but he knew she'd heard him.

"He's always late. If he says he's going to be somewhere at a certain time, you can bet he's going to be at least an hour later than that. He has no time management skills at all. You've never kept me waiting – ever."

Spencer noticed that her voice was getting softer and he was sure she was going to talk herself to sleep. It was getting darker and the nurse had given her medicine to relax her, so it wouldn't be abnormal for her to fall asleep from it.

"You know, he even almost missed my college graduation. He knew the ceremony was at 11:00 and he waited until the morning of to go to the laundromat – the washer at his house was broken, and don't even get me started on how long it took him to get a new one. But anyway, it fits his pattern. He's late for everything – bills, insurance, even getting the tags on his car renewed, which meant I chauffeured him around a lot when I lived near him. He knew I would do it, so why bother?"

Now her voice was soft because she had tears in her eyes and was about to cry. Spencer realized the medicine must've made her thoughts and mouth a little looser. She'd never really talked about her dad before.

"I used to be afraid of him. He could get so angry, and I've never seen you angry. I mean, yeah, you've been upset, but you never shout or hit things or throw things."

Spencer's back stiffened as tension filled him. For one, he hoped she wasn't implying what he thought she was, and two . . . he hoped she didn't regret telling him this when the medicine wore off.

"He was angry a lot when I was a kid. But the worst was that you could do something one time and he'd be fine with it. The next time you do it, he would pitch a fit. I would walk on egg shells around him a lot of the time. I'm glad I didn't actually live with him. I mean, he never hurt me or anyone else, but he would still hit the wall or something, still scare us sometimes."

Spencer had no clue what to say to any of that and sometimes the best thing to do was just listen and not say a word, so that was what he did. He did, however, let himself process that she'd been through a form of mental abuse as a child – she probably didn't even consider it that. Victims of abuse sometimes didn't think of what they went through as abuse. Some even came to think of it as normal.

"He was really hard to get close to. I mean, you couldn't even have a conversation with the guy. He would stop talking to you if you didn't agree with what he said."

"I love talking with you," he said. "I wouldn't stop talking to you just because we don't agree on something."

Her not liking loud or sudden noises made sense now – not that sensory overload didn't make sense, but this could be another reason for it. She'd grown up around yelling and anger.

"And, to be honest, you're not someone I can imagine being mad at or not enough to shout at you. I don't get that type of angry. I don't want you to ever be afraid of me."

"I never have been," she said. "Despite you being a profiler, you're pretty open emotionally . . . or at least you have been with me.

"I have," he agreed. It was almost disconcerting to him. "Anything else I need to clarify?"

"I don't know. I – he never physically left my mom, but sometimes it was like he did. He would go years without a job and she'd have to make do on a minimum wage job – retail or something like that and sometimes she'd have to not pay a bill just so they would have food on the table. And he was there. That's the thing. He was physically there, he just wouldn't be working or providing for his family, for my mom and my brother. It used to make me so mad and I wasn't even living with them."

Her dad sounded like he had a classic case of the Peter Pan Syndrome and had never wanted to grow up. He imagined her dad had never had to answer for anything he'd done as a child and so didn't know how to take responsibility for anything.

"I don't mind taking care of you," he said softly, "if you'll let me."

She didn't respond vocally, but she did let a small smile grace her lips even as a few more tears fell down her cheeks.

"I think you should sleep," he said. "I think the medicine is making you say things you might not have."

"Probably. But I'm glad I'm saying it to you and not someone else."

She calmed herself down and closed her eyes, but she still didn't sleep. He knew because a few minutes later she was looking to him again.

"Can I hold you hand again?" Her voice was quiet and a little hoarse even. "I know you don't, you know, really do that, but you let me earlier."

He pressed his lips together to keep from grinning and offered up his hand.

"Apparently I don't mind with you."

"Hm." She slipped her hand over his and slid her fingers between his. "I will consider myself special then."

"Very special.

It didn't take long for her to go to sleep once she decided to stay quiet for more than a few minutes. He stayed there in the chair beside her that night. Not that he'd been planning on leaving, but after her confessing all of the things she had he would've stayed with her anyway. He would not have left her to feel vulnerable when she woke up the next morning.

In a way, he was glad she'd opened up to him. In a completely different way, he wasn't, because he now felt he really had to open up to her too – especially since he was feeling a certain type of way about her. There were parts of his past he was scared to share with her – things that had nothing to do with his mom at all and more to do with his job and things that had come about because of his job.

She would have to know about them before he let her know how he felt about her because it seemed she felt for him at least some of what he was feeling for her.

He would have to be honest with her.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x ofc

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

Clayton Keller: Part 1

Word count: 2408

Debbie. Fucking Debbie.

Jesus Christ, why did it have to be Debbie and not Chris? I would take Chris over Debbie every day, at least he doesn’t judge me when I get my rent money in a few days late. I’m a poor college student paying the rent by herself, give me a break.

“What’s up?” I ask, swinging the front door to my apartment open.

“Hi Y/N,” Debbie sends me a fake smile. “I’m just here to remind you that your rent is due in a week.”

“I have it written down, Debbie.”

“Oh,” she actually appears to be shocked. Is this bitch serious? Does she really think that little of me? Well, I haven’t given her much faith to have in me, though... “Well, just don’t forget to give it to me or Chris.”

“I know.”

She gives me another fake smile. “Have a great night, Y/N.”

“Yep, bye.” I close my door, rolling my eyes at the judgemental, middle-aged woman. “Fucking bitch,” I whisper under my breath, making my way to the living room to take a seat on the couch.

Okay, I do see why she’s concerned, though. I have been turning my rent money in late over the past couple of months but that’s just because of my lack of employment. I’m struggling to find a job that’s flexible enough that will work with my class schedule since I’m taking more credits next semester than I ever have before. This means that I have to use the little money I have saved up for rent. That money’s running out fast, though, so I have to find a job right now.

I scroll through the list on Indeed, sighing at all of the minimum wage jobs. None of those will be able to help me afford my apartment and I can’t move even if I wanted to. Every apartment in Glendale is expensive as hell and this apartment is close enough to my college that I’m able to walk to class instead of having to spend money on a car or a bus pass.

I apply for a couple of jobs anyway, figuring that I could always pick up two minimum wage jobs, despite how much I would hate it, and reluctantly check my email.

The government sent me an email an hour ago letting me know that my FAFSA has been submitted and I groan out loud, resting my head in my hands. How am I supposed to save money to pay back my student loans when I don’t even have the money to afford an apartment now?

I really have no clue what I’m going to do and all I want to do right now is drink away my troubles. I check my phone to see how long ago my friends told me they were on their way to come over to get ready and pick me up to go out to the club.

This is a long overdue night out.

I scroll through Instagram until there’s a knock at my apartment door and screams letting me know that it’s locked. I roll my eyes, standing up from my spot at the kitchen table and making my way towards the front door, opening it.

“I know it’s locked, dumbasses, Debbie was just here and I didn’t want her to knock the door open asking for rent money again,” I explain, letting my friends in.

“Just offer to eat her out instead of paying for rent next month,” Tyler recommends.

“Can you imagine? Debbie would pass out if you said that to her,” Besty giggles before walking down the hall towards my bedroom.

“Is that what you’re wearing to the club?” I eye Tyler’s T-shirt and sweatpants.

“Girl, did you really just ask me that?” He practically buries me with his eyes as we follow our other friend to my bedroom.

“What are you wearing tonight, Y/N?” Betsy asks, pulling random articles of clothing out of my closet.

“Why? Are you trying to figure out which of my clothes you want to wear?” I stand in front of the closet with her.

She sends me a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”

“I’m definitely wearing this top,” I pull out the gold crop top. “And then some ripped jeans and my metallic blue vans. You can choose anything except those things.”

“Thank you,” she sings, pulling out clothes to look at.

I get dressed, throw my hair in a messy high ponytail and rest a gold chain around my neck.

“Who’s paying for drinks tonight?” I ask, walking into my bathroom to start my makeup.

“I’ll pay if you do my eyeliner,” Tyler offers, lying on my bed and playing on his phone since he finished getting dressed a long time ago.

“Get over here, then,” I order, pulling out my liquid eyeliner. I do his makeup carefully, directing his gaze towards the mirror to examine it.

“It looks great, thanks, babe,” Tyler sends himself a kiss in the mirror and I laugh, beginning my own makeup.

Two hours later we’re ready to go and stumbling down the sidewalk, some alcohol already in our systems from pregaming.

We’re all buzzed but not drunk yet, wanting to wait until we at least get to the club so we would be able to walk there. The bouncer lets us in the club with one glance, noting our slutty clothing and deciding we’re good enough to be let into the high class club.

The pounding music shakes the tiled flooring as we shoot straight to the bar, Tyler ordering us several glasses of shots and a variety of mixed drinks.

“Put it on my tab,” he yells over the bass to the bartender as she sets the tray down in front of us. I can barely hear his words over the feeling of the alcohol burning my throat as I take the shot of Jack Daniels.

“Dibs,” I call, reaching for the Sex on the Beach. The liquid sloshes out of the drink a little as I pick it up, the alcohol already taking over my system.

Betsy lets out a whine in protest at the same time she reaches for the Old Fashioned so I ignore her, directing my attention to the dance floor.

It’s honestly busier than I expected, which shouldn’t be surprising since it’s a popular spot for people to go to on a Saturday night. The dance floor is practically overflowing with people but if anything, it makes me want to jump in and go on a treasure hunt for the cutest boy to hook up with. I need a break from thinking and an attractive man is the perfect solution for that.

My vision sways as I stand up from the stool, setting the empty glass on the bar’s countertop before dancing my way over to the crowd. I enter besides a group of cute girls and they drunkenly invite me to dance with them, so there’s just five of us girls stumbling around and yelling together.

When I’m exhausted, I let out a loud giggle and move towards the center of the dance floor, closing my eyes and throwing my hands up in the air in carelessness and freedom. My body moves along to the beat of the music, the liquor swimming through my veins keeping me from caring about how I appear.

Soft hands press to my bare waist, firm enough to keep me in place but loose enough to let me go if I want to leave the grip. I let them rest, leaning back to rest my back on his chest. With my eyes still closed and the lyrics to the song belting from the bottom of my lungs, I wrap my arms around the stranger’s neck, playing with the long hair at the bottom of his neck.

I feel the chuckle that he lets out vibrate through both his and my body and his hands travel towards my belly button, connecting together and pulling me closer towards him. I smile hazily, one hand traveling down to rest over both of his and turning my head towards his. I have to lean up to reach his face but I leave a sloppy kiss on his jaw, opening my eyes to see what he looks like.

I can’t see much through the strobe lights of the dance floor but from what I can tell, he’s cute. His hair is not short but not long, it’s more on the longer side of short hair, if that makes sense. But I like it, I like long hair. He has a few cuts on his face and I can’t help but wonder what from. By his calloused hands I can guess that maybe he has a dangerous job or hobby, like working in construction or doing boxing on the side.

I can see a hint of a chain under his shirt and I reach for it, tugging it out of his T-shirt. He watches as I examine the silver cross, stroking over it with my thumb.

Something moves out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head towards it, noticing Betsy waving a glass of a daiquiri, my favorite drink, at me. Tyler laughs from next to her as I immediately launch myself out of the stranger’s arms, pushing through the crowd clumsily as I make my way towards the bar.

“Just as I was starting to sober up,” I comment, climbing onto a barstool and taking the glass from Betsy.

“Who’s your friend?” Tyler asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I sip on the beverage while moving along to the song, watching as Tyler leaves to talk to some cute guy at the other end of the bar.

“Will you be okay if I leave you here by yourself?” Betsy finally asks after exchanging seductive glances with some guy on the dance floor.

“Betsy, please,” I stir my second daiquiri. “You deserve to get laid tonight, go.”

“If you need me, come get me,” she orders.

I roll my eyes, calling after her, “I won’t!”

I start to enter my thoughts as I notice someone sitting down on the stool next to me. I don’t look over at the person, focused on counting how many drinks I had tonight.

He coughs, then says, “Hey.”

I glance over at him and my eyes are instantly drawn to the cross dangling from his neck. It’s the guy I danced with earlier.

“Hey.”

“You were dancing with me earlier,” he states, jutting with his thumb towards the dance floor.

“I know,” I nod.

He flushes, nodding as well. “Oh.” He’s quiet. “So, uh, I’m Clayton.”

“Y/N,” I respond, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He shakes my hand, sending me a small smile. Now that we’re in somewhat proper lighting, I can see what he looks like more, and dang, he is cute. I can tell now that his hair is a nice shade of brown and his eyes are this magnificent green color. I could stare at them forever and never be able to tell how many different shades and colors there are in his eyes.

“You from around here?” He asks, motioning the bartender over.

I nod and watch as Clayton puts in his order, turning to me. “Do you want another drink?”

“No, I’m good,” I reject.

He raises his eyebrows but nods, thanking the bartender for the beer. I like to play hard to get when it comes to boys. It makes the sex better.

“Who’s that?” I ask, nodding towards a blonde boy at the end of the bar.

Clayton turns to look, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “That’s my teammate. Why?”

“He keeps looking at us,” I take the final sip of my daiquiri. “Teammate?”

“Yeah I play for the Arizona Coyotes.”

“Oh, hockey.”

“Have you ever been to a game?” He questions.

“Yeah, I went on a date once and then you guys lost and my date got pissed so he ditched me in the middle of the arena,” I explain.

“Oh that sucks. I mean, I wouldn’t be with you at the game obviously but I’d love to take you out on a date after a game, if you would like,” he asks me out with a smile.

“No thanks,” I pass, watching as Tyler and the guy he was flirting with stand up from their stools. They’re probably going back to Tyler’s place to hook up now.

“What? Did you say no thanks?”

“Yeah I’ll pass on the offer, no offense. I’m just not looking for anything serious right now.”

A bunch of cash is thrown on the bartop in front of me and Tyler looms over me. “Money for the bar, and some extra for your rent next month. It’s not a lot but it’ll help until you get stable a bit, okay? And don’t you dare give it back, otherwise you’re paying for drinks next time when I plan to get blackout wasted. Oh, and don’t come over to my apartment for the rest of the weekend.” He winks, grabbing his hookup’s hand and leading him out the door.

I roll my eyes at Tyler, calling the bartender over to close his tab. Clayton watches as I pay the bill and shove the rest of the money into my pocket.

“You’re having trouble paying your rent, huh?” Clayton asks with a sigh, picking up his beer and swirling it around.

I give him a look. “Why do you care?”

“And you don’t want to be in a serious relationship but you want to have some fun,” he continues, “Looks like what you’re looking for is a sugar daddy.”

I scoff. “I don’t want to hop on some desperate sixty year old’s dick, Clayton.”

“Who said they had to be sixty? They could be, I don’t know, twenty one with seven million dollars to spend a year,” he responds.

“Seven million?” I almost choke.

“And maybe, that guy doesn’t know what to spend that money on but he sees a beautiful girl sitting in front of him and well,” he shrugs, maintaining eye contact while he takes a sip of his beer.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“Dead.”

“If you’re really offering to be my sugar daddy-””I am.”

“Be prepared. I’m high maintenance.”

#Clayton keller imagine #NHL imagines #Clayton keller x reader #arizona coyotes imagine #NHL story

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innittowinit · 3 years

Text

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (Chapter 19)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

Eret's been acting...strange Techno senses somethings definitely off

Chapter word count: 1726

AO3

Friendships were a complex thing. Techno had known that as long as he could remember. People come and people go, it was nothing, especially not to him or Wilbur. Inherently, they knew all they had was each other, maybe their other brothers would also always be with them but what they had together was a special bond. Neither Phil nor Tommy would ever be able to understand them the way they understood each other and that was fine, they had lived every day side by side, they shared almost all their core memories and so their rationality was incredibly similar because of it, meaning they could very easily understand each other.

Never had they asked for a friend that would feel the same way as the friendship they had with each other, and yet they always seemed to be asking for too much. That’s the part that confused Techno.

Never had they needed to be understood. Never had they needed something complex. All they needed was someone to accept them so why did it feel like everyone always ended up leaving? Were they the problem? It always felt like they were trying so hard so why did it feel like they were pushing people away?

You see, recently Eret had been acting….off.

He had been stumbling over words, fidgeting, leaving quickly with the excuse of ‘being late for something’, and taking hours to reply to any kind of message. Each of these things would be fine on their own but with them all together, they felt a little strange.

It didn’t seem like Wilbur had noticed the recent shift in behaviour yet so Techno didn’t dare bring it up, it wasn’t uncommon that he was overly cautious and he didn’t want to risk upsetting his brother over something that might not even be a big deal, especially when he had just started to get over the incident with the ticket booth.

“So....He’s been busy a lot lately” Wilbur sighed, draping himself across the couch and clutching his phone in one hand. Niki had insisted they add some stickers onto it since letting them live off a ‘boring flip phone’ (as she had called it) was apparently not okay.

“Do you think he’s okay? Maybe something’s going on at home..”

Oh. Techno was positive everything was okay at home. Of course there was a possibility that he was just being protective of Wilbur because he didn’t want anyone hurting his brother but seriously! In his opinion, if you had enough money to eat fucking burger king as a school lunch you were doing fine financially, and really, that’s all that mattered right? Money had always been the reason why their parents were never around.

It was probably just his jealousy talking but he had always had a bit of an underlying anger for people with a big disposable income, how was it fair that their parents had to work so much at minimum wage jobs that they could hardly see them just to keep them warm and fed and yet other families could have their parents around by the time they were home from school /and/ have extra money for treats.

“Wil, don’t worry about him.” Techno sighed, trying to choose his words carefully. He knew Wilbur was always more sensitive to rejection than him.

“He’s more..social than we are, he probably just has other friends that he doesn’t want to ignore or something”

“Maybe.. I wish he’d tell us though, I don’t like being left on read”

With a sigh and a gentle prod for him to sit up a bit more, Techno wrapped an arm around Wilbur, feeling how he melted into the contact straight away. Of course it hurt Techno too to be ignored by the one person they thought actually could be a good friend but he needed to put on a brave face for Wilbur. Of course it felt like a stab in the gut to have trusted someone so much to be able to start talking to them and then they just disappear but Wilbur needed him right now, it was obvious to anyone that he was the one with the bigger connection issues.

“Wil, trusting people is a part of being friends. We can talk to him tomorrow alright? And we can explain that it would make you feel better if he said his plans before disappearing”

-----

It was Tuesday night and other than a few memes she had screenshotted off of instagram and sent them, they hadn’t really heard much at all from Eret. She hadn’t hung around them long enough at school for either of them to really bring it up with her and honestly, Techno was getting incredibly worried about what was going on. He’d never had a real friend like this before, of course Skeppy always made him laugh but he was family so he didn’t count, if he messed up with family he knew as long as they weren’t adults they’d still love him afterwards, friends worked differently though. He had his Hypixel friends too but they didn’t count either since they were online and he could type to them on days when he was struggling more. By now he’d known them so long they were basically family, they’d all taken hours out of their own time to research Techno’s problems to try and be as accommodating as possible- all in all he really couldn't compare them with Eret.

It was tricky and he knew communication was one of the more important parts, which was ironically what he struggled with the most. Maybe on one of his worse-off days, where he normally would have had Wilbur doing most of the talking for him, Eret had assumed he was angry with her or giving her the silent treatment, maybe she had taken offence to the fact that Wilbur and Techno were very obviously closer than she was with each one of them. The thought that somehow they might have made her feel left out made him feel a little sick, had they not explained well enough what had led to this point? Maybe it was selfish for them to relish in the fact that she rarely bugged them for explanations.

All in all, Techno was sure they had done something for the sudden shift in attitude and, not wanting to make Wilbur feel worse than he already did, he wasn’t sure who could help him.

Maybe he could wait up until his parents got home? People on TV were always getting advice from them but then again.. His family wasn’t really like those on tv, if he was being honest he was half sure he’d be yelled at for being awake before he could have a chance to ask for help.

He could also ask Phil, but then again Phil was already beyond stressed trying to make sure they were all okay, he really didn’t want to bother him. Niki was closer to Wilbur than she was with him and he was sure his hypixel friends were all still at school because of the time zone difference.

The only other person he could really think of talking to about this was Skeppy, and so, hopping out of bed, trying his hardest not to make too much noise and wake up Wilbur, he made his way to the PC.

11:36PM

From what he knew, Skeppy usually stayed up late and slept so late he often missed his bus anyway so he probably was still up.

Clicking onto discord, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the green dot next to his cousin's icon, immediately messaging him.

11:36 OrphanDestroyer: Hey nerd

11:36 OrphanDestroyer: U awake?

It took a few minutes for him to answer, Techno was just about ready to give up and accept he had just chosen the one night he may have gone to bed on time to try and message him.

11:42 japanesesymbolforbeginner: 1 sec ina call wiv bbh

Writing ‘bbh’ off as one of Skeppy’s friends he had forgotten to tell them about, Techno waited patiently for Skeppy to say he was free.

11:46 japanesesymbolforbeginner: ok im done, what you need

11:46 OrphanDestroyer: SO

11:46 OrphanDestroyer: Do you remember Eret?

11:48 OrphanDestroyer: Okay well basically for like the past few days he’s been ignoring me and Wilbs and I’m really really worried we offended him or something like maybe we hurt him or he’s mad or maybe he decided he's too good to be friends with us which tbh I don't blame him for because we kinda are losers and maybe people won't be friends with him because he's friends with us or something? Idk idk I just really wish he’d tell us something because like Wil is freaking out and idk what to tell him, he really struggles with this kinda stuff and I wanna help but idk how.

11:48 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Ok...fuck

11:48 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Has he replied to any messages or anything? Maybe he’s busy?

11:48 OrphanDestroyer: Not really

11:49 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Okay okay so here’s what I think you should do

11:49 japanesesymbolforbeginner: If he’s ignoring you you're gonna need to confront him next time you see him and don’t just agree when he makes an excuse to leave, like say you NEED to talk

11:50 japanesesymbolforbeginner: If u think he’s offended bc sometimes you don't speak a lot maybe just message him some resources or whatever on the type of mutism you deal with, even if he doesn’t reply he’ll probably still open it.

11:50 japanesesymbolforbeginner: like he might just be in the position where he’s nervous he’ll offend you if he asks something about it? Like maybe he doesn't understand fully and he just needs one of you to open the discussion

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: okay you're probably right

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: There’s a link I have to one I normally email teachers whenever we have a new one so i'll probably send him that

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: Tomorrow though, my dads gonna be home soon and he’ll kill me if im still awake

11:51 japanesesymbolforbeginner: aight, night Techno, good luck and btw you're all always welcome to come over if things get tense over there with ur parents

#sbi #sleepyboisinc #dream team #sleep bois inc #fanfiction #fanfic #mcyt #technoblade #wilbur #wilbur soot #dream smp #au

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years

Text

Remoras Full Chapter XXIX: Mother of the Forest

When I received the call, an open refrigerator door hummed as its light leaked through to the dim space that was my apartment. Its light chill came as a breeze while I placed a bag of grapes within. Automatic, robotic, subconscious movements: standing in place, pivoting from one item to the next. I once heard that every seven years, the human body becomes anew, the old self having died out. There was a faint memory of a self of mine, a few deaths ago, long before the idea of having children ever came to pass, who stood and bagged groceries for minimum wage, and wondering how she would balance work and getting through high school.

In that same moment, I repeated that past life, in a more private setting. Just an hour prior, I had been the customer in line at the checkout counter. The woman behind me who I assumed to be one life older than I, arguing with the cashier over an expired coupon. Her spittle flew over the counter, and the scrawny and zoned out worker covered his face with the back of his arm as a means to protect himself.

I’m better than that. I’m not that kind of person, I often told myself, although if I had any sense of honesty, I often was. Something about the desire to be right, even when you know you don’t have a case, held such a sweet and sour taste; some of the grapes in the fridge had already spoiled from my last grocery visit.

My hand reached for the bottle of cranberry juice, but it soon became out of reach as my phone vibrated right beside it. There was a disconnect – a momentary hesitation – where I stood in place.

Just put that juice away, then answer it, my thoughts buzzed and scraped across my ears. Who was I to deny them? I had no expectations that the call would amount to anything of substance. If I had to guess, it might have been my boss, ready to beg and guilt trip me into working on one of my days off. That was a foolish decision, as I didn’t even notice the name on display on the screen. If I had, I would have picked up right away.

So it buzzed. Twice. On the third buzz, the refrigerator door swung closed and I picked up the phone. That was when I saw the name on the phone and a magnetic pull from below sent all the blood in me to sink down to the tip of my soles. When I tried to speak, I thought I would only manage a gasping breath. But instead, it was a normal, if gasping, voice:

“Demetria? Is that you?”

Not since I last heard from her, several months back, did I ever think I would hear from her again. No, maybe that was unrealistic. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I would hear from her at all: a simple hi every now and then sent through text, happy mother’s day or happy birthday messages. Those were the least (or most) I could hope for. But what it was instead was a belief that she had gone down the same path of the rest of my children and was too busy with her own life to think much of me.

So when she told me the truth, that she had dropped out of college, moved to the arctic over some crush, and worked as a waitress in a restaurant, I was elated. Any shock or sense of betrayal I may have felt didn’t register because there she was, alive, and wanting to come home. One of my children actually wanted to see me! It was enough to make me want to tap my shoes together and do a little jig!

After our conversation, however, I had no choice but to be aware of the environment I was in: empty, so empty. Every little space was covered by every day objects or some assortment of clutter. Paper towel rolls, post-it notes, bowls of fake fruit, tea and coffee cups, a box of makeup from that time I was suckered into buying from a friend’s multilevel-marketing gig. That was just a small sample of things which took up space on the kitchen counters. That didn’t even cover the hallways or the living room.

It was funny, really: when my kids lived with me, I’d get onto them about cleaning the house and made sure they did so. But when it came to me, alone and (in my own mind) free, I pretty much said, “fuck it, this is my space” and let the clutter do its thing.

Well, it sure did its thing, didn’t it? Hopefully Demetria wouldn’t mind.

When it came time to meet her, I felt the pervasive feeling that she wasn’t someone I recognized. It wasn’t the green hair, although that I didn’t expect. Nor was it her coming out, which although the notion never crossed my mind, didn’t really come as a surprise, either. Her loss of interest in her studies? Unfortunate, but not unheard of, especially when one attends university. Her new interest in knives? Concerning, but I could live with it.

No, it must have been something else. Even when she tried to revert to her old self, who I knew her as, I could tell there was something different. What it was, I just couldn’t place, but a thought crept in which brought shivers across my spine:

Maybe she’s not different and maybe I just never knew her very well to begin with.

That thought didn’t know what she was talking about. As far back as I could remember, Demetria was someone withdrawn and preferred her alone time. She valued hers and others’ hygiene and was quick to judge others, but also seemed to have a good heart deep down (at least, I’d like to think so). I always tried to give her her space, as I knew I would have wanted the same if I were her.

But there were little things which made me wonder if I was perhaps living with a different Demetria than the one I raised. One such example was when I sat at the sofa, watching one of my soap operas, Young and the Breastless, when I took a quick glance beside me to see none other than Demetria, pacing about and reading a book. Well...I assumed she was reading, but the book was upside down. She shook her head while she paced, flipping from page to page.

“Nope. I just can’t get into this,” she muttered, and it sounded less disappointed and more like she hadn’t yet given up hope that she would. I leaned forward and saw the title of the book: ‘Banana Fish.’

“What’cha up to?” I asked, and the show no longer took up my attention, instead becoming white noise.

“I’m trying to get back into marine biology, so I figured I’d read a new fish textbook, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get into it,” she explained and peered up from her book.

“Are you sure it’s about fish? I see a couple of guys on the cover,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m assuming it’s one of those edutainment-type deals. Y’know, like Pajama Sam. Anyway, they haven’t actually talked about fish yet, but maybe it’s a slowburn textbook.”

Call it mother’s intuition, but something told me that book had nothing to do with actual fish. Props to her for trying to get back into her old interest, but she ought not to force herself.

“You know, you don’t have to get back into marine biology,” I suggested, “maybe pick up a new interest. What about knives?” That was such a weak suggestion, but it was something.

Even with her glasses on, she squinted, although it seemed less like a vision thing and more for effect, as if to say, “are you crazy, mom?!” It was weird to admit, too, but I already missed her green hair and as much as she tried to appear and act like her old self, it only seemed to highlight how much she had changed.

“What am I gonna do? Knive-ology? I don’t think that’s a thing,” she snapped her fingers for added effect.

Her old self would have just said something like, “I don’t want to make a career of that.”

I knew she had returned home due to having such a rough time with someone, but if anything, she had been more expressive. At least, around the house. I still couldn’t get her to go outside. Through every cycle of one’s life, it seemed at the core, some things remained.

Another day, I was watching a different soap opera on my day at work, this show called ‘The Good Doctor’ (yeah, generic name, I know).

“Good doctor! Your patient is having heart complications!” The assistant rushed to the good doctor in a panic. The good doctor sat at his desk with a suede suit and a polka dot tie and looked up, a bushy eyebrow raised.

“What’s the complications?” He asked, before pushing himself out from his seat.

“It’s complicated! Hurry!” The assistant urged the good doctor, who then rushed into the patient’s room. In the room, the patient leaned up from his bed, a shriveled up old man.

“Are you a good doctor?” He asked, a gravelly voice.

“I am the good doctor,” the good doctor replied, rather humbly, too.

“My heart keeps beating,” the patient moaned. “I don’t know why.”

“That’s what hearts do,” the good doctor answered, and a smile spread across the patient’s face.

“Wow, thanks doc. I’m cured!”

My viewing experience was interrupted by a plop as I turned to my right to see Demetria’s face looking back at me while she hung off from the top of the couch upside down.

“What’cha watchin’?” She asked in a tone that indicated that she was bored and didn’t really care.

“The Good Doctor,” I told her as I tried to keep my attention fixed on the show.

“Gee, I sure hope so,” she snickered. “If I was at the hospital, I know I’d want to be seen by the good doctor, not the bad one.”

I nudged her.

“Since when are you such a smart-ass?” I asked.

“You missed a lot of character arcs,” she continued the snark. “I went through several developments and regressions, and now I’m here.”

“I can see that,” I teased right back. Yes, two of us could be sarcastic.

“No, but for real, I’ve always been like this,” her voice turned quiet, contemplative. “I’ve just usually kept it in my head.”

That. That never occurred to me.

“Well, it’s fun,” I remarked. “I’m really glad to have you around.”

Her (glasses-less) eyes widened, then turned to a near-squint.

“You are?” She sounded quite puzzled by such a statement. As if it weren’t obvious to her.

“Of course! You’re my kid!”

“What about your other kids?” She pointed out.

“I love them, too, but they never come visit me. Well, Hestia does sometimes, but that’s still rare. It gets lonely here, you know.”

“What assholes,” she scoffed. I nudged her again.

“Those are your siblings you’re talking about!” I scolded, something I didn’t think I had to do. Oh well, it was a playful scold. “They’re good people, they’re just busy much of the time. Hestia’s an architect and works with various non-profit groups on the side. Hermes has his job as a fitness instructor. Then there’s Log...he’s busy being Log.”

“Sheesh, what’s with all these Greek myth names, anyway?”

I drummed up a storm of laughter, something which wasn’t really funny, but sometimes I just laughed to reminisce.

“Funny story about that…” I caught my breath. “Back when I was your age, I won a contest to go study abroad in Greece.”

“Did it come with a time machine?” She butted in.

“Are you gonna keep snarking or you gonna let me tell you?” I shot back. In response, she slunk down the couch, then sat up in a flurry of movements.

“Fire away, cap’n!” She gave me some goofy salute.

“So while I was at some museums, I met this nice Turkish guy and we hit things off pretty well. We went to a nice cafe and I got to unload my love of myth to him. That’s when he laughed and told me he was half-Greek himself, and he was visiting some family. After I went back to the states, we kept in touch as penpals and sent letters to each other back and forth. You probably don’t need me to tell you the rest.” I stopped myself. If I were to continue, it would have been a much longer story than it needed to be.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’s that got to do with giving us weird names?”

“Well, you know how there’s that tradition in our family to name ourselves after trees. My mom named me Sequoia, and she was Cypress. So when I had my first kid, all the relatives wanted to know what tree-related name I would give them. I gave it some thought and then decided that I wanted to do something different, so chose the name of a goddess I loved, Hestia.”

“Ugh, Hestia,” Demetria groaned, “it’s always ‘Hestia is bestia’ and ‘is there nothing Hestia can’t do?’ It’s grating.”

While I admit the praises seemed rather excessive, I was proud of her, just as much as I was proud of all my children in some way or another.

“Next came Hermes, and at that point, the whole family was up in arms, begging and pleading for just one tree name. So I compromised and said that if I had a third kid, I’d name them something tree-related. That seemed to get them off my back.”

“Thus, lo and behold, Log was born,” Demetria raised her head up and put her hand to her chest, almost singing out the words. Talk about dramatic.

“But then, you were born, just a few years after Log. I really didn’t expect to have another kid, and I figured to balance things out, I’d name you Sycamore. But then I decided: fuck it. You’re Demetria. And the rest was history.”

Yes. I was sure she heard the explanation before, but I suppose it bore repeating. It was just a shame that she never got to meet her father.

“What was he like?” She once asked me.

“He was a kind man. Patient, loved to listen to others. Never had a mean bone in his body. You would have liked him, I’m sure.”

“Would I have?”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s hard to say.”

Yes. Just a few months before Demetria was to come into this world, Beet Root (he took my last name) lost his life in a car accident. It was hard, to say the least. More than hard. But what else could I do? I couldn’t just stop raising my kids. So I continued on, through the grief and confusion. So it may have gone that she was born with a little bit of grief and confusion as well.

At least with the way things were, there was more time we could spend together. More things I could learn about her. There were still things I would have liked to see from her, though: making friends, finding a job, getting outside more. All things she didn’t seem to want anything to do with. I mean, she came out to me, didn’t that mean she wanted a girlfriend? It wouldn’t happen if she didn’t try.

I know, I’ll help her out, I thought in the middle of my shift. While my main job was working front desk at the Himbo Hotel, I’d sometimes work as a part-time taxi driver on the side. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was fun to meet different people, sometimes.

One person that I picked up was a tall and twig-like girl with blue and pink pastel colored denim clothing (jacket and pants) and hot pink hair.

“Are you Macie?” I asked as I rolled down my window.

“I might be,” she replied, then got in through the backdoor.

Once she was in, I let curiosity get the better of me.

“So...I’ve got a daughter,” I mentioned.

“Yeah? You want me to babysit her?” She asked offhand.

“No, no, I was just wondering if you’d like to meet her.”

“Why?”

“Well...she’s gay…” As soon as those words left my mouth, I saw her put the back of her hand over her mouth in the rearview mirror and laugh.

“Okay then, what’s she like?”

“Hmm...well...she likes...knives?” I just realized how hard it was to describe her to someone else.

“No thanks, I’m not into the hardcore type.”

“She’s not hardcore! It’s just an aesthetic thing...I think. She also likes to work out, and she’s got a bachelor’s degree in zoology.”

There. I think I listed enough positive traits.

Macie shrugged.

“All right, I’ll bite. I’ll write down my number. But if it turns out to be one of those weird catfishy things, I’m blocking both of you and leaving a one star review.”

I gulped, but couldn’t help but whisper a triumphant “yes!”

After I dropped her off at her destination, I returned home and raced to Demetria’s room to deliver the good news. I knocked on her door and after a few successive pounds, she opened up. She stood with a small towel over her forehead, a black tank top on, and working up a sweat.

“Hey! Guess what? I got a girl’s number!” I couldn’t wait for a greeting, I just had to tell her.

“Aw, you didn’t even give me time to guess…” She turned her head and looked down, disappointed.

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Oh, yeah, grats.”

“No, not for me! For you!”

“Oh. Not interested,” she turned away.

“Come on, you might like her! At the least, you might make a friend!” I urged her. She should’ve at least tried.

“I don’t wanna make any friends, especially not with someone I know nothing about.”

“It’s not good to shut yourself off in your room!” I pleaded.

“You never had a problem with it before.”

...She had a point. I shouldn’t have minded so much, but I just really wanted to help her out and didn’t know how.

“You’re right. I hope you’ve had a good day,” I softened my voice, then closed her door.

Other than watch TV and eat together, we didn’t really interact much. That was fine, we didn’t have to, but she should’ve at least interacted with someone. What I saw in her wasn’t someone who was in her room all the time, indulging in her study. Instead, I got the notion that she was deliberately avoiding going outside. As if there was something out there that she was afraid of. If that was the case, I didn’t know what.

There was one girl I managed to get her to speak to, though. Granted, it was her sister, but it was something. Especially since I knew how much she didn’t like to spend time around her siblings.

I had a video call set up with Hestia on my laptop.

“Hey mom, how’s things been?” She asked, her bright smile ever-present on her face. She was seated at the dining room in her own apartment, a much more effervescent air surrounded her while her tucked back teal hair took up a large part of the top of the screen.

“I’m good, things have been great, actually. Demetria’s living with me now,” I told her.

“Oh? I remember how freaked out you were a while back ago. It’s good to know she’s okay.”

“I know, right? Apparently she went to the arctic for a while because of a crush.”

Hestia laughed, a sort of high-pitched “ohoho” laugh.

“She always did do her own thing, didn’t she? I regret not being closer with her, but what’s done is done and there’s no room for regrets.”

“You could come visit,” I suggested. And it wasn’t just that I was lonely. “Maybe you two could hang out or something.”

Hestia put her index finger on her chin and hummed.

“I would like to, but you know how busy I can be. I won’t rule it out, though, ‘kay?”

I sighed. That was the best I could hope for, wasn’t it?

“By the way, it turns out she’s gay.”

Again, hum.

“I’m not surprised at all,” she replied, that same kind voice as ever. “Did you hear about Hermes’ new boyfriend?”

I shook my head.

“No, what’s he like?”

“No idea! But he says he has one, and he seems happy, so that’s all that matters, right?”

“Heh, guess so. Say, how’s things with your girlfriend?”

“Good, good. Aphrodite’s been helping me volunteer at an animal rescue on my days off.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe you and Demetria can bond over your love of women,” I suggested. That was met with another hum.

“That’s a decent enough idea, but everyone experiences love differently, so we may be too different to relate to one another.”

Just because it wouldn’t be exactly the same, that didn’t mean the two couldn’t relate, could it? That just didn’t make sense to me. Yet when I could have voiced as much, I didn’t.

“Would you like to talk to her right now? I could go get her,” I instead said.

“Of course, I’d love to say hello to my dear sister!”

“Demetria!” I called for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she made sluggish motions toward the dining room. After rubbing her eyes, she looked my way.

“What?” She groaned.

“Wanna say hi to Hestia?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, then looked at the laptop screen. “’Sup?”

“Why hello, Demetria! You’re looking as cute as ever!” Hestia oozed joy from the swaying of her head.

“Uh, thanks. You’re looking tryhard as ever, yourself,” she replied in a flat, deadpan tone. I nudged her.

“Be nice,” I whispered. She looked up at me in response, a wide-eyed and pathetic expression on her face.

“No puppy dog eyes, either.”

“How have you been, Demetria?” Hestia seemed to wave off the snarky remark, “do you still shut yourself off in your room?”

My face felt like it was about to turn red, but Demetria seemed unfazed.

“I shut myself off in your mom,” she shot right back. As if she was some grade-schooler.

“Ew. We have the same mom.”

Yes. That same mom was listening to the two of them as they spoke.

“Uh...well…” Demetria stammered as she struggled to save face.

I snickered. Now both girls looked at me and in unison asked, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s nice to see you two get along so well,” I remarked.

The two laughed as well at that notion.

“Yes, I agree,” Hestia proclaimed, “it was nice to hear from you, my dear sister. You look well.”

“Yeah, later, spoiled princess,” Demetria shrugged, then walked away. Then, the unexpected happened:

“Butthead!” Hestia yelled back, and stuck her tongue out. Upon realizing what she had done, she put both hands over her mouth. I shook my head.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that was rather unbecoming of me. Do forgive me,” she spoke all fancy, then gave me puppy dog eyes as well.

“You’re ten years older than her! You’re supposed to set a good example!” I cried out. To that, she raised and index finger and with her eyes closed, gave a triumphant smile.

“Actually, we’re both adults, so if anything, she should know better than to have such an attitude!” She declared.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom! Do give Demetria my sincerest of apologies!”

The video call ended. As much as that (began and) ended in bickering, it was still progress. They spoke to each other. Baby steps. Maybe after that, she would branch out a little more and –

I could only wish.

About a week after that conversation, I got off work and noticed a text on my phone. I opened up the message and I felt my heart caught in a bear trap:

Demetria: Hey, try not to worry too much when you get home, but I won’t be there. I went outside and got a smoothie like you wanted me to. It was good, but it got me thinking how I the whole time I’ve been with you, I’ve felt stuck. Not stuck because of you, but stuck because I haven’t found any interest that I’ve felt passionate about. I don’t know what I want to do and it frightens me. So I’ve decided to go off and try to figure things out. I’ll see if I can stay with Juniper for a little while, maybe a change in environment will help. Love you, and goodbye for now.

I rushed home. I tried texting her back, but it wouldn’t send. I tried calling, only to receive dead air.

Her phone must be off. But why? Is she in danger?

Frantic, unsure of what else to do, I called Juniper.

“Hey, is Demetria with you?” I asked, as Juniper answered right away.

“No? Not unless she’s hiding somewhere. Why?” She seemed genuinely puzzled by my question, meanwhile I was still hyperventilating.

“She left me a message. Said she’d be with you.”

“Huh. I haven’t heard anything like that. But maybe she’s on her way? I dunno.”

“Okay. Just. Let me know if you see her, okay?”

“Sure thing! Hope she’s doing all right!”

“Me too.”

I hung up. Next was Hestia, but not because I thought she’d know Demetria’s whereabouts, but just because I needed someone to vent to. The phone kept ringing, but there was no answer. Then it timed out.

Of course. Because she’s always doing something.

However, just a minute later, Hestia called back.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She greeted.

“Demetria. She...she…” I had trouble getting it all out.

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. She ran off.”

“Oh my…”

“I don’t know what to do. She left a message saying she’d see if she could stay with Juniper.”

“So maybe she’s with Juniper.”

“I called her and she said Demetria’s not there. I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I can tell. When did you last see her?”

“This morning. Right before work.”

“That’s probably why. I’d say it takes more than an afternoon to reach Juniper’s place.”

Right. That thought never occurred to me. But then, where would she stay on her way there? Motels? What if something bad happened there?

“I’m just...I really thought she would stay. I gave her her space. I let her do whatever. But she didn’t want to make friends and she didn’t want to leave the house and –”

“...Sounds like she left the house, though,” Hestia pointed out.

“You’re right. I should be happy. She’ll be fine. She was fine before.”

“Mom.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Chill. She’s an adult. Just let her do her thing. She’s always been an independent person, so let her be. If she wants to come back, just tell her ‘no, I’ve made my choice.’”

I balked.

“I couldn’t do that!”

“I’m not saying to be mean. Look, I know this family’s known for being overly nice, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a pushover. It’s bad enough you’re a worrywart.”

“I just don’t want to be too tough. I remember how Juniper’s mom was and I told myself I wouldn’t be like her.”

“You’re not…” Hestia muttered, then continued, “you’re afraid of letting her go, aren’t you?”

That struck me. Not because of how harsh it was. No, her tone of voice was sympathetic, if anything.

“I just wanted to spend more time with her,” I began to tear up, “She didn’t stay for very long and I thought I could have some company.”

“I understand. It probably gets lonely.”

“It does…”

“It’s not too late for you, either. You can try to make friends, you can go out and have fun. You should take care of yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” my voice turned weepy, but I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I gotta go, mom. I’m busy petting goats at a petting zoo. Did you know that statistically, one in five goats don’t get pet?”

“One of your volunteer works?” I asked.

“You know it.”

The call ended after that. So once again I was left in an empty house, full of clutter. Days went by, the same routine, and I waited for some update, some word as to where she was. So far, nothing. At a certain point, I considered adopting a ferret. I hadn’t quite decided yet, but it might help.

#remoras full #wriitng #stories #this chapter is on the short side #I admit this chapter is kind of rough in terms of quality #but thats okay #im allowed a not so good chapter every now and then

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