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jwirecs · 11 months

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RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF OCTOBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of october! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Photograph || @i-am-baechu💕💔✅

↳ Jimin hated Y/N. Y/N didn’t know why. It all changed with a photograph.

Beside You || @nochukoo97🔞💕✅

↳ you miss your boyfriend after not seeing him for a long time, so who could blame you if you couldn’t resist him once you saw him?

Claimed || @bethschamberoftales🔞💕💔✅

↳ He promised that he is going to fuck you hard so you won't be able to walk after that. You took that lightly but the thing is, Jungkook never breaks his promises.

Finish Line || @bonny-kookoo🔞💕🔄

↳ He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Loverboy || @kookslastbutton🔞💕💔✅

↳ After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

Never Goodbye || @smutlvrrr🔞💕✅💯💯💯

↳ It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again…

Support System || @bangtanfanfiction🔞💕✅

↳ You’re the support system Hoseok needs in times of uncertainty without his members. And you make sure he knows it.

Masked Miracles || @remedyx🔞💕💔🔄

↳ It wasn't supposed to happen this way. A quick in and out. Infiltrate and bring down a hybrid trafficking ring. Saving lives while we're at it. But things hardly ever go to plan. And being locked in with seven hybrids that meant more to me than victims forced into a life they didn't deserve was definitely not according to the plan.

Safe And Sound || @bearr02🔞💕💔🔄

↳ You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

A Thief's End || @eleni-cherie🔞💕💔✅

↳ he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

Best Served Cold || @anotherbtswriter🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Yoongi is at the bottom of the organization just trying to stay alive when the story starts.

City Of Lights || @sunnebeam🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (theres no summary, but i will put the warnings instead! - warnings: gangster squad au, smut (18+), cheating, mafia shit, minor character death, murder, mentions of blood)

Cruel Intentions || @explicit-tae🔞💕💔✅

↳ You adored your eldest brother - you truly did. Before his addiction got the best of him, he was amazing at caring for you and your other siblings. Now, however, it was your turn to care for him without the help of your siblings who long abandoned him, advising you to do the same. Once your brother manages to get himself imprisoned, you realize just how much trouble he got himself into. Once your family is threatened, you offer to pay off the debts your brother owes with the one thing any powerful man couldn't resist - your virginity.

Darkest Little Paradise || @sunnebeam🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (theres no summary, but i will put the warnings: mafia au, smut (18+), sex work, mentions of past accident, amnesia / memory loss, more warnings to be added upon series completion)

My Beauty, My Blood || @7cypher🔞💕💔✅

↳ With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

Vixen || @star-my🔞💕💔✅

↳ The door to the opulent room swung open soundlessly, allowing the tall, muscular man to enter unnoticed. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the young woman seated at the vanity.

After Hours || @archivedkookie🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Champagne Confetti || @busanboykoo🔞💕✅💯

↳ “you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.

Flower Girl || @nochukoo97💕✅

↳ you’re in charge of mentoring jungkook, a convict who’s currently doing community service. as time goes by, you grow closer and closer to the man, finding out more about him and his past. jungkook makes you crazy with his small gestures, he makes your cheeks turn the same shade as carnations, he makes you dizzy. most of all, he makes you his flower girl

Mami || @kithtaehyung🔞✅

↳ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

Nothing New || @myg-butterfly💕💔✅

↳ You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Oh, Angel! || @yoongiofmine🔞💕✅

↳ Ever since he met you, Hoseok just couldn’t resist you. Even though you were off limits -many years younger than him and an intern on his sister’s company-, he just had to make you his. You were the perfect baby for him, docile and pliant. What happens when you decide to be a little brat instead?

Oh, Darling! || @yoongiofmine🔞💕💔✅

↳ Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

Peek-A-Boo! || @namfinessed💕💔✅

↳ at a camp that you hated, you find yourself falling for a man that tries to sneak into your tent.

Punching Bag? || @bonobonoyaatheart💕💔✅

↳ You care and worry for Jungkook? In return, you feel like his emotional punching bag, despite of his intentions being different.

Set Me Free || @casuallyimagining💕💔✅

↳ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

Sun Chasers & Moon Watchers || @foredelweiss💕💔✅

↳ after constantly transferring from school to school every couple of months, you've long accepted the impermanence of many aspects of your life. you never expected to want the world to allow you to spend a little more time with seven individuals. your days with them were one of the most beautiful moments in life.

The Five-Year Plan || @jknoah🔞💕💔🔄

↳ you've always had a very strict life plan. when you were twenty you sat down and made your five-year plan, you would get married, get your dream house, have your dream career and then at the end of those five years you'd have a kid. everything was going perfectly to plan, well until your husband came home with divorce papers. now you're somehow trying to stay on track, maybe you could convince your best friend to have a baby with you?

The Monster In The Dark || @themochiverse🔞💔✅💯

↳ Sleep paralysis is a common concern for everyone, but once your episodes start to become more frequent, you meet a horrid monster. A horrid monster who has only come for you to join him in his world. You can't run, you can't hide, but you can only watch whatever the hell is going to happen to you right now.

Ungodly Hours || @explicit-tae🔞💕✅💯

↳ That time you - a broke college student - were willing to do just about anything for a hulu account after your brother kicks you off of his - (and Jungkook would do anything to have you).

Venom || @nochukoo97🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ after a nasty breakup with your ex, who was a boxer, the person who introduced you to the sport, you decided to make life easier for yourself and switch clubs. little did you know that your club leader, also known as ‘venom’ in the ring, would eventually spark your interest. no matter how much jungkook interests you, you can’t bear to risk another failed relationship, you’re still hurt and traumatised from the inside. but will jungkook manage to crawl his way into your heart?

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts fic recs #bts recs #bts established relationship au #bts enemies to lovers au #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #bts soulmates au

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madefate · 4 months

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[ LETTER ] for sender to find a last letter, video, text, etc that receiver made for them, thinking they wouldn’t make it out of the situation alive. Obviously receiver does make it out alive, but the letter/video still exists (and receiver will detail what’s in it). [Stolas and Blitz xoxoxo] / @helldustedstories

Shit, shit, shit !

Blitz slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle any sound that might escape him. He's still not sure if he's lost the tail on him, and he can barely hear the sounds from the hallway over the pounding of his heart in his ears. His other hand is clenched around his newly-rescued phone, his arm wrapped around his middle to make sure he doesn't leave a trail of blood right towards himself.

Honestly, it's probably just for his own peace of mind; there was no way to keep his leg from leaving that trail and he wasn't about to slow himself down more to try and find even more cloth to wrap around the bleeding gashes. Satan, these shitheads. Even if he had his pistol on him, one of those bigass shark goons had made quick work of smashing in the fingers of one hand, and he's not letting go of the phone in the other. Not when he already almost risked his fuckin' life to get the damn thing and run.

Greed warehouses are all shit - vast and winding and filthy and, unfortunately, far enough away that no one is coming for help if they don't know exactly where you are. If they care to at all. Blitz checks the phone screen again, trying to shield the light that spills out - still no fucking signal. Of course there isn't. Crimson is a professional, after all.

This one isn't even on him ! He hadn't sought to make contact with the fuckhead in the first place, and by the sound of it, Moxx had spent his life putting distance between them. It'd be nice to have one less criminal on his ass, but of course this is where things end - caught unawares and carted off to some unmarked hovel in Greed.

Wait, shit, fuck, no. He's not going to die here, is he ? His fingers tremble on the screen as he frantically listens for footsteps echoing off the dirt and metal - still none. But when he glances up at the vent shaft, he realizes with a plummeting feeling that with his leg barely being a leg and only one semi decent hand, there's no way he's crawling up there. Not even with Cash's voice in the back of his mind telling him to walk it off, that they can't afford to take a break, that this world will never take its time to coddle an imp's aches and pains.

Without thinking, he sends a text message to Loona. I luv you so much, Sweetie. It doesn't send - won't send until he finds himself in signal range again. He doesn't know if he wants it to send - if it's akin to admitting defeat.

But - fuck. His vision is getting spotty around the edges from the drugs still in his system and the blood he'd left behind on the warehouse floor. He'd been so confident when he'd wiggled out of the ropes and snatched his phone before running, but Blitz feels the edges of adrenalin starting to wear off, thready and wisping out.

He crawls further, shoving himself behind a steam pipe into the shadows of a corner. Typing - typing already takes him forever, and with one hand? No dice. Swallowing his pride, his frustration, his self loathing, Blitz holds the phone up and hits record, his voice a rough whisper even when he tries to smooth it out and find whatever smile he can manage.

❝ Hey, Stols - I gotta be quick. 'M sorry about that. I wasn't tryin' to do anything stupid, I swear. But 'm sorry anyway. I really hope you get this. If you do, I need you to take care of some stuff for me, okay? 'M pretty sure Moxx and Mills should be able to take over I.M.P. but y'er smart and they may need help with legal stuff. Then go in my computer and search for Barbie. 'M sorry, I never got to tell you about her - she's my sister. I've been trying to keep an eye on her - she's been in and outta rehab and she hates me but she needs someone. I know it's a lot, but if you hear anything about her, make sure she's safe at least? Promised Mom - fuck, just. Make sure she's safe.

❝ 'N I know you have Via and that this is a lot already but don't - don't leave Loona alone, okay ? She's gonna be so pissed, I don't blame her. If you can 'n you don't hate me, please just look out for her. Please I can't - I don't want to leave her, I don't want to leave anyone but - ❞

Blitz's throat is constricting and he realizes that he's sped up, practically hyperventilating and it's clouding his head even more. Fuck, he's running out of time.

❝ - Stols. ❞ His voice breaks then, his smile flickering into a grimace. ❝ I'm so sorry. I was tryin' t' be better, less stupid. Less reckless. I want you to know - ❞ His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, the only sound his breathing. ❝ - I love you. I love you so fucking much and I'm so sorry it took me so long to say it in the first place, and I'm sorry about how much time I wasted being an idiot and ignoring how I felt. Y'er it for me. You always have been. I love you, Sweetheart - fuck - ❞

Reality cracks its way back in with the distant sound of footsteps getting closer, and Blitz is forcing himself to stand as he sends the message that he assumes will be caught in the lack of signal. He draws one deep breath, shoves the burning in his eyes away, finds his best cocksure grin, and takes the leap into the fight to get back home alive.

For them.

#hh tw #( ic. )#( answered. )#( blitz. )#helldustedstories #au. and i'm so ready to wake up now #i uh.#i may have ... played myself. perchance.

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mariska · 20 days

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one of my moms had to drop some of my grandpa's things off in his house after we left my therapy appointment today - he hasn't been home recently because he had a fall, and thankfully my mom found him and was able to help him get to the hospital because we're his only relatives that live close to him so my mom goes over there to help him with stuff or just to visit pretty often. he's in his 90's so we were all very scared about the injury but my mom says he's recovering pretty well.

i haven't been in his house in years and i don't think i've ever been there when he's not home. his house feels so safe and gentle and cosy and peaceful and quiet. all i could hear while we were there was the sound of crickets outside and the clock ticking each second.

when my mom was putting the things of his that she'd brought back where they belonged, i went to look at the photos on his fireplace. there were so many beautiful photos of my grandma throughout her whole life, she died when i was still really young but old enough to have had a lot of great experiences with her & my grandpa. they've always loved and supported me a lot and i will always love them very much, too. i haven't thought about my grandma in a while with all the other chaos happening around me & the world in general. so when i saw the photos of her on top of the fireplace i immediately broke down and sobbed. i was sobbing the whole time my mom and i were there. it just came over me really fast and i couldn't stop.

my mom gave me a little tour of the rooms in his house and pointed cool stuff out to me, before we left. i asked if i could take pictures and she said that was fine. i ended up taking a lot of pictures because i don't know if or when i'll see the inside of this house again, set up the way it is now by my grandpa.

he kept a big stuffed animal bear on a lounge chair in the living room. it was a bear that i specifically loved and played with a lot when my whole family went to visit him & my grandma at their old house in North Carolina one year when i was still a toddler, we still have the home video tapes of me playing around with that stuffed bear before i could even walk properly. he never got rid of it. it sits there in the living room.

my mom told me that my grandma painted the art framed on the wall that i included a pic of here. i remember doing lots of arts & crafts projects/activities with her as a kid but for some reason it's never occurred to me that she was probably an artist in more ways than just doing shrinky dinks and finger paintings with little kid me until now. im not sure if the painting has a title or meaning but i thought it was really beautiful. it made me wonder how many other paintings she did when she was alive.

it wasn't supposed to be an emotional thing, we were just dropping off some stuff of his for when he gets home from the physical rehab center he's recovering at, but i still can't stop thinking about it hours later. it was just so peaceful in there. he collects things in such a similar way as i do. he has dozens and dozens of photo albums filled completely with decades worth of pictures of him & his family's lives. in one of his rooms he has a big 70's style shag carpet rug like i do in my bedroom. i'm not genetically related to him or my grandma or that mom, because i'm a donor kid and only genetically related to my birth mom, the mom who is not related to this specific side of the family, but my grandpa and i have still always been so alike in certain ways. it's such a strange sensation to step into another person's home, when they aren't there, when you haven't been there for years, and have it feel more like Your Home than your actual home. i can't stop thinking about how quiet and peaceful it was in there. i can't stop crying about it all.

it's a weird, surreal feeling. it's been a weird kind of day.

#mar face #long post #i truly do not know where else to like. vocalize all of this so #here is. a post #about my day.

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

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A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 6

Series Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Contains: Angst, fluff, death of a child, hurt/comfort, still a slow burn but I'm teasing you with flirting.

4.5 K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.”- Isaac Asimov.

"These fucking stitches won't stop itching." Thomas had recovered in leaps and bounds since Billy started working with him. He was in online school four days a week, making strides in rehab and his videos had drawn in five high paying clients after their kids saw his videos online.

"Well don't itch them unless you want Hazel to appear from nowhere and yell at you." Billy loved his daily rehab session, not just because he got to work on getting better but because he got to watch Hazel in action.

"Dude just ask her out, you're clearly into each other." Billy hoped it wasn't that obvious, he was doing his best to hide it.

"We're just friends, plus, she's basically my nurse, it would be weird." Dr Charles had brought it up in passing that sometimes patients develop feelings for their caretakers but Billy dismissed it, giving him some line about only dating models.

"I have some news." Thomas sounded conflicted.

"Your parents told me, you'll still have your job once you're discharged." The one thing that was getting hard was watching people leave, sure Billy could do the basics but he couldn't live on his own yet and living in the hospital was getting old.

"I'm going to apply for college classes through the online school, I was wondering if I could use an office at Anvil to study while the house is being built?" The job had paid so well that Thomas' parents had been able to buy a derelict lot where they were going to build a house.

"Hell yeah. I'll get it set up for when so it's ready when you leave." As the disappointment at his limitations came over him Billy put all his energy into his next goal. In truth, he didn't have to do much more before he could finally go home, it was just that those few more steps felt like he was walking across the world.

****

"That place was so fancy. Shit if we had that at the VA life would be easy." Curtis had come to Billy's rehab session that day and had spent his whole time swapping stories with the staff.

"Why doesn't someone bring it up to one of those congressmen you guys protect? I'm sure there'll be something in it for them." Billy had to give it to Hazel, she was always coming up with solutions.

"Why not? Politicians love a good comeback story." Billy was ready to get back out there and all this talk about Anvil was making him itch but right now, Hazel and Lizzy were enjoying their break while he and Curt waited for the football game to come on.

"Can you pass me more fries please?" Billy reached across the table and passed her a handful before she dipped them in sauce and tucked in.

"Real classy, Hazel. You know it's rude to eat so fast?" Billy felt she chest swell with affection for Lizzy, he could tell how close her and Hazel were.

Hazel gasped in mock offence, "Hey, I'm super classy."

Lizzy huffed, "I once watched you eat a jumbo burrito in six bites while hunched over a sink."

Hasel tossed a balled up napkin at her "hey, what happens on a double stays on a double."

Curtis chuckled, "Don't worry Hazel, we've all been there."

Billy smiled and stole a fry off her plate, "yeah, Frank once opened an MRE pouched and down it in one swallow."

Hazel's eyes went wide and she laughed as the vision took over her brain, "wow, I don't know how he managed that but I'm impressed."

Before Billy could reply, a beeping pulled Hazel's attention away, "well looks like I'm needed back on the ward. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

Billy nodded, "yep, I can't wait."

Hazel huffed and gave him that half smile he had learned meant something unpleasant was coming, "you say that now but you have another capacity test tomorrow and I'm not letting the doc go easy on you."

Billy was hit with a mix of emotions, anxiety, apprehension and excitement. "Well then, I better prepare myself."

"Yeah, you better."

****

Billy was awash with nerves as he slowly walked to the occupational therapist's office for his capacity test. It was only four days ago that Thomas was talking about getting ready to leave and now it seemed Billy was in the same place.

"Where's Hazel?" She told Billy she would be there and she was nowhere to be seen.

Lizzy swallowed, "something's happened with one of her patients, I don't think she'll be coming but I'm sure she'll do her best."

Billy rubbed his face as his anger grew, logical he knew she couldn't always be there and there were plenty of times in the past when she was busy working and couldn't spend time with him but as he was leaning in therapy, emotions weren't logical.

"Then were's the fucking doctor?" Billy just wanted this over so he could go back to his room and work on his program.

Lizzy pointed down the hall with a sigh, "just there. Try not to Hulk out, please. If you get through this you've got six more tests to go and then you can go home but if you take a step back emotionally they won't let you leave."

Billy took a deep breath, remembered what Dr Charles had taught him and centred himself as the doctor approached, "alright, we better get this over and done with."

"That's just what I like to hear Mr Russo. Step into my office and we'll start." The doctor opened the door and Billy stepped through, the room was filled with household furniture and exercise equipment. There was a bathtub, steps of various sizes, short balance beams and a handful of things that Billy didn't recognise.

"We'll start over there at the steps, I'll get you to place the ball of your left foot of the edge and try and balance without holding onto the rails." Billy focused on what he had been learning in rehab and tensed his core as he followed the doctor's instructions. It took some doing but he managed to balance without wobbling and the doctor smiled, "good, swap feet please."

The right foot was easier and Billy felt his confidence grow, "good job, now you're going to walk up the steps backwards, do your best to not hold on." Billy turned on his heel and focused on the wall in front of him as he took the first step, then the next, and the next.

"A little bit faster please." Billy felt the frustration rear its head again, he was trying his best but he still did what he was told, "good. See that bathtub over there?" Billy nodded, "You're going to stand next to it and we're going to practice stepping over the edge and getting inside. Once you have that down, I'm going to spread some water on the inside and we'll see how you do on slippery surfaces."

Billy was done, he couldn't stop the rage he felt come over him, "Fucking hell, I'm not some old fuck in my nineties with a broken hip. I've been showering alone for months if you'd taken any time to look at my chart. And who the fuck walks upstairs backwards anyway?" He wanted this over so he could go back to his room, if he thought he was going to waste his time doing this shit, he wouldn't have bothered.

Billy wasn't going to hit the doctor but he wanted to, "Where's Hazel? You can't explain anything for shit and I'm getting sick of it." The look on Lizabeth's face only spurred Billy on, "how the fuck is anyone meant to get better when you don't tell them anything. You clearly don't…"

Lizabeth stepped closer with her hands raised, "Billy, you're right, the doctor should be explaining everything but what's done is done. How about we all sit down and go through what you have left to do and the doctor can explain why, how does that sound?"

Billy took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down, "yeah that sounds good."

Lizzy glared at the doctor one last time before waving towards the desk, "you ask him any questions you have and I'm sure we'll be back to the ward before you can blink."

****

Billy couldn't stop looking at the clock, Hazel was late for her visit and she was never late, "where is she?" His fingers tapped like he was trying to drill a hole in the bed.

"I don't know man, maybe she's busy. There was a huge pile up yesterday, she might have extra kids to take care of." Frank was worried, Billy should be happy he passed his test and was one step closer to going home but all he could focus on was that Hazel wasn't there to celebrate with him.

"Her shift it over, she should be here." A part of Billy's mind knew he was being stupid, she might have had to pick up another shift but she always dropped by to let him know when she had done that before.

"Dude, calm down. Hazel doesn't need to be here every time you do something, being without her isn't going to kill you." Frank understood why Billy was acting this way but it didn't make him worry any less. "I'll go see with Liz knows what's going on, maybe she'll tell you why Hazel isn't here."

Frank left Billy the stew in his feelings, the realisation of their absurdity coming over him as he sat in the quiet. At least Dr Charles was coming later so he could talk to him about how he was feeling.

When Lizzy walked in, he knew something was wrong, "I'm sorry Billy, I really thought Hazel would be here. I shouldn't be telling you this but maybe you can offer her a shoulder once she comes. A kid was hurt badly in the pile up yesterday, it's been touch and go all night but he took a turn this morning. She's sitting with him until he passes."

Billy was hit with a wave of shame, he had no reason to complain, "where's his family?"

Liz shook her head, "he's a foster kid, he doesn't have anyone. She paged me about half an hour ago to let me know it won't be long. She should be here in a little bit."

Billy swallowed, "maybe she should go home a rest, it's not like I have to see her today."

Liz gave Billy a soft smile, "nah, I'm sure she wants to stop in and say hello. Dr Charles will be here in ten anyway so you'll have something to occupy you before she arrives."

"Thanks Lizzy, I'm sorry I was an asshole today." Billy knew he shouldn't have yelled at the doctor but he couldn't help it.

"It's fine, but I expect you to talk to your shrink about it." She didn't sound upset at him but she did sound sad.

"I will, don't worry."

****

Dr Charles arrived right on time and Billy was grateful he could read people so well because he looked sad too, "Have you seen Hazel today?"

Dr Charles nodded, "I did. I'm sure Lizzy let you know why she hasn't stopped by."

Billy nodded, "yeah, is she ok? I know you can't me a lot but doing that can't be easy."

He gave Billy a soft smile as he sat down, "No I can't tell you much but she's how you would expect. It is the healer's paradox, to be good at your job you have to get attached, but if you get too attached, then you can't do your job effectivity. I hear you passed another test today, you must be proud of yourself?"

"I don't know doc, I thought I would be but I'm just pissed off." Billy knew this was normal, he had good days and bad days.

"Well has something upset you or are you just upset?" This was a common question in their session, the answer was always mixed.

"I want to go home and I'm sick of being treated like I can't do anything for myself. There's no point in talking about what I was before the explosion I know that but I want to move on." Billy didn't know what he was trying to say but he learned that's ok too.

"You're allowed to be angry that you feel stuck, most people would in your situation. How have the nightmares been?" Billy had been coming off the meds slowly, Hazel was right, the dreams are weird.

"Not terrible, I'm still sleeping at least five hours and I can remember them when I wake up. I've been dreaming about my mother a lot more." He took a breath, "I hate her sometimes."

"Who wouldn't, she left you all alone in the world. What happens in these dreams?" Dr Charles was always so kind, it was easy for Billy to answer.

"I dream about how I found her but this time she's dead and her eyes shoot open and she's screaming at me, blaming me for everything. I would have given her the world, I would have given her everything she ever wanted if she had just wanted me." His breath caught in his throat.

Dr Charles paused so Billy could compose himself, "But you still took her in. You got her to one of the best care homes in the city and you visited her every week before you got hurt so you do care for her. If she could answer your questions, what would be the first thing you would ask?"

"Why she didn't love me enough to keep me? I've seen the parents in rehab, they would do anything for their kids but my mother abandoned me. I want to ask her if she ever thought of me, I know she never checked on me, she could have taken me out of that group home but she didn't." Deep down, Billy knew why, she was a drug addict most of her life, the only time she was sober was when she was carrying him and the moment he was out, she was using again, she couldn't be a mother.

Dr Charles nodded, "I think her giving you up was a sign that she loved you and I'm sure that if she could have kept you she would have. You're very likely leaving here in the next month, how do you feel about being able to see her again?"

"I don't know. Frank's been keeping an eye on her so I know she's doing ok. It would have been nice to have her here." Billy was feeling better by the moment but he always felt that was during his therapy sessions.

"You're allowed to not know, that's what we're here to sort out. We have some more time, how about we pick up where we left of yesterday and walk through the explosion again?" Billy could remember most of it now, he could even remember parts of the ambulance ride but there were still blanks and he hated it.

"Sure doc, I'd like that."

****

Knock knock

Billy was expecting the dinner cart but when he looked up he was greeted by Hazel with a little while box in her hand, "hello."

Billy smiled, "hello, what do you have there?"

"I made some cupcakes yesterday, I brought you one to celebrate your success in your assessment today." Despite her smile, she sounded so sad.

"Wow, cupcakes from home. You must have a lot of faith in me if you brought it in without knowing it I'd pass." Frank had gone on and on about how great her food was, he only wished he could try for food under happier circumstances.

She sat next to him at the table and slid the box across, "I do. The cupcake is triple chocolate with chocolate icing."

Billy opened the box, the icing was beautifully piped, and little chocolate shavings were dotted around the icing peaks, "shit this looks good."

Hazel smiled, "please wait till you have dinner, I don't want to ruin your meal."

Billy chuckled, "sure." She still seemed sad, even if she was doing her best to hide it, "Liz told me what happened today, are you doing alright?"

Hazel shrugged, "no but I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've had to do something like that and it won't be the last. I'm sure you've been there before too, comforting someone in their last moments is easier than you think it's going to be."

Billy nodded, "I've been there more times that I like to count, but you're right, it's strange how easy it is."

"His name was Harry, I didn't get to talk to him but he was wearing truck socks. The end was peaceful." Hazel's eyes were stuck on a stain on the table.

"You did the right thing staying with him, it happened a few times when I was a kid. The nurses always made things better." He reached across the table and took her hand in his, it feel like too long since he had touched her.

"No one should be alone at the end, I don't understand why he didn't matter like everyone else." Hazel's effort to take a deep breath and compose herself failed and her chest heaved. Billy slid around and wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her head in his neck as she started to cry.

Something about it felt right, like this was what Billy was supposed to be doing. He could see himself being there for Hazel after a long day at work, sitting with her on the couch while she talked about her day. Her arms slid around his body and he hugged her tighter as she calmed down, "You're getting so strong."

Billy chuckled, "yeah, like you said, you're kinda mean. I'm worried if I don't lift enough weights, you'll hit me with them." Her laugh filled his chest with warmth.

Hazel pulled away and wiped her face with a sniff, "I'm sorry, that wasn't really appropriate."

Billy waved his hand, "no, it's fine, we all need a hug sometimes. Maybe you should stay here for a while? You can get dinner from the cafe and we can watch some MMA reruns, you know, end the day on a good note."

Hazel smiled, "that actually sounds really good." They shifted around and Hazel settled next to him while Billy turned on the TV, "you wanna get something from the cafe too? We can use my discount."

Billy smiled, "sure, what's good?"

Hazel thought for a moment, "only four things, the fries, the cheese melt, the greek salad and the ice cream sundaes."

"The cheese melt sounds good, maybe we can get two of those and two salads?" Billy was happy that Hazel didn't sound sad anymore.

"Good idea, we can order when the meal cart comes along." Hazel shifted closer and their knees touched but she made move to shift away.

"Can I share my cupcake with you?" I'll feel bad if I'm the only one enjoying it." Billy wasn't going to lie, he was trying to charm her.

"I'm not going to say no to that." The way she looked at him made Billy think it was working, "I have some good news, Thomas' last day is on Friday, we're going to have a little party for him and it would make everyone really happy if you were there."

Billy smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

****

Friday came in a rush of more time with the occupational therapist and Billy running himself ragged to make his next milestone so he could leave. He was happy to go to Thomas' party, he even got Frank to bring him a nice pair of jeans and a dress shirt.

When he walked into rehab, Hazel was already there in a set of light blue scrubs covered in sunflowers and a party hat. The smile she gave Billy when she saw him lit up the room and she waved him over with a flurry. He smiled at her as he took in the details of her scrubs, "you look nice."

"So do you, I love the shirt." For the first time in his adult life, a compliment from a beautiful woman had him feeling shy.

"Are these your party clothes?" Billy wondered what Hazel looked like in a dress, he imagined she could look good in anything.

"Yep, I only own scrubs so I have this set when I have to go somewhere fancy. I have a lacy set for dates." Billy took a deep breath, she was flirting with him and he was going to give it right back.

"Ooo, red or black?" He had no idea what had changed but he liked it.

"Green, it suits me." He could see she was holding back a giggle but she didn't do a very good job and with a smile from him her face was breaking out into a grin.

"When you two are done with the foreplay, you wanna come and celebrate?" Lizabeth had been looking at Billy strangely since the night Hazel showed up in his room and he wondered if Hazel had told her something.

"Sorry Lizzy, we'll be right there." Hazel turned back to Billy with a smile, "no funny business now, we got to keep room for Jesus when we dance."

Billy shook his head, "I wouldn't dream of it."

****

This was the most fun party Billy had been to in a long time, over the course of his stay, Hazel had taught him that children had much richer lives than he thought and he found himself listening to them go on and on with genuine interest.

Right now, he was chatting with one of Thomas' friends from the ward about how New York had the best Pizza because of its water. Hazel was looking at him every now and then with a smile on her face and Billy found himself wondering what it would be his life would be like if she was in it in different circumstances.

Hazel came wandering over with two cups in her hand, handing Billy one and giving the other one to the boy he was sitting with, "are you telling Billy all about the superiority of New York water?"

Billy smiled, "yeah, I'm mean, now that I have all this information, I'm definitely going to win the debate every time this comes at up work."

"New York Pizza is the best miss, there's no question." Billy could see how comfortable her patients felt with her, it was like magic.

"Well, Mr Doran, maybe Hannah would like to hear your theory." The boy followed her eye line then popped up with a smile, gave Billy a quick goodbye and raced off.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Billy could see clear as day that the boy had a crush on the girl Hazel had just pointed to.

Hazel nodded, "Of course, they've talked every day since she checked in. I'm just helping him out, her favourite food is Pizza."

Billy chuckled, "is there anything you can't do? You're the best nurse on the ward, killer in rehab, an amazing cook, a matchmaker, hell, you're even a good shoot. What's your secret?"

Hazel smiled and reached out her hand as the music grew overhead, "I don't know, maybe I'll tell you after a dance."

Billy took her hand with a smile as everyone moved to the middle of the room and placed the other hand on her waist. They kept a respectful distance but that didn't stop Billy from trying to take in every detail of her face, the realisation that she was a foot shorter than him hitting him like a ton of bricks, "you're kinda short, you know that?"

She giggled, "I work with kids so it doesn't matter. You got something against short people?"

Billy's chest filled with lightness, "no, I'm just making an observation."

"Ahh, an observation. You make a lot of those." Billy wasn't going to lie, he enjoyed flirting with the nurses and doctors on the ward but Hazel was something different.

"Are you telling me I have a reputation?" He couldn't if she was boosting his ego or giving him shit but he liked it either way.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure if you weren't a patient you'd a very busy man." Something about the nurses talking about him behind his back emboldened him even more.

"Hey, I'm a romantic, who says I wouldn't find a winner and settle down?" Hazel knew that was bullshit, Frank saw to that every time he had the chance.

"I'll believe that when I see it Russo." There was a pause and he got caught in her gaze, he couldn't remember the last time a woman looked at him the way Hazel was. His eyes drifted to her lips but before he collapsed under the overwhelming urge to kiss her, Thomas' parents called everyone over.

She blinked like she was yanked out of a trace and smiled at him, "are you ready to day goodbye?"

Billy smiled back, "it's not really goodbye, he's going to be working for me."

Hazel let out a single laugh, "yeah, you're right. Come on, we better go get us some cake."

Billy's fingers itched to pull her back in but he stopped himself, "good idea."

****

"You know he's not technically your patient?" With the party over and everyone back in their rooms, it fell the Hazel and Lizzy to start the clean up.

"Yes he is, I was instrumental in his recovery. I don't know what you're getting at Liz but you need to drop it." Liz could see Hazel's feelings from a mile off.

"But he wasn't, other than helping in rehab, you gave him no medical care and need I remind you, his friends helped him in that area too." Lizabeth knew that it wasn't unusual for patients to devolvement feelings for their careers but she could see this went deeper than that.

"And you know that no matter what, there's no way to tell what feelings are real and what's been caused by him being hurt. He was there for me at one of the worst times in my life for half an hour and then I didn't see him for two years. Nothing good can come from pursuing that." Hazel might have had feelings for Billy, but there was no way she was going to act on them.

"So give it a few months and then try again. You know the hospital won't care. I know you might be blinder than a bat when it comes to this stuff but this isn't what you think it is." Liz knew her friend, she knew Hazel would never take advantage of a patient.

"I'm just saying, maybe you shouldn't treat Billy like a child by thinking that his feelings are only transference. He might have a head injury but he's not stupid." Liz knew that was a low blow but she knew that's where Hazel was going to go.

Hazel sighed and put the broom down before turning to her friend, "please don't. Just let this go. In a few months he will forget about me, he needs to leave all this behind him."

Liz huffed, "you don't know him very well at all."

Part 7

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

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cassidyxemerson · 4 months

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( DAISY EDGAR JONES . CISFEMALE . SHE/HER ) - the chicago resident , ( EMERSON CASSIDY ) , was heard blaring ( I HATE IT HERE / TAYLOR SWIFT ) this morning . the ( TWENTY-THREE ) year old is a ( BOOKSTORE ATTENDANT ) in the city & has lived the ( WEST ) tower for ( ONE WEEK ) . since being here , they have been told to be ( - QUIET) , but also ( + HELPFUL ) , i guess we'll find out soon !

Emerson Cassidy’s life had never been easy. From the moment she was born there were problems and situations so wildly out of her control that from a young age she learned to just keep her head down and take it. To accept the hand that the universe had dealt her and to try and make the best of it. Emerson never really knew her parents, not really. They’d been in and out of jail and rehabs for all of her childhood, so the only really parental figure in her life had been her aunt, who also tried to help make the best of a really bad situation. And she had her brother too, Jameson. Jameson was only a few years older, but he was her protector, watching out for her and taking care of her as much as he could. To this day Emerson is pretty sure she owes every good thing in her life to her brother- either by what he’d done for her or what he’d taught her.

She learned to read from a young age, reading and writing by the time she was three and that love of literature followed through for her entire life. Reading and learning allowed the young girl an escape from her life, and when her parents died when she was just seven, Emerson ached for that escape more than ever. Especially as the years went on and she kept realizing just how cruel and unfair the world really was. She still kept her head down though, still just tried to grin and bear it. And for the most part, it worked. As she grew up, Emerson (by some miracle) managed to stay kind, and to stay soft. She still tried to see the good in the world and in all people, she tried to see reasoning behind every bad thing. And for a while there, their lives were good. Emerson excelled in school, being top of her classes, and Jameson finally had love and seemingly a peace in his life that she’d wanted for her big brother for years.

So of course another wrench would have to be thrown into their paths.

Jameson had always been labelled as trouble, but Emerson knew who he really was. She knew the acting out- the drinking and the fights and the stealing- it was all due to the horrible cards they’d been dealt. She knew the group he hung out with weren’t as bad as people perceived (after all, they even allowed his baby sister to sometimes hang around). And she knew it wasn’t his fault, not really. She knew he was a good person, someone who loved her and took care of her, someone who was strong and defiant and good. So when the news broke that he’d killed someone…Emerson knew down to her bones that he didn’t do it. But sadly, the damage was done, and few believed Jameson’s word when stacked up against the life he’d led. And so, again, the world had taken from her.

Rumors and whispers had always followed the Cassidy children around. They were somewhat of outcasts in their town given how they just didn’t belong, sticking out like sore thumbs even after their aunt had gained custody and made sure they were always well taken care of. Jameson was too loud and Emerson was too quiet, the two not fitting in into the cookie-cutter lives so many lead here. So when Jameson was sent to prison (just like her parents) when she was just barely seventeen, it all finally became a bit too much for her. She could handle the whispers and the looks when she had her brother there, when she had someone who understood and would cut through all the noise, but without Jameson she was just…alone. Even his (and now her) friend group couldn't quite fill the void that her brother left, even if they did everything in their power to keep an eye on her and keep her safe. So when Emerson graduated high school (still top of her class, thank you very much) she applied to schools all over the country and got into NYU on scholarship, and as much as she wanted to stay close to where her sister-in-law, niece, and her friends were, she knew she needed to do this for herself too.

New York was a whole new world to her and she loved it. Emerson thrived in a space where no one knew her name or her family, where no one judged her before even meeting her. She again did well in her classes, actually had friends… She got herself a tiny little apartment and worked in a library and honestly, life was good—even if It still felt like something was missing. She kept in contact with Jameson as best she could, kept in touch with their friends and especially with her sister-in-law and niece, genuinely loving the little girl and trying to facetime with her as much as possible. Every day though she still worried about her brother and longed for the day that she’d see him again.

It’s been four years now since she moved, five since Jameson had gone to jail for a murder she knew he didn’t commit. And it’s been almost a month since she’d been told that he was out. Emerson admittedly was more than a little hurt that Jameson hadn’t immediately told her herself and she instead had to hear about it from their aunt, but of all the things she wanted to say to her brother, yelling at him wasn’t one of them. Life was great in New York, but something just…didn’t fit right. Because even with the looks and the whispers, Chicago was still home--and she missed home. So she’s moved out of her apartment in the lower east side of Manhattan and packed her things and is now back in Chicago (with her cat Ichabod, no less), getting herself an studio apartment all her own. She’s still the same soft, quiet girl she’s always been. She still always has her nose stuck in a book, would sooner say fiddlesticks than swear, but she’s at least a little braver now too, a little less feeble, and this time she’s not going to run away. Especially if she’d have her brother back at her side.

#intro

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alitwebster · 1 year

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closed starter for @riverxjackson, in rehab Ali always needed to have a purpose. A purposeless life wasn't worth living, he had been told very early on in hjis self-discovery journey. Everyone's purpose could come from two sources : the outside, or within yourself. For so long, Ali thought he was more than enough to have a purpose. And he was, truly. He lead a fulfilling life, managed to stop hating himself, he'd even come to love the person he was. Back home, he even started his business. Until it eventually failed, but he was happy to be who he was. He chose the purpose he had, for every page he turned. This time, in East Haven, things were different. Ali still had not found a purpose within himself. It would come, he was sure, but in the meantime, he had decided to be useful to the community he wanted to start belonging to. That's why he was here today, in rehab. No, he didn't plan on staying there. Ali didn't think he had any reason to be here for himself. He was actually here for you. Sure, you didn't know each other. Yet. You didn't know each other yet. He volunteered today to pay a visit to those whose families didn't come much. Ali wasn't one to judge. He heard some of you guys needed company, and so he decided he would be just the person needed. When he arrived at the facility, Ali was taken to your corridor, and tried a random door first. He was greeted with loud snores and decided to try another one. Yours, actually. He knocked, and made his presence known. "Hi, not a nurse, actually someone from outside. I come bearing gifts." You didn't know him, but Ali made sure you understood his smile and box of games and sweet things to munch on were a peace offering to compensate for the next thing he was going to say. " They thought having strangers visiting you would cheer you up. I thought cookies were a better option. I can leave them here and leave, if you'd prefer that."

#sorry for the wait !!! Hope it's okay !#ali interactions #ali - river

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jamesonxcassidy · 2 years

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“Time won’t wait for either of us, we don’t belong, never better, we both know it’s good that you’re gone “

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [JAMESON CASSIDY]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [JOSEPH QUINN]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX] year old [MECHANIC at PIT STOP GARAGE]. Word is you’re [CLEVER] but can also be a bit [HAUNTED] and your favorite song is [GERI bySUPERHUMANOIDS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

TW: criminal activities, abuse, accidental murder

Family

Father: Quentin Cassidy (Deceased)

Mother: Lenore Cassidy ( Deceased)

Sister: Emerson Cassidy

Aunt: UTP

Daughter: Emma Cassidy

Wanted Connections

Ex Girlfriend: Mila Clarke

Sister: Emerson Cassidy

Aunt

Best Friend(s); Darcy Anthony

Coworkers: Jude Bordelon

Ex friends

Bio

Jameson Cassidy never really got a fair shot in life and where he is now proved that he never really had a chance. Born to an incredibly dysfunctional family, Jameson didn’t know peace for most of his early years. His parents were in and out of jail for various illegal activities and much of the toxic environment was brought home to the young Jameson and his younger sister. The pair were often removed from their parents care and placed in the home of their aunt while the parents were either serving time or in rehab. Eventually, their behavior caught up with them resulting in his parents death’s while Jameson was still rather young. The siblings were then placed in the permanent care of their aunt.

While his homelife had improved considerably and was filled with love, the reputation of their parents followed them wherever they went. Even the town of Aurora Bay had been privy to the world Jameson and his sister had been subjected to when they were younger. It was like a scarlet letter that followed them no matter how much time had passed. It also didn’t help that as soon as Jameson hit puberty he started to act out himself. His circumstances may have been better, but the damage had already been done. It started small with taking things that weren’t his and being caught underage drinking. Then it escalated into stealing larger things,vandalism, and getting into fights. His aunt tried to help him the best she could, but it seemed like Jameson was heading down the same path as his parents despite how good things were becoming. There was a small silver lining though that kicked off what Jameson believed to be a change for the better

It seemed like a cliche for Jameson at first but he began to realize that love would save the day. He was actually incredibly bright but never wanted to apply himself in school. It was why he had found himself getting tutoring for a subject he knew but didn’t apply himself in. It was also how he met someone who would change his life. His tutor had been someone he had always seen in passing but never have a second glance at because he just didn’t think they existed in the same worlds, but she knew of him and didn’t think there was really a bad bone in his body. Just someone who had survived a lot and needed someone to give him a chance. It was that kind of care that made Jameson begin to fall in love with her.

If people had an image of him why should he prove them wrong if he knew deep down their mind had been already made up. Or at least that was what he thought at first, but from the moment of their first session Jameson realized not everyone had the same idea about him. He started to apply himself more and eventually brought his grades up enough to finish high school while also giving him the urge to pursue higher education. Jameson had always been good with his hands. He could fix anything that was in front of him and often found himself picking up shifts at the local garage. He knew if he just applied himself like he had done previously he might be able to work his way into a school to become and engineer. All through that time he had the support of his aunt, sister and now his girlfriend. He was going to make something of his life and try to ignore those who seemed to take issue with him. He was going to save up for school but also save up to propose to his girlfriend and the loud voices of a few couldn’t deter him.

Jameson wasn’t a fool though. He knew plenty of people had a good reason to dislike him. He was irresponsible and had a history of trouble. A history that sometimes still blended into the present and try as he might he couldn’t shake the sins of his past or his parents. He just wanted a shot to make something of himself. However, when a series of incidents started to happen in town, all fingers pointed to Jameson, even though for the first time it wasn’t him. He was being set up to take the fall for someone else. Who would ever believe he was innocent this time? Public opinion started to turn on Jameson again, but he wasn’t going to let it sit and rot away his progress. He began to work with his girlfriend to figure out who it was until it had been someone who had taken an issue with this new leaf he was turning over. It had been one of his friends who had been setting him up and was hoping Jameson would take the heat off of him for having a not so stellar past. Jameson was unsure how to react other than feeling hurt that his trust in someone had been broken. He also knew if he went to the cops about his friend no one would believe him as they were someone who was well liked in town and knew he’d get away with the lie.

At the revelation; Jameson went off to find them and the pair got into a huge physical altercation. Jameson could have used his words or reported him to the police but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. Unfortunately, the situation escalated and while they fought, Jameson’s opponent had slipped and fallen high and hard enough to break his neck. That moment Jameson’s whole future came crashing down. His college aspirations, his relationships, and his freedom.

Jameson spent the next few years in and out of court and jail trying to prove it had been an accident, and while he was ultimately charged with manslaughter he knew whatever good faith he had gained from trying to better himself had been destroyed that night. He blames himself for everything that night and wishes he could go back and fix things. It wouldn’t have fixed everything but he knew he should have just down something different.

Now that he’s been released, Jameson tends to keep to himself. His small social circle is even smaller now that he’s become more reclusive and he’s someone who could be found mostly working on cars or reading by himself in a quiet place. He’s wary of his old friends because he’s not sure what they knew or if they knew anything and if he is social; he takes a while to come out of his shell. He also has been avoiding his former girlfriend like the plague because he’s scared he has nothing to offer her anymore and believes that he wouldn’t be given another chance. However he’s still in love with her and still has the ring he was going to propose to her with. She’s also been avoiding him due to her own reasons, but there’s something more there that Jameson is unaware of. Jameson also isn’t sure if he should insert himself back in her life or not. In the end he knows he’s in a strange sort of limbo and hopes that there are people who saw beyond what had happened and know he’s trying his best to stay out of trouble and live his family name down once and for all.

@aurorabayaesthetic

#aurorabay.intro #about #this poor boy is a mess but please love him

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emersonxcassidy · 2 years

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Welcome to Aurora Bay, [EMERSON CASSIDY]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [DAISY EDGAR JONES]. You must be the [TWENTY-FOUR] year old [ATTENDANT AT OCEANIA BOOKSHOP]. Word is you’re [STUDIOUS] but can also be a bit [QUIET] and your favorite song is [DEAR READER BY TAYLOR SWIFT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

tw: parental death, vague drug mention, murder

So of course another wrench would have to be thrown into their paths.

Rumors and whispers had always followed the Cassidy children around. They were somewhat of outcasts in Aurora Bay given how they just didn’t belong, sticking out like sore thumbs even after their aunt had gained custody and made sure they were always well taken care of. Jameson was too loud and Emerson was too quiet, the two not fitting in into the expensive, cookie-cutter lives so many lead here. So when Jameson was sent to prison (just like her parents) when she was just barely seventeen, it all finally became a bit too much for her. She could handle the whispers and the looks when she had her brother there, when she had someone who understood and would cut through all the noise, but without Jameson she was just…alone. And she didn’t want to be. So when Emerson graduated high school (still top of her class, thank you very much). She applied to schools all over the country and got into NYU on scholarship, and as much as she wanted to stay close to where her brother was, she knew she needed to do this for herself too.

New York was a whole new world to her and she loved it. Emerson thrived in a space where no one knew her name or her family, where no one judged her before even meeting her. She again did well in her classes, actually had friends… She got herself a tiny little apartment and worked in a library and honestly, life was good—even if It still felt like something was missing. She kept in contact with Jameson as best she could, and even kept in touch with his ex(?) and her niece, genuinely loving the little girl and trying to facetime with her as much as possible. Every day though she still worried about her brother and longed for the day that she’d see him again.

It’s been four years now since she moved, five since Jameson had gone to jail for a murder she knew he didn’t commit. And it’s been almost a month since she’d been told that he was out. Emerson admittedly was more than a little hurt that Jameson hadn’t immediately told her herself and she instead had to hear about it from their aunt, but of all the things she wanted to say to her brother, yelling at him wasn’t one of them. Life was great in New York, but something just…didn’t fit right. Because even with the looks and the whispers, Aurora Bay was still home. She missed the sunrises and walking on the beach, missed her aunt’s cooking. She missed home. So she’s moved out of her apartment and packed her things and is now back in Aurora Bay (with her cat Ichabod, no less). She’s still the same soft, quiet girl she’s always been. She still always has her nose stuck in a book, would sooner say fiddlesticks than swear, but she’s at least a little braver now too, a little less feeble, and this time she’s not going to run away. Especially if she’d have her brother back at her side.

@aurorabayaesthetic

#aurorabay.intro #bio

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enigmaincrimson · 4 months

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Tinkering with ideas for the Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss verse...

Having Despair not actually being a circus act in of themselves seems kind of fitting.

It's everywhere, in the shadows, in the open, lurking behind every corner, making everything work from behind the scenes, and when the other seven fail you, she is there... waiting with open arms.

Whether you take that time to realize that you can do better or let it drag you under, it's up to you.

Her ring is like a parody of the other 7 rings, or a reflection in absence of those 7. On one side, it's a place of rest and relaxation... the air is clean, there's no crime, and everything you could need is provided... to the point that there's more than a few retirement and vacation homes, rehab centers, and the like there.

Even in paradise, one can find hell however, and well... with too much peace, one can find stagnation, which is also why the despair ring has the most aggressive research and development facilities among the 7 rings.

To play with how it's historically treated, the despair ring is an unmarked ring, referenced in history, but hidden in view and out of sight. There's no spot on the elevator either.

Yet... it still exists, its presence is always felt, almost like it taunts you with how it's just out of reach and just as eagerly drag you under if you aren't prepared.

Which makes me wonder... does the 8th ring have its own proper deadly sin? Considering the time it's been, they've already submitted to Aveline's own ambitions.

Also, to play with the present yet not seen... if the seven deadly sins each have their own app, then the phone and everything running on it has its origins in the despair ring.

Or to put it another way, if you sit down on a chair every day, does anyone ever wonder where the chair came from?

Sure, a chair isn't the best example, but that always present, yet rarely acknowledged feel seems to fit... yet it might break at any moment and take you to the floor with it.

But what kind of demons naturally live in the despair ring, if it's not a "phantom ring" like I originally pictured?

That and I kind of wandered off as I started worldbuilding again.

So... I probably should stop myself at this point.

#enigmaincrimson #ooc

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unknownjpegs · 8 months

Text

waffle house

The girl behind the formica counter — which seems to Maran almost stereotypical in that it could have been yanked out of some nuclear-era movie set — likes him. He can tell. Finds him cute the way girls who think they might want to fuck him but aren’t quite sure yet find him cute. She twirls her hair as she hands him two menus.

“Just that’s good.” He hands one back, hooks a thumb over his shoulder to the man that she has so far completely ignored. “We’ll end up sharin’ anyway.”

Her nose scrunches in distaste, eyes falling to Ben’s muddy combat boots and up, up to stringy rain-wet hair. When she seats them, she gives him another one of those looks. Ben switches his toothpick to the other side of his mouth and then leans out of the booth to shake his hair all over her uniform.

“Well now I’ve got to tip her twenty-five, Ben, thanks so much.” Maran mumbles.

“Or you could tip n-nothing.” He retorts, but Maran knows it’s for show. Despite the looming stress of his upcoming defense, he’s in particularly high spirits. They’ve had a good day — date day, every other Thursday because Ben’s got a particular study schedule. One of them picks and plans. For the last few weeks, they’ve spent the night ordering in and melting into Ben’s bed. Sometimes innocently, more often not.

Final location of today’s date hadn’t been Maran’s idea, surprisingly. He tended to go for the corn-syrup related choices in all aspects of life, whereas Ben was a little more mature about sugar intake.

“She’s going to spit in our food if you continue to be a prick.”

Ben offers him raised eyebrows, a filthy swipe of a tongue over his teeth. Maran rolls his eyes. He pretends to be engrossed in the menu when Benny gets up to glide around the table, move from across to right against Maran. He could resist the arm slung over his shoulders, tucking him closer into Ben’s side. He could. Really.

“I g-got a coupon code from Lark before we left.” Benny purrs in his ear, hand sliding to cup the back of his neck and squeeze. Talks as if he’s sharing the world’s most effective seduction line. And still, despite the ridiculousness, Maran shivers.

“You probably need the app.”

The nasty, suggestive expression on his boyfriend’s face turns immediately to disgust.

“I don’t w-want to download an app.”

“It’s not like you could,” Maran snorts. “Didn’t you leave your phone in Noms’ purse?”

“One of them.” Benny intones solemnly before crossing himself (Maran is pretty sure it’s the wrong way) and sighing. “Rest in fucking p-peace. I’ll never find that thing now.”

Maran flips the page of the menu. “Too bad. This morning, when you were in the shower? I sent you this picture—“

“Text Nomi and ask her to l-look for it.”

He laughs, fighting the whiny pleading and pawing hands that follow. He pretends, once again, that the menu’s taken up all his attention; dramatically, highly deliberative even though he knows from Xavier’s advice: the only true first judge of a breakfast place is the chocolate chip pancake.

Ben’s final piece of bacon disappears around the second plate of pancakes Maran orders.

“Swear,” he says, slumping back into the seat and Benny’s chest, “I could polish a whole other plate of those little fuckers.”

“You’re going to c-crash so hard later.” Ben says. It’s nearly all tease, but the note of genuine worry always weaves beneath. Maran turns his head and presses a kiss just beneath his collarbone in gratitude.

“Until then I think all that sugar unlocked like thirty percent more of my brain.”

He tilts his face up, briefly making eye contact with the waitress — and the cook beyond the counter, and another patron across the diner, and someone standing outside smoking— before Ben leans over him. Hair falls into his face, tickles his nose, and suddenly he’s overtaken by that wintery blue.

“I’m putting you in s-sugar rehab.”

“Our version of Candyland didn’t have that part of the map.” Maran jokes. “Must be an American thing? That and the big overcrowded prison of gingerbread people.”

Ben squeezes his cheek and holds his head still for a kiss. It’s neither slow nor chaste enough to be given in public, but Maran doesn’t pull away until it’s done. His face is hot from the attention, his fingers twisting the fabric of Ben’s awful printed shirt at his waist.

“You are so f-fucking hot for that.” Ben smacks a loud, obnoxious one to his forehead. “Benji laid the g-g-groundwork. Bless that loser.”

Maran scoots away. The attention is overwhelming — he doesn’t mind it. Loves it, really. Ben is sometimes just too — he’s so him, right there in Maran’s face. Unapologetic and nasty, even if he keeps his voice down. Possessive, even if he hides those little touches behind or beneath something. And if anyone saw —

What? Maran imagines him saying. If anyone saw, what? They’d know? Know that I touch you like that and worse when we’re alone? Know you like it? That you beg for it, sometimes?

Maran blinks rapidly: first at the pattern on Ben’s shirt, the cuffed sleeve that reveals the inky tapestry of his forearm, then at his syrupy plate, his sweating glass of water.

“Okay I — I’m going to. I’m going to go to the bathroom, yeah? And then when I come back, uh.” He pats Benny’s knee, nudging patiently then incessantly when he makes no effort to move.

“Uh?”

“We can practice your defense intro, yeah? That’s the part I heard you doin’ earlier.”

Ben’s turn to look at him with that far-off, misty sort of stare. The arm around his shoulders drops suddenly to his waist, and Maran has to fight not to be dragged into his lap.

“Fuck off,” Maran snorts, trying to contain his laughter so the poor employees and other diners don’t get more of an annoying show than they already have. Except Benny’s on the outside of the booth. Yanking ath him, genuinely trying to wrestle him into place, and Maran only narrowly escapes. He scoots across his lap, legs hooked into the aisle between their spot and the bar. Maran rocks his hips back, spine arching (diversion positioning himself better to escape, of course).

Ben grunts and his hands drop their hold briefly. No doubt with the intention of putting them somewhere else Maran will barely be able to withstand.

Instead, he takes the opportunity to push away, wrench himself free.

“You’re nasty.” Maran accuses, once standing outside the booth. He’s a little out of breath from the wrestling. He points his finger down at Ben, who darts forward to swipe his tongue around it. Maran makes a noise and then snatches his hand away, clutching his own wrist. “Nasty.”

“Hurry back.” Ben says. “So I can p-pull out my flash cards to show you.”

When he gestures obscenely between his legs, one ankle folded over his knee, Maran groans in disappointment. And also maybe like, a tiny bit of anticipation.

Waffle House bathrooms, as it turns out, are not the pinnacle standard of cleanliness. Maran stands in front of the big cracked mirror, debates a moment, then uses the corner of his hoodie to turn the faucet off.

“Changed my mind.”

“Fuckin’ —“ Maran sucks in a breath, hand over his heart when he spots Ben’s head peeking in the door. “Did you…Ben, I wasn’t gone two minutes!”

“I m-missed you.” Ben mopes. He slinks around the corner. If there’s a lock on the door, Maran doesn’t hear it get turned. “And I was sitting there thinking: oh fuck. Maran w-will lose out on the most important part of a Waffle House visit if I don’t commit to making it happen for him.”

Maran narrows his eyes suspiciously, but the slowly growing grin can do nothing but remain firmly in place.

“Fight?”

“Close.”

“Kitchen burns down?”

“C-Colder.”

Maran huffs. He lets arms wind around his waist from behind, settles his own hands on Ben’s wrists. “I give up.”

“That was two fucking guesses, Mar.” Ben laughs against the nape of his neck. The warm puff of breath makes Maran shiver once again, his nails digging briefly into tattooed skin. “Oh, nasty. Are you getting hot for it right now? H-Here? In fucking Waffle House?”

Maran glares at him in the mirror. “What’s the experience.”

Ben’s eyes darken. Swallow up a bit of that pretty color, become lidded and shark-like over his shoulder. One of his hands slips up Maran’s stomach (absolutely maddening) to touch his cheek. They both watch his hand trace that path, watch Maran’s double go slack jawed for a gasp when it settles around his reflection’s neck.

“Making out in the bathroom.”

He throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “Seems like that might be a you thing. How many times —“

“None,” Benny says in a falsetto. “You’d be my first, tee-hee.”

Maran rolls his eyes again, squirming in his grasp so he’s held a little tighter. When Ben’s thick arm locks around his waist, his other flexing over Maran’s throat, he has to fight a whine. There’s a shiver of sensation under the skin, up his arms. Goosebumps follow it, then heat. He’s always hated when someone pulled or yanked on him to get him to slow down, stop, go somewhere else. Felt a bit like he was the punchline of a joke he didn’t have the privilege of being in on. Look at Maran, head off somewhere, better lead him around.

With Ben, with Nomi and her fucking trunks full of tantalizing stuff, Maran doesn’t feel any of that. With Ben restraining him, a hand that could turn mean or nice with every breath, he just feels…held.

He should put up more of a fight about it. The bathroom is nasty; when he tips his head back, loose because he’s been dizzily hypnotized already, he spots a strange mold spot in the top corner of the ceiling.

“Gross.”

Ben drags a hand down his chest, fingers rubbing little circles the closer they press towards his hipbones. “You would fuckin’ hate New York. It’s this times a thousand.”

“I’d like it,” Maran says thoughtfully, dreamily. He rubs his cheek on Ben’s shoulder, catches his gaze in the mirror from the corner of his eye. “You like it, right? So can’t be all bad.”

The world shifts in the pause that follows his worse. Maran finds himself suddenly facing Ben instead, his hands clutching the sink’s edge as he’s lifted.

“Real fucking unsanitary.” Maran says breathily, chest heaving. With ankles locked behind Ben’s back, he finds balance on the porcelain.

“I-I would gargle a gallon of that toilet water if it meant I got to go anywhere n-near your cock.”

Maran’s entire face scrunches in disbelief. “Holy shit. Now that’s the worst of the lot you’ve come up with so far. Nah, like, ever. Not with toilet water mouth you won’t.”

Ben leans forward, jerks Maran tighter up against his body until the press of their chests is inevitable. He makes filthy, loud smacking noises. Purses his lips and tries to go for Maran’s cheek, his mouth, his neck. He kicks and squirms until that hand lifts back up to his neck.

“Hold still.” Ben says, eyes locked to his lips. “Open your mouth.”

Maran’s lips curl “Well, which is it? Hold still or open, ‘cuz I’d be breakin’ one of the rules, then and—“

The fingers on his neck pinch in just slightly. Maran cuts off in a gasp, his hips jerking against Benny’s stomach. He doesn’t share the demand (command, Maran’s steam-cooked brain offers) again, but somehow there authority of that absence is enough to make Maran’s mouth drop open.

He stretches his tongue out too, sort of out of expectation, but judging from Ben’s ragged groan he hadn’t expected it. He puts their mouths together for a kiss the same way he always does; hovering just slightly before that first press, waiting. He likes when Maran leans in for the last bit of distance, and Maran likes taking it up.

They kiss and kiss, standing in that mirror. Messy and vulgar until Maran’s lips and chin feel wet, his cheeks burning. They kiss until he figures normal people would get tired of kissing, but he feels like that’s impossible with Ben. Every time he thinks he knows what to do, what to anticipate, he’s surprised. Like now: Ben urges him to tilt his head back with nosing kisses up the center of his throat. His hand returns. Pauses — Maran touches two fingers to the center of his chest and grins. Benny groans…then squeezes a little and devours Maran’s mouth. His vision shakes gently at the edges, that edging black before he’s released and all the color jolts back in.

Maran moans, hands to get between their bodies and press over where he twitches in his pants. But if Ben keeps moving against him, thigh wedged between and fingers lovingly petting over the slope fo his shoulder, Maran won’t have a choice but to leave the bathroom hard.

Or— or Benny is going to make him—

Maran gulps, his brows pinching together. Ben must recognize something about the sound because they kiss again with plenty words of encouragement.

“Fuck. Were the chocolate chip waffles that good?” Ben teases, his pleasant, looping accent right to Maran’s ear.

“I’m going to…Ben, if you do that again, I might—“

“I know.” Benny says triumphantly. His fingers curl around Maran’s throat for a split second before falling away entirely. His hand flattens down Maran’s chest, fingers tucked into the waistline of his jeans.

“But I’m thinking of this one p-position and we kind of need the car if we’re going to get your legs—“

Maran yelps and twists away, slipping from between his arms to slap a hand over Ben’s swollen mouth. His facial hair is pleasantly rough beneath his fingertips, and Maran has his curse strike thrice— he shivers. Violently.

“You were just moaning like you were dying, and you think someone’s going to hear me say that?” Ben’s question is muffled beneath his hand.

“Shut up.” Maran hisses. He glances back at the door then at Ben. Sheepishly. Because he still wants. “I wasn’t being that loud. I wasn’t. I was just…”

“Begging for it. You taste like chocolate right now, Maran. I don’t know why but it kind of makes me want to fuck your mouth?”

“Okay!” Maran yells, his voice echoing off the tile walls. He rights his shirt and then Benny’s, who stands surprisingly still while all of him is fixed. Maran fusses and fusses, no doubt distracting himself so that the blush will fade before they leave. He isn’t, unlike Benny, around the obvious red mark under his left ear. Undeniably mouth-shaped.

“Actually I’m feeling kind of sleepy after all those carbs, yeah? Let’s skip the, uh, studying. Practice. We can just go right to the car, right? And go back to yours so fast? Like, so fast?”

On their way out, Maran doesn’t mention the total on the receipt. Ben’s math is never wrong, but the number on the tip line reads something closer to thirty percent.

#writing #ua #mgc #jlb #mgc x jlb #college au

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briamichellewrites · 2 years

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122

Rob felt the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. In a very thought-out email to the band, he officially announced he was gay. His announcement came after years of hating himself and obsessing over whether or not he was convincing anyone by acting straight. He developed anxiety and depression because he was so scared of coming out and being accepted for who he was. Until he told Mike. It was because of him, he helped him understand how his sexuality didn’t change who he was.

I don’t want to hide anymore because it’s not good for my mental health. I’m still learning how to be comfortable with myself and not let my anxiety take control of my life.

He received texts of congratulations from his band members! They loved him, no matter what. He was their little brother and always would be. Their support was overwhelming! He couldn’t thank them enough. Would he tell Brad about his crush? No, he was over it. Phoenix asked to meet any guys he dated, so they could make sure they were good for him. He had to laugh at that.

Thanks. You’re a pal! – Rob

His counselor encouraged him into finding a boyfriend. He didn’t necessarily have to be Jewish. That wasn’t a dealbreaker for him. Because he didn’t drink due to his religion, he didn’t want a boyfriend who was into the bar scene and went drinking every weekend. He didn’t have any preferences for what he looked like or how tall he was, though it would help if he was around his height. His boyfriend had to be able to be okay with his career.

His band came first. That meant being gone in the studio or on tour. He missed birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. His band was also his older brothers and best friends, so he also had to get along with them. He wasn’t in a hurry to find a boyfriend, though he wanted one eventually. Mike sent him a long text congratulating him for coming out.

Rob, in the past ten years I’ve known you, you have blown me away! It makes me proud and honored to be your brother. Even when you don’t feel like it, you are more than you think you are. One day you will find a guy and you will fall in love with him. I hope he treats you right because you deserve it. I love you and will always be here for you. Even if it’s the middle of the night and you’re having trouble with your anxiety or depression, I will be there. Call or text me anytime. – Mike

Mike had nothing but pride for him. Coming out was extremely scary. He felt like Rob could finally be at peace with himself and who he was. Because Elliot, Chester, and Brad were in rehab, he could finally relax. He slept like a baby after collapsing into bed. Phoenix texted him while he was asleep, so he replied to him. He replied he was just checking on him to see how he was doing.

I just woke up from a three-hour nap, so I’m feeling better than before! Lol. I kind of had a meltdown from stress and exhaustion when I found Brad drunk. He is in rehab. With that and Rob coming out, I feel like I can relax now for a few months. I am going to drive up and see Ellie for an afternoon, either tomorrow or the next day. Maybe I’ll join her for a therapy appointment or something. Just so she doesn’t think I abandoned her. – Mike

That sounded like a good idea. He was reminded to take care of himself, too. They didn’t want him to go back to the hospital. If he needed help or someone to talk to, just reach out. He promised he would. On the topic of Rob, Phoenix was so proud of him! It sounded like he had been having a lot of trouble.

Yeah, he had. They were all aware of his anxiety attacks and his self-esteem issues, but they had no idea he was fighting with himself. He was a private person and they respected that. It also made them overlook how much he was struggling. Had they known, they would have encouraged him to talk to a rabbi at his temple or another person of his faith. Maybe Elliot knew someone who was LGBT and could have helped him. Oh well. They couldn’t go back and change the past.

Elliot was having a good day. She was medicated regularly for her ADHD and anxiety. The nurse made sure she took the medications in front of her. Her brain chemicals were balancing out, due to being free from alcohol. She hugged him with a smile. Ellie! They then went over to the visiting center and sat down. How was she doing? She was awesome! What the hell happened?

She was five months sober. He congratulated her on that! She was also participating in the activities that the center offered. The other day, they went to a restaurant to practice being in the community. That was a lot of fun! She also got to spend time with the horses during her free time. How was that? It was terrifying at first because she forgot how big they were! Through helping take care of them, she learned how to trust them not to hurt her. She was sure one of them just had an attitude problem.

He laughed. Has she heard anything about her father? No, what happened? He was in rehab for his drinking. She didn’t know he had a drinking problem. Yeah, he did. He told her about finding him drunk and having him enter rehab.

“I don’t know how bad his drinking was but Anna confirmed he needed help. She was going to leave Shiloh with her parents and visit him for an afternoon.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I am. I was also helping Rob. Did you get his email?”

“No, I didn’t. What did he say?”

He went over everything he remembered. Good for him. He nodded. Yeah, they were all so proud of him. His anxiety was mostly from hiding who he was and being terrified of coming out. He was receiving help from a mental health counselor and he was doing a lot better than before. You should have him hang out with Jason.

“I didn’t think of that! Yeah, I’ll see if they want to do that. I was going to see if you knew anybody who was LGBT.”

“Not that I can think of right now. I’ll text you if I think of anyone.”

Her therapist told him that they had been working on her fear of abandonment, her PTSD symptoms, and how they affected her drinking. Was he her foster parent? Formally, yes. He co-parented with her father, so he was very much involved in her life for the past eight years and he thought of her like his daughter. Where was her father?

He was also in rehab for alcohol abuse. She was a lot different from when she first started. Instead of being scared and angry, she had a smile on her face. Going to rehab was just the beginning. She would have to work continuously on staying sober.

Did she have sober friends? Yes, Bradley and Chester. Her other friends drank but they weren’t alcoholics. They could keep her accountable for following her program. Mike asked who Bradley was. Bradley Cooper was a friend of her father’s. How many people did he know? A lot. She joked that was what happened when he was Brad Pitt. He laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

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stonesandswords · 2 years

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…

#god my dad has asked me two different times if i intended to hang out with my family over the holidays #despite me mentioned several times through text that I DID instead to join them #and also sending them links to several local traditions we used to do together to do this year #so i am not operating that they don’t want to spend the holiday with me (which is something my dad actually said loudly to me 2 years ago)#just confirmation again that they’re assholes and that i’m truly free to do what i want this year #i’ve said this to them time and time again for over 5 years now #if you want to do something with me PLAN IT #that’s the only reason my dad and i hung out today #because i put it into the calendar a month ago #but it’s not new #i’ve always said plain it or lose it #and now that they’re taking that as ‘you hate us’ ….#well you’re just stupid and you don’t pay attention #it’s actually YOU that hates ME based on your refusal to plan time with me #literally every single last one do them #🤷🤷🤷 i’ve done the holidays without y’all before #it was when i was in rehab sure but it was still much more peaceful than a regular holiday with y’all #so i don’t mind spending the time without y’all #personal

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One. I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then....

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left.

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact. You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues.

It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down.

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck.

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace.

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront. It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network.

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags. And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere.

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye.

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you. It just felt right.

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic.

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much.

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together.

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions.

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success.

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well.

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again.

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move.

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about.

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed.

Kevin.

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks. Chris was in a rage for a week.

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding.

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else.

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth.

Maybe you too could be friends.

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm. He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond. He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later.

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play.

-----

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him.

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris? This is Y/N. I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you.

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry. I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone. You just never believed that Chris would really move on. And you didn’t know why.

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries! Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed.

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot.

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him.

And that wink.

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed.

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off.

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology.

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging.

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin. You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped.

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option.

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend.

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics. His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy. Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered.

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance. Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set. Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over.

“What can I get you, Sir.”

“I don’t need a drink. I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party. I need it to be extra special.”

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see.

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.”

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin.

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be. You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills.

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking.

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN! WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.”

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban.

“Listen to me.. Listen. I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent. You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him. He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face. Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred. That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan. Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad. Chris was so sweet. You thought about him and you thought about Kevin.

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.” You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.

“Word?” You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand. The one you knew he jacked off with. You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm. Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again.

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.”

Then you snapped out of it.

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him.

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?” Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.”

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell.

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

You looked at Kevin, too. You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.”

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him. The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you. “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?” You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard. Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.”

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it. He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe. He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own. He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue. You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage. He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him. You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long. You pulled it out with a pop.

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X. He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more. His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.” You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City. He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.

“So you want me to feel you up?” He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you.

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass? Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game.

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too. It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult. He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down. Is it true?”

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand. Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris. Only you.. Since you and I….” Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again.

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly. He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!” Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted? You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh? You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?” He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.” Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him.

“Please!”

“I know why.”

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit. He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly.

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick. He didn’t have to move. Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him. He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?”

You searched his face. He sounded like he was about to cry. You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid. You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris. I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly. You on your knees for him again was a dream.

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you.

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you. It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought.

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give.

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet.

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you.

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done. You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.”

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor. He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know. None of that meant that we’re back together. That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?”

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own. You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.” You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove.

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees. He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body. He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you. He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

---

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.

“We’re going to Aruba?”

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching. That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.”

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower. You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight.

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one.

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street.

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

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missblissy · 3 years

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Hullo, I just discovered your content and man oh man, I am HERE for it. I was wondering if you could do something with Alastor fancying a new worker (who secretly fancies him as well) at the hotel that ALWAYS has headphones on, grinning, dancing and singing along to their tunes while they work. But, in honour of Freddie Mercury’s B-Day and MY favourite band, the new worker accidentally gets so lost in their singing and dancing that they inadvertently serenade Alastor with the song Radio Ga Ga. Thank you in advance. ☺️

((No problem Nonny~!! I had a lot of fun playing around with this one!! I'm sorry for the wait I know a lot of time as passed since then but I hope this makes up for it :'D ENJOY!!))

You had only started working at the... Happy? Happy Hotel? Yeah... Whatever, you had only been there for a week. Your job was simple, you were the hotel's private cook for its tenants. This place didn't feel like a hotel at all. You've worked at one before. It felt more like a sorry attempt at a rehab center. But that didn't really affect you at the end of your day. You simply just cooked food, and you were good at it.

The nicest part about your job was that you pretty much stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and left to yourself. You were the only cook they needed. You'd often wear headphones and sing to yourself as you'd work tirelessly over a meal. You would also dance while you cleaned, jamming out to whatever song came out of the shuffled playlist.

You were lost in doing a little dance and wiping down a counter. In fact, you were so lost in your task that you didn't notice someone come into the kitchen. Very rarely did this happen so you never really looked out for people coming in. That and... They were behind you.

With your headphones in you also couldn't hear them. And when the next song came on you just had to turn up the volume. Your heart filled with joy at hearing one of your favorite songs. You did a little sway of your hips and pretend a spatula was your microphone.

Some parts you hummed, but when it was time to sing... Oh... boy did you sing, "I'd sit alone and watch your light~! My only friend, through teenage nights!" You were still cleaning the counter as you ran the rag over its surface and wiped away the crumbs, "And everything, I had to know. I heard it on, my radio! You gave them all! Those old-time stars, through wars of worlds- invaded by Mars~"

You through the rag into a sink across the kitchen with ease, doing a little dance and still unaware of someone with big smile, watching the new cook sing away.

"You made 'em laugh, you made 'em cry. You made us feel like we could fly! So don't become, some background noise. A backdrop for, the girls and boys. Who just don't know, or just don't care. And just complain- when you're not there!" You still had your back to the doors as you walked around the counter and dramatically dragged your fingers. You gave a quick swish of your hips as you made it over to the sink.

"You had your time, you had the power~ You've yet to have your finest hour~Radio- radio. All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo~! Radio ga ga! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio blah blah-" You sang into your make microphone and raised a hand to the sky, you took on a the stance of the stars and sidestepped to your dance, "Radio, what's new? Radio- someone still loves you-" You did a little spin then screamed at the top of your lungs.

You dropped the spatula and nearly jumped out of your own skin. Who the hell was this!? How long was he here????? You tore out your headphones as your face began to burn.

"C-can I help you?" You had never seen him before...

The man standing before you had a loose and shallow grin on his face with his arms tucked neatly behind his back, "You have a lovely singing voice," He said to your surprise. He took a few steps towards you and went on to say, "I came by because I heard we had a new cook! I had been busy up until now so I hadn't the chance to stop by. I'm certainly glad I did now!" Eventually, he closed the distance between the two of you and held out a hand, "Alastor. A pleasure."

You stood there frozen for a few seconds. You hesitated then shook his hand, "(Y/n)... And... Thanks. I guess."

Alastor gave you a charming smile and asked, "So how is your cooking?" His red eyes bore into you, "I fancy the craft myself, so I am quite intrigued by your skill, if I may so ask."

Geeze he sure did talk like an old man. You looked around the kitchen then shrugged, "I was a private chef before I died. It's why Charlie hired me. I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Excellent!" Alastor beamed. He quickly took off his red tailor coat and threw it in some random direction. You were instantly met with a far different outfit. His red dress shirt was neatly tucked in pants, which were held up by thin black suspenders. You were most surprised as Alastor rolled up his sleeves. His gloves were not gloves at all, but a part of his skin. the deep dark colors bleed like veins up his arm before fading out

You found yourself oddly attracted to this man all of a sudden. Not because he wanted to cook with you, but because of you... didn't expect him to look that. Which happened to be very handsome without the raggy rundown tailcoat. You simply couldn't lie. He was slowly swooning you.

"W-what are we cooking?" You shyly asked.

But his enthusiasm still startled you. He had already grabbed a long knife, swung it in his hand then pointed the tip of the blade at you, "What is the dish that makes your memories come to life?"

That was kind of... how would you say it? Deep? Philosophical? Something like that. You managed to stand on the other side of the counter and grab a large spoon. You closed your eyes and thought, "Chicken and Dumpling Stew," You said as you felt a smile grow on your face as the memory came to you.

Your mother was a kind woman, and the biggest reason you became a cook. Warmth flooded your blood as the golden reminder of her cooking brought peace to your mind. You hadn't made that stew since you were alive, so something seemed even slightly more special than normal.

When you opened your eyes again, letting the memory fade away, you saw Alastor with a large smile on his face, "Well, let's get cooking then," He grinned at you, then even managed to give you a charming smile with a wink. It almost seemed like he was flirting if you didn't know any better.

You smiled at him, slightly flustered by how odd this man was but... also how nice he was trying to be. He wanted to cook with you, which honestly there was no greater way to spend time than cooking with the people you enjoy. Food brought people together, and you had an idea that Alastor saw it the same way. Which was true, he wanted to cook with you so he could get to know this new member of the staff, and perhaps he found you rather... intriguing as well too.

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