#not actually but it was pissing me off. staring angrily at my phone during my physics class lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trillian-anders · 5 years

Text

therapy

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, mental illness, eventual smut && SPOILERS

word count: 16k

description: part 4 of 5. SPOILERS; DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE FILM -- ransom’s therapy sessions during the assitant && four christmases and a little bit beyond.

note: so this took me forever and i was originally going to write couples therapy at the end, but it just didn’t flow as nicely. i’m probably only going to write one more part for this, but i hope you guys enjoy it. honestly. i’m writing this for you.

session #1

“Court mandated therapy,” He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “What a fucking joke.” He looked across the dining table at you, noticing how you were growing impatient. This whole situation, you moving in and encroaching on his bachelor pad, the house arrest, was fucking annoying. And now therapy. Your jaw twitched in annoyance, a tell tale sign he knew well.

“You’re getting off easy,” you would remind him, “I’m taking your punishment after all.” Taking his punishment, sure, and getting paid almost 210k a year to do it. There’s no sympathy there. You’re getting your money and his life goes on, almost, as normal.

To be fair he was pretty fond of you. You were the only consistent thing in his life for the past two years as much as he’d hate to admit it, nothing would get done if you weren’t around. Not a damn thing. He’d never tell you that though. Especially not now when you’re rearranging his unused study for use of him and the therapist who would be arriving soon, setting out water, a couple snacks, and optimistically tissues.

“Just in case.” You told him. Ransom doesn’t cry. He remembers the last time he really cried, like really cried and it was when he was a kid. His father had laid into him for playing with his novelty golf clubs. Screaming, red faced, spittle landed on his own hot cheeks.

He shook his head to rid himself of the memory.

“I don’t want to do this.” He sounded like a child, whining. He knew. But to be fair, he really didn’t want to fucking do this. He watched you walk away towards the kitchen to clean up what you’d made for lunch. You’d only lived with him for a week, but it was longer than any other woman had ever stayed with him.

It was strange.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he stared at your ass while you wiped down the counter, catching crumbs. You hated him, he knew. Not completely, which he also knew, but enough that you’d never fuck him. Why would you want to?

He couldn’t resist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you rinse the rag off in the sink. “You can tell them I’m sick, can’t come down.” Muffled into her shoulder. He really sounded like a child now, Mommy please make the bad guy go away, I don’t want to see him.

“This could be really good for you Ransom.” Her damp hands covering yours. “Go get changed, he’ll be here soon.” He was still in his gym clothes, sweat ring dried around his neck. He was sure he smelled pretty foul too, about thirty minutes later and a quick jerk in the shower left him a little more relaxed than before.

The man was older, bald, glasses. He looked like he just stepped off the screen typecast as a therapist in a psych ward. Tweed. So much tweed. He started a tape recorder, “My name is Henry Dowd.” You had greeted Dr. Dowd with a pleasant smile and shook his hand. Ransom had immediately felt a vein of envy, you’d never smiled at him like that. “I’m fifty-seven years old, I’ve been practicing for just about 25 years now—“

“Fantastic doc,” Ransom sunk back into his chair, “Listen, what do I have to pay you to make you go away?” The Doctor froze, adjusting his glasses before leaning back in his own chair.

“Do you often use money to eliminate things that make your life uncomfortable?” Of course he did. He immediately thought of you, sitting not more than twenty feet away probably unironically watching Forensic Files on the couch while folding his laundry.

“I don’t need therapy.” Ransom scoffed, “C’mon.” He smirked at the Doctor, “You don’t wanna make this drive every week just like I don’t wanna sit in this room and whine to you about my problems.”

“So are you admitting you have problems?” The Doctor asked, fingers meeting his chin.

Ransom didn’t like this guy. Fuck this guy. Ransom stared at him in silence for a minute.

“What’s your plan here Doc?” Legs spread wide, sunk in the armchair, Ransom mimicked studying the man just as he was studying Ransom.

“Hopefully we will discuss what in your life led you to murdering someone simply because you weren’t going to get you allowance anymore.” The Doctor was slick. He said it with an air of superiority.

Fuck this guy.

“You wanna know?” Ransom asked, sitting up and leaning forward in his seat. “You really wanna know why I murdered her [Fran]?”

The Doctor’s eyebrow raised.

“She didn’t tuck in the corners of my sheets how I like em.” Ransom smirked.

The Doctor hummed in response, taking a notepad and scribbling something down.

“What’re you writing?” Ransom tried to peer at the legal pad in the man’s lap. Dowd lifted it away from his gaze. “This is fucking pointless.”

“Whether you like it or not I’ll be with you for an hour every Thursday for the next 104 weeks.” Dowd smiled, “Whether you take this seriously or not is up to you, but I’m sure someone as intelligent as you knows that you will get as good as you give. The whole reason for me being here is because you have no money, isn’t that correct?” Ransom’s jaw clenched. “So I’m not going to take your bribe, but you can go ahead and try next week if you’d like. Maybe between now and then you can think of something to talk about.” Dowd packed his belongings, shoving the tape recorder in a side pocket of his bag and scribbling once more on his legal pad before storing that too.

“That’s it?” Ransom looked at the clock. It had only been twenty minutes. Dowd smiled at him.

“I’m going to give your babysitter out there some homework for you in preparation for a week from today.” Dowd went to leave the room, “Let her know I’ll take a tea next time.”

Ransom’s knuckles were white, fisted at his sides, he stood up from the chair a minute later, peeking out into the living room to watch you talk to the Doctor, a soft smile on your face. He wanted to hit him.

He wanted to hit him real fucking bad.

He watched you gently place a hand on the Doctor’s arm and guide him from the house. “We’ll see you next week!” The door shut and the smile fell from your face, turning to meet his eyes in the doorway of the study. You let out a heavy sigh and rubbed your temples.

“You can’t try and bribe a court mandated therapist Ransom!” There was a fire in your eyes, it made his cock twitch. He had a brief thought about biting your bottom lip, “He can actually help you!” You continued as you approached, walking by him to clean up the snacks and water that went untouched.

“I don’t need help.” He claimed. You gave him a disbelieving look.

“You need help.” He felt his neck flush with anger.

“Fuck you.” He watched as you walked away from him, not responding. “You need help. What kind of fucking person agrees to take someone’s house arrest huh?” He asked, following you into the kitchen. “You’ve got to have some kind of fucking issues doing something like that.” You’d slammed the tray on the counter, turning to look at him angrily. He was at half mast.

“Why don’t you go out Ransom?” You seethed, “Go have a drink.” He could feel his face heat up, he’s not going to let you win this.

“You know what?” He spat, “I think I will. I’m going to take my untethered ass out. Have fun sitting inside these four walls for the next two years you ungrateful bitch.” He could tell you were holding back, but he didn’t wait for the response, grabbing his coat and slamming the door on the way out.

Later that night, drunk and speech slurring he slammed the body of a girl against your door. Rutting his sloppy hips against her panty clad core.

He’s not going to let you sleep tonight.

You didn’t deserve to.

session #8

“We can sit here for the entire hour in silence, just like all the others,” Dowd started, “Or you can choose to talk today.” Ransom wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was still pissed that you’d taken his phone so he couldn’t sit here and stare at it like he had been for the last few weeks.

“He told me that you’re on your phone the entire time!” You had shouted, “It’s disrespectful.” He’d rolled his eyes heavily, “He’s gonna come back every week whether you do something or not.” You seemed brave. Your started putting your foot down more lately. Ransom wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he didn’t like it.

He was itching to do something else, anything else. The beginning of the manuscript that sat open on the desk behind him and he was pretty pissed he’d been disturbed right when he started chapter six. He found that if he was stopped in the middle of a chapter it was hard to get back into the flow of it, the words pouring from his mind out onto the computer screen faster than he could keep up with.

It was like being edged.

Ransom was into instant gratification.

He could hear an old clock he’d taken from his Grandfather’s study ticking on the bookshelf to his left.

“I see you’ve begun writing.” The Doctor offered, “Have you always thought about writing a novel?” Ransom’s jaw twitched.

“No.”

The Doctor gave him a forced smile. “Have you found it enjoyable so far?” This was a waste of time.

“Yes.”

Scribbling.

“What is your book about?” Ransom smirked.

“Murder.” The Doctor hummed,

“Following in your Grandfather's footsteps then?” Ransom studied the Doctor for a minute.

“What did your Grandfather do?” He asked the man. The Doctor tapped his pen against the armrest.

“He was a traveling salesman.” Dowd humored him. “Much more lucrative business before the internet and the home shopping network.”

“Didn’t know I’d be good at it.” Ransom admitted gruffly, “You wouldn’t be a good salesman.” Dowd gave him a real smile.

“I would be a terrible salesman.”

Silence for a few minutes more. The ticking of the clock driving an ice pick into Ransom’s brain.

“Do you think he would be proud of you?” Dowd asked. “Your Grandfather?”

Harlan wasn’t proud of anyone but himself.

Linda had built a real estate empire and he still wouldn’t give her the validation of knowing she’d done a good job. His last dying action was letting her know her husband was fucking someone else. What kind of father was that?

Harlan wouldn’t have cared if Ransom had begun writing before his death. He would have dismissed him. Not even competition.

Ransom scoffed at the man’s question, not answering.

“So he wouldn’t?” Ransom felt uncomfortable now. He watched the guy out the corner of his eye lift the tea cup you’d gently placed beside him before they began and raise it to his lips. Ransom had let his guard down. The guy was playing with him.

“His opinion doesn’t matter to me.” Ransom spat, eyes flickering over to the clock. They still had thirty minutes left.

“Seems like it does.” The Doc rubbed his fingers together, thinking. “What was Harlan Thrombey like?” Ransom sucked his teeth,

“Why? You a fan?” He laughed, his hand gestures to the bookshelf beside him. “I got a couple signed copies up there if you want one.”

The Doc shook his head, “He must have been pretty distant. I’ve heard writers tend to be.”

“You’re basing your analysis off of rumor?”

“Well, you’re a writer,” he smirked, “You’re plenty distant.” Ransom’s knuckles grew white at his sides,

“I’m not my Grandfather.” He said.

“No,” Dowd assured him, “You’re not. But we all bear the scars of our own upbringing in one way or another.” The timer went off.

“Time to go, doc.” Ransom stared at him as though daring him to continue, but he didn’t. He turned the tape recorder off and packed his bag as usual. Ransom didn’t raise to watch him leave, but he heard him through the open door thank you for the tea.

“We have a couple different kinds if you’d like something different next time.” He hated the sound of you being pleasant right now, especially to that man. The fucking prick.

“No, no. It was perfectly fine thank you.” The door shutting and the quiet ramble of the tv. Ransom shot from his seat, walking to the bar cart he’d had you set up in his room, he poured himself two fingers of whiskey and shot it back before pouring four.

He’d heard you clear your throat from the doorway, coming in to clean up the doctor’s empty teacup and his own untouched coffee. “How was your session?” You asked him.

He felt heat creep up his neck. “Get out.”

He could feel your eyes on his back, the rattling of the cups as you gathered them with one hand, your other coming to rest on the middle of his back.

“Ransom, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He slowly turned, taking a sip of his whiskey and grabbed your arm, the promise of never hurting you again that he’d made after his birthday dinner alerting him somewhere in the back of his mind.

He attentively grabbed your arm in a soft grip, “Get out.” Whether it was a plea or demand he didn’t know. He held direct eye contact, your face held a flash of fear. Somewhere he would feel guilty about this. He’d released your arm and watched you walk from the room, casting him one more glance before he none to gently slammed the door behind you.

Later that night he could swear he had alcohol poisoning. An angel had rolled him into his side as he’d vomited. She’d gotten him into bed, she’d even undressed him and was kind enough to leave a glass of water and two aspirin on his night stand.

It must have been a dream, because his study was spotless the next day and the bottle of whiskey he’d sworn he’d reached the bottom of sat full on his bar cart. He looked over to you for a moment, hand holding the cup of coffee you’d wordlessly prepared for him, before entering his study and shutting the door.

It was your job, why would he be surprised that you’d done it? And why should he thank you?

session #12

“Let's talk about something else today.” Dowd started, “You’re not giving me much headway for your family so let’s talk about something you love talking about.” He gave a playful smirk, “Yourself.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, cocking his head to the side looking at the Doctor across from him. The door had just shut and the prick was starting straight out the gate. It’s been four months and he hadn’t gotten anything out of this yet, other than being irritated and his monthly liquor consumption increasing exponentially. He’ll humor him.

“Why not?” Ransom shrugged, sinking into his seat, resting his ankle on his knee. “Whatcha got Doc?”

“What did you like to do before the trial?” He asked, “Give me a day in the life.” Ransom traced his bottom lip with his tongue before starting.

“I would wake up, go to the gym, come home, eat breakfast, watch some tv, go out with friends.” He shrugged. “The usual.”

“Do you still have contact with these friends?” No. He didn’t. He jaw locked.

“No.” The Doctor nodded.

“So where does Y/N come into this day?” Ransom shifted in his seat.

“She would work 9 am to 9 pm, Tuesday through Saturday.” He picked a piece of lint off of his pants.

“And what does she do for you?” What do you not do for him?

“Cook.” He stated. “Clean.” A smirk pulled across his lips, “Take out the trash.” By trash he meant whatever girl he brought home the night before a joke he loved but you hated,

“They’re real people with real feelings Ransom.” You would tell him.

“Does she do anything else?” Dowd asked.

Ransom thought about the house arrest bracelet on your ankle, “She’s my assistant, so she does whatever I need her to.” He shrugged.

“And how does she fit into your day?” Ransom shook his head,

“She’s just there.” He gently bit the inside of his cheek. “She’s always just there.” The Doctor scribbled something into his notepad.

“How long has she worked for you now?”

“A little over two years.” Ransom fingered the handle of his coffee mug before decidedly bringing it up to his lips, he woefully realized that he could go for some whiskey in it.

Next time, he assured himself. Next time.

“Does she provide some stability for you?” The coffee mug clanged heavily on the end table next to him.

“I’ve always had stability.” Lies.

The Doctor took a sip of his tea, “But surely having companionship on a daily, consistent, basis must give you some comfort seeing as you no longer have contact with your friends.” It was jab wasn’t it. The friends not being there anymore.

To be fair as soon as Ransom was arrested and the news of the will broke he's not surprisingly had no longer been invited out. His so called friends seemed to be surprisingly absent in his time of need, but he reasoned if it had been any of them in his situation he would have done the same. They all knew they were parasites sucking off of each other, he didn’t need them anyway. He’d found a new source.

“Why are you making a big deal out of it?” Ransom snapped. “She works for me, that’s that.” The Doctor shrugged,

“If that’s how you feel.” Ransom scoffed, shaking his head.

“It is.” It wasn’t.

The two of you had been living together for four months now. He’d seen you wet from the shower. He knew what your perfume smelled like, distinctively. He figured he could pick you out of a crowd by scent alone. Everything you cooked tasted better than any food he’d ever had in his entire life. Sometimes when you were in an especially good mood you made these cookies with caramel in the middle and he’d eat three straight from the oven. Tongue being burned by molten caramel be damned.

He found himself looking at you sometimes, like really looking at you. Your brows would pull in concentration as you read the pages he gave you. Watching how you always slowly clicked the pen cap, sometimes sticking the pen in your ponytail when you’d get up to go make yourself your second cup of coffee. You always had two. Every morning.

He found himself not knowing why it mattered so much. Why your opinion mattered so much. His novel was almost finished but he had the feeling if you didn’t like it he would throw it straight into the garbage. Himself with it.

There was something about it, the contact. You didn’t seem to mind so he began taking different liberties. It’d started with hugs. He cringed at the thought of him sitting in your living room when you still lived in that god awful apartment. The scent of the building a mix of different foods seeping through the walls that almost made him sick. He hadn’t known what possessed him to do it, but pulling you into his lap had been one of the most comforting moments of his life.

He was touch starved he’d supposed, but it didn’t make much sense. He got plenty of touch from whoever was spreading their thighs for him. He had scratches down his back to prove it. Something was just different.

He would feel almost high with his arms wrapped around you. God forbid there was skin to skin contact somewhere. He would get lost in it. Hugs turned into thighs pressed against one another on the couch. An arm slung over the back, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“Do you feel like you’ve always had stability?” The Doctor brought his attention back, Ransom blinked twice as if in a daze.

“Of course.” He shrugged, “I had routine before all of this. I did the same thing every day and while those things changed, I have a consistent routine now.” The Doctor scribbled.

“Have you always had a routine or is it something that’s developed over time?” Truth he told his routine formed the day you walked through his front door the first time. The constant schedule that you’d laid out for him, right up to you finishing the dishes and leaving at 9 pm on the dot. He would follow you out into his own car and leave for the evening. A bar, a club, a dinner party.

“Over time.” He’d answered. He looked at the door, as though he could look through it and see you sitting on the sofa playing a game on your tablet, whatever show you were bingeing playing in the background.

The Doctor hummed. The timer went off. The session was over.

Tikka Masala. That’s what you’d made for dinner. He’d been smelling it for the last hour sitting in the study still typing, two glasses of whiskey in. Not enough to be drunk but enough to feel it.

“Are you going to eat here, or the dining room?” His eyes met yours in the doorway, you looked so soft.

“Here.” He said, not having room for much else as you disappeared from the doorway, reappearing a minute later with a steaming bowl and placing it in front of him. You lay a hand on his shoulder, he found his head tilting to the side to rest against it almost instinctively.

“How’s it coming along?” You’d stopped asking him about the therapy sessions. He thinks he probably scared you the last time you asked but that was just fine with him. He didn’t want to talk about it.

Any of it.

“I’m gonna have another chapter for you to read in an hour or so.” He brought a steaming forkful to his lips.

“It’s hot.” But too late, in his mouth, trying to rapidly cool it like an idiot, but fuck if it wasn’t delicious. He saw you roll your eyes at him and he turned to watch you leave. He’d found a small joy in seeing your ass in yoga pants. A skirt. Jeans. Sweats. Whatever you’d decided to wear around the house. His dick stiffened at the thought of grabbing it.

But he was a little tipsy. And he was getting tired.

He just wanted to finish the fucking book already.

session #26

Ransom was not having a good day today. He’d stubbed his toe getting out of bed, his cursing woke up the redhead who was still tangled in his sheets. She tried to pull him back into bed which caused him to yell at her. So she cried and angrily threw her clothes on cursing him all the way out the door. He got to the gym and realized he’d forgotten his AirPods and had to do his workout without music. Then to top it all off someone had the audacity to have all of this happen on a Thursday. Fucking court-mandated therapy day.

He irritatingly wondered what color tweed Dr. Dowd would be wearing today. The fucking loser. His wife probably cucks him. He’s probably got a fucking micro. The lunatic.

Ransom was seething. He’d already snapped on you twice, but to be fair you’d made him eggs when he wasn’t in the mood for eggs and then you were really calm about making him oatmeal. Too fucking calm. What was your problem? Jaw locked as he paced his bedroom. He wasn’t coming down. He wasn’t doing a session. He didn’t fucking want to. And no one could make him.

He was wearing a hole in the carpet when you’d knocked. His anger flaring. Why couldn’t you just leave him alone? Why did you always have to be right there no matter where he went? He wretched the door open, “What?” He felt crazy. Maybe he was.

You were staring at him with what looked like vague fear in your eyes, arms wrapped around yourself defensively. “Dr. Dowd is downstairs.”

“I’m not coming down.” You sighed heavily, looking down the hall at the stairwell.

“Ransom you have-” Door slammed he stared at the other side of it.

“I don’t have to do shit.” He screamed, locking the door and sitting on the floor in front of it. He felt like a child. His anger while still bubbling in his chest, was slowly ebbing away to a simmer. He felt like an idiot. He heard your footsteps disappear down the hall. Now he was fighting with his pride. He lay back against the floor, two vertebrae cracking as he stretched it out, staring at the ceiling.

It was silent for a minute. Then two. Then three. His breaths evening out as he lay on the rug, he could almost imagine himself sinking into the rug, becoming part of the stitching. His body dissolving into nothing. Was this depression?

Ransom would swear he’s never been depressed a day in his life. He has everything he could ever want. Including his freedom. He’s always had nice clothes, nice cars, there was never a lack of sex or money. If he wanted something it was his. So why did he feel so shitty? Right now in this moment. He’s never stopped to think about it before he figures.

Never stopped or tried to feel anything.

And right now as he was imagining himself decomposing into the floor he reasoned it must be because of depression.

“A lot of people get depressed, Ransom.” You’d explained to him once, “There’s no shame in it.” He’d been having a bad day, but those days just happen. He had scoffed at you for even assuming he was depressed, but right now he thinks you’re probably right.

There’s something wrong with him.

His book had just been published and it was doing well. Selling really well. He made the bestseller list this week. So there was really no reason for him to be feeling like such garbage right now. It was the only logical explanation, being depressed.

At least then he had something to blame it on.

Another gentle knock, “Ransom.” You voice called to him, breaking him from his reverie. “Dr. Dowd would like to come up and talk to you, is that okay?” Your voice was various, a little guilt formed in his chest. His voice cracked when he replied,

“Yes.” His face felt hot and the room felt stuffy. You had kept the windows open with the nice weather you’d been having lately. Airing out the house, a candle always burning with a calming scent. Ransom regrets telling you not to open his windows. He wanted to open them, but found himself unable to move from the carpet.

“How are you feeling today Hugh?” The Doctor’s voice came from the other side of the door. Ransom heard your soft footsteps retreating, the third step down the stairs creaking as you made your descent. Ransom’s heart began to steadily raise in pace.

“Just great Doc,” He bit, “Can’t you tell?”

“Are you feeling the need to harm yourself or others?” He asked, suddenly very serious. Ransom thought for a moment. Who would he hurt? You? No. Definitely not. Himself? He’s too vain for that.

“No.” His voice cracked again, why does it keep doing that? “No harm to myself or others.” The other side of the door was quiet for a moment more before the Doctor spoke again,

“Are you comfortable right now?”

“Yes.” Laying on the floor felt great on his back truthfully.

“Emotionally.” What is that supposed to mean? The turmoil churning in his gut screamed at him. Playing dumb won’t help him here. “What happened today that you won’t meet me downstairs? You haven’t missed a session yet.”

Ransom shook his head wordlessly. He’d been fighting the Doctor. Every week, skating around questions, not answering them all together. He felt an urge to let it go. To just spill everything that was churning around in his gut. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Maybe a little.

“It’s just a bad day.” That was enough. It should be.

“What happened?” There was a creak on the other side of the door. A settling sound.

Ransom explained. His morning was just frustrating. One thing compounded on another causing his whole routine to be thrown off.

His routine.

“Is it possible that all of this frustration and anger have come out due to your routine being interrupted.” Yes.

“Probably.” Yes.

Silence, then the doctor spoke, “You can’t change the world around you, Hugh. You have no control. You will never have control.” Something was tight in Ransom’s chest. Fists clenched. “The only thing you can control is how you react to the world.” Hands relaxed, he felt his eyes prickle.

What the fuck is wrong with him? He shook his head. He felt out of control. He was completely out of control. He hated this. But maybe the Doc knew what he was talking about. Maybe this explains the disruption he’s felt. The anger that had ebbed away to a dull ache in his heart.

“Listen, Hugh.” The Doctor spoke kindly from the other side of the door, “Routine is good for you, it’s good for everyone. It’s beneficial for us to stick to our routines, however, if something happens that we can’t control it doesn’t mean the whole day is ruined.” The fan spun idly on the ceiling, Ransom dazed looking at the steady rotations as Dowd continued, “Get off the floor and move on.” His eyes dragged from the fan to stare at the door. “Get on with your day and try to do better next time because that’s all we can really do, try to do better.”

His hand met the knob and turned, shifting up to his feet as he met the sight of the older man on the other side who was leaning against the wall opposite the door. Ransom stared at him silently for a minute before opening his mouth to ask, “How?”

session #31

It was just there. Your wrist, open to him. And he wanted to kiss it, so he did. You’d stalled above him, hand still hovering where you’d just placed his cup of coffee next to him on his desk. He did it almost without thinking, gently wrapping his hand around your forearm and bringing your wrist to his lips, “Thank you.” He’d murmured, eyes not leaving the screen.

His second book has become much harder to write. He’d started three books. A couple chapters written for each, a path split. Where would he go? He was unsure. But the coffee you’d placed next to him that was made exactly how he likes it, it helped. A lot.

After the soft kiss placed on your wrist, the one that he’d not realized he’d even done until it was over, you’d gently rubbed his back for a moment before leaving, “Dowd will be here in about an hour if you need anything.” Your soft voice as you left. He’d wished you would have sat down for a bit, but he knows you have your own routine to follow.

“Describe your Mother to me.” Ransom scoffed, chest tight.

“Getting right to it.” He joked, Dowd smiled and nodded,

“We’ve been meeting for about eight months now and you’ve yet to talk about her.” Had it really been 8 months? Ransom’s palms suddenly felt very sweaty.

“She’s…” Ransom shrugged, eyes drifting to stare at something, anything else but meeting Dowd’s eyes. “She’s a Real estate Broker. She owns a company that is fairly successful. She’s recently divorced my Father for his infidelity—“

“Hugh, what about you?” Dowd asked, “How was she when you were a child?” Ransom hated this. He didn’t want to do it. Why did it matter?

“She was busy.” He said simply. “Always working, on the phone, both her and my Father.” Why did it matter? Dowd nodded, scribbling.

“Do you have some good memories of her?” Ransom didn’t. He knew his Mom loved him. He was her only child. There were pictures, her holding him when he was a baby, red faced and mucus covered in birth. His first birthday, she was sitting on the floor in the background, Ransom in the foreground standing, smiling with a ball in his pudgy baby hands. A picture of them in front of Niagara Falls when he was three. But none of that he can remember. Not really.

What he can remember is his first Nanny. A blonde named Samantha. She was young and sweet. She used to make him pancakes with blueberries in them. He wonders now if she left because of his prowling Father.

A different nanny, older had taken her place. He couldn’t remember her name but he could remember, vaguely, the crack of a ruler on his knuckles. His Mother had flipped her kid when she came home and seen them. Knuckles ripped open and clotted.

She’d given him a Nintendo 64 for that. It still sits upstairs in the bedroom you now occupied. He thought and he thought hard before replying, “No.”

He’d felt cheap. “Every good memory of her involves money in some way.” He stated plainly. The Doctor had told him instances of money bought happiness didn’t count. Ransom had always been rich of course, money as a substitute for the love of his Mother, Dowd explained. He wondered if his Mother paying you to take his house arrest was an apology for his parent’s quick divorce. As if he even cared.

“It’s okay to be hurt by her,” Dowd started, “She didn’t provide the love and affection a Mother should. Children need nurturing to form themselves as they mature into adults. The lack of nurturing in no doubt has affected you in some way.” Ransom felt uneasy. He didn’t like talking about this. But Dowd has told him time and time again, he’s not going to like talking about anything. Just try.

Ransom tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, looking at the empty coffee cup beside him.

“Do you think that maybe,” Dowd started, “You saw money as love and when that money was being taken from you then you realized that you’d have nothing left?” The Doctor rubbed his own chin. “Murder seemed like the only viable option?”

A chill ran down Ransom’s spine. A shake of the head. “I can’t do this today.” Dowd nodded.

“Okay,” he shifted in his seat, “What is Y/N making for dinner tonight?” This was how they had been cooling down. Every session since the one where Ransom has broken on the floor of his bedroom. A weekly distraction, bringing him back down from reaching his threshold. His hard limit. A little farther every week.

“I think she’s making—“ Ransom shrugged, “I mentioned wanting chicken parm, so that’s probably what she’s making.” That’s all he did. He would mention craving something and you would make it. The ingredients ordered through the local grocery store’s delivery app. You kept him happy and fed. His pants felt a little tighter around the waist recently. He’d have to work harder at the gym it seems.

Dowd nodded, “Sounds good.” He looked at the door that separated them from you. “She’s a sweet girl.” Ransom looked at the door as well,

“Yeah, she is.” The two sat in silence for a moment. The clock ticking. Ransom felt uncomfortable. Which wasn’t a new sensation in these conversations. He felt this sense of foreboding on Thursdays. Not that he didn’t when the sessions first started, but now that he’s actually talking in them acid was rolling in his gut on Wednesday night. The turmoil drowned in vodka sodas and a girl he thinks was named Bethany sucking his dick in the kitchen last night. His mind blissfully blank as she swallowed his cum. Her giggling mouth as her tangy lips met his.

His cock twitched at the thought, thinking about where he’s going to go tonight. Thinking about the girl he’d be bringing back here. The anger in your eyes tomorrow morning as you hand him his coffee after the gym, bitching about throwing the girl out and not so subtlety telling him that he’s an asshole. He really liked that. Your cheeks flushed. Eyes in a steady glare.

It’s what he deserved, he reasoned.

He wanted you to hate him. Because you should.

session #52

“Ransom.” Your gentle voice called to him, your back was facing him, chopping something by the stove.

“Yeah?” He called back, watching your arm move up and down, knife chopping steady against the butcher block cutting board.

“Something strange happened today, and,” You paused, huffing quietly. He watched your back tense, “There’s a letter on the table.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to open his mail. You sorted through it daily and it was something, frankly, he couldn’t be bothered with. He only wanted mail deemed important, didn’t care much for any Christmas cards or invitations to parties. Not that much came anymore.

The envelope sat ominous in the dining table. The top slit open in a straight line, white paper peeking from within. He picked it up, no return address. It reminded him of one thing and one thing only.

I know what you did.

He felt his neck grow hot, the chopping had stopped from behind him. What kind of joke was this? It had been a little over a year since his verdict. A little over a year since he…

He swallowed heavily, opening the letter, the bold black marker bleeding through the page.

You took her from us and you got away with it. You sick bastard. I hope you burn in hell.

And that was all of it. He carefully folded the paper back up, slipping it inside the envelope. The house was silent. No chopping. His hands braced on the back of the dining chair, he turns his head to look at you. You’re standing there in anticipation. For what?

Maybe he’ll scream. Shout. Bellow with anger so loud that the neighbor, closest one half a mile away, could hear him. Maybe he’ll break something. The four glass jugs that used to be five until he used one to commit arson. Maybe he’ll pull glasses out of the cabinets and shatter them on the ground by your feet. Maybe he’ll just collapse on the floor right here and cry.

For once in his entire pitiful life, a strange feeling brewed in his gut. A sick feeling he couldn’t place. Later on in the session, Dowd would tell him it’s guilt. But right now as he places the letter back down on the table, he walks to the downstairs bathroom and shuts the door before turning the sink on full blast and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

He grips the porcelain sides, coughing and sputtering. Eyes only watering from vomiting he’s sure as a choked sob echoes in the bowl. He spits, and spits again. Bare knees cold against the tile he stares at his vomit for a moment, before flushing the toilet and watching it disappear. The sick feeling is still there but he’s left with nothing but bile.

He stands, taking two stumbling steps to the sink and washing his face. Swishing around some mouthwash as he stares blankly at himself in the mirror. He knows another feeling. He knows this one. Disgust.

Self-loathing.

His knuckles gripping the sink and white. If he were any stronger it would have shattered under his grip.

He was in a state down with himself. Daring himself to move. Do anything. Move.

You pathetic piece of shit. You fucking baby. You really couldn’t do anything for yourself could you? So fucking scared and worthless that you had to try to fucking kill someone to keep some fucking money? And you were fucking stupid because you got caught. You were so fucking selfish because you killed her so you wouldn’t get caught.

You selfish bastard.

You worthless piece of shit. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this. You should be where she is now. Rotting in a fucking grave. Maggots feasting on your flesh.

You did this.

His reflection looked pale. He felt sick again but all he did was dry heave. This was the worst feeling he’d ever felt in his life and he didn’t know what to do.

A gentle knock on the door.

“Ransom,” Your soft voice, “I have some ginger ale, it’ll help your stomach.” He hadn’t been as quiet as he thought. He unlocked the door, stepping from the bathroom. Suddenly tired. The glass was gently handed to him and he took a small sip. Eyes not meeting yours.

“I need to lay down for a bit.” A mumbled sentence. You nodded. Gentle hands grasped his biceps, rubbing soothingly as his head found your shoulder. Arms wrapping around each other you both stood there for a moment. Not saying anything.

He didn’t deserve you.

He knows that now.

“Has the family tried to contact you before?” Dowd asked later on that day.

Ransom felt unwell. He hated this. “No.” He shrugged. He must have been a sight. Still in his gym shorts and sweat stained t shirt. He was sunk down into his chair, hand covering his mouth, eyes blankly staring at a spot somewhere in the room past Dowd.

“So why suddenly do you feel this way?” Dowd asked, “You’ve not brought it up the entire year we’ve been talking.” A year since he murdered Fran. A whole year.

“I just haven’t thought about it.” He said. Why would he want to think about it? Dowd hummed, scribbling on his legal pad.

“They’re never going to be okay,” Dowd started, “They lost a daughter, a sister. Someone they can never get back.” Ransom was sure that made sense, the loss of someone you love. But he didn’t love anyone. Only himself.

His heart panged.

He couldn’t reason at the time because if any of his family members died it wouldn’t make a difference.

“What if someone had done the same to Y/N.” Ransom’s heart stopped, eyes finally looking at the doctor’s. “If she was working for someone else and they murdered her to cover up a scheme that wasn’t even successful in the first place.” Ransom’s neck grew hot. His hand at his side clenched in a fist.

“I would be angry.” He reasoned. Dowd nodded.

“That’s what they’re feeling right now.” He explained. “They’re angry because you took her away from them.”

Ransom’s throat felt like it was closing up. What was he supposed to do. He couldn’t change anything. He couldn’t go back.

“It’s a good thing,” Dowd assured him, “That you’re feeling this way.” Ransom felt sick. “This guilt, the remorse you’re feeling. You’ve come a long way in the last year Hugh.” Tears pricked at the corners of Ransom’s eyes. He willed them to stay put. “You can’t change what you’ve done. You’ve murdered someone, you took a life, for what was no reason. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your days, but you can try to do something for them. Anything. Nothing will ever make up for it, but you can try.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to go to bed. He wanted to sink into his sheets and disappear. Maybe he could convince you to leave him there until he just wasted away. That sounds nice right now.

It was for no reason. Fran’s death. He could have just paid her off and gotten rid of her. There was no real proof that he’d done anything. The toxicology reports came back clean. His little switching of the bottle trick did nothing. Harlan skit his own throat.

Marta deserved the money.

He saw that now. And it didn’t matter if he’d been cut off or not because now he had his own money and his bank account was acquiring more every day.

So what was it all for?

It seemed so important at the time. He needed to do this. He had to. He needed the money. More than anything in the world. He was so focused on the one object before him. Tunnel vision. He didn’t see the details around the edges.

He couldn’t see the big picture.

What a selfish baby. A fucking coward.

This self loathing was all consuming.

He hadn’t left his bed in two days since the session. Since the letter. He knows you’re concerned. You check on him every once in a while. You trade out his picked at food and bring him fresh glasses of water. You’ve rubbed his back a couple times until he’s shrugged you off.

“Leave me alone.” Biting. He doesn’t mean it but he couldn’t stop it from coming out.

He was angry. Depressed. He didn’t know what to do. What can you possibly do?

It was snowing. The chill permeating from the glass. Contemporary floor to ceiling windows meant cold. It was falling in thick sheets, almost a foot overnight. And he was just staring at it fall. He’d been staring at it fall all night.

A clinking of a tray. The gentle click of the door closing, you rounded the bed, placing down a cup of coffee and some toast, removing the dishes from the end table.

“Ransom.” You whispered, brushing his greasy hair off his forehead. “You’re gonna finish this coffee, eat this toast, and take a shower before you come downstairs.” Your tone was authoritative. “You smell like shit.”

You sat there for a moment longer. He could feel you staring at him. He parted his chapped lips, “I killed her.” A whisper in a quiet room. His eyes red and blankly watching the snow fall. Voice raspy. “For nothing.”

“Yeah,” Your voice soft and sad, “You did.”

He wrote a letter. Put in a clause on the contract of his next book. Nothing would make it right, but he apologized. And Fran’s family was going to get a percentage of royalties from here on out.

He still felt sick.

session #67

He doesn’t remember what it feels like not to be hungover. The self loathing was drowned out with alcohol. It was the only thing he knew to do. The bottom of a bottle felt very comforting until the next morning when his sticky eyes couldn’t pry themselves open. The sick rolling in his stomach as he untangled himself from the mess of limbs. A sweat slick body in his sheets. A girl he couldn’t recognize. Sleepy, stumbling, hand coming down to unstick his balls from his thigh as he found the light switch.

Wincing and collapsing in front of the toilet to empty his stomach. Dizzy with it. Head spinning. He blindly reached for the clean blue towels you had placed next to the sink. Wiping his mouth and pulling himself up to brush his teeth, drinking water bent over, slurping loudly from the tap. There was a gentle relief to his body, like finally some water.

He shuffled back into the room, not casting a passing glance at the woman still asleep in his bed and he dressed to leave. He’ll go sweat this out in the sauna and she’ll be removed by the time he gets back.

He didn’t deserve you.

You should just leave.

He wants you to leave. He wants to be alone. Forever. It’s why he tries to make your job as hard as he possibly can. Never ending guilt churning in his stomach. The sickness sweats out in the sauna and when he pulls back up to the house the only car that sits in the driveway is yours, unused.

You’re humming when he enters the house and his cock twitches at the sight. It had just begun getting warmer outside. You’d ditched your cozy cardigans and wool socks for sundresses and tank tops. The appreciation shows. He adjusts himself in his shorts as he passes you, the knowing hand wordlessly giving him a cup of coffee made exactly how he likes it. He appreciates you. The comfort he’d not felt with anyone else.

He had a roommate in college.

A guy he had been friends with up until the trial. Another rich boy. Just like him. His name was Jeremy.

Ransom hated living with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy, he just liked his own space. Heading off to college he thought his parents would splurge for a private apartment. He remembered being so angry when the three of them arrived and he found out that they booked him on campus housing with another fucking kid. Furious. He didn’t talk to his parents for the first half of the semester. Not until they withheld his money and forced him to contact them.

This was intimacy.

He’d read that in a book. Dowd had recommended some to him. At first he’d scoffed about ‘self-help’ books, but Dowd convinced him that he’s the only person that could really help himself in the end. It didn’t help that Dowd had handed you the list and you’d bought all of them. You’d been reading them too. A quiet understanding that Ransom’s pride was still fragile and neither of you would talk about what you’d read, but just knowing that you’ve both read the same words. You’ve learned the same things.

Whether you put them into practice or not was another story.

But he knew this was intimacy.

It didn’t have to be romantic intimacy. There was a familiar soft intimacy. Just from knowing each other. Truth be told you were the longest relationship he’d ever had. Even if it was just a boss/employee… but sort of friend relationship. You knew him. You really knew him. More than even his own parents. You knew when he wanted to be touched and when he wanted to be left alone. You knew his routine and every variation of it. You knew what he liked to eat. You anticipated each and every one of his needs.

And he didn’t deserve it.

You were too good for him.

That was in all of his thoughts.

Every time you handed him a cup of coffee. Even a second cup when mentally he had been debating having a second. You’d bake cookies or brownies or these cinnamon buns just when his sweet tooth was really kicking in. You knew every craving. He swears you could even sense when he was getting sick. An extra order of tissues, ginger ale, and cough drops delivered to the house a day before he’d even started coughing.

He should treat you better.

That’s what he thinks while he fucks his fist in the shower. Hand slapped against the tile, soft groans as he thrusts his hips into his soaped up hand, thinking about how all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink.

He imagines it, your perfect ass, panties pulled to the side.

As he cums he can’t help but feel the emptiness he feels every night. The vacancy of emotion that leaves his mind void and desolate.

He writes three chapters that day.

“How do you feel about medication?” Dowd asks. The room is quiet. It’s been very quiet this session, Ransom wasn’t feeling very talkative lately.

“I’m not fucking crazy.” He scoffed. Dowd shook his head,

“No, but you’re depressed.” Dowd explained. “Medication will help with your moods, make you more level.” Ransom nodded, sighing heavily. “The guilt may never go away Hugh, you have to learn to live with it. You’ve taken responsibility for your actions.” Ransom rolled his eyes, partially.

“There’s more work to do.” The Doctor explained. “It’s not going to miraculously fix itself overnight, but medication will at least make it a little easier to go throughout your day. Might help you rely less heavily on drinking too.” He knew. Of course he knew. Ransom wondered if Dowd could smell the alcohol still in his sweat. Did he know Ransom popped four ibuprofen right before the session? Did he know that he washed it down by taking a pull of whiskey straight from the bottle?

You knew.

But did Dowd?

“I’m proud of you.” That caused Ransom to look up from his own lap to look at the old man sitting across from him. “You’ve come a long way since we first started.” Ransom shook his head.

“I feel worse.”

“Yeah, but you’ve made a breakthrough.” He explained, “The guilt, remorse, you’re feeling is a good thing. Even if you hate it.”

“It doesn’t feel like a good thing.” Ransom whispered. He picked at the sweats he was wearing.

“It’s not going to,” Dowd assured him, “Not for a while, but the fact that you even feel guilty means you’ve come a long way from being the self-centered narcissist you were when we met.” Ransom chuckled,

“I’m still a narcissist.”

The Doc started him on an antidepressant and a mood stabilizer. The two pills waited for him with his morning coffee from that day forward.

session #74

“You look like you’re having a good day.” Dowd smiled. Ransom was having a good day. He hadn’t drank a lot last night, had pretty descent sex with a pretty red head twice, you’d made him his favorite breakfast and had baked those really good caramel cookies he loved. You were in a good mood, so he was in a good mood.

His mind drifts back to you singing softly as you pulled the cookies from the oven, he was trying to be nonchalant standing off to the side, stealing a cookie as you set the baking sheet on top of the stove, ripping it open, molten caramel burning the tips of his fingers as he shoved the sweet morsel into his mouth. Tongue scorched but worth it.

The quiet hum as you rinse the bowl of cookie dough, his fingers finding your waist, pulling you against his chest as the soft rambling of music played in the background. The two of you rocked from side to side. The endorphins of skin to skin. The chemicals that flood his system giving him comfort.

He didn’t deserve it, but he wanted it.

He wanted it so badly.

So he just took it. Your soft hands covering his as some acoustic version of a pop song played over the wireless speaker in the kitchen. Cheek pressed to yours, ever aware of your ass nestled softly against his hips. Innocently. So innocently.

The light was soft through the windows and Ransom tried desperately to commit this to memory. The way it shines through your hair, the way it makes your skin glow. Your hands are so soft. So soft. He could almost taste it on his lips. Your skin.

“Thank you for the cookies baby.” A whisper. You allowed it, him calling you baby. A soft sweet pet name for someone he didn’t deserve.

“You’re welcome.” He had brought the plate of them in here, in the session.

“I’m doing alright,” He breathes, breaking another cookie open, letting the strings of caramel wrap around each other as he shoved half a cookie in his mouth. “The meds are finally working, so…” He shrugs, “I’m not feeling quite as down.” There were still bad days, but this wasn’t one of them.

“Can we talk about something hard today then?” The Doctor asked, “Is that okay?” Ransom was apprehensive. But… what could it hurt? Only himself. And he still deserved to be hurt so,

“Sure.” A sip of coffee and he settled back into his chair, resting his right ankle resting on his knee.

“I want to talk to you about your family.” He thought of Harlan with his throat slit and a Mother who contacts him once a month. The last time she called him it lasted, according to his phone records, two minutes and forty-four seconds. A ‘how are you?--good, good--is y/n taking care of you--good,good--gotta go. Bye-bye.’ She resented him and Ransom knew that. She’d told him once, drunk of chardonnay that she never wanted to be a Mother.

It shows.

His Father was just as dismissive.

He thinks about the money clip. One that he was gifted when he turned 18 was a match to his father’s. He waved it around plenty of times. Ransom thinks back to the first Christmas you’d spent with his family. The fear, tears in your eyes as you stood there dumbly holding his registration information for the police who didn’t care after he’d slipped them a couple of Benjamin's each and they were on their way. The wad he had handed you from his own money clip silently begging you not to leave him, hoping you’ll return after your long weekend.

Please don’t leave me.

He didn’t say that, but that’s what he meant.

“I don’t know how real people act.” He says, eyes not meeting the Doctor’s. “The whole family…” Harlan, Will, his parents. “None of them are real people,” Shaking his head.

“Is Y/N real?” Dowd asks. Ransom nods, looking down at the cookies. A whisper against his ear. Comfort.

“Yes.” He says. “She is.”

“Have you learned anything from her in the past… how long have you known each other now?”

“Close to three years now.” Ransom smiled softly, really smiled, “The first year she worked for my Grandfather as a tutor for my cousin, Meg. The past two she’s worked for me.” He thinks about your apartment. The one you lived in with your sister.

He’d only been there once.

It felt more like a home and he thinks about how you and your sister acted together. You truly loved one another. The little bickering laced with affection. No fight was ever a real one. Not even when you were yelling at her over the phone, defending him for no real reason. He never understood why someone would say a house is not always a home until he stepped into that apartment.

Yes, it smelled like the curry your neighbor was cooking and yes, it was for lack of a better word crowded. You would say it’s cozy. The furniture worn and much more comfortable than any he’d ever sat in. The way the two of you just steadily accepted him moodily sitting in the corner, in a chair, as their night went on. Even if your sister kind of hated him.

You were kind. You were forgiving. You were welcoming. And you’d taught your sister to be that way too. Even if she was a teenager and hated everyone and everything. To be fair he deserved to be hated and he was confused, but grateful that you didn’t hate him yourself. You said you did, but he knows you didn’t mean it. Not really.

You treated him like he mattered. You believed in him and supported him when he had the idea to write his novel. You picked him up off the ground when he was too drunk to walk. You gave him a shoulder to lean on when he needed a place to lay his head.

You were compassionate.

“I don’t deserve anything she does for me.” Ransom whispered into the quiet study. He shook his head, “She’s going to leave me as soon as the house arrest is over.” Dowd shook his head,

“You’ve done something that is irreversibly wrong.” He stated, “You can never take it back,” Ransom felt the guilt pooling into his stomach. A rain cloud over a sunny day, “The only thing you can do is try every day to do a little better. Put something good into the world. Create something good.”

“Be better.” The Doctor nodded.

“Be better.”

session #86

He was trying. Really trying. A stipend from his books goes to Fran’s family. A monthly donation to Planned Parenthood and another towards a local domestic violence nonprofit. It soothed his soul somewhat, but still didn’t feel like enough. He started looking at houses. For you.

You deserved it. When you left him. When you went back to your normal life. The normal routine. When he was left in his empty house, alone again. Like he wanted. Like he deserved. He was meeting a realtor for lunch tomorrow, but his hobby lately has been browsing house sites looking for a house for you.

Some were too big, some too small. Some too modern, some too old.

Nothing really fit you. Not really.

“Ransom,” You called from the living room, “Are you hungry?”

A few clicks and his computer screen was back on a word document. You poked your head into the study a minute later, a sandwich, cheese toasted on the bread, melted ham and swiss. A sliced apple and the sweet grapes you’d been craving that he had brought home yesterday and two little cinnamon sugar dusted cookies. A glass of water.

“Yeah,” He smiled. You placed the dish next to him, peering over his shoulder at the words typed on the page. “Thank you.” Always thank you, always please. Please love me, please care about me, please, please, I’m trying to be a good person. Please see that. A kiss to your wrist, arms wrapped around his shoulders, chin resting there.

“How’s it going?” You ask. He rubs the bare skin of your arm with his thumb, sighing,

“It’s getting there.” He typed a few more words, flipping through two different word documents. “I’m not sure which story I want to work on, I’m kind of stuck here.” He felt you nod, silently scanning the open page before you before laying a hand over his on the mouse and clicking over to the other one.

“You’re a little farther on this one I think.” It was a story about a situation similar to his own, yet very different. A woman in it that may or may not be referenced heavily by the woman beside him. By you. Who's to say? All likeness to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

“Do you like this one?” He asked. You had to. Your opinion matters the most. Say the word and he’ll delete the whole thing right now. He felt pathetic. What kind of man was he? Definitely not his father, never his father.

“I do,” He could feel your grin, “You should finish this one next.” He didn’t know what to do with you. Half of him knew you would never love him, not the way he wanted you to. Those girls he buried himself in every night were proof of that. He started imagining they were you, lusty and breathless.

He could never do that to you. Ruin yourself with him. He just couldn’t.

“Thank you for lunch.” Another kiss to your wrist.

“You already said that,” You laughed, melodic. His heart skipped. “Don’t forget you have therapy later.” How could he?

“I won’t.” A bite into his sandwich and he was back looking at houses. Maybe he could find a fixer upper. Dowd said he needed a hobby, right?

“What’s on your mind today Hugh?” Dowd was in a good mood. Not that he wasn’t always in a good mood, but today he was in a very good mood. He showed up to the session and very unprofessionally showed you pictures of his newborn grandchild. A little rosy cheeked, baby girl named Ellie. Ransom admired how your eyes softened and lips pulled into a bright smile. He wished you would smile at him like that.

“I’m gonna buy a house.” Giddy almost. “Fix it up.” He nods, “My hobby right? Work with my hands.” Dowd looked at him skeptically.

“That’s a lot of work,” He laughed, “Have you ever lifted a hammer?” Ransom shrugged.

“Can’t be that hard.” It would be… very hard. But he’ll find that out later. “Lots of people do it, right?” Dowd gave a weird grin.

“Yeah but most of them have had some prior teaching or are professionals.” Ransom’s mouth opened and then closed again, eyes squinting as he thought. Surely he could do it, right? He had to.

It was penance.

“I’ll figure something out.” Ransom took a sip of coffee, “I’ve been journalling a bit.” He said, pulling a leather moleskine from the seat cushion. He’s learning to deal with the guilt. The regret. He gets emails about how his contributions have been saving lives, women who need free healthcare, domestic violence victims that have been rehoused thanks to his donations. It doesn’t make it better, he reasons, the murder.

But it’s penance.

“Are you almost done?” Dowd asked, “With the second book?” The first book he’d published he had given Dowd a signed copy, he would willingly give him a signed copy of the second one too.

“Yeah, just about.” He sighed, “A few more chapters.” Dowd nodded.

“Do you want to talk about the self-loathing you’ve been feeling?” Dowd was perceptive. Ransom knew this, but the question still blindsided him. He wonders if you’ve mentioned anything to the Doctor while scrolling through the 200 pictures and cooing over the newborn in a hundred different outfits. Ransom knows you’ve seen it too. You’re perceptive too.

“Not really.” Ransom answered honestly. It made Dowd laugh, “I know you say I have to learn to live with it, I have to live with the guilt for murdering Fran, but I don’t know…” He stared at the Doctor, eyes betraying the sadness he felt in his soul. The despair. “How does anyone live like this? How does anyone live after they’ve murdered someone?” The last question was a whisper, eyes glazing over and staring at the floor.

He should have just gone to jail. He should have been in jail for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t. He didn’t. He’s not. He’s here. Double jeopardy. He could write a book right now on how he killed Fran, how he set up Marta, how he pushed his Grandfather to suicide and you know what would happen? Nothing.

You can’t be tried for a crime you were acquitted from. The jury found him not guilty. Only six people really knew the whole truth. The three detectives, Marta, himself, and you. The three detectives didn’t matter anymore.

Marta didn’t matter anymore.

He didn’t matter anymore.

You never brought it up. The murder. Not unless he brought it up first. It was a hard limit. A line not crossed. You had to forgive him. You just had to. Didn’t you already? Did you hate him? Were you secretly seething with the fact that you had that house arrest bracelet on? Were you really only here for the money?

He wouldn’t be able to take it, he doesn’t think.

Maybe he’ll become a recluse.

Everything is digital now, ordering groceries, maybe he’ll just get a maid to clean up once a week. You can go, take your money and leave him. It’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He will survive.

It’s his penance.

He watched you make dinner, Dowd’s words ringing in his ears, bouncing from one to the other, “You can’t hate yourself forever for this, nothing you can do will make it right, you’ve become a better person. An empathetic person, just be better. Every day, try and do better.” He thinks you’re beautiful.

You’d asked him what he wanted to eat and always was his reply of whatever he’d been craving that day, but tonight he said, “Whatever you feel like eating.” So he didn’t know, but it smelled amazing. He’d eat garbage if you put it in front of him. Whatever it was, it was delicious. Some kind of soup. A couple of heated rolls straight from the oven and a green salad, drizzled with a vinaigrette you’d seemed nervous about.

“I found it on Pinterest.” You had explained, “If you don’t like it--” It was delicious. Everything you made him was delicious. He didn’t care.

“It’s good.” He said. He meant it. He wondered now, with less than five months left of his sentence, how soon after it was over would you leave him? And would you never want to see him again? Because he doesn’t know if he could handle it. He needs you.

He really fucking needs you.

session #95

The girl came back. The one you had kicked out of his bed while he was gone. He told you he was at the gym, but what he was really doing was checking on the work done on the beautiful dark cherry wood Victorian with wrap around porch he’d recently purchased. He couldn’t fix it up on his own, that was the truth. Dowd was right, but he was working with a contractor and small crew.

One day a week he would go over there and help them rip out cabinets or tear down walls. Not too many because the house, he reasoned seemed more like something you would like if it wasn’t completely open concept.

He’d sat there, in the early morning light, watching the sun come through the windows. Dust filtered through the air from where they had sanded the floors, refinishing them. They’ll lay down the stain and seal them today. The windows caught the light perfectly. The sun rose and set over this house beautifully, glowing with natural light. You were going to love it.

He was sure of it.

A shout, stumbling in the gravel of the driveway, “FUCK YOU RANSOM.” A laugh drowned in his coffee.

“What’s on the agenda today Ransom,” He watched you shut the door, irritated with him, “Because if I have to do that again tomorrow I’ll quit.” Lies.

You couldn’t quit.

Not for another nine weeks.

“Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got a deadline to meet.” It’s true. He did. Four more chapters and the book was done. He coffee mug in your hand. An emptiness in his heart with the realization of you leaving. Nine weeks. And you’re gone.

He threw himself into it. He was going to finish it this week. The frustration he felt, he just wanted to be done with this book. He was over it, but he was so close to finishing. Doesn’t mean he’s not still a liar.

He needed a fucking break. His head was pounding and you’d come in the office in thin worn out black leggings. When you bent over to pick up the pillow that fell on the floor, he could see the thong you were wearing. His dick was hard.

A promise, “I’ll kick her out myself.” And he was gone.

The girl he brought home, she looked a bit like you. Enough like you when she rubbed her ass against his lap that he’d drug her home. Her lips were attached to his neck. He could imagine her as you. Faintly. Almost.

He felt passive aggressive. He was sort of taking out the anger of not being able to have you on you, not realizing, or not caring? His back met your bedroom door, the girl moaning enthusiastically as her lips trailed down his chest, button down splayed open. Belt clinking and his dick was in her mouth.

Fuck. Head hitting the door. He whispered your name in his head.

He wanted you so bad.

He wanted you so fucking bad.

He pulled the girl off him by her hair. He was going to cum too soon if he thought about it. He could do this.

As he lost himself in her body, bed rocking, hips swinging in a punishing rhythm, the girl’s loud moans drowned out the whisper of your name on his lips.

You were a sight. Sleepy, red marked paper in front of you. You’d found the chapter’s he’d finished just hours before. The ones he had forgotten to give to you. Your hair was messy and your cozy sweater had fallen from your shoulder. He wanted to press a kiss to the exposed skin, but obviously he couldn’t.

“What do you think?” He asked. He watched you jump in your seat, hand pressed quickly to your chest.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You laughed nervously, “It’s good,” You cleared your throat, “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for you to finish to be honest.”

“Let me see.” The packet was scribbled over.

I think he did it, he’s an asshole.

I don’t like her either.

Ew, why would anyone ever say that to anyone else?

Add more detail here, I can’t picture it well enough.

“What are you doing out of bed?” You asked, you rolled the chair side to side. It was cute. Endearing.

“I told you I was going to kick her out.” She wasn’t happy about it. She tried to get him to go another round, but he felt empty. He didn’t want to. You were waiting downstairs after all.

“And you couldn’t start doing this sooner?” He smiled, he liked that you hated it. It maybe made him think you could be jealous. In some universe. Maybe not this one.

“I like how much it bothers you,” He answers honestly.

“It’s annoying,” you snarked back quickly, “Worst way to start my day.” You were being funny.

“That’s the only reason?” Ransom responds, he leant back in his chair, throwing the packet onto the desk. Please say you want to be with me. Give me permission here.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You scoffed, angry with him. Clearly. You made to walk by him, to leave the room. He reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you, softly.

“If you want to take their place, just let me know.” A wink, a playful slap on his shoulder and you were gone.

“Dick.” Reverberated in the office. A playful laugh.

Therapy today.

He hadn’t slept a whole lot, four hours total. He was tired. And grumpy.

“She loves you, you know that right?” Dowd said halfway through the session. Ransom was deep in his self-loathing today. Probably from the lack of sleep.

Definitely not because each day got closer and closer to you leaving him. Definitely not that.

He shook his head, “She works for me, she gets paid to be nice to me.” Dowd frowned.

“You can’t really believe that Hugh.” Ransom shook his head,

“I don’t deserve her.”

“Men don’t deserve women,” Dowd said, “Period.” He laughs, straightening his tie. “My wife, we’ve been married for thirty years now and I can’t honestly remember life without her in it. She worked to help me get through school and now with my practice I’ve been able to let her do whatever heart desires.” He was smiling fondly, thinking about it. “She’s given me three beautiful daughters, we have a beautiful granddaughter now. A beautiful home, she can’t cook to save her life, but that’s what I’m for… she’s the love of my life, truly.” Ransom looked at the grey old man across from him, the Doctor’s eyes were misty. “She helps me run my practice.” He says, “I would be lost without her and I will work hard to even be close to the man she deserves.”

“It’s just not meant for me Doc.” Ransom swallowed heavily. “It’s not.”

He needed to get out of this fucking house. He couldn’t look at you. He got rid of Dowd. A little harshly. He felt bad about it. You looked up at him from the couch.

“I’m going out.”

Was this love? Yes. He knew he loved you. He’s no a fucking idiot. But you were too good for him. Who forgives a murderer? Who? Why did you have to be like that? So fucking perfect.

You were. So fucking perfect. This house he was fixing for you, the car he was going to buy you after the next book. You deserved all of it.

You and your sister will be taken care of. You’ll never want for anything. You were talking about going back to school maybe, once it’s over. You could do that. He’d do anything for you if you’d ask. He’d pay for all of it. Anything. It’s yours.

How does he resolve this? He doesn’t know.

The donuts, the latte, and his mouth between your thighs a day later. He doesn’t know how to be a good man, but he’s going to fucking try, and try until he gets it right. Until he makes everything right. For the both of you.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.” You’re so receptive beneath him. He loves you so much. The only person he’s ever felt this intense affection for. Not even his own parents he’s loved.

He buries himself between your thighs twice that morning. Panting into your mouth the first time, into your neck the second as he rocks his hips into your tight wet heat from behind. Ass nestled against his hips how he’s always dreamed, teeth biting into his thumb as the two of you lay on your sides.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered against your neck. His heart racing from his recent orgasm. “I’m sorry.”

session #104

This was it. The last day. Ransom noticed your ankle looked pale, empty now that the bracelet was gone. He would have to fix that. “What am I gonna do now that the dumb bracelet isn’t taking out my ankle anymore?” He whispered into your ear. The damn think had knocked against his ankle bone multiple times in sleep or during sex, enough to make him wince and comment on it multiple times.

Your laugh was melodic to his ears. It was just the two of you now. His Mother stopped by with the same man who had placed the damn ankle monitor on you two years prior to remove it. She made a big show about staying for breakfast.

“So I’m assuming she’ll be moved out by dinner,” She had laughed, “She’s probably sick of you.” Ransom felt a little hurt by that, but his Mother also didn’t know the two of you were now together and ‘moved out by dinner’ was actually going to be him taking you and your sister to dinner and then to your new house that was just finished this morning.

The two of you shared a look and agreed not to say anything.

He dried the dishes as you washed. This oddly domestic moment giving him true belief that maybe this could work. He could have it. He could have what other people have and be okay.

“I love you too.” You’d whispered into his mouth last night. You hadn’t said it back yet, it was the first time. Hands tangled in his hair as you angled his face down. “Please don’t hurt me.” He could never, would never. Not if he could help it.

He brushed his hip against yours as the soft crooning melody played in the background. After the therapy session today the two of you were going to go pick your sister up early from school and drive down to the harbor. He wanted to take you both to dinner. Somewhere you’d wanted to eat for the past two years. A little hole in the wall Spanish place that had ‘the best ceviche and sopas you’ll ever have’ you’ve been talking about it for two weeks now.

Things had changed a lot in the past nine weeks. And not just because the two of you began to have sex on a regular basis. The house seemed more calm. There was an ease now, a tension that had left Ransom’s shoulders. You seemed more at ease too from what he could tell. You’d begun showering him with more affection, sweet lingering kisses down his spine before you left the bed, a press of your lips to his as you enter or exit a room. Thumb releasing the tension in his brow when he was too focused on writing, a kiss wishing it away.

The two of you fell into step as though this was a two year anniversary instead of a two month.

It was nice.

It was very nice.

“It’s good to see you happy.” Dowd said. “I’m very proud of you. You’ve come a long way in the last two years.” Ransom nodded. He felt proud. He did. The guilt still gnawed at him sometimes. But he’d received a letter about a week ago.

Fran’s Mother.

Forgiveness is a tricky thing. And while the two of them would never meet, and probably never speak again. Fran’s Mother believed that God was telling her to forgive him. She thanked him for the royalty checks she’d been receiving in the mail. It helped with her husband’s increasing medical bills. But she will never have her little girl back.

And it was his fault. But she forgave him. Just how he was learning to forgive his parents.

Forgive himself. That was the hard one. He’ll be working on that maybe until the day he dies he thinks. Maybe.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Ransom explains. Dowd smiled softly,

“And she’s not going to leave.”

“Yeah,” Ransom agreed, “She’s not going to leave.” Well she is, but not completely. He was an adult. He could start taking care of himself, but she was still going to technically be his assistant.

“This is our last session together and before it ends is there anything you’d like to say?” Dowd asked him. The old man had taken on a new light for him over the last two years, Ransom really liked the guy. There was no doubt he helped him a lot, but it was more than that. Dowd was a good man. It was admirable. Ransom had never met a good man in his entire life.

Dowd loved his family, his wife, he loved his job. He was a good guy and if it wasn’t wildly inappropriate Ransom would have loved to take him golfing. Maybe invite his family over for dinner. Maybe one day. Maybe once the Doctor retires.

“I don’t think it should be our last session.” Dowd smiled at that.

“That’s exactly how you know you’ve improved.” The man assured, “Cause you’re nowhere near done.” Ransom should have taken offense to that, but he knew. He was still a work in progress. He still needed help, just maybe not as much as before.

Dowd parted with a cookie tin full of those caramel cookies Ransom loved so much, but he was too excited to care. You were ready to go. You wanted to see your sister more than anything else and he was happy to take you there.

He smirked as you ran into your sister’s arms. The fourteen year old was taller than you now, her face dotted with acne. She glared at Ransom over your shoulder.

He deserves it. Honestly.

Dinner was no better. The teen ignoring him completely as he sat awkwardly in the smallest restaurant he’d even been in. You’d spoke practiced spanish to the server and older woman he’d also seen flipping tortillas on the flat top in the back. You’d placed a paper plate with radishes, limes, and a mix of spicy peppers, onions, and cactus in front of the three of you.

A mess of plates were served. This little hole in the wall served the best tacos he’d ever had. Acidic ceviche that he’d eaten scooped into chips, the second order he ate with a spoon straight from the bowl. He didn’t interrupt the two of you and your jovial conversation.

Julia gossiped about a girl at school who was apparently a total bitch and everyone hates her, but she had secretly been dating another girl they went to school with and was now being super nice because she wasn’t closeted anymore.

There was another story about a teacher who had recently lost a child that your sister and her club had been trying to get money together to help pay for the funeral, “How much do you need?” Ransom interrupted.

Julia looked at him with wide eyes, almost forgetting he was there for a moment. “Uh… like we’ve raised almost $2,000 but we were trying to get a full ten.” Ransom nodded, squeezing a lime over his taco.

“Remind me to write you a check before I drop you back off.” He felt your eyes on him, a soft smile. You weren’t going to spring the relationship on your sister quite yet. Not when she still wanted to strangle him.

“That- You’re going to give me $8,000?” Julia asked incredulously. Ransom nodded, chewing and swallowing.

“It’s hard to lose a child.” He offered, “It’s hard for everyone.”

“Especially the parents.” Julia bit. He deserved that. He nods.

“Especially the parents.”

He was nervous. What if you didn’t like it? He’d sell it he’d suppose. But you had to like it. He broke into your tablet one night and sent screenshots of your Pinterest saves to an interior designer. It should be what you want, how you wanted it.

“Where are we going?” You asked. You had sat in the back with your sister. The two of you holding hands and talking about how homecoming went and how there was a junior guy in band who had asked her to the prom.

“We’re almost there.” He pulled into a paved driveway, turning the corner he tapped a few times on his phone the dark house lighting up before him. He heard two collective gasps from the backseat.

“Ransom, what is this?” You were confused, obviously. He exited the car, the two of you following.

He stepped up on the porch, not answering. His heart racing in his chest. He dug out the small key chain that had been weighing heavily in his pocket, turning to the two of you and hanging it from a finger. “I know you hate expensive gifts, but I can’t let you go back to that apartment.” His mouth was dry.

“Ransom.” You breathed. The keys were snatched from his finger, Julia moved past him to unlock the door, rushing inside.

“Oh my God!” She squealed from inside. Ransom shrugged softly, hand still outstretched towards yours.

“Please take it.” He whispered. A few seconds ticked by as he watched you decide. Please take it.

“Y/N,” Julia called, “This house is incredible.” She was panting in the doorway, shoes already discarded. He watched you look past him to her, the smile on her face. And you took his hand.

You’d been dating for a while when Ransom suggested couples therapy. Pretty much as soon as you’d moved in together. It was a nice break. Six months not seeing each other every minute of every day. He picked you up on real dates. You’d gone to real movies. You’d taken real walks in a real park. You had after dinner drinks at a real bar. One which you’d remembered he had ignored you in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Julia had just gone to bed. She had a soccer game in the morning. He’d suggested it while you were getting ready for bed. A box of his clothes sat still packed in the corner. The last box. One you hadn’t quite gotten to yet.

“There’s nothing wrong,” He defended. “I just think that it would keep us in a healthy relationship.” And you agreed. He was happy you agreed. He didn’t want you to think that he felt as though there were problems. Other than him leaving his dirty socks and coffee mugs around the two of you hadn’t had much of a disagreement.

Yet.

Dowd was kind enough to still make house calls, something Ransom was fortunate for. He was working hard getting his next novel out. Deadline coming on quick as the two of you sat in a session where the Doctor looked at you and said,

“He’s treated you fairly poorly over the last two years.” Ransom felt offended. Dowd was supposed to be on his side, but he came out the gate swinging. It didn’t stop it being true.

You opened and closed your mouth. “I wouldn’t say…” You rubbed your hands down your thighs, drying the sweat on your palms.

“It’s not okay.” Dowd responded. “We both know him, we know how far he’s come.” He gestured to Ransom and Ransom nodded.

“He’s right baby.” A hand on your thigh in a way Ransom hoped was comforting. “The way I treated you is not okay. I’ve made a lot of bad decisions.” You sat awkwardly. Ransom wondered if you were beginning to regret this.

“But Ransom, honey, I just--” You looked so nervous, sinking down into the couch, your eyes fixed on Dowd. “You’ve changed so much, and you’ve never really been…” You gestured with your hands. “You’re a victim of circumstance.” You began, “I don’t believe that if you’d had loving parents you would have ever been in the situation you were in… not that you know, nature versus nurture and I just think, I don’t know, maybe... “

“It’s okay.” Dowd put a hand out. “Listen, this is a lot to start with and it’s okay. We don’t have to get too far into it. The next session I would like to have both of you write a letter to each other, something about how the last two years have affected your life. I think that’s where we should start.”

Intermingling breaths and hips pushed into the kitchen table, loud moans echoing in the kitchen as Ransom sinks himself into you over and over. “So fucking hot baby.” He breathes. “So fucking hot,” He hitched your leg up onto the table, enabling him to go deeper. “You’ll do anything for me, wont you?” He asked. His snapping hard against your perfect ass, hands roughly gripping the globes, tinted red by the palm of his hand.

“Yes,” You moaned roughly, “Anything.” Ransom moaned, reaching a hand down to steadily rub your clit, so wet for him. Only him.

“I love you so fucking much.” He moaned, hips beginning to falter as you came around him. Pussy contracting, milking his cock as he released inside the condom, panting.

“I love you too.” You whispered heavily into the room. Both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Thank you for doing this for me.” His fingers tracing softly down your bare spine. “I know it makes you uncomfortable.” He watched as you pulled your discarded shirt back on, shifting your leggings back up your hips as he discarded his condom, pulling his sweats back up over his own.

“I think it’ll be good for us,” You said, “In the long run.” He nods in agreement.

“I would hate for us to turn out like my parents.” He whispered.

“We’re not ever going to be like your parents.” You assured him, gripping his hand softly.

“I don’t want you to resent me in twenty years.” He looked into your eyes, searching as you replied,

“You think we’ll be together in twenty years?” You asked. He rolled his eyes as you let a watery laugh part your lips. He pressed his lips tightly against yours, fingers tangled in your hair.

“I sure as hell hope so.”

The sessions continued. One a month. Each month.

The two of you worked together to make this relationship work. You tried hard. You grew and you grew together.

“I think we’d be pretty good parents.” He said once. A few weeks before the marriage proposal. It got the both of you hot for it. The idea. Not something you’d been planning on acting on anytime soon but when he was balls deep inside your tight wet pussy he couldn’t help but imagine you swelling with his child, breasts heavy, firm belly pressing against him as he thrust inside you.

He was hot for it, always.

And you were thinking of it too. You’d spin your engagement ring around your finger and stare at him wistfully, tongue coming out to wet your lower lip.

You were riding him. Hips circling on top of his, panting and moaning. Your body glistening with sweat. Hands curled in your hair, back arched. “You gonna give me a baby?” You asked. He nodded, panting, he wanted to thrust into you but he couldn’t help but love the way you looked right now. Chasing your own release. Selfish. Wanting.

He fucking loved it.

You held his wrists to the bed, using your knees to rock back and forth on top of him as you pressed your lips to his. A whisper against his lips. “You gonna cum inside me?” You moaned.

“Yes, baby.” He braced his feet against the bed grinding his hips against yours, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone until you were shuddering on top of him, moaning into his mouth with your release. You collapse against his chest, his arms coming to wrap around your waist, his braced feet giving him the leverage he needed to fuck you. His hips starting a punishing rhythm. The loud slap of his thighs meeting yours filling the room.

“I can’t wait.” He breathes, “I love you so fucking much.” Your choked moans did him in, his release spilling inside you, not willing to let you go quite yet as the two of you stilled. The sweat covering your bodies began to chill you.

“I love you too.”

The wedding was small. Springtime. For months after the proposal and very quiet. Neither of you had very much family and fewer friends. A small group in your backyard. A cake from your favorite bakery. Promises of a bright future and a new life. Here, together.

You’d feel the flutter in your belly a few months after that.

taglist // @littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @Diedrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah @sleepycvpid @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @starlywars @gifsbysimplysonia @rocknbasil @imnotelasticheart @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa @steviemae @bemysugarbean @truefangirlheart @babiiface95 @mydarlingharry @elzzin @sweetheart-syndrome @behindthesehazeleyes27 @bassclarinety @orenjineki @southerngracela @songforhema @mjey12 @thatgaldonna @annedub @patzammit @bloatedandlonly @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans #knives out

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rae-arts777 · 3 years

Note

Makoto and Laurent dealing with tantrums!!!😂 Since Makoto is adamant about Lizzie not growing up to be a spoiled brat. So he designates himself as the disciplinarian. Thing is though, he’s got the a temper himself and tends overreact/stress out too easily. Leaving Laurent to deal with two moody toddlers.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

Here’s the thing, Elizabeth is a good child, but she for sure got a bit of her father Makoto’s temper and mouth.

As a child, they did have a few meltdowns.

Laurent came home to Elizabeth’s room a mess and his daughter screaming while Makoto was in the corner holding her. Turns out Makoto scold her for saying “I’ll just ask aunt Cythina to get it for me then!” And it was all down hill from there.

Makoto gets really annoyed when the others buy her things or take her to do things without asking Makoto or Laurent.

Elizabeth did get into a mind set of “oh well I’ll just ask my aunt/uncle and they’ll get it for me”

Laurent and Makoto did train her out of it, teaching her why it’s right not to go around bragging about that and why it’s hurtful when she says things like that, espically to them.

Laurent dealt with one of her meltdowns when he had firmly said no for permission to go on a schooltrip. When she was younger, they did have a worry people of their past would come and use Elizabeth to get revenge. So one of them always chaperone her school trips. One trip none of them had the time. They were suppose to go to a zoo. Laurent had said no, but Elizabeth kept begging and begging. She wanted to go with all her friends. He stood his ground. He did get to a point where he more firmly went “Elizabeth Edamura-Theirry. I said no young lady. And that is final!”

Makoto heard her screaming all the way from outside. He ran in to find Elizabeth on the floor of Laurent’s study, kicking and hitting the floor, screaming at the top of her lungs. Laurent was mainly in shock not knowing what to even do. He finally snapped out of it and tried to get her to relax.

They ended up carrying her to her room, still trashing and screaming. They put her in there and closed the door and just waited until she calmed herself down. Both of them were rubbing their heads not knowing how to explain why she couldn’t go on the trip.

After she finally calmed down, the two peeked in to find her sitting in the middle of her still crying. She had unmade her bed in a angry fit and threw pillows everywhere. They were just happy she didn’t actually break anything.

She was still mad after they talked but they ended up taking her to the zoo with a group of her friends a month or so later when they had time.

Her meltdown tended to be rare. But if they thought she was going to break something, one of them would hold her in the corner tightly until she would calm down.

One time it was so bad, Makoto was trying to stop her from hitting the wall, and in their struggle she ended up hitting him in the face really hard.

“ELIZABETH!!!!!”

Laurent saw Makoto turn red, and it was like slow motion. He ripped Elizabeth out of Makoto’s hands and took over. Demanding Makoto go to their room and allow him to deal with it, before his husband made it worst with his own screaming.

In her teen years-

That’s was actually the worst.

During age 13 there were times her and Makoto would get into huge screaming matches. She did start getting really moody, and again, has her father’s mouth and temper.

The reason why it was bad between them is cause both of them always had to have the last say. They’re both stubborn.

The fights are broken up when Laurent steps in. He sends both of them to their rooms until they’ve calmed down.

Of course then Makoto gets pissed at Laurent, and starts screaming at him too. Laurent just keeps sternly telling him to go to the bedroom. He knows if he starts yelling too things will just get worst.

Elizabeth would angrily scream and then cry into her pillow, sometimes hitting it against her bed a few times to blow off steam.

Makoto would pace around his and Laurent’s room, screaming into a pillow at well. Once he calms down he would sit on the floor and stare at the ground thinking he’s a horrible father.

Laurent goes talks to them separately first.

Then he takes them to the dining room table and they’ll sit there all night until one of them starts talking to the other.

As she got older, she learned to control her temper a bit more, thanks to Laurent and her aunt Abby. She ended up mellowing out. Just that age, was a nightmare. It was filled with lots of

“IM NOT A KID!!!!!”

“IM A TEENAGER NOW!!! STOP TREATING ME LIKE IM 5!!”

“STOP CONTROLLING ME!!!”

“I WANT TO GO!!”

“I CANT WAIT TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE!!”

And even a

“YOURE NOT EVEN MY REAL DAD”

she instantly regretted that one cause both her dads faces went so quick from angry and stern to pure hurt

Makoto didnt make it any better with a “THEN GO!!! GO FIND YOUR “REAL” PARENTS THEN.!!!” And stormed out trying not to cry.

Elizabeth felt her whole body start to shake, and tears starting to well.

“Pa…” she looked at Laurent who was rubbing his head and wiping a few tears, taking a few breaths to relax

“Papa….papa please i didnt mean it…” she started to sob thinking Makoto meant it

“Shhh shhh..I know..I know..I know baby girl..” Laurent pulled her into a tight hug as she sobbed into his shirt. Laurent rocked her, petting her hair “shhhh..shhh..I know…we say things when we’re mad…your father didn’t mean it..I swear..”

Makoto came back 2 hours later, red puffy eyes from sobbing. Laurent and him talked earlier on the phone.

Elizabeth quickly ran down when she heard him come in. She stood away from him a bit, trying not to cry again.

Makoto felt tears again as well “I’m sorry…” he pulled her into a tight hug, and Elizabeth broke down again.

They fell on the floor, Makoto hugging her tightly and rocking her, sobbing and apologizing over and over again. Elizabeth clinged to him crying and curled up in his arms, apologizing too.

Laurent went to them and hugged them both, holding his family tightly and close. He kissed both their heads and allowed them to cry everything out.

(I got carried away with this)

#great pretender #the great pretender #grepre #laurent thierry #makoto edamura #edamura makoto #great pretender anime #edaurent fankids #domestic edaurent #edaurent #edaurent life #makoto x laurent

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actuallybarb · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath ~ Part 5

Summary: y/n goes to avengers compound, mysterio proves to be a dick even in the afterlife, y/n fixes everything sleep be damned

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio is finally out of the picture god bless, trauma, marvel bs and shenanigans

Word Count: 3691

A/N: sleep deprivation and coding are not my strong suits yet i find myself writing about them way too often

/////////

Let’s just say, I am so grateful Jessica is in my life, or else I would be toast.

“How could you keep something like this from us?”

“You were forced to use your powers against your friends?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

They had good intentions - they’re just worried. I’ve had five, almost six, years to process it, and they’re getting it all thrown at them at once.

That’s at least what my brain was trying to tell me. But the louder they got the faster my breathing shallowed out and my heart beat and shit is the room spinning?

“Y/N?”

Jess.

“Are you okay?”

“I-“ The three of them were looking at me and wow, as much as I loved Jessica, I felt like I was being suffocated. “I need some air.” I basically sprinted out of the room.

There was only one floor between us and the roof, and the couple that lived there were so old they wouldn’t reach the window by the time I was off the fire escape.

The sun was setting. When the pollution was worse, pre-blip, the sky would turn pink and purple and every color in between. Now it’s just blue. Less pollution is good. But I miss how the sky used to be.

I sat on the edge of the roof with my legs dangling over the edge, trying to get a grip on my reality, when none other than Spider-Man came swinging around and sat beside me.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey Peter.”

“Are you okay?”

I brought my knees up to my chest. To tell or not to tell - the question of my life. “I just told my parents about my powers. The- they have mixed feelings.” Peter just sat there, so I took the chance and kept talking. Talking to someone who kind of gets it. “They just kept getting louder and louder. So I left.” I brought my chin down to my knees too. “Jess is down there, though, she can help calm them down.”

“Who’s Jess?”

“My foster mom. Both my parents were snapped, so were her husband and kid, so I lived with her. She used to be the only other person who knew what I could do. Now I feel like everyone does.”

“Who else knows?”

I counted in my head. “Eleven, including me.”

Peter counted too, but he was two short. “Who else? I already counted Fury.”

“My shrink. And Flash. He saw me while I was a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Y/N.”

“Aren’t I?” I stood up and started pacing. “You saw what I did in London. That wasn’t a pack of drones, that was me. All me.”

“You’re not a monster, Y/N. You may have been the one doing the damage, but Beck forced you too. He threatened to kill you and your parents if you didn’t cooperate. You didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, well,” I sat down again, probably closer to Peter than was friendly, “that doesn’t help my conscience.”

“We…“ He sighed. “We can’t let Beck have a hold on us. That’s just what he wants.”

“Happy gave me a card. He told me to call him.”

Peter perked up immediately. “Have you called him yet?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I had to tell my parents first before anything else, just in case something got out about London.”

“You told them everything?”

“I don’t like lying. I can tell when other people do it and it just pisses me off. It just makes things easier if you tell the truth.” I sighed and stood up, brushed my hands off on my pants, and stepped down from the ledge. “I’ll see you around, Peter.”

“Going back to face them?”

I smiled and shrugged. “Has to be done eventually.”

/////////

They let me call Happy, and that weekend I was allowed to stay at the Avenger’s compound. It was weird, being surrounded by adults that had been doing the whole ‘superhero’ thing for a while. Even Peter, who was the same age as me, looked so much more in his element during training.

“Are you a genius too?”

It was breakfast. I had made myself some scrambled eggs and bacon, because, according to Sam, “You have to eat protein too, Y/N, not just that sugar shit.”

I side-eyed Bucky as I took a bite of eggs. “Define ‘genius.’”

“Peter’s brain runs a mile a minute. I know you guys go to the same school, so?”

I shrugged. “I pass, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N.”

I huffed. “I don’t know, I just am. I mean, sure, I hacked into Stark’s servers when we were in Prague, but it doesn’t seem extraordinary. The only part about me that actually feels different is the fact that I can make fire with my bare hands.”

I didn’t realize there were people listening in on our little conversation. “You hacked into Tony’s servers in Prague?”

Pepper Potts was who I wanted to be when I grow up. A complete badass. And I just ruined her perception of me in one sentence. “Uh… Yes.”

“We could never figure it out. FRIDAY got an alert, but you were untraceable. How’d you get through all of the firewalls?”

“I-“ There were more people in the kitchen now. “I don’t know.”

Pepper looked me up and down. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to do it again. Then we can improve the system. Then we can think about adding you to our software development team.” She winked at me, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving me absolutely gobsmacked. Wow, I’d only been there a weekend and I was already picking up the old man slang.

“Damn, kid.” Bucky pat me on the back then continued eating his way through his third bowl of cereal, because, as Sam angrily said to me, “He’s a grown-ass man, Y/N, he can eat whatever shit he wants.” And then admitted, after some slight teasing, “Do you really think I could be able to tell him what to do?”

“He is your boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point.”

I wanted the weekend to last forever, but I was promised another one, where I could show Pepper my breaking and entering skills and eventually beat Wanda at poker. (She can literally read minds, it’s an unfair advantage.)

My parents, though still wary, were glad to see me in such high spirits - it didn’t happen very often, so they took advantage of it as much as possible.

But it didn’t last long. Mom and Dad sat down on the couch to catch up on This is Us on Tuesday and I went to grab my laundry, but when I got back out I dropped it in shock.

“Spider-Man’s name-“ Beck’s video cut out then flashed back. “Spider-Man’s name is Peter Parker!”

“Fuck.”

Mom was too shocked to scold me for my language.

“That’s just horrible.”

“How could Spider-Man do such a thing?”

I looked at my dad and wanted to hit him upside the head. “Dad! Peter didn’t kill Beck!”

“You heard what the video said-“

“I also know that Beck had a team of people working with him that probably knew how to use his tech as well as he did.” When he didn’t give me more than a blank stare I groaned. “They made it up! It’s all fake so they can ruin Peter’s life.” I pulled out my phone. “I have to call-“

Everyone will be trying to call Peter.

What good will that do, then?

How the fuck can we fix this?

I pressed a different contact and held my phone up to my ear, my laundry completely forgotten on the floor as I made my way up to the roof. “Pepper.”

“You saw it?”

“How could I miss it?” Pepper Potts saw right through me my first day at the compound. She knew from the get-go my feelings for Peter. That’s probably the only reason she took my call. “What do we do?”

“I have three other lines open with my lawyers and they’re looking into every bit of information they can get their hands on. Y/N,” she started, “I need you to find him. We can’t let him run off or do something extreme, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Text me when you find him, I’ll let you know what the lawyers say.”

If I was Peter Parker, where would I go?

I have no idea I barely know the guy.

Shut up, Y/N, you’re more similar than you think.

Oh. Duh. He’d be on a rooftop.

After a quick text to MJ, I figured he’d be close to May, considering he saw the whole thing from a big screen in Times Square. And, lo and behold, there he was, on the rooftop of his apartment building.

“Peter.”

“Y/N?” I hated seeing his eyes bloodshot. It was a look he donned too often. “What- How-“

I pulled him into a hug, and he just sort of… crumbled. I just sort of held him for a little bit before he let go and rubbed at his eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t know what to do.”

Great, now I have to be the problem solver.

“Have you talked to anyone yet? May, MJ, Ned?”

He shook his head. “MJ saw it with me, but I left before she could say anything.”

I nodded. “Okay. Let me- hold on.” I texted Pepper, “I got him,” and she responded back, “Bring him. Happy’s bringing May.”

“Who is it?”

“Pepper. She says we need to get to the compound.” I started to move to the edge, but Peter stayed frozen in place. “Peter?”

“What if it’s all a trick? What- what if this is all a big hallucination? What if Beck is still alive? What if everything since the trip has been fake, and that’s why everything’s been going so well with MJ, and now he’s just blowing it up in my face, and-“

“Peter!”

I’m not gonna lie, the thought had crossed my mind. How do you tell what’s actually reality when you don’t even know yourself?

But I could feel the ground beneath me. Beck couldn’t trick me in Prague, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to trick me now. (Mostly because he’s dead, but that’s not the point.)

“Hallucination or not, we should go.”

He shook his head again. “No, I can’t, May’s still here, and MJ, and Ned-“

“Happy is bringing May to the compound. Just call MJ and Ned, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I can’t just leave everyone!”

“And I can’t let you stay!” Some pigeons flew off at both of our outbursts. I sighed. Why does he always give me such a headache? “Peter, please, we have to go.” As if on cue, a helicopter came flying over us, shocking Peter out of his stupor.

“How are we getting there?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“We can take my mom’s car, she barely uses it anyway.” Peter nodded, and I sent Mom a quick text. “Can I use the car?”

“Why?”

“I need to go to the compound. Peter’s freaking out.”

...

“Sure. Keep us updated.”

“‘Course.”

Peter and I made it back to my rooftop in five minutes, then we took the elevator down to the underground garage. “Here.” I tossed him a hoodie to wear over his suit. “Keep your head down ‘til we’re out of the city, okay?” He just nodded, then curled up on the seat as the traffic of New York crept by.

He was asleep fifteen minutes into the drive. We hadn’t even left Manhattan yet and his breathing evened out. Just in time, Pepper was calling me. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Are you guys on your way?”

“Yeah, we still have a while, though.”

Peter stirred awake. “Is that Pepper?”

“Hi, Peter.”

“Is May there yet?”

“Happy said they still have about fifteen minutes. Listen, Pete, I’ve called some lawyers, and they…”

Pepper kept talking, but I felt Peter’s heart rate go up.

“Hey- Pep- We’re losing-“ I hung up.

He immediately relaxed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He sat back in the chair and looked at me, which made me only want to reach out and hold the hand he had on the center console, but I couldn’t because: a) I still didn’t know him that well, and, b) that’s just weird. So I kept two hands on the wheel and my eyes straight ahead until Peter started talking.

“What else can you do?”

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You said you can tell when people are lying. What else can you do?”

I glanced at him before the road captured my attention again. “Um,” my fingers tapped the steering wheel, “I can open metal locks. Like, if it’s metal, I know how it’s made.”

He peeked up considerably at that. “That’s so cool! Does it work with everything?”

“I mean, I guess? I haven’t tried it on much, just like locks and if my computer starts acting stupid.”

“Could you do it on Mr. Barnes arm? Or my nano-tech suit? Or-“ His face paled immediately. Was he going to burst into tears? To vomit? I couldn’t tell, but I really wanted the answer to be “no.”

“I could try it on Bucky’s arm. I’m not sure it would work, I haven’t tried something that complicated, but that’d be pretty cool.”

Peter didn’t talk much the rest of the ride. May was waiting outside to greet him, and she kept a secure arm around his waist while they followed Pepper inside the compound, Happy not far behind. I was left outside with the car.

My first instinct was to call Jess, because even though it wasn’t me directly affected, I still felt like a pound of bricks fell on my chest. But I picked up my phone and called Mom instead, because my shrink told me the relationship wouldn’t get better without some work. And she is my mom; it’s not like I don’t love her, we’re just different people now, and we have to learn each other all over again.

“Mom?”

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s everything going?”

“Not too great, if we’re being completely honest. I- I don’t know what to do.”

Mom had exactly 8 days of superhero-parenting under her belt, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t give it her best effort. “What do you usually do when you feel this way?”

Wow, she really is learning. “Something productive.”

“You did say they had a training room.”

Genius. “Yeah, I did. Thanks, Mom.”

And that’s where I was found an hour and a half later by Sam Wilson. FRIDAY had a lot of fun creating new simulations for me and it kept me distracted enough to not focus on the complete ass Quentin Beck and the primal urge I felt to pound the face of his carcass in. Not to be morbid or anything.

“You okay, kid?”

One last fireball at the bad guy and I had won my fifth round in a row. “Sure.”

“That wasn’t very convincing.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” My water bottle lay helplessly empty on the ground next to a small towel, both of which I picked up to avoid a tripping hazard later. “How’s it going in there?”

“They’re looking at all the different ways to get the video down and find the creator and clear Peter’s name, but FRIDAY hasn’t been able to get past the firewalls.”

I swear my neck popped my head shot up so fast. “Firewall?”

“Yeah. Wanna take a crack at it?”

I followed him out of the training room and into a huge lab I had only had the pleasure of walking past. Now I was standing in the center of technology heaven.

“Are we going to get technical with legality here?”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t tell, do what you have to do.”

This. This was my element. Beck forced me to make an Elemental for him and tried to force me to kill hundreds of people, thinking I could do it because I could control water, earth, fire, and air. But little did he know he was creating something that dropped the ball completely in my court.

“Okay. Let’s blow the bastard up. FRIDAY, I want you to observe only.”

Then I got to work.

////////////

“Where did Y/N go?” Peter and May were still in the conference room, talking in hushed voices, while Pepper continued to talk to the lawyers, drawing up a new game plan. Happy was the only one to wonder where I went.

“She’s in the lab.”

“Did you take her in there?” Happy started to get defensive, especially about anything Tony related, but Sam just set his glass down and motioned for him to follow.

“She broke into the archives on a laptop in Prague. If anyone is going to have any luck at that video, it’s her.”

They walked along the outside of the lab. “She locked the doors the second I left. Probably doesn’t want us screwing up her process.”

Happy’s eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled. It was almost like Tony was back. The loud music in the background, thirteen different screens open at once, fingers and brain moving faster than the eye could see.

Sam glanced over at Happy and smiled too. “It’s almost like the good ‘ole days.”

He coughed, trying to get over how choked up he was feeling. “She and Peter both have it. They— they both make it seem less- less empty.”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Keep an eye on her? FRIDAY knows to let someone in if she’s crashing.”

“How does she know that?”

“It’s the same protocol Rhodey had installed for Tony.”

/////////////

Stark Industries computers are a dream to begin with. Actual Tony Stark tech? It’s like I died and went to heaven. That was probably insensitive to say, but hey, someone’s gotta appreciate the man’s work. And I will happily do so.

I didn’t come out for hours, probably days. The only time I let someone into the lab was if they were bringing me coffee, and even then it would go untouched half the time.

“Y/N.”

“Shut up I’m almost there.”

“You said that six hours ago.”

“And now I’m six hours closer.”

“This isn’t healthy.”

“Isn’t it?” I took a sip of the blessed espresso and kept typing. “Seriously, Bucky, I’m almost there, I can taste it.”

“You’ve been at it for-“

“Got it.” I saved the video to the personal system then took it down, bit by bit until it was completely erased from every hard drive on the planet. (Stark Tech can do that. It’s totally invasive but I don’t care enough to worry about the ethics of it.) “Let me follow the source.” One hundred and twenty four clicks later, “I got them.”

“Them?”

“All of Beck’s bitches.” I pushed back in the chair and let myself feel exhausted. “Can you get Pepper? She seems way more qualified to deal with this. FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Keep surveillance on these twelve will you? All movement needs to be tracked.”

“All movement?”

“Even when they take a piss.”

I was happy to just curl up in the chair and fall asleep, but Bucky had other ideas. He put an arm under my legs and carried me to the room I stayed in over the weekend. He was even thoughtful enough to take off my shoes before he pulled back the covers and tucked me in.

“Wait, Bucky.” He turned around and took a step forward, just within reach. I stretched my arm out and let my fingers touch his vibranium arm. “There’s a wire in your pinky that needs to be replaced soon.”

Then my arm fell and I lost all consciousness.

/////////////

Apparently I slept for fifteen hours. At least, that’s what FRIDAY told me. She also told me that my parents were at the compound, which freaked me out more than how long I slept.

I walked into the communal kitchen and was met with the afternoon sun blazing through the wall-long windows. After blinking several times I realized I was definitely not alone.

Almost everyone was there. Pepper, Happy, Sam, Bucky, Peter, May, and my parents were dispersed around the kitchen and connected living room. “‘Morning.”

Everyone’s heads turned to me. “Y/N!”

It was Peter that rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug. I have to say, I was thrilled it was him. I got a good look at his face when he pulled away and he looked a lot better. No bloodshot eyes in sight. “How are you?”

“Starving.”

I sat beside Mom at the huge island, a stack of pancakes immediately put in front of me by Sam.

“I thought you didn’t want me eating that sugar shit?” Mom pinched me in the arm for my swear, but I didn’t care, not when I could get a rise out of Samuel.

“I’ll make an exception just this once.”

With half a mouth full of pancakes I asked Pepper, “What happened?”

What was that look on her face? Pride? Relief? I couldn’t tell. “All twelve of them were arrested and are currently being tried in court.”

“And the whole Peter dilemma?” I glanced his way, but he didn’t look nervous. He looked… happy.

“Taken care of. Fury was able to pull a few strings and we’ll be able to get live news coverage of both Peter and Spider-Man at once so no one can question his identity. Spider-Man will remain anonymous. There’s still the matter of clearing Spider-Man’s name, but for now at least Peter will be safe.”

Peter looked at me with a huge smile on his face. “It’s all working out, Y/N. All thanks to you.”

I shrugged. “All I did was get past a few firewalls.”

Mom set a hand on my back and I smiled at her.

Maybe it was all working out.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #peter parker x mj #mcu #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #spiderman far from home #reader insert #spiderman #avengers

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alexlabhont · 4 years

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter nine.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

Tags: @dopeyouth @theymakemegayer @save-me-the-last-dance @poppysmc (If anyone want to be tagged in, just tell me)

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so… i’m sorry fo the grammar errors. I also installed recently Grammary, so... hope its worth it.

CHAPTERS

Chapter eight

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

"Zoey, please... Can we just talk about this?"

Beck asked, sounding tired but worried while sitting in the common room. Their eyes glued to the other girl passing back and forth inside the kitchen, pretending to be alright as she made some tea to herself. Even Pepes knew something was off, that little ugly face looked at her with those sad cute eyes as if he was grounded because of something he didn't understand.

"Talk about what exactly?" Zoey stopped for a second to look at them, she was pissed, the tension over her shoulders was like concrete. "About how you always manage to take my warnings and toss them in the trash? The way you keep going on and playing with fire over and over again despite my attempts to keep you safe? Whatever Beck, is your life."

They closed their eyes for a second, breathing deep. This problem started the moment Zoey saw Poppy in the room with Beck a few moments ago, and while the Queen B left almost immediately after that because of some business back at the shelter, Beck could feel their roommate's disagreement so thick and still in the air that they could almost cut it with a knife.

"Why are you so mad about it, anyway?" Beck asked, feeling a bit upset. "I get that you don't like her and all, but..."

"I don't trust her, Beck." She replied sharply. "She's mean, she's selfish, she's a spoiled brat who is not up to something good and you're falling into her web. She's gonna use you the moment she has the chance and throw you aside when she's tired!"

Something inside Beck snapped at that. Yes, they definitely did understand where that came from, for all they knew, Poppy made Zoey's life hell since day one, treating her badly constantly. Even Beck was once a victim of the blonde's anger and resentment during their first months in Belvoire, so much so that Beck thought she was naturally mean and a complete bitch. But, somehow, they had a chance that maybe nobody had before, to get to know her, and slowly they began to see that- maybe she wasn't a born-bitch, maybe she didn't know another way. Maybe she wasn't taught better. Something on their chest knew that, deep down, Poppy wasn't that bad at all.

"How-how can you know that?!" Beck said, standing on their feet. They didn't like a bit the way Zoey was talking about the strawberry blonde. She wasn't there every single time Poppy showed them how much she cared about them, how kind and attentive she could be every time they were alone, and Beck was tired of all these misjudgments. "She can be mean and cruel sometimes, but it doesn't mean she has something planned to hurt me! I like her, a lot. And I think she likes me too. Why can't you be happy for me just this time?"

To their surprise, Zoey scoffed sarcastically, as if she couldn't believe exactly that.

"How can you be so naive, Beck? Do you think someone like Poppy is into someone like…"

She stopped abruptly, realizing how bad it might sound.

"Like me?" Beck asked suddenly, feeling hurt. All the times they heard people say shit like that, every single mockery and awful stares came back to their memory, making their chest hurt. The way Zoey looked at them broke Beck a little more.

"Beck... I didn't mean it like that..."

And they knew, Zoey would never say something to hurt them about being trans, but Beck couldn't help but feel a hit in the stomach. They latched their fists and looked down, clenching his jaw, waiting for her to speak before they let all their anger out.

"What I meant to say is... " Zoey walked towards them, stopping until both were face to face. "She has been awful to you all this time and suddenly, one day to another she treats you right? You are different from her... In a good way, you're kind, talented, and down to earth. I'm just afraid you’ll fall into her claws and come to be like her, or worse... That she'd hurt you badly..."

"I don't need your protection, Zoey" Beck said, feeling tired of being treated like some fragile being who needs to be protected. "I need you to trust me. Poppy has made some mistakes... But I know she cares about me. I know it! I can feel it every time we're together..."

Zoey remained silent as if she was processing every word Beck said. In the meantime, Pepes jumped over their legs asking to be held, Beck took him carefully in their arms and snuggled him against them trying not to hurt their rib as they felt him curl up with a whimper.

"I know, Pepes... Poppy's a whole different person to you too."

Just at that moment, Zoey rested her arms around Beck, hugging them by the hips.

"Beck, you know this goodie-Poppy better than anyone else on campus at least, so tell me... What do you think she feels about you?"

"I think she wants me," Beck said, petting Pepes’ head softly. That wasn't even a question to think about, it only took them a minute to bring back all the moments together, every time Beck could feel Poppy's concern and protective side... Zoey had a point, but Beck decided to bet on Poppy's good side no matter what. "She really wants me, Zoey. She has proven that to me in her way."

"Ok, next question. The real question. The one that matters." Beck could feel her taking a deep breath as if she were preparing herself to hear something she didn't want to listen to. "How do you feel about her?

"I..." Beck thought about all those moments together, how that caramel eyes made them shiver, every time Poppy managed to take their breath away, her touch, her smile, gosh, even their fights, and that thunder-like personality she had... "I want to be with her. She really makes me feel something special, Zoey. This thing between us is challenging, thrilling, and keeps me on my toes but it can be a good thing... I truly like her."

For a moment, Beck noticed Zoey's face fall for a second, defeated; but then, she pulled on a smile.

"Well, if you trust her... I can trust her as well."

Beck couldn't really believe that. Was she serious?

"Do you really mean that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Zoey simply said. "I may still be skeptical of Poppy behavior, but I trust you, Beck. You're a one of a kind." Zoey sat down on the couch, slinging her feet up on the coffee table.

Pepes barked happily as if he could understand the massive step Zoey just made, and jumped right to her legs, licking her face as excited as Beck would do it if they were a dog.

"No, stop it! You're ruining my makeup!" Zoey laughed while Beck did the same, defiled by the scene. "You are so cute I actually forgive you for chewing on my Valentino pumps, you little monster." She scooped him up and placed him on her lap before turning her attention back to Beck. "'Kay, here's what you're gonna do about Poppy."

"Take her on a date?" Beck asked, resulting in a giggle coming from Zoey's lips.

"I love when we do this whole telepathy thing."

"Really? It scares the shit out of me sometimes..." They said joking around. "Like that one time when...!"

And because of that telepathic bound, Zoey didn't even let them finish that sentence, waving her hands in Beck's face while a red color crossed her cheeks.

"Uh-uh-uh... We swore not to talk about it!"

Yep, they both swore that. Sometimes, being roommates was a door to discover a lot of things about the other that may or may not be expected… at all.

"Anyway..." Zoey continued. "You're going to take Poppy on a date. A real date. We all already know her lifestyle, but it's time to let her know about yours. To get to know you. And if you're really willing to trust her… You need to tell her about Bree." Beck looked away, biting the insides of their cheek. That actually made their heart jump with a little bit of fear. "That's the only way she'll be able to find out where her head is at and what your limits are."

Pepes lunged for Zoey's fingers, but she snatched them back just in time.

“Not the manicure.” She said angrily, making him off to go to break something maybe. Beck followed him with their eyes, feeling actually amused by the interactions, secretly loving that love-hate relationship Zoey and Pepes had, it was quite funny. “Quit smiling, Beck. It’s not funny.”

“Oh, come on…!”

“Back to Poppy.” She quickly said, avoiding Beck's jokes about how she would rather have a broken finger than a broken nail. “You have to show her what’s going to happen if she dates Beck, if she wants it or not, is up to her. Just remember one thing: you are totally worth it and priceless. No more underestimating you. Trust me, there's a ton of ladies who would gladly take her place.”

Zoey smiled at them with a subtle hint Beck couldn’t fully place quite right, but they didn’t read too much into it, their mind was off, planning a lot of ideas for the date. There were a ton of possibilities for hot dates, but almost everything was so New York-ish that Poppy could do them with any person. Zoey was right, they needed to show her their true self, they had to open up to her…

And frankly, that was really scary.

So Beck took a deep breath and started typing on the phone.

Beck:

Hey. Wanna hang out?

Ok, that was it. Beck had to admit it, it was always Poppy, the one who made the plans, he wasn’t fully interested nor ready at the time, like… really, who would ever want to date their bully? But now things had changed and so did the dynamic.

Poison Poppy:

Missing me already?

Beck snorted, but a second message came in.

Poison Poppy:

I’m not surprised, tho

I knew you were obsessed with me. Happens a lot.

Beck:

Take it easy, baby girl. It's just a walk. Don't read too much into it.

It was definitely a date, but they refused to let her win this one over; Beck could be as hard to get like her.

Poison Poppy:

Ew, don’t you ever call me like that ever again.

Aren’t you supposed to be resting?

Beck:

Is that a “no”?

Poppy saw the message but then went off-line. That actually scared Beck a little, because even though they knew she was busy at the shelter, their nerves kept on saying she wasn’t as thrilled as them to hang out, maybe they should’ve waited until Poppy told them she wanted a date or something, but again, where was their initiative? They were interested, so they needed it to show her what they wanted. “Relax, you were fine.” Beck said to them, even though their heart was beating fast. The Poppy Min-Sinclair effect. So they spend a little too much time reading the whole conversation, was something they said? There were no signs of anything, it was actually a normal-flirty conversation… right?

Sooner rather than later, the typing sign showed up, alarming Beck. Quickly, they tapped the menu button just to get out of the chat. They definitely did not want her to think they were waiting for her reply… even though they were.

Poison Poppy:

I just don’t want to make something to worsen your rib. I didn’t pay a doctor to go to waste.

Same old Poppy, Imma right?

Beck:

It’s going to be low-key, I promise. Does tomorrow morning works for you?

Poison Poppy:

See you then, tushi face 😉

Beck let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, as the realization of what was happening hit them loud in their chest. Beck asked the Queen of Belvoire, their old enemy, the one and only Poppy Min-Sinclair for a date. And she said yes.

“Well… here goes nothing….”

____

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #queen b choices #choices stories you play #choices #choices poppy #bea hughes #mc x poppy #beck hughes #choices queen b mc #trans #ftm

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maghrib-genova · 4 years

Note

I’m scared to ask but what happened to Roberta in the movie? I’ve only seen the clip on YouTube where she’s at the club with her friend (the main character?) and then another clip where she gets out of his car angrily.....

So I will go to the start of the movie where her character being introduced. Sorry for all offensive language because that was what the movie use to describe her character. We have to start from the beginning to understand the "motive".

Warning : Graphic depiction of Violence. Also apologize if there's any pronoun mistake.

So the Roberta's friend you saw on the clip that picked her up at her work place Name Luca (isn't it ironic lol,) so Luca worked at a restaurant and he has three colleagues. One of them is a short old man, this man is filthy, talking about obscene scene at Job place.

Luca also has other colleague who is closer to him that I think Luca was comfortable enough telling him about himself, we will called this the average man, this average man told this obscene man that Luca had been seeing a sex worker and I think the obscene man might had used her service once.

So Roberta introduction to us audiences was this old obscene man calling Roberta tranny (which is a slur, like a whore but for trans person) asking Luca if He got her number, Luca didn't give the number to this old man, you know what pissed me off? He later confronted the average man just to ask him why did he told this obscene man that he was seeing a hooker? He said Roberta was just a friend and he looked offended that his average man friend would think something like this about him.

Omg I lost track this movie is insane when I am trying to unpack it and talk about it, the pointless thing they included in this movie lmao. So Luca actually was seeing a hooker but it was this rich old woman who offered a service at her big house fill with antiques. (Even when trying to compare this rich woman sex worker with Roberta I would sound like I hate woman so I don't know how to explain here lol)

Omg You weren't even asking for the full story lmao.. so get back on track brain. Where were we? Oh yeah we have to come to the third colleague that Luca have.

So this man is like such difficult to work with, we will call him tall man, he had worked in San Francisco for 15 years before he returned back to Italy because his wife left him (this movie is filled with the message that all the woman will leave you lol including Luca's love interest which is the only decent woman portrayed in this movie lol) and he was depressed and lost his job there (he was a waitress too).

So this tall man saw this obscene man snapping picture of the customer boobs so he told the boss about it and the obscene man gets a warning from his boss about his behavior.

Over all this tall man always bossing them around despite they are actually at the same level, he told Luca how to do his job, how to pour wine and stuff and even made him clean the toilet because the boss was complaining about something smell in the restaurant and this tall man was ready to fix the problem but of course he didn't do the job, it was Luca who did it, he just wanted to safe his face.

And the obscene man made another mistake in the work place and this tall man was about to report to the boss again, so the obscene man had an Idea, and it was the stupidest idea ever I think what was they thinking!

I think Luca was in this, after all, when his average man calling him about the plan, he asked "did you forgot?", meaning he had discussed about this plan, the three of them, to record the tall man sleeping with a trans sex worker and later use it against him If he ever thought to boss them around or sell them out to boss again.

There's where the nightmare stare for Roberta, I think the one who hired her must be that obscene man, since he was the one who get out of the car and confirmed it to Roberta, probably about the deal and stuff.

Luca was in another car with the average man, waiting dreadfully, like the shoot was from his perspective, then this tall man get into Roberta's car, they were in there for quite a while I think they went as far as kissing, we can't see what happened in the car, then the tall man came out from the car swearing that he touched "his balls" gosh the use of the language in this movie against trans woman, I am rolling my eyes so hard.

And Roberta also get out from the car she was angry with the assaulted and they get into a fight, she kicked the tall man's on his balls and then she saw Luca's in the car and she walked toward him and then the tall man rushed toward her and slammed her against the windshield, and he was beating her, and then the obscene man come to interfere, but Roberta while she struggled hit the obscene man with her elbow on his dick, it made this man furious.

Roberta was down on the road with the tall man keep attacking her, kicking her but we can't see her because the camera perspective still in the car with us as Luca, so this obscene man came back with a big stone in his hand and smashed her head repeatedly with it.

Only after all the horror had ended and The average man was begging Luca to go left the place that Luca reacted.

The other three men left. Luca was with Roberta when she died, he was cradling her in his lap and Roberta was asking for her wig to be put on her head and then Luca left her body on the street and went back home.

Later the obscene man called Luca to get back to the crime scene to collect his phone, and during the conversation with Luca to convince him to go back to take his phone, this obscene man keep calling Roberta as he, though Luca insisted in referring toward Roberta as her thorough their conversation.

So Luca get back to the crime scene and Roberta's body was not there anymore, the alien that had come to occupy this earth had resurrected her and taken her with them.

That's what happened to Roberta in this movie.

(I can write another essay why Roberta being taken by the alien send a whole other bad freaking message rather than trying to tell the audience like look at Roberta she was such a nice person too good for this world)

I am sorry if this wasn't the answer you are looking for and too long of an answer

#Roberta #luca marinelli #movie #l'ultimo terrestre #wickedwonder #answer #inbox

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mfbakuhoe · 5 years

Text

💥Handcuffs (Bakugou x Reader)💥

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Words: 3306

Genre: smut

Summary: You want revenge on your Boyfriend, but it backfires reallly quick.

Warnings: rough sex, swearing, hair pulling, name-calling

All Characters are aged up 18+, reader is on Birth control!

Okay so I tried some smut. Idk how I feel about it bit it was definitely a lot of work so I’m going to post it anyway. Btw I'm lowkey swerving to Kacchan's lane. Fight me 🙈

Enjoy!

____________

Frustrated the ash blond hero threw himself on king size bed, his member throbbing against his jeans. Ever since you, teased him through text during his patrol, telling him all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you when he comes home, he couldn't get his mind off how he would first eat you out and then fuck you senseless, til you begged him to stop.

Bakugou could barely focus on his job, causing his clueless best friend Kirishima to send him home, worried that he might pass out during the shift.

He was more than thankful, that his red headed friend didn't notice the buldge in his pants, being the reason for him to walk uncomfortably slow being so unconcentraded.

Bakugou rushed home as fast as he could, desiring nothing more than you walls clenching around him, but as he pushed open the door and rushed up the stairs, he didn't see anything but a empty, neat looking bed and a red scarf laying on the pillow.

He sat himself up and took his phone into his big hands, aching to release himself in you. As he was about to unlock his phone, so he could could text you, a message popped up on the top of his screen.

Baby momma

,,Put the scarf on your eyes?", he read rather questioning ,,What the fuck, Y/N?", Bakugou sighed sceptical, turing to the side facing the red scarf. Before he could ask you where you were and why he should do it, another messages from you popped up on his screen.

,,If you wanna cum today, than I'd recommend you to obey. You better not take them off.", he muttered confused. ,,Fuck, Y/N. When I catch you, I'll fuck the shit out of you", he said in a loud slightly amused voice, aware of his girlfriend spying on him with her quirk.

A part of the feisty spiky haired boy was pissed of, but the bigger, dominant part in him liked the little games you played, eager to know what you had planned. Bakugou grabbed the scarf to his left, wrapping it around his head, shutting off his eyesight completly.

,,I'm ready. Come let me fuck you know." he snapped, his patience reducing with every passing second. Suddendly he felt a force lightly pushing him, to lay down on his back, fixing his wrist on the sides of his head, as he tried to take off the scarf out of reflex.

,,I told you not to take of the fucking scarf, didn't I?", a low feminine voice whispered in Bakugou's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

,,What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?", Bakugou asked through gritted teeth, his arousal sending high amounts of dopamine through his body.

You straddled his lower body as you talked ,,Did you forget about last time, when you told me next time we fuck, I could do whatever I wanted to you? Well, here we are", you explained cheeky, grabbing his wrist to hadncuff him on the metal framework of the bed.

,,I was joking, to make your whining ass shut up about you loosing control over your body, whenever I fuck you. As if it's my fault, that you're so submissive to me", he said cockily, smirking as he boosted his own ego.

,,Even if you were joking, you are the one laying beneath me right know, obeying all of my demands. Are you so desperate for me to make you cum?", you asked in a provoking tone, ripping off the scarf off his face. Bakugou squinted his eyes, at the stromg light hitting his eyes, before looking at you, sitting on top of him. His body tensed up, when he saw hat you were wearing, making hs member in his pants twitch in excitement.

You wore a red lace strapse lingerie set with two red ribbons crossing from your bra down you torso to your red lacy thong.

His eyes got big, once he realized, that you weren't joking and you were actually the one with the upper hand.

,,I'm warning you, Y/N. I'm not in a good mood right now", he hissed at you piercing his narrowed eyes through yours, but he didn't intimidate you at all.

,,What you gon' do, daddy? If I wanted to, I could just let you lay here, waiting for you boner to go away by itself", you smiled mischieviously.Questioningly you tilted your head, waiting for an answer but all you recived was a harsh growl from you s/o, who understood, he hadn't had any power over you right now.

You leaned down, suppoting youself on his chest, licking on his ear before you continued talking, hearing Bakugo hasrhly sucking in the air.

,,Now, I will make you feel, what it means to really lose control over you own body. I will make you beg for release and satisfaction.", you moaned. seductivly, as you rubbed your cold hands up and down his warm abs, hidden underneath his shirt, feeling his body quiver. You slid your hands further down his torso to his abdomen, teasingly stopping at his waistband while challenging raising one eyebrow, expecting a much more desperate reaction from his side, but instead he just kept looking at you through narrowed eyes and a clenched, jaw. His forhead was covered in folds whilst the first sweatpearls glistened on his skin. You knew Bakugou to well bye now, to not know, that he forced himself through this situation, fighting back his desire just because he refused to grant you this triumph.

,,You seem very calm and collected. Maybe we can change that", you whispered with a impish smile adornigng your face. You slid down a little bit, lowering your face on eyesight with his crotch area. Arching your back provocatively, while you pushed your ass in the air just to recive a dangerous grunt in response.

,,What is it, daddy? Why do you look so mad?", you asked innocent, unbuttoning his pants in a painfully slow pace, not taking your eyes off of his. Bakugou still refused to interact with you, but by the increased pace of his chest pushing up and down, it was pretty clear, what effect you had on him.

,,You know daddy, your flavor is my most favorite flavor on earth", you hummed happily pulling down his pants to his knees, mustering the big buldge peaking though his grey boxers. Plaxing small kisses on the thin fabric covering his cock to make him grunt in response. You felt yourself getting wet, but you were far from done with him. You unpacked his member, watching it jumping up his belly. ,,That's why I gotta apreciate aaall off it. Slowly devouring all your juices, tasting every inch of you, daddy", you finished, your hot breath whipping against his hard cock.

A small groan left Katsuki's throat, as you kept pushing him to his limits, causing a smile to creep up your face. You had him where you wanted him to be, without doing as much as you expected you would have to do. You wanted him to plead you, with his words and he knew it.

His eyes angrily pearced through your soul, his breathing heavy and uneven. Eager you challenged him with a smile on you face, staring back at him.

,,You know what? I totally forgot to do the laundry. I guess my dick hunger can wait", you said pushing yourself up, ready to go. You tried to scare him. To provoke him into thinking he has to bare with his nearly exploding cock for any longer. ,,But can you tho?", you asked as you almost left through the door, swaying you hips for the full effect.

,,STOP, FUCK- GODDAMN IT, Y/N! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS BACK HERE AND PLEASE ME! I CAN'T TAKE YOUR BULLSHIT ANY LONGER!", you heard him scream from behind you. A jubilant smile covered your face, as you turned on your heels, facing the handcuffed ash blond eccentric, who exhaustedly leaned back with his his eyes closed, breathing heavyily. The despair in his voice turned you on even more, realizing the effect you had on him. You weren't nearly a sadist, other than your boyfriend. You just liked the backfires you was able to shoot at him, knowing that it was all your achievment.

,,Fuck no."

,,What?", he breathed weak.

,,I said no. I'll fuck you, when I want to fuck you. And I'll please you, when I want to please you, got it?", you said with a dominance in you voice, which didn't only surprise Katsuki, but yourself. His eyes widened, following every step you took towards him. Positioning both of you knees next to his legs on the bed. You bend over a little bit, grabbing his dick without a word, causing a deep groan out of Bakugou's mouth.

,,You crazy bitch", he mumbled still heavy breathing.

,,Don't act like you don't enjoy it, sir", you gasped, licking a long stripe up his dick. You felt Bakugou slowly relaxing under your touch as you continued lubricating his hard cock. You played with the tip off his cock, circling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum.

And before he knew it, he felt your warm, wet mouth covering his entire shaft.

,,Fuck", he groaned, pulling the word long. You began to bop you head up and down his penis, covering the parts, that didn't fit inside your mouth with your hands. Even though you gave him a little bit of relief, you weren't planning on giving him 100%, to keep the control over him.

,,Faster, baby. Faster" he moans lifting his hips up. Denying his wishes, you kept the same pace. As he didn't want to take any more of you teasings, he started to face fuck you himself, pushing his hips up and down over and over. You abruptly stopped, releasing his cock, eliciting a frustrated groan of him.

,,Don't do that again", you warned, sliding up a little. Bakugou silently followed all you movements, curious as well as exhausted. All he wanted was you to make yo scream his name, being able to release himself in you and go to sleep, but you made it so hard for him, teasing your way through his temper. As you pushed your thong to the side, his eyes lit up, sending a new load of dopamine through his body, ready for what was going to happened next. You grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip against your dripping wet core, spreading your juices between your folds. Teasing both of you with your movements, you started grinding your exposed sexuality against his, massaging your pulsating nerve bud. Groans and moans filled the room. As you leaned down, inches away from his face, his hot breath whipped your face sending goosebumps all over you body. His eyes were filled with the want to feel all of you, he needed you more than anything, so he pressed his lips on yours, closing the gap between you. He licked your bottom lip, requesting admission. Slightly parting your lips, you grant him inlet, feeling a courious, wet tongue exploring your mouth. Both of you fought for the dominance, with the result of Bakugou winning.

Fustrated, you pulled away, taking his member into you hand again, slowly sliding down on him, feeling every inch of him, filling you. Again, a song of moans and groans chimed, givin you a feeling of euphoria.

,,Oh, D-daddy", you sighed digging you nails into his chest, still covered with his shirt as you started to roll your hips on his cock. ,,Yes baby, grind on daddy's cock. just like that", he groaned in pleasure, watching the beautiful woman on him grinding herself on him to find her own pleasure like the naughty girl she was.

,,F-fuck! Faster", he begged ,,No.", you answered cold throwing your head back in pleasure while seductively biting your bottom lip, as you rubbed your aching pleasure pearl. Your moans sounded like music to Bakugou, wanting to fuck you harder to hear even more of it. He pulled his wrist, trying to break the handcuffs. You noticed his attempt on freeing himself and got nervous. Bakugou was definitely strong enough to rip those cheap handcuffs apart, making you wonder, why didn't attempt it earlier.

,,Stop, what are you doing?", you asked, still bouncing up and down on his cock. ,,What do you think I'm doing?", he shot back, constantly pulling on the handcuffs. ,,No, stop! It's my turn to fuck you til you cum. You promised!", you said as you stopped fucking yourself on him, afraid of him succeeding in breaking free.

,,Fuck that. Fuck all of that. Fuck the promises. Fuck you, loosing your control whenever I fuck you, so hard , that all. You can do is moan like my little slut!", he hissed, finally breaking the cuffs. You swallowed hard, as he send you a dark mischievous smile, causing goosebumps on your skin. Before you could react, he'd flipped you around, making you squeal, as he towered over you placing his hands left and right next to your head, making it impossible for you to escape.

,,So, who is in charge now?", he grunted. Shocked you didn't know how to react. You lost all your power over him with one snap turning back to your submissive mindset for him.

,,Why aren't you saying anything, babygirl? Is it your ego?", he kept provoking ,,You've been a very bad girl today and bad girls should get a fair punishment, shouldn't they?"

You didn't know what to say, until Bakugou flipped you on your knees with one hand movement. ,,I'm sorry, Katsuki!", you pleaded but in vain. ,,Uh uh, I don't wanna hear none of that shit. All I want you to do is to moan for me", he muttered low, the smile in his face audible. He was happy to be in charge again and taking what's his, as he should've done a long time ago. ,,Making anybody here beg is my job." He got off the bed and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. Not a second later you felt his hard cock ramming inside of your heat, unleashing a loud screech. Although you two had sex before, his length and thickness was always a lot for you to take in

You yelled out in pain and pleasure at the same time, as he began to relentlessly push in and out of you with no mercy. His grunts and groans making you feel hotter by every second. Bakugou arched your back and grabbed a full fist of your hair, pulling your head towards him. His cock endlessly ramming your vagina, increasing the amount of juices in your core.

Stickiness, moans, skin on skin clapping together. All of those were sounds together, sounded like his personal anthem from you to him. He relished to see you squirm but still enjoying yourself, due to his work.

Tears of pleasure rolled down you cheeks. His roughness and dirty words turning you on so much, to the extent of you feeling like you're going to explode.

,,Fuck, Katsuki...p-please c-can I cum?", you stuttered, as you felt a knot building up in your stomach.

,,What do think this is, baby girl? The welfare? Don't you dare cummkng until I tell you so and if you do...", he toughly rammed his dick inside of you, hitting your g-spot, as he listened to your content moan in response ,,I will fuck you even harder than this."

His words made your abdomen clench together. If he kept on dirty talking to you like that, you would definitely lose it all and cum before you could notice. Bakugou slowed his pace as he pulled himself out of you, causing you to whine at the emptiness he left.

He released your hair and flipped you on you back again, before kneeling down, placing his head between your soft thighs.

Breathing's echoed through the room, one heavier than the other.

,,Tch, thinking I will pity you after being such a bad girl is very dumb of you", he grunted, his breath cooling down your aching bottom.

He started to licking and biting his way down the soft flesh of you inner thigh, skipping the place you needed his affection the most, as he continued the same motions upwards on the other thigh.

,,Please, daddy!", you begged, impatient to finally feel his tongue on your core.

,,Please what?", he digged deeper. He drove yo nuts, knowing exactly what you wanted.

,,Please eat my pussy, til I beg you to let me cum", you whined almost crying as you couldn't handle the amount of arousal in your body.

,,So sumbissive", he grinned cocky, before he passionately began to make out with you lower body. You felt his tongue flicking and twisting around you clit sucking on your little nerve bud. Your body was burning due to excitement, setting you on fire. Bakugou pushed his tongue inside of you, drilling all your juices out of you.

You were a moaning mess. You grabbed his hair to get some hold pulling on his blonde spikes, causing him to grunt and sending vibrations against your core.

,,Oh, yes! That feels so good, daddy please don't stop!", you moaned heavily, unable to arrange you thoughts. It felt magical to you. The way he twirled and curled his tong inside of you, soon caused the knot to reappear in your stomach. You pushed your hips further in his face moaning for release.

,,Don't forget not to cum, baby girl", he muttered throaty, pulling you back into reality.

,,Katsuki, I can't take it anymore."

,,Do I look like I give a fuck?", he asked ironically, continuing to taste all of your sweetness.

,,Mmh, you taste so good", he whispered satisfied ,,but I really wanna cum inside of you today", he grinned, piercing his eyes through yours as he propped himself up, pulling your abdomen closer to him.

He inserted his length into you, grunting throaty. This time he gave you a little, to adjust before he started moving his hips.

He grabbed your wrist and pinned them left and right to your bed, looking you deep in the eyes.

The innocent shine in your eyes, being the engine of his hip movements, increasing his pace of fucking you.

,,Katsuki..." Your voice a quiet whisper, bouncing off of his skin as he hungrily pushed his lips on yours, making you taste your sweet angle dust on his tongue.

The kiss was more passionate and intense, being the last straw to push both of you over the edge.

He quickened his pace once more, continuously hitting you G-Spot. You tilted your head to the side as you moaned out of breath pleading for release.

,,Please can I cum, please daddy I can't take it any longer!"

,,Cum." As you heard the magic letters rolling off his tongue, you didn't hesitate, turning into a squirming, quivering mess under him, moaning loudly as your high rolled over you. Clenching around his shaft, you began to milk Bakugou, who came seconds after you, easing himself in you. He slowly rode out both of your highs, before he collapsed on top of you, burying his face on the crook of your neck. His length still inside of you.

,,Katsuki, the rag on the nightstand", you mumbled out of breath, signaling him to pass it to you.

He turned his head to the side and chuckled.

,,You really thought about everything, didn't you?", he asked as he wiped away the cum from your entrance.

,,Yeah, well almost. I forgot to calculate in your strength", you giggled as a cocky smile covered his face.

,,Just „the best in everything" things."

#mha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha midoriya #bnha todoroki #bnha deku #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #my hero academia #mha todoroki #mha izuku #my hero academy fanfiction #mha smut

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thisisthehardestthing · 4 years

Text

This Is The Hardest Thing - 4

Synopsis: A exchange student from the US in enrolled into UA when her father has to move to help with the increased crime rates in Japan. The final year of high school is a lot to handle, adding on top the class of 3-A and the trouble they get into will make for a wild ride.

Triggers: swearing, i think thats it.

A/N: Not in this one, but it’s about to get spicy real fast. Super short chapter

Tags: @aizawascumslut @whats-her-quirk @pnkcts (you liked my masterlist, so I hope you don’t mind me tagging you?)

Masterlist

CHAPTER 4

You and Bakugou were on a yellow couch in the break room, sitting as far from each other as possible. The smack to your chin had caught you off-guard, making you slip off your seat in the middle of class. The chair that followed your body caused a bang so loud, Present Mic had to look at his quirk support item to make sure it hadn’t activated. He’d quickly intervened once he realised it was, to no one’s surprise, Bakugou and the new girl butting heads. He was just going to reprimand the hot-tempered student, when he saw the thick black lined drawing of male genitals penciled in the notebook, balls and all. You remembered the red of the teachers face against the yellow blonde hair exploding upwards as he kicked you both out of the classroom for some reprimanding. He was more embarrassed than angry.

You sighed and leant an elbow on the armrest, pressing some ice against your face.

Todoroki had given it to you as you passed by his desk. It was wrapped in a tissue in order not to give you freezer burn, and you gladly accepted it as you were shooed out and ordered to wait in the current room. Your other hand picked at the material of the sofa. It wasn’t leather, yet it wasn’t canvas either, and you racked your brain trying to think of what it could be.

You tried to keep yourself distracted in this way, focusing on the cold water dripping down your wrist from time to time. However, you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes wandered over to the blonde porcupine. He was slouched down, hands shoved angrily in his pockets, jaw clenching over and over again. Unfortunately, you knew were definitely in the wrong this time. You should not have teased him with your quirk and so you shifted in your seat to face him.

“What?” He snapped as you opened your mouth. His eyes narrowed as his head whipped around to stare at you. Why the hell is he so infuriating? You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that your father would want you to stay ‘grounded’.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “for drawing a dick in your book.” He frowned, looking away from you and staring at the beige wall behind the matching couch that was opposite you.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry,” He spoke, voice carrying in the silent room. The ego behind his words made your blood throb in your ears. He’d been throwing insults at you since yesterday, and here you were trying to make amends first.

The door slid open as Aizawa walked in. His loose hair tumbled over his shoulders in a mess. He had that kind of sour expression like he’d woken up from a nap that lasted too long, and he was both dehydrated and pissed off.

“You two…” He began as he stood in front of both of you, behind the brown wooden coffee table. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in the tense air. He sighed and called your name. You sat upright, turning to face him attentively. While Aizawa may look like a mess, he commanded an authority beyond anything you would’ve expected from a man hidden behind bangs.

“Why did you draw this in Bakugou’s notebook?” He asked, pulling the notebook out from a pocket behind his back, opening it to show you the crude sketch. You wanted to tear the page out.

“He was being one.” You shrugged, giving Bakugou a side-eyed glare. He huffed.

“Was fucking not.”

“You kicked my chair!”

Aizawa let out a sigh.

“You were on my desk, shit-brain!”

You almost lost it, then, saying what was actually on your mind. You wanted to shout, but it came out soft, in such a small voice that almost wasn’t your own.

“You called me fat.” He froze, his frown of anger instantly disappearing as it was replaced with confusion. Even your teacher hesitated, not knowing whether to interject, before falling onto the couch behind him to lean forward attentively. Realisation flickered over Bakugou’s face as he remembered the early morning fight.

“No, I called you heavy. Not fucking fat.” He was laughing, gums baring to the world as the rumble exploded from his chest and filled the room. “I’m not a liar. You’re heavy as shit, look at you. Muscle is like, 10 times as heavy or something. Eijirou can tell you the exact fact.” You felt a blush begin to creep up on your cheeks. Your palm squished the soggy ice tissue, forgotten during all the commotion and the cold water ran down your wrist, cooling down your rising body temperature. You wanted to throw it at him. You wanted to hear the satisfying noise it would make when coming in contact with his cheek. You didn’t.

“Bakugou, you shouldn’t mention someone’s weight.” Aizawa threw the book onto the table, effectively silencing the laughter. “You also shouldn’t punch someone in the face.” Bakugou huffed in response, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was aiming for her hair.”

“You’re both suspended from class for the rest of the day, with cleaning duty.” Bakugou’s excuse came at the same time as Aizawa’s punishment. Your mouth fell open. Without leaving room for any rebuttal, your teacher stood up, took a final look at his students and walked out of the room.

You were on your way to the residences. Bakugou was stomping, hands shoved in his baggy pants as he walked a couple steps ahead of you. He didn’t even leave the front door open after he walked in. You blocked it with your toe before it shut, stepping into the empty common area.

A rough hand darted out at you, grabbing your uniform shirt collar and slamming your back against the door. He made you wince as his knuckle pressed into the bruise he left yesterday. He knew it, and dug just a little bit deeper. His red eyes bore down into yours. It made you wonder if he enjoyed the fact that there was a tangible mark under your shirt.

“You really piss me off.” Bakugou stated, voice low and menacing. His free hand planted firmly next to your head, potentially scorching the door with the smoke that had begun to filter out from between his fingers. He smelt like a campfire.

“Yeah, well, bite me,” you pried his fingers open as you kept his intense stare. He moved so that his arms were boxing you in, muscled forearms rippling near your ears. For a second, you thought he would. There was something indiscernible stirred in with his anger. It was the center of a blender, swirling together. It was hypnotising. You slowly placed one of your hands against the door behind you, finger tips spread, palm flat. You almost shivered when you felt the vast amount of energy rolling in waves through your skin, oscillating in your nerves and vibrating your bones. It was all encompassing, making your shoulder jump up with the sheer force of it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His face scrunched up, eyes darting down to see your hand against the door. “Oi, what the fuck are you up to!?” He tsk’d, pushing away fluidly and crossing his arms.

The second his palms left the wood, it’s hum returned to the normal dull pattern that chopped trees would usually give off. It felt empty, stagnant, . As dead as the door itself. Your fingers twitched as they ached to feel such power again. I want to touch him. You bumped the thought out of your head and curled your hands into a fist to subdue the itch. You thought about the ways your father taught you to keep a level head. That’s why wood had such a consistent vibration. Be like the wood.

“You’re the one that keeps picking fights.” You gloss over his quirk comment, straightening your school uniform to make a point. His eyes followed your hands. “I get it, we never established a clear winner in our sparring match, so we should do it now to get it over with.” Bakugou seemed like he was about to explode, but he nodded his head. His eyes darkened as he thought about it, tongue swiping across his teeth and under his lips.

“Fight rules?”

You were almost sorry to pass up the chance to make him land on his back again.

“Rock, paper, scissors.” You deadpanned. A frustrated growl erupted from his throat. His nostrils flared and instead of saying another word, he turned on his heels and stalked his way to the kitchen, slamming open the fridge. You could not help the snicker that escaped your lips. Worth it.

I guess I won this round. You mused, making your way to your room to begin replying to your fathers messages.

You had been talking to your dad for what seemed like hours. You spoke to him laying on your bed, sitting against your closet doors, spinning in your desk chair. Now, while he was finally reaching the conclusion in his speech of disappointment, you were standing on your balcony. You held the phone away from your ear as you lazily took in the details of the building opposite you. Your room was on the side of the dorms, and therefore, was face to face with someone else’s balcony across the grass. There were trees planted that should’ve obscured the view, but there was still a direct line of sight to a sliding door.

His voice rang out loud over the speakers, reprimanding that it was the second day of school, and how he did not raise you to continue unnecessary conflict. You continued to stare in the cool blue reflection of the window opposite you, eyes unfocused as Soil went on and on. Movement on the other side of the glass made you snap back to reality. You squinted to try and see through it, wondering who could be on the other side since it was… lunch time!? Shock coursed through your veins as you realised you’d been on the phone for 2 hours, listening to a one sided conversation.

“Dad,” you interrupted him mid sentence and his voice lulled. “Sorry, I know I—” The sliding door opened and the tall purple haired boy from this morning walked out, cradling something in his hands. Your words of apology forgotten on your tongue.

“Hm, beansprout, can’t hear you.” You brought the phone closer to your face.

“Just, I’m sorry.”

You heard your father let out his heavy sigh that told you the conversation was over. As you said your goodbye’s, Shinsou looked out across from his balcony, catching you with lazy eyes. He held your gaze with a smirk, slowly lifting up one of his fingers to his lips, zipping his mouth shut. Then he lifted up the other hand that was cupped against his chest. You could barely see it, but in his palm was a small black kitten.

***********

Soil tossed the phone back onto his desk with a clatter. Large, calloused hands wrapped around his forehead as he rubbed at his temples before pulling it down his face to scratch at his chin.

What am I going to do with that girl? He thought as he shuffled around the paperwork he was working on, going over what he wrote about the encounter with Giran.

It’s been two years since Shigaraki had disappeared, but the underground network of villains have seemed to surge in number over the last few months, tipping the balance of power ever so slightly. It was enough to bring out the worst in people, have them lose their faith and security they had once felt all over Japan. Soil knew he had to come back home when the influence had started reaching his part of the world, like an incessant hammer until cracks had started to form. He had to stop it at the source.

A knock on the wall of his cubicle interrupted his deep train of thought. One of the many sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency stood there, sheepishly grinning at the visiting hero. His thumbs were twiddling in the thick yellow gloves.

“It’s time for patrol, Soil, sir!” The sidekick snapped to attention. A polite smile graced the Hero’s lips as he pushed his hulking figure away from the desk. Soil nodded as he followed the younger man. The mental image of that hammer would not leave his mind, try as he might. He felt the same nagging feeling that something might happen soon, the same inkling on the night he spotted Giran.

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queen-rogah · 5 years

Text

Heartbreak Weather (part 1)

Roger Taylor x Reader

Series Summary: It's the story about the unexpected love between you and Roger Taylor that had lasted through thick and thin, through the challenges and darkness as you both find a way to prove that love is unbreakable...

In this part: Roger just broke up with his long-term girlfriend through the phone just minutes before his performance with the band, then in the same night, he never knew that his broken heart will recover again...

Warnings: language, mild fluff, mild angst

Word Count: 4.4k+ words

Note: First part of the Heartbreak Weather series coming thru! This is actually based from Niall Horan's new album called "Heartbreak Weather" wherein I will use the titles of the songs in the albums as the other parts of this series. Hope you're all excited about this as much as I do. Gifs are not mine, all credits to the owner!

PS. STREAM HEARTBREAK WEATHER BY NIALL HORAN, it's a great album, it's definitely worth a listen!

QUEENROGAH’S MASTERLIST

PART ONE: “HEARTBREAK WEATHER”

NOVEMBER 19, 1974 - RAINBOW THEATRE: LONDON, ENGLAND

They unloaded the trucks as the roadies rushes in and started pushes the different equipments they needed for the tour. The band also arrived on time for sound checks as they led them inside the theatre. They have their eyes locked on the lights around the stage and how spacious this place is. It's been days that the Sheer Heart Attack tour had started and their adrenaline during the tour is getting much stronger because of the people's energy inside the venue and how they sing right back to them the lyrics of their songs. Especially when the sophisticated melody of Killer Queen will play from Freddie's piano. The crowd will definitely go crazy.

After the soundcheck, the band made their way inside the dressing room to get ready for tonight's show. Different people also got inside the room to take care of them. Freddie sat by the corner to let them fix his hair, Brian also fixes his hair, Deacy and Roger were by the rack of clothes to look for their outfit tonight.

Then Roger found this golden vest that will definitely shimmer underneath those lights on stage.

"Roger, you're next!." Brian shouts from the other side of the room.

The drummer put the vest back in the clothes rack to make his way to Paloma, the band's new hair stylist who really have a huge personality.

"How are you Mr. Taylor?." Paloma spoke to him as she took her equipment and started cutting off the excess hairs out of his blonde locks.

"I'm fine love, and please...call me Roger, Mr. Taylor doesn't fit me." Roger replied and Paloma nods that him.

"Okay...Roger." She said as she fixed his hair, brushing it down and put on some hairspray. Paloma soon stood in front of the drummer to fix his hair up front.

Roger never stopped himself staring at her breasts just inches away from him.

"You're staring again Roger." Paloma chuckles as he tore his eyes away from her and put up a smirk.

"Can't help it love, it's right in front of me." Roger laughs and just in time Paloma finished fixing his hair. The drummer left the chair and soon took off his top and put on a robe.

He picked the black leather pants from the clothes rack as he finally changed. Deacy is also in a robe, next to Brian's red special, while Brian is lounging beside him with still the same clothes he's in when they arrived.

Roger borrowed a polaroid from one of the staffs as he played around with it

Roger borrowed a polaroid from one of the staffs as he played around with it. Taking different pictures here and there like Freddie getting his makeup done, Brian now standing in front of the mirror and Deacy on the couch. Roger sat down on the vacant space on the couch beside Deacy where Brian is earlier and put down the Polaroid as he let the bassist look at the pictures too.

A flash goes off in front of them as they look at Brian pointing the camera at the both of them, the guitarist soon showed them the picture. Only Deacy caught the camera but Roger didn't, he's too busy looking at those pictures in his hands.

Only Deacy caught the camera but Roger didn't, he's too busy looking at those pictures in his hands

"I'll keep these for my scrapbook back home. Maybe it'll make a good use in the future." Roger said as he also took the polaroid picture from Brian and put it inside his bag that is on the floor. He also reached over for a cigarette as he light it up with his lighter, inhaling the smoke to calm himself down.

"Ten minutes boys!." They finally announces.

The adrenaline came in again.

Freddie faces the mirror for his finishing touches, Brian also stood beside him as he fixes his hair. Deacy changed into his clothes while Roger finally puts on his vest. Brian had his guitar with him, Deacy also had his bass and Freddie is now warming up his voice.

The crowd of 3,000 people of the Rainbow Theatre awaits them again.

"Boys, let's have a mini rehearsal before we go on stage." Freddie told them as they huddle together in a small circle as Freddie started singing. Brian was playing his guitar to catch the melody.

"Roger," Paloma suddenly called him as he turn his look to her, "Telephone." She points on the telephone that's on hold as he approaches to the phone.

"Hello?." Roger speaks. There was silence at first, until he heard a sigh from the other line.

"Roger..."

That voice sends his heart into beating loudly in his chest as a smile appears on his lips.

"Reese, love, why did you call? Missed me already?." Roger teased her long-term girlfriend who's waiting on him back in the shared home with her.

"Yeah, I miss you...I really do." She replied back, but how she said that sounded sad or tired.

Roger noticed that.

"It's unusual to hear you in that tone of your voice Reese, is something wrong? Did someone hurt you? Did you–"

"–I'm fine Roger, it's just...I...I missed you, that's all." Her laugh was strained and sounded fake, and it feels like she's holding something back.

"Reese...you already know that I don't like you lying to me." Roger sighs, not believing on what his girlfriend just said.

He really wants to know the truth behind those words.

But she fell into silence again, like she did earlier.

Only the sound of Freddie singing and Brian strumming his guitar behind him is what he hears.

"Reese–"

"–Roger, I can't do this anymore." She sobs and Roger paused for a second as her words replayed in his mind.

"What...what do you mean you can't do this anymore? Reese, have you been drinking?..." Roger turned paranoid and the other's noticed his tone of voice changing as their noises died down.

"No, I haven't been drinking Roger and I'm telling you that truth that I really can't do this anymore. Aren't you even tired on our fights, our lives living together and even in our relationship. Aren't you already tired Roger?." She asked.

Her words broke the drummer's heart in pieces.

"I was never tired for you Reese because I love you so much. Even though I come home from a tiring tour and fight about something didn't made me turn my back to you. Unless you're just the only one who's turning your back on me. You're throwing away our relationship with just those nonsense words Reese. I love you and think of the words you've been saying." Roger pleaded.

"I'm tired Roger and let's accept the fact that we should part ways and respect our decisions–"

"–why? Is being with me is the biggest mistake of your life? Is moving in with me the biggest regret of your life? Or you're just too heartless about it?." Roger now angrily asked her and Reese was tongue tied for a second.

"I respect you so much Roger and I deserve your fury but you also have to accept that I'm breaking up with you..." Reese tried to calm him up but he was already angry.

"You're breaking up with me through the phone Reese! This is the most impractical thing you ever did! Why all of the sudden? Did you...met somebody else?." His voice shakes when he asked the last sentence.

She gave him the silent treatment again.

"Reese answer me." He commands.

"Yes, I've been seeing someone else Roger." She whispers, her voice so small but Roger heard her.

"For how long?." He asked. Tears were already forming around his eyes, he never imagined this time with her because he thought Reese was the one for him since they were dating for 6 years now.

"5 months." Reese sobs, "I'm so sorry Roger, I...I can't deal with this anymore, I felt like we’ve been parting ways even though we're blind to see it–"

"–no Reese, you're the only one who's parting it's way here. I'm holding on so much into this relationship because I loved you so much. I tried to change my ways for you because you want me to change up my habits, but turns out everything isn't enough for you. My love for you is never enough." The drummer replied to her as he hangs up the phone. He noticed the room being silent as he knew everyone was listening to his conversation with Reese.

"Are you...okay Roger? Did something happened between you and Reese?." Brian asked.

"I don't give a fuck anymore." He mutters and took his drumsticks before leaving the room without dismissing himself.

Three minutes before their performance and Roger is already pissed off, his excitement faded out after that phone call.

What a great way to start a fucking show.

...

"You promise you'll pick me up? Don't worry, I'll be paying for your drinks when we get there." You pace around the room while speaking to your bestest friend since highschool. Eleanor had been planning this night out for weeks now since she came back home from California for a year.

"I'm also bringing Kelsey and Cleo with us too, remember those girls?." She squeals.

Kelsey and Cleo. The girls you've known in Physics class in highschool. You remember them being the smartest people in that school.

"Yeah, I remember them. It's been years that I didn't saw them. Maybe the last time I was with them is the highschool graduation, since we all parted ways for college." You replied.

Eleanor, Kelsey and Cleo went to the same university, a very well-known university outside the city. Well, you stayed behind, enrolled to a university in the city and pursue in learning accountancy.

Now you're working in a small accounting firm that pays you well.

Enough to pay your own bills.

"Now I'm going to call them for this mini reunion. Wear the sexiest clothing you've ever hand in your closet right now then I'll pick you up by 8pm later. Bye Y/N!." Eleanor said as she finally hangs up.

You made your way towards your closet as you go through your clothes, pulling out some of the clothes you mostly wear in parties or social events, but one thing had made you stop when you finally saw it again here. It's the deep v-neck sequined top that you bought last year. You haven't used that top since you bought it and now you think this is the opportunity to wear it. For the first time.

Not caring about your insecurity.

You took the top and lay it on your bed, along with your high rise black denim flares and your old gold sequin pumps–that you managed to find in your shoe rack–and there's only an hour left for you to get ready before Eleanor would pick you up. You didn't styled your hair that much and just let it down, but you focused on your makeup. After all your work on your face, you look at yourself in the mirror–your eyes have been enhanced by the bronze eyeshadow and eyeliner, your contour brings out your cheekbones more–one last thing, you applied the strawberry flavored lip gloss, and now you’re good to go.

You put your planned outfit, even though you’re unsure about how much skin you’re revealing with the sequin top. Your back and cleavage on full display, hoping no creep will come up to you to where Eleanor will lead you. You look over to your clock to see it’s already 8pm, thinking that Eleanor will come up late again and that will take you some time to think if this outfit will be the one you’ll be wearing for the rest of the night.

Until you heard a loud honk outside your apartment.

Eleanor’s not late, very unusual.

So you just took your white fur coat and put it on, buttoned up to conceal your top that is already a small regret that you wore it. You grab your bag and left your place, Eleanor’s car is parked as her window rolled down, “Are you ready for tonight missy?.” Eleanor shouts from her car, not caring about your neighbors.

You step inside the car laughing to see Cleo in the backseat and Kelsey in the passenger seat beside Eleanor wearing their most fashionable and quite revealing outfits, “Hi guys, how are you?.” You sat beside Cleo as you put your seatbelts on. Eleanor finally drives away from the cul-de-sac and to where she will lead you all.

“Great! I don’t know if how many years that we haven’t see each other and now, you’re a view Y/N.” Cleo said as she also complimented you as you blushed a bit.

“–in short you’re hot Y/N.” Kelsey added in the conversation.

You truly missed these girls.

“Thank you ladies, you all looked beautiful too!,” You exclaim then soon look at Eleanor through the rear view mirror, “How about you El?.” You asked her.

“I’m doing great too because all that I’m thinking of that we are all getting shitfaced tonight.” She smirks at you through the rear view mirror as you took a deep breath.

Tonight will be a long night.

…

Everything is a mess to Roger tonight.

After that sudden break-up with his girlfriend, his mood and energy for the whole performance night went downhill and he officially lost it when the power went out–not once but twice in the venue earlier and the production team is pissing them off. Not just Roger, but also to the other boys. The whole band doesn’t feel like performing to the people tonight, so when the show has come to an end, Roger hits the last beat of the song on the drums and kicks off the drumset across the stage–good thing that Freddie saw what he’s going to do and immediately moved out of the way as he says his thank you to the crowd, he also pulled Deacy with him while he’s still bowing down for the people. They are all disappointed about tonight’s show, and Roger was disappointed, angry and heartbroken.

He already entitled this night the worst night of his life.

They got inside the dressing room again to dry up their sweat and change up into their comfortable clothes.

“Tonight’s show is a load of bollocks.” Roger said in anger while looking at himself in the mirror.

“It is, the power interruption really pisses me off.” Brian also said in pure irritation.

“And Roger, you almost killed me when you throw off your drums in the stage. Mind telling me a warning next time.” Freddie said to the drummer as he just heard him scoffed.

“But we still did our best for the show, I just don’t want for this incident to happen again.” Deacy added as he glares at Roger who’s already sitting on the couch while looking down on the floor–his brows furrowed.

The band fell in silence while they’re only hearing the chatters of the staffs outside the dressing room.

Freddie claps his hand as he stood up from the chair he’s sitting on, “I heard there’s a nightclub just blocks away from here–“

“–well then we’re going there.” Roger immediately replied as he also stood up from the couch.

Freddie widen his eyes at the drummer and let’s out a chuckle before calling the other roadies and staffs to come with them in the nightclub he’s talking about. They left the theatre and drive to where it is to see multiple people already in line to get inside the place–maybe some of these people just came from the show that’s why when they left the vehicle, they recognized them as they wave at their direction, calling out their names to get noticed–mostly women as they mostly call on Roger’s attention.

They let the band in without falling in line with the people as they were welcomed by the scent of alcohol in the air–maybe not just alcohol. The roadies that they invited managed to find a booth for the band to sit in. Freddie was eyeing a lot of people in the crowd, Brian was talking to some fan while walking to the booth, Deacy was also talking to a fan and Roger is already holding a drink that was given by a fan earlier. They gave them multiple drinks and drank it one-by-one, Roger planned to get drunk tonight, to get the heartbreak with Reese out of his head.

In just a matter of minutes in the club, Freddie was already enjoying himself in the dancefloor with Deacy and other people, then Brian was talking to a girl in the booth and Roger already have two good-looking ladies on his sides with their hands roaming around his body. The red-head is seducing him and the blonde was non-stop touching him.

Roger again ordered another round of shots with the ladies.

…

It’s been 20 minutes since you’re still in this line for the club that Eleanor took you all to. She said that this club has the best drinks and the strongest shots–she’s really serious about getting shitfaced tonight. The entrance is getting closer, then suddenly the people in front starts to cheer and heard them calling out some names but you don’t understand since they’re talking all at once. Eleanor, Kelsey and Cleo are also dumbfounded to what’s happening right now.

“Excuse me, can you tell what’s happening and why are the people shouting so loud? Is there a club fight?.” Eleanor taps on the girl in front of her as she turns around.

“Queen is here!.” The girl responds.

“Queen Elizabeth is here?.” You asked and Eleanor loudly laughed at your remark, the girl also laughed along with her.

“No darling, she means that the band named Queen is here. You know, the band that sang…I don’t know…Killer Queen I think?.” Eleanor said as you nod your head. You mentally cursed at yourself thinking about the Queen of England going to club like this. You’ve forgotten that there’s actually a band that calls themselves Queen.

“Oh fuck–I’m sorry I’m so stupid.” You laughed at yourself.

Eleanor accepted your apology as you talk about other things again while you’re still in line. Ivy–the girl you’ve talked to earlier already are comfortable with the three of you and she’s going to the club all by herself, that’s why you all adopted her in your group. When it’s finally your turn to get inside the club, Eleanor shouted fucking finally as you all stepped inside the club filled with people already dancing and drinking different alcohols. The humid of the room is making you uncomfortable with the fur coat you’re wearing but you still didn’t decide to take it off. Your self-confidence is still hiding. Eleanor took you all in the bar, ordering tequilas as the starter. She made a toast as you all brought your drinks up in the air and drank the tequila. It all goes on with more stories, gossips, drinks and round of shots. Kelsey and Cleo are already dancing in the dancefloor, Eleanor is talking to a man while you’re just watching the girls dancing to the music. Some men tried to give you free drinks but you’re thanking God nobody has ever pushed you to your limits. You just got free drinks and someone to talk to.

They also didn’t know how to flirt.

And if they did, you didn’t know how to flirt back too.

After all of those things, more and more people entered the club and beads of sweats are already forming in your temple as you wipe it away with some table napkins in the bar. The fur coat really is making you officially uncomfortable. Thinking now it’s the time to take it off.

Your fingers found the buttons of the coat as you want to take it off, but you were interrupted with Cleo’s drunken self walking back with some man you don’t know but they looked like good friends.

“There she is! Y/N, I want you to meet John!.” Cleo shouts through the blaring music.

He gave you small smile as you come up for a handshake, “Hi John, nice to meet you! I’m Y’N, as Cleo already said earlier.” You smiled at him as he shakes your hand.

“John Deacon, nice to meet you–“

You stopped as you heard him say his name, “–wait, are you from Queen?.” You guessed.

He chuckles and nod his head, “I am, I’m the bassist of the band, yeah.” He approves as you gape at Cleo who’s arm was wrapped around his own too.

“So uh, how did you two know each other? Cleo never mentions she knows somebody who’s famous.” You asked, feeling interested.

“Well, I met Deacy in college because we’re taking the same classes in electrical engineering course and we became close when he became my partner in a project.” Cleo responds.

You didn’t know Cleo studied electrical engineering in college.

“By the way, I’m not just here to introduce Deacy to you, he calls us to sit with them in their booth. The other members of Queen will definitely be there,” Cleo stops mid-sentence as she hiccups and laughed at herself. Even John laughed too, “I’m sorry about that, so, since you’re the only one who’s here and I don’t know where the fuck did the others go, you’re coming with us.”

You nod your head as you followed Cleo and John through the crowd and towards the other side of the room to where they are sitting. You saw people with them, also drinking a lot of shots and see the other members. You’re soon looking at Roger who’s still surrounded by good-looking ladies that are drunk. You’re still good but tipsy tonight, since you didn’t drank all of the shots that Eleanor ordered earlier. You only took the drinks that were mild.

“Deacy finally managed to find himself some ladies. Care to introduce them darling?.” Freddie asked as he sips on his drink.

“This is Cleo and this is her friend Y/N. I invited them to sit with us tonight.” John said and Freddie nods his head, letting them sit on the vacant spaces of their place. You were close to Roger with all the ladies around him as you didn’t stop yourself from looking at the sensual scene they’re causing, and one of the girls noticed your stare.

“Hey creep, stop with that stare alright? Dreaming that you’re with us?,” The girl looks at you from head to toe, judging your looks, “I don’t think so,” she devilishly smirked at you as she gets back in seducing the drummer, who’s soon kissing the other girl on his right.

You frowned at her remark as you glared at her, even though her back is facing you. She just gave you this rude introduction that leads you in standing up from the couch and finally unbuttoned your fur coat and took it off, in front of these people around you. The gold sequin top that reveals your skin was like true gold that made them stare at you. Cleo was in awe when you took your fur coat off.

“Y/N…I didn’t know you wore something like that! I mean look at you!.” Cleo praises as you blushed hardly.

“It’s getting warm in here, finally decided to take it off,” You replied. In the corner of your eye, you saw Roger staring at you as you just shrug it off, “I’ll be at the bar.” You said and left the booth, making your way towards the bar, ordering yourself a drink.

“So I guess you’re Y/N.”

You look over your shoulder to suddenly see Roger standing before you.

“Yes, I am Y/N, I didn’t think you’ll be listening back there with all the ladies around you.” You sassed him as he smirks at you. Liking your feisty side.

“I see that you’re watching.” He smirks, soon ordering his own drink as he drank it.

“I just looked–not watching.” You replied to him as you sip on your glass of daiquiri that you ordered earlier, your lips slowly gliding on the rim of the glass.

You didn’t notice that Roger was looking at you and down your lips that were touching the rim of the glass. He didn’t thought about be interested in you, but aside of those ladies that surrounds him earlier, you’re more than that. He thought that you were like a magic that just appeared out of nowhere in his life and you were quite a vision to him. He thinks that after Reese, his love-life would be nothing but experiencing a heartbreak weather and will never get better, but you walked in this club, introduced by Deacy and he feels you’re different, and he feels different when you’re already standing before him. It’s the same feeling when he met Reese when they’re both in highschool, but far more better.

“You’re quite interesting Y/N.” Roger said and you turn your look to him again.

“I’m surprised that I’m more interesting that those girls around you, what makes you think of that Roger?.” You taunt him, feeling your self-confidence going higher.

“Finally, you’re flirting with me.” The drummer chuckles.

You blushed in his words as you let out a chuckle, “I don’t think I’m flirting with you Roger.” You denied his words.

“What a shame because I wish you had been.”

___________________________

reader’s outfit in the club:

taglist: @peter-sue-the-management @beatlesdotcom

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor angst #queen band #queen fanfiction #queen fic #queen imagines #queenrogah's fic #freddie mercury #Brian May #John Deacon

67 notes · View notes

asarahworld-writes · 4 years

Text

all i want

Prompt: Be careful what you wish for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S

If she hadn’t had white hair, if monsters didn’t exist, if the moonstone had never fallen to Earth, if she wasn’t a freak dating a zombie…

“-then maybe you would have the picture perfect lives you want. I wish you could just be happy!” Addison yelled, turning away from her parents and swiping angrily at her watery eyes. What she needed right now was to get away, to be with Zed, but she knew that leaving at this hour would only make things worse. She looked at her watch, sighing with exhaustion. She’d see him in about five hours anyway.

Five hours spent restlessly trying to sleep, scrolling mindlessly on her phone, pacing her room, staring out her window at the full moon as the sky lightened – purples turned pink then orange as the sun rose, bathing the world in daylight. Six am. Addison got up, shivering as the covers fell away. She looked down in surprise… she didn’t remember changing into pajamas last night. She looked to see where her clothes from the previous day were...nowhere. The laundry hamper was filled with monochromatic pastels she hadn’t worn in a month.

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Shower first, figure this out after.

Addison let the water flow over her entire body, soaking in the warmth. She massaged the shampoo into her scalp, rinsed. She applied conditioner to the ends of her hair, easily combing through its mid-length strands. She frowned, looking at the hair twined through her fingers. Blonde. The exact same shade as her wig. The same length. Even the same texture. Odd…

She watched the water run clean into the drain and shut it off. Even if she didn’t wear it in public any more, her parents would still be seriously pissed if they found out that she’d ruined her wig by wearing it in the shower. Maybe it was salvageable. She reached up to take it off and frowned when she felt herself grab her own hair. She reached again and again, somehow, managed to miss the wig. Addison stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her body as to not drip all over the floor, and walked over to the mirror. It had fogged during her shower and she rubbed at it with the hand towel. Blonde. The wig still wouldn’t come off. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, so familiar and yet so strange. She pulled sharply at the blonde hair and winced in pain.

Addison reached out as if to touch her reflection, watching as it mimicked her perfectly. She looked into her own blue eyes, her brown brows, every feature she knew so well and then back to the foreign yet familiar blonde hair.

There was a soft tap at the door.

“Addison, dear, you don’t want to be late for school.”

Dear? Her parents might use informal pet names for each other, but never with her.

“Yes, Mom.” She pulled the blonde hair into a bow at the back of her head, picked up her bag and headed for the kitchen where a bowl of fruit was waiting for her. She ate without really tasting the food, grabbed her lunch money, and started walking.

Real blonde hair. Her clothes gone. Her parents were suddenly much more affectionate. Addison was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice arriving at school or even opening her locker. Focus, Addy. She grabbed her books for first period and looked at her watch. She’d must have walked faster than usual, class wouldn’t start for fifteen minutes. However, Zed was usually at the school early, hanging out with the guys or studying/chilling in the safe room.

She opened the safe room door and called his name. “Are you here yet?” Her voice echoed in the empty room and she turned to leave. The door sealed and she walked down the hall, alone, not noticing that the room wasn’t what she remembered.

Students filled the hallway and Addison’s heart skipped as her eyes landed on the tall, lanky football star that was her boyfriend. She easily made her way through the crowd, using her short stature to her advantage to get around the other students.

“Zed,” her voice cracked slightly, betraying her stress, and she froze, looking him over.

“Um, can I help you? I really don’t have time for autographs right now, but if you come back during free period I can hook you up.” With that, he started to push past her.

Without thinking, Addison grabbed his hand.

He whipped around, easily breaking her hold.

“Zed,” Addison looked him over, taking in the pink skin, dark hair, pastels. “What did you do?” Her brow furrowed in concern, her hand reaching out to touch his rosy face.

“Okay, why are you trying to touch me? Football stars are people too. Personal space much?” With that, Zed finally looked down at her, meeting her eyes. The dark circles perpetually under his eyes were gone, his face was full of colour, his skin even felt warmer. “Addison. I thought I told you not to do that in front of people. You know the deal. Date the football star, get a bit of the spotlight.”

“Zed, what are you talking about? I thought we didn’t care what people thought, remember? And I thought you were never going to mess with your Z-band again. What did you do?” She looked at him, black hair without the slightest tinge of green, skin that didn’t look like he was half-dead, and wearing perfect Seabrook colours.

“I haven’t done anything I’ve never done before. But if you’re looking for something different, find yourself a new boyfriend. I won’t have any trouble replacing you.”

Addison looked down, not wanting to let this… this person see her cry. “Where’s your Z-band?” Addison looked back up to Zed’s face, back to his empty wrist. She reached for him again, looking for any hint that he was about to lose control. There was none. In fact, he still looked far too human.

“What’s a Z-band?” He scoffed.

Addison felt her eyes well with tears and turned to leave, planning on finding Bree, when he caught her arm.

“If I let you leave like that, it’ll give people the wrong impression. Let’s go chill in the supply closet for a few minutes.” Not-Zed, still holding her arm, led her to the Safe Room. Or at least, what should have been the Safe Room. Instead of bunk beds and rations, the room was filled with cleaning supplies and a small first aid station.

Addison took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. “This isn’t right,” she whispered.

“Really? No shit it’s not right. I should be out there with the guys, not stuck in a closet with a mopey girlfriend. I thought you were supposed to be a cheerleader.”

“Zed,” Addison’s voice cracked, unable to look at the humanized person in front of her. “This isn’t right. This isn’t who we are. This isn’t who you’re supposed to be, something’s happened, something horribly wrong. But nobody seems to notice…” she couldn’t finish her thought.

“Notice what?” He was leaning against the doorframe, tall and dark, and…slightly intimidating. Who would have thought that Zed would have made a scarier human than monster.

“Everything’s changed,” she whispered brokenly. Not-Zed said nothing. “When I woke up this morning, my hair looked like this,” she held it up limply, “all blonde like my old wig. My parents…it was like something out of a movie. I come to school early and you’re this…this isn’t you, Zed, not at all.” She wiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall and continued. “No matter how much it hurts, my parents are ashamed of me. My hair is an unnatural white color and until now I’ve always worn a wig to keep it hidden. You’re still the star of the football team, but you’re not human, you’re a zombie. You… gar-garziga, Zed. The real Zed.”

The real Zed, the real Seabrook, her real parents, she just wanted everything to return to normal. This version of Zed, who apparently was tired of Addison being a clingy and vapid bitch, listened as everything poured out. The accident at Seabrook Power, the creation of zombies, their first meeting, football, the cheer championships.

“And all that just ‘changed’ this morning?” Not-Zed scoffed. “Things don’t just change overnight because you say ‘I wish’, Addison. Not even for a cheerleader.”

“But they did,” Addison whispered, broken. “This isn’t right, any of it. This isn’t who we are.”

“So how did it happen? I told these floozies I wish you’d just leave me alone, several times a day, and yet that never happens.”

Whether not-Zed actually cared to know or not was irrelevant. “It was about one a.m. I had a huge fight with my parents. I said a bunch of things I knew they hated about me and said that maybe if none of them existed, that they could be happy. If I had normal hair. If monsters didn’t exist in this town. Stuff I said in the heat of the moment. And somehow, it all came true the next morning.”

“In your version of the world, monsters exist?” Not-Zed said incredulously. “And I’m one of them.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“In your world…Zoey was at the cheer championships last year.” Not-Zed finally looked at her, his eyes hard. Addison nodded, swallowing hard.

“She started how monsters finally became accepted in Seabrook. There was only half a squad left and they were falling apart. Zoey went on stage and started cheering herself.” Addison smiled at the memory. “Most of the zombies in attendance joined us onstage and we might not have won the championship for the first time in fifty years, but we were united.”

Not-Zed didn’t say anything for a long time. He lifted his head and said hoarsely: “My sister died when she was born, with my mother. I’ve never told anybody about her before…her name was Zoey.”

“Zoey is the little sister I never had. She wants to be a cheerleader more than anything and she loves dogs. She had a stuffed dog called Zander and at the end of last year, I got her a real dog. A small dog with long white fur she named Puppy.”

“I don’t know how you found out about Zoey, but this is the dumbest prank anybody’s ever pulled. Who set you up?”

“No,” Addison said brokenly. “Zed, I’m not making any of this up, I swear. I know Zoey, I love her like she was my own sister. Monsters are real in Seabrook. They’re zombies, you’re a zombie. And we’re… gar-garziga, Zedka.”

Addison’s heart shattered when he spoke again.

“Is that gibberish supposed to mean something to me? We’re through, Addison.” The finality of his statement hit her in a wave of emotions as he left the closet.

Addison left school early, telling the nurse she’d gotten her period and felt nauseous. The nurse agreed to send her home, noting that the walk might do her some good in relieving the symptoms. Unfortunately, the walk back passed quickly and she was home.

She let herself in and practically collapsed against the door.

#zeddison #zombies #disney zombies #badthingshappenbingo #all i want

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duker42 · 5 years

Note

May I request a Levi x S/O Modern!AU where Levi, Petra & the reader are all actors so on set Levi pays more attention to Petra and while playing a scene sth happens to Petra (she breaks her leg/hand/etc) and the moment the reader tries to help Levi shouts at her which is why it breaks her heart so badly. She runs into rain leaving everybody. Levi regrets it and they come back together somehow. I would love to read the full ansgt/fluff and then smutty scenario 😁

***Sorry it took so long...This one was a bit difficult for me. But I hope you enjoy!

*****Warning*****NSFW

💜Not Acting💜

Y/N watched as they ran through the scene again. Petra managed to miss her mark again. She growled out in frustration. Scenes involving Levi seemed to need twice as many takes as ones that didn’t involve her boyfriend.

Y/N wasn’t blind, she could see the adoring looks Petra threw his way when she thought no one was looking. The “innocent” touches and the flirty laugh as she endured another one of Levi’s jokes. Levi thought he was funny, not too many other people did.

What really pissed her off was he didn’t seem to mind the petite ginger haired woman’s fawning. She had enduring him rolling his slate grey eyes when she mentioned her issues with the up and coming actress.

They were behind schedule. The film should have already been in post production, but the script changes and retakes were mounting as the days went by. Y/N sat while her makeup artist touched up her look and reset the finishing powder. After two hours of watching Levi and Petra go through the same scene, it was finally time for Y/N’s scenes to be shot.

Having studiously choreographed the scene and attending each of her stunt classes, Y/N knew that she was prepared. Petra, she wasn’t so sure. She had never actually blocked out the sequence with her, even though the fight scene involved her. Levi had been present, but for some reason Petra always need private sessions with the stunt coordinator.

While the set team worked on resetting the room, Levi and Petra chatted, the former barely acknowledging when Y/N walked up to them.

“Hi, Y/N, Levi was just telling me the most amazing story about his trip to Bora Bora last year!” Petra’s smile had just a tinge of bite to it. Y/N seethed, of course, she wouldn’t be so damn cocky if she knew that Levi was with her during that trip.

Notoriously private, Levi and Y/N had kept their romance in the shadows. Unwilling to have the paparazzi hound them for photos night and day if word of their relationship broke. Although, lately, she had been wondering if that wasn’t a mistake. It would certain keep people like Petra from trying to instigate an onset fling with the man she slept next to.

~~~~~

Five grueling hours later, Y/N’s patience was at its limit. Petra was unprepared and every scene had retakes called for. She was tired, hungry and a little annoyed at how willing Levi seemed to be in helping the younger woman. When action was finally called, Y/N grabbed Petra’s arm and twisted, just like the scene had called for. Except the amber eyed girl had not moved her body like she was supposed to. A loud pop was heard throughout the studio and loud cries of agony came from the girl as she clutched her arm and dropped to the floor.

Dropping to her knees, Y/N reached for Petra. While she might have been annoyed at her, she had never wanted to actually injure the girl. Dramatic to a fault, her eyes widened and she backed away as if Y/N was actually trying to hurt her further.

Levi rushed to Petra’s side, his eyes narrowed in anger as hot words spilled angrily from his mouth. “Get the fuck back! Haven’t you done enough?”

She gaped in agony, Levi had never spoken to her like that before. She turned and ran from the building, tears flowing from her eyes as she ran out into the rain.

~~~~~

Levi was pissed. This girl had caused another production delay. He was extremely cranky and needed a hot cup of tea. When he had seen how unprepared she was to shoot the scene he had tried to reason with the director to no avail. All he could possibly do was try and give the annoying girl as much help as possible along the way. When he heard the pop as her shoulder dislocated, he was unreasonably pissed at Y/N for causing the next issue they would have to deal with.

After the on set medic had come up to Petra to begin assessing her, Levi looked around for Y/N. He owed her an apology. It wasn’t uncommon for tempers to run high on set, but he had never snapped at her like that. He felt a little uneasy when he didn’t see her in her normal chair. Walking over to it, he spotted her cell phone sitting the in cup holder.

Her assistant was walking by and Levi grabbed her sleeve to catch the girls attention. She might know where she was, even though she spent most days next to the buffet table.

Sasha, where is Y/N?”

The girl swallowed the disgustingly large bite of the sandwich she was holding before she answered. “I don’t know, she ran out crying after Petra was hurt.”

“Shit.....”

~~~~~

Y/N walked in the rain. Her stage make up running down her face, her hair limp and wet. Her tears had finally stopped, and she just felt numb.

Stopping at the little pond used for filming romantic scenes, she sat on a bench by the water, letting the rain fall on her.

That’s were Levi finally found her, running around the studio searching for her. He had really begun to panic when she had not been in her trailer. But then he had remember that she always loved sitting by the pond.

Approaching her cautiously, he sat down beside her as she continued to stare out at the water. He hated seeing the red rims around her eyes, the trails in her makeup that were carved out by her tears before the rain had touched her. Hated his words were the cause of her grief.

“Go back to Petra.” Her words were small as she wrapped her arms around her torso.

His eyes widened. She thought he was falling for the girl? She believe that his anger was due to him having some sort of feeling for her rather than the annoyance of having another delay? He realized all the time he had spent trying to bring the girls acting skill up to par could have been misconstrued as some sort of infatuation. He had to convince her that it wasn’t true. Levi, the man, only had eyes for Y/N.

“No, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was upset that brat was causing another production delay. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” He turned her head as he spoke, making her look into his eyes. He saw the indecisiveness in her face, she wanted to believe him, but didn’t dare to.

Pulling her to her feet, he marched back towards the trailers, his grip on her wrist tight. He was going to prove to her that she had nothing to worry about.

~~~~~

The steam rose up from the shower as he removed her last bit of cover. Tossing her bra onto the floor, he drank in the sight. Moving her back under the warm spray of water, he ran his hands over her chilled skin.

Cupping her breasts in his hands, he begins to articulate exactly what he feels. “These breasts are perfect. They fit so nicely in my hands. Your nipples are so sweet and responsive when I suck on them.” Leaning down, he draws a taunt peak into his mouth, giving it a harsh pull as his hands wander.

“This stomach. I can’t believe how perfectly toned yet soft it is.” Soft strokes to her skin set her body on fire as his words wash over her.

He grips her hips in his hands harshly, pulling her against him. “These hips, fuck.....You have curves that other women dream of. I love watching these hips move, especially when you’re walking away and I get to see that ass.”

He moves to kiss her neck as he lifts her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You thighs fit around me so perfectly. I love being in between them.

He ground his length against her. “This....this is the only place I ever wanted to be. In your arms.” Kisses her deeply, he pushes himself inside her velvety core. He groans in satisfaction at having her around him, and enjoys the low gasp coming from Y/N.

He begins to move, slowly. Every thrust accompanying another thing he loves about her. Her hips move in tandem with his as he holds her against the wall. Her hands woven into his hair, tugging on his raven locks as he continues to his loving assault on her body.

Her sudden intake of breath and stiffening of her body let him know she had come, the wave of hot liquid surrounding him. His pace quickened, needing to find his own release as the feel of her around him and against him drove him to the peak. Pressing her into the wall harder, he grunted out her name as his body was overtaken by pleasure.

Stilling, he held her against him for long moments before he would set her down. Holding her head between his hands, he gave her another passionate kiss.

“I’m not acting now, Y/N. I love you.”

Mobile MasterList

#captain levi #levi ackerman #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #moder au #levi modern au #levi heichou #captain levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi x reader

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nctzendreamz · 5 years

Text

NCT Dream: They Make You Feel Unwanted

“This is so cute, could you do this for nct dream too? Really liked it, especially because it was rather long 💕💐”

<33333

Renjun:

Lately, Renjun wanted nothing more than to be alone. He was so tired of being mistreated and not being able to fight back, and he just needed time to meditate. Of course he saw you constantly blowing up his phone trying to make sure he was okay, and any other day it would make his heart soar, but not today. He really wasn’t in the mood.

An hour had passed when the doorbell rung. He knew the other boys had ordered food, so he figured he could get it. When he saw you on the other side of the door, he didn’t even move. “What are you doing here?”

“Well...I was worried about you. You weren’t responding to my texts and I just-

“Everything isn’t about you, Y/N. For once can you just leave me the hell alone? I’ve already been through enough. I don’t need you annoying me too.” He shut the door, not caring about how you felt.

When he turned around, he saw Chenle behind him. “You didn’t have to do that.” He said.

He did feel bad, but he meant what he said about wanting to not be bothered. “Whatever.”

As another hour passed, the guilt began to intensify, so he decided to text you.

Y/N, I shouldn’t have said all of that earlier. I know you were just trying to check on me. I just really need to be alone right now. I’ll be okay.

[[MORE]]

Jeno:

The two of you were currently hanging out with your group of friends. In reality, you didn’t want to be here as you told Jeno earlier you weren’t feeling good, but he begged.

Now here you were, knowing you should be in your bed, so of course you didn’t look happy.

“Could you at least try to look happy? I don’t want everyone to think you have a bad attitude.” He snarked.

Without words, you got up taking the keys and going home. You didn’t care if he was stranded. Pissed couldn’t even describe how you felt.

It didn’t take him long to come back home, creeping into your room. “Baby...”

“Don’t.” You said, voice hoarse. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then just listen.” He kneeled down, grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry. You told me that you didn’t feel good, and you still sacrificed and went just to make me happy. I shouldn’t have said that at all. It was stupid.”

“Do you actually mean that, Jeno? Or are you just saying it.”

“Of course I mean it.” He was up now, crawling in bed with you.

You stayed quiet, allowing him to cuddle up behind you.

“Rest.” He whispered.

Jaemin:

Before you and Jaemin started dating, he kind of had a reputation of being a little flirtatious. Obviously when you became his, this stopped. Well, you thought it did.

As you stared at him making some girl laugh to the point she was crying, jealously wasn’t the word. You could leave, or you could try to join the conversation.

“Hey.” You said, hugging him from behind and looking the girl right in the eye.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” He said camly, barely giving you a reaction.

“You promised you’d dance with me, and here you are.” You laughed, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Do you need me to do everything with you?” He was completely joking, but you didn’t feel that way. You stormed off, going to the dance floor and finding someone who actually cared.

As you danced, the guy began to get a little close. Suddenly you felt someone snatching you up.

“What the are you doing?”

“I should be asking you the same question.” You said in a snarky tone.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Why not?” You challenged with a smirk.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards the exit. “Come on.”

“Where are we going!” You drunkenly wined.

“Home.” Was all he said angrily

Chenle:

Lately, your boyfriend had been feeling homesick right under your nose. I mean, he was always homesick, but it was really hitting him lately.

“Chenle, lets go somewhere this weekend.” You said over the phone.

“Yeah.” He said dryly.

“Maybe we can go to the zoo? We can try to feed the baby tigers!”

“Yup.”

“Why do you sound like that?”

“Do you ever think about how I feel?”

“What do you mean? Of course I do.”

“Obviously you don’t because you can’t see that I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” He hung up the phone.

I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone. Just text me when you want to talk.

He didn’t respond.

Jisung:

Jisung always had a hard time trying to decide when to spend time with you, and when to spend time with his boys. He was in high demand and he was always stressed.

He had came up with a plan, deciding that he would spend a whole bunch of time with his friends, so that during his real time off the two of you could be together everyday. Except he didn’t tell you about his plan, so it looked like he hated you right now.

“Do you want to break up?” You called and asked one day.

“What? No why would you think that?”

“Well you’ve been avoiding me. You spend all your time with the boys.”

“If I told you that I had a whole plan, would I sound ridiculous?” He would explain everything to you frantically.

Now you were laughing “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

#nct dream #nct #nct reaction #nct dream reactions #nct masterlist #renjun #jeno #jaemin #chenle #jisung

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 5 years

Text

Wishes

Summary: It’s the birthday of the reader, and she only has one wish.

Characters: Sam, Dean, Gabriel (Mention),Sister!Reader

Fandom: Supernatural

Word Count: 3926

Prompt #25: I just want a nice, easy life. What’s wrong with that?”

A/N: It was written for the #luluk4kwritingchallenge for @holylulusworld I hope you like it!

A/N 2: This is my first fic ever, so any comment on what to get better are welcomed. This fic is inspired in “The french mistake” episode. Also, I started writing this on my birthday, and is the way I pictured it. Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistake, English is not my mother tongue but I did my best.

The guys and Y/N were coming back in Baby from an easy hunt, just salt n burn, but Y/N was really exhausted that she fell asleep immediately. When they arrived at the bunker, Dean woke Y/N and he helped her to get to her room.

Y/N was really tired, not only physically, but also mentally. She wanted to give up, she needed a break, she had spent her whole life doing it, and she was getting tired. After saying goodbye to her brothers, she went to her room to get some rest.

It was getting harder to get some sleep after a hunt, so she started to write everything in a journal, like the one that they use that John, her father wrote, but this journal wasn’t nothing like the one that John wrote, this journal had her feelings, her thoughts, everything that she went through her life. Usually, she wrote in it at night, when she was alone, because she preferred writing than speaking to either of her brothers, it was easier. This night was not different at all, she was writing about the hunt, about the cheap motel where they stayed, about Dean and his love of junk food and pie, about the morning runs that Sammy did, and the most important thing for her, that day was her 25th birthday, and she was upset, because neither of her brothers remember it, and because she expected to at least enjoy that day as a normal person would do. But she knew that something that simple like celebrate a birthday it’s impossible.

That night, before going to sleep, she went to the kitchen to drink some water, when she had a quick encounter with Sam. They had a different relationship than the one she had with Dean. Sam had something with her that with only seeing her he knew what was going on with her. Sam notice immediately that Y/N was off, and he knew exactly what was it. Before leaving Y/N alone in the kitchen he asked “Are you okay? “

“Yes.” Y/N said – “Why?”

“You seemed a little off today during the hunt Sam said. “

Before answering, she consider if it was the best telling Sam the truth, eventually he was going to find out, like he always did, but before thinking she said “I just want a nice, easy life. What’s wrong with that?”

Sam was surprised; he didn’t know that, actually he didn’t expect that answer. He approached to Y/N and he gave her a quick hug before saying something. He took those minutes to think what to say.

“I know you’re tired, and I know that you never had the chance to have an easy life. I never had either, but this is what we do. It’s not normal, but there’s nothing wrong to what you want” Sam said. Y/N looked at his brother with tearing eyes when she snapped.

“This life, our lifestyle sucks. I never had the chance to go to parties with friends, because there was always a hunt, there was always something more important than our lives. I never spent two months in the same school. I never had the chance to have friends, real friends. I never could do anything. And now, that I’m grown up, I can’t even go to college.” She said, and added “You probably wouldn’t understand because you came back to Dean and Dad, and never left. Although you said that you would never coming back after you left”.

Sam was hurt, but what Y/N was true. He didn’t know what to say, and because he didn’t answer and was staring at Y/N, she left the kitchen saying “I wish I had a chance to change everything and not living this life, because it sucks”.

Sam went to Dean’s room to talk to him about what happened with Y/N. Sam explained everything “Look man, I think we screwed it. Y/N is really pissed and she has every right to be it. You know what day is today? - Sam asked. Dean hesitated but he didn’t answer.

“Today is her birthday, she turned 25 and we didn’t even congratulate her. We were more worried about this crappy ghost than her.” Sam said.

“We have to make it up for her” Dean said. “Tomorrow we are going to do everything she wants. It’s at least what we can do for her. She deserves it” Dean added.

“We can’t wait until tomorrow, Dean. Her birthday is today and she is pissed off” Sam said. “I’ll see what I can do. In the mean time, go and buy something to her”.

Y/N was in her bedroom, crying, but those tears weren’t because she was sad, she was upset. Neither of her brothers remembered her birthday, none of them said anything. They spent the whole day together and they didn’t say a thing. She needed someone to talk but she didn’t have any true friend she could trust about her life. Y/N, also thought about calling Cass, but it wasn’t the best because he was going to talk with the boys and they didn’t need to know. So, Y/N had one choice left, and that was Gabriel. They had been best friends for a while now, they had a really great bond, and she really trusted him.

She didn’t even have to think about calling him that he was with her by her side, hugging her.

“What’s going on love?” Gabriel asked concerned. “Why are you so upset? Is it because of your birthday?”

Y/N didn’t answer; she was trying to calm herself in the arms of her best friend. “What did they do to you? Gabriel asked firmly. Y/N took some minutes to thought about telling him or not what had happened and before she could realize, she was telling him everything.

“I know today is your birthday, and I know that today is a special day for you because, as you said it before, it’s the only day where you can be “normal” like the rest of the world. But you need to know that YOU are special every day, and you don’t need to have a “normal” life like the rest of the world, because your life is special because YOU make it special. You have to understand that love”. Gabriel said to Y/N, getting too emotional for the first time since the day had started. Sam & Dean approached to her bedroom with a cake and some gifts for her, but they got shock when they saw Gabriel there with her, holding her in a tight hug.

“We didn’t know you had visitors tonight Y/N/N. I didn’t see him coming” Dean complains. “Back off Dean. Don’t be a jerk. It’s her birthday today; she can have anything or anyone.” Sam said to Dean. They gave Y/N her gifts and they made her blow the candle so she could have the three wishes.

Sam could figure out one of the wishes that Y/N was going to ask because of the conversation they had earlier. He wanted to make sure that Y/N understood that it’s was difficult what she was asking for. It was too risky, they managed to keep her under the radar for most of her life, they didn’t want to cause any troubles to her, and so the best was to keep her under the radar the most.

Y/N was tired because of the hunt, so her brothers left the room quickly so Y/N was able to rest a few hours at least. Sometimes the simple hunts were the worst, they were really exhausted. Gabriel stayed with Y/N on her bedroom until she fell asleep. Y/N said one thing to Gabriel, not paying attention because she was practically fully slept, so, she didn’t register what actually said and to whom. “I wish we could have a normal life like the rest of the world just for one day.” Y/n said before falling asleep completely. Gabriel was worried about her friend and he knew he needed to prove her that what he said earlier was true.

Y/N woke up, grabbed her phone and went to the kitchen to have breakfast with her brothers. She decided to forget what had happened the night before with her brothers about the whole birthday thing; she wanted to make sure that they had understood that she was just having a difficult time. When she got to the kitchen, she saw that Sam was making breakfast wearing a suit.

“Nice outfit” Y/N said.

“Ha Ha. Very funny. Always the same joke” Sam replied. “It’s getting a little too obvious, you are making it every day to either me or Dean, you’ll have to find a new one” Sam told you while giving you your breakfast.

“Why are you still on your pajamas? You are supposed to be ready, you are going to be late for college” Dean scolded. Y/N didn’t say anything; she was not able to understand what was going on. Dean & Sam stood in front of her, looking at her with worried faces.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked “You don’t seem fine” he added.

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” Dean asked.

Y/N was speechless; she didn’t know what to say. Everything was so confusing that the only thing she could say was “Is there a case, right? You are only making fun of me because of last night”

“Stop joking Y/N! Finish your breakfast and go change! We’re already late!!” Dean said angrily.

After some minutes and without any trace of Y/N, Sam went to her room to see if she was ready. “Sweetheart, are you ready? You’re going to be late for your class” Sam said to Y/N. Because he didn’t get any answer, he decided to enter the room. He found Y/N lying on her bed; it looked like she was sleeping. “Y/N/N, are you okay?” Sam said approaching to the bed, “Do you feel fine? What’s wrong? Sam insisted but he got no answer. Sam left the room, and went to find Dean.

“Where’s she? It’s already too late!” Dean said frustrated.

“Y/N is not coming with us.” Sam answered; “She is still in bed; it seems that she had fallen asleep again. I’m staying with her today. I think she is getting sick” Sam said to Dean.

“She can’t skip school again” Dean said to Sam. “I know” Sam said “but she seems not t be fine. I rather be here with her, and not sending her to school and then have to pick her up in the middle of the day.” Sam said rationally to Dean.

Sam went to his bedroom to change his clothes and Dean went to work. After changing to more comfy clothes, Sam went to check on Y/N to see if she was better.

“Kiddo, you good in here?” Sam asked before entering the room. He saw her the same way she was a few minutes ago, something was different in Y/N, he could tell and he needed to know what was it. Y/N didn’t move from the bed when Sam entered; she pretended she was asleep so he wouldn’t bother her. She notice that her bed sunk in, and two strong arms holding her.

Sam was holding her, he didn’t know what was going on with her, but he felt that holding her was what she needed. “You know you can talk to me, right? Dean was being a jerk today, don’t worry about him” Sam said to Y/N, trying to make her feel safe.

They stayed in that position for what it felt like hours, Y/N decided to move, Sam released her a little so she could get a little more comfortable in the bed. Y/N knew that Sam was there, but she didn’t say anything. “What’s going on sweetheart?” Sam said worried.

Y/N moved from Sam’s grip to get a better view of him and said “I don’t get it. Last night you were worried about me. Dean got a little upset to me during the hunt, but today you two seem that you don’t remember anything”.

Sam looked at her confused and said to her “What are you talking about Y/N? What hunt?”

Y/N sat on the bed to be in front of him. “Come on Sam, that ghost we hunt yesterday. It was just salt and burn. Something simple we could do with our eyes closed” Y/N said to Sam, she was getting annoyed by all this “confusion” that her brothers were having to her.

“Babe, there is no such a thing as ghosts. They are just Halloween stories” Sam said. “Probably was a night-“

“So, why are we living in this bunker and not in a house, like regular people?” Y/N cut off Sam.

“We are living here, because this place belonged to our grandfather, and to his grandfather before him, this place belongs to the Winchester.” Sam said

“It’s our legacy, I know that.” Y/N said while rolling her eyes. “I need some fresh air. I can’t be here anymore”. She added, while leaving the room. “Wait for me Y/N! I’m coming with you!” Sam yelled from the bedroom so Y/N could hear him before leaving.

Sam and Y/N were outside of the bunker walking around. “So… why were you wearing a suit this morning if there wasn’t a case?” Y/N asked intrigued.

“Well… Actually, with Dean we are working in a case. I don’t know if that’s what you meant, but…” Sam got interrupted by one of the neighbors.

“What was the case about? You know who that is?” Y/N asked a little distracted because of what had happened.

“Sweetheart, you know that we don’t discuss our work with you. That person is one of the workers in the supermarket where I bought all the crappy food, like Dean likes to call it. Everything is fine?” Sam answered and noticed that something has caught Y/N attention.

“Why? Am I not part of the team? I have every right to know about the case. How am I supposed to help you with research if I don’t know?” Y/N said angry- “I’m fine, it’s that I think I saw something weird. Never mind”.

“You know why Y/N. We know that you are part of the team, but not right now. You have to focus first on finish your degree so then you can start working with us. It’s not fair if we give you more work besides all the work you have for college. You need to understand that” Sam said when he realized that Y/N was behind him looking at nowhere. Definitely something was into her, because she was too distracted. “Hey! Y/N! Come on up!” Sam hurried Y/N. “Did you listen what I said?” Sam asked concerned.

“Yeah. And I don’t get it. Why do I have to wait? Why is so important to you though?” Y/N asked pissed off because of what her brother had just said.

“We both are lawyers with Dean, and if we make you work without your degree would be illegal, besides you are only on your second year, and I don’t know why, but this year you are far behind with your classes and your grades. Something is going on with you and you are not talking” Sam said; he was tired of your behavior. “Let’s go back to the house and we keep talking with Dean as well.” Sam finally said breathing out more calmly, when he noticed that Y/N was no longer by his side, and she was out of sight.

Sam rushed to the bunker “Come on Dean… Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Sam said waiting for an answer from Dean; he didn’t get any response from Dean. When he entered the bunker he saw Dean in the library searching for something. “Hey! Have you saw Y/N? I think she might have a book that I need” Dean said to Sam; “I don’t know where is she, Dean.” Sam said upset.

“What?” Said Dean pissed off- “How this is possible that you don’t know where is is she?” Dean was really angry.

“I don’t know man, one minute she was with me and the other she was out of my sight. I don’t have any idea where she might have gone” Sam said trying to be as calm as possible.

“What did you say to her? Clearly it was something that pissed her off” Dean said blaming his brother.

“We were talking about us wearing suits this morning, about why we don’t tell her anything about the cases we work, why she is not working with us yet and…” Sam stops talking.

“And what?!” Dean yelled at Sam; “Sammy come on! What did you say?” Dean asked a little more calmly.

“I told her about her grades and that she was skipping too many classes” Sam finally admits

Dean looked at Sam worried, because his little sister was missing, and frantically, they didn’t have any idea where she could be. “I’m going to track her phone. I need to know that she is fine” Dean said, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“You know what is odd; this morning she told me that last night we went to a hunt the three of us.” Sam remembered the anecdote that Y/N told him.

Dean stopped what he was doing to look at his brother surprised. “Us? In a hunt? What we were hunting?” Dean asked with curiosity.

“Ghosts. Believe it or not, that’s what she told me” Sam said laughing at Dean’s face of confusion.

“There is no such a thing as ghost. They don’t exist.” Dean said to Sam while tracing Y/N’s phone on the computer.

“That’s what I told her.” Sam said to Dean.

“Well, this is weird.” Dean said to Sam pointing to the screen where Y/N’s phone was located.

“Where’s it? Sam asked “I don’t recognize the place” Sam admitted.

“It’s the cemetery near here. Why is her phone there?” Dean said grabbing his car keys.

“I don’t know man, but we need to check it out” Sam said following his brother.

Y/N was with a person in the cemetery that she followed when she was walking with Sam. That person looked like Gabriel, her best friend, but I wasn’t him. She had a feeling that something was different in the whole place, like she was in a different alternative.

Sam and Dean found Y/N near a grave; they approached her with caution, they didn’t want to scare her. Dean sat next to her; she looked at him with a sad face. He could tell that something had happened to her when she was alone. “It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it, but let’s go home its getting dark” Dean said hugging her and tossing the car keys to Sam.

The trip back to the bunker was silent, Dean never left Y/N, he had an arm around her to let her know that everything was fine. When they arrived to the bunker, they went to the library to speak with her; Y/N was willing to do it.

“Why did you leave me Y/N? I was so worried about you.” Sam said with those puppy eyes he makes.

“I thought that I recognize someone, so I followed to the cemetery, but I was mistaken. I’m sorry to worry you. I didn’t mean to.” Y/N said with an apologetic look.

“Its ok sweetheart, but next time, let us know.” Dean said assuring Y/N that they weren’t mad at her. “And, if you don’t mind asking, who was this person you followed?” Dean asked curiously.

“You might not believe me, but when I was walking with Sam, I saw that there was a person who was in the other side of the street, watching us carefully, and every time I looked at it, either started walking to the other direction we were heading, or looked to other side like waiting for someone. And always was with a different hat.” Y/N started talking- “At first, I thought that was my mind making it up but then I saw this person’s face and recognize it, so I followed him.” She was interrupted by Sam “So, that’s why you were a little behind me”. “Yeah, and that’s when I saw his face. When you got distracted, I crossed the street and started following him. He went directly to the cemetery, and sat in the bench in front of a grave pretty old. The same bench you found me.”

“Did you talk to him?” Dean interrupted Y/N. “Yes, I wanted to see his face. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. I apologized to the person, and this person left. And that’s when you found me.” Y/N finished talking. She was really upset and embarrassed of what had happened.

“Sweetheart, everything is ok. Don’t worry” Sam assured Y/N.

“I’m going to my room to get shower and study a little before dinner. It’s ok?” Y/N asked to her brothers.

“Of course Y/N/N. Go and do whatever you need. We will let you know when dinner is ready. Don’t worry about anything”. Dean said, and kissed her forehead.

Y/N left the library and went directly to her bedroom. She had told her brothers what had happened after she left Sam and followed this person. That part of the story was true, but she didn’t tell them the whole story.

When Y/N got to the cemetery, this person was in the bench looking at an old grave; when she approached him, this person left a piece of paper on the bench and left, giving no time to Y/N to asked who was it. The grave had two things, a name and a sad and happy mask, the name of the grave was “Gabriel”. She knew that it was a message from his best friend; and the piece of paper was a letter.

Dear Y/N:

I know you might hate me because of this, but it was the only thing that came up to my mind to show you what we talked. And, of course, I wanted to have a little fun with you. I’m sorry that I had to do it this way, but I hope, I really hope, you could understand that your life is perfect the way it is; and the minimum change you make, it can be disastrous. You are special, don’t ever change it.

I hope you forgive me. Lots of love

PS: Next time you want to wish something, think it twice.

The Trickster

Y/N knew it was him. It’s something that he always does. Y/N went to get shower, and then she went to bed. She wanted to wake up and finish what Gabriel had made up.

Y/N wake up in the middle of the night, she went to the kitchen to refill her glass with water. That’s when she found her brothers talking.

“What are you doing up so late?” Y/N asked her brothers.

“We weren’t able to sleep, you?” Sam said.

“I’m thirsty.” Y/N said and before refilling her glass, she hugged Sam first and the Dean. “Sorry about last night, I love you both. My life is perfect with you two” Y/N said before leaving the kitchen.

Sam and Dean weren’t able to say anything because Y/N had already left the kitchen.

“What was all that about?” Dean asked surprised.

“I don’t know” Sam answered- “But let’s get to bed now, so tomorrow we can celebrate her birthday”. Sam finally said before heading to his room.

#lulus4kwritingchallenge #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #sam x dean x reader

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