Tumgik
#raised my fiancé with money
webnovel-liker · 5 months
Text
I'm reading the novel version of "I Raised My Fiancé with Money" and the bad thing is....
I sympathize a lot with Stella. And she isn't even that horribly awful. Annoying, spoiled, and without remorse, yes, but not irredeemable evil or even a villain. If it was just that, it would be whatever, but the fact that the narrative (more specifically, the protagonist's narration) always talks about her as some great villain just makes me go ???? And takes out my immersion
Tbh it's clear as day that its Lilia's biases and if it only was that would be whatever and just another nice thing to analyze BUT it's clear as daytime that the author is trying to justify it. Correct if I'm wrong, but my experience in reading OI speaks that this is the type of story to degrade other female leads to raise the MC in a narrativic standpoint.
And like. Stella is such a villainess material??? I mean, if you read her story you woud expect her to be the og villainess who has her body snatched or the protagonist who regress after failling into ruin.
Not only that, i think the author is missing the pontetial to write her as a well written antagonist by (seemingly) going down to the cliched route of "hysterical and stupid woman who is sooooo jealousy of the protagonist and fight for men"
Thing is, if the villanization of her character was focoused on her stalking the ML or anything else that is actually harmful i wouldn't mind at all, but im on ch 64 and it's jarring seeing the protagonist (who i generally like btw) acting as she is being super badass for scamming Stella and with a tone of superiority when its completely unnecessary??? Like gurl you didn't even needed to go to that party. The only reason you went there was bc you wanted to see Stella making a fool of herself for buying flowers from you. And like. I understand that someone trying to copy you is annoying and all but does that really calls for scamming???
If she did that to call out on her stalking/actual shitty behavior i would be pretty on board but idk feeling jealousy and coping somebody isn't that big of a crime, its annoying but bearable and ignorable.
Maybe im wrong and the novel will take a complete different path but like, instead of this wouldn't it be way more interesting if Stella was actually a well devolved character who instead of being constantly villanizate by the narrative, was portrayed as a victim of her environment and society which then made her do some shitty stuff but also fuck she's still young and has inferiority complex and body image issues
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
^like!!! How do you expect me to not like her???? Maybe this part eas just portrayed differently in the novel, but after reading a sympathetic portray of the antagonist, i dont understand why the narration is harsh towards her when it comes to her inferiority complex towards Lilia. Although it's not thrown at our faces compared to other novels, it still pretty much there
Tumblr media
^ and why dont the author or the protagonist focous more on the fact that she was stalking/harassing the ML just for his position and felt no remorse? That's pretty fucking awful and more important than focousing on how pathetic and stupid she is for trying to cope the protagonist
And ik this is biased asf but a lot of my sympathy comes from the fact that this novel is almost the perfect "standard og novel" story. The only big change is that the ML is a sweetie
As i said, Stella looks a lot like those og villainess and the fact that our mc "stole" her Fiancé. Stelle was just harassing the ML but also the fact that she *was* getting engaged to him and it was pretty much official and everyone knew abt it, im not lying when i saying i pity the fact that she will get scorned by everyone. Not that i think the ML should've get engaged with her, actually i cheered when the engagement was broken off since Nobody should marry a stalker due to their abusive mother, that much is obvious. But it still oddly fun/interesting that if she take out that context, Stella could easily become an unfortunate villainess from random OI number 19282928
And its pretty hard to believe that the author isnt aware of that when its the biggest trope of the genre. SO AGAIN!!!! Why make her seem pathetic for having an inferiority complex/body image issues when you have this big gold chance of writing a paralleled character to the protagonist, who is a well rounded and sympathetic antagonist and the perfect character to play with the change of perspective/meta elements that is a big staple of the genre you're writing in?????
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anyways i love her <333 my fave <333 my meow meow whos fucking awful <3333 also fuck those nobles she was so pretty when she was fat
Also this equally relevant but i think she and lalia should fuck and they would be in this weird and awkward polycue with ML since Stella used to harassed him <3
I want put the three of them in a room and make the most awkward moment in history where they, but especially Stella would rather die than to talk about their feelings <3
4 notes · View notes
lunelkie · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
he just asked him to do the most unspeakable things to him
60 notes · View notes
bookofbonbon · 9 months
Text
you keep him there - coriolanus snow.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Warnings: Death. Dead Body. Toxic relationship. Toxic!Snow x Toxic!Reader.
Summary: Coriolanus is now President and you his First Lady. Perhaps you don't particularly like him but, you are protective of him.
Word Count: 1213.
Tumblr media
You sit in calm silence, hand pressed to your temple - careful to avoid your meticulously styled hair as a cigarette burns between your fingers - the beginnings of a headache coming on as you knead the taut skin softly, waiting patiently for the arrival of your husband. 
You’d known Coriolanus your entire life. A common theme amongst most polite Capitol society. Of course, 15 years on and the divide between old money and new still existed; flimsy but very much still there. 
Were the two of you close growing up? No.
But, did you consider him friend? Also, no. 
At the very least however, did you like him? Not in the slightest. 
Of course, none of that mattered, not when each of you headed your respective families; families who made up half of the remaining four of the Old Guard of the Elite - Snow and Blizzard.
So, it was to no one’s surprise when your betrothal to Snow was announced at 20; the match arranged by your respective grandparents - although you suspected Coriolanus had more of a hand in it than his senile grandmother did - and cementing your union as husband and wife at 21.
So, despite your dislike of the newly minted, 23-year-old President of Panem, his role as husband in your life actually meant something to you - you’d always protect him.
It’s what got you into your current predicament. 
“How many times must I tell you to stop smoking inside?” his voice shatters the silence from where he stands on the other side of the Parlour.
His long legs carry him quickly over to you, a deep scowl etched into his features as he plucks the cigarette from between your fingers and crushes it in the ashtray. 
“The nicotine will stain the walls yellow. Not to mention the smell,” he stands over you, sharp nose turned up in disgust. 
“So, I’ll have an Avox clean the walls and replace the furniture,” you resolve, standing from the plush couch and leading him out of the Parlour and into the Drawing room. “Besides, that’s the least of our material problems, right now.”
“And what about when the nasty habit leads you to an early grave? Hm? What will an Avox do then?” 
You stop outside of the drawing rooms closed doors. Turning to face him, you lean against the frame and smile. 
“Come now, Coco, I thought we agreed never to lie to each other,” you tut. “Let’s not pretend the prospect of an early grave doesn’t secretly thrill you.” 
Coriolanus rolls his eyes at the nickname, he simultaneously hated and grew fond of it. 
“And yet, still you pretend you don’t like me,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Whether you choose to believe me or not, I would like to grow old with you.”
“Or not,” you smile tightly, turning swiftly back toward the closed doors. 
A lie, you knew Coriolanus held affection for you, no matter how oddly he showed it. Although, the same could be said about you with him. However, it was just that affection - it wasn’t a lie that you didn’t like him. 
“As I was saying, yellow stained parlour walls are the least of our material problems right now,” you open the doors of the drawing room and reveal the dead body on the floor. “Not when Livia Cardew’s fiancé is bleeding out on my new rug.”
“I’m not sure what it is about me that seems to invite talks of treason.”
You find yourself leaning, once again, against the doors frame as Coriolanus steps further into the room.
“Must be all those outward displays of affection you show toward me,” he speaks sarcastically, crouching down. “I'll have a new rug made for you.”
You snort something of a laugh - a rare sound. 
“What did he say?”
“He came to deliver something of a warning to me.” 
You stand behind Coriolanus, placing a hand on his shoulder and peering down at the blue faced and bloody nose body. 
“Is that so?”
You make a noise of agreement, “something about power getting to your head and boasting that he himself was about to step into immense power in a few short weeks when Livia’s mother steps down; that he was doing me a favor by stopping by, if I had any sense I would leave you before it was too late.”
“Truly two pretty little idiots,” you scoff. “As if we’d allow the fool and that idiotic girl to take control of the Capitol’s largest bank. Although, I suppose we should thank them,” you wonder aloud. “They have made it significantly easier on us.”
“Thank you,” Coriolanus pats his cheek and stands.
Ushering the two of you out of the room, he guides you to the front doors with a hand on the small of your back.
You laugh, proper this time; the sound is nice, reminding Coriolanus of a songbird - without the temptation to shoot it dead - and it brings a genuine smile to his face. 
“What of Livia?” you ask, as he takes your coat from an Avox and helps you into it.
“We keep her alive, a small token of our mercy,” he decides. “But we strip her of the majority of her family’s assets on the grounds of treason, replace her with someone Capitol society trusts as heir to the Cardew Empire and leave her with only enough to keep her just above the line of poverty.” 
Turning you toward him, Coriolanus observes you quietly with a strange look in his eye as he tucks a stray hair back into place and fixes the imperfection.
“I supposed I should break the unfortunate news of her never-to-be husband’s passing to her, I’m already ten minutes late.”
You smooth out the front of your coat, stepping out of his reach and out the door but, not before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
Before, you can clear the landing to descend the front steps however, Coriolanus calls to you. 
“Hm?” you turn back to him. 
“Would you…” he trails off, the strange look still in his eye - it’s insecurity.
You don’t point it out.  
“Would I?” you repeat, stepping back within his reach. 
“Leave me,” he finishes, recalling the earlier warning given to you. “I mean, after all, you say you don’t like me.”
His lips pull bitterly.
You almost laugh in his face, that after three years together and all you had done for him that he would still question your devotion to him. 
“I don’t,” you shrug, nonchalant. 
His jaw tenses, ears turning red with anger… or maybe humiliation but, you don’t give him time to dwell on it; crowding his space and gripping his jaw tightly between your fingers, you force him to look at you.
“But, I also don’t have to like you. I love you and that’s enough for me, I can only hope that someday that it’ll be enough for you too,” you loosen your grip. 
Coriolanus swallows thickly, eyes closing as he presses his forehead to yours.
“It’s enough for me,” he whispers. 
“Always remember,” you remind him, pushing him back slightly to look into his eyes “We’re a team. Snow lands on top and…”
“the Blizzard keeps it there,” he finishes.
You keep him there.
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.
2K notes · View notes
i-am-baechu · 1 month
Text
✎ᝰ. Weverse Live ⁞ J. Jungkook
Summary: Y/N comes home to see Jungkook doing a live....at 3 in the morning?
Part of ‘ His Fan Girl universe
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Thank you Jinnie for dropping me off."
Jin smiled at her and poked her forehead gently, "Of course I would drop you off. It's my job as your brother."
She gathered her bags and let out a small sigh, "I'm surprised that Jungkook let you pick me up."
Jin rolled his eyes and Y/N raised her eyebrow, "I don't want to talk about it...have a good night."
"What did you do for him?"
"I paid for your next date."
Y/N shook her head at this, "I'll yell at him."
"Please do. I'll see you tomorrow."
She walked to their house with tiredness flirting with her. She opened the door and kicked her shoes off. She walked into the living room putting her bags on the dinner table, "Jungkook! How can you have Jin pay for our next date."
Jungkook turned around and raised his eyebrow, "I have no idea what your talking about..."
"Jin just told me that you had him pay for our next date."
Jungkook shurgged his shoulders at this and gave her a playful smirk, "He wanted to pick you up. He knows that's my job."
Y/N rolled her eyes at this and folded her arms over her chest, "You tell him that he will get his money back."
"Why?"
"Because i'll pay for it."
Jungkook jumped out of his chair and walked towards her with a pout, "You wouldn't dare."
"Then give the money back to Jin."
Jungkook let out groan and turned towards his phone, "You see how my fiancée treats me."
Y/N raised her eyebrow and leaned forward to see that he was on Weverse live. She quickly jumped out of the frame, "Did they see my face?"
"No, they just heard your voice. Baby, have hyung pay for the date."
"Jungkook no. Why are you on live? It's three in the morning?"
Jungkook glanced at his phone and then back at her, "I got lonely waiting for you."
She frowned at this and moved towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his chest. His arms immidently wrapped around her waist as he rubbed her hips gently, "I'm sorry...I had to finish this project. I'm all done with it, we can be together now."
He lifted her up a little and she let out a small gasp, "Together forever."
"I was only gone for eight hours..."
"That's too long."
"Jungkook put me down and finish the live. I'll be getting ready for bed."
He kissed the side of her head and did what she asked, "I'll be in there soon."
He watched go into the bedroom and he couldn't help but smile. He walked back to his phone and read some comments, "Jungkook you have heart eyes." He let out a small laugh and nodded his head, "Of course I do. I'm in love. I have to go guys. I'll see you later."
"Jungkook, is so clingy."
Jungkook rolled his eyes at this comment and pouted, "Leave me alone. Let me be clingy. Bye, Army I see you later. Love you."
He finished the live and put the phone in his pocket with a smile. He walked into the bedroom to see Bam laying with Y/N who was dressed in Jungkook's sweat pants and a bra. He smiled at the scene and leaned down to kiss the side of her head, "I love you."
She turned towards him and smiled, "We love you more."
Bam sat up and licked his nose. He let out a small laugh and climbed in bed, "What a perfect way to end the day."
"You better tell Jin that he doesn't have to pay."
"Fine..."
258 notes · View notes
karmasloverrr · 3 months
Text
fresh out the slammer - rafe cameron
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which y/n realizes the only man she wants isn’t the one standing across from her at the alter
warnings- swearing, angst, kissing, mention of abuse
w/c: idk but a lot
guys this is my first fic so be kind please but like..also leave feedback lmao
———————————————————————————
Soaking in a bubble filled tub, wallowing in your sorrows and mind even hazier from your third glass of red wine, the fight you just had with your fiancé- soon to be husband- left you with an insurmountable amount of racing thoughts.
Getting home late was a recurring pattern for Tommy, drunk and tattered with his tie undone as well as an occasional obnoxiously red lipstick stain underneath his jaw, mocking you when he turns his head away from your “incessant nagging and bitching”.
You asking where he had been turned into hands pulling hair from stress, voice cracks of screeching anger, broken shards of glass from being flown into walls and streams of tears when he put his hands around your neck, again.
“Cover that up for tomorrow.” Catching your breath you glared at him with nothing but hate and irritation.
“Yeah, wouldn’t want the town knowing you’re I’m marrying an abuser or anything.”
Tommy whips around with a finger in your face. “Watch your fucking mouth, Y/N. You’d be nothing without me, your last name changing is a blessing to you, appreciate it. Knowing you’ll be associated with my family and reputation isn’t something to take lightly, got it?”
You stood there just taking it. Staring dazedly at the wall in your kitchen, anything to avoid looking at the man you once respected and maybe even loved.
Your father would be so ashamed of you, he never raised you to take shit from anyone, especially a man who didn’t deserve an ounce of your time. He tragically died when you were 15, leaving you with a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. The reason you were even in this situation with Tommy.
Tommy belonged to one of the most prominent and wealthy families in the OBX. The Randolphs have always had a good relationship with your family, with your dad being a loyal accountant associated with their law firm. After your dad passed they treated you and your mother like some charity cases, always baking food and lending money, to which your mother gladly took.
Your mother suggested the idea of marriage to Tommys parents after she caught you blushing too hard and smiling a little to often about “that Cameron boy”. Rafe Cameron had a reputation around Kildare and it wasn’t a good one. Drug addicted, college dropout, psychopath and constantly picking fights were all tied to his name but to you, he was the only reason the sun came up each morning.
Like you, he lost a parent at a young age, his mother. Trauma bonding and sharing hatred with the Randolph family became a stepping stone for you both. You met through Topper at a party in high school and never really looked back, you became inseparable.
Years spent indulging in each other’s company was platonic until a few years ago when he started looking at you a little more intensely, leaving longing glances and stolen stares across crowded rooms. You both knew your feelings but never spoke it into existence, seeing as you were then just freshly engaged.
Now here you stand, with no love in your heart for the man you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with starting tomorrow, glaring at him stomping up the spiral stairs of your far too perfect and ridiculously gigantic sized “home”.
The drip of the tub faucet echoes throughout the bathroom, your foot thoughtlessly turning the water dial on and off every few seconds. Absently staring off into space, your face is blank but your mind is racing. You are at a true gut wrenching loss at what to do.
The only thing pulling you out of your daze is a text notification buzzing the ceramic tile counter. You snap your head to the phone, looking almost offended that someone could even concur to bother you right now.
Reluctantly, you step out of the bath grabbing a nearby towel to wrap around yourself. You pick up the phone to view the notification, Rafe.
Meet at beach in 10? I know it’s late.
Your lips tip up in a smile, it’s almost as if he knew your mind was off someplace else, the beach brings you both back to your rightful state of inner peace.
You type a few answers out, sounding too excited or desperate, you just delete them and start again. You can see it in your head, he’s probably biting his thumb nail in anticipation seeing the text bubble come and go, it makes you smile and bite your lip.
Yes, want me to pick you up?
He responds before you can even re-read what you said.
I’m already here…
You laugh out loud, covering you mouth knowing Tommy is already asleep in your shared bedroom right outside.
You type out a quick “of course you are, be there soon” before fully starting to dry yourself off. Rafe loves your message, signaling that he saw it.
Quietly entering your bedroom you pick out the easiest things to put on, settling on a crew neck, loose shorts and your birkenstocks.
Somehow you managed to leave your house unscathed but this isn’t the first time you’ve snuck out to meet Rafe and it won’t be the last.
The hidden path that you and Rafe found years ago comes into view, it leads right out to a hidden cove, making it feel like a secret that only you and him know, shutting out the rest of the island.
You take off your sandals and feel the sand enveloping your feet, you can smell his cigarettes and see him scratching the top of his buzzed head.
“Hi sweetheart.” He didn’t need to turn around to know you were there, he could just feel the air getting light around him, or at least he saw it that way.
You walk over and sit down matching his position with knees up to your chest, bumping elbows in the process. “Hi Rafe, what’s going on?” you ask in a hushed tone as if there’s multiple people around.
He looks at you now, taking in your natural hair flowing down to your back and a far out look in your eyes. His chest squeezes at how beautiful you look without even trying. “Shouldn’t I be asking you, Ms. Y/L/N, or should I say soon to be Mrs. Randolph?”
You chuckle with your tongue touching the inside of your cheek, “I don’t want to talk about it or him. Especially here, this is my safe space, our space so just let’s not, please”. You look at him with pleading eyes, he nods with understanding eyes as he blows smoke from the side of his mouth.
You sit in a comfortable silence for 10 minutes, enjoying each other’s company and listening to the sounds of the waves crashing up the sand, with every pull of the current washing away your stress.
Rafe breaks it by flicking his cigarette, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, “You don’t have to, you know that right? It’s obvious you don’t fucking want to so just don-“ You shake your head and let out an unstable sigh.
“It’s tomorrow, Rafe. I can’t just call it all off, it’s too late, I have relatives from all over the country flying in, his family spent so much money I can’t just-“
“Fuck his family and fuck your relatives, respectfully. Do you think your grandparents o-or your aunts and uncles would support this knowing what’s going on in your head and heart? Cause I certainly don’t.”
“It’s not that simple. It doesn’t matter and our families, my mother would be disappointed and his dad would probably have me sent to a fucking asylum saying I went crazy or something” Your cheeks get increasingly hot with anger, so frustrated with your situation.
“Who fucking cares, Y/N/N? This isn’t something small like missing a dinner party or calling in sick to work, this is your future a-and the rest of your life if you don’t make a decision, seriously sweetheart it’s ridiculous.”
The nickname makes your stomach drop in ways Tommy never could. Rafe’s passion and way of words always leaves you feeling giddy.
You bite down on your lip, hard, to stop the fleeting tears building in your eyes and looking away from him to avoid them falling even quicker. He takes his calloused palm and places it on your cheek to turn your face towards his. “You aren’t happy, you know you’re not, I know you’re not and it’s killing me” He punctuates his words, shaking your face a little bit as if to really drill his feelings into your brain.
You look up at him with wet and tired eyes, knowing no matter how much he’s right, there’s just no way to fix this. You bring your hand up to meet his own on your cheek, intertwining your fingers.
“I appreciate your passion Rafe, I really do and I wish I could go back and say no but it’s just- there’s no use. It’s done and I fucked up and that’s on me.” You stare into his eyes, competing with the ocean in front of you.
His eyebrows furrow as if he’s in pain, he licks his lips and scoffs, hand and eyes leaving your face, making you feel cold.
It’s silent again, the air growing thick with tension until he breaks it, again.
“Let’s run away, yeah let’s do it.” He shakes his head in approval like he’s just solved the mystery, “I can buy us ferry tickets and we’ll never come back here again.”
It’s your turn to scoff and shake your head, “Now that’s ridiculous, seriously, Rafe? This isn’t some fairytale, we can’t just fly away to Neverland.”
“Why not, Y/N? You’ve always talked about wanting to live in Massachusetts. I’ll buy us a house on Martha’s Vineyard, we can have our own beach and 2 dogs an-“
You stand up in a fit of rage, sand flying everywhere from the abrupt reaction. “Wake up, Rafe! I’m getting married tomorrow. It’s happening and there’s nothing you or I can do to fix that.” You cross your arms before rolling your eyes and stomping away.
Rafe is quick to match your pace and grabs your forearm, flipping you around so your chests are touching and faces inches apart. “You’re the only one that can fix this. It seems like I want this wedding called off more than you do.” You’re both panting, from proximity and the situation but you’re convinced it’s just because of the heated back and forth.
“Rafe please, you need to let this go, for me please.”
“I can’t just let this go Y/N/N. You’re marrying a piece of shit who doesn’t make you happy and I know you don’t love him, tell me you don’t” His desperate eyes leaving aches in your heart.
He places both of his hands lightly on your neck but due to Tommy and his previous anger, you wince in pain from the bruises. Rafe notices, of course he does and you see it register in his eyes, pupils dilated turning from passion to pure exasperation.
He swallows heavily, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Y/N. I’m gonna ask you something and you better tell me the fucking truth. Did he do that? Who did this to you?”
You grab onto his forearms and bore your eyes into his. “Please” you beg, knowing exactly how this is gonna go. He shakes his head, breathing in and out of his nose, bending down slightly to inspect the marks, moving your neck around slowly to examine.
“Baby. I can see where he placed his hands and pressed, so hard that you bruised?” His voice begins to crack, so devastated that anyone could ever imagine putting their hands on your beautiful face.
Tears have started shedding down your face, reaching yours and his conjoined hands. “Rafe. I-“ He lets go of your neck and starts trudging through the sand back towards the path. Your eyes widen and you run after him.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him, wring his neck out so he knows how it feels.” You shake your head and catch up to him, stepping infront of his chest and placing your hands there.
“I’m begging you, Rafe. I’m okay, see I’m perfectly fine. Please don’t do this.” Your patting his chest now, doing anything to relax him.
He looks down at you, eyes going from rage to sadness when your face comes into view. He lets out a whine and pulls your head into his chest. “You’re somethin’ else. Your soon-to-be husband puts his hands on you and you’re still gonna go through with it? So stubborn, always have been”
You laugh through your tears at how messed up it is. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean into his touch, rubbing your hand through his buzzed hair at the base of his neck.
“Rafe?” you remove your head from his chest and look up at him which causes him to look down at you as well, he hums in response, eager to hear what you have to say.
“I understand if you say no but, um you being there tomorrow would really help ease my nerves.” You wince, knowing how absurd the question is but it’s true, you need him there to be able to function.
“I cave on a lot of things for you but seeing the girl I’m in love with get married to someone who doesn’t deserve even a glance from you, is where I draw the line”
You widen your eyes and gawk at his confession, neither of you have ever mentioned the feelings that linger between the both of you, a love confession for the ages is the last thing you expected.
“Rafe, W-“ you shake your head, at a loss for words and mind blank.
He kisses his teeth and smiles out of vain. “I just can’t bring myself to witness everything I’ve ever wanted happen to another man”.
A heartbroken sigh leaves your lips, “Rafe, please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
He shrugs smugly, weight lifted off his shoulders at the overdue confession.
“Sorry, sweetheart but it’s true. I just can’t bear it”
You take a deep breath, wiping the stray tears that have fallen off your face. But then something happens, it takes over you, the urge. Fuck it, you place your hands on his cheeks and dive into his lips, standing on your tip toes for leverage.
You both don’t move for a second, not sure what to do, just the feeling of each other’s lips together being overwhelming enough.
Rafe mentally curses himself for not acting faster but as soon as he comes back down to Earth, one hand flys to your face and the other to your back. You use his arm behind you for support as you lean into it causing him to lean down as the kiss intensifies.
Minutes spent like this, expressing every emotion your both feeling into the kiss, breaking away only to catch each other’s breath before diving right back in.
It lasts a few minutes longer before you pull away, leaning your forehead on his, nose’s bumping. Swallowing, you begin “Rafe, I lov-“. He shakes his head and gives you a fleeting peck, “Please don’t.”
“But Rafe I-“ He nods.
“I know, sweetheart. I know, but if you say it I’m really taking you to Massachusetts and you won’t have a choice.”
He’s trying to be funny but you don’t laugh, devastated that he’s in so much agony and you caused all of it.
“What are we gonna do?” you plead.
“You made up your mind and I can’t change that, but if you ever do, just know I’m waiting and I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He steps away then, removing his hands and tucking a strand of hair that fell behind your ear.
“I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.” You begin to sob now, guilty and just so angry that this is what has happened.
“I know, me too but please don’t cry, Y/N it breaks my heart.” You hug him again, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso.
“It’s getting late and you have a big day tomorrow. Let’s get you home, baby.”
“You’re just tormenting me now.” He laughs, his bright smile on display. “Maybe”, you slap his chest, “You’re an asshole”, which causes you both to laugh now.
He holds you steady by the waist while you put your shoes back on, when you’re done you place your arm around his waist, copying him.
Placing a kiss on your head he leads the way back through the path in the direction of his truck. Silent and reflecting you both have a certain sadness surrounding each other, not knowing how your relationship will change and if you’ll ever see him again but yet there’s a hint of relief and comfort knowing all the built up tension, smitten and blushed cheeks over the years have finally been brought to light.
Looking at your reflection, you don’t recognize yourself. A melancholy, pathetic version of you stares back. With a full face of makeup to cover up hand marks and eye bags from lack of sleep last night, an up-do topped with a vail and a fake smile, you have never seen yourself so miserable, so unrecognizable.
“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, Y/N. We tried but you just wouldn’t hear it.” Kie paced the bridal room back and forth, just as frustrated as you, knowing her best friend is about to marry the islands biggest piece of shit.
“Kiara, she doesn’t need to hear this right now, ok?” Sarah is behind you, placing bobby pins in places that are needed.
“I’m aware I’ve fucked up, royally. I heard it from Rafe last night and I don’t need to-“. Both girls gasp, “Rafe?”.
You shut your mouth, cursing yourself for exposing the information, sighing you begin to reluctantly tell the girls what had happened.
Sarah and Kie look at you with remorse as you recall the interaction. Sarah takes your hand and Kie begins to tear up. “This is so bad you guys, I don’t know what to do.”
Kie looks around as she says, “Well nothing, now seeing as you have to be on the altar in 10 minutes.” Sarah shoots her a glare as you begin to sob. The girls come over for a group hug, sushing you and rubbing your back.
A knock at the door interrupts your sobs, causing you all to look up at the door as you nod, signaling that Sarah can let them in.
She announces for the person to enter, it’s JJ and he’s holding flowers. “Hi, uh, Tommy asked me to give these to you”. You take one look at the flowers and begin to sob again, “I don’t even like roses and h-he knows that”. With your head in your hands you just want to bury yourself in the hole you dug.
JJ is standing there white as a ghost, looking to Kiara for some support to which she brushes him off. “What did I do?” He confesses.
You look up slowly, sighing and fanning your face. “It’s not your fault JJ. I just hate my soon to be husband, he doesn’t understand me, never has.”
“Wait, what. You’re literally about to marry him in..” JJ stops to look at his watch, “7 minutes”.
You look around to the girls, feeling a panic attack coming on. “Fuck.”
Kie updates JJ on the “Y/N and Tommy lore” as Sarah rubs your back and makes you count and breathe. In the back you can hear JJ gasping and audibly reacting to Kie catching him all up.
When she’s done, JJ comes over to you and gives you a hug from behind. “As much as I don’t like Rafe, sorry Sarah, I really, really don’t like Tommy.” You look at JJ through the mirror and solemnly nod your head to agree.
“He just told me that when Tommy was handing him the flowers, he tipped him a $20 and thought he was a bartender.”
JJ scoffs, “I told him I was sitting in the row literally right behind your families and he just laughed, so yeah I fucking hate him too.” You realize that not only has Tommy tormented your life but all of your friends who you love so much.
“I’m so sorry guys, I’m so sorry you have to be here and I’m so sorry that I didn’t stand up for myself way back when our families arranged this but I just have to deal with it, just have to deal.”
They all nodded and the girls fixed your makeup, getting you ready to meet your wicked mother at the double doors, which led to the guest filled lawn of people who are unknowingly supporting your nightmare.
JJ gave you one last hug and words of encouragement before going to take his seat on the golf green. Sarah and Kie all gave you tight hugs and kisses on the cheek before leading you out of the room. Your mother waited at the end of the country club, beaming with pride and showering you with compliments as your manicured nails dug into your palms.
“Honey, your eye bags look terrible, I’m gonna go ask the makeup lady if she can add some more concealer or something-“ You huffed and slapped her hand away.
“I’m fine, Mom. Please, I just want to get out there.”
She changes her shocked expression of you swatting her hand away to instant radiation of happiness. “Oh, you’re so excited to just be married already, aren’t you?”.
You try your best to make your fake smile believable as she places both hands on your cheeks and nods in approval.
You take the biggest breath as the violins begin to play the bridal entrance, the guests all stand turning their attention towards you and the doors open. This is it, your mother grips your arm and begins to walk you down the flower petal covered isle.
All eyes on you, can they tell how close to breaking down you are? Some people are wiping their eyes with tissues, some stare at you like you’re the prophecy and all you can do is look around, where’s Rafe?
Hands shaking as you see Tommy at the alter, so smug falsely wiping his nose and eyes to put on a show for the Figure Eight mothers, who mourn for their daughters that never got the chance to have his last name.
Before stepping up to meet him, you make quick pleading eye contact with Sarah, she knows exactly what you’re thinking and she shakes her head solemnly and mouths a quiet “no”. He’s not here and you knew he wouldn’t be, in the back of your sick mind you had hope that he’d maybe show up just to be your support but he’s nowhere to be seen, not even lurking a few feet behind the whole ceremony.
Your mother turns to face you, before giving you off to Tommy she places a quick kiss on your cheek then slides her mouth up to your ear, “Don’t embarrass me” she snaps in a sharp whisper.
You pull back with wide eyes but she doesn’t give you time to react before she’s giving you a small shove to meet Tommy’s outstretched hand to guide you up.
In your mind, you hoped you’d be here one day, surrounded by your loved ones on a beautiful North Carolina day to celebrate the marriage of you and your husband. Except the man in front of you would be about 4 inches taller, brown eyes traded for blue and a dimple engraved in his cheek as his bright smile makes your head spin.
Rafe. Rafe. Rafe. Even before you ever realized it, swirled into all of your poems he’s always been the man in your dreams, all your manifestations come to life, everything and all you’ve ever wanted.
Tommy begins declaring that he will love and cherish you through sickness and in health. Looking at you so cynically, you can see everything in his eyes. He’s got you trapped now and there’s nothing you can do.
Now, it’s your turn. With a deep breath and slight pause you begin. “I, Y/N, promise Tommy” Rafe “to love him” Rafe “through sickness and in health” Rafe. It all comes out in a whimper but only you seem to notice.
Tommy turns to the officiant, eager to hear him give the speech that seals this whole thing. “Do you, Tommy Randolph, take Y/N Y/L/N, to be your wife?”
“I do.”
Your heart is racing, feeling as though your whole world is about to come crashing down on you. Rafe, you can see him in your head, handsome face and charming smile, you think back to your encounter last night, promises of fleeing the island and a white picket, blue shuddered house far away from here is all you can focus on, it’s all waiting for you and so is he.
“He’s waiting for me.” the sentence leaves your mouth before you can even help it. Tommy looks up from the ring he’s about to place on your finger. “What?”.
You slightly step back from his body, moving your arm away from the gold 20 carat diamond about to bind you to 40+ years of hell. The officiant doesn’t seem to notice as he asks you the same question he just repeated to the man standing across from you, now looking flustered.
“Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Tommy Randolph to be your husband?”
You look back and forth between Tommy and the officiant, beginning to shake your head. “I- I don’t.”
The ceremony comes to a hushed stop, the wind blowing from the coast can be the only thing heard. “I don’t, and I can’t and I won’t.” The guests look around in awe, not sure of what to do or say.
Your mother and Tommy’s father stand up quickly, both seething with anger, overlapping each other with protests of this “erroneous behavior”. You look at Tommy and begin to smile at his expression, face red with embarrassment and loathe.
“I just can’t.” You begin to look around at all the guests before turning to your right, looking at the faces of your 9 bridesmaids, 2 whom aren’t even trying to hide their shit eating grins. Kiara nods frantically, giving you the ok and Sarah begins to giggle.
With all the approval you need, you take your gown in your hands and begin to flee down the steps. Tommy grips your arm before you can get far and whips you around to face him, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N. Do you have any idea what this is gonna cause?” He seethes in your face, teeth clenched together and progressively pressing harder into your skin.
You use all your force and rip yourself away from his grip while walking backwards down the steps. “I’m getting the fuck out of here and far away from you.” Guests are gasping as your mother and Tommy are screaming at you to “get back here” all while Sarah and Kie are giving each other a subtle fist pump.
All you can hear as your running is the sound of your heartbeat and what sounds like JJ, John B and Pope whistling and clapping in approval. “Go get your man, Y/N!”
It all turns into forgotten noise when you finally exit the Island Club and soon all your thoughts are consumed by him. Summers taking cover, splintered back in winters and silent, bitter dinners are all over now. You’re at the starting line, fresh out of the slammer and you did your time.
Breaking out into a sprint, your bridal heels are digging into your feet and your train is tattered, none of it matters when you start the familiar path to Tannyhill. The promise of Rafe at home is the one thing keeping you from collapsing in the Carolina heat with all your extra layers on.
You weren’t much of a runner but 10 minutes doesn’t seem too far when it leads to forever. You can’t help but break into a fit of laughter at the pure chaos of it all, some people passing by in cars honking at you but you just throw your hand up in a fleeting wave.
Rafe is on the second story deck when he sees you stop at the entrance gates, put the passcode in and push through when they open. He squints his eyes in disbelief, knowing this has to be some figment of his imagination, not until he hears you yell his name.
He rushes through his bedroom, down the hallway, stairs and to the front door. Swinging it open not bothering to shut it, he runs out to greet you. You’re both laughing hysterically in disbelief at the sights in front of you.
When you finally reach his grasp, you jump up and he catches you, gripping his hands against your back and thigh. “What did you do?” He exclaims, both out of breath from the adrenaline and running.
You pull back from the embrace and confess it all. “I love you, not him, never him. I- I just couldn’t fathom doing it, not when all I kept thinking about was you standing there at the alter and our house on the Vineyard and dogs and just everything, with you. I want to do everything with you for the rest of my life.”
Rafe eyes become misty and he just nods. “It’s me and you, Y/N. It always has been, I just- wow- you’ve got some nerve running away from your own wedding.” He places a harsh kiss on your forehead and settles you down on the ground but never letting go of your back.
“Are you complaining?” He shakes his head viscerally.“Fuck, no.”
He grabs your face and puts his lips against yours, smiling through the intense kiss you both can’t help but giggle into each other. Pulling away, you both just stare into each other’s eyes, nothing but immense adoration and love.
“How did everyone take it?” He asked still beaming.
You start laughing, throwing your head back “Oh my god, you should’ve seen their faces.” You begin to recount the reactions of Tommy, your mother and his father which makes Rafe smugly hum in approval.
“As much as I wish I could’ve seen that, this is..” You look at him in anticipation.
“This is everything I was hoping would happen.” You laugh at his wishful thinking of this whole wedding becoming a disaster.
“I just couldn’t do it, Rafe. This is my place, right here with you and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” Rafe nods and places another kiss to your head.
“You’re here now, with me, and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” You smile and lean in to give him another kiss.
Rafe hums and pulls away. “Now, as much as I enjoy seeing you in a wedding dress, let’s get you into something more comfortable, my bed, maybe?” You laugh and take his hand, guiding him up the front steps of Tannyhill.
“How about you pour us two glasses of celebratory wine and I’ll pull up my “dream home” Pinterest board, just so we can start to brainstorm or something” you shrug coyly, fearing your enthusiasm and excitement got the best of you.
Rafe brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth and places a kiss on your knuckles. “You and your beautiful mind. That sounds perfect to me, sweetheart.”
You enter the doors together, shutting the rest of the world out, just you and him. No way either of you are gonna screw up knowing what’s at stake. Years of labor, locks and ceilings all mean nothing when you look at him, the man of your dreams now escorting you into his room with nothing but you on his mind, even back then, even now and forever.
——————————————
“Now, pretty baby, I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to”
282 notes · View notes
Text
The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 4
Tumblr media
Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
Tumblr media
Bucky was speechless after you kissed his hand, even though it was through the leather gloves.
You let go of his hand. "Was that too much? Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed by the offer you gave."
“I take that as a yes?” Bucky asked, still processing.
“Well yeah, didn’t I seal it by kissing your hand? I thought it was clear.” You smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.
Bucky chuckled softly. "That's a new way to accept an offer, but joke aside, I’m grateful you accepted."
You lowered your guard, leaning back slightly. "So what happens next? I have to say, I won’t do anything that makes me a homewrecker."
“Oh gosh, nothing like that,” Bucky reassured you, his tone earnest.
“That’s a relief.” You let out a breath, feeling more at ease.
Suddenly, Bucky's phone rang. He picked it up and saw the caller ID: "Victoria." He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to talk to her at this moment. However, he didn't want to ignore the call either, as his fiancée would quickly learn that he had no feelings for her.
He excused himself to answer the call. "Hello?"
"Hello, my fiancé. I apologize for bothering you, but I heard something that doesn't sit quite right with me. I heard that you are with my older sister?" Victoria asked, her voice calm and cheerful, though her perfectly manicured fingers were crumpling a few papers nervously on the other end.
Bucky felt like he had just been caught cheating. "I am. I have something to discuss with her because of what happened last night."
"Oh, I see. Alright, I won’t bother you. See you soon." Victoria ended the call, smirking as she looked at her phone. She knew Bucky's reputation—quiet and calm but ruthless if disrespected. She remembered how you embarrassed him last night and thought perhaps he was giving you a warning.
Victoria felt a tickle of satisfaction, believing Bucky understood her without her needing to lift a finger. She felt lucky to have him as her fiancé.
Bucky, not entirely sure what had just transpired, felt relieved that Victoria didn't seem suspicious and quickly ended the call.
He returned to you and saw you chatting with the waitress and his secretary. In seconds, you had already become close to new people.
Unlike you, Bucky’s circle of friends all had to undergo background checks before he could trust them.
"Let’s talk in the car. I’ll drop you off," Bucky suggested.
"Sure," you agreed, thinking this would save you transportation money.
Inside the luxurious car, you felt like you were being enveloped by the comfortable seat. Even if you worked for 20 years on your teacher’s salary, you wouldn’t be able to afford this car.
Bucky wore his reading glasses and read a document. He spoke to you without lifting his head. "Tomorrow, after your school is over, I’ll pick you up, and we'll meet my psychiatrist."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
Bucky explained, "He knows my condition, and I hope bringing you to meet him will help us find a solution." His voice sounded serious, a little desperate.
"Have you had this disorder since you were little?" you asked.
He flinched, his hand stopping mid-motion as he was about to flip the paper. "It started when I was 12 years old," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
His expression turned grieving. You knew this was the moment to stop asking questions; after all, you’d just met him for the second time. There’s a limit to how personal you can get with someone you barely know.
🥀🥀🥀🥀
The car stopped in front of a small house. It looked old but cozy, especially the garden with its many flowers. Bucky wondered if it was you who took care of all the roses.
You rolled your eyes, "It was my grandma who has the green thumb."
Bucky glanced at the flowers. "Pretty. I’m grateful for your cooperation, but I hope none of this gets leaked to outsiders."
So he was giving you a warning. You made a gesture of zipping your lips. "My lips are sealed." Then you closed the car door and headed to your house.
After he saw you enter the house, he told his driver to start the car.
You watched the car drive away from behind the curtain.
"Is that your boyfriend, my Ophelia?" The cheerful voice of an older woman startled you. You jumped, turning to see your grandma, Cassandra, standing beside you.
She smiled at you, happiness evident in her eyes, but you couldn't share her joy. To your grandmother, you were her daughter, Ophelia, your mother, who had passed away years ago.
Life had been cruel to her, taking away her only daughter, her son-in-law ignored her, and her business at the same time, which took a significant toll on her. The final blow was dementia.
She didn’t remember you at all. At 70 years old, her mind had regressed to when she was 40. Because of the striking resemblance between you and your mother, she thought you were Ophelia.
You sighed and put on a smile for her. "No, he's just a friend."
Cassandra giggled. "Really? Your father will be jealous when he hears this. Uhuk... uhuk..." She started coughing. You bring her to sit on her chair.
Your heart clenched each time you heard your grandma cough. It was getting worse.
She needed surgery, but you didn't have the money.
Having a rich father like Jonathan was useless because you didn't have access to your money. The reason was clear: Genevieve and Victoria.
She really hated you and wanted you to starve to death.
You quickly put a blanket on Cassandra lap and turned on the air humidifier to help ease her cough.
As you added the eucalyptus and lemongrass essential oil into the humidifier, your eyes caught the family photo on the wall. It was a picture of your family—your dad, your mom, and your grandparents—standing in front of your childhood home. Everyone was gathered to celebrate your birthday. But now, it was all just a memory.
You clenched your fist, feeling a surge of determination. Soon, you would get what was supposed to be yours.
💋💋💋💋
The next day after school, you went with Bucky to see the psychiatrist. But before that, the school was in an uproar because of the clothes you were wearing. You, who always dressed like a vampire hunter in jeans, combat boots, a grey shirt, and a black jacket, were now wearing a casual outfit with a vintage aesthetic.
You wore a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted plaid skirt paired with brown loafers and a light brown blazer with elbow patches. Your hair was styled in soft waves, and you carried a small leather satchel. The change in your appearance left everyone talking.
Jimmy couldn’t believe you were the same teacher who always yelled at him. “Who are you?”
You replied with a smirk, “Your worst nightmare.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite your elegant outfit, you still commanded authority.
Bucky also noticed the change in your appearance. “You look different.”
You explained, “I don’t want your psychiatrist to think that I could be a bad influence on you.”
“Fair point,” he nodded in agreement.
After a while, both of you arrived at the destination, a fancy clinic. The receptionist, already accustomed to Bucky's appointments, greeted him warmly. “He’s waiting for you.”
Bucky led you to the room, which was bright and comfortable, conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. The walls were painted in calming colors and adorned with abstract art, and the furniture was modern yet inviting.
There was already someone sitting in the chair, holding a pen and a writing board. It was Dr. Javier, who had known Bucky for a long time.
Javier waited until both Bucky and you were seated. "You told me that you had a breakthrough. Is it her?" he inquired.
Bucky nodded, taking off his leather gloves and putting on a pulse oximeter on his finger. He then reached for your hand, and you placed yours in his.
Javier widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Bucky showed no signs of panic attacks, and his pulse appeared normal. "Wow. Incredible. How long has this been happening?" Javier asked.
Bucky replied, "Three days."
"After you touched her, you mentioned trying to shake somebody else's hand. Did the panic attacks suddenly reappear then?" Javier inquired further.
Bucky confirmed, "Yes."
Javier wondered what made you so special. Suddenly, he moved closer to you without warning.
You exclaimed, "What the-?"
“Interesting,” Javier nodded. “I can think of one reason: your body fragrance.”
You were taken aback. Did you really smell bad? You started sniffing your clothes. They were still new; you had only worn them three times, and they had been dry cleaned.
Then you remembered, “I am surrounded by buckets of sweat and cigarettes.”
Being around students who smoked and sweated a lot due to their frequent sports activities made you open all the classroom windows to get rid of the smell.
Bucky found it difficult to accept that his disorder could be triggered by your body odor.
Javier felt as though four eyes were judging him. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Your case is one of a kind, Bucky. Perhaps her scent doesn’t trigger your trauma—” He didn’t continue when he felt someone glaring at him.
Trauma? Bucky’s trauma? You wondered what Javier meant.
Bucky crossed his arms and changed the subject. “So the solution to my disorder is the smell of a locker room?”
Javier raised both arms, trying to calm down his patient's anger. “I’m not saying it’s the solution, but it could be.”
Bucky sighed heavily. What kind of nonsense was this? But the way he met you was also out of the blue. His life is full of surprises now.
Tumblr media
Author Note: Poor Cassandra. 🥺 Also the reader is a non-smoker.
Taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@thetravelingtyper
@scott-loki-barnes
@mostlymarvelgirl
@chemtrails-club
@dexter99
@seresingirlie
@missvelvetsstuff
@kjah97
@tfatwsoldir
@itsteambarnes
@toldyouitwasamelodrama
@sapphirebarnes
@thedonswife13
@angelbabyyy99
@cjand10
@esposadomd
@buckitostan
@wh0reforbucknasty
@bada-lee-ily
236 notes · View notes
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?
Heart in debt
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.
Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.
Tumblr media
The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.
Everything was ready.
Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.
The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.
However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.
It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.
And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.
“Then, what would you say is the best way?”  you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.
Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.
“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.
“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.
"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.
"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".
Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did. 
“My love, I'm sorry, I  had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.
"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.
"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.
"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.
"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.
You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.
One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.
Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.
You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.
“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.
“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.
“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.
Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.
One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.
A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.
When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.
A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.
“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.
“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.
“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.
“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.
His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.
“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.
When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.
“My dearest friend.
How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.
Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.
If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”
I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.
While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.   
“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.
Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.
Sincerely, Y/n.”
“Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.
A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.
You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.
“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.
 “I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.
“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.
“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.
“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.    
“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.
“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.
“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.
“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.
“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.
He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.
Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.  
“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.
The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.
“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.
“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.
Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely  to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.
She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.
“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.
“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.  
“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.
“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.  
He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.
“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.
“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.
“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.
He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.
“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.
“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.
“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.
“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.
“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.
“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.
“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died,  “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.
“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.
“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.
“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.  
286 notes · View notes
webnovel-liker · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Kitty cat :3
4 notes · View notes
freak-accident419 · 7 months
Text
Soft Spot
Derek Danforth x GN!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: After a long, frustrating day of work, Derek comes back home to you for comfort. Being the tough, asshole-ish, and reckless man he was on the outside, he easily melts into you with sweetness and submission. After all, he had such a soft spot for you.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, cuddling, cursing, reader babying Derek, reader feeding him cherries (putting their fingers in his mouth, wow) but it’s not sexual (maybe only slightly suggestive), reader and Derek are engaged already, basically tooth-rotting fluff and intimacy, short but sweet, inspired by a scene from S02E06 of The Bear
-
You were laying on the mattress in the bedroom that you and Derek shared, looking down at your phone while eating cherries from the nightstand. There was a sweet domesticity to it—you in your pajamas, snuggled up in bed, waiting for your boyfriend (or rather, fiancé) to come back home.
Derek had a long, exhausting day of work. He thought today was going to be like every other day, relaxed and held back, but instead, he had to deal with so much bullshit from Danforth Enterprises, including international affairs and money complications. And his employees made things even worse, their incompetence driving him insane until every sentence he spoke had at least one “fuck” in it. And not only that, but UDG and Nine Star were experiencing setbacks and issues that could have probably been easily fixed if it wasn’t for his idiotic employees. After an entire day of yelling at his absentminded workers with hostility, he was so desperate to just come home to you.
It was only until the evening when you finally saw Derek in the doorway of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looked… rough, to say the least, despite the fact he was wearing a fancy and highly expensive black suit. He was still very attractive, of course, especially in that suit, but right now he just looked utterly exhausted. You turned off your phone, placing it face down on the nightstand to give him your full attention.
“Hey, my love,” you coo softly, smiling up at him.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbles tiredly, slowly walking towards you.
“Rough day?”
“Yeah.”
“Come here,” you grin, grabbing him by his black necktie to bring his lips to yours, sharing a brief, soft kiss. Then he lazily went into bed, melting into your arms with his head buried in your neck. He melted into you entirely. He felt comforted and warm in your embrace, the tension in his muscles gradually dissipating.
“They didn’t keep you too long, did they?” You ask gently, holding him closely as you caress his hair.
“They totally did, Y/n. Today was a fucking mess,” he huffs, yet already too relaxed to even raise his voice. “I swear, baby, these guys are so fucking incompetent and can’t do their goddamn jobs. Those fucks give me such a migraine.”
You continue to stroke his hair and then his face. “Aww, my poor baby,” you coo soothingly. Derek loved all of it, leaning into your touch and just being limp in your arms. However, he would shoot anyone else who witnessed him in this state. “Westwyld just hired a whole bunch of idiots. He’s even an idiot himself. It’s none of your fault, my love.”
He sighs softly, nuzzling into your neck further. “I know,” he mumbles dismissively. “But it’s just so fucking frustrating because I feel like I always have to do everything ‘cause they keep fucking things up. Like, what are we even paying them for if they can’t do their fucking job?”
You chuckle under your breath. “I know, honey, I know,” you whisper. “Well, that’s why you’re the CEO, yeah? To keep everything, you know, all balanced and orderly?” He hummed in understanding. You look over to the nightstand, then grabbed a cherry from the box. Derek noticed this action and pulled his head out from your neck, now sitting up against the bed frame. You then guided the small, red fruit to his lips. “Open,” you order in a gentle voice.
You watched him open his mouth and you placed the cherry in, letting the stem rip off, placing it in a bowl for stems and pits. He began to chew it slowly, indulging in the sweet and juicy sensation in his mouth while also enjoying the fact that you were feeding him. The cherry tasted different than any others he had tried, all sweet with no bitter or even slightly tart aftertaste. “Mm, these are good, where did you get these?” He asked with a mouthful of cherry flesh, his speech slightly muffled.
“Hm, it was a shipment from Japan,” you answer. “I think they’re, like, the most expensive cherries in the world… Open,” you say again, letting your fingers enter his mouth to grab the pit, placing the seed in the bowl on the nightstand. In the few seconds your fingers were in his mouth, it was arousing and suggestive, to say the least. But all you wanted to do right now was to take care of him with the least amount of energy possible. If he was fatigued, then you should let him rest.
“I can’t believe I’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering down to his shiny silver engagement ring.
“And I can’t believe I’m marrying you, my love,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, reaching over to the nightstand to grab another cherry. His lips parted, letting you place it in his mouth, eating it contently. “How did your day go, baby? Like, before everything went to shit. Tell me all the good.”
After he ate most of the cherry’s flesh, he let your fingers in his mouth once more, removing the pit and placing it in the bowl. There was something so curiously intimate about this moment, feeding him, removing the pit for him, and holding him close.
“Had my usual coffee,” he answers quietly.
“Oh yeah? Your flat white with oat milk?”
“And extra shot of espresso—”
“—extra espresso, yes,” you giggle, stroking his hair once more. “How much espresso does one need? Like, flat whites are meant to have a higher espresso-to-milk ratio, yet you still want more.”
He pouted, looking at you from the side. “But it’s good.”
“Do you even need to say ‘extra shot of espresso’? Like, as a flat white, I’m pretty sure they’re adding more espresso than, say, a latte,” you grin.
“I know, but I want more than usual, like, more than a flat white,” he reasons, yet his delivery suggesting that he was lying.
“Wow. You’re just greedy, aren’t you?”
“You know me,” he mumbles.
“You don’t know the difference, do you? Is that why you always ask for an extra shot, just to make sure?” You say, calling him out.
He just pouts silently at your teasing, which only amused your further. “You’re a dork,” you giggle.
“Meanie.”
“You’re the meanie. You never answered my call,” you utter. It was true. He was too caught up with work that he didn’t even know you called him up at that time.
“Oh, shit…” he sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I was just so busy today, I totally forgot to get back to you.”
You frown. “Hey, no, don’t—don’t apologize, I was just teasing. I know how busy you were today and I’m sorry that you were surrounded by idiots. You’re okay.”
“Okay.”
For one last time, you grab a cherry, guiding it into his mouth. You wait for him to chew it until you’d take the pit out from his mouth. You wipe some of the fruit’s juice off the corner of his lips, but suddenly, his mouth welcomes in your fingers once more, sucking lightly on your fingertips before you pulled them away to kiss his lips passionately. It was a patient, loving kiss, your lips moving slowly with his as you savored the cherry taste on him.
You had him in an embrace in one arm and the other was occupied by cupping his face gently. Your touch was tender, making him feel comforted and warm. You looked closely at his face, absorbing all of the details. You could see the faint freckles spread across his nose and cheeks. He was so close to you. And he was beautiful.
“Hi,” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Hi,” he whispers back.
“You’re so cute,” you comment.
You caress the side of his face as he enjoyed feeling your soft palm and fingertips graze his cheek. His eyes closed sleepily, completely infatuated with your soothing touch and the way you encompassed his body. You pressed a kiss on the top of his head. And again. And again.
He felt small.
Like, smaller than usual.
He was completely vulnerable with you and it was freeing. This was a part of him that nobody else but you knew about. He could curse and be a privileged, arrogant dickhead whenever he pleased, but at the end of the day, he is always succumbing to your embrace and warmth. He was indisputably smitten with you—infatuated, even. You were the only person he could be fragile around.
“You know, your mom is always on my ass about you,” you chuckle, pressing two soft kisses on the top of his head as you pet his curls.
“Huh? I thought she liked y—”
“No, no, it’s not like that. She just asks me about you all the time. How you’re doing and everything.”
“Oh.”
“I think it’s because she knows you only open up to me,” you point out.
“Yeah, well… She’s been busy her whole life. I’ve never gotten the time to… You know… Actually have a full, authentic conversation with her.”
You kiss the top of his head once more, then let your head rest on it. “Mommy issues?”
He hums in response.
“Does the fact that she and Westwyld having some weird thing—in the past, at least—also affect your relationship with her?” You ask curiously.
“Well, sort of. I don’t know, he always acts—”
“He tries to act like a dad to you, yeah,” you giggle.
There was a silent pause as you two just cuddled each other, Derek, especially, feeling safe in your arms.
“Stop investing in crypto,” you murmur, stroking his hair.
“Mm, stop crushing my dreams,” he grumbles wearily.
“Your ‘dreams’ would get us broke if you weren’t already a billionaire.”
He chuckles and you proceed to caress him gently, observing him silently.
“S’it too hot, my love?” You inquire gently, beginning to help him remove his tie and then his blazer once he nodded. “Better?” He hummed as you placed the clothes at the end of the bed and went back to cuddling him.
He was closer than before, laying down beside you with his face buried into your neck. He held onto your waist tightly as if you’d disappear any second, and your arms wrapped around him generously. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and hold him warmly.
“You’re going to be my husband…” you whisper sweetly, kissing the top of his head once more.
“Mm, you’re going to be my spouse…” he mirrors.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too. So, so much.” Derek mutters sleepily, melting into your touch.
You rubbed his back, letting your head rest against his. Until finally, after peppering his face and head with kisses, you two fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling safe and secure.
302 notes · View notes
brunchable · 8 days
Text
Movie Night | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairings: Fiance Bucky Barnes x f!reader Themes: FLUFF, FLUFF. IT'S SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE. BUCKY JUST BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE. Summary: You come home exhausted from another day of work, not expecting Bucky to surprise you with a little heart-warming gesture to show you how much he appreciates you. A/N: Bucky is so baby boy in my heart <3 he deserves to be happy :')
You walked through the front door after a long day, the weight of the world seemingly sitting on your shoulders. You dropped your keys onto the table and toed off your shoes, ready to collapse on the couch and maybe watch some mindless TV when you noticed something odd. Your living room lights were off, but there was a soft, warm glow coming from inside... a fort?
You blinked, taking in the sight. There, in the middle of your living room, was a massive pillow fort. Cushions, blankets, and pillows of every kind were stacked together, forming walls and towers. Fairy lights were strung around the outside, casting a soft glow over the entire space. The entrance was a small gap, just wide enough for someone to crawl through. You smiled, already knowing who was behind this.
"Bucky?" you called, your voice filled with amusement.
From inside the fort, you heard a muffled, "Come in, if you dare."
Laughing, you crouched down and peeked inside. Bucky was lying on his back, surrounded by an array of snacks, blankets, and your favorite movies lined up on the tablet in front of him. He grinned up at you, his eyes soft and playful. 
"I built us the fortress of restorous," he said dramatically, holding up a bag of popcorn as if it were a prized treasure.
You crawled inside, the fort much bigger than you thought. It was like stepping into a cozy little world of your own. 
“You did all of this?” you asked, settling down beside him. The pillows were impossibly soft and you found your muscles relaxing and the stress from your work fading away.
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pride in his eyes gave him away. “I figured you could use a little break. Plus, it’s movie night.”
You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “This is amazing, Buck.”
He turned toward you, propping his head on his hand as he gazed at you with that soft, thoughtful expression you loved. “You’ve been working so hard, lately. I just want you to know that you're amazing.”
Your heart melted at his words, the care and effort he’d put into this gesture. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
His cheeks flushed slightly, but he grinned as he handed you a bag of your favourite snacks. “Alright, pick a movie. I’ve got everything lined up.”
“DVDs? Where did you even get this? Let alone a DVD player?” You chuckled holding up the case for White Chicks (2004). 
“I bought them,” He paused a beat when he saw your brows starting to furrow, “With my money okay? Your fiancé is old fashioned, just in case your little noggin’ forgot.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you playfully nudged Bucky’s shoulder. "My fiancé, huh? Guess that means I'm stuck with you, old-fashioned DVDs and all," you teased, holding up the case for emphasis. "But seriously, this is kind of adorable. You with a DVD player? It's like a time capsule here."
Bucky grinned, his expression softening as he leaned back against the pillows. "Classic movies, cozy nights... maybe we’ll even get a record player next."
You smiled warmly at him, your heart felt full at how much thought he put into the evening. 
"You know," you said softly, "you always find a way to surprise me. And I love every bit of it." you paused, looking down at the DVD case in your hands before glancing back at him with a smirk. "But I’ll warn you, if you start quoting this movie word for word, you’ll owe me a lot more than just a cozy night in a pillow fort.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, matched with a raised brow.
You grinned, leaning in closer until your faces were only inches apart. “You’ll owe me... a whole day of doing whatever I want. No complaints, no arguing. Just you, me, and whatever ridiculous adventure I come up with.”
“Whatever you want, huh? You think you can handle me agreeing to anything without a fight?”
You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I’ll make sure it’s something unforgettable.”
He smirked, “Alright, deal. But only if you can stay awake through the whole movie without falling asleep on my shoulder like last time.”
You gasped dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, James Barnes, I did not fall asleep! I was just… resting my eyes.”
Bucky chuckled, pulling yor closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, baby.”
You spent the next few hours nestled in the little fort, watching silly comedies and adventure films, laughing so hard at times both of you almost cried. Every now and then, Bucky would nudge you with his shoulder, his playful side showing as he whispered sarcastic comments about the characters on screen.
But the real magic was in the quiet moments. The way Bucky's arm slowly found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest. The warmth of his body seeping into yours as the world outside the fort seemed to disappear. His hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lay there, completely content in your cosy little world.
At some point during the night, after the third movie, you turned your head slightly to look up at him. He was staring at the screen, his face bathed in the soft glow of the fairy lights, a small smile tugging at his lips. You couldn’t help but admire how peaceful he looked. He deserves that more than anyone else.
Without thinking, you whispered, “I love you.”
The words slipped out so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realise what you’d said until Bucky's head snapped down to look at you. For a moment, you panicked, your heart racing. But then, a soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.
“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice tender. “Always.”
You felt your heart swell, and you snuggled deeper into his arms, letting the warmth of his love and the comfort of the little fort wrap around you like a blanket. As the night grew later and the movies played on, you knew that no matter what, this moment – this simple, perfect moment in the pillow fort – was something you would treasure forever.
And as both of you drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other and the fort Bucky had built, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, in your little fortress of love and warmth.
143 notes · View notes
beansricejc · 1 year
Text
Returning the Favor - John Wick x F!Reader
Tumblr media
⚠️warnings: DUBCON, smut, piv, facial, pressured intimacy, implied abuse (not John), graphic depictions of violence, cursing, alcohol, blackmail, noncon pictures, no use of y/n!, 3716 words.
a/n: it’s me again, back with something I’ve been cooking for a few days. life is wild rn but I hope u all enjoy!
summary: John does a hit for you, at no cost, and now he wants something in return. it’s only fair, right?
John remembers your little face. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his insistence of doing this job free of charge. The split skin on your lip and the bruising on your cheek and wrists, he can picture it clearly.
He pictured you walking up to him in the alley outside of the Continental, where a friend of yours told you he would be.
He recalled the way you asked about his services.
“Who do you need gone?” he had asked, as you handed him a manilla envelope. That’s when he noticed the blue and yellow pattern that littered your skin when you reached your hand out to him to give him the paperwork.
“My fiancé.” you stammered out of those damaged lips of yours. “He’s the chief of police, and I’ve tried getting away, getting protection orders, but he’s able to just get rid of anything I do.” you elaborated.
John’s eyebrows raised at the sound of that. He added the context clues together and immediately understood, especially after seeing your bruises. John assumed you weren’t a kickboxer in your spare time.
He’s still able to admire your delicate features, despite the fact you’re not trying exactly to look pretty. He can still tell that you have gorgeous eyes and long lashes, a nice haircut that frames your well shaped face to perfection. Your skin is smooth and clear, and your body? Even though you’re in a cropped hoodie, you do have leggings on.
Oh leggings. Truly underrated in all aspects. The way the cloth clings to your body, shaping around your hips, thighs, and ass.
Truly beautiful. He can tell.
Maybe he could use this to his advantage? Not necessarily the most morally correct way to get a woman, but it could do the trick.
And use he did. He would use it to his advantage, in a simple and innocent move.
“I’ll do it. No charge.” John replied to you, you’re taken aback by the sudden generosity from him, you’re so shaken by the entire situation you don’t even notice his eyes trailing your entire figure and checking you out.
“Really? No, I can’t let you,” you insist, handing him a duffel bag full of 5 figures of cold hard cash, but he simply refuses it.
“We can discuss it later…” John says, shaking his head and outright not taking the bag. “Keep your money. Please.”
-
He’s thinking of this encounter as his blade thrusts into your fiance’s throat, finally getting the winning blow after their quite large altercation. As a police captain, your fiancé knew how to hold his own in a fight quite well.
Not well enough apparently.
Your fiancé gurgles as John shoves him against his bed, the blade destroying his vocal chords and windpipe. John makes one swift movement with his wrist, and the blade rips out of his flesh, separating several tendons. The severed arteries cause blood to squirt onto John’s neck and face.
“No one likes a woman beater.” John clicked his tongue at the dying police officer, who crumpled to the floor, blood pooling from his lethal wound and onto the carpet. A bubbling sound echoes from his mouth, the red liquid dribbling from his lips, and in a few more moments, his eyes are drained of any life that was left in them.
John rolled his own eyes and quickly did his best to destroy the good condition of the condo, making it seem like a robbery gone wrong. He grabbed a few things that looked of value, including a few expensive watches and some impressive Japanese chef knives, and went on his way.
-
You had stayed at your friend’s house in the meantime. Anxiety spiked through your chest, hoping everything was going to plan. You honestly weren’t able to take it anymore, your fiancé had really outdid himself this time. You had gone out with your girlfriends for some drinks on Saturday night, he didn’t appreciate you not sharing your location with him. So the obvious reaction? To beat the absolute piss out of you. You were wearing a sweater in 70 degree weather because of the purple and blue marks that littered your skin, including on your arms, abdomen, and back.
You had enough. Clearly enough to save up money doing side gigs without him knowing and saving enough to pay for a hitman that a friend of a friend told you about. You’re playing something with your friend on her Nintendo Switch as you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.
You frantically grab the device, opening it to find a text from an unknown number.
It’s done. Meet me at the Continental’s bar.
Your heart dropped to your stomach. That could only mean one thing. The job was finished.
He was finally dead.
Sighing in relief, your friend raised her eyebrows and turned to you.
“You good?” she asked.
“Huh?” You say out of the blue, shaking yourself out of your solace. “Yeah. Never better.” you force a smile.
-
John waited for you at the bar, he had changed and showered, washing the blood that had gotten on him from his little altercation with your now ex. The atmosphere is the typical Continental’s vibe, comfortable, upscale. He’s waiting for you at a small table with an open bottle of champagne. John hadn’t been able to get your cute face and nice figure off of his mind since he met you the other day. The day when he said to not worry about paying him.
Well, today he’d discuss another form of payment he was interested in. A favor for a favor one would say. A body for a body.
He wanted you.
His eyes trail up towards you who just arrived, wearing a simple yet oh so flattering outfit, your eyes are glued to your cell phone while you walk in.
John cleared his throat and shot you a little wave of his hand, catching your attention. Your beautiful eyes widen, and you smile at him, slipping your phone into the purse slung over your shoulder as you make your way over to his table. John couldn’t help but check your entire body out. Your face, legs, tits, even the way your hips swayed a bit while you walked made him just want to take a bite out of them.
God, you looked delicious.
Sitting down, you smiled at John.
“Hey, how are you?” you asked him, attempting to disguise the fact that you’re freaking out. Several emotions have been pumping in and out of your brain, you don’t know how to exactly feel. Grief? Safe? Relief? Distress?
Especially in front of the man that solved your biggest issue in your life within a manner of minutes. How do you present yourself in front of him? More importantly, how are you going to possibly defend yourself to the police?
Only time will tell.
John sighs, you sit down. He begins to speak as he pours your light, bubbly glass of alcohol.
“Not too bad, actually.” John answered your initial greeting. “More importantly, how are you, my dear?” John boomerangs your question. Your heartbeat accelerated and you set your purse in your lap.
“Complicated. I’ll figure it out later.” is what you manage to come up with, biting the inside flesh of your mouth, your delicate fingers are silently tinkering with the zipper pull of your purse that sits just under the table. Of course he asked that. This is what he does for a living, he doesn’t think twice about the act.
The two of you engage in small talk, and it’s surprisingly refreshing. John has a lovely smile for a killer, with his nicely maintained dark scruff outlining his cheeks and jaw whenever he chuckles at a quip of yours. His brown eyes are always in a narrowed position but they seem to always glow towards you, never taking them off of your face for a moment.
You don’t know it at first, of course you don't. John’s a professional. He's deliberate in every breath, every shift of his body, in such a way that could only be described as masterful.
You don’t notice him until he has taken forty-five minutes to inch closer to you in his chair, shifting every so often to eventually, be brushing up against your delicate frame, arm to arm.
By now you’re on your third glass of champagne, you simply didn’t want to think about any of your problems, to just enjoy your time with this man that simply did you a favor.
Right?
“I’d like to request something of you.” John suddenly says in the middle of a conversation about your hometown. He’s been awfully interested in different topics about your life, you haven’t even thought twice about it. “I can’t tarnish my reputation with the fact that I did a job, free of charge.” John states, his head tilted directly down at little ol’ you, who’s currently sipping your drink.
Your heart drops to your gut while you swallow.
“…that’s fine. I still have the mon-“
“I don’t want the money. It’s not important to me.” John interjected, with his hand suddenly resting on your soft upper thigh, the feeling of his long fingers squeezing the limb almost making you jump from your seat.
The way his thin brown eyes are gazing over you and your figure, it would have sent most people into cardiac arrest. You put two and two together, holding your breath as you maintain eye contact.
“I see.” were the words you whispered while he gave you a soft and endearing smile.
But those eyes? Those eyes were cold. The pair of his told you things you couldn’t imagine repeating.
Before you can say anything else, John’s lips travel to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin as he speaks. The hairs on the back of your pretty neck stand straight up at the knowledge of how close he was to you.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I took the job.” John informs you, his voice low and sultry, only meant for you to hear at that moment in time. “I made sure he suffered. And you owe me for that. Least you could do is… well,” John’s eyes trail down your figure, especially eying your cleavage.
Your heart is breaking. There was a twinge of hope in the back of your mind, aching for this man to be the one. The one to swoop you off of your feet and come save you like the damsel in distress that you were. But men are so disappointing.
“So, are you going to give me what I want? Or do I need to take it?” John sharply asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your blood turns cold at the thought of this killer having his way with you, touching you, fucking you. You were stuck. The anger churned in your gut as you clenched your jaw.
“Fine.”
Several minutes pass, and he has led you to his hotel room on the 8th floor, unlocking it and allowing you to enter first. You can only tell the luxuries this man has at his disposal, just from the glamorous hotel room he has brought you to.
The room is dimly lit, with a few candles he begins to light and the moon shining through the curtained windows. You furrow your eyebrows, biting your tongue, as you never imagined John, the killer, to be the romantic ambience type. You suddenly snap out of your head when he calls you by your name.
“Hm?” you ask, eyes wide as he’s turned towards you next to the bed.
“I asked, is there anything you’re uncomfortable doing? And what’s your preferred pace?” John repeated himself, apparently you had been stuck in your own thoughts and didn’t catch it the first time.
Of course there are things you’re not comfortable with in bed. Hell, you’re not even comfortable doing this with a man you hardly know!
You tell him the few things that are completely off limits with you, he ponders this and nodded his head, agreeing to your terms, even though this was a favor you were returning. The man, perhaps 20 years your senior, hasn’t broken eyesight with your figure for the past hour.
You almost feel like a meal that’s been prepared, just for him. Served on a silver platter and sent directly to his room, waiting to be ravaged upon. You wouldn’t be surprised if he began drooling soon.
He wasn’t kidding when he told you he’s been thinking about this since he met you a few days ago. It’s like you’ve tattooed yourself into his fleshy and morbid brain, refusing to let go, tormenting him with every small action you did, unintentionally or not.
But your curiosity is killing you.
“What pace do you prefer?” you shoot the question back at him instead of answering it yourself. You were experienced, sure. You were a grown woman. The past several months were filled with abuse and subpar sex with your (now dead) fiancé. Not that this owed favor would be any better, you’re expecting something that lasts maybe a few minutes just so John can get his stress out.
Of course you’re not expecting John to be generous, especially if this is simply a debt to be paid by your body.
John tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue in thought while he sauntered over to you, who was on the opposing side of the bed. His eyes linger on you, not blinking even once as he soaks in your features. His rough hands began to undo his black silk tie, unbuttoning his white dress shirt that had already been stripped of its suit jacket. His knuckles are bruised and scabbed, John’s been a busy boy this week.
“It seems I may have grown a bit, fond, of you, this week.” John says, clearing his throat. “Can I show you how I want you?”
Your heart rate goes up, you bit the inside of your cheek, blinking up at the tall and intimidating creature that is John. It’s not like you can say no. You owe him. You owe him your life, he practically saved yours, no matter how unethical this was.
So you nod your head.
Moments pass but it doesn’t take John long to practically rip off your cute outfit, revealing the soft and sexy figure underneath. His bruised hands immediately grab you, he’s completely overtaken by the reminder of how small and delicate you look. Your sheer size difference between you and him, in height and weight, makes him so fucking erect. John shoved you against the fancy hotel wall, attaching his lips to yours, initiating a dance of tongues and teeth, taking your bottom pink lip and nibbling a bit. The move earns a squeak from your throat. John takes a moment to take his hands off of your soft flesh, disconnecting his lips from yours. John unzips his pants, letting them and his heavy belt fall to the floor.
It doesn’t take a second thought for him to reattach his hands to your thighs, grunting as he easily lifted your body up and to his level, with easier access to your lips and… well, your other pair of lips.
In the few minutes that you’ve been kissing, your cunt began to glisten with your arousal, especially now with John’s bare and rock hard cock pressing up to your small entrance.
“Shit, I just know you’re a tight little thing, huh?” John growled, using his innate strength to only hold you up by one arm, spitting into his hand and rubbing the slick between the tiny folds between your thighs. You moan as he delicately rubbed your clit, then giving himself a few pumps to wet his length.
“You gonna give up your pretty little pussy to pay me back? Huh? Gonna be a good hole for me to fuck?” John asked in a gruff and low tone into your ear, while you felt his thick tip push inside. Your breath hitched at the burn of his unexpectedly large dick, your cunt can only adjust so much in so little time.
“Agh! Y-y-yeah, just like that, please,” you stammered, gripping hard onto his muscular and wide back while he began to thrust. John gave you little to no time to get used to his length. You’re quickly able to adjust to his pace while he grabs your hips and thighs, moving you up and down on his cock that he was simultaneously thrusting into. Tonight, you’d be his good little fuck toy.
“Fuck, need to be deeper in you.” John growled, manhandling you and tossing you onto the hotel mattress. Within seconds, he had flipped your body, stomach side down and pulled your ass straight up in the air, giving you a few hard smacks.
You cry out in pain but before you can say anything, he’s already jammed his cock back into your tight cunt, with you squeezing yourself around him, earning yourself a few tender moans from John.
John took his large hand to grab the roots of your hair, pulling your head and neck back while John pounded into you, causing you to go dizzy. He’s fucking you almost like a rabid animal, and for some reason, you love it. The two of you resemble dogs in heat, while he relentlessly thrusted into your already sore pussy, moving his hand from your hair to around your throat. You can even feel his balls smack the cusp of your ass, informing you that he’s been fucking you with his full length for a bit now. You swore you could feel John’s cock in your stomach, moaning and begging out loud for him.
John’s hand tightens around your throat, restricting as much oxygen as possible, quieting your moans and cries for more.
He brings his other hand and spanks your red ass again, it’s gonna hurt to sit down for the next few days, but the sensation along with him fucking you from behind was a delicious combination.
“Good little slut, who’s my whore? Huh?” John asked, spanking you again. The sting of your ass is almost too much to bear.
You struggle to answer, but you do it.
“M-me! I’m your little whore.” Your scratchy voice strains. He flips over your pretty body again, his hands and eyes glazing over the front of you. You’re going to hurt tomorrow. You can only imagine all of the bruises and scratches you’ll be finding over the next few days.
“I’m the luckiest man in the world right now.” John mumbled, spreading your legs all the way to your chest and putting himself into you, thrusting over and over again. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your cervix, making you whimper and cry out, your nails dig into his biceps, and he couldn’t care less. “So fuckin’ beautiful, just for me…” John grunts under his breath. He lets out an intense groan from the bottom of his throat, pulling out of your sopping wet hole. You almost frown.
Unfortunately, you ended up beginning to like this favor you owed a bit too much. So much so that you begin to whine and pout the second that John pulled himself from you.
The older man bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, forcing himself to stifle his wicked smirk as he peers down at a desperate and needy little thing from below.
That thing being you, of course.
“Oh?” John asked innocently, despite the filthy sin you two were committing at the moment. “What do we have here?”
Remember when I mentioned that you were a meal in waiting?
Well, John was about to devour you.
He’s starving for you, attaching his lips and tongue to the folds he’s been unforgivably pumping into for the past half an hour. The sensation of his calloused fingers gripping and spreading your fleshy thighs apart, with malicious intent, mixed with the gentle and needy laps his tongue is giving your pussy is nearly too much to handle. He even gives your clit a few soft motions with his lips, your vision is blacking out from the carnal ecstasy John is so humbly gifting you at the moment.
Your ears can pick up a soft grunting from him, he’s taking his free hand and twisting it up and down on his shaft, touching himself to the act of him savoring your cunt.
John pushes two of his long fingers into you while he quickens the pace on your sensitive core, earning a sudden scream from you, jolting up and arching your back. John opens his eyes, not stopping, rather just looking at the way your tits bounced when you arch your back.
You were close. Way too close. John’s fingers were skillfully working you up, and you began to unconsciously clench around them.
“J-John, I’m gonna-“
“Cum for me.” John interrupted, his mouth still in your pussy as he kept his movements steady. He let out a few masculine whimpers into your clit while you lost control of your senses.
Your orgasm nearly brings you to the brink of tears, your vision blacks out, this is a completely new way to experience a climax. Your small hands grip the hell out of the hotel bed sheets, John allows you to ride out your orgasm, while you’re still recovering with your eyes closed, he quickly moves up towards you, and you feel a hot sticky substance splash onto your lips and cheeks.
“Fuck.” John catches his breath, panting and trembling along with you as he came on your face.
And there was a ton of it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you immediately shut them again, noticing that he wasn’t done, with more thick white ropes of his seed spurting now onto your nose and brow, painting a licentious portrait onto your delicate features.
You hear a click, and can see the outline of a bright flash through your closed eyes, but with your cock drunk state, you wouldn’t even think to mention it to John.
Besides, now he has a pretty little Polaroid picture of the facial he gave you, just the right size to keep in his wallet for safe keeping.
Now he has a bit of leverage on you, just in case he'd like another favor like this again. You wouldn’t want him to spread such a lewd picture of yourself around the internet, now would you?
He’ll enjoy every last bit of you for every single session you two share together. He’ll take advantage of your vulnerability and willingness to cave at any slight disadvantage you had.
You were his, and you didn’t even know it.
1K notes · View notes
honestlywtf04 · 2 years
Text
𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐲
warning: lap dance, lots of teasing, twerking, some nsfw content, 🎶 vinnie gets a boner 🎶
summary: he didn't expect you to be at his bachelor party, but he definitely didn't expect the gift you gave to him.
author's note: i have never written a lap dance, the last time i did, it was horrendous. so please bear with me. ignore any mistakes.
Tumblr media
"vinnie! we got something for you! close your eyes and sit down in this chair!" you hear jett yell at your fiancée from the bathroom. he doesn't know that you're here at his bachelor party, he thinks that you're at home with your friends or maybe sleeping.
your bachelorette party happened a week ago, he and his friends planned his own bachelor party today. his friends' original plan was to get him a bunch of strippers but then they simultaneously realized that it would be too much since they would have to pay a lot of money and the last time they did it to someone... it didn't turn out as planned, long story short he was pissed.
so jack called you and asked if you were willing to surprise him and give him a lap dance at his party in front of all the people. you were hesitant but vinnie was and is a great boyfriend and now fiancée, so he deserved a little more than what he typically gets.
now he is sitting in a chair, in the middle of a crowd blindfolded and doesn't know what's going happen. he's terrified and a little excited. the only thing circling his mind is 'did they get me my own taco truck'.
someone knocks on your door and you immediately walk out to see jack. "you ready?" he asks you and you simply nod. you take one last look in the mirror to make sure your outfit looks good. "excited and ready," you step out and jack takes your hand, leading you towards the man that is currently sitting down biting his lip anxiously with a blindfold covering his eyes.
"alright! everyone listen up. let's take a moment to clap for our friend vinnie here who is probably wondering why he is blindfolded," jett says into the microphone and not too long after everyone starts cheering and whistling.
"so vinnie- or should i say vincent, we managed to get you something you will probably like, just a little," people start laughing and vinnie does the middle finger not knowing where jett is at.
jack grabs your hand and has you stand directly in front of your fiancée. "alright enough stalling, vinnie take off your blindfold."
when he removes his blindfold, the first thing he sees is his beautiful fiancée wearing one of his favorite sets of lingerie that he loves on you. you watch his eyebrows raise and his cheeks turning a little rosy. you place your hand on your hip and raise your eyebrow, teasing him. his eyes scanning every inch of your body.
jett walks over to him and puts the microphone in front of vinnie. "i- um, wow."
"happy bachelor party vincent! now sit there, and enjoy," jett says and not long after, the DJ starts playing "Pony - Ginuwine."
you step closer to him and spread his legs, putting your foot right in front of his crotch, ignoring the cheers from the crowd behind you. you touch your ankle and start traveling it upwards, stopping once you reach your upper thigh.
you sit down on his lap and start to grind on him, making direct eye contact with him. he places his hands on your hips but you quickly move them away hearing people going "ooooh."
you stand up and walk behind his chair, moving your hand down, above his bulge and start moving it up very slowly. when you reach his chest, you feel his heart beating fast which causes you to smirk. and grab his head and force him to look up at you. as you lean down, his eyes stay on your face and anxiously waits for your lips to touch his but you move away and sit yourself on his lap, your back facing him.
you lean down to touch your heels feeling his eyes on your ass. you turn back around and decide to be a little risky so you place your area directly on his bulge seeing his eyes slightly widen and look down to where you are both touching intimately. you begin to move your hips to the rhythm of the song hearing him breathing heavily. you move your breasts closer to his face feeling his hot breath hitting them.
"y/n," he whispers but you ignore him and continue your sexual movements. "i don't want them to see my boner," he quietly mumbles which makes you grind even harder on him. you grab his chin making eye contact with him. he looks down at your lips with his mouth open. you pull his bottom lip down with your thumb and stand up, seeing his confused expression. you watch one of his friends give him a stack of what you believe is one-dollar bills.
vinnie looks confused until he sees you bend down a bit and start to shake your ass. you hear many people start to cheer and applaud. soon you start hearing the man behind you start to laugh and throw the money on you.
the song ends and you finish what you were doing. you hear him stand up and touch your waist with his hands not caring about the people watching.
you turn around and push vinnie back down on the chair. he looks at me amused and almost proud. you lean down, grab his jaw and give him a very long kiss.
"upstairs, 10 minutes, third door on the right, and i'll take care of you, that's my real gift," you whisper seductively in his ear and not so sneakily trail my hand down to his bulge before walking upstairs.
1K notes · View notes
vulpesorion · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello! My fiancé and I are trying to raise money for the treatment for a stray that we rescued a few days ago. Please boost if you can!
Art commission form:
Crochet commission form:
66 notes · View notes
firelordsfirelady · 2 months
Text
XXIII. The Necklace
Author: @firelordsfirelady
Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 
Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader
Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal, language
Word Count: 1427
Destined to be Yin and Yang 
I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story. 
Author’s Notes
The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 
Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.
See Y/N’s inspiration here. 
Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)
A few weeks later, Zuko and  I were in the middle of a training session when the sudden turning of the ship threw Zuko and I onto the ground with a loud thud. Zuko let out a soft groan as his body cushioned my landing. Both of our cheeks turned red at how close our faces were before we both scrambled to stand up. Zuko avoided looking at me as he stormed off towards the captain’s cabin as he complained about no one ordering a change of course. Quickly following behind him, I followed him into the steering room where Iroh sat at a pai sho game table. The gentleman all looked at the checkered boxes on the table and moved circular wooden tiles with painted symbols around to various spots.
“No one told you to change course.” Zuko angrily said to the captain as he approached.
“Actually,” Iroh said as he studied the tiles on the table in front of him. “Someone did.” I casually leaned against the wall by the door as Zuko turned around to look at his older uncle. “I can assure you that it is a matter of importance.”
“There’s news of the Avatar?” Zuko’s question sounded hopeful as Iroh stroked the beard on his chin while he pondered his next move. 
“I fear it is even more urgent than that.” I felt my own eyebrow raise at the older firebender’s statement as Iroh looked to the Prince. “You see--” Iroh sighed heavily as he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I’ve lost my lotus tile.” I let out a chuckle as Iroh slide a tile across the board and Zuko looked deflated.
“Lotus tile?” He asked and Iroh nodded towards the game on the table.
“Everyone underestimates the power of the lotus tile in pai sho because they often deem it insignificant.” Iroh slide another tile on the board as he spoke. “However, it is essential for the unusual strategy I use.” 
“So, let me get this straight,” Zuko started in a calm manner, “You changed our course…” The fire prince took a deep breath before he continued. “For a stupid lotus tile?” I laughed at the exchange between the two firebenders before I smiled at Zuko’s angry stance.
“A ten minute trip to the merchant stalls won’t harm anything. Who knows, maybe there will be some news of the Avatar.” I shrugged as Zuko let out a breath of fire towards the ceiling, and Iroh laughed.
“I’m glad someone appreciates the value of the lotus tile.” Iroh threw a wink my way as I lightly chuckled at Zuko.
“Lucky are you, Iroh, to have such a compassionate nephew.” I threw a wink towards Zuko before I left the room as Zuko’s cheeks turned red and Iroh belly laughed with the men around the table.
Zuko begrudgingly accompanied Iroh and I as we arrived at the port to browse the merchant stalls. I slipped away from the Firebenders as Iroh gushed over some musical instruments at one of the stands. Iroh had given me some money to buy whatever my heart desired, and I was on a mission for a couple of things: sea prawn dumpling soup ingredients and art supplies. I easily and quickly moved through the stalls and admired some of the unique items the merchant city had to offer.
Although Zuko may not see the joy in the situation, I was thoroughly enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the world I wouldn’t have been able to experience otherwise without the circumstances of Zuko’s banishment. As I browsed the various shops, I noticed a necklace haphazardly tossed to the side of one of the shops. I gingerly picked it up as the blue ribbon told me it belonged to a waterbender.
I thought back to the girl from a Water Tribe that was traveling with the Avatar, and I tucked it into my front pouch to show Zuko when I caught up with him. Five minutes later, I was curiously looking at a new dress when rough hands grabbed me and interrupted my browsing. Something sharp poking into my side stopped any protest I was about to make.
“Thought you could get away with stealing from me?” A rough voice said as the sharp object poked more into my side. “Any word from you and I’ll gut you right here.” The male voice growled in my ear as rough hands grabbed my wrists and began guiding me away from the stall and towards an interesting looking building nearby. I was roughly shoved through the door where the occupants all turned to look at us as I was roughly held by my bicep..
“I caught the thief.” The voice of the man holding me said as he shoved me towards one of the other men in the building. “Came back for her necklace.”  I fell to my knees in front of the man with the brimmed hat. The braid I had worked diligently to put in my hair was roughly gripped by the man in front of me as he used it to slightly lift me up.
“Tell me what you and that bald headed thief did with my scroll.” He growled as he tightened his grip on my braid. I bit back the yelp of pain that threatened to come from my lips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hissed out the honest words, but the grip in my hair tightened to force my head slightly to the right.
“Did the bald kid have arrow tattoos?” I recognized Zuko’s voice as the grip on my hair tightened some more and I couldn’t hide the wince of pain from my face.
“And if he did?” The older man spat as he lifted me higher to get a better look at me. “That kid and those two waterbenders stole my scroll, and I want it back.” He growled as I yelped from the uncomfortable vice the man had on my braid.
“She’s not the Waterbender that was with the kid.” Zuko growled with clenched fists. “We are after the kid with the arrow tattoos. I think we can help each other here.”
“That doesn’t explain why—“ I was brought to look this man in his eyes. “—she’s got the necklace of the Waterbender.”
“I—“ I cleared my voice to try and make the words come out evenly. “I found it. I thought it looked familiar.” The huff the man let out smelt horrible to my nostrils as the man suddenly let my hair got and I fell harshly to the ground at his feet.
“They stole a scroll from us that we want back.” The man turned his attention to the firebender with clenched fists standing nearby. “We get the scroll and you can have the other three.”
“We just want the bald one.” Zuko growled as I stood up and brushed myself off. A rough hand wrapped tightly around my wrist to prevent me from walking away.
“You’re not going anywhere.” The man growled as he pulled me to stand next to him. “Once we have the scroll, you can have her back.” My eyes widened slightly as I looked at Zuko’s steady amber eyes as he coldly stared at the pirate’s hand tightly holding my wrist. 
“I’m going to need the necklace.” Zuko’s tone was even as he flickered his eyes to briefly look at me, but I couldn’t quite read the emotion his golden orbs had as they looked at me. 
“It’s in the front pouch.” I said and the firebender nodded as he approached then opened the pouch and gently grabbed the necklace. I didn’t say anything as he gave me a small nod before he pulled away and turned on his heel. Iroh gave me an apologetic smile as he turned to follow the younger firebender. I swallowed the fear in my throat as I was alone with a group of pirates, and I boldly met anyone who dared to look at me.
Following them to their small sailboat, I was surprised and relieved to find a smaller Fire Nation ship heading towards the ship I was being led to. The captain motioned for me to follow as he climbed onto the Fire Nation ship, where we met Zuko as he stood on the deck. Both of the men stared at each other with a distrustful stare as the ships began to move. I took a seat on the edge of the boat as we started traveling down the river.
Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu  @chi-ara @hagridshaircare @stell404 @kyo-kyo1 @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool @jewelsrules @soggycrout0n @mymomsdisappointment @leeaintthere-blog @sanskritisays  @katie-tibo @stavitcutislamepodkrevet @niktwazny303 @fluffybunnyu
66 notes · View notes
bellysoupset · 2 months
Text
Alright, if you follow the plot of my OCs, this one is not an optional story! 🙈
-----------------
"Yeah?" Leo picked up his phone already frowning, since his screen displayed Wicked Witch of the West as the caller, "Wendy?"
"Hiii..." Wendy's voice was sugary and his frown deepened, causing Leo to stop chopping vegetables, "are you busy...?"
"Is something wrong? With you? Vin?"
"No, no, nothing is wrong! We're all fine!" Wendy was quick to say, her voice going a note up and Leo squinted, annoyed.
"Then I'm busy."
"Ah," she sounded so defeated, "okay..."
He was not going to feel guilty. He was not going to feel guilty. He was not going-
"What do you want, Wendy?"
She let out a little squeal and Leo rolled his eyes so much they nearly got stuck, "soooo, uhm- are you free tomorrow night?"
"Jonah's in Paris, yeah, I'm free," Leo said bitterly. He was being the world's most supportive fiancé to Jonah's face, but to Wendy he could let out his full bitchiness show.
"Great," Wendy was clearly smiling, "I need you to be my partner in something."
"No."
"You don't even know what it is!"
Leo let out a groan, "what is it?"
"Ballroom dancing," she said it quickly and before he could tell her that absolutely not, Wendy continued to speak, "look! It's just one experimental class, I just wanna know if I'll like it! Please! Bella said she won't go and Vin is away."
"Ask Lucas," Leo scoffed, "he'll love it."
"He already knows how to ballroom dance and Bella's super jealous of him, no thanks," Wendy whined, "please? Hell, I'll pay you-"
"I don't want your money," Leo wrinkled his nose, "can't you just wait until Vin is in town? He's coming over Friday night."
"No, the classes are only Tuesday and Thursday nights..." Wendy was doing her best imitation of a kicked puppy, he knew without even looking at her, "please, Leo."
"It'll only be one class?" he asked, cringing as he heard her celebrating.
"Only one class, I promise!"
"Alright," he started to wipe his messy hands to grab his phone and hung up as Wendy continued to speak: wear track pants! And comfy shoes!
--------------
Leo was standing outside of Wendy's building, questioning his life choices, when his frenemy walked out. Unlike him, who had come straight from work and was wearing exactly what she told him to, Wendy was clad in a red flowy dress, with layers and layers, reaching just past her knees.
She lit up as she saw him, "I'm glad you came!"
Leo raised an eyebrow, "am I gonna regret this?"
"Do you know how to dance?" Wendy circled his car to get in the passenger side and Leo scowled.
"No..."
"Then what a better time to learn than now? You know Jonah knows how to waltz, right?" Wendy entered the car and Leo squinted at her, getting in the driver's seat as she typed the address in her phone's GPS.
"So what if Jonah knows? He knows a bunch of shit I don't, it's not a competition," Leo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and Wendy let out a heavy sigh, as if he was stupid.
"So you're marrying the guy. Couples typically have a first waltz when they marry and Jon said you wanna do the whole traditional thing, so I'm guessing that as well?" Wendy smiled at him smugly, "you want to keep up with him, right?"
Leo knew he was being manipulated, that didn't stop it from working. He clenched his jaw and turned up his music, causing Wendy to let out an amused huff and look out of her window.
The dance school was across town, a brown building with a brightly lit sign hanging over the door, of a couple dancing. The metal gates were open, so was the front door and a very old receptionist was sitting in the cramped entry hall.
"You must be the Marshall's?" the woman opened a sweety smile when she saw them, "here for the experimental class?"
"God, no-"
"Yes," Wendy squeezed his arm, glaring at him, "Wendy Marshall and Leo Wagner."
"Oh, forgive me, I just assumed," the woman shook her head in an apologetic manner, "they're already warming up, so you better hurry. Down the hall, up the stairs."
"Thank you", Wendy was all smiles as she dragged Leo forward and he started to feel himself lagging behind. He hated doing new things, meeting new people. How did Wendy convince him to join this public humiliation, he wasn't sure.
The second floor had a huge ball room, with mirrors up against a wall, very similar to a ballet studio, except for the couples scattered around and the lack of the support bars along the walls.
"Wendy!" A woman in her late forties said from across the room. Leo turned to look at her, then froze.
She was a tall, skinny woman, with incredibly light blonde hair and striking blue eyes. A severe face, but the illusion was shattered by the smile stretching her thin lips.
"I'm so glad you came!" The woman, probably the teacher, said, crossing the room to meet up with them. She frowned as she felt Leo's gaze on her, blonde brows meeting, "is this the boyfriend you mentioned?"
"No, that's just my friend, Leo," Wendy cleared up, turning to look at him and shake the woman's hand. Leo gulped down around nothing, feeling the air stop in his lungs.
The United States was huge. It was a twenty seven hour drive from Oklahoma to Maine. And out of every fucking place that Amelia could be in, she was there. Standing in front of him, not recognizing him.
"Leo?" Wendy shook his shoulder and Amelia's frown deepened.
"Is he okay?"
"What- What are you doing here?" Leo glared at the woman in front of him. His voice didn't sound like his own. He didn't feel like himself, it was like he was watching the scene unfold out of his body.
The woman looked at Wendy, then at him, "I'm the owner of the studio... I'm sorry, have we met?"
Leo let out a hysterical chuckle.
There were many times he had wondered how it'd feel to see his mother again. Would he feel anger? Resentment? Sadness? Shock?
It had never crossed his mind that she wouldn't recognize him at all. Sure, he had long shed his baby traits, the man he was at nearly twenty six was a completely different person from the tiny ten year old with nearly white hair and too big ears he had been... But he was still her son, how could she not recognize him in the least, when he could easily pin point her through his blurry and faded memories.
"Leo?" Wendy was up in his face now, on her very tip toes and hands cupping his cheeks, sounding concerned, "sweetheart, what is it?"
The fact Wendy, of all people, was using a pet name caused another blubbering giggle to come up. His eyes stung, his hands were clammy and shaky as they closed around Wendy's wrist-
"You said your name is Leo?" Amelia repeated, moving closer and Leo took an instinctive step back, bringing Wendy with him.
It was a split second, but suddenly Wen's dark brows met and her bright green eyes widened, her heart shaped mouth falling into a comic O. She shook her head, glanced between Amelia, then Leo, then raised an eyebrow, "She's not-"
Leo felt like he couldn't breathe. He nodded and Wendy turned around quick as a wip, shoving him behind her as if she was not half his size, "we're leaving," her voice was a whole note louder, "don't even think of coming after us, you've done enough."
Amelia looked distraught and confused, blinking quickly, "no, I- I- Leo? Leo- Edward's Leo?"
It had been at least seven years since Leo had heard his father's name and the word caused his head to spin. He stumbled back and Wendy's grip on his shirt tightened, as if she could and would hold his whole weight in case he collapsed.
"C'mon, Leo, let's go," she turned around, clutching his bicep and shoving him to start moving. Leo took a couple stumbling steps back and Amelia followed, the rest of the class entirely forgotten, looking a bit drunk herself.
"You can't- What are you doing here? In Maine-"
"Stop," Wendy's tone was sharp as she glared at the woman, "Leo, let's go, we need to go-" with another push, he allowed himself to turn around and be all but dragged down the stairs. Ignoring the shouting of his name in the background, the iron grip Wendy was keeping in his bicep-
They stumbled out of the building and he fell like a drunk to his car, bracing against the metal door and trying to catch his breath. Wendy's hand was in the middle of his back, rubbing, and he could feel the nervous energy emanating from her, like a light bulb on the corner of his eye.
"She- Oh my fucking God-" he hyperventilated, not missing the fact this was a horrible place to stop, right in front of the dance studio.
"I know," Wendy couldn't possibly know anything, but her voice was like a lifeboat in the storm and Leo clung to it, nodding along her rambling, "we're leaving, you can't stay here-" her hand entered his pocket without warning, fishing out the car keys and then Leo was ushered inside the passenger seat, despite the fact Wendy had pulled at it earlier and made the whole place cramped.
She shut the door, then ran around the car and got in the driver's side, not even bothering to fiddle with the seat and sitting at the very edge in order to drive.
Leo leaned back against the leather, tugging on his shirt with such a force he ripped the first button, gasping for air. He looked up, at the car ceiling, mind spiraling.
Amelia was in town. Amelia lived in his town. This whole time- Had she been there before he even arrived? Had part of him, somehow, known she'd be in Weston and that was why he picked that scholarship out of all the others? How-
"I thought-" Leo choked up and he hadn't realized he had started to cry, but now he noticed there were tears running down his cheeks and his throat was so tight it nearly hurt, "I thought- Fuck-"
Wendy let out a little wounded noise, almost a mew, and reached without looking, her small hand finding her way to his knee in order to comfort him. Leo wrapped his hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers and trying to ground himself.
What he could hear? The honks of traffic. Wendy's soft cursing, in full yankee. His own hiccupping sobs. The car humming-
What he could smell? Wendy's sweet perfume. Sea salt, because they were near the port area of the city- Trees.
"Pullover-" Leo slurred, whole body jumping with a heave as his stomach threw the towel, "Wendy, PULL-"
The car came to a screeching halt on the side of the street, in some half empty residential area, and Leo threw the door open hastily, barely managing to hang his head out of it before his dinner made a nasty reappearance over the humid tarmac.
He coughed, the sobs turning into gags once more and spat up another mouthful of acidic sludge, his nose and throat burning, whole body shivering violently.
"Shhh-shhh, I got you," Wendy whispered softly and Leo squeezed the door handle, his other hand in the partition between the front and backseat, white knuckling it. He felt her one of her hands coming to cup his forehead, Wendy squeezing his shoulder in a sweet manner, "get it up, you're okay, sweetheart-"
Leo spat the bitter taste, sniffling grossly. His whole head was pounding, warm... "Fuck," he said eloquently, straightening up and falling back against his seat. Wendy let out a small snort, pushing his hair back and waiting patiently for him to be able to say a whole sentence.
"I didn't- I didn't think I'd ever see her again," he admitted, after a good handful of minutes passed. His head was still spinning and Leo wasn't sure if he felt... Angry or relieved or sad. Right now he just felt nauseous, defeated... Empty.
Wendy didn't say anything, continuing to pet his hair and Leo closed his eyes to avoid her concerned gaze. He pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing down the knot in his throat that he didn't know if it was nausea or more tears, "I hoped I'd never see her again," he whispered, then wiped his mouth and nose with his sleeve, "I can't believe she didn't even-"
"Fuck her," was Wendy's first coherent sentence since they had left the studio and it was startling enough to cause Leo to open his eyes and chuckle, "fuck her so much," Wen repeated, glaring at him to show how serious she was, "she doesn't deserve you, she never did."
His watery laughter very quickly morphed into tears and Leo folded in half, all but falling straight into Wendy's arms, hiding his face against her neck as she hugged him sideways in the side of the road. He could feel his sobs wrecking through her, as Wendy pressed her lips to the top of his head, squeezing him closer.
58 notes · View notes
lonniemachin · 6 months
Text
Omar reached out to me to help spread his fundraiser. He is a Palestinian in Rafah urgently trying to raise money for necessities of survival and to evacuate his 9-person family. He has only raised €4,893 out of his €50,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!
From Omar's GFM:
Hello, I am Mohammed, a Palestinian student in Germany, I am trying to forward the message of a good friend in Gaza, please support him !!!
Hello to everyone with humanity in this world. I'm speaking to you from Gaza, and I don't know if we will survive in the coming days from this death that draws nearer with each passing day. God spared me from the previous four wars on Gaza, but this war is entirely different. Perhaps in the coming days, I won't be among you anymore. Maybe death will take me as it took my friends and relatives from me.
I am Omar Hamad from Gaza Strip, Beit Hanoun city. I graduated from the College of Pharmacy in 2019. I worked hard in pharmacies and pharmaceutical companies to save up enough money to open my own pharmacy. Because I am very interested in the field of cosmetics and skincare, I didn't open a pharmacy. Instead, I opened my own skincare and hair care store, "Cosmatics," and it cost me around $45,000.
In the last few months before the war, I prepared my apartment and, literally, "poured my heart's blood" into furnishing it. It cost me a hefty amount, around $20,000, and I was ready to get married. But the war did not allow that. It did not grant us even a simple life, which is the right of every human in this world. This world has become desolate, where we see death every day and it cannot even save our children.
I belong to a beautiful, loving, and kind family. My father, mother, brothers Ahmed, Abdullah, Sameh, and Mohamed, and my sisters Faten, Ward, and Reem. My elder brother Ahmed is deaf and mute, suffering in the war from the intensity of the bombing and the concussion in his ear, where he never sleeps at night. My sisters Faten and Ward are also deaf and mute, and their suffering is more difficult because they are females and their physical structure is weaker, as those vibrations and concussions in their ears reverberate heavily. Meanwhile, my sister Reem's fiancé was killed in the war. She couldn't look at life with a hopeful gaze. Our sorrows could fill the whole world and overwhelm it. Oh God, why does all of this happen!
My mother also lost her three brothers, her mother, her brother's wife, and her brother's daughter during the war, all brutally killed. Despite all the sorrow that fills our hearts, we still have a positive outlook towards the future.
After being forced to evacuate from the northern Gaza Strip to its south, we went to the Palestinian Red Crescent in Khan Yunis. The bombing and scenes of killing and destruction were numerous. One day, while my friends and I were eating in our tent, the house next to us was bombed, and shrapnel fell into our food, miraculously sparing us. On another day, a group of people in the street next to us was bombed, and I saw before me 17 bodies, all torn apart, scattered flesh. I couldn't stand from the horror of the scene.
Then we moved to Rafah, on a barren sandy land, if found, on an area of 8 square meters. Twenty meters of expensive nylon and some ropes, that's how a scar is made on the ground bearing the name "tent," assigned to shelter an entire family that meets all its needs within its walls. Living inside it without a bathroom, without a kitchen, without flooring, without pillars, without covers, without warmth, without anything except a heavy heart, a wandering mind, an empty stomach, dense fog, and a very long night, accompanied by sadness, loss of loved ones, wind, rain, and bone-chilling cold. And thus, we await death.
We all need at least medical and psychological care to alleviate some of this pain, also due to the prevalence of diseases and the lack of clean drinking water and the scarcity of food.
We deserve a dignified life like any human in this world. We don't want to live just to survive; we don't want to live like animals only thinking about drinking and eating. We want to live with dignity, with freedom. I am full of hope and optimism that you will support us and help us. If you find that we deserve a better life, please help us in this campaign, which is $50,000.
• The permits and fees necessary to leave the Gaza Strip through the Egyptian Rafah are $5,000 per person (9 people, which is $45,000), in addition to $5,000 to secure the lives of 9 people for rent, buying clean clothes, and securing food and drink at least in the first few days.
Thank you very much for being interested in reading and hearing my story. You are not obliged to help, but we all hope that you will help us and that we will live a dignified life free from bombing, death, blood, and destruction, and also free from continuous hunger and thirst, a life full of cleanliness and hope.
Omar.
95 notes · View notes