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the-froschamethyst4 · 1 month

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Mr. Vargas

𖤐Pairing: Professor! Alejandro x College girl! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, age gap (23-40 yr old), blowjob, fingering, P in V, Dom!Alejandro, innocent Y/n, groping, nipple play, eating out, hair pulling, ass slapping, praising and degrading,

𖤐Summary: Professor Alejandro gets his life distracted by one of his students

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3:00PM

Alejandro sat in his office flipping through papers of his students work, but he was looking at one of his students that he has been having a bit of problems with.

“Gah-“

“Hey now…did I say you could stop?” He looks down at this certain student.

“Sorry sir,” Y/n says as her face rested close to his hard dick.

“You scored a 40% on my quiz…have you even been paying attention in my class?”

“I…” she looks down knowing she hasn’t.

“Obviously you haven’t and it shows, you scored the lowest out of everyone,” Alejandro says. He grips her hair tightly behind her head, pulling her and making her make eye contact with him.

“Ah!”

“Hush. We’re going over the ones you miss,” he yanks her up off the floor and bends her over his lap. “If you get it wrong, well, you know what happens,” he says lifting her skirt exposing her ass to him and as a warning he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her.

"A crime with a punishment of 1 year or less in jail is the definition of what word? A. Miranda, B. Arrest, C. Misdemeanor, or D. Felony?" Alejandro asked, gently rubbing her butt getting ready.

"C. M-Misdemeanor."

"Good...but why did you get it wrong if you knew? Did you get it wrong on purpose knowing I might do this to you?" He teased her.

"Next one. When the police trick someone into committing a crime that they would not otherwise commit is the definition of what word? A. Entrapment, B. Curtilage, C. Misdemeanor, or D. Felony?"

"A!" She shouts.

"And yet you got it wrong...you know everything but yet, you purposely got most of them wrong..." He smacks her butt anyways. Earning a loud yelp. "You wanted this...you wanted my attention, you got it, but why lie when you know you could just ask, and I'll give you all the attention you need," his hand went under her chin making her look up at him.

"I want your attention, Mr. Vargas," she moans.

"I know you do," he smacks her ass over and over till seeing red on her ass and a handprint on her right cheek. "And now you get a punishment," he growled.

He pulls her off his lap and stood her up on his desk, he stood between her legs, his hands went to her thighs and he started to kiss her neck, earning a soft moan from her. His hands went under her shirt and pulled it over her head.

"I give you so many opportunities to be a good girl and yet you still disobey me," he smacks her thighs this time earning a whimper.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"No, you're not, if you were you wouldn't have done what you did, you failed just for attention, that's fucking pathetic," he growls at her.

"S-Sir," he smacks her thighs again.

"You don't fucking get to speak," he says.

She bites her bottom lip holding back every word. He smirks and starts going down, he licks his lips and pull her panties down off her lower half and tossing them to the side. His head goes under her skirt licking up her wet slit.

The bottom of her skirt drapes over his head, she collapse on her elbows, her thighs wanted to close around his head but he was holding them open from closing.

She moans as his tongue was licking her up. Y/n then fell on her back, her finger joint her mouth but Alejandro's hand grabbed her wrist pulling her hand away.

"I want to hear your moans," he demands. As he goes back down on her. His hands gripping her thighs pinning them to her chest, he sits up and spits on her clit, he then starts slowly rubbing the spit on her before shoving three fingers inside of her.

Her head goes back hitting against the wood of the desk. She groans from the pain.

He looks at her face seeing her in pleasure, he smirks knowing he could make his girl feel good. Her hand goes to his wrist to keep up his pace as the other fondled with her left tit. She moans then looks at him, she knows he could treat her this good.

He then leans down and starts to lick her nipple, suck on her, and nip at her bud. She moans and holds his other wrist playing with her. She clenches around his three fingers and then he quickly pulls them out.

She whines at him.

"Oh shut up," he says, smacking her thighs. He starts unbuckling his pants and pulled out his hard cock, he rubs his tip against her wet folds teasing her.

He watches her moan and whine. Then he pushes himself inside of her, he thrusts inside of her, immediately rough and hard, she bounces up and down against him moaning and her hands trying to find a place to rest.

Alejandro smirks down at his little play thing, he holds her waist and starts pounding a bit faster and sloppier. Alejandro leans down kissing her neck and then kissing her lips.

His tongue forces its way into her mouth. Her eyes opened slightly, her gaze looked at his eyes that narrowed, they looked dead or bored.

"Flip over, on your stomach," he demands, flipping over and then grabbing her wrist holding her back. Her body off his desk and her feet felt like they were going to slip out from underneath of her.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Mr. Vargas, I'm hear to talk about my grade!" A voice was heard on the other side of his office door.

"Not now, Eliza, I'm still talking with my other student, come back in a few minutes!" Alejandro groans like he was annoyed that he was interrupted.

As he fucked Y/n his hand covered Y/n's mouth muffling her moans, but she couldn't help it. As he moves his hands drool drips from from her mouth and his palm.

"You nasty, slut," he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her.

"Ah! AH! AH!" She moans.

"Shut up," he groans.

"S-Sir, I'm-I'm going to cum," she says softly.

"Do it...but I'm not going to stop," he says, smacking her ass.

She grips the wood but of course no grip anywhere. She squeezes her eyes shut and she felt herself come on his dick, but like he said, he wasn't going to stop, he's not fucking done.

"God, you slut, you made a fucking mess," he smirks, gripping her hair and making her look at him form over her shoulder. His lips kissed hers.

"I-I'm sorry," she says.

His hand held her mouth making her quiet and then he starts picking up the pace a bit, skin slapping against each other in his office. He was rough and then he felt himself twitch inside of her and then cum leaks from his tip, he pulls out and watched cum leak from her.

He then sits in his chair, keeping Y/n against his desk, watching cum slowly leak from her. He smirks grabbing tissue and cleaning her up and then leaning forward to taste her cum.

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7:00PM

"Up...down...up...down, good girl...there you go...keep going," he was gentle, hands on her waist guiding her.

Y/n moans as she starts moving her hips so gently, grinding on him and smiling when Alejandro kisses between her breasts.

He then starts kissing and sucking on the side of her tit, she moans as her hands went to his hair.

"You're so gentle," she says.

"It's my way of apologizing for being so hard on you," and it's true. Alejandro will get all worked up and then take it all out on Y/n, then afterwards he starts being gentle and sweet with her, treating her and what she likes.

Alejandro and Y/n agreed to this type of thing when Y/n was a freshman in his class, and they made a deal that they both could help each other with their sexual needs and wants. Y/n is single and Alejandro was divorce from his ex-wife and no kids.

"Come on, amor...I want you to cum," he says with a smile.

"I'm trying," she says, moving a bit faster but his hands held her waist to keep her slow pace.

"No, no, slow, amor, slow," he says.

She just nods listening to him. She was slow, and gentle, she felt herself close again, she looks at Alejandro and then let's out a soft moan before coming, he smiles and comes as well.

"There we go," he placed his left hand on the back of her head and the other on her lower back. He gently rests her on his desk, he was above her. "We'll go one more time...I know you're tired, mi amor," he coos next to her ear as he moves slowly, her arms wrapped around his neck, her moans echoing in his ears.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #call of duty mw3 #alejandro mw2 #cod mw3 #mw3 #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #alejandro vargas x female reader

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mxtantrights · 21 days

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Bounded by blood and Shadow (22)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

You remember the stories of war that Cyril and your brother told you about. How bloodshed is merciless and the anger can be felt in waves. Blood benders, when they went to war it was horrible. More carnage than necessary, because the more blood spilt the more weapons you have.

But you have no choice now.

A new enemy has made itself known. Koschei. Azriel has given you all the information he can. All that he and Rhysand know about the death god.

It sits on the tip of your neck, an unbearable weight. Like an unsettling familiarness.

Cyril told you the story once when you were young. The story of your great ancestor who dared to go head to head with one of the old gods. She was a drifter, not ready to assume the throne but ready and willing to fight.

Almost a quarter of the population, back then it was eight digits, died because of her miscalculation. It’s part of the reason why the wards were put up and communication with the outside world was rare if it all.

You hope that you’re not following down the same path. You hope that you’re not putting your people in harms way, backing them into a corner.

With a sigh you knock on the door. Which is weird but you have other people living in your home and you don’t want to just assume that you are welcome in every room.

“Just a second!” Azriel’s voice sounds from the other side.

You hear some clattering behind the door. Then footsteps. Without a second to waste after that the door swings open. You take him in now.

His hair is messy, his clothes disheveled. He smiles at you. He spent the night here in the war room. Trying to go over anything and everything that he could.

Unsurprisingly he could read your ancient language, thanks to your blood running through him.

“Are you busy?” You ask him.

He shakes his head, “Not for you. You need me?” “Desperately.” You answer simply.

Then something in you takes over. You never felt it before. Not with Kynas, not with anyone. The insatiable need to be in someone else’s space. To have not an inch between you.

You take one step into the room and close the door behind you. All in a quick motion you coil your arms around his neck and bring him closer. You can see him stutter a bit in his movements. But he’s quick to fix that.

His arms go around your waist and drag you closer to him. Front to front.

“Azriel,” you start.

He leans forward and places his forehead on yours. You look up at him. He has his eyes closed and he can hardly fight the boyish grin on his face. Why would he?

You can feel his breath fanning your face.

“Azriel,” you start again.

“Yes, impossible woman.” He jokes.

You crack a laugh at that. “I confessed my very true and strong feelings for you and didn’t see you again for the rest of the night.” You say.

Azriel peels himself away from you, albeit very slowly, and looks you in the eyes. One of his arms that is around your waist snakes up. Up and up until his hand is cradling the side of your face.

“I was getting a head start on your work. So that we could spend some time alone later today.” He explains. You lull your head to the side, further into his warm hand. He was making time for you? Huh. A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have though it possible. But now, now it’s everything you want.

“I would have much rather enjoyed waking up to the sight of you.” You admit.

You watch in real time as a very rainy red tint coats his cheeks. It makes you smile even harder, but you try to hide it. You try bitting your lip. But Azriel has other plans. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Ever so gently.

“We can fix that right now.” He says.

You could. You undeniably could. But you are empress. And you have a job to do. And a sworn duty to your people. You’ll be busy for at least half of the day today.

“I have my duties.” You say.

But it’s not really like you want to leave him. Not when your body curls toward him more and more. Or when one of his shadows wisps at your leg from underneath your dress.

“Will you be free later today?” He asks.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You watch the last carriage leave for the Day court. It put a heavy weight on your heart to do so. But it’s for the best. Those who have lived here with no prospect of leaving deserve to know what the world has to offer. If they choose to stay in the Day court or travel beyond that is up to them.

One of the children in the carriage waves at you. You wave back at them.

You think of what could have been if your people were meant to live among the fae instead of away from them. If things would have bene better or worse. If you would still have a family or not.

“Can you ask Azriel to fly me around?” Semaj asks.

You whirl around and find him standing directly behind you. He’s looking at you with a wild grin. It’s not like he doesn’t get Azriel to fly him around on a regular basis now.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” You question him.

Semaj scratches the back of his neck.

“My parents said it might be disrespectful.” He answers.

“I think Illyrians fly with people all the time.” You counter.

“He’s not just an Illyrian, you’re married!” He explains.

You chuckle at his forwardness.

“About that,” you start and kneel down to be on his level, “he only has my blood because he needed to pass through the wards.”

Semaj looks at you then. Sad and down trodden. You swear swimming through molasses would be easier.

“But I thought you two loved each other. Madrugada” He pouts.

“I—well, we just started. I mean we have only known each other for a few months now.” You try explaining to him.

But deep down you know that’s not true. You’re trying to explain that it’s too early for feelings like love to be in the mix. But really, they already are. They probably have been for a while and you’ve been to stubborn to notice and admit it.

“But he came by and said you were his mate.” Semaj says.

It strikes you right then and there. Mate. He called you his mate. Well he didn’t call you his mate to your face, but it explains a lot. It explains why he wanted to get to know you. Why against all reason and judgment he stayed here with you. And why when you expressed your feelings for him, he seemed to understand it completely.

Thesan told you about mates. How fate had a way of bringing fae together. It’s rare, and you can’t force it to happen. But for the fae it’s the deepest bond they will have.

“He said that I was his mate? He used that word?” You ask Semaj.

The little one nods his head vigorously.

“And then mama told him about Madrugada.” Semaj continues.

“He knows about that?” You ask.

“Yes. Don’t you love him?” Semaj asks.

When you don’t answer you are met with a hug. Semaj engulfs you in it. And his tiny hands rub your back. Something he picked up from his parents no doubt.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew already. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Semaj says.

You, confused and still in shock, reach up to your face. Sure enough it’s wet. But it’s not red. You hug Semaj back tightly as you begin to laugh at the whole situation.

“Happy tears Semaj.” You tell him.

Amren looks you over like a predator is eyeing its prey. You don’t twist under her stare, and neither do you back down. Of course you should have told her what was going on, she hates being left out of things.

Amren picks up one of the meat skewers and places it in her mouth. You wouldn’t be touching those, they were raw. Made for her. Or caught and prepared for her, they were not made seeing as they didn’t see the inside of an oven or the top of a skillet.

“I knew you were his mate the moment it happened. The whole inner circle did, except for one. I was the one that told him to tell you the truth.” She says.

Your eyebrows meet in the middle, “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the blood bender that she is bound to the shadow singer.” She says sarcastically.

You snicker, “Well okay, I get that part. But still.” “if he would have told you then, what would have been your reaction?” She asks.

Which unsettles you, because usually she doesn’t have to ask you what you would do. She would know, because the two of you are a lot alike. If she didn’t know how you would have reacted, then neither do you.

You sink further into the couch.

You’re waiting for Azriel to get back from the village. He was helping out some of the people still here that wished to stay. Helping them gather food and supplies now that they were in surplus.

The sun is about to set. You’ve been nervous to see him all day. Not a bad nervous. Just the kind when you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Amren snaps her fingers at you.

“I can practically smell it on you.” She says.

Your eyes widen at that, “Smell what?”

“Well I figure since you’re not fae, you can’t really accept the bond. And since he’s not a blood bender he can’t accept your version of it. But tonight is the night isn’t it?”

You gawk, “Amren, we only just talked about it.”

“You two sparred more than once for no real reason at all. The sexual tension is there already.”

“Amren!”

“Oh you’ll be shouting tonight alright, just not my name.” She jokes.

You gasp and fling a piece of left over crust at her. She ducks it, obviously, and gets up from her seat. You watch as she throws on a cloak over her shoulders.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“I’m giving you space. To do what lovers do.” She puts simply. You groan as she leaves with a laugh. You pick your feet up and sit with your knees tucked to your chest. Waiting will be half the battle you think. You keep thinking it over.

How he knew this whole time and was probably fighting against it. Until he couldn’t anymore. He stayed.

You start to wonder to yourself. If this were any other universe, maybe he’d be a blood bender. Or you’d be his kind, a fae. And you would have started off on the right foot. A proper love story.

In thinking of how your story could have went your eyes start to flutter shut. Within a few moments, your sprawled out on the couch with a plate tucked to your side with uneaten crust.

Azriel walks by the lounge room and finds you there. Sleeping in an awkward position. Your head leaning against the back of the couch, legs tucked to one side while your upper body is upper right. He think you’ll be sore come tomorrow.

He walks into the room as silently as possible. He keeps his wings tucked to be sure not to knock anything over and wake you. He comes over to the couch and slowly wrangles you into his arms.

Then he winnows into your room. He takes slow steps, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. But that comes to an end when he places you in the bed. Just as he pulls away from you, your hand, soft and warm, lurches out and grabs onto his forearm.

He just looks at where you’re holding at him for a moment. He can’t really believe it. Or, he can’t actually think it possible that this is real. That you are real, and you are his mate, and he’s your Madrugada. There are a few things this world gets right, and he is looking at the most perfect one.

“Stay.” You say under your breath.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel fic #blood and shadow

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footprintsinthesxnd · 6 months

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All Too Well

Pairings: Chuck Grant x reader Summary: So this a little fic inspired by a moodboard that the very lovely @sweetxvanixlla requested and is also inspired by my recent trip to Henri Chapelle American Cemetery in Belguim. I highly recommend if anyone gets the chance to visit an American Cemetery then to do so. It’s a very emotional and moving place to visit. Warnings: death, mentions of war, PTSD, grief, post war reunion.

“Come on, Y/n. You’ve got to get up,” Chuck called, sticking his head around the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging from his lips as he looked upon the form of his sleeping girlfriend. “Y/n, come on. We’re going to be late otherwise.”

Y/n groaned and reluctantly crawled from beneath the covers, moaning incoherently at Chuck as she wandered into the bathroom, dragging the covers behind her like a child. Chuck just grinned, smacking her backside as she walked past. She shrieked and turned round to face him, scrunching her face up in annoyance. Chuck just grinned back at her, rinsing his mouth from the fluoride taste and placing his toothbrush back in the bathroom cabinet in its pot.

Chuck Grant didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky with Y/n, she was funny, smart, beautiful and she’d put up with his teasing ever since Toccoa. She followed him out of the C47 on D-Day, fought beside him in Carentan and shared his foxhole in the Bois Jacques. Even when he was injured she stayed by his side, holding his hand as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

Half an hour later, the car horn outside drew Chuck from his thoughts. It was Floyd Talbert, his battered green Chevrolet pulled up onto the pavement outside. He was giving them a lift to Easy Company’s first yearly reunion. The men had all kept in contact after going their separate ways back in the States and between them, George and Bill had organised for them to all get together. Most of them were bringing their wives and girlfriends along and Chuck was pleased to have Y/n by his side.

“Y/n, come on, Tab’s here,” Chuck called, starting in amazement as his girlfriend appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a baby blue dress flowing around her frame and her hair was curled and pinned neatly to the back of her head. She looked as beautiful in that dress as the day she had in Aldbourne. Chuck kept the picture of her from their first date in his jacket pocket and it went everywhere he did. “I’m coming.”

They hurried down the path, Chuck shutting the white gate at the end of the pathway. “Hey Chuck,” Tab greeted him as he hopped into the front seat beside his friend.

“How have you been?”

“We’ve been good. Can’t complain. How about you?”

Floyd looked at him confused but did ask any more questions. “Yeah, I’m okay. Doing the best I can but I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

They mainly travelled in silence after that, with the occasional conversation and Chuck reached across to hold Y/n hand, squeezing it gently.

Floyd pulled into a parking space and watched in amusement as George Luz came barrelling across the car park towards them. “TAB! CHUCK! YOU MADE IT!” He shouted, throwing himself into both the men’s arms. Floyd and George were laughing and chatting as Chuck helped Y/n down from the truck, taking her hand with a smile. “Well let’s face the music. George is as wild as ever.”

Y/n sniggered, “did you honestly expect him to change.”

“No, not really.”

“Hey Chuck, come see the others,” George grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the building where the other members of Easy Company were already waiting.

The reunion was going well, Chuck was so glad Y/n had talked him into going. He’d been reluctant at first, still haunted by the nightmares of the friends he had lost, he didn’t know if he could face seeing the men he went through hell and back with.

“So how’s things going with Vera?” Chuck asked, leaning against the bar beside Eugene Roe, nursing his beer that he came accustomed to enjoying while staying in Aldbourne.

“Real good, there ain’t a day goes by where I’m not smiling anymore. It helps to have someone to get you through each day,” Eugene suddenly looked up a little shocked. “Oh Grant, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to… well you know… I just… I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for Gene? Y/n and I are very happy. We moved into our new house a few months ago, and it's all going well.”

Eugene rested his hand on Chuck’s arm, “Grant, it’s okay to not be alright. None of us are ever going to be alright again, it haunts us all but I know things will get better. I have to believe that.”

“Gene, I’m fine. I couldn’t be better. Y/n and I are very happy.”

Eugene bit his lip as if trying to find the right words to say. He looked over Chuck’s shoulder where George and Floyd had both appeared and had heard the conversation.

“Chuck, I know you miss Y/n…” Floyd began and Chuck turned around to face him.

“What do you mean? Y/n is right there,” he pointed through the crowd to an empty corner of the room and waved. “See she’s waving at us.”

“Chuck…” Floyd approached carefully, resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Y/n isn’t there Buddy. Y/n isn’t here. She died, Chuck.”

Chuck snorted, “No she didn’t. If she’d died, who have I been living with?”

Chuck had to admit that the house was often quiet but Y/n had never been very loud spoken, and only one side of the bed had ever looked as if it was slept in, and there was only one toothbrush in the cabinet…

“No, but she’s right there…” Chuck trailed off as he pointed to the empty corner, Y/n was no longer there waving back at him.

“But… but where is she?” He cried, feeling hot tears fall down his red cheeks as the realisation hit, turning to his friends and demanding answers. Where was his girl? What happened?

“She got hit, Chuck. The same night Bill and Joe got hit. She was trying to help them, remember?”

Chuck couldn’t remember. No, he couldn’t remember any of it. Y/n had been with him though. When they left Foy and moved on to Noville she had been there. When they found the concentration camp she was the first one to help them. When they were in Austria she had been there watching the baseball game.

“But where is she, Tab? Where is she?” Chuck slid to the floor, sobbing and clutching hold of Floyd who sat beside him, hugging his friend firmly. He knew none of the men there would judge him, they only watched in sympathy as Chuck fell apart. They had all been in his position at least once since the war ended a little over a year ago. “She’s in Belgium, Chuck. She is a cemetery in Belgium.”

“I need to see her. Please can we find her?” Chuck buried his head into Floyd’s neck.

“Sure thing, Buddy. We’ll find her.”

3 months later

Chuck didn’t quite know what he expected when Floyd first told him that Y/n was buried in Henri Chapelle American Cemetery in Belgium. For some reason that seemed to make it real. George, Eugene and Floyd had gone with him, feeling as though he’d need some kind of support when it all fell down.

The car park was empty but they could already see a few rows of neatly placed white crosses beginning to appear. Chuck was reluctant to get out of the car at first, he wondered that maybe this was all a bad dream and that soon Y/n would be kissing him and telling him it was time to get up.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Floyd asks when Chuck finally found the courage to get out of the car.

“Maybe if you could come part of the way with me?”

The three men nodded, following Chuck up the long, concrete paved pathway and up the steps, following the steps down the other side. All four of them gulped as they looked upon the rows of parallel, ivory crosses, each row was diagonally and vertically lined up to perfection. Some of the crosses had flowers placed at the base and some weren’t crosses at all but the Star of David instead stood proudly above its soldiers.

“Didn’t realise how many there were going to be,” George choked, trying to hold back the tears for Chuck. Eugene squeezed his hand gently and nodded, tears trickling down his own cheeks. Many of the US soldiers had been repatriated back to the States after their deaths so they could be returned home but many remained in the fields of the country they died. Y/n didn’t have a family to repatriate her and so she lay beside her other fallen comrades.

The men followed the path down the steps, looking upon each row. The names of men they had never had the privilege to meet were etched into their minds, each life that was taken far too soon. When they reached the right section for Y/n's surname they all considered turning back, avoiding it would be far easier than facing the truth. They had all seen her die, had all seen her lifeless frame fall but none of them had ever wanted to relive that experience again.

Floyd watched as Chuck walked down the rows, wondering if he should follow his friend but accepting that this was something Chuck needed to do alone.

Chuck felt great relief with each name he read not finding Y/n amongst them, but his relief was short-lived and sure enough halfway along the second row her name appeared - Y/n Y/l/n, SGT 506 PRCHT INF 101 ABN DIV, OREGON Jan 9 1945. As each letter sank in Chuck felt his throat tighten and his heart still in his chest. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe, a sob wracking his frame as he fell before the cross, gripping hold of the white stone as if he could pull her back into his world.

“Please, Y/n. Please,” Chuck wailed, his short fingernails digging into the grass at the base of the cross, grounding himself as though his grief may pull him from Earth. Chuck had been told that sadness comes with anger but he felt no anger now, only unimaginable pain.

Ever since the reunion his grief had come in waves, small waves at first, sometimes without warning like when he’d open the bathroom cabinet and there was only one toothbrush when there should have been two. This wave of grief was different, it was violent and Chuck felt as though he’d never be whole again. Y/n had always told him that only brave people cry because they are brave enough to show they are vulnerable but Chuck didn’t feel brave, he felt broken, more broken than he had ever felt throughout the whole war.

“Why did you do this, Y/n? Why did you leave me?”

“I never left you, Chuck, I’ll always be here just waiting for you. What we had was a masterpiece but this war tore it all up.” Y/n placed her arms around Chuck, holding him close to her.

“I’d like to be my old self again but I can’t find him, Y/n.” Chuck sobbed, grabbing hold of her arms and pulling her even closer.

“I’ll wait for you Chuck, I promise.”

Chuck closed his eyes, savouring their last embrace. “I loved you so.”

“Back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known.”

“It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well,” Chuck whispered as Y/n faded from his embrace and he was left once again floating alone in his ocean of grief.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @sweetxvanixlla @noneedtoamputate

#chuck grant #charles grant #Charles grant x reader #band of brothers #easy company #101stairbornedivision

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smolkiwi98 · 2 years

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Hii!

Can I pls get a period comfort fic with Eddie? Like reader is staying the night at eddies trailer and then they go to sleep and it’s all cuddly. But later in the night Eddie feels something warm and wet in the bed, so he lifts the comforter and sees blood. He feels bad for reader and stuff and takes care of her?

You really don’t have to, but I just need this rn❤️

Of course!! I haven't take request in a while, so I'm sorry if it's a bit bad. I hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Reader

WARNING! Mentions of period and blood.

If you want to make a request go head and click here

Comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight you were going over to your boyfriend's house which isn’t new, but the only problem there is…you woke up with cramps this morning. You’ve been around Eddie while on your period before, but you always got a little nervous when spending the night while on it. Luckily for you there was no blood, so hopefully it was a little stomach ache and nothing else.

Eddie sat on your bed watching you walk back forth from your overnight bag to your closet to your dresser back to your bag. You didn’t know he was coming over early to pick you up, so you didn’t bother packing right away. As you were grabbing things from your dresser Eddie was going on about some D&D campaign he had planned “After this campaign is over I think the boys….and Lady Applejack wouldn’t mind if I were the Dungeon Master again. I mean I’m a great one! They would have to let me do it again.” You chuckle softly and stuff your things in your bag “I’m sure they’d love that, but your campaigns are always…brutal.” Eddie tilts his head a little and squints his eyes at you “What do you mean?” Is he really that confused? You were going to answer, but a sharp pain shot across your abdomen making you pause for a second “Are you okay?” you heard Eddie ask. You cleared your throat and nodded “Yeah!” You said with a small smile “Um…I gotta grab my toothbrush and I’ll be ready to go.” You grabbed your bag and walked to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush and to be on the safe side some pads.

After everything was packed you two were on the way to Eddie's place. You spend a lot of time over at his place, so it feels like you should just move in already. Of course Eddie has already proposed that to you. When you two finally made it to his trailer you raced inside. Nights at Eddie’s meant snacks, movies, and cuddles. You walked into his room while he went into the living room to set up a movie. You put on a pair of night shorts and Eddie’s Dio shirt that you found laying on his bed. You let out a sigh and walked out to the living room and sat on the couch “What are we gonna watch tonight?” You asked while hugging one of the couch pillows. Eddie inserted a VHS and turned to look at you “I rented the Poltergeist.” He said with a smile “I know you like some scary movies, so I got this one.” You smiled up at him and stretched your arms out signaling him to come and hold you while you watched the movie.

20 minutes into the movie and you passed out. Eddie was laying on his back and had you laying on top of him. His hand was in your hair and the other resting on your lower back rubbing it. Your body was so tense and you kept getting cramps every 10 minutes. Eddie knew something was up, but didn’t want to mention anything and possibly upset you. He glanced down at you and saw that you were passed out, so he thought it would be a good idea to just go ahead and take you to bed.

~ 1 hour later ~

It was in the middle of the night when you felt someone softly pushing on you “Sweetheart~” Eddie whispered “Come on, love you gotta wake up.” You were half awake and you could hear a bit of worry in his voice. You slowly opened your eyes and blinked a few times “What’s wrong?” you asked sleep still in your voice. Eddie had his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. You sat up a little still looking at him until you felt a wet spot in your shorts. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked down at yourself. The sight made you blush with embarrassment, you could feel tears start to build up. You had started your period in your sleep and not only did you ruin your panties and shorts, you ruined your boyfriend's bed. You looked back up at him and then you quickly looked away again “I-I’m sorry…I-I didn’t know I was going to start…” You started to ramble on not looking at him once. In the middle of your rambling Eddie gently grabbed your face with both of his hands “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He said in a calm voice. His thumbs ran across your cheeks and under your eyes wiping away your tears “You’re not mad? O-Or disgusted?” You asked in a whisper. Eddie looked at you confused and let out a small chuckle “Why would I? This is a normal thing that happens, it’s okay.” He leans in and kisses your forehead “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll change the sheets. We can cuddle and if you want, talk afterwards.” He suggested. You didn’t really want to speak, but nodded your head at his proposal.

After you showered and Eddie changed the sheets the two of you were back in bed. He held you close, resting his hand on your stomach rubbing it in hopes to help your cramps. Eddie had asked you a few times if you wanted to talk, but you just wanted to lay there. Eddie not wanting you to sit in your head and over think the small situation started to talk about a bunch of different things! His band, D&D, some comic book he found, what he found in his van, just different things to make you smile and forget about what happened. When he saw that your eyes were closed again and smiled to himself “I love you, Y/N. Very much.” He whispered in your ear before drifting off into sleep himself.

______________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed this little imagine! If you would like to tip me you can do so by clicking here! ❣️

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not-close-to-straight · 1 year

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“Tactile” Sneak Peek (Steddie Omegaverse D/s)

Y’all voted, here’s the result: A sneak peek scene of my upcoming Steddie fic!

*****

“Steve! Come and sit down! Everyone has food!” Robin gestured impatiently for Steve to join her and the kids at the breakfast table, but the Omega waved her off, hands on his hips turning in frustrated circles in the kitchen trying to find whatever it was he’d deemed more important than eating.

“Steve, seriously.” The Beta smacked Dustin’s hand away as he reached for the tray of pancakes. “Seriously, table rules are no seconds until everyone’s eaten and you refusing to just come sit down means I’m actually in danger of being bitten if I have to fend off another one of your gremlins from the pancake plate. Please? Come eat?”

“I just--” Steve turned in another circle, apron a mess and hair a mess and the entire kitchen a warzone of a mess cos cooking for six teenagers and Robin and Eddie required enough food to feed an army. “I know I bought blueberry syrup. Will likes blueberry syrup, I bought blueberry syrup and now I just can’t find it--”

“Will’s eaten four pancakes and three eggs without needing blueberry syrup so stop stressing about it and come eat!” Robin patted at the chair drawn up close next to her, but when Steve ignored her again, she sighed and turned to Eddie, “Hey. Do something about this. Steve forgets to eat and then gets all sad and cranky and nobody wants to deal with a sad and cranky Omega today. Hop to it.”

“On it.” Eddie crammed a whole piece of bacon in his mouth and swallowed it down quick as he scrambled out of his chair, away from the table and into the kitchen to confront his favorite fussy Omega.

“Steve.” The Alpha snagged at Steve’s apron and tugged him in. “Hey. Time to eat.”

“I know, I’m just trying to find--”

“Steve.” Eddie let go of the apron and gripped at Steve’s waist instead, spread his fingers wide at the Omega’s side and cupped at Steve’s jaw with his other hand. Steve’s eyes went abruptly wide when Eddie angled in invading his space, but in the next second Steve’s lids fell half heavy, lips parting unconscious and breath automatically slowing once as Eddie’s fingers were digging into his jaw holding him, once the Alpha’s palm was pressed to his waist steadying him and Eddie stood in near enough for Steve to inhale his heady scent.

“Steve.” Eddie repeated, low and commanding and the Omega’s shoulders dropped, head tilted instinctively baring his neck very nearly submitting.

“Sweetheart.” Softer now, only for Steve’s ears. Eddie brushed his nose at Steve’s temple, through the ruffled hair, set his lips just barely at the Omega’s cheek. “Time to eat. Leave the kitchen. Come sit with me. Eat. Now.”

“Can I--” Steve’s voice was thready, a tremor running through his entire body when he turned into another barely there touch of lips. “Can I sit on your lap?”

“Yeah.” The word came rumbled from deep in the Alpha’s chest, pleasure and approval at the Omega’s obedience, anticipation and a little bit of awe cos Steve was independent and bratty and stubborn but he melted so very sweet for Eddie it was damn near breathtaking. “Yes. If you’re very good and eat very well, you can sit on my lap.”

“Will you help me eat? Hold the fork and feed me?”

Fuck. Eddie screwed his eyes shut before they flared dark wanting red at the request. Sometimes sometimes Steve asked for more like he really wanted to commit to this whole thing, this whole tentative fragile thing where the Omega played submissive and Eddie got the chance to take care of him-- sometimes sometimes Steve asked and hinted and pouted his pretty lips and wished for more but-- but-- Eddie just wasn’t sure and he wasn’t willing to misread it so...

“Not today.” It took every bit of the Alpha’s self control not to growl. “Not with everyone here.”

“Oh.” Disappointed. “But I can sit on your lap?”

“If you’re very good.”

“I’ll be very good.” Steve sighed whisper soft at the pass of a calloused thumb over his bottom lip. Alpha. “I’ll be very good for you.”

“Come on then, sweetheart.” Eddie took a step back, twined their fingers together and led Steve back to the table. “Come be good for me.”

#steddie #omegaverse #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington

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all-the-things-2020 · 5 months

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No Better Place - Chapter 22

Summary: Javi gets a sweet surprise.

Word count: 1100

Javi tossed his briefcase into the backseat and loosened his tie. He waved goodbye to one of the receptionists who was also getting in her car, and slid behind the wheel. He was getting used to the forty-five minute commute to and from work, but some days were better than others. The traffic had been a mess that morning due to some road construction on several streets downtown, and he hoped the workers had already knocked off for the day.

As he drove, he switched idly between radio stations. On the way to work, he often listened to NPR to catch up on the news, but going home he preferred music. He’d found three stations that played stuff he liked, which was way better than his choices in Laredo.

When he saw the sign for Blue Ridge Ranch, he clicked off the radio and slowed the car. The transition from the road to the drive needed some work and if he wasn’t careful, the car would bottom out in the big pothole that had started to form. He made a mental note to ask the landlord to have it repaired. He also had to slow down because there had been several times one of the kids or Coco (who Chucho had claimed was “sad” that Javi had moved away, even though apparently she hadn’t cared when he lived in the apartment) had darted across in front of him; once he’d even come bumper to nose with a loose horse, a huge part draft named Emerson with a penchant for unlocking stalls and gates.

He parked under the carport and took his briefcase inside. Linus stretched and meowed once, then plopped back down on the back of the couch. Javi gave the cat a quick scratch on the head on his way to the bathroom. As he stepped out the back door, Coco flew across the side yard and slobbered all over him.

“Where’s Cassidy?,” he asked her as he bent down to ruffle her fur and rub her ears. It was a rhetorical question, not just because the dog couldn’t talk, but because there was only one place Cassidy would be at this time of the day: the barn.

He found her leaning against the fence that stretched across the back of the turnouts, watching Cricket roll in the dirt. He stood next to her and rested his arms on the top rail. “She does like to roll, doesn’t she?”

Cassidy laughed. “There’s an old saying, a horse is worth a hundred dollars for every time it can roll completely over. She did it five times one day, and accounting for inflation, that means she’s worth at least five grand.”

“Not bad,” Javi said. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She always put it into a neat ponytail or braid in the morning, but by the end of the day, it was starting to fall out.

“How was your day?,” she asked.

He sighed. “Same old, same old,” he said. “Two meetings that should have been memos, and a stack of paperwork an inch thick. How about you?”

She turned around so her back was to the fence. “Pretty good, actually,” she said. “The vet came out. You’ll be happy to know that the mare we picked up at the auction last week isn’t pregnant.” She paused and looked shyly at him. “But I am.”

Javi just stared at her for a moment, wondering if he’d actually heard what he thought he’d heard. As a huge, goofy grin spread across Cassidy’s face, he realized that he had. “Are you serious?,” he said.

She nodded. “Yeah, I kind of suspected it but I went to the drugstore today and picked up a test.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a test stick with a bright pink + mark on it. “I have an appointment with the doctor on Friday to confirm and find out how far along I am, but yeah, we’re having a baby.”

Javi wrapped his arms around her, speechless.

“Hey, Mr. P,” called a voice. He looked over Cassidy’s shoulder to see Alex, a fifteen year old who’d gone from missing school half the time and getting D’s and F’s to a solid B average and almost perfect attendance. He was thriving in the new program and Javi couldn’t have been prouder. Alex came out to the ranch two days a week after school and almost every Saturday.

“Hey, Alex, what’s up?” Javi called back.

“Not much,” Alex said. “I finished doing up the stalls, Miss Yates. Anything else you need?”

“No, you can just hang out till your ride comes,” Cassidy said. “There’s carrots in the feed room if you want to hand out treats.”

“Cool,” he said. He stole a glance at Javi’s hands around Cassidy’s waist and smirked. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” Javi said. When Alex had disappeared around the corner, he leaned down and kissed Cassidy’s forehead. “So, should we move the wedding up?”

Cassidy made a face. “And deprive my momma of the indignity of watching her daughter walk down the aisle in a maternity wedding dress?” she laughed. “Oh, no, baby, I am going to waddle up to the altar even if I need a wheelbarrow to carry my big old belly.”

Javi chuckled. “Well, you can do a combination wedding/baby shower, I guess,” he said. “Make things easier on everyone.”

“No way,” Cassidy retorted. “I’m getting two gifts out of everyone. Mom can host the baby shower, and Monica can host the bridal shower. I’m milking this for all it’s worth.”

Cricket ambled over to them and shoved her head in between them, her warm, sweet breath washing over them. “Are you jealous?” Javi asked. “You’re going to be a big sister, what do you think of that?” The mare snorted, blowing bits of half-chewed hay all over them.

“You had to ask,” Cassidy said, laughing as Javi wiped at the blobs of green that covered his nice white dress shirt.

He didn’t care, though. No shirt was worth more than the feeling he got, standing here with the woman he loved, the woman who’d just told him he was going to be a father. The sun was shining and they were surrounded by happy horses and happy kids. It was a long way from the streets of Colombia, but there was nowhere he’d rather be than right here. It had taken him a while, but Javier Pena finally felt like he was making a difference in the world.

#javier peña x ofc #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #horses #pedro pascal character fanfiction #happy ending

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pbandjesse · 2 months

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My allergies are kicking off and I am exhausted. I had wanted to participate in house projects with James this evening but instead I have just been. Stuck here on the couch. Firstly I was freezing. Then I was just. So tired. Ugh. I will try to go to bed earlier tonight.

I didn't even sleep poorly. I would get woken up a few times. James pulled a lot of our blankets over themselves away from me. And I was cold. But it was fine. I was not thrilled about waking up but I was fine. I laid with James for a few extra minutes. But I would get up and things would be okay.

I asked James to make the bed with the. Blanket turned side ways so that we would have more length across both of us. And I hope that that works.

I would get dressed and felt okay. I really loved how my hair looked last night but of course it wasnt the same when I woke up. I sort of got it to a place I liked but I was still struggling today. I don't know what's up with me but I'm trying to be kinder to myself.

I left here earlier then I thought I would. I got a good hug from James before I left. And I got to see the pretty pink trees outside our house. Our tree hasn't bloomed yet and I'm curious what kind of tree it is. There seems to be a few of the pinks and them the rest may be the same kind but I do not know what kind they are. It will be fun to see how the neighborhood looks in different seasons.

I had a really nice drive to camp. No traffic at all. I listened to an album I loved when I was 12. And was just in a good mood.

I stuck to my morning plan and went to sweep top bar. Which took about a half hour. I flipped some mattresses and tried to make it look nice. And then I went to the office to go have my breakfast.

I would watch a TikTok that made me cry. About a girl and her dad having a really powerful connection over one specific song and he just passed away and it was just. A lot. I did not want to be teary when other people came in so I had to pull myself together.

Sarah would come in a little after 9. She had her own breakfast and we would start attacking our list of chores for the open house.

While Sarah would go work on cleaning the fort, I would design some table signs and then laminate then. The laminator did not work amazing but I ran all my signs through it twice. And headed out into the world.

I went over to the pioneers first and cleaned up the fire pit area. Moved the grill back in place. Fold red d the blue tarp. Picked up trash. It looks better. I also fixed a part of the fence and I think it looks good.

I would go and set up tables in the lodge. And clean the bathrooms. I was getting a lot done.

I started cleaning the signs outside. But I am short and could only reach half way. Which looked very funny. I got a lot of the green stuff off of the bottom halves though. And we would go with the gator later and I would stand on the back and we were able to reach two of the 4 signs.

I would go find Sarah in the fort. She was finishing up sweeping. I would help sweep the bathroom and we would finish up pretty easy.

We drove the gator to the Alaskans. I worked on the bathrooms while she swept. We had an excellent divide and conquer system and we got so much accomplished.

I would go over to tipis and picked up some stuff and tried to make it look nice. And since we were going to have our lunch break next anyway I texted Sarah I would meet her at the office. And I went for a little walk.

I walked down to the Glen to see if any of the frog eggs looked like anything yet. But nope. Still just dots. I'll keep checking. I want to see the tadpoles in there.

I continued the walk and went through and found some mushrooms and things and it was great. Just a really lovely walk.

I would have my lunch and me and Sarah both agreed we were so tired. So we took a long break before we would do anything else.

While I had my little break I would eat and watch videos. I did some research about cabinet colors to match with our pink wall. It was nice.

We would go back out and finished our last tasks. Used the gator as a ladder and cleaned the signs. We finished moving some beds. And I was proud of us for all of the hard work. We had lots of laughs driving around on the gator. It was a beautiful day. And even if I am feeling really self conscious I was still having a lot of fun.

We decided to go visit the horses. I hadn't met the new horse. And he is so sweet. We walked through the very muddy field and said hello to everyone. Have lots of pets and cuddles. And when we got to the bottom of the hill we saw a school bus pull up. And it was Aubrey! And she climbed the fence and starts walking and we're just standing there waving. And she finally noticed us and we were all laughing. We would tease eachother and walked up to her house together. She's a good kid.

We would head back to the office and checked in with Alexi about everything we accomplished. And it was nice that she was really happy with us and that made me feel nice. There was some stuff we couldn't do. Like putting the tent back together at homestead. But we did so much and I'm very proud of us.

Heather would ask me to design a job flyer. We need ropes specialists and apparently we are struggling to find them. I had fun making it and Heather would go in and change some of the copy which was fine with me, mine was mostly a place holder. We did laugh really hard when we realized that I wrote "flaying squirrel" instead of "flying squirrel" oops. Flaying a squirrel would be a good camp skill though probably.

I finished that up and when Heather said she was happy with it I was like. Okay! I'm going home! I will see you all on Sunday!

And I headed right home. It was a pretty good drive back, some traffic. Some people driving stupid. But I got home at 430 and got a pretty good parking spot.

When I got inside James wasn't home yet. I would bring the mail in. I closing s random Amazon package of pens? That neither of us ordered?? Very weird.

I went to put away some stuff. And found a jewelery box on the kitchen island with a necklace from James. That was originally supposed to be a Christmas gift but had gotten lost. But they found it and I was so happy. It's so sparkly.

I would go upstairs to take some photos of my possible outfits for Uganda. Which I'm still pretty unsure about but I'm getting clearer I think. And waited for James to come home.

When they got home they would play one round of their football video game. And then jumped right into tasks. I was kind of falling apart though. I got cuddled up on the couch and told James about the day. And they made me dumplings for dinner.

They would work on hanging the art I laid out some the shelf in the living room. And they got a lot of that done before the drill died and needed to be charged.

They would jump into painting the stairwell. And I would just be a little potato on the couch. But James said it was fine and just asked for my input when they needed it.

Now they are finishing up the hanging of pieces in the living room and it looks great. I'm so excited for how everything is coming together.

Now though I think I want to get a shower and get ready to sleep. Tomorrow I am hoping to go to thrift stores and possibly get the wood to build my skinny bookshelf. But we will see how the day unfolds. I just hope I can feel peaceful.

I have been feeling kind of stressed because I feel pulled in so many directions. Like I'm finally feeling better and so now it feels like everyone wants me to be doing everything and I just cannot. I need to be alone and I don't want to hurt my more extroverted friend's feelings. But man. I am tired inside. Walking around alone at camp today helped a lot. And I hope tomorrow helps too.

Sleep well everyone. I love you all. Goodnight

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leaves-and-inks · 1 year

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🖋Sketch Post✒️

Hey everyone! Sorry it’s been a while; things have been getting a little hectic for me, and I haven’t had as much time to do art as of late. Since I haven’t done a sketch post in a while, Here’s some sketches from the last couple of weeks! I didn’t really have a plan with any of these, instead I just kinda went with the flow. It was nice practicing some wings and a hand or two, even if the latter of those things I re-did like,,,, 10 times. I’ve got a couple new ideas I’m working on art wise, and a new reel basically all filmed, I can’t promise full consistency as of this moment, but I promise to do my best. Hope y’all have a great day/night! :D

[ID: Digital sketch of a dragon bust on an off white background with a green border. Its cut off midway down the neck, and the entire head and neck is angled toward the bottom left corner. The dragon has skin flaps under its head and along the bottom seam of the neck, and has two nose horns, a smaller, more forward head horn, and a longer head horn running partially parallel to the neck. It has spikes going down the top of its neck, and it’s mouth is slightly opened, showing off pointed teeth. The background is off white, imperfect square with yellow clouds that overlap parts of the line work on the dragon. Behind that is a textured green background.

Image 2: Two pencil sketches, one of a small detailed woodland scene, the other of a cat landing on a rippled surface. On the left is the woodland scene; a small deciduous tree with a birdhouse hanging from the leftmost branch, and mushrooms growing on the right and on the tree trunk. It sits on a hill with a small cave under its left side. To the right of the cave are more mushrooms, and moss. The cat is on the right of the page, and is full body sketch in profile view, facing left. The cat has vacant eyes, and is not detailed. Where its right paw touches the ground, it ripples as if on water. Small, four pointed stars surround the cat, and it has a vacant eye.

Image 3: Pencil sketch of a girl with deer ears, antlers, and nose. It’s cropped ass a bust, and she faces three quarters left. She has a somewhat neutral expression, slightly confused and surprised, showing her teeth slightly. She wears a sweater that has moss on the shoulders, and overalls. Her hair is long, and on the left side it lays behind her shoulder. Various other pencil lines are seen around the page.

Image 4: Pencil sketch of a dragon bust, facing right. It’s eyes are opened wide, and it is mostly scaled with a fur, horse-like mane. It has long, pointed ears, a fin both under its jaw at the base of the neck, and at the top of the neck starting at its skull. It also has spiked checks, a hooked nose horn, and two large ibex like horns with an small offshoot pointed up. Lines flare out around the sketch, along with around the shape of the bust.

Image 5: Several pencil sketches showcasing a harpy girl. The first sketch is on the top left of the page, and is a full body sketch in profile view facing left. Her wings are attached to her back, and outstretched behind her. She also has a bird-like tail, feathers covering her ears, bird claws and legs, and feathers sprouting from the lower half of her arms. Her left arm is outstretched slightly behind her, her hand parallel to the unseen ground. Her right arm is clutched close to her chest, a look of surprise on her face. Her left leg is raised, her talons flexed, and her right leg is straight, her claws relaxed. She has long dark hair, and wears ripped jean capris with patches, and a light bomber jacket. Behind the sketch are various lines and parallelograms flowing diagonally left to right, parallel with the sketch. On the bottom right of the page is a cluster of smaller sketches showing the harpy’s and lower arm feathers, her ear, and a small bust of her facing left, looking extremely annoyed. Her wings are folded up behind her, and it becomes apparent that she has a thumb wing claw. Far behind her is a small sketch of another harpy character who appears loud and excited, their wings and arms outstretched./end ID]

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poliwat · 9 months

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Nipomo

Four weeks sharing a room in San Francisco, four weeks since I decided not to go back to England. Michael wasn’t sleeping. A quarter tab of acid for his breakfast. Spliffs throughout the day, booze and blue raspberry C4 preworkout all through the night. He was recording an album, working on his set, making a website, building a 24-7 open-source radio live-stream at a free hackers’ space, and not finishing anything.

I was trying to write but spending a lot of time crying on the hot roof of the apartment building when he wasn’t around. He found me up there one afternoon at the end of one of his twelve-hour stints at the hackers’ space. Two straw hats, a beer, two cups. “I know you like to drink out of little cups!” He smiled and the inside of his mouth was blue from the raspberry preworkout. How do you hate someone as much as you love them? He said he’d been looking for me because he had a great plan. A childhood friend in the city was driving down to their hometown and we could get a ride. I could meet Michael’s parents; go to the beach; see the fields, wildflowers, and back roads. So beautiful this time of year. I wondered if it might save us. “It’s God’s country,” he said.

We arrived at his parents’ the following morning, after a four-hour drive south. A low ranch-style house on a wide road of low ranch-style houses. Michael said it was too nice a day to be stuck inside, so he took me around the side and we climbed straight up onto the roof: “I know you like roofs in California!” I did like roofs in California. The front and back yards of gravel, wood chip, and pebbles, interspersed with the occasional palm tree or redwood. At the end of the road was the main street, a couple of stores, a steak house, and a taqueria. Beyond, fields of lemon trees and mustard grass and farmland that stretched a few miles inland, up to a range of golden hills. Above us, the sun shone like the grill of a new truck.

The house was full of knickknacks and shells and crystals and string lights. A “Be Grateful” sign by the coffee maker. A “Be Grateful” mat by the front door. A canvas in the kitchen printed with a picture of three fluffy ducklings and the words “I have joy down in the bottom of my heart.” It was hard to make out how many cats there were. And then PooPoo, the overweight chihuahua, waddled in from the hallway and charged at Michael, baring his red gums and gnashing tiny, pointed teeth. Michael told me the dog was the spawn of the devil and the root cause of all the issues that existed between him and his parents. I already knew that the issues between Michael and his family had begun when Michael had gone to college in Santa Cruz five years before, found drugs, wouldn’t get a real job, and kept having to move back home when he ran out of money.

His parents were musicians who’d met in Santa Barbara in the seventies. She’d sung in one band and he’d played guitar in another. They’d both worked in the same hippie jewelry store downtown before marrying and moving to a smaller town up the coast. I met them that morning when they followed the pets into the kitchen. Gene was short and round with a kind face, freshly shaved with a peaked cap on his bald head and a smart cowboy shirt tucked into chinos. He gave me a warm hug that smelled of Irish Spring. He picked up PooPoo and fed him some bratwurst from the fridge. Mom went straight to the coffeepot. She wore a blue shirt with cropped leggings and had her blond hair put up neatly in a clip. She had the same unblinking stare as Michael.

Gene left to work his shift at a music shop in the next town over and Mom said she needed more coffee before her pain medication kicked in and she could talk properly. She had arthritis and had pain from a series of botched surgeries. The pain was the worst in the morning, but she was managing it with physical therapy, swimming, and half a pill on the bad days. She spent the next hour pacing around the house, telling me about all the things she needed to do—pay the bills, fill out paperwork, physical therapy, feed the dog, feed the cats—only to be derailed from doing any of it by the pets, or the phone ringing. She kept apologizing for being so busy, but she couldn’t seem to get anything done. The bills stayed untouched in a pile that took up most of the kitchen table, the phone rang and rang. There were Post-its all over the house: “Put coffee out,” “Tell Dad to clean sink,” “Ask Michael where he is living in SF,” “Be Grateful.”

Michael derailed her the most, as he tried to make breakfast and clean up after himself. Mother and son knocked around the place, from the coffeepot to the piano to the back door, to the front door to the coffeepot again. They both had the habit of getting lost midaction and the same strange sweetness. At one point, just after getting at him about putting the dishes away in the wrong place, she went into the living room and sang out with joy. When she came back into the kitchen she was smiling. She put her arms around her son. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and closed his eyes.

Michael and I spent the afternoon walking around town. Not a place built for walking but it had its charm, the slanting golden light making even the Vons supermarket look beautiful. We bought three beers for five dollars at the Stop and Shop and watched the sun go down as we sat against a fence by a dusty abandoned lot. He told me that the most famous thing about this town was a Dorothea Lange photograph of migrants from the thirties.

For dinner Michael made sandwiches and, to his mom’s exasperation, moved the bills off the dinner table and told everyone we were going to sit down. They were very good sandwiches, pastrami and banana peppers and mayo with a steak seasoning, on thick slices of bread. He made a sandwich each for his parents, and two types for me and him to share. “Me and Helen share everything,” he announced. “We’re in love.”

After a few bites, Mom started talking about how hard it was, living with her husband, how she loved him but needed him to leave. “I keep telling him, but he won’t go. He does nothing around the house, just eats and spends and plays his guitars.” She said that when she married him, he was already deep in debt. He’d never told her how bad it was. Then she said to me, “I love my son, but I’d understand if you wanted to leave him. Don’t make the same mistake I made.” Gene didn’t say anything in response, just happily ate his sandwich and seemed to be somewhere else. Michael went to the fridge and popped a Corona.

The next day was a Saturday. We borrowed Gene’s car and spent the day in the ice-plant dunes of Grover Beach. When the sun set, we snuck into a motel jacuzzi. Crouched in the bubbles, Michael said he’d told his dad that he’d marry me if he had a dollar. “I dunno about marriage,” I told him.

Gene was in the kitchen when we got back, enjoying a Corona Familiar in a frosted glass. He was in a good mood from playing a gig at a wedding where he’d devoured a seafood-platter buffet. “I tell you … those crabs. All that fish. Mountains of it.” We sat at the counter with him. Over more Coronas, Mom cackling along to Scrubs on the TV, he told me about his first love. At one point he made the mistake of asking Michael what his plans were. Michael said he was going to start an open-source 24-7 radio station that spread empathy across the world and freed a billion people. He already knew his mission on Earth, God had told him. His parents didn’t need to worry. Gene turned to me with a smirk. “I told Michael to experiment with LSD. I didn’t realize he’d be experimenting every day for five years.”

They drove us to the train station in San Luis Obispo the next afternoon. Another sunny day but things felt different. Now I knew that this impossible person had a mother and father and that he made some kind of sense beside them. When his parents hugged us goodbye his dad whispered something in Michael’s ear. “If I had a dollar,” Michael said.

We found a booth with a table in the train’s observation car, beside a window. Gene and Mom spotted us as they were driving out of the parking lot and circled back through three or four times, waving as the train left the station. Leaving San Luis Obispo, the train wound around and between the Pacific Coast Ranges. The slopes reached up on either side, rolling above the windows. Michael leaned on my shoulder while I read him a story I’d written about my alcoholic dad. It made him cry. I told him not to move yet—a girl in another booth was painting a picture of us. I could see it in the corner of my eye, strokes of yellow and green and gold.

***

Six months later, Gene was diagnosed with stage four cancer. A melanoma that had not been removed properly in the spring had spread to his organs by September. Michael and I were living in Chicago by the time Gene began chemo, sleeping on a futon at an event studio that my sister ran and earning a bit of money setting up and cleaning up after baby showers and photoshoots during the day and after parties and music videos at night.

The family told Michael not to come back yet. So we stayed in Chicago for September and into October. Michael’s desperate restlessness and acid-fueled benders had subsided, and the deranged passion that had brought us together had calmed to a more dependable, if rocky, companionship. We kept our clothes in a cupboard and pretended to the people who rented the space that we didn’t live there. When the studio was in use, we visited my sister and her son, or wandered around Lincoln Park, or walked along Lake Michigan, waiting for the call from his family to say that he needed to come home. Sometimes Michael brought his guitar and I brought my notebook and we’d sit playing and writing, cooling our feet in the lake. Other times we had long, agonizing arguments walking around the humid parks. He said I was unloving and spiritually dead inside. I said he was cruel and overbearing, that we were two very different people from different worlds and it would never work anyway, it was doomed. He said that only proved how godless and unloving I was. What was cruel was how little I believed in us. All that needed to happen was for me to find faith. We were twenty-seven. We could move off the grid, have lots of children, and raise chickens. I wanted to get on a plane and go home. Whenever we had an especially bad argument, he stormed off to the hot-dog place around the corner from the studio, where the staff was famous for insulting its customers. He made friends with the people who worked there. “The only real people in this city,” he said. Baby Jesus Ted Bundy was one of the names they called him. He would come back in the best of moods. He was on one of those hot-dog runs when his sister called and told him the doctor said it was a matter of days. He spent his entire savings, four hundred dollars, on a flight for the next morning. I packed up the futon and moved into my sister’s apartment. He called after two weeks at home. His dad really was dying now and he needed to see me. Please could I come? My sister found me a flight from Chicago to LA for fifty dollars for the following week.

***

The Amtrak train from Los Angeles to San Luis Obispo goes up the Pacific coast, at times along the beach and at others high in the cliffs. Michael was waiting for me on the platform, wearing a black hoodie and a black cap with a small red-and-white mushroom on the front. He called it his mourning costume. In the car he gave me a paper bag. Inside was a bar of chocolate wrapped neatly in tissue paper. As he drove out of the lot a full moon appeared over the trees.

We arrived at the house to find Gene sitting on a red La-Z-Boy, watching Blazing Saddles, PooPoo on his lap. The dog jumped off when he saw us coming and charged at Michael’s ankles. Michael picked him up, thrashing, and plopped him outside, slamming the screen door. Gene had almost halved in size, his face completely sunken, his arms and legs, bluish and pale, poking out of a baggy T-shirt and shorts. I tried to hide my shock but it must have been apparent. People had been coming over all week to say their goodbyes.

When Michael had first told me they’d put Gene on home hospice, I’d assumed it meant he would be home under regular medical care. What it really meant on his low-cost insurance was a hospital bed in their house, medication, and thirty-minute visits from a nurse twice a week. The rest of the time it was up to Michael, his mother, and his sister to look after Gene. By the time I arrived, the home hospice had been going on for two weeks and they’d stumbled into a rhythm. Gene slept in the Blue Room (blue walls and carpet), which had once been Michael’s bedroom, then the bedroom of a series of lodgers, then a room for Mom to stretch in. Now it was the room where Gene was going to die. There was the hospital bed in the center and a folding table against one wall, covered in a red paper tablecloth, pieces of hospital equipment, dozens of pill pots, and Michael’s junk. Michael and his mother took turns administering a regimen of medication every few hours: liquid morphine, vitamins, blood pressure pills, pills to help his organs deal with all the pills. There was a mattress in the corner covered with a Lion King quilt where Michael had been sleeping. Gene had a little bell by his bedside that he rang when he needed something.

I was tired from the travel, so Michael set me up a bed in the Green Room next door. It had a single bed, another folding table, and a few blankets laid out for the cats to sleep on. Michael gave me his pillow and the Lion King duvet and put on another hoodie over the hoodie he was already wearing. We sat down on the bed for a moment and he rested his head on my shoulder. From the next room the little bell rang and he shot up. I curled up and drifted off.

The next morning Michael woke me up at nine o’clock with a mug of creamy coffee. “Get up! We’re going to the store!” His dad wanted egg bagels. They’d already given Gene his medicine, taken him for a shower, and rustled up a small first breakfast of eggnog and toast. It was only a quick drive to Vons but Michael drove very slowly, all the windows open, lighting one cigarette after another.

We returned to the sound of the little bell ringing. Gene wanted to sit out on the lounger. He wanted a coffee. Michael helped his dad outside and made the bagels. I did the dishes and Mom put on another pot of coffee while telling me how much pain she was in, her arthritis, her hip —she was falling apart.

I soon discovered that the most demanding part of the home hospice was Gene’s appetite. Over the next week we went out three or four times a day to find whatever thing he craved. The bell would ring and Michael would go running. “My dad wants a steak dinner!” We’d jump into the car to go pick up a steak, then sushi, then burritos.

Mom was paying for these elaborate requests with envelopes of cash she’d saved over the years, each one labeled with a particular purpose. Every time she pulled out a new one from the back of a drawer, my heart sank: forty dollars for Michael’s birthday, a hundred dollars for a plumbing emergency, a hundred for yard work—all gone.

As the morphine doses got larger and Michael more sleep-deprived, nights and meals and dreams collapsed into hallucinations. Gene would wake up, feel hungry, and ring his bell. Michael would help him into the kitchen and cook whatever Gene instructed. I’d hear all about it in the morning. Clam chowder from a can with packet noodles. Chicken soup with pork gyoza and taquitos. Michael told me that sometimes he’d drift off in the middle of cooking, laying his double-hooded head on the kitchen counter.

I slipped by the Blue Room one morning, sheepishly hoping I could just make a coffee and bring my book out into the backyard. “The English Muffin!” Gene called out. “I want an English pot roast. Can you do that?”

I returned to the doorway. PooPoo, who was more or less living on Gene’s chest by this point, greeted me with a growl.

“Yes!” I said. “I think I can.”

Waiting for the coffee to brew, I googled English pot roast. It seemed to be something to do with potatoes and meat, a stew. I couldn’t find Michael anywhere.

“Gene …” I said, eventually going back into his room. “What do you mean by English pot roast?”

“I mean Henry VIII creamy banquet pot roast. Pig’s blood! Potatoes! Lots of meat. Don’t forget the meat!”

I called for Michael all over the house, in the front yard, the backyard, down by the shed. Finally his voice came down from the sky.

“I’m up here!” he said. I couldn’t see him, but some branches moved at the very top of the thirty-foot redwood.

“He wants me to make a medieval pot roast,” I told Michael when he came down.

“He’ll go back to sleep. I need to give him some more morphine now anyway. He’ll forget all about it.”

Michael was right. While PooPoo barked and tore at his fingers, he fed his father the liquid morphine, and Gene fell back to sleep. Michael took a nap. An hour later the little bell rang again.

“Blueberry pancakes!” I heard. “Can she do blueberry pancakes?”

I found a mix for blueberry muffins in the cupboard. It was the middle of the day by the time they were done. One came out with a funny face. Two freeze-dried blueberries for wonky eyes and a crease below them like a sideways smile. I thought it looked a bit like Michael. I showed his mother and she agreed. Excited, we woke Michael up with the muffin doppelgänger on a plate.

Hold it up to your face, we told him. Do your wonky eyes. Smile sideways a bit. See?

Mom brought a muffin cut up in four with a pile of butter to Gene on a little plate. He put the whole lump of butter on one quarter, had a bite, and put the plate down on his lap, exhausted. “Do you like your muffin, Dad?” Michael said. Gene didn’t respond. I felt that in some great way I had failed.

***

Michael’s sister, Bonnie, lived in the next town over. She had a two-year-old girl, Sofia, and was heavily pregnant with her second. She’d bring a meal or some shopping over every few days and spend a few hours with her dad. When she and the little girl spilled in through the front door, the whole house seemed to calm.

One afternoon, Gene and Bonnie were stretched out on the sofa, the patio doors letting in a warm breeze. Sofia was running around, looking for the cats. Mom was out in the hammock. I was sitting next to Michael on the piano bench. He started playing a peaceful, sweet song. I asked Bonnie what Sofia’s birth had been like. She said it had been an amazing experience. She said she went full wild woman. At the moment of the birth, she’d been on all fours and felt her whole heart open wide to God. There was no pain, no body, no one else, just her baby and God. Gene said that was the way he felt about death. When the moment came, he was going to go into it with arms open to God. He held his arms out wide as he said it.

Later, Bonnie’s husband, Paul, came over. They got out some guitars from the garage, brought them into the Blue Room, and sang songs around Gene’s bed. Nineties folk—The Moldy Peaches, Bright Eyes—and then an amazing rendition of “O Holy Night,” Paul on the harmonica, Michael on the guitar, and Bonnie singing. I sat on the mattress and watched them. I wanted them to keep playing—no more talking, talking, talking. “O night divine, o night …”

At the end of the song, Mom came in. She said it was late, Dad was tired, she was tired, we were all tiring him out. Michael said, “Wow Mom, you even managed to ruin this.” Bonnie snapped at Michael, “Don’t talk to her like that.” Michael said, “Yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault.” Bonnie’s husband asked no one in particular if they’d noticed that the moon’s face had changed. “They’ve done something to the moon’s face,” he said. “I swear …”

“He’s tired,” Mom said, turning to Gene. “Are you tired, sweetie? Tell them you’re tired. No one believes me. Someone’s gotta look after him. He needs his rest. Tell them for once. I know how tired you are. He’ll never say it himself …”

“All right, Mom. I’m tired.”

I followed Michael out to the backyard with a beer and a cigarette and found him up in the redwood again. I coaxed him down with my offerings and convinced him not to climb all the way up the tree in the dark.

***

Gene’s body was shutting down. His legs and arms were swelling and leaking fluid. He had to carry paper towels around with him to mop up the mess, but he never complained. We took turns massaging his legs to ease the pain. When it was my turn, I made a bit of conversation, asked him about his life. He didn’t want to go into any of that. He just smiled and told me to massage with all the strength my skin and bones could muster.

Amid all this, Michael wanted to have sex whenever he had a minute free. When his dad was sleeping he’d usher me into the Green Room or drive us out to the back-road fields and pull over on the side of the road. At night, with the hills behind us, the hum of cars in the distance, a light breeze through the grass, it was kind of spectacular. But I was never in the mood. So often we would go all the way out there for me to freeze over. “You’re removed,” he told me. “Checked out. A sandbag.”

“Well, sorry,” I said. “But I massaged your dying dad’s legs earlier. I’ve come all the way here. I’m doing what I can do. Right now all I can be is a sandbag.”

“I’m exhausted and I need love.”

“We just had sex.”

“Oh yeah. ‘We just did this, we just did that. I gave you a blowjob last week …’ ”

“I know you’re sad but you’re being a dick. How can you not see that?”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You were the one who started the conversation. I was just lying here.”

“Exactly.”

***

The days went on and Gene held on. One evening I noticed a slice of a moon through the kitchen window and realized it had been two weeks since I’d arrived. Despite the pain, Gene still wanted to move around, take a stroll with his walker, barbecue pork, play guitar on the patio with his son. “This is not how normal hospice patients behave,” Mom said. We were standing in the kitchen, looking at family pictures. In many of them the whole family and some friends were sitting around jamming, having a good time. Not that long ago—five years, maybe.

“Most people just lie in bed. But my husband—he’s on his feet demanding fine dining! I don’t want to complain, but it makes me think—miracles can happen. And if he does get better, things would have to change around here. There’s no money. We can’t live like this. Steak-dinner takeout! We’d lose the house.”

I nodded and made to say something, but she carried on.

“Sometimes I think I might be an alien,” she said. “I’m not like other people. Like lying—people lie so easily but I can never lie. Neither can Michael. We’re both like that. I can see how hard it is for him in the world. We just don’t make sense here! He needs to get a job, get a car. Get going with his life. You’re so good for him. He listens to you. I always told him, If you wanna just do what you want, then find a groupie. You’re no groupie. You’re like an angel sent here. I mean it. I prayed to God for you and you came. But you’ve got your life ahead of you.”

Michael must have been listening because he ran out of the Blue Room at that point.

He took my hand and peeled me away. “We’re going on a walk now, Mom. She doesn’t wanna talk anymore.”

“See,” Mom said. “He’ll do anything for you.”

***

Gene was still ringing his bell on his sixty-fifth birthday, November 16, a milestone that had seemed unthinkable a month before. We arranged a small party for his family and a few of his music buddies. Michael spent the morning setting up the backyard with microphones and guitars. He even put a TV and VCR on a cart on wheels to play home videos. We drove out to the Mexican supermarket and bought carnitas and a case of mini Corona bottles. On the way out he impulse-bought a ceramic Day of the Dead guitar to give his dad. When the friends arrived at the house, Mom took the opportunity to go have some time alone and run errands at Vons and CVS.

The men barbecued pork, and I made pico de gallo, according to Bonnie’s instructions. It was a hit. The men in their cowboy getups were shocked that the English girl had prepared it. The sun was shining, people were sitting out, eating the barbecue. Michael tried his best to get people to play music but it wasn’t happening. How do you celebrate the birthday of a dying man? I couldn’t figure out what to do with myself. At one point, Michael gave his dad the ceramic guitar wrapped up in Christmas wrapping paper. “Día de los Muertos,” said his dad. He held the guitar in his palms, disgusted.

The men got it together and started playing “The Cowboy Who Started the Fight.” Gene watched on in his wheelchair. He closed his eyes as they sang “screamed through the veins of the street.” They sang a few more songs. Michael and I took a break to catch the sun go down over a field of tomato vines. In the ten minutes that we were out, Gene stood up with a guitar to play a song with them. He was just sitting back down as we came in the door. Soon after, the guys all left.

“Man plans, God laughs,” Michael said.

Mom was gone for most of the day. She returned from her errands with a gift for Michael. She was so excited about it, she wanted to give it to him straight away. Out of a green and white paper bag, Michael pulled a fluffy llama with wonky eyes. He squeezed it and the llama squeaked.

“It’s a dog toy,” he said, sounding like his father when he held the Day of the Dead guitar. Mom laughed and laughed. She said it reminded her of Michael and the blueberry muffin. I laughed too. Michael grimaced.

“Oh no … I think he’s angry,” Mom said.

“Here,” I told Michael. “Don’t be angry. Squeeze your dog toy.”

He took the llama in both hands, crossed his eyes, stuck his tongue out, and let it rip.

***

November 18 was the eighth anniversary of my own father’s death. I woke up feeling sad and drained. At this point, I thought to myself, Gene needed to die or someone else would. I spent the morning swinging in the hammock by the redwood at the bottom of the garden, hiding from everyone. I heard Michael and Mom calling for me from the house. Gene wanted a massage, they said. His legs were hurting. I couldn’t face it. Michael called my phone. I ignored it.

When I went back inside, the two of them were maneuvering Gene into the living room. Michael almost dropped him and he fell back on the sofa with a cry of pain. “You’re not helping!” Mom screamed at Michael.

“Mom. I am midhelping. You’re brain-dead from your painkillers.”

“Enough!” Gene’s voice boomed from the sofa, where he was half-collapsed, falling off the side of it. “Stop it! Both of you!”

Mom and Michael stopped, ashamed.

“Now, son.” Gene took in a quiet, pained breath. “Can you help me off this damn sofa and take me back to bed?” Michael pulled him up by the armpits.

That night Gene could only manage a spoonful of canned tomato bisque.

“I think he’s going to die today. The same day as your dad. If our dads die on the same day that’s God talking. We’ll have to get married.”

Later, Michael slept next to me in the Green Room while his mom was with Gene. I dozed while I listened to Mom talk to Gene, telling him about their life together. “We’re good people,” she told him. “Weird people.” She could have been saying anything really, the hum was so soothing. “There’s no one around here like us.” It kept sending me back to sleep.

I woke up to Gene’s voice crying out: “Help! I can’t breathe!” I pushed Michael and he bolted into the Blue Room. Mom woke up too. “I’m coming!” she called out.

I stayed in bed, listening. They were arguing about how much morphine to give Gene. Mom said Michael was giving him too much. Michael said it wasn’t enough. She ran to get the phone to call the nurse. Gene was desperately trying to get words out. He couldn’t breathe. And then a desperate gargling, drowning on thin air. Michael was saying, “It’s okay Dad. I’m right here. I’m right here,” all through the gargling until Gene was no longer making any sound.

When I walked in, Gene’s skin had already yellowed. I realized I’d seen three dead bodies now. My dad, my granddad, and Gene. They all looked the same, laid out on a hospital bed. It was five minutes to midnight. An hour later a nurse came. Another hour, and a man and a woman arrived from the mortuary. At the door, their long, gray, thinning hair obscuring half their faces, they told me they were here for the body. Never have I seen more ghoulish-looking people. They wore baggy suits with sleeves that came down over their hands, and round, shiny shoes that also seemed a few sizes too big. They moved slowly. “Was he in the military?” they asked. “No,” we said. “He was not in the military.”

“Okay, thank you.” They put a sheet over Gene’s body and wheeled him through the house, out the front door. Mom followed him out, holding PooPoo. She wanted to show the dog that Dad was leaving. Dad was being wheeled onto the van.

“See, it’s okay, PooPoo. There he goes. They’re wheeling him in now. He’s going …”

Michael didn’t want to watch his dad go into the back of a van. I found him in the backyard with a tall glass of vodka, smoking a cigarette. He joked that he’d been praying to his dad as he was dying. “Come on, five more minutes. If you make it five more minutes I won’t have to marry her.” Then he said that he was plotting to steal morphine to kill the dog.

All the lights were on. It was three in the morning. Michael pulled out a crate of home videos and Mom and I told him to put them away. I made us some tea. We had some more vodka. Mom went to bed and I put Michael in the shower. I washed his hair and cried, but he was like a stone. I could tell he was still obsessing about killing PooPoo. After the shower, I put him in a clean T-shirt and underwear, tucked him in to bed, and held him tight until he fell asleep.

I woke up in the morning to Michael sleeping soundly next to me. He looked so at peace I didn’t want to wake him up. It made me cry. His eyes opened. “Dad?” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. Soon after, we heard Mom howling. Long, slow howls. One of the saddest, strangest noises I’ve ever heard. “My life!” she called out between the howls. “My life!” It was almost like singing.

After that first day Mom said she needed to mourn alone. We needed to leave so she could scream and cry and talk to God. We went to Bonnie’s for a night but then Bonnie said she was too sad and stressed to have us there, with the baby coming soon. A little desperate, we decided to go camping. For the next week we drove between beaches along the central coast, walked, wrote, drank beer. Michael wrote a list of plans for the future, plans that involved him getting paid to travel, recording his album, singing at a body of water every day, building the 24-7 radio live-stream, moving every three months. He was going to give this list to his family, to prove to them that he had a plan. “You two need to move on with your own life now,” Mom had told me before we left. I couldn’t understand how his family could abandon him at a time like this. I’d had to remind her that Michael had come home to look after Gene, that we’d been living and working in Chicago. At the same time, I got what she was saying and why they didn’t want him hanging around. Michael was a liability, and now he was my liability.

***

Gene didn’t have a funeral. They were going to take his ashes out to the ocean in the spring. After the week of camping, Mom got lonely and wanted Michael back again. I decided to leave, to stay with a friend in Brooklyn for a while. I found a flight from San Francisco and booked a train from San Luis Obispo up the coast. Before I left, I found Michael a job doing yard work for a neighbor. He would save some money and leave in January. We said we might travel around. I tried to believe it could happen but I knew that it would not.

As we left for the train station, a commode arrived for Gene, more than a month late. Mom couldn’t bear to look at it, so we said we’d give it to Goodwill on the way to the station. She gave us a trash bag of old blankets to donate, too. I said a tearful goodbye to Mom and she gave me an envelope with a hundred-dollar bill in it. She thanked me for all the help and told me to get something nice for myself.

“Michael doesn’t want you to go,” she said.

I hugged her again and got in the car. “I never say goodbye,” she said. “I only say see you later.”

We drove up to the back of Goodwill and waved down a man who seemed to be accepting donations. “Is that a commode?” he asked.

“Yep. My dad just died. He never used it.”

He shook his head and tutted. “Nah. We can’t take that. That’s nasty.”

“How about these blankets?” Michael said, pointing to the trash bag.

“This bag? Those blankets?” The man took a quick sideways look. “Nah, we can’t take that either. That’s nasty, too.”

We were in a silly mood, driving to San Luis Obispo with the commode rattling in the back. It was a fresh December day. You could feel a change in the air. We stopped off at Ben Franklin’s Deli and I ordered three Californian sandwiches from the cashier, one for me, one for Michael, and one for him to bring home to his mom.

“My dad just passed away and my girlfriend is leaving for New York!” Michael announced out of nowhere.

There was still some time before the train. At the station we ran up over the footbridge to get a good view of the tracks and the hills. I took a few pictures of Michael. He took a few of me. The train came, we said goodbye, and I found a spot with a table at the back of the second-floor observation car, the same booth we’d sat in after that first trip. My bags stowed away, I looked down and saw Michael on the platform below, dancing to get my attention. He was trying to say something, but I couldn’t understand him. He mimed and danced around a bit more. Got on his knees. Drew a picture of a house with his finger in the air.

A man sitting a few seats ahead of me watched the scene in awe. All of a sudden he began narrating it to the rest of the car.

“Marry me,” the man said. “We’ll have a house by the sea.”

Michael mimed writing in a notebook, then swimming, then playing guitar.

“You can write poetry. I’ll swim. Play music,” said the man.

By this time everyone in the observation car was watching. The narrator turned to me.

“Does he have a phone number? I want to tell him something.”

“He doesn’t have a phone,” I said. “But you can leave a message on his mother’s answering machine.”

So the man dialed Mom’s number, and Michael, feeding off the audience, mimed a phone in response. I thought of Mom at home alone, rattled by the phone ringing. The man spoke to Michael through the glass and Michael nodded along, though he definitely couldn’t hear. Neither of them broke eye contact. The man said he was a preacher. He’d married about a hundred couples by now. Each time it had been uniquely special. “Why wait?” he told the future Michael, who would be listening to his mother’s answering machine if he ever got around to it. The preacher ended his message with his number, saying to call him if we wanted to get married.

The train started moving and Michael ran along the platform. I waved until I could no longer see him. Soon I was coasting inland. A rush of green-gold on either side. Pesticide farmland, trees, bushes thick with leaves, sunlight gracing the tip of everything. I stared out the window the whole journey. No sign of December anywhere, no sign of time passing. So much talk of marriage in God’s country. No doubt He had it all planned out for me.

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akumu-rai · 2 years

Text

This is based off of what happened yesterday ( or Wednesday, July 27,2022)

Warnings ⚠️ : This is a F(Y/N) because I'm a female and that's how I was feeling that day, mention of a dress

This is fluff (I think? There may be some angst for the fact that the dog has a bit of separation anxiety but other than that I think it's fluff)

There may be a part two depending on the events of the days before I write and post them,

But until then I hope that you enjoy

Kitsu-chan♡

~~~~♡Table of contents ♡~~~~

(D/N)= dog name (preferably male)

(D/N/N)= dog Nickname

(Y/N)=your name (this is female (y/n) BTW)

~~~~♡the story♡~~~~

"Do you like your hair, hunny?" My mom asked me as we exit the hair salon."Mhm, I love it!" I exclaimed as hope down the stairs.

As I reach the bottom I look up at my mom. She chuckled as she shook her head.

"Well we should get back to your dog, I'm sure he's panicking," she says as we cross the road and head to our car.

"Ya I guess (D/N) is worried," I chuckle as we reach the car.

~~~~♡later ♡~~~~

"We are here~! (D/N/N)" I say as we pull into the driveway of my dad's work, after my mom parks I open my door and go see my dog "so, how was he?" I asked my dad,

"Well, he was just saying wear he was and hiding from me, as usual." I chuckle as I crouch down and pet (D/N) as he hides from my dad as he unties his leash and hands it to me.

"Come on puppur, let's get in the car for a road trip," I say as I open the back door of the car and get in as my mom and dad go get his bag with his stuff, after a little bit (D/N) released that were going on a road trip and hops in the back.

I pet (D/N)'s head as I talk with him about random things while my parents are walking back with his stuff. "Did you get (D/N) in the car? " my mom asked as she handed me the bag. "yup he got in by himself after a bit but he seems like he wants to go on a trip." I say as I take the bag and look for (D/N)'s treats and give him half of one (my mom broke them in 3 pieces because my dog Riley didn't need a whole one, also they are the beef jerking dog treats, - note from kitsu-Chan). I get up and get out of the car and close the back door and open the front passenger door and sit and get buckled and close the door.

As mom got into the car she started the car and buckled herself. "Well, see you later!" I yell wavering to my dad and his co-workers.

On the way home (D/N) lade his head on the thing in the middle of the two seats (I don't remember what it is called, but if you know please let me know- note from kitsu-Chan)

~~~~♡when we got home♡~~~~

We got out of the car and went inside. I took off (D/N)'s leash and went to sit down as he followed me, my mom sat on the couch and pulled out her phone and did stuff on it as I pulled out my tablet (I don't have a phone but if you do then you can pretend that it says phone - note from kitsu-Chan)

I played some games for a bit until mom fell asleep, I got up and went to put on my shoes and grabbed (D/N) leash as he jumped in excitement, as I lend down to clip the leash on his collar he laid down and should me his stomach, I pet his stomach and clipped I stand up and open the door to let him outside.

"Let’s go down to the mailbox, (D/N/N)!" I say as we walk to the end of the driveway and head down to the mailbox, as we walk to the mailbox (D/N) sniffs the grass that is along the side of the road, we stop at the mailbox and I opened it to see if there was anything in it, but it was empty.

We turnaround and start running up the hill to our house but I stop for a moment and pull up the side of my dress and we continue on our way home as we reach our driveway I'm out of breath but (D/N)

Drags me to the door and wants for me to open the door.

After we get inside I take off the leash and my shoes. We head out to the living room(or family room whatever you prefer) . I sit back down on the chair and (D/N) lays down on the floor as I play on my tablet.

My mom woke up and turned on the TV and Xbox. She went on Netflix and watched a TV show for a bit until she had to leave for something.

Later my dad came home and we talked for a bit and he said that I can go for a nap and he can take care of (D/N).

I went to bed for a bit and then my dad came in to wake me up for dinner.

"Well, if you want you can go back to bed for a little more (Y/N)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡the end for now ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that you enjoyed reading this and if I made some mistakes please let me know

See you soon

- kitsu-Chan

#new dog #haircut #fanfic #oc #free write #first story

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metalbuckaroo · 3 years

Text

Birthday to Remember

SUMMARY// After being pulled along to a strip club by your friends on your birthday, you end up leaving with some company.

WARNINGS// smut, oral (f receiving), kinda corruption kink, pussyjob, cursing, mentions of tobacco and alcohol use

AU// Stripper!Bucky x Innocent!Readee

AN// Requests and asks are always open, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

Masterlist

Moodboard by// @commonintrest Dividers by// @skylightlantern

The last thing you wanted on your birthday was for your friends to drag you to a strip club. You felt awkward and out of place walking amongst the room full of half naked men and drinking customers.

"This just feels weird." You sighed, following your three friends towards the bar that was in the corner. "We'll get one of those private rooms they have here for parties and a beefy man. It will be a birthday to remember, c'mon." One of them grinned.

You pitched in on the drinks and a private room, one of the men walking in right after you. Dark, chin length hair and a sweet smile that nearly distracted from the tight leather shorts that left little to the imagination.

You spent most of the time staring down into your glass, having to silently remind yourself you were suppose be having fun as your friends cheered and giggled as they stuffed bills into the waistband of the man's shorts; whose named you learned was Bucky.

You weren't really paying attention to what he was doing. More to the way the silvery metal of his arm gleamed under the dimmed lights and where metal met flesh at the base of his shoulder.

Wondering how he got it or if he could feel when someone touched it, rather than thinking of the smooth way his body moved.

One of your friends said something to him that you couldn't quite make out. Bucky nodding and looking over at you with a half smile.

"Want the birthday special?" He asked, moving to stand in front of you. Your face warmed at his words and you swallowed thickly, shaking your head. "No, it's fine."

"Oh, come on. Don't be a prude." One of the three girls groaned, poking one of your crossed legs.

Wetting your lips, you glanced up at Bucky who looked at you with welcoming eyes. "Yeah, okay." You nodded.

Your stomach flipped when he took the drink from your hands, handing it to your friend before the cool metal of his left hand nudged at your knee for you to uncross your legs.

Bucky placed his hands on the back of the couch, your shoulders trapped between metal and flesh as he leaned down to talk in your ear. "If you're uncomfortable with anything, just pinch me."

You gave another nod and he smiled, flashing his pearly whites as he leaned his knees against the edge of the plush cushion on either side of yours.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest when he tugged at the laces of the shorts to loosen them before taking your hands in his.

Bucky was eating up every reaction you gave. The way you chewed your bottom lip as he guided your hands along the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, your fingers feeling every dip in the smooth skin and grazing over the barbells that pierced through his nipples.

He especially liked the way you weren't trying to rush his hands to go under his shorts; letting him be in full control.

Your eyes went wide when he stopped your hands at the waistband of the leather, the sound of your heart beating and blood rushing in your ears almost drowning out the sound of your friends giggling and squealing.

And the sound of the door opening.

"Buck, you've got a set." Another man said from the doorway. "I'm in the middle of a session." Bucky huffed, looking over his shoulder but not moving your hands. "Cap is gonna fill in."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Bucky finally let go of your hands, but his close proximity wasn't letting your body relax just yet as he leaned to peck a kiss to your cheek. "Happy birthday." He chuckled before standing.

A broad blonde took his place, this one letting you sit in peace and stare into you half empty glass.

"I'm gonna head home." You exhaled, glancing at the happy looks on your friend's faces. "Fine, buzz kill." One of them muttered.

Pushing through the crowded club, you pushed the heavy metal door open. Bucky was leaned against the concrete wall of the building not far from the door, now in a pair of sweats and a hoodie as he smoked a cigarette.

"The birthday girl." He grinned, blue eyes meeting yours as you stepped closer. "Want one?" He asked, holding the cigarette out towards you. "Uh, no. Thanks."

"Listen-" he cleared his throat, pushing away from the wall to stand in front of you. "I can find someone to cover for me if you need some company on your walk home." He offered before bringing the cigarette to his lips.

"I'll be fine, I'm not too far." You shrugged, looking to the sidewalk. "You can't walk alone, it's one in the morning." Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "That's different than walking with a stranger?"

His tongue jutted out across his bottom lip, eyebrows twitching upwards. "Well- I was about five seconds away from putting your hand in my shorts around thirty minutes ago. I think I'm a little better than a stranger." He teased, leaning forward slightly. "Besides, your friends kinda seem like assholes."

He wasn't wrong. They were sometimes pushy, telling you to loosen up a little and dragging you along with them to places where you felt out of place.

"Ok, fine." You exhaled. Bucky cracked a smile and dropped his cigarette, stomping it out under his shoe. "Let me get my stuff, just wait here for a second." He said, brushing his fingers to your forearm.

"Thanks, for walking with me." You said as you unlocked your front door. "This isn't the worst side of town but it's not the best either." Bucky said with a small laugh.

"I forgot to tip you, by the w-" his warm hand stopped yours from digging in your wallet, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Just- invite me in for a drink." He shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. "You're not a creep, are you?"

Bucky laughed, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "No, just don't want a pretty girl to spend her birthday alone. Plus, I had someone take over my shift."

"Well, my apartment is dry. So, you're out of luck on that drink." You smiled, opening the door to walk into the small studio apartment. "That's fair."

Bucky was good company as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, telling you funny stories about his time working at the club and listening intently to anything you said. The lighting in your apartment made his eyes even more blue than you'd noticed earlier and his features look sharper, framed by his dark locks.

Over the last couple of hours he had slowly moved his way closer to you. Close enough that you could smell his woodsy cologne mixed in with the scent of cigarettes, his metal arm resting on the back of the couch as his right hand would occasionally brush against you when he'd talk.

"You're cute, like a bunny." He said with a small laugh, making your face heat up. "Thanks, I guess?" You mumbled, chewing your tongue as he lifted his hand to your cheek.

He hummed in response, leaning closer until his lips brushed yours and your breathing hitched.

You pressed a hand against his chest and leaned away slightly. "I've never..." You trailed off, hoping he'd get the point. "I figured that much. Can go as far as you want, or we don't have to at all."

"How many girls have you said that to?" You silently cursed yourself for saying it as soon as you did, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He just chuckled and brushed his thumb over the tip of your nose. "I'm more of a long term guy. Pretty sure I can count who I've slept with on one hand."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." You said quietly, pulling at a string on the seam of your jeans. "I know." Bucky said before slotting his lips over yours, the kiss gentle and sweet.

The taste of cigarettes and mint gum flooded your tastebuds when his tongue slipped past your lips to press into yours, the softness of his plump lips contrasting the scratch of his stubble.

Bucky just felt so welcoming, his touches cautious to wait for you to stop him as his hand moved from your cheek. Fingers ghosting down the side of your neck to leave goosebumps in their wake, along the buttons of your blouse and finally stopping to wedge between your thighs.

He pulled away, leaving your breathless as you blinked your eyes open to meet his lust filled blue ones. "Remember to pinch me if anything makes you uncomfortable." He teased, pecking a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Things were moving fast, clothes quickly discarded on the path from the couch to your bed. Bucky's hands and lips only parting from you long enough to rid another clothing item that shielded his skin from yours until all that stood in his way was your underwear and his leather shorts.

You weren't sure if it was the head rush from only knowing Bucky for a few hours after holding out for so long, or the way his darkened eyes looked you over as he bent his body over yours.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed, leaving a brisk kiss to your lips before trailing wet kisses down your neck and chest.

Your hands gripped onto the sheets harder the further down your abdomen he got, trying to keep your breathing even as fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear.

Bucky looked up at you one last time before dragging the fabric down your legs, tossing them to the side and taking his spot back between your legs.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he peppered kisses to the inside of your thighs, cold metal and warm flesh gently massaging the outsides of them as his stubble scraped at your skin.

A squeak erupted from your throat when he sunk his teeth into the supple flesh, making you move your leg away from his face to pull the skin from between his teeth.

Bucky chuckled and placed a soothing kiss on the mark. One to remind you that none of this had been a dream.

An excited chill ran down your spine when his hot breath fanned your dripping folds. Bucky giving one last glance before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, a soft chuckle bubbling in his chest when your body jolted and you drew in a sharp breath.

"So responsive, I could get use to that." He winked, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

Bucky basked in every breathy sound and reaction he elicited from you, moaning at the taste he wanted to burn into his memory. In hopes he had another chance at this, the slice of heaven he held in his hands.

The chance to have his own angel to bend and mold into his filthiest dream.

He moved his hand to ease his middle finger into your heat, groaning at the immediate flutter of your walls as your hands fisted the sheet and chest heaved with a soft moan.

"Oh, c'mon. You can be louder than that, bunny." Bucky purred, curling the long, thick finger to find the sweet spot to set off the reaction he wanted. A louder moan pulling from your chest when he found the rough patch just inside your cunt making him smirk. "There it is."

He locked his lips around your clit again, fingers curling into the spot that pulled the vulgar sounds from your sweet lips as he sucked and flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves. An unfamiliar feeling quickly building in your lower belly.

"Bucky-" You keened as white hot pleasure surged through you, your trembling thighs closing on his head as his metal hand moved from your hip to grope at your chest.

His fingers pinched and grazed the pebbled bud before massaging the flesh under his palm as your back arched, your breath catching in your throat and ears ringing.

Bucky lifted his head from between your legs, finger continuing to stroke your walls to work you through your orgasm as he pulled the laces of his shorts loose.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive as you opened your eyes again to Bucky standing at the end of the bed and shoving the shorts down his thick thighs. Erection springing free to give a glance of the two barbells on the underside of his cock. One under the ridge of his swollen head, the other at the base.

Your heart pounded in your ears when he moved back between your legs, stomach flipping from the nerves as his leaking tip ran through your folds and prodded your entrance. "Wait-"

Your hand pressed to the firm muscles of Bucky's stomach made his movements still and eyes flick up to meet your nervous expression. "We can stop if you want. Or we can try something else." He suggested, leaning on his palms to catch your lips in his briefly.

You nodded and let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, something else." You breathed.

A whimper passed your lips when he rocked his hips forward, the barbell sliding over your clit sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Bucky's bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth as let out quiet groans from the feeling of your slick coating his shaft.

"Talk to me, bunny. This okay?" He panted, gaze raking over your naked form that still had the sheet clutched tightly as melodic sounds spilled from your lips.

"Feels good," You panted, words slightly slurred from the dizzy feeling in your head caused by the pressure quickly building again. "So good." He moaned, holding his base to have better guidance through your folds.

You bit your lip into your mouth as tears prickled your eyes from the second wave of warmth that spread, choking out a moan as his pace quickened.

"Fucking shit-" Bucky huffed, his grip on your thigh tightening and release spilling onto your lower abdomen.

You inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to steady your heart beat as he pecked a kiss to your knee before standing from the bed to grab a piece of clothing for clean up.

You pulled the blanket from under you to hold to your chest, waiting for him to get dressed and make an excuse to leave like you'd heard your friends talk about after a hook up.

Instead, he wandered towards the kitchen, finding an empty can as he lit a cigarette, your eyes staying fixed on the way the muscles in his back rippled with his movements.

"C'mere." Bucky said with a soft groan as he got under the blankets with you, sitting the can on the nightstand. "You're staying?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

"If you want me to, yeah." He shrugged, holding his arm out for you to lay on as he placed the cigarette between his teeth and grabbed a pillow to cushion the metal.

You gave a soft yeah and cuddled into his side, the soft whirring of his arm under the pillow helping you slowly drift to sleep.

You felt yourself waking up as the bed dipped under the weight of Bucky moving, deciding not to fully wake up and let him leave in silence.

"Hey," Bucky whispered, moving his body over yours to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "Hmm?" You hummed in response, peaking an eye open to look at the slate blue eyes that held adoration in them.

His knuckles brushed down your arm, a sweet kiss placed on your lips as he gave you a soft smile. "I gotta go, but I left my personal number under your alarm clock. Give me a call sometime."

You nodded and smiled lightly at him, another kiss pecked to your lips before he left the bed to gather his things, walking towards the door.

"I'm gonna hold ya to that, bunny."

TAGLIST: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @eireduchess

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #stripper!bucky smut #stripper!bucky #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barns x you

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m-jelly · 2 years

Note

hi dear This is the first time I'm sending you a request I feel like my idea may seem ridiculous!Anyway,if you want to ignore.A modernUA where the reader goes out to work in the morning and Levi is looking forward to his return Levi tidies up the house and has constant fantasies in his mind about when her wife will return home.When he hears the sound of his wife's keys opening the door, he gets excited and can't wait to hug her.I leave the last to you.with a cling levi!you're the best, love you❤

Aww, such a cute one <3 Happy to do this :D

Hurry back to me.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Modern AU, clingy Levi, loving Levi, married couple, fluff, cuteness, cuddly Levi, loving Levi.

Concept: Levi has been given some time off work and gets to stay at home, you also have some time off, but you have one more day of work. You head out to work and leave your husband all alone at home. Levi struggles to keep himself happy and entertained while you're gone and keeps thinking up situations in his head. When you finally come home, Levi acts like a dog excited to see his master home and holds you so tightly and showers you with love.

Levi cuddled you as his body started waking up for the day. He snuggled closer, then covered your shoulders in loving kisses. "Good morning, my sweet brat."

You hummed a laugh. "Morning handsome." You rolled over and faced him. "You're very happy this morning."

"First day off."

You kissed him, then sat up. "Not mine."

Levi whined. "Where are you going?"

You got out of bed. "I have a half-day off today, then I have time off to spend with you."

He hugged your middle. "Don't go."

You sighed. "I have to." You turned and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back home for lunch."

He pouted, then slammed his face against the bed. "Mean wife."

You patted his back. "I am." You did your routine and partway through it, you had Levi following you. You grabbed your bag, then turned to Levi. "You okay?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Tch." He pouted a little. "What the hell can I say to get you to stay at home?"

You cupped his face and kissed him. "I'll see you later."

He followed you to the door and called your name. "I'll say anything! I'll do anything!"

You blew him a kiss. "Be back at lunch!"

"When!?"

You laughed. "One!"

He sighed as he watched you leave and was left all alone. He whined a little, then dragged his feet as he walked back into the apartment. He looked around the apartment and could just see you everywhere. He instantly missed you. Levi hadn't been home alone without you in many years, so it was hard for him.

He cleaned around the apartment and made sure all the breakfast things were put away. He stopped a moment and felt bored. He knew he needed to do a lot more to keep his mind busy, so he did a full apartment clean from top to bottom. He made the place smell fantastic.

He sat on the sofa after finishing, then felt sadness fill him. He'd made the house smell of cleaning things and not you. He went to the bedroom, then grabbed the thick sloppy cardigan that you lived in and wore it. He wrapped it around him and hummed in happiness.

He lay on his side on the sofa, then closed his eyes as he inhaled your scent. He smiled when he imagined you lying on his chest, then lifting your head and giving him a pretty smile. He reached down to play with your hair, but you weren't there.

Levi opened his eyes and sighed, then he heard a little clink of china in the kitchen. He leaned over the arm of the sofa and could just imagine you humming a song as you made a pot of tea for you and Levi. He smiled, then blinked and you were gone.

Levi pressed his face against the arm of the sofa and groaned loudly. He sat up, then turned the tv on and searched for something to watch. He saw something you'd like and went to shout your name, but remembered you weren't home. He tossed the remote onto the sofa, then sighed and pouted.

He leaned his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. He expected to see you look down at him, then give him a kiss, but you weren't there. He looked over to the door and willed you to open it, but it was still too early for you. So, he sat and stared at the door as his fingers drummed away on his thigh.

He perked up when he heard someone outside the door. He ran over to it and opened it quickly, only to make a delivery man jump. Levi's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "For Mrs Ackerman?"

The man nodded and handed the box over. "You missing your wife, sir?"

Levi signed for the box, then took it. "Tch, maybe."

"Lucky woman to have such a loving husband." He waved. "Have a good day!"

Levi closed the door, then walked over to the kitchen. He opened the box and smiled at all the things you'd bought. You'd gotten loads of different teas for the two of you to enjoy, along with some snacks. He put everything away, then returned to his spot on the sofa and thought about how sweet you were to him.

He huffed, then glanced at the time and saw it was almost one. He ran around the apartment making you lunch and a nice drink. He stopped when he heard your keys in the door. He turned to the door and as soon as you walked in, he tackled you into a hug making you stumble back and laugh.

You rubbed Levi's back. "Hi."

Levi picked you up. "I missed you!"

You laughed at how sweet he was. "I missed you too. Could you carry me to the bedroom? I want to put on my comfy things."

Levi nodded and carried you where you wanted, then put you down and watched you change. "Was work okay?"

"It was alright. I'm happy to have time off now and I get to spend it with my handsome and sexy husband." You ruffled your hair and frowned. "Are you wearing my cardigan?"

He blushed. "I missed you."

You hummed a laugh, then hugged him. "You're so precious."

He gave you a tight squeeze. "I missed you a lot today. I kept seeing you everywhere and thinking you were home, or you'd walk through the door."

"Bless you. I'm the same when you're not home."

He gasped. "Really?"

You nodded. "Really. Now, let's have some lunch and we can snuggle."

Levi held your hand and walked with you. "I made lunch. I've also found a tv show you'd like."

You kissed his cheek a few times. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

#levi ackerman #levi #fanfic #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #snk levi #aot levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff

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dudeandduchess · 3 years

Text

Baseball Player!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: ❌📛🔞Locker Room Fun🔞📛❌ (Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) visits her husband during training, and is in for a surprise when he makes the most of things… in the locker room.

Note: After a while of thinking, I decided to finally pick this back up. Also, I didn’t have much time to research, so the description for the stadium’s interior is based solely on my experience. 😅

Warnings: Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Mild D/s Themes, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Loud Sex, Mild Sadism, Semi-Public Sex

***

If (Y/n) were to take a guess, she would say that Kyōjurō was doing what he was doing just to tease her. From the way that his ass looked so good in those pants, to the way that he would stretch his arms up over his head and show off his muscles— she had to admit that he looked scrumptious.

Tasty enough to make her bite down on her bottom lip, as she squeezed her legs together to alleviate the need building between her thighs.

But, as far as she knew, Kyōjurō couldn’t have known that she was there— since her visit was supposed to be a surprise. That fact made it so that Kyō wasn’t doing anything on purpose; he was just that naturally sexy.

Especially with the way that his uniform clung to him, and the way that a few strands of his hair peeked out from beneath the cap he wore. Everything about him had (Y/n) fighting back her lust, and she was barely winning.

However, when Kyōjurō spotted her in the stands, he gave her a cheeky grin and wave— as well as a saucy wink— that had her practically swooning in her seat. It was just fortunate that she was good at keeping a poker face, otherwise everyone would have known just how flustered she felt inside.

And with the way that he started stretching his legs, and squatting on the field… (Y/n) swore that Kyōjurō was really trying to get mauled, by her specifically. Unfortunately for him, his wife had more self control than he gave her credit for.

If anything, he was the insatiable one when it came to sex.

So, instead of outwardly feeding into his provocation, (Y/n) merely clenched her thighs tighter together; simultaneously wishing for Kyōjurō’s practice game to drag on, and be over already— because it meant she could either keep on ogling his sexy ass, or she could finally get the kiss that she’d been craving since after he left that morning.

An hour and a half later though, the game was already over with Kyōjurō’s team winning with a two-point lead. Cheers were thrown around, as well as friendly thumps on each other’s shoulders— yet Kyōjurō merely grinned at his teammates and threw a wave over his shoulder, before dashing towards the ground railings and lifting himself up onto the bleacher area with ease.

He even found himself taking the stairs two at a time— like that would help him get to his wife faster. Meanwhile, (Y/n) got out of her seat and met him halfway; arms wide open as her husband wrapped his own arms around her waist and hugged her tightly to his chest.

“I missed you, baby!” And without so much as a care about their spectators, Kyōjurō leaned in and slanted his lips against his wife’s delectable mouth. He even went saucier and opened his lips to snake his tongue between her lips— loving the way that she immediately gave in to his whim.

From below, they could hear whistles and cat calls, yet they paid it no mind. Rather, (Y/n) couldn’t focus on anything else except Kyōjurō’s lips sucking on her tongue, as well as his hands making their way down to her ass. And, unmistakably, she could feel his cock slowly getting hard against her.

“I can tell, Kyō,” (Y/n) answered with a cheeky grin, catching her breath during the reprieve that her husband had given her. “I can help you out with that… at home.”

“I can’t wait that long, (Y/n). I want you so bad,” Kyōjurō whispered heatedly, cupping her ass in his hands and pushing his erection more insistently against her body. He would have given in and just fucked her right there, especially with how tempting she looked from the moment he saw her, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be fined for indecent exposure.

So, as if a lightbulb went on in his head, Kyōjurō put a stopper on his overflowing need for his wife, and blurted out, “I have an idea… but we just have to wait a few minutes.”

“Why do I both love and hate the sound of that?”

“Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.”

***

And not even half an hour later, (Y/n) found herself getting dragged into the underbelly of the stadium; her footsteps echoing against the concrete floors and walls.

Everything was so wide and spacious, with carts going to and fro every once in a while. It was honestly a little daunting, which was why (Y/n) found herself hugging her husband’s arm; on top of already holding his hand.

Kyōjurō also smiled and waved at a few people, even going to accept a few hand shakes and pats on his shoulder from people they passed by. He was the epitome of a golden boy in baseball, that it was literally stated in his contract that he had to keep up a good rapport with his fans.

And (Y/n) couldn’t help but let her thoughts get the better of her— admiring her husband so much, that it made her want him so much more than she did before. Everything in her told her to pounce on him, like he had with her, and she was about to…

That was, until she and Kyōjurō reached a door that led off to a carpeted— and much quieter— area; away from the hustle and bustle of the people outside.

It smelled like disinfectant in there, and a little bit of sweat, which was why she was thankful that Kyōjurō practically ran with her deeper into the room; until they reached the showers. On one side was the communal shower area, and on the other— where her husband was pulling her to— were a few shower cubicles.

Kyōjurō wasted no time then, merely looking around to check if his teammates were already back from their cooldown workouts, before stripping his uniform off and heaping them in a pile right outside the stall.

All the while, (Y/n) could only bite down on her bottom lip as inch upon inch of her husband’s skin was revealed to her. And from the way that his abs looked, down to the way that his muscles moved— everything was making her so wet and needy.

Especially the sight of his big and hard cock.

Before she could stop herself, she had already pounced on him; wrapping her arms around his neck, while he lifted her up and held her up under her thighs. Thankfully, she had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to wear any panties beneath her sundress— as if a part of her just knew that it was going to happen.

Kyōjurō then pressed her back flush against the cold tile in the stall, making her gasp at the sudden temperature change, and making his cock twitch right where it was flush against (Y/n)’s pussy.

“Be quiet, baby, otherwise we’re going to get caught,” the young man teased with a grin, leaning in to kiss his wife’s lips, before nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth.

The action had (Y/n) chasing after the blond’s lips, making the blond chuckle as he gave in to her wishes; capturing her mouth in an open mouthed kiss, which she gladly reciprocated.

Until Kyōjurō inched his right hand higher up the underside of her thigh, pressing his fingers against her entrance and even pushing his ring and middle fingers inside up to the first knuckle.

That action, however, was already enough to have (Y/n) moaning in pleasure, all while she crossed her legs by the ankles— using that leverage to start rubbing her clit against the underside of Kyōjurō’s erection.

“Please, Daddy,” (Y/n) whispered in a plea, eyes fluttering closed as she felt his fingers going deeper inside her— scissoring within her walls, all to get her much wetter for something bigger.

“Please what, baby? You have to tell me what you want,” The young man teased, kissing his wife’s cheek as he felt her thighs clench harder around his hips.

And, as if to stir her up even more, he began to move his hips against hers— dragging his cock against her clit, in turn making her eyes flutter shut as salacious moans spilled free from her lips. “Please… fuck me. Fuck m-”

(Y/n)’s words were brought to a pause when she felt Kyōjurō’s fingers pull out of her, leaving her pussy feeling so empty; much, much needier. However, before she could even beg for more, her husband had already taken pity on her and lifted her up a little bit, if only to align his cock right with her entrance.

Then, he pushed in the barest inch— making (Y/n) moan aloud as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breaths came in short bursts then, with her head feeling so heavy and her entire body getting so warm for him. It was as if an electric current passed through her, with how much pleasure she got from that one move alone.

Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself, he pushed in even more, gritting his teeth when he felt (Y/n)’s hands at the back of his neck— one of them scratching at his nape, while the other one curled into his hair. “Fuck, baby, I didn’t even eat you out but you’re this wet.”

“I’ve been wet since I saw you on the field, Daddy,” The young woman admitted through a moan, eyes hazy with delirious pleasure even as she tried to look right into her husband’s flame colored eyes.

At that, Kyōjurō claimed her lips in a kiss, letting it consume both of them until he moved his hips to begin thrusting against her. Every push of his cock inside her had her moaning against his mouth, all while her fingers kept tugging at his hair and gently scratching at his nape.

It only served to egg him on, to the point where a part of him didn’t care about how loud they were being; not when he was drowning in so much pleasure, and so much warmth in his wife’s arms.

Really, he’d already known that he was so lucky to have her— that moment was just reminding him of how much.

Every move felt like it was knocking the breath out of (Y/n), yet she held on tight and let herself sink into the heady pleasure she had been craving for. Especially when Kyōjurō pushed in really deep and brushed against her cervix.

Her legs tensed up at that, as a mix of white hot pleasure with just a hint of pain, ran down her entire body. “Deeper, Daddy! Deeper, please!”

Kyōjurō did as she asked, angling his hips to hit the part that made her absolutely crazy, only to be rewarded by her tightening her legs around his hips so she could meet him thrust for thrust. Her efforts weren’t doing much, but it was enough for him— given how he had her pressed up against the shower wall.

In the midst of things, he’d almost forgotten about his teammates— and how they would be done with their cooldown workouts soon— so, when the thought hit him, he began to thrust faster. He chased after his and his wife’s orgasms enthusiastically, not minding the noise they made since he was sure that no one other than them were in the showers.

If anything, them being so loud was turning him on even more. Especially with the way that his wife kept moaning his name in between kisses; he was loving every second of it, and wanted to prolong it as much as possible.

But slowly, he could feel the pleasure finally about to reach a tipping point within him. It was evident in his wife too, what with the way that her walls clenched down around his cock.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that she was trying to keep his cock in her forever. A hot thought, but definitely well within the realms of fantasy more than reality.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” He whispered through winded breaths, keeping up with his initial pace before going for one last burst of speed— a move that had (Y/n) keening in pleasure, as she threw her head back and came around his cock.

It was the headiest thing that he had seen since the night before, when he’d fucked her much harder with her all tied up in their bed. And it also served to have him opting for slower and deeper thrusts, all so he could savor his own orgasm— and maybe wring out another one from her.

Her walls fluttered around his dick, adding to the headiness he already felt bubbling within him; pushing him closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in— sliding his cock in to the hilt and pressing his slit up against (Y/n)’s sweet spot as he came.

He could even feel her shaking, as it triggered another orgasm from her.

And by the time that his thoughts were clear enough to make sense of what had just happened, he pulled back a little to look at how blissed out his wife was; feeling the corners of his lips tip up into a smile, before he leaned in to press the sweetest of kisses to those lips that he loved the most in the world.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby. So, so lucky.”

***

BONUS:

“Has anyone seen where Rengoku went?”

Kyōjurō’s eyes immediately widened when he heard the voices coming down the hall— right into the shower area. And with a panicked look over his shoulder, then right at his wife, he had only realized that he didn’t even pull the shower curtain closed.

So, with his quick reflexes, he pulled the curtain closed just in time to hear the first of his teammates enter the shower area.

“Hey, Rengoku’s already here! His things are on the floor.” And those words had Kyō panicking even more, because there he was— with his dick still in his wife— in the team’s shower.

“We are not doing this again, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) hissed under her breath, all while praying that no one would mess with her husband and open the curtain. Because really, they’d get more than they bargained for.

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

#tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #yandere ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt x reader #mcyt #ranboolive #ranboo #tubbo #dream smp #dsmp #ranboo dsmp #ranboo dreamsmp #tubbo dsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #tubbo mcyt #ranboo mcyt

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