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#and I've been thinking about trying to get back into sports for like two years
radiocrypt-id · 2 months
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The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)
Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.
Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.
The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.
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cheriladycl01 · 11 days
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Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader
Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.
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"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.
"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.
"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.
"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.
"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.
"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.
"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.
"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.
"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.
"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.
"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.
"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.
"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.
"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.
"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.
"You don't?" you offer back.
"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.
"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.
"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.
"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.
"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.
"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.
"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.
"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"
"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.
"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.
"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.
"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.
You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.
"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.
"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.
"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.
"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.
"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.
"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.
"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.
"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.
y/user
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Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris
y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺
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oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time
landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!
-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?
-> landonorris: not really :0
-> y/user: well … Osc?
-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(
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Your Instagram Story Caption:
Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺
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whore-ibly-hot · 4 months
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Best friend!Retro-gamer!Yandere x Fem! Or Transmasc!Reader
"My Player Two"
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, cum play, begging, general perversion, dry-humping.
(AN: Merry early xmas or equivalent holiday, guys! I have given you all the present of rising from the grave to deliver some submissive yandere horny thoughts.)
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A gentle tug shakes you out of your thoughts, making you sit up quickly and turn your attention to your friend, Lewis.
The curly haired brunettes tongue just barely pokes out between his lips, thick coke-bottle glasses slipping off his nose. He's trying his best to play his video game, whilst also keeping one hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I asked you somethin'!" He says, not glancing away from the screen.
"Sorry, just zoned out. Whatcha need?" You tilt your head and adjust your posture when he puts the hand from your shoulder back onto his controller.
"I was telling you that I think I'm real close to beating my Galaga score at the arcade on 54th. Real close to getting my initials up on that screen."
"That's great, Lewis. I'm glad all that practicing with your hands is paying off." He blushes at the encenuation. "You know, if you'd like you could come and see me, when I get that high score. It'd be pretty great." He grabs an old plastic cup by the side of his bed, handing it to you with a shake.
"I've even got a few coins for you, if you want them. Maybe we could play a couple rounds side-by-side, or I could use them, and get you a slushie or something from the prize counter." He looks at you hopefully, with large eyes. You giggle, and reach out to adjust his glasses, pushing them back up his nose. "Sure, Lewis. I can bring my own coins though how much you covet those coins." He chuckles.
The clock chimes 9:00 and your head whips over to see the time. "Oh, geez. I gotta get out of here, Lewis, I've got classes in the morning." He pouts a little, trying to think of a reason to get you to stay a little longer.
"Hey, maybe you could sleep over, just borrow one of my shirts. I'd hate to make you go home, plus I've got food here." He stands. You shake your head as you fumble around for your stuff.
"I can't Lewis, thanks though, I'll see you soon, okay? Uh, call me when you plan to go to the arcade, alright."
"Okay, goodnight then, Y/N..." he watches wistfully as you leave, trying to resist the urge to pull you back for just a few more minutes. He'd give you soda, or some more snacks. Lewis is hesitant to let anyone touch his controllers, but if you wanna play two player, he'll allow it, you'd just have to promise to be gentle. He knows you would be though, your always so gentle. With him, with animals and other people, (though he wishes it was him mostly.).
Lewis has never been popular at your school, it was bad in elementary, and only got worse when the social politics of high school kicked in. He was scrawny, freckled, and loved anything geeky. He was bad at sports and an only child, making him a little socially inept. He didn't care though, he may had wanted someone in elementary to play with, or in sixth and seventh grade to be his friend, but by eight grade year, it didn't matter. That's when he met you. Sweet, perfect you.
You were immediately popular at school. You were friendly, attractive, and outgoing, everything he tried and failed to be. Becoming your friend changed everything for him. He was still bullied and picked on, but it didn't matter. As long as you saw him as worthy, he was happy. His parents even stopped goading him about going out more, once they saw he actually had a friend, which just led him to have more time to stay indoors, with you and his consoles.
He lays on his bed thinking about how much you've meant to him, having set his controller aside, when he realizes the scent of your shampoo is still lingering on his pillow. You smell so good, and there's still a warm patch from where your laying.
"No... fuck." He whines, feeling his cock twitch to life from under his jeans. He runs a hand through his hair, fighting shame and carnal need. He quickly pokes his head around his blinds, making sure his parents aren't home yet. After deciding the coast is clear, He locks his door and gets under his bed, digging around for his book. Eventually, he finds the family photo fromthe christmas card your family sent his last december, just a couple months ago. He feels so dirty for jerking it to your family photo, especially considering your other family members pictures are on the page, but all the cute Polaroid pictures he has of the pair of you are still developing, and he really needs to look at you right now.
Normally, he'd just just turn on the adult late night channels, but he heard from some of the guys at school that usage of those channels are starting to reflect on cables bills, and he'd rather not get his TV taken.
In a moment of desperation, he kisses your photo once, before taping it up to his headboard, and grabbing the nearest pillow. Even though it's not you, and his cock desperately needs to be free from his jeans, he wants to make it romantic. He straddles the pillow, pretending in his head that this isnt weird at all, it's just.... practice for if, no, when he convinces you that he can provide reasons for you to love him.
"Y/N..." he huffs, looking down at the pillow and trying not to think about how embarrassing he's being. "I like you so much, I do, and I need-" he rolls his hips. "I need to be in you, I do." He tries to imagine what you might say.
"I know, i-its my first time too, but it'll be really good. I'll make sure I make you feel good, and I'll go really slow, even if I want to speed up." He begins undoing his pants. "You know, you thought you were being funny, making that dirty joke about practicing with my hands, but I bet some of that dexterity might carry over?" He chuckles, before groaning as he kicks off his boxers. "Stupid, that was stupid. Don't say that when this is a sure thing."
He looks down at his freckled dick, the tip red and leaking, slightly bulbous. He's pretty thin, but a decent length. He's sure if he figured out the right way to use it, he'd make you feel amazing. He's know you'll make him feel amazing.
"I'm gonna put it in now, okay? Y-yeah, yeah I'll go slow. Of course, I wouldn't hurt you or anything, unless you wanted that. I'd do anything for you." He groans, before rubbing his tip against the pillow and pumping his hips slowly. He pants, glasses fogging up.
"S' really good, not just on my dick but... but having you up against me, feels so nice to hold you." He clutches the pillow like a life preserver while he ruts away into it, whispering and panting praises and assurances to it.
"Gonna cum, god, I-I feel it coming. I wanna be a good guy, and pull it out but-" He moans. "You feel so good, I can't." He imagines in his head your on the pill, maybe for cramps, but... maybe just for him. "I-I can cum inside you? Really? Go's, yeah, yeah. Okay, I'll do that. I'll give it to you, and I'll clean you up right after I- shit." He can feel himself losing control at the thought of ruining you, the sight of his cum leaking out of your holes. He moans loudly, though it choked back and emotional enough it sounds like more of a cry. Thick, white cum comes out in strings, all across the crisp white fabric of his pillowcase.
Once that post-nut clarity hits, he groans. How could he be so stupid? This pillow had to be cleaned now, and that would wash out all the remnants of your scent. He sighs as he chucks the pillow case into his laundry basket, and tucks his spent cock back into his jeans. Wiping off his fogged up glasses, he looks at the photo of you again, taking it down from his bedframe. He leans back against the headboard as he looks at it.
"M'so in love with you, I wish I had the guts to say it. I play the hero all day, everyday in my games, why can't I just be like them. Strong enough to get the girl, and keep her. Not jerk off to a pillow and a family photo." He tucks it back under his bed. He'll impress you, he's just gotta find a way.
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Several days later, you got a call from Lewis to meet him at the arcade. Grabbing your keys, you head out.
Upon arriving, you enter, and see Galaga. Huh, Lewis's initials were already on the leaderboard! He must've won before you showed up. Heading outside, you hear grunting from an alleyway. Concerned, you peek around the corner, and gasp.
"Hey!" You yell, running up. The two punks who were standing over your battered friend turn there heads, only to snicker. It's two boys from you and Lewis's class.
"Oh, Y/N, perfect timing. This geek was getting taught a lesson." The jock snickers.
"What is your problem? He didn't do anything to you guys!" You push past them to try and help Lewis up, but he looks mortified to see you. "N-no, no Y/N, don't-"
"Yeah, he didn't do anything to us, it's about what he did to you, or maybe, what you did to him." You turn around, and Lewis pales. "What're you talking about?" Your brows furrow.
"This geek has been in that shitty arcade all day, playing that game. When he beat his high score, he started dancing like a little girl. We laughed at him, and he started going off. Yelling about how he didn't need our approval, and he wasn't upset. He had something we couldn't take from him. We asked him, and he said it was you." You tilt your head.
"Yeah, man. We knew this creep had been following you around for a while, but we didn't know he thought you were friends. We said we didn't believe him, and he got so upset he started claiming he was your friend, that you loved each other. Even, heh-" The two laugh. "Even that he fucked you."
"W-what?" You gasp and look at him. "Lewis?"
"I'm so sorry, I... I needed them to believe we were close, that you did care." He blubbers, reaching our weakly to your blurry form, glasses broken.
"He got graphic with it, too. Talked about condoms and taking you from behind up in his bed, since it isn't true, the little perverts been fantasizing about it for a while. If nothing else, we did you a public service, shutting this creeps mouth." The taller jock says, trying to put a hand on your shoulder.
"Don't touch them!" Lewis screeches, blindly lashing out, weakness replaced by a moment of fury. "Jesus, he's crazier than we thought. Need us to walk you home?" The jock winks. You shake your head vehemently.
"Just go." You say coldly, not turning to face them. "Whatever, bitch. Don't blame us if this sicko does something to you." Only you and Lewis are left in the alley now.
"Y/N..."
"Don't, Lewis." You snap, making him recoil into himself. "I trusted you, you were my friend, h-how could you say such lewd things about me?" You ask.
"I-I didn't meant them to be leed, I was just angry. I mean, I would like to do that stuff with you, but it'd be romantic! I'd never try and defile you or something shitty like that. Just please, can we go back inside?" He begs. "I'll get you that slushie like I promised!"
You shake your head. "I... I need some time to process all this, Lewis. I think it's best if we don't see each other for a bit." His face falls. Despite what's happened, you almost regret what you said. He looks broken.
He kneels before you, on the ground. "Y/N, no, please. Your my only friend, my best friend, I'm sorry! I'll never talk like that again, I'll do anything to make it up to you! I-I take hormone suppression pills, o-or... I don't know, take an abstinence pledge, just don't leave. Your my everything, my best friend-"
You've already left the alley when he looks up. A few game tokens lay scattered, meant for you but having been lost from his pockets during his beat down.
"No... you're supposed to be my player two..."
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valyrfia · 16 days
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Why do so many F1 fans hate on Charles Leclerc? I, myself, am an "old time" so to say fan of the sport and while I appreciate the generations past, there is no denying his astounding talent and connection to the car. And yet when I started to get back into watching recently, I have seen nothing but distasteful jabs at his ability and his fans, along the lines of "he's just a model" and "only girls in love with him like him". Why is that, I really do not understand - not even as a fan of his, I'm just asking as an objective observer of motorsport
Thanks for your ask anon! I think there's two facets of it. There's the fact that Charles has a lot of expectations that haven't been fulfilled yet due to a variety of reasons and media that may already be skewed away from him doubling down on that, and quite frankly, there's a misogyny aspect due to the composition of his fanbase.
Focusing on the expectations aspect first, as I'm sure you'll probably know better than I will since I've only been watching F1 for a year or so, Charles came into Ferrari with an incredible weight to him already. Not only did he totally crush competition in junior categories but he was the youngest Ferrari driver in the 21st century (later to be usurped by none other than Ollie Bearman at the 2024 Jeddah GP) and he had quite frankly an incredible first season. He would have won Bahrain 2019 if not for the engine issue and he won Monza. This understandably gave Charles's name a gravitas and expectation unlike any non-WDC. I mean, his nickname is literally il predestinato, there is an expectation that Charles will bring the championship home to Ferrari.
Now, unfortunately, that hasn't happened yet. This has been due to a multitude of reasons, but mainly Mattia Binotto's terrible management, the effects of it we're still feeling years later.
An aspect of Mattia's management that people discuss less however, but I'm certain contributes to some groups having a strong dislike of Charles, is Mattia's complete inability to manage a strong driver line up. Ferrari has had an incredible line up, with Charles and Seb for Charles's first two years, and Charles and Carlos for the next three. A lot of the general population who dislike Charles are Seb supporters, feeling as if Seb was pushed out by this young upstart who hasn't even managed to bring the WDC and WCC home as promised. This is entirely due to Mattia losing control of the narrative. DTS encouraged this viewpoint, but media doubled down on it. Mattia also failed to manage each driver's expectations.
Similar is Mattia's signing and then subsequent management of Carlos. My dislike of the Carlos camp is well-documented, but Carlos is by no means a bad driver, in fact I think he's probably in the top six drivers currently on the grid. The issue is, he's not Charles. He doesn't have Charles's raw talent, nor any sort of similar mythos that the tifosi revere about Charles. Carlos on paper, is an excellent n2 to Charles's n1, and I think if Mattia had been honest about that in signing Carlos, I would like him a lot more. Instead, Mattia promised that Charles and Carlos were to be treated as equals, resulting in bizarre strategy calls like Silverstone 2022 where they sacrifice the race of their driver fighting for the WDC in order to gift the other driver a win, or having a championship car in early 2022 only to undevelop it because Carlos complained that he wasn't comfortable. It's frankly bad management, when Checo wasn't comfortable with the RB19 Red Bull didn't change their development direction, because the focus was on getting Max the championship. Ferrari needed Mattia to make a similar decision in 2022, but he instead chose to try and pander to all sides instead of enforcing a potentially difficult decision like a team principal sometimes needs to.
I've said that Sainz media is responsible for much of the traditional media smear campaign against Charles, whether that's them using links with Spanish media, or paying off various outlets, and now I'm putting that down to Mattia not managing Carlos's expectations correctly a couple of years ago, and now relationships have broken down to a point that they're pretty much irreperable, even if Fred is managing everyone's expectations correctly. Mattia's bad management from the car development perspective gives Sainz media an angle to smear Charles as well. 2022 was Charles's championship to lose, and he lost quite badly. It becomes quite easy for journalists to take the line of "oh well, is Charles REALLY a generational talent or is he all hype?", and then compare Charles and Carlos in frankly incomparable situations to make it seem like, at first glance, Carlos comes out on top (key example of this would be Bahrain 2024, where Charles had an insane brake imbalance and still managed to finish p4, but Carlos's camp were quick to point out that Carlos's brakes had cooling issues, which if you know anything about the sport you know that's comparing a mouse to an elephant, but a lot of people chose to ran with Charles and Carlos having the same issue, resulting in people applauding Carlos for a podium in a car that's undergoing normal race stress and decrying Charles for managing to finish P4 in a car that should've been undriveable).
The second aspect moves away from traditional media and to word-of-mouth and online perspective of Charles, although often the first point about Charles not yet living up to his il predestinato name is sometimes used as evidence. Charles's fanbase is female (at least outside of the countries of Italy and Monaco), and disproportionately so compared to other driver fanbases. And look, sure he's a conventionally attractive guy, we're not going to deny objective facts. But those who dislike Charles like to use the fact that he has an active female fanbase, along with the fact that he's conventionally very attractive, in order to mock Charles and his hype. "Leclerc is mid and people only like him because he's hot and women don't understand wheel knowledge" seems to be the current argument of MANY a Charles hater.
Ultimately, it boils down to thinking that his fanbase don't truly understand the sport, because we're majority women and CAN'T be in the sport because we enjoy it we MUST just be here for the hot man. Which is both untrue and fundamentally misogynistic. While Charles himself can't experience misogyny as a man, his fanbase of women certainly can and certainly does. Our voices are trivialised and counted out, and that in turn has an impact on Charles's public image, since people think that a majority of his fans don't have any actual knowledge of the sport (when in my experience, this is perhaps the furthest from the truth).
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ashwhowrites · 6 months
Note
Friends to lovers with Eddie and Reader, Reader loves to watch romcom movies, and she always wonders when is she gonna fall in love, and Eddie has been in love with her for the past two years, but he's afraid that she wouldn't feel the same, so he tells Steve and Steve and Robin (and the gang) try to help Eddie in finding out if Reader likes Eddie too, but she's a bit clueless, so that makes it more difficult, until one night at a party at Steve she confess Eddie that she loves him (she started to fall in love some time ago, but she didn't realized that it was love what she felt for Eddie), and he's surprised and doesn't know what to say, and Reader thinks he doesn't loves her and she goes to her house crying, but Eddie goes to her house and he starts to throw rocks in her window and he tells her that he loves her 🩷
Hi! I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it :) thank you for requesting and your patience! 🩷
Just like in the movies
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Eddie wasn't sure what falling in love would feel like, or if he was capable of it. He didn't know much about love or romance at all. Well, until he met his best friend, Y/N. The girl was obsessed with romance movies. And Eddie was forced to watch them with her. He slept through half of the movies, but the ones he stayed awake for he remembered well. He found himself understanding the movie, and he realized he felt everything for the girl next to him.
He fell in love and he had no idea what to do next.
~~~
Two years later, he was still trying to figure it out. He had no idea how to say it or how to tell her. He couldn't tell if she felt the same. She never talked about boys, but to be fair he never talked about girls. He wanted to tell her, but he didn't want to lose the one person who always stayed with him.
He did one thing he never thought he'd do in his life....he asked Steve for help.
~~~
Steve and Robin's job was to find out how Y/N felt about Eddie and if any feelings were stronger than friendship.
And it turned out to be a lot harder than they thought. She didn't quite understand what they were trying to figure out, just a tad clueless.
"Do you like Eddie?" Steve asked, Robin stood next to him.
"Of course I do, he's my friend." Robin rolled her eyes as Y/N replied. Quick to follow with another question. "Okay, but like more than a friend?"
"Duh! He's my best friend." Y/N said, not understanding what they were asking.
"Okay! But let's say, would you want to date Eddie? Like being in a relationship?" Steve tried but still fell flat.
"I don't think I've ever heard Eddie going on a date or being in a relationship. How would I know if I wanted that if I only knew him as a friend?"
Eddie didn't get any answers that helped him figure her out.
But turns out he didn't need to. And it turns out she was faster than he was at admitting how she felt.
~~~
A few weeks later, Steve threw a birthday party for Robin. All their friends lingered in the living room when Y/N pulled Eddie outside.
Eddie had no idea where any of it was going. She stuttered and rambled. He tried to understand where she was taking the conversation but he was getting lost in the wild action of her hands.
Then right at the very end, she muttered out the words that made Eddie's world stop.
"So all of that made me realize I'm in love with you."
Eddie stared at her and she stared right back. Eddie wasn't sure if his brain tricked her words into saying what he wanted to hear or if she truly confessed. He sat there trying to figure it out, not knowing with each minute he was silent, the more she was prepared to run.
"I..." but before he could continue his thought, she raced to her car. Eddie panicked and ran after her but she was faster than him. Eddie cursed himself in the head for never doing sports. She took off before he reached her car.
He quickly raced inside the house to grab his keys, wishing Robin a happy birthday as he went out the door.
He started his van and drove to her house, praying she wasn't going to hide somewhere where he couldn't find her. When he pulled up and saw her car, he was relieved. He quickly got out of his van and knocked on her door. He knocked for what felt like forever, but nothing.
He huffed and went into her yard, searching for which room was hers through the window. Once he found it, he looked around the yard for rocks. Collecting a few pebbles one by one threw them at her window.
Y/N was confused when she heard small cracks against her window. She sat up and followed the sound.
Eddie Munson was throwing rocks at her window, horribly. Half the rocks hit the window and half smacked the house.
"HEY! STOP!" she screamed, a smile on her face as he jumped.
"YOU WOULDN'T OPEN THE DOOR!" he yelled back. Neither cared that they were screaming in the middle of the night.
"DID YOU TRY THE DOORBELL?" she laughed
Eddie shook his head with an apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY DO IN THE MOVIES."
She rolled her eyes and called him back up to her room, this time going downstairs to open the door.
They settled in her room, and a little bit of silence passed between them before she spoke up.
"So, what are you doing here?" It was a dumb question, she knew why he was here but more silence was killing her.
"I'm sorry for the way I acted back there. I was just so shocked that you felt the same way as me. I've been trying for two years to say how I felt. I wasn't expecting you to beat me to it, or for you to love me back. But I do love you! I love you so much and I'm sorry I've been too chicken to say anything." He confessed, he loved the way it felt like a weight was off of his shoulders. He loved that he wasn't carrying around a big secret anymore.
"You love me too? For two years?" She was surprised. She was shocked he loved her too, but even more shocked that he's been in love with her for the past two years.
"Yeah....I had no idea how to confess it to you. I was really worried I'd scare you off or you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."
"You'd never scare me away, Eddie." She smiled, grabbing his hand as he held it in her lap.
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, already leaning in as she moved closer to him.
"I'm happy it didn't take you an additional two years to ask." She joked, smiling as he flicked her nose.
"Whatever." He chuckled, cupping her jaw as he softly placed his lips on hers.
If someone was narrating this part for them, they'd describe how Eddie's body felt like it was on fire and that they both felt electricity as their lips touched.
But this wasn't a movie, it was reality and Eddie was damn grateful for that.
Tags!
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threelionsgirl · 10 months
Note
hiii i hope you’re okay x idk if your taking any requests at the moment so feel free to ignore this if your aren’t, but if u are could u write something for mason mount where the reader is an actress or model or something and masons had a celebrity crush on her for ages but then he finds out they’re going to meet for the first them at an interview they have to do together! u can decide everything else like if he’s nervous or really flirty when they meet xx
the interview | mason mount
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warnings: none word count: 1527 notes: hi anon, yes the requests are open, it's just been a long time since I've written, and I wasn't sure how to get back, but I'm on vacation so fuck it, feel free to send more requests!!! by the way, I couldn't decide whether to do nervous!mase or flirt!mason then I did both! masterlist | requests are open!
The knock on the door caught Mason's attention. He was in his dressing room waiting to have his makeup done. That day he was going to be on an interview talk show, and he was excited.
"Mason?" was the producer of the show, poking her head into his dressing room. "Is it okay if you share the dressing room with someone else? We had a little incident, it would just be for makeup."
"Sure no problem." He agreed without elaborating. The only information he had received before arriving was that he would only be one of two special guests for the interview that night.
When the door opened again and Y/N walked in, Mason couldn't believe his luck. Mason had had a crush on Y/N for years. He had seen all of her movies, especially those that were part of the Marvel franchise, and had fantasized about meeting her, and now here he was, about to share a dressing room with her for an interview that they would do together.
As soon as Y/N entered the room, Mason's heart skipped a beat. He tried his best to stay calm, but he couldn't help but feel nervous around her.
"Hm, hello?" she smiled, and he tried not to look like an idiot.
"H-h-hi." Shit. Why the hell was he stuttering? It wasn't in his profile to be so nervous in front of a woman, but Y/N's beauty was really otherworldly.
"Sorry to invade your space like this, but they left something rotting in my dressing room, and now it's the biggest stink in there." She laughed, waving her hand in front of her nose, remembering the smell. "I'm Y/N by the way, actress." Mason only realized that he had been drooling for so long, enchanted with Y/N that he barely noticed that she had a hand outstretched toward him.
"I-I know who you are." He faked a cough to try to get that damn stutter to stop, as he squeezed her hand.
"Oh you do?" She raised an amused eyebrow.
"Yeah, I think I've seen all your movies." He was sure he had seen them all.
"Oh, so I have a fan?"
"Yeah, I guess you do." He laughed gracelessly and decided to complete. "I'm Mason."
"You play football, don't you? I was told that's what it was."
"Yeah, I play for Chelsea."
"I'm not very familiar with the sport, but you're one of the best players in the country, aren't you? It must be hard to deal with all that pressure."
"Yeah, it's complicated sometimes, but I love what I do…" Mason had to confess he was in heaven to have Y/N there with him and so interested in what he was saying, but that nervousness didn't seem to want to go away, and he seemed to prefer to look everywhere rather than look at her and do something silly. "Sorry… Do you want something? I swear I didn't finish like all the stock in the fridge."
Y/N laughed lightly noticing his nervousness and moved a few steps closer towards him and touching his shoulder which made Mason shudder.
"No need to get nervous in front of me, Mount, I usually treat my fans very well." She blinked with one of her eyes, and Mason arched his eyebrows.
Wait a minute, was that a flirtation? It had to have been a flirtation by the way Y/N said the last sentence, with a certain malice. But Mason didn't have time to find out because the make-up artist, Margot, entered the trailer, interrupting them.
They didn't have much more time to talk alone because in minutes they were being driven to the studio to start recording the show, but the glances they had exchanged since Y/N's last sentence had not gone unnoticed by Mason.
The interview went well, he and Y/N had already talked about almost everything involving their lives while the host alternated with jokes to lighten the mood. The one this time would be Mason, who would participate in a "Marry, kill or kiss?"
"So Mason, Gal Gadot, Scarlett Johansson and Y/N. Who do you marry, kill or kiss?" The host asked, and Mason looked at the audience. The idea was to make him look dull, but he didn't because he saw an opportunity there. He looked at Y/N who was sitting next to him. She raised an eyebrow at him, really interested in his answer.
"Hm, I think I marry Scarlett, kill Gal and kiss Y/N."
A chorus coming from the audience filled the room and Y/N looked slightly positively surprised.
At intermission, when they returned to the dressing room, Y/N asked the first thing she thought of:
"So, you would kiss me, but not marry me? Why?"
"Because kissing you is one thing I can do now." He winked, confidently, taking Y/N by surprise. She had expected to hear anything but that, but she smiled witlessly, so Mason realized that she had enjoyed it. She wanted him to flirt with her, and that was enough to make him put all nervousness aside. He knew he had to make the most of this opportunity.
Margot appeared to touch up his makeup, and soon they were back on the couch to restart the interview. Y/N felt that the second half was being different, Mason was different with her, he seemed more at ease, more playful, and she couldn't ignore the shivers she felt every time her hand accidentally brushed against some part of her skin.
What she didn't know was that everything Mason did was on purpose.
The interview must have been almost over when a blackout covered the entire studio, leaving almost everything dark except for the lights coming from the cell phone screens.
The director warned them that they were having a problem with the power outage, and the producer turned to the one of those still sitting side by side.
"Mason and Y/N is it okay if you guys hold on for a bit? It's a minor technical problem, and we are already fixing it."
"No problem" Y/N replied, staying a little longer than planned would not be a problem for his schedule.
"With Y/N's company, I can wait all day." He replied simply, and Y/N looked at him. Even in the dark, she could see the wink he directed at her.
"Okay what's this?" She asked, sitting up so that she was facing him. "Stop flirting with me."
"Why? Is it working?" He laughed, getting a little closer.
"You don't seem like the same shy guy from half an hour ago."
"I'm not shy, but I confess that meeting you made me nervous." He said low, just so she could hear. Mason ran his fingers up her arm, making circles on the bare part of her shoulder, and that time Y/N didn't know if she could concentrate on his words and the touch at the same time. "Because I have to admit, I've had a crush on you for a few years now."
"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked, licking her lips. She thought the nervous Mason was adorable, but the flirtatious Mason was thought-provoking and much more interesting. "I have to admit that I think you are very sexy, and I would also kiss you in 'Marry, Kill or Kiss'."
That was all the fuel Mason needed to put all shyness aside and follow Y/N. It was dark enough to sneak back into the trailer without anyone noticing.
He just waited for her to close the door tightly before pulling her around the waist and pinning her to the wall, his body keeping her from moving. He brought his mouth close to hers, trying first to feel her breath, and almost laughed at her anxiety.
In the dark, they kissed passionately, Mason's hands traversing Y/N's body as she gave herself over to the moment. The sound of their quickening breaths was the only thing audible as they crumpled together in the trailer.
The touch of their hands and the pressure of their bodies against each other were a mixture of sensations that left them breathless. They knew they couldn't stay there forever, but they wanted to enjoy every second of it while they could.
"Let me know if you want me to stop." Mason whispered as his hands moved down from her waist to her hips. When he squeezed her ass while distributing kisses on her neck, Y/N found herself unable to ask him to stop.
The return of the light was the only thing that could separate them, reluctantly, knowing that they had to get back to the studio before someone came for them. But the gleam in their eyes showed that the moment they shared would never be forgotten.
"So…" Mason began half-heartedly, but extremely pleased.
"Now you're going to have to give me a lot more than a kiss, Mount." She said before they went back into the studio to wrap up the Talk Show.
When they said their goodbyes, Y/N gave Mason a mischievous smile and told him to keep in touch. Mason left the interview feeling like he was on cloud nine. He knew he had just had the best day of his life and couldn't wait to see what the future held for him with Y/N.
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alright let’s go over the junior year clues we got in the rick perry documentary thing (disclaimer: i’ve definitely missed stuff, but i think i got the big things, feel free to reblog and add with stuff that i missed though)
[at the bottom of this post I've typed out the decipherable words that plan out some combats and NPCs from Rick's screen. it's the most interesting thing but it's super long so it's at the bottom under a cut]
We get a blurry look at some minis. I’m seeing at least the PC’s minis, as well as what looks like Baxter the Gryphon.
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There’s some major shots of this battle. Includes a Baby mini, the Hangvan with some kind of laser canon on top, a stingray-esque monster that is likely Night Yorb (see below), something that looks like maybe an ice elemental or the crystal (see below), and some large bugs and shirtless people. Clearly set in the Red Wastes. Detailed info of the planning for this battle below.
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One of the shots had reference boards in the background. One is clearly for the Hangvan (see earlier screencaps), but the other is unclear. It looks like it includes some sort of tennis or tennis-adjacent sport.
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Confirmation that Mordred Manor is a set piece.
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Finally, one shot showed Rick’s computer screen with some critical info about planning. I’ve put what I’ve been able to decipher below the screencaps. and under a cut, as it’s very long.
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EP. 701 DEFEATING NIGHT YORB CHASE (RED WASTES) Hangvan, Night Yorb is giant flying Manta Ray thing? Rainbow road, being chased by night yorb while trying to throw crystal into portal. Crazy gun on rough [roof] that gorgug made, I can’t get a lock on it. Just need one last final thing to defeat night yorb. Red wastes, chasing the night yorb around, flying bats teleporting onto rough [roof] of van, NPC allies, Balthazar, two other cars they are in contact with, tiefling bakers or sidekicks are reveals Stormchaser twister, trying to get a lock onto it, Night Yorb is escaping the world. Maybe night yorb gets away, why didn [didn’t] you get it? And Balthazar died? Murph invented the Night Yorb. Don’t fuck with the Night Yorb. Exploded out of riz’s chest, needs to be dumb as hell. it’s the jabberwocky, it burbled, hugely terrifying, Horrifying cursed thing. Unending night for two months. Dragon sized, bigger than the Hang Van, 30’ wingspan Stars and moon. While the night yorb flies it is night and not day. Not malevolent force, but everything on earth will die Have giant ghost busters canon, Honey I shrunk the kids cannon Driver, mechanic, gunner, navigator (using SW 5e mechanics) Hang Man - Fabian motorcycle Tether is attached to night yorb, either magic or harpoon Night Yorb could out pace them. Could smash van. Cultist of the night yorb appearing on the road, mad max style ”The night yorb is our god” Red Wastes Cultists: Riding skeleton horses, classic fantasy cultists, Manta ray night yorb masks Sword and Sorcery vibes, MUSCELY, oiled, black leather, rings Shadow of Night Yorb Tether must be reeled in over 4 rounds Success Meter - 4 rounds or it escapes Pop up cultists in the middle of the road 4 maps Straight away, gully bridge crossing, rap popping up, giant portal It’s going to another world but if it gets away thats just as bad Ayada [Ayda?] thing built in. Chekov’s gun. Gun has cool helix of energy that is getting cranked in. Gun is on the back and on the hood is a binding circle that Adaine does. Cultists are making the portal. YORBIES if they catch it, it gets bound into the paint of their van Gun is gorgug’s stuff and circle is adaine 6 cultist perusing them, 4 or 5 at the portal, 1 or 2 back up Single person traps, Vulture with cactus MINIS: Night Yorb - Giant shadowy manta ray, inky black dripping, made of liquid, different underbelly, deep indigo or bone white. Made of shadows, dripping aberration, flat plane, long tail, two weird eyes coming off front on stalks. Second set of PCs TERRAIN: Red Wastes! NOTES: favorite crazy dnd monsters, beholder, [unclear word, bu…ette] Fungal Black light portal battle! Dr. Strange battle set, pseudo pods of elder pod night yorb, day glow run fragments, purple stone castle night yorb temple, floor is octopus made of shadows. Starting mid battle. [blank sections] PROJECTION: Counter here of some kind?
POTENTIAL LOCATIONS Basrar’s icecream shop? Mordred Manor Seacaster Manor [crossed out] Strong Tower Luxury Apartments SAT Prep class [screen cuts off]
EP. 704 DENTENTION [detention] STEALTH CHASE SEQUENCE/ QUIET LIBRARY/ Aguefort chase sequence? Combine sets interrupted by having to make it past a hall monitor Underwater? Books suspended floating, everything is affected by water Don’t wake daddy? Start in Library to get to Aguefort’s office Hallway Classroom Bathroom Lockerroom [blank sections] DYNAMIC ELEMENT: Water
CONCEPTS Dicks! SPIRITUAL GUARDIANS - Full service on minis, summons, etc Psycadelic fungal giant, black light, trippy, beautiful Revisiting old set [screen cuts off]
[fyi everything past this point was very blurry, so I could only decipher pieces here and there]
EP. 706 OUTDOOR CONCERT COACHELLA Music feature? Flaming [?], giant [?] [???] Fig and Gorgug on stage [???] Lighting effects, [???] Floating stage or something [???] Demons? PROJECTION: Lasers?
NPCS/ VILLAINS/ MONSTERS/ ETC. PORTER CLIFFBREAKER is secret servant of nightmare king tactical battlefield combat that [?] 2-3 times larger than PCs LED buried inside him [???] Porter was [???] basketball player [screen cuts off]
[the rest was too blurry to make out anything other than a blank section titled ROLE PLAY/ NEUTRAL BOARD and a section that seems to be for EP. 708 and says EXTRA with some blurry words after it]
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wildrangers · 7 months
Text
Oh Captain, My Captain // Quinn Hughes
Word Count: 3.8K
Summary: Quinn's captaincy finally pushed me to write this story, which I've been thinking about forever but never actually nailed down. I just love neighbor stories. Hope y'all enjoy!
Warnings: resolved angst (shocking, I know), mention of cheating (not Quinn), cursing
You knew that trying to get everything into your apartment in one-go was a bad idea. Now, you were struggling with your suitcases, backpack, and couple of boxes while fighting with your front door key. You blew out a breath, grateful for the coolness of the Vancouver air coming through the hallway windows.
“Can I give you a hand?” you heard a tentative voice ask from down the hall. You glanced over to see a dark-haired boy watching with a worried face.
“I don’t want to trouble you, I’ll figure it out” you responded, embarrassment flooding your system at how ridiculous you must look.
“You’re not bothering me, I offered” he replied making his way to your side. “Now, can I please take this box before you drop it?”
You chuckled at his comment, nodding your assent, “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Y/N, by the way” you said, finally unlocking your front door.
“Quinn. Where do you want me to put this?”
You quickly led him inside, pointing down the hall to your bedroom. He set it down and returned to grab another box. “It’s really okay, I’ve got it from here.”
He paused in the doorway and scanned your frame, taking in what you assumed to be your now tangled hair, smeared makeup, and exhaustion, before shaking his head and grabbing a box. “I would worry about this all night, where does this one go?”
You sighed, finally accepting he wouldn’t be leaving until everything was in your new apartment, “Ummm that one’s the kitchen, I think.”
He nodded and you two fell into easy silence as the rest of your belongings made their way to their assigned rooms. By the end of it, you were annoyed to see that Quinn hadn’t broken a sweat while you felt like a drowned rat.
“How did you even manage to get all this into the elevator?” he asked, gratefully accepting the glass of water you offered him.
“I may have tipped the Uber driver 20 bucks to help me load it up” you admitted and he shook his head laughing quietly. “What?! I made the move alone and didn’t want to leave anything outside.”
“Fair enough. Where are you from?”
“Most recently LA but I figured if I’m up here half the time anyway, may as well try it out fulltime” you shrugged.
“You work in TV?” he questioned. Vancouver was known for having countless shows filming throughout the area at any given time, so it wasn’t a stretch he’d guessed your occupation correctly.
“Yup, I work as a script supervisor. I’m assuming you work in entertainment too?”
He nodded, gulping down the rest of his water before setting the glass back on your counter. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m two doors down on the left if you need anything.”
“Would you want to come over for dinner sometime soon? I want to thank you for helping me.”
“No thanks necessary, seriously.”
You shot him a look like the one he’d given you earlier which made him laugh and raise his hands in surrender, “Dinner sounds great.”
***
“Entertainment my ass” you mumbled to yourself angrily staring at your television screen. You were in-between shoots and were home more often than usual, leading you to mindlessly flip through channels for background noise before tidying up your place.  
Lo and behold, there was Quinn, giving a press conference about how overjoyed he was about becoming the new captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Quinn, who you’d been led to believe worked in the entertainment industry like you did. And while sports were technically part of the entertainment industry, he’d gone out of his way over the last year to ensure you didn’t realize the truth for some reason. Because, once the shock had processed, a quick Google search had provided more information than your friend ever had about his occupation.
You paused trying to process what you were feeling. On one hand, the joy and pride on his face was undeniable and you were happy for him. However, him seemingly misleading you for this long hurt. You sighed in frustration, glancing down at your phone to check the time, as you were expecting Quinn to come over later. As you contemplated what you’d say to him, your mind drifted to different moments you’d shared over the last year.
***
“I can’t believe you unpacked this quickly” Quinn commented, looking around your living room as you finished up in the kitchen.
“I sent my furniture ahead of me and packed minimally” you shrugged. “Most of my stuff is in storage in LA—once I’ve been here awhile, I’ll decide if I want to move everything here or head back.”
“What would make you go back?” he questioned, settling into a seat at the island.
“Mainly my boyfriend, Aaron” you sighed, thinking of your last conversation before your flight.
“He didn’t want to move with you?”
You shrugged, debating how much to share with someone who was basically a stranger. “We weren’t living together in LA so I thought it’d be a bad idea to move in together in an entirely new country where I wasn’t sure I wanted to be long-term anyway.”
He nodded thoughtfully as you set down the food, “This looks amazing, it’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”
“Not much of a cook or just the long hours?”
“Bit of both” he admitted before you both dug into the meal. Conversation flowed easily between you but, more importantly, the silences in-between felt comfortable. You’d always hated when people filled silences with meaningless fluff so you appreciated that he didn’t try to force conversation where it had naturally lulled.
 “Can I be honest with you?” you asked, drying the dishes Quinn had insisted on washing.
“I’d prefer it” he replied, turning to face you, noting the change in your tone.
“I’m worried Aaron and I aren’t going to last” you sighed thoughtfully. “He’d wanted to come with me and everything in me just screamed no at the suggestion. He said he understood but I don’t know how truthful he was.”
“Have you thought about why your gut said no?”
You reflected on his question as you put away the last of the silverware. “I don’t think he’s an overly forthright person. I don’t think he’s a compulsive liar or anything and I haven’t caught him doing anything, but you know when you just have that feeling someone’s hiding something? I have that all the time with him.”
“I’m sorry, that’s a shit way to feel in a relationship” he frowned slightly and you nodded your agreement. “Want to get some ice cream? That usually helps me when I’m trying to ignore my problems.”
***
Since then, dinner and ice cream had become your tradition. Because of your schedules, dinner may be at 11PM but it was refreshing to have a friend where that wasn’t an issue—hell, it was preferred by him sometimes. During that time, you’d fostered what you thought was a close friendship. But now, as you nervously waited for your doorbell to ring, you were desperately trying to figure out how you’d missed this piece of knowledge about him.
You hadn’t cared how he consistently changed the topic whenever you asked about his work. You’d just assumed he didn’t want to think about it off the clock and stopped inquiring. You had never paused to think he was hiding something. You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn’s knock at the door. You took a deep breath before getting up to answer it.
“Y/N, hey! How was your day?”
“Uneventful, how about yours?” you asked, willing him to tell you the truth.
“Good, good” he replied, fidgeting with his hands. “Did you still want to hang tonight?”
You realized you hadn’t let him in the door, instead blocking his way with your frame when you normally dragged him in with a hug.
“I guess that’s up to you, captain” you replied, holding his gaze. The color left his face as he processed your words and took in your stony expression.
“Y/N, I…” he began but couldn’t finish. You nodded to yourself.
“I can assume today is a big day for you so I’m not going to get into just how upset I am. But really, Q? Misleading me? After seeing how much it hurt when Aaron did that to me?”
Guilt crossed his face, “I’m sorry, I just…”
You paused waiting for him to finish a thought but only silence met you. “Good night, Quinn.”
***
Quinn was still in shock moments after you’d gently closed the door in his face. If he was being honest, he deserved much worse. He ran his hands through his hair as he shuffled back to his place. Shit. He hadn’t even thought about how your split from Aaron would make his omissions even worse.
It had happened a couple months after you’d moved in. He’d been waiting for you to grab him on your way out the door for ice cream but your agreed upon time came and went. He’d worriedly made his way to your door after you failed to answer multiple texts and calls.
His stomach dropped when your puffy eyes greeted him. “Oh shit, Quinny, I’m sorry.”
Before he could tell you not to worry about it, more tears fell from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, gently guiding you backwards into your apartment so he could close the door for privacy.
“Aaron and I broke up” you mumbled through your tears and he pulled you into a hug. He rubbed what he hoped were soothing circles on your back as your sniffles filled the room. It killed him to feel your shoulders shaking against his chest.
“Shhh, I’ve got you” he murmured a few times before you quieted against him. He moved a strand of hair out of your eyes when you pulled away from him. “What happened?”
“Well, I guess he resented that I didn’t want him to move here with me. And instead of just telling me that, he decided to start sleeping with someone else. The someone else he’d apparently already slept with fairly early on in our relationship before calling it off with her.”
“Holy shit, Y/N” he sighed, pulling you to him again. “I’m so sorry, what an asshole.”
“No, I should have noticed how much the move upset him or just let him come with me, I mean—”
“Don’t you dare” he said sternly. “You are not responsible for him being dishonest with you. And you were right to follow your gut and do this on your own—imagine learning he’d cheated on you while living together here? Or never finding out? Jesus Christ.”
A long silence filled the space as you processed what he said. “You’re right, this just sucks.”
“Would your favorite ice cream help?”
“I don’t feel up to going out right now, Q.”
“Let me get it for you. It’s nearly December in Vancouver, I think the cone will be okay for a few blocks” he pointed out and was relieved when it earned him a laugh and a nod. “You hang tight and I’ll be back soon.”
***
While you knew Quinn’s lies weren’t close to Aaron’s, it was pouring salt on the wound in a way that made you wildly upset. When Aaron had betrayed you, Quinn had been there to remind you with his presence and support that not all guys were like Aaron. That there were good men left and you shouldn’t settle for some asshole.
But for Quinn to have been hiding something this whole time? It hurt double—once for his deceit and twice for ripping open the Aaron scar. You’d spent most of last night moping but this morning when you awoke, that sadness had blessedly shifted into anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Had he seriously introduced you to his friends while they all knew you were being lied to? They must have known or else someone would have slipped up. And also, what the fuck? What a stupid thing to be lie about.
You were deep in one of these rage spirals when a knock rang out through your apartment. You threw the door open to see a nervous Quinn.
“Can I come in?”
Your only response was to open the door and make your way to the couch. A few seconds later, Quinn was seated across from you, seemingly willing you speak first with his eyes. But you’d be damned if you filled this silence, even if the discomfort between you stung.
“Y/N, I am so sorry.” You met his eyes and could see his sincerity but it wasn’t enough.
“Why would you purposefully mislead me about something so inconsequential?”
“Inconsequential? This is not unimportant.”
“Why would I give a fuck about you playing hockey? I literally work with famous people all the time and couldn’t give a shit!”
“It wasn’t that I thought you’d care, it was that I’d finally met someone in this city who didn’t know who I was before even meeting me.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked at you incredulously. “I know you’re not Canadian but you seriously never noticed how hockey obsessed this city is? How there’s Canucks shit everywhere?”
“I mean, I guess I never really thought about it and I still don’t understand why that’s a good reason to lie to me for the last year.”
“I’m not saying it was a good reason, I know I fucked up, okay?” his voice grew louder which made you raise an eyebrow at him. “Look, if you never want to talk to me again, I get it, okay? But please, just ask Petey or Brock what it’s like meeting people in this city so you can understand where I’m coming from.”
You scoffed, “You really think a good way to apologize and ‘make me understand’ is to remind me how all the mutual friends I met through you knew the entire time and just went along with it? That’s so fucking embarrassing! Everyone in on the joke but me.”
“This is not a joke, Y/N! God, all I wanted to do yesterday was share that moment with you. To have you in the crowd or at least be able to celebrate with you when I got home. And I know it’s my fault I couldn’t do that but fuck, it still sucked. And I didn’t know how to fix it. How do you say to someone ‘Hey I told what I thought was a white lie a year ago but I ended up falling in love with you along the way and now I don’t know how to own up to it?’”
His words hung heavy in the air but you had no idea how to respond. You had never allowed yourself to fully acknowledge that ever since New Year’s, your relationship had slowly been shifting from platonic to something more—because you hadn’t wanted to lose him. Now, you were losing him just as you were realizing he felt the same way. You shook your head before resting your face in your hands.
“Please say something” he begged softly.
“Q, I don’t know what to say. I can acknowledge in the grand scheme of life not being honest about what you do for a living isn’t earth shattering. But developing a relationship with someone over the course of a year, thinking you can trust that person because you know them inside and out, only to learn they were purposefully hiding something from you? Something that would have made absolutely no difference to you anyway? I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Then tell me how to fix it.”
“Yesterday morning, I would have trusted you with my life. Now, I can’t listen to a word you say without thinking you’re lying. How do I know you’re being sincere about wishing you’d shared yesterday with me? About your feelings for me? You’re making me second guess everything when you were the one who helped me keep going after Aaron’s dishonesty.”
“I am not like Aaron.”
“No, Quinn, you’re not. Which is why this feels worse. Can you please just leave? I need time to process everything.”
You were grateful when he obliged and shut the door quietly behind him but it also broke your heart a little to watch him leave so easily.
***
 Your mind kept returning to Quinn’s New Year’s Eve party. You’d been single for a little over a month by then and were slowly starting to feel back to normal. While you enjoyed your time alone together, you were eager to meet Quinn’s friends and know more people in your new city. Petey loved movies so you two had been deep in conversation, really debate, about various films throughout the night. Brock had brought his dogs and you eagerly shared photos and stories of your family dogs back home with him. You hadn’t noticed that every time you asked someone how they knew Quinn, they replied with ‘work’ before quickly moving the conversation along.
What you had noticed was Quinn’s eyes on you all night. His hand on your lower back when he checked in on you throughout the party. How he had stocked up on your favorite snacks and drinks for the occasion. How as midnight approached, he moved closer and closer to you.
Until, as you all screamed the countdown from 10 to the New Year, he’d slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. How his dark blue eyes shone in the TV screen light when he turned to face you as the ball dropped. How he had grinned at you with such joy as he leaned down and placed the most delicate kiss to your cheek before whispering, “Happy New Year, Y/N, thanks for ringing it in with me.”
And you certainly had noticed the butterflies in your stomach at the thoughtful gesture, the sincerity of his words, and the intensity of his gaze as hope bloomed in your chest.
***
Could you stop by?
Quinn’s heart stopped when your message lit up his screen nearly a week after his captaincy announcement.
He’d quickly made his way to your door, following your voice that called him inside when he knocked. He found you in the kitchen, the early morning light hitting your face in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
“Hey” he breathed out, unsure where to stand.
“Hi” you replied, smiling shyly. “I’m glad you could come over.”
“You are?”
“I am” you confirmed chuckling quietly. “I guess I’ll start…I want you to know that it still really hurts that you misled me. I understand that you didn’t do it maliciously but it still felt really shitty to find out about.”
“I know and I’m sorry, if I could do it differently, I would. How can I prove that to you?”
“Well, you can be grateful your friends care so much about you.”
“Wait, what?” he replied, confused.
“Brock texted me the other day. He ended up sending me a screenshot of the messages you’d sent him that morning. It was really sweet” you smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone. You showed him the text thread but he already knew what you were referring to:
Congrats, brother!!!
Thanks, man. Wish you were here to celebrate
Celebrate with Y/N….oh wait, you’re an idiot and can’t, never mind
I know. I really fucked up and don’t know what to do. How do you fix something you built on dishonesty?
You apologize and tell her before she finds out some other way. Did you lie to her about anything else?
Of course not
Then it wasn’t built on lies. Just own up to the small piece that was
“At least one of us has a brain, right?” he joked and smiled when you rolled your eyes at him.
“You have a brain, doofus, you just overthink things until you may as well not have one.”
He felt himself blush at your statement, taken aback by how well you know him.
“So, I knew at least one thing you said was true—you knew you’d fucked up and didn’t know what to do about it. And your final response proves that everything else was as real as it felt at the time. As real as it feels now.”
His eyes rose hopefully at your words. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if you lie to me again, even about what color your underwear is, I will fucking destroy you, got it?”
“Yes, got it, I swear” he replied, tentatively moving towards you. You opened your arms and he gratefully pulled you to his chest, smoothing your hair down and gripping your waist.
He was debating if he had the balls to try and kiss you when you mumbled, “Will you close your eyes?”
“Ummm sure?” he responded, lips quirking into a smile as he did as requested. He heard you retreat to the refrigerator followed by a plate settling on your kitchen island.
“Okay one more second…now open!”
 On the table was a white cake with dark blue, Canucks colored lettering that read ‘Congrats, Captain Quinn! Love, Me’
“I know we couldn’t celebrate when it happened but I figured better late than never?” His eyes shot up at the worried tilt to your voice. He noticed you were fidgeting with your fingers, a dead giveaway you were as nervous as he felt. He walked closer, taking your anxious hands in his own.
“Thank you, this is amazing. I don’t deserve it, or you” he said sincerely.
“Well, that’s not for you to decide, is it?” you smiled and he couldn’t have stopped himself from leaning towards you if he tried.
He cupped your face as his lips tentatively met your own. He was surprised you were as timid as he was, so used to you taking charge. He gripped your hip with his other hand, pulling you flush against him, which drew a breathy sigh from your mouth that opened gloriously for him. Your tongues gently twined together as he felt your hands tangle in his hair. The kiss was slow and sweet but filled with so much promise it made his chest hurt.
He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he admitted.
“Me too” you agreed, pulling his mouth back down to yours. His hands were surer this time as they slipped beneath your shirt to rub your lower back. You matched his confidence with your own, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away. “But I also really want to eat that cake.”
Well, there it is my first Quinn story! I hope y'all enjoyed and I welcome feedback 💕 We are so close to hockey season y'all!!
P.S. Yes, I wrote this as Aaron Rodgers busted his ankle last night, oops, thanks for the name inspo, I guess lol
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polarisbibliotheque · 6 months
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Dante & Vergil with their s/o hunting bloodthirsty mosquitoes (+Nero with Kyrie doing the same)
Pairings: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader; Nero x Kyrie Summary: Oh, summer. Heatwaves, short clothes, ice cream... And mosquitoes. A human hunting down a mosquito is one thing, but a half-demon? Well, those little hellish beings better be ready for it. Author's notes: You're probably thinking yours truly lost all her sanity, and you're probably right. It's the second day of spring here where I live and it's so freaking hot, the only thing I've been able to eat the last few days was ice cream. It's usually hot as hell here in Brazil, but not this time of the year - December/January/February are the most unbelievably hot months in my city. And, of course, the mosquitoes have to rise from hell itself to buzz in your ears while you try to sleep and suck your blood, ginving you terrible rashes in the morning. I killed four of them the past two days and yesterday, I had to enlist my sister to help hunt one of them down. This little fic might have something to do with that incident xD
I had to write something and laugh at all those goofs trying to be functional normal humans. That's it. It's all ridiculous fluff and laughs while melting from too much heat, hope you guys enjoy ^^
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Dante
“Ya know, if ya clap those really fast, you might summon a demon.”
You just looked back at Dante with murder in your eyes.
The red devil stood by the stairs, having his arms crossed and leaning by the guardrail, that characteristic grin spreading across his lips.
You wanted to throw the flip flops in your hands right at his face – maybe that would get rid of that insufferable cocky smile.
Sometimes you understood Vergil in a soul level.
“If said demon decimates the freaking mosquito who’s been testing my sanity for the past hour, I’m all in.” You turned your eyes back to the ceiling, searching for that single little thing that took peace away from you that day.
The shop wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, that you had to admit, but the last couple of days were hotter than the layers of fire in Hell itself – Vergil would argue, but even he realized it wasn’t wise to discuss with you when you were melting faster than an ice cream on asphalt.
The heat, however, brought along the mosquito wave.
Hence why you were on the top of Dante’s desk, barefoot, sporting your peak summer style, flip flops ready to kill. Hearing Dante making fun of that situation wasn’t really aligned to your mood at that moment.
“Eh, already…?” Dante still had the smile plastered on his lips, casually approaching the desk. He was one to talk: given how hot it was, he was wearing only his pants, completely barefoot and shirtless – and even then, you questioned how he could walk around with those heavy, black pants without falling apart. “Thought these little fuckers would take a lot more time to appear.”
“Well, apparently they thought the same and figured a surprise attack would be more efficient.” You just heard his giggle as you kept on looking everywhere near the ceiling, round and round the desk. Dante rested his arms on it, casually looking up to watch you.
He couldn’t deny, it was funny. All that made him smile and relax: it was so mundane, so… Human. To think one day he’d be at his shop with his most beloved being in all dimensions, worrying about heatwaves and nagging mosquitoes; watching as you practically danced around on his desk, hunting mosquitoes with all the might in the world. As if you both didn’t hunt demons for a living.
As if life was just like that… Perfectly mundane.
“You give’em more credit than they deserve, babe.” Dante leaned his head in one of his hands, watching you with dreamy eyes. At the peak of your annoyance, you never thought the son of Sparda would look at you so lovingly – then again, he wasn’t an ordinary man.
“Oh, I don’t think so, hot stuff.” Your answer was mindless, making Dante open a huge, radiant smile, sparkling as much as his eyes. “Those things come directly from the layers of Hell, I’m certain of it.” You finally put your arms down, looking back at Dante and finding him with that unexpected expression. “What…?”
“You called me hot stuff, hot stuff.” He winked back, making you realize your ‘mistake’.
It wasn’t really a mistake. But Dante would definitely become even more insufferable with that.
“I blame the mosquitoes from Hell.” Your answer was ridiculous but sure, making Dante burst into laughs as he circled the table to sit on his big chair.
“That’d be a great name for a metal band. The Mosquitoes From Hell.” He laughed even more, resting his feet on a small spot on the table, making sure it wouldn’t interfere with your hunt.
“There you go. You, Verge and Nero can play together now.” You didn’t have much fun in your voice, going back to searching your nemesis in the air. Dante snorted a laugh, knowing you were joking – even if you were too focused to make it obvious.
“Dressed as vampires, it’d be perfect!”
But you couldn’t remain too serious around Dante for a long time. As soon as he added that, you closed your eyes, resting your wrists on your waist, letting out a sigh along a laugh. Imagining them all dressed as vampires, playing together as mosquitoes from Hell was too much – Dante now had your attention, beating the rogue mosquito you couldn’t find anymore.
You eyed him back, having a half smile on your lips. Dante was relaxed as he could be, his arms on the back of his head, helping him rest as he watched you with all the interest in the world.
“C’mon. I’d be one hell of a vampire!” Once again, he had that smile on his lips – sprinkled with a little more happiness now that you were into it.
“You’d be the sexiest one for sure, Mr. it’s-too-hot-to-wear-shirts.” You pointed back at him with one of the flip flops still in your hand, making Dante smile even more – a little blushed, but that could be because of the heat. “Dante!”
Without thinking twice, he caught your hand and pulled you to him, making you both rock on the chair violently as you tried not to end up on the floor. But Dante was strong and used to a lot more difficult tricks, having you on his lap, both legs secured by one of his hands on his right side. You had to let go of the flip flops, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, as both of you laughed.
“A reckless vampire too!” You finally put some distance between your faces as you were finally settled, finding Dante’s blushed cheeks as he laughed while still looking at you with adoration in his eyes. “Well, well. You got my attention now, cowboy.”
If only Dante knew how much you loved seeing him like that – completely human, vulnerable, having fun, as if none of the heavy burdens from his past weighted on his soul anymore.
“I’m happy, then. I was feeling a little ignored, babe.” He chuckled back, still blushing. Whenever it was hot like that, Dante had a tendency to be as red as an apple – and you didn’t complain. In a certain way, it was cute. As cute as a half-demon son of Sparda could be.
“I’m never ignoring you, babe.” You murmured, brushing some of his stray white hair away from his eyes, giving room to those beautiful skies that always allowed you to see his soul. Dante would always allow you to see him like that. “You better be ready for some undivided attention.”
“Hmmm, I could use a little o’ that…”
You barely waited for Dante to finish his sentence, catching his lips in a slow kiss. Dante rested one of his hands on the back of your neck, after brushing some of your hair back.
It was hot as Hell, yes. But not even that would stop you from loving your red devil.
Only one thing ever could.
mmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEppppPPPPP!
“Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’…!” Dante immediately let go of your lips, having the peak of annoyance in his beautiful blue eyes. “Where’s that little shit?! Did you hear it too?!”
“That’s precisely what I’ve been through for the last hours, my beloved.” You had the most annoyed smile plastered on your lips, eyes closed as if you were trying to maintain yourself calm. “I told you. When you least expect it, that spawn from Hell will meep furiously in your ears, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Oh, there is.” Now Dante put you aside, taking your flip flops and climbing on the desk. “I’m gonna obliterate that lil’ bastard!”
“Now that I’d love to see.” Oh, how tables had turned. There you were, sitting on his big chair, arms crossed, cocky grin in your lips, watching that brick house of a man using his enhanced demonic senses to find the darn mosquito. “Who would’ve known. Good to deal with demonic pests and mundane pests.”
“Oh, look who’s bein’ all funny now!” Dante glanced you again, but he himself couldn’t refrain from laughing. “Guess I’m the full package, huh?”
“That just makes you hotter, if you wanna know.” You had a matter-of-fact tone, leaning back on the chair and resting your feet on the table. “Nothing like a man who can fight and love like Aragorn as well as cook some damn good potatoes and look after the house like Samwise Gamgee.”
“You know what they say, get yourself a man who can do both. Found ya!”
You could swear Dante’s voice had a tinge of his trigger distortion as the red devil finally found his foe flying around his head. Dante tried a few slaps, but the mosquito was too close for him to be able to kill it. Using the flip flops to fan it away from him, you both lost the mosquito for a while, remaining quiet. Dante used all of his senses to finally see it nearing the couch – with a deadly aim, he one-shot his pray with your flip flop, too fast and lethal for the thing to run away.
The mosquito was no more – its remains were glued on the sole of your flip flop in a stain of blood.
“That was so hot.” You were mesmerized and a little bit jealous of his abilities not only to hunt demons but now, to hunt mosquitos as well. Dante really was the whole package.
“I’m startin’ to question your definition of hot, babe.” Dante let out a good laugh, sitting on the edge of the desk, legs dangling by your side.
“Everything you do, basically.” You shrugged, getting up from the chair to be at least almost his size. Standing between his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, ruffling his soft white hair back in order to see his eyes – those eyes you loved so much, so vulnerable and loving towards you. “Thank you so much for saving my desperate human soul, hot stuff.”
“I’m always at your service, pretty eyes.” Dante’s answer was almost a murmur as he leaned to catch your lips with his one more time. “No interruptions this time.”
You laughed between his words and kisses, ready to spend the rest of the night loving him unconditionally.
That is. If you both didn’t hear another approaching MEEP into your ears.
“You gotta be kidding me.” You sighed, throwing your head back.
“Get all the shoes, babe. Those lil’ shits have no idea what they got themselves into.”
Of course, you both had other plans for that night – involving a lot of love, kisses and giggles between you, as time stopped and you could enjoy yourselves, even with that relentless heatwave. The night was spent, though, with you both viciously hunting mosquitoes, keeping scores, making bets between yourselves, drinking beer and eating the leftover cold pizza in the fridge.
It wasn’t what people would consider a perfect evening – but, whenever you were together, things were certainly a lot more entertaining. As you and Dante took refuge in his room, finally getting rid of all the mosquitoes, you lied tiredly in each other’s arms, laughing about your hunt that night, until you fell asleep without a single meep to wake you up.
And that, you would say, was perfect.
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Vergil
“I need to enlist your help for a mission, my love.”
Vergil was immediately serious. It was funny how you could watch him change his demeanor – you once told Dante it was like when Marilyn Monroe put on her persona and suddenly people were aware she was there and Dante never allowed his brother to have a single moment of peace upon knowing that.
But it was true. It took some time, but Vergil slowly allowed his shoulders to rest relaxed whenever you were around. His eyebrows weren’t as harsh, his jaw wasn’t tensed all the time. You could see how his forehead remained smooth, how his long hands rested calmly somewhere instead of constantly gripping some invisible weapon. His breath turned slower and smoother, his focus allowing him to plunge completely into his beloved books instead of remaining always with a steady eye on his surroundings.
Whenever you were around, Vergil was safe – of that, he was sure. He had his moments of slipping up, of having his survival instincts make him suddenly tense up and remain vigilant. But you managed to bring a peace to him he never thought he would experience before – and Vergil always allowed himself to slowly, very slowly, relax again.
When you were serious, though, survival-mode Vergil came back to the surface: shoulders tensing, eyes turning into steely blocks of ice, hands closing in fists, gazing you intently while waiting for anything to suddenly appear so he could kill it with just a glare. It was his famous ‘dark aura’ as you called, and not even Dante had that – it was Vergil’s special power and it could make the bravest of demons run away with just a stare.
“What happened?” Vergil’s voice was cold and low, carrying not only all his worry, but his rage.
“The worst creature from Hell has ascended to test us.” You spoke solemnly but there was something quite not right with your tone. Nevertheless, Vergil was even more weary: he was ready to void-cut your way to Nero’s place so you could be safe while he dealt with whatever it was that decided to haunt you. “There’s a huge mosquito in the bedroom. I can’t work properly and, trust me, we will never get a good night of sleep with that thing buzzing around.”
“A… Mosquito…?” Now Vergil slowly crossed his arms, looking down at you. He still had his shoulders tense, jaw locked and stoic look in his eyes, but you knew those would water down after a while – the most important thing was the ‘dark aura’: as soon as he realized you were both safe and there was nothing to worry too much about, it vanished just like Marylin Monroe did whenever she didn’t want to be recognized.
It was impressive, really.
“Yes. And don’t you dare mock me.” You pointed right at him as soon as it seemed Vergil was ready to scold you for being foolish – something that looked quite similar to when he was about to go in a fight. “You can be my guest and try to sleep with the mosquitoes, I’ll sleep on the couch if I need too. But those things will not rob me of my sanity.”
“Hmmm. It’s been a while I don’t see one…” With those words, Vergil followed you to your shared bedroom, having just come out of his shower into that mess. “It makes sense. I believe they come out when the weather is hot, right…?”
“Oh, c’mon. You have to have these little things in Hell. It’s practically a mini-demon spawn with wings and tiny horns imbued in it to drive you crazy.” As soon as you finished your description, Vergil had to close his eyes and do his best to not snort a quick laugh – something he wasn’t really successful at. “You can’t possibly make me believe those weren’t made by the forces of evil to suck blood and endlessly annoy all living beings.”
“We have worst in Hell.” Vergil’s look at you was still strict, but his silver eyes had a tinge of care. He would never admit out loud – and he almost wouldn’t admit even to himself – but the way you talked, the way you eloquently described things to amuse not only him but yourself as well always seemed adorable to Vergil.
You, in the other hand, eyed him with notes of annoyance while resting your hands on your waist. You were the face of the summer that day, having seriously considered being only in your underwear during a few moments, completely out of not being able to tackle the sudden heatwave. Vergil had his dark pajama pants on, his torso covered by a white sleeveless shirt, completely barefoot and his hair slicked back – still wet from the almost cold shower he just took.
Whenever you questioned his heat resistance – afraid that he would die from the heatwave out of not wanting to show too much of his skin ‘like his stupid brother’ all the time – Vergil would just glare you and answer with ‘I’ve had worse”.
You knew he was talking about Hell. In a way, Vergil was quite different than everyone else because of all the things he got used to or desensitized in Hell – heat was only one of them. Vergil could go days without eating, without sleeping, he could endure a lot of pain and dismiss lethal wounds to keep on fighting, and so on… But his sense of taste was also a lot more sensitive, specially regarding sweet foods, as well as his sense of smell – when it came to delightful scents Vergil could notice them a mile away but he could also feel sick from being overwhelmed after a while; with foul scents, though, he had a higher tolerance, getting used to them after only a few seconds. Soft textures and lullabies could also get him by surprise, making him always wonder if there was something hidden behind those.
You could make a list of things that Vergil reacted differently or had been desensitized after his long time in Hell – and the heatwave from that day was certainly one of the items in your list.
“Well… Where is it?”
“It was on the ceiling. I climbed up on the bed trying to reach it, but it’s too far away for me.” You sighed, looking back at him. “I don’t know where it is now. We’ll have to hunt it.”
“You are aware that climbing furniture is very dangerous, right?” Vergil spoke slowly, in the same rhythm his steps casually walked around the bedroom.
“Oh, yes. I hunt demons for a living, but climbing a bed to kill a mosquito is going to be my downfall.” Having your flip flops already on your hands, you couldn’t refrain from answering him with sarcasm.
“Even Achilles had his blind spots.” And as much as you hated it, you had to recognize when Vergil was right. “It will take too long to find it this way. It’s easier if we allow it to come to us.”
“Hmmm… That’s a very good idea, hadn’t thought of that before.” You stopped by his side, both of you observing the room with smart eyes.
“You once mentioned they are attracted to breathing.” Vergil looked back at you, making you nod in return. With that confirmation, he started breathing heavily in order to attract the mosquito.
“Good idea. I’m going to turn off the lights too, they seem to leave wherever they are in search for another light source.”
Vergil just agreed with his head as you turned off the lights and stopped by his side, both of you breathing heavily, trying to lure your prey out of its hiding spot.
In all his life, after all he had done, all he sacrificed and all the souls he destroyed – including his own – Vergil never thought he would be doing something so… Ordinary. Stupid even. There were you, in the dark, breathing weirdly to attract a simple mosquito in order to give you some peace of mind.
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even if a little bit. If he could wish for something, he would wish for ordinary days with you for the rest of his life. Dealing with broken showers in the bathroom, fixing a leaking sink in the kitchen, having all the lights go out and depend only on candles, sit by your side reading thousands of recipes trying to understand why a pie backfired in the oven… All painfully mundane things, but so human. So heartwarming to the soul.
It was a kind of peace Vergil knew he did not deserve after all his actions – after all the blood he had shed. But it was something for him to hope for; and human hearts always kept hope inside even if it was an unlikely sort of hope, right?
As you turned on the lights once more, you and Vergil remained with your breathing technique – but none of you could see even a wing of the mosquito. After a few seconds, you had to look at each other.
“We look quite ridiculous, don’t we…?” With your question, not even Vergil could keep serious – both of you started laughing, shaking your heads in unison.
“We can always wait and see if it appears again.”
But as soon as Vergil let those words out of his lips, both of you picked up the characteristic buzzing of a mosquito around the room. Turning your heads immediately, you could see how Vergil had his hunting glare on: carefully scanning his surroundings, the mosquito wouldn’t escape the vicious Dark Slayer.
“Over there!” You threw one of your flip flops towards it, missing for just a little bit.
The shoe was followed by a small, bright blue summoned sword – and that one didn’t miss.
“Wow. Who would’ve guessed, summoned swords have domestic purposes as well.”
“They are very useful for a great number of things.” Vergil shook his head, letting out a breathy small laugh. But then, his hunting eyes were back. “Did you hear that…?”
“What…?” You froze in place, glancing around the bedroom, trying to listen to what he had picked up. Vergil took one of his fingers to his lips, signaling for you to listen carefully right after, making you focus even more.
Those things didn’t happen all the time – but they would be as unexpected as a shooting star crossing the sky. All of a sudden, catching you by surprise, Vergil’s hands rested on your hips, his lips planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Ah!” But of course. Even if Vergil was careful and didn’t do things as suddenly – or as aggressively – as his twin brother when it came to surprises, you did get startled, tripping on your own feet as he kissed you. “Verge!”
“Y/n! Be careful!” Vergil tried to hold you as best as he could. Your hands entangled, one of his arms trying to embrace your waist and pull you back to him. He lost his balance, though, tripping alongside you and trying to stop whatever was happening – as long as you didn’t get hurt, it would be alright for him.
As unexpected as his kiss was, you both ended up falling on the bed – which, at least, was a fluffy fall. Until, that is, a loud crack resonated through the room. Vergil still held you tight in his arms, your fingers intertwined as you felt the bed giving in under your weight.
When all went silent, you and Vergil both exchanged looks, still trying to understand what happened.
It didn’t take too much to remember your bed was a little wobbly – because of Vergil’s recurrent nightmares, you had a couple accidents with the Yamato, chipping at the bed and having to fix it until you had time to buy a sturdier one. With the weight of the both of you falling on it, the bed couldn’t take it anymore and cracked in pieces.
“I blame the mosquito.” You whispered silently, making Vergil immediately bury his head on your neck.
You could hear a muffled laugh – not loud, but comfortable, as he would always be around you. Resting one of your hands on his wet hair, you smiled as you felt his shoulders finally relax, his jaw losing the tension as Vergil kissed your neck.
“We will look for a new bed tomorrow morning.” He sighed, still wondering if all of that was one of Mundus’ illusions before he woke up once more in Hell, having his soul broken even further.
If it was, Vergil closed his eyes and wished for it to last a little longer this time.
“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch for a while.” You ran your fingers through his hair, making Vergil lean his weight on his arms in order to look into your eyes. There was nothing in there that could point to Mundus’ tricks – your eyes were filled with adoration and a slight tinge of melancholy, a mixture particular to you that always made him secretly breathless and completely vulnerable. “As long as you’re around, anything works for me.”
Vergil always found something quite interesting when you were around. All his life, he believed there were words for everything – and all could be expressed through prose, through a painting of words into a masterpiece. Upon meeting you, though, he realized some things had no words in any languages he knew that could express what he wanted to say – the only thing he could do was to kiss you back with all the admiration that stirred inside his chest.
Indeed, sleeping on the couch was far from perfect. But having your head safe and sound on his chest while he played with your hair, with you listening to his heartbeat as you always enjoyed to do…Vergil thought not even Heaven could be more perfect than that – and he asked whatever could listen to allow him to live such an ordinary, human life for as long as he could.
Because as long as you were around, anything worked for him.
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Nero
“Hey, Kyrie…? I was thinking maybe we can move those shelves from the bedroom to the…”
If there was a thing Nero used to do quite often, that thing would be already talking without even making sure the other person was listening. Usually while still walking towards them, screaming in the distance, barely paying attention to said person.
He seriously questioned why he and Kyrie decided to clean and solve all the little issues in their house on the hottest day of the year – but then again, it was a sudden heatwave and no one was expecting it. Nevertheless, his white tank top was already drenched in sweat, his pair of jeans definitely too hot for that day and he was doing something he never did in his life: working barefoot.
Having a piece of furniture he was tinkering with in his hands, he approached the living room so he could tell Kyrie his brilliant idea of moving the shelves to the garage – decluttering the bedroom and having more storage where they actually needed. As he looked up, though, Nero most definitely didn’t expect that sight.
Kyrie was wearing the shortest pair of shorts she could find at home – flimsy, delicate, from her pajamas – and a sports bra. That’s it. Her hair was tied in a bun, while she had a spatula on one of her hands, completely barefoot on top of the kitchen counter island. Her skin glistening with sweat, while she viciously looked for something.
Nero didn’t want to blush. He wasn’t going to blush. He pursed his lips and did his best to control all of his feelings – after all, he could control his devil trigger, controlling blushing because of seeing that goddess of a woman right on their kitchen wearing almost nothing and being absolutely gorgeous shouldn’t be harder, right…? Right…?! It shouldn’t. Nero wasn’t…
He was blushing. Like a bell pepper.
“Oh, Nero! I didn’t listen to what you said, I’m sorry…!” Kyrie was a little startled upon seeing him – and she certainly took the blushing as his response to how hot the day was rather than anything else.
“What… Did you know climbing furniture is dangerous?!” After the initial shock, though, Nero’s protective instincts towards his loved ones had to kick in. Approaching the island in a hurry, he had his hands on his waist, but ready to get Kyrie out of there.
“Oh, I do, don’t treat me like a child.” Even though her answer was annoyed, Kyrie dismissed his comment with a sigh and a slight smile: she would never complain about how protective Nero was towards her. She would always appreciate that. “But I’m trying to solve a problem on my own.”
“Well, the only problem I see here is you on top of the counter, beautiful.” Nero rested his hands on the cold stone, slightly considering laying down on it to get rid of the heat. Maybe standing on it wasn’t that bad, but he would never endorse such dangerous behavior on her side. “C’mon. Lemme help you down.”
“Hey! I’m doing some hunting, I won’t climb down now!” Kyrie now had her hands on her waist, finally looking down at Nero and finding his always attentive but loving aquamarine eyes. She could never get angry at those eyes, he definitely was her soft spot. “I’ve been doing this for the past half-hour. It’s ok, Nero.”
“Wait, what? Huntin’? What’s the matter?!” It was like she flipped a switch in Nero. Suddenly, there was the devil hunter, always aware of his surroundings, ready to sucker-punch any clueless demon that appeared in front of him. All of this got amplified with the fact that Kyrie was around and he would be damned if anyone even thought about touching her in his presence.
She had to giggle. It was almost a natural response even. Nero could have all the pose he wanted – he could be the troublesome punk with a dirty mouth and short-tempered behavior all he wanted – but Kyrie could always see the man he was underneath all that. In his aquamarine eyes, Kyrie has ever seen a sweet man, gentle, worried about his friends, loyal and caring, ready to sacrifice everything and anything for his loved ones. The punk attitude could fool everyone else but her.
And Kyrie had to admit, Nero looked as cute as a badass demon hunter could be when she saw everything that was under his short-tempered answers, ready to get into a fight – the love, the care and the immediate instinct to protect at all costs.
He looked up at her, clueless for a few moments. Kyrie would always look like a little angel in Nero’s eyes, with a giggle resembling little silver bells on a golden morning. Her cheeks slightly blushing, her beautiful hair starting to fall over her face, her rose-pink lips so delicate as her warm brown eyes watched him with care.
“It’s nothing like that, silly…” Her voice was always soft, so different than everything else Nero had always heard. Since the beginning, he was always used to being treated harshly or with indifference, but Kyrie was the first one to offer him comfort and love. He always thought falling for her was inevitable, as they were meant to be from the moment their eyes crossed for the first time. “I’m having mosquito problems.”
“Mosquito problems…?” And suddenly, all that wave of adrenaline washed off his body. Nero could be calmer, it wasn’t anything to be horribly worried at. Leaning over the kitchen counter, he smiled up at his little angel. “All that ‘cause of a lil’ mosquito…?”
“Oh, don’t downplay it like that!” Kyrie pretended to be mad, lightly slapping one of his arms with the spatula. As Nero giggled, she started looking around again. “I’ve been on that for the past half-hour. I’ve been trying to catch it but it’s too fast!”
“We can always try some pesticide.” As soon as Nero suggested, Kyrie glanced at him.
“Nero. Last time we tried pesticide, you almost died from the smell. We had to ask Dante to sleep at the shop, remember?” Of course, he didn’t. Nero had probably erased that memory out of his head, but Kyrie would forever be there to remind him: out of the two, he was the most sensitive with strong chemical smells, specially cleaning products and pesticides, given his demonic heritage. Nero would never want to admit it out loud, but it was true.
“Oh… Yeah.” As always, Nero would do his best to change subjects – thanking the heatwave for the first time for serving as a perfect cover for his blushing. “But ya know, killin’ it with a spatula isn’t the best thing in the world. Actually, killin’ it isn’t like you at all.”
“Well, I get rashes every time they bite me. I must be allergic to something.” Kyrie sighed, finally approaching Nero on the counter. He stepped back for a bit and she put the spatula away, sitting in front of him, legs hanging from the counter. “And you were sort of allergic too when we were kids.”
“Ah, yeah, I remember… Got some pretty nasty itches all over my arms.” Nero let out a quick laugh, unconsciously resting his hands on Kyrie’s thighs. She was warmer than usual – not as much as him though – and her skin was soft, slightly damp. As a reflex, he lightly caressed her tights with his thumbs while talking – and Kyrie thanked the heatwave for hiding the real reason she was blushing at that moment. “You’re right, I’ll give ya that. Mosquitoes aren’t allowed in this house.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was a small whisper, Kyrie still trying to control her heartbeat. She wasn’t half-demon like Nero though, and her human heart would always follow her own feelings instead of whatever her mind was trying to control. “Do you think you can help me with it?”
“I can always help you with anything, princess.” His aquamarine eyes sparkled with care as Nero leaned forward to place a very not rushed at all kiss on her angel lips. Kyrie cradled his face with both of her hands, smiling into his lips – Nero always tasted honey-sweet to her, no matter the situation. “Alright, angel, time to deal with your mosquito. Where’s the lil’ bastard?”
“It was flying around the ceiling. I managed to slap it a couple of times but, as you said, spatulas aren’t that efficient.” She let go of him, watching lovingly as Nero got a couple of shoes he had left in the kitchen while cleaning the bedroom floor. “What are you going to do with so many shoes…?”
“Well, I got a trick up my sleeve.” With a wink, Nero’s ice blue trigger claws appeared behind his back like a set of wings, catching one shoe in each of its hands. Kyrie couldn’t stop laughing. “Ya know, demons have their domestic uses, we can be pretty handy at home.”
“That was awful, Nico would love it!” Kyrie couldn’t stop laughing and giggling as Nero climbed on the kitchen counter, armed with two pairs of shoes.
He wasn’t lying: his trigger could be very helpful when doing chores. That was how he always did whatever he needed to do around the house in half of the time: Nero literally had control over another set of hands to help.
As Nero used all his enhanced senses to find the mosquito and start hunting it with four relentless shoes, Kyrie watched him with what one would think it was too much admiration in her eyes for such a trivial thing. Even though it was mundane, it wasn’t trivial to her: nothing was trivial when it came to spending time with someone she loved, especially Nero.
When others would see a half-demon creature, Kyrie would see the human she loved so much. And not only that – they started dating when they were teens, yes, they grew up together and soon that young love matured over time – Kyrie didn’t see her boyfriend, but a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and who would be such a great husband and father.
Nero would deny if she ever told him that, of course. But Kyrie could see how he played with the children, how he scolded them in such a fatherly way when needed, how he always seemed to have so much patience even if he hid it under a short-tempered demeanor. Nero would make the best dad jokes, he would build the best pillow forts, he would stay awake into the night to care for his children when they would get sick… Kyrie could make a list of things Nero would certainly do as a father – and would excel at it.
“C’mon… Where did it… A-ha! Found it! No escape now!”
She was brought up from her thoughts as soon as Nero exclaimed those words, all four pieces of shoes ready to attack. The mosquito had nowhere to go: he threw one shoe, calculated the route the mosquito would fly over, and threw the other three in a row – faster than she could even think about it. The mosquito was caught in the second shoe, but, if that hadn’t happened, it would had found certain death in the other shoes.
“Job done, princess! Your nights will be peaceful and mosquito-less again!” Nero’s trigger hands disappeared as he bowed to Kyrie – who just laughed and applauded as he did so.
“Thank you so much, brave knight!” She had to joke around. Nero had this thing of calling her princess ever since they were teens – and he never knew how much her heart jumped inside of her chest every time he did that. To counter it and be able to hide how much she loved him in Fortuna, Kyrie would always call him something like that back as a joke, so the elders would think they were just playing. It sort of became their thing after a while – and she quite enjoyed it. “I think it’s my turn to repay you.”
“Eh, no need…” With a sigh, Nero sat by Kyrie’s side on the counter, legs dangling from it as well. He was a lot taller than her, but not even his feet couldn’t reach the floor from where they were sitting. “I’ll do it a thousand times if I have to.”
Looking at her, Nero allowed a caring smile to fill not only his lips but his eyes as well. While so many people saw only fire and rage, Kyrie had the privilege of seeing love and vulnerability inside that aquamarine sea.
Placing one of her hands on his cheek, Kyrie pulled Nero for a kiss – soft, long and calm. Nero was taken aback for a few seconds before melting into it, placing his hands on her hips and finding her soft skin. It seemed like a bolt of lightning went up their spines as Nero caressed her sides and ran his hand on her silky, slightly damp back.
“Oh, what were you saying about the bedroom before…?” Her question was a whisper as Kyrie parted the kiss – both of them blushing and vaguely breathless.
“Nothin’ that matters. The shelves can wait.” Nero dismissed it quickly, pulling her back to a kiss – both of them laughing between each other’s lips.
The house was a mess as they were cleaning everything: the kitchen and the bedroom seemed like they were torn apart, with clothes and shoes lying everywhere, books finding temporary solace somewhere else, and everything looking like it was turned upside down.
Spending time with each other, though, was a bigger priority. They would order some pizza and sleep on the couch under a light bedsheet so they wouldn’t get caught by surprise in case Nico decided to visit all of a sudden in the morning – but they wouldn’t pass the opportunity of loving each other.
As the night settled, they rested on the couch, Nero cradling Kyrie safely in his arms, as they talked the night away, always blushing from being so intimate with each other – that would never change, no matter how many years had gone by.
While watching Kyrie giggling from one of his stupid jokes, looking like an angel resting her head on his chest, Nero blushed even more while laughing alongside her and playing with her hair. He would always be a fool for her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get a glass of cold water for you?” Kyrie whispered into the night, the humming of the fan they found in the back of the garage making the weather a little bit more bearable. “You look like a tomato, dear.”
“Oh, it’s ok. It’s chillier now, my temperature will go down soon.” Nero smiled back at her, wondering how Kyrie could be so radiant. No supernatural creature could top that. “No need to worry, angel. Thank you.”
Obviously, he would never say he was blushing because of her - having only one thing in his mind… Thank whatever forces that be for that heatwave.
280 notes · View notes
sirfrogsworth · 4 months
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Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo
So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.
But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.
After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.
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It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.
I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.
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I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.
Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.
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So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.
So... I backed up... into a pole.
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I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.
I finally find parking and head inside.
The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.
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Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.
I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.
"You forgot your card!"
Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.
The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.
I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.
I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.
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I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.
I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.
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The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.
Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?
Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...
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"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"
We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.
So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.
Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.
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As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.
I still kept trying.
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That could be a moon I guess.
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Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.
Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.
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ENHANCE!
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A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.
I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.
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And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.
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And that was my day after the day.
Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.
I slept all night.
I slept most of the day.
I still want to sleep.
Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.
But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.
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157 notes · View notes
daisyvisions · 6 months
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Demonstration - (l.sy)
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‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Lifeguard!Sangyeon x afab!reader
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: You do almost everything to get your hot lifeguard's attention. But what happens when he also shows interest?
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.9K
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), public sex (but no one’s around), mutual pining, dry humping, fingering, handjob, groping, allusions to sex at the end, pet name (sweetheart), mentions of drowning, a bad representation of CPR because I had to cut it short lol. Proofread once.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: It’s been a while since I've done a Sangyeon fic, and it just so happens my brain has been plagued by lifeguard sangyeon for a while so… here 🤪 (might have a part 2! but more on the smutty scene because why the fuck not?)
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @winterchimez
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You hated going to the beach.
The blazing heat of the sun scorching your skin, annoying children chasing each other around, the sand sneaking its way into your bathing suit uncomfortably, the list goes on.
But here you were, lying down on a beach towel under the shade of your umbrella, sporting the cutest two-piece bikini you’d never imagine wearing in your whole existence of living.
So, if you hated the beach so much… Why were you here again?
Oh yes! Trying to catch the attention of the hot lifeguard that saved your life the other week.
Was it desperate? Absolutely.
Did you really go out of your way to get the attention of a man? Of course!
Did you want to fuck him every time he’d glanced your way? Hell yeah!
Why wouldn’t you especially when the lifeguard in question made you melt into a puddle more than the radiating sun’s heat?
It was a fairly sunny day that time you went to the beach with your friend. The sun wasn’t too hot but it wasn’t too dark to go out either. You haven’t been out of the house in a while, plus it was starting to get stuffy inside so you thought a good breath of fresh air would do you good.
Your friend was busy playing beach volleyball with a bunch of other strangers as you waded in the somewhat shallow end of the ocean, trying to cool off and enjoy the calm waves moving you.
Because it had been years since you’ve gone to the beach, you didn’t anticipate how strong even the smallest of waves could be. So when the next wave came crashing into you as your back was turned, you immediately lost your balance.
You didn’t remember much but all you could remember was shouting for help and the next thing you know you feel someone performing CPR on you and immediately coughing out the ocean water.
“Hey, are you alright?” The deep voice asks you with concern.
As soon as you look at the person who saved your life, you’re too stunned to speak. All you could think about was how tanned and muscled this guy was.
Your cheeks start to blush when you get a better look at this guy’s face too. He looked like a Michelangelo sculpture that was brought to life. His strong jaw, his manly hands, and that nose…
Oh he was so hot.
“I-uh…” you couldn't find the words in you as his brown orbs looked deep into yours.
“It’s okay, I got you.” He reassures you as his hand rests on your lower back. “I’m Sangyeon.” He introduces himself. You give him your name and he replies with a gentle smile.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl” he replies. Your cheeks redden even more from the compliment.
You were so fucked after this.
And ever since he saved you that day, you kept on trying to remember the way his kissable lips felt on yours, the way he held you and made sure you were okay until you left the beach, and how his gaze on you made your knees buckle in place.
You wanted him. And you did everything you could to get his attention.
Asking him for help in carrying your stuff, teaching you how to surf, and “bumping” into him at the juice bar. Even going as far as asking for help to rub sunblock on your back. You remember the way you felt a pool of heat forming below as his hands delicately rubbed the sunblock on your exposed back, his hands lingering on your waist a little longer than normal, and his deep voice near your ear when he asked “Is this good?”
God you were so desperate.
But who wouldn’t be? Especially when you felt this spark between you aside from the raging physical attraction you had for him. You soon found out how good of a person he was from all the conversations you had with each other. How pure and genuine his soul was. He wasn’t just some hot lifeguard, but a man who genuinely enjoys helping others. You were starting to fall for him.
As soon as you saw him setting up his stuff at the lifeguard post, you immediately got up and adjusted your bikini and fixed your hair as you walked towards him. Your movements suddenly stop when you see another woman talking to him, his co-worker.
Her hand lingering on his bicep too long, the way he smiled at her, how she looked effortlessly beautiful especially with the wind blowing her hair. The way they hugged before she left to leave before swapping duties. Your insecurities quickly flooding inside you as you observed the two.
Who were you kidding? Sangyeon would never go for someone like you. Someone has handsome and genuine as he is? Not a chance.
You turned your heel and made your way back to your spot on the beach, immediately covering yourself with a large shirt and packing away your things. You didn't want to break down with all these strangers around and be reminded of what you just saw.
Sangyeon was about to climb up to his post when he saw you. As he was about to greet you and ask you how you were, you rushed past him, not paying attention to him in any sort of way. His happy demeanor dropped in seconds. You always say hello to him. It’s the one thing he always looks forward to every time you’re at the beach.
Did someone bother you while he was gone? He always made sure no creeps were walking towards you. Or did he do something to upset you yesterday? He was more worried about the latter.
Of course, he didn't want to bother you in that moment so he decided to just let you be and maybe ask how you are when he sees you again tomorrow.
Little did he know you wouldn’t be returning for a long while.
It had been a couple of weeks since you’ve made an appearance at the beach. Insecurities and anxieties getting the better of you that you just wanted to dig a hole and stay there til the big wave of embarrassment you felt remembering all the things you did to get Sangyeon’s attention washed away.
There were too many thoughts running on your mind tonight for some reason, so you decided to walk to the small beach spot near your house. This secluded spot was on the opposite end of the more populated area. You found yourself walking here at night often whenever you had too many troubling thoughts.
The sounds of crashing waves against the rocks were so calming. No person in sight to be found. The slight chill in the wind’s breeze blowing against your skin. How come you never go to this side of the beach during the day time?
You walked until you found a good spot to spread out your towel, opening your phone to play some relaxing music before lying down and looking up at the stars above. Just when you were about to close your eyes and enjoy the stillness of the moment, a deep voice startles you.
“I was starting to wonder if you got sick of me already.” You slightly gasp from the initial shock, but your cheeks start to blush as soon as you get up to see who it was.
“Sangyeon! Oh I- I didn’t know you’d be here” you nervously fiddle with your fingers, trying to avoid his gaze. Of all people that had to sneak up on you tonight, it just had to be him.
“Mind if I sit?” He takes a step forward, his feet at the edge of your towel.
“Uh- yeah. Sure..” You reply. You scoot over to make space before he sits beside you.
You instantly feel the warmth radiating from his body as his thigh nudges yours. The scent of his alluring cologne making its way to your lungs as you breathe in the ocean air. Thank god it was nighttime, otherwise the flaring blush on your cheeks and the redness of your ears would give away the effect he had on you.
There was an awkward silence between you two. What would you even say to him? You've never talked to him outside of the times you tried to get his attention. Before you opened your mouth to attempt to make conversation, he beat you to it.
“So… How are things? I haven’t seen you in a while.” he slightly turns his body to face you.
“Good.. Everything’s good..” You awkwardly reply. You wanted to cringe at the way you answered him, it’s small talk at its finest. He hums in response.
“You know… it’s not the same being on duty.” He suddenly blurts out.
“Oh? How come?” Your eyebrows slightly knit in confusion.
“Because I don’t get to talk to my favorite girl anymore” He sighs.
“Did she move away or something?” you ask, your heart slightly stinging at his words.
“No, uh-” He chuckles in between, finding your denseness very adorable. “She just ran off when I was about to go talk to her. I was actually gonna ask her out and everything too. But thank god I found her here on this side of the beach.” He looks straight into your eyes.
“Oh… OH! Me?” Your eyes widen. You couldn't believe what he just said. He called you his favorite girl too.
“Yes you!” He laughs and you smile with him. Suddenly his fingers intertwine with yours, slightly playing with them. He subtly moves his body closer to yours.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he brushes a loose hair behind your ear. His eyes quickly glance at your lips, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter and twirl.
“Ever since I saved you that day, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He admitted. “And every time since then I just couldn’t stay away…”
Sangyeon moves his fingers to your chin, slightly tilting your head to get a better look at you. He leans forward to try to kiss you, but you suddenly panic and stop him before he could even close the small gap between your lips and his.
“Actually! I wanted to ask you about that-”
“About what sweetheart?” His eyebrows slightly raise as he tilts his head.
“CPR. Yeah that. I was wondering like if you could teach me how? You know so that I can be prepared in case and save someone’s life just like you.” You ramble.
Sangyeon takes a moment to respond, the gears in his head turning before mischievously smirking at you.
“Sure, I’ll teach you now!” He replies. He shifts his body to a kneeling position.
“N-now?” You ask, wondering where this conversation is going.
“Yeah! C’mon. Lie down for me.” His hand slowly pressing on your shoulder as you lower yourself until your back hits the ground.
“Okay first thing you have to do is make sure that the victim lying down facing up, so you’ve got that covered.” He smiles at you, his hand resting on top of your stomach.
“Next, you have to check for any signs of breathing. If there is none, call for 911 and start placing both your hands on their chest, on top of the other.”
As soon as Sangyeon says this his hand slowly moves up to your chest, intentionally snaking them in-between your breasts making your breath hitch. You try to ignore the pooling heat forming between your legs.
“After, you’re gonna do thirty chest compressions, meaning pumping your hands on their chest.” Sangyeon gestures the motion. He slowly lowers his head, his face dangerously close to yours.
“Then tilt their head a bit, pinch their nose-” His face inching closer to yours, you can feel his breath fanning lightly on your lips. His lips lightly graze yours, making you gasp at how soft they feel.
“And perform mouth to mouth-”
“Sangyeon, I-” He smashes his lips against yours, making you whimper in desperation. This is so not happening right now. This must be dream.
Sangyeon kisses you like a man deprived of touch. He takes every chance he gets to remember the way your lips move with his perfectly. He shifts his position to hover above you. His hands grazing your waist before slipping them under your shirt, groaning in pleasure the moment his palms meet your naked chest.
You thank the universe for not wearing a bra tonight as his fingers flick and pinch your perked nipples. His lips never leave yours, desperately snaking his tongue inside your mouth as soon as your lips slightly part.
You place your hands on his strong chest, slightly pushing him away to catch your breath for a moment from all the kissing. Sangyeon’s lips start kissing your jaw and making its way to the most sensitive part of your neck.
“You don’t know how long I've been wanting this…” He mumbles. You let out a breathy moan as he rolls his hips into you, his hard length pressing rubbing against your throbbing core.
“Sangyeon-” you moan out his name as he grabs your hands and places them over your head. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he continues to grind his hips. He holds your wrists with one hand as the other slips under your shorts, your hips jolt as he starts to skillfully rub your sensitive bud.
“So wet for me sweetheart. This because of me?” He whispers in your ear.
“Y-yes. Always for you…” You whine.
“I feel dirty every time I stare at you in your cute little bathing suits. You know that? Always getting me hard during my shift sweetheart.” He groans.
“Fuck- that time you asked me to rub sunscreen on your back, had to stop myself from pressing my cock against your ass.” He smirks before kissing your neck again, his fingers quickening the pace before inserting them in your wet entrance.
You let out a loud moan feeling his thick fingers fill you up.
“That’s it sweetheart, let those pretty sounds out. Been dying to know how you sound like-” He pumps his fingers into you faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy ringing in your ear. He moans into your mouth as he kisses you again, rutting himself against your inner thigh.
The smell of his cologne lingering in your nose, the sounds of the waves crashing around you, the vibrations of his groans electrifying you within, his strong hands holding you down, you brain was starting to get foggy for the overwhelming sensations. The coil inside your abdomen tightening slowly.
“S-sangyeon- wanna touch you-” You mumble against his lips.
“Please do-” He lets go of your wrists. You hastily untie the drawstring of his shorts and slip your hand under the waistband. Sangyeon lets out a pornographic moan as soon as your soft hand grabs his cock. His oozing precum making it easy for you to fist his length up and down in a fast pace.
He curls his fingers inside, hitting that delicious spot inside you that you could never reach on your own. You continue to fist his cock vigorously, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths.
“I-I’m gonna-” You whine.
“That’s it. Cum on my fingers sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He adds a third finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. Your orgasm hits you right away after a few pumps of his fingers inside you.
Your brain fogs up for a moment as you catch your breath before coming back to earth. When you open your eyes to see Sangyeon you see him looking back at you sucking on his fingers as he savors the taste of you.
“Taste sweeter than I imagined.” He releases his fingers from his mouth with a pop. The sight almost making you wet again.
Sangyeon lends his hand to help you sit up from your position, your chest bumping into his in the process. Your eyes widen when you suddenly realize Sangyeon didn’t reach his high with you.
“Oh- you didn’t get to-”
“Don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of it myself. Wanted to make you feel good.” He softly smiled while caressing your cheek. He was more interested in you reaching your high above anything else to be honest.
“But I want to…” You shyly look away as you admit this to him. “Been wanting to show how thankful I was for you saving my life…” You cheeks blush.
Sangyeon lets out a chuckle, his fingers holding your chin up to look at him.
“Is that so?” He smirks.
“Y-yeah.”
“If you insist.” He leans closer to your face. “As long as I get to come over your place and…” His other hand sliding between your legs, squeezing your inner thigh in the process.
“… You wear that cute little bikini you were wearing the last time I saw you. Deal?”
You smile at his suggestion as you graze your fingers delicately over his clothed erection, making him lightly gasp at your touch.
“Deal.”
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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congrats on 2k followers friend!!!! well deserved and well earned via talent and hard work 🎉
I've been having a lot of perv!Eddie thoughts, especially since I read your diner post... But I specifically can't stop thinking about Reader/you and your good friend Eddie falling asleep during a movie night. He wakes up before you and sees that you've been exposed in some way during your shifting in the night (shorts rode up to show ass/crotch, shirt showing off a tit, etc). and this little perv, he sees it and all he can think is must bite, must mark, must squeeze. And Eddie is not great at impulse control, as we know.
anyway, love your work and can't wait to see what amazing things you have in store for us with your big, beautiful brain!!
MYOOOOOO MY LOVE 💚
I hope I did your req justice xoxoxo
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), m! masturbation, perv!Eddie, somno if you squint
WC: 1.1k
--
Eddie’s movie nights with you always had a good rhythm: eat popcorn, watch something that anyone else would give you two shit for (this week’s pick was Grease 2 and was surprisingly Eddie’s choice), and stay up late catching each other up about the week. You two hadn’t had as much time to spend together since you went to college, leaving Eddie stuck at Hawkins High for his third go-around at senior year, but Saturday nights were your time together. And Eddie had you all to himself.
Well, kind of.
In order to actually have you all to himself, he’d need to stop acting like a goddamn pussy (Jeff’s words, not his) and ask you out. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it, but whenever he got close, he’d chicken out. He’d always get lost in your eyes, or focus too hard on your lips, and his brain would practically short-circuit. Instead, he tries to convince himself that it’s better this way; that he’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.
He tries when you star in all of his wet dreams.
He tries when he takes a shower and pictures soap suds sliding over the curve of your breasts.
He tries when all the women in his Playboys or in the Pay-Per-View movies he watches start to pale in comparison to you.
And he’s trying really, really hard right now, when he wakes up to see the movie’s credits rolling, and you still sound asleep, with the strap of your tank top sliding down your shoulder, leaving your chest exposed.
The morally sound thing to do would be to wake you up, or at least attempt to pull your strap back in place. Just bring it to where it should be; let his finger graze over your soft, warm skin. He can’t help but wonder what else is soft and warm.
“Shit,” he murmurs, wincing as his erection becomes all-too prominent under his gray sweatpants. He can’t risk you waking up and seeing him sporting a hard-on, especially once you realize that he got that way from your wardrobe malfunction.
He starts to get up to go to the bathroom to relieve himself, all-too grateful that Wayne is at work, but you shift in your sleep and rest your legs on top of his thighs. A tiny content sigh slips from your lips, and that’s all Eddie needs to take matters into his own hands. Literally.
The way his hand snakes into his plaid boxer shorts is almost instinctual. All he can think about is running his tongue over your nipples until they peak, grabbing the plush of your thighs as he pulls you closer to his lap, feeling your growing wetness as you grind against him. Begging for him to make you feel good.
Eddie uses the beading pre-cum at his tip to lubricate his stiff cock, feebly trying to get himself off without waking you. He watches carefully as your legs gently rock back and forth with each slight buck of his hips. Jesus, what he would give to have those legs resting on his shoulders while he disappears inside you, inch by inch…
“Eds?” you whisper, voice still groggy with sleep. “Was’ going on?”
He freezes on the spot, hand still on his dick. “N-Nothin’. Just, um, tryin’ to find the remote.”
“But you were saying my name,” you frown, turning over to better face him. It’s then that you see your exposed breast, making you giggle. “Were you trying to wake me up so I’d fix my shirt?”
Eddie flushes pink, unsure how to proceed. Does he pretend like he didn’t even notice? But how could he not; you’re right there. Does he flat-out lie and say that he was trying to get you to adjust your top? He certainly wasn’t going to tell you the truth–that he did, in fact, see your tits and he was, in fact, jerking off to them.
“I, um, no–didn’t see–”
“Too busy flogging your log to realize that my tits were out?” His gaze drops to where yours is–the crotch of his pants, where his fingers remain wrapped around his length. “Don’t be embarrassed,” you coo, pushing yourself up and sucking a bruise into his neck. “If I didn’t want you to see them, I would’ve worn a bra.” You climb onto his lap, taking his hand out of his own pants and bringing it down yours. His middle finger presses against your clit, and you release a moan of pleasure. “Touch me, Eddie. Feel how wet I am for you already.”
So wet, he thinks. Almost too wet…
Fuck.
Eddie wakes with a startle, groaning as he feels the mess pooling in his boxers. He’s going to have to start chugging coffee to stay awake during movie nights if he can’t keep himself under control.
He sits up, rubbing his eyes, but he can’t find you. Maybe you left. Oh, God, what if you woke up before him, saw him have a wet dream, and got so freaked out that you just bolted? How would he face you again?
“Oh, shit, you’re up,” you say from the bathroom doorway. There’s a guilty look on your face that Eddie just can’t place. “I guess we fell asleep.”
“Y-Yeah,” Eddie stammers, throwing a blanket over his lower half and forcing a laugh. “We’ll have to watch Michelle Pfeiffer dance around another time.”
“Is that what got you all worked up?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything…nothing wrong with a celebrity crush. Everyone, um, everyone has one,” you finish lamely.
Eddie clears his throat. “Who’s yours?”
“My celebrity crush?”
“Mhm.”
Now it’s your turn to feel a wave of embarrassment crash over you. And maybe it’s because you’re still kind of tired, and maybe it’s because he really was moaning your name in his sleep, but you say, “Just this local rockstar. You might have heard of him; he’s the lead singer and guitarist of a band called Corroded Coffin?” 
Eddie swallows thickly, processing your confession. “You have a crush on me?” There’s no way; this must be another dream. He pinches the inside of his arm and feels a small sting of pain. No, this is real. 
You nod. “Is…is that okay?” You look up at him through wide, wondering eyes.
“Fuck yeah, it’s okay. More than okay. I’ve wanted you since…forever, Sweetheart.”
You offer a sly smile as you take away the blanket to straddle his waist. You point to the wet spot on his crotch. “Think you can get it up again? For me?”
“For you? Of course.”
--
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hotchfiles · 22 days
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↪ day five. fbi — #marchhotchness
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What are some of your headcanons for his FBI career, do you have any?
these aren't headcanons mostly, but i spent a lot of time trying to make sense of hotch's backstory because it's a bit of a mess. criminal minds writers aren't serious people and they just be saying things either it fits or not to the timeline they themselves created. i hate them. i hope they spend their whole lives stepping on legos. anyway.
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i've talked about this already, but i don't think aaron was a gifted sports kid, i think he was good enough, which means i also think physically he was just that, good enough. being in a physically challenging career wasn't his main plan anyway.
so, aside from fights during his school years and lifting a bit of weight and doing a bit of cardio, before the academy, he wasn't the most prepared guy for the job.
but he's goddamn determined, so from the moment he applied he started working out, we've seen him in action, and that's him as a middle aged man, so he went from this geeky bookworm boy to someone who worked out every single day so he wouldn't be a liability on the field.
as for gun handling, i think that was never difficult to him, his father probably had guns at home and taught him how to shoot and properly handle them. as a prosecutor i'm sure he already had guns in his home for protection.
his efforts in the academy got him a spot in the crisis negotiation unit, first as a swat operator, he's a prolific sniper. then as a profiler as his intentions were always set to be the one who finds and catches the criminals, as we know, the bau is an elite unit, so before being promoted and transferred, he want from the cnu to the seattle field office as a profiler and worked two years there.
these experiences gave him enough expertise to teach crisis negotiation, and then he was transferred to the bau as profiler. in 1998 he was promoted to lead profiler, his first case was the reaper, as we already know.
we don't have a fucking clue of when, but he was also communications director for a time, i like to believe it was somewhere between 2002-2005.
in 2005 he was promoted as unit chief in gideon's absence, but kept this title even when gideon came back.
aaron is focused, he is determined and he is honest. that should be good, but actually that makes him target of many people who see his drive as a threat to their careers, so he is used to having to deal with higher ups trying to step on his toes and swipe the rug out off his feet.
if the godforsaken producers of this show weren't a fucking JOKE (jeff davis when i fucking GET YOU) i'm sure there would have been more conflicts of that sort, because the position for fbi director is not out of reach for him, if he wanted that, he could definitely be up for the task easily.
but, i like to think he wouldn't want it. it's better pay, better hours and he would be able to make important decisions, but he would be out of the field and out of the bau, i don't think he would be able to do it. he loves the bau, being a profiler, catching serial killers, way too much. it's his passion and his purgatory.
and to quote him: "why would i ever leave the bau?"
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wintrwinchestr · 6 months
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bad girl (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
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summary: you broke one of joel's rules, and he punishes you for it. but he can never stay disappointed with you for long, not when all you wanna do is be his good girl.
warnings: 18+ (inappropriate language & allusion to smut), big time daddy kink!!! (bordering on ddlg?), pet names (babygirl, lil' girl, sweetheart, darlin,' sugar, honey), punishment, spanking (not very descriptive), lil bit of subspace, protective daddy!joel, no physical description of reader, lil bit of humiliation, praise, please let me know if i missed anything or should correct something!!
word count: 1.6k
a/n: hi!! this is the first fic i've written in like 5 or 6 years, and definitely the first creative writing i've done in a long time. i also don't really know how to write smut but i'm hoping to learn how and get more confidence to try more writing!! (nice/polite) comments welcome, thank you for reading!!
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Crouching behind a large, moss-covered tree stump, you curiously observed the doe and two fawns grazing just a couple of yards in front of you. You tried to keep your breathing quiet and shallow so as not to startle them, a task that proved difficult with the way your heart was nervously pounding. You knew you weren’t allowed outside of Jackson’s walls without Joel, but you had overheard some of the others talking about a family of deer they had seen on the woods’ perimeter as they returned from their patrol. You were eager to see them for yourself, even if it meant breaking one of Joel’s rules.
The sharp sound of a branch snapping behind you caused the creatures to swiftly bound away, and you quickly turned around with a startled gasp.
You almost screamed, thinking you would turn your head to see an Infected approaching you. Instead, your stomach dropped at the sight of Joel, sporting a disappointed scowl. Your heartrate quickened even further, knowing you were caught disobeying him. You suddenly felt like one of the scared little fawns as you were still crouched below his towering form.
“The hell do you think you’re doin’ out here, sweetheart?” He asked in a low tone, slowly approaching you while staring daggers into your nervous gaze.
“I… I was just… just wanted to see the…” you tried to explain, looking around and gesturing to where the deer had been standing just a few seconds ago.
“Up,” he ordered, making a motion with his pointer finger for you to stand up. You obeyed immediately, knowing better than to not follow his commands at this point. “Turn around, and walk until I tell you to stop. Hold your hands behind your back.” His voice sounded dark, rumbling from deep in his chest.
You turned your back to him, and let out another little gasp when he came up behind you and gripped the back of your neck, your cue to start walking.
After several minutes of trudging deeper into the damp forest with your hands held obediently behind your back and your head hung low, Joel ordered you to stop once you had reached a small clearing. He released his hand from its firm grip at the base of your skull and spun you around to face him.
“On your knees f’ me, babygirl. Come on now...”
You followed his order without hesitation and knelt at his feet, the cool forest floor providing some relief to your flushed skin. 
Unable to bring yourself to look at him on your own, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilted your head, forcing your gaze upward.
“You look at me when I’m speakin’ t’ you,” he demanded, giving your chin a little shake. “Y’ know why I came and found you, why I marched you all the way out here? Hm? Don’t you think about lyin’ to me, lil’ girl…”
You struggled to nod your head against his tight grip, your eyes beginning to water. You started to reach your hands toward his crotch in a desperate attempt to please him and shift the focus away from your disobedience.
“Nuh uh, you keep those hands behind your fuckin’ back, babygirl. You dont’ get to touch Daddy ‘til you admit t’ what you did. Tell Daddy… were you a good girl or a bad girl today, hm?”
You did as he ordered and returned your hands to their previous resting position against the small of your back. You didn’t want to admit to him or yourself that you had messed up today, broken one of the rules he had for you. But you knew that you were already caught, he already knew the truth, and you were getting punished no matter what.
“B… Bad girl, Daddy,” you confessed, your voice coming out small and meek.
“Yeah, tha’s right. You were a bad fuckin’ girl today.” Your obedient admission of guilt prompted him to shift his harsh demeanor to a softer one. “Why were you a bad girl, darlin’, huh? Tell Daddy what you did.” He could never stay too mean with you for long, he loved you too much to not be sweet on you. 
He began to comb his fingers across your scalp, and the sensation made your eyelids start to feel heavy, sending you deeper into your soft state of submission. Still kneeling, you shuffled closer to him, and this time, he allowed you to wrap your hands around his calf. 
“I- I left the town by myself… Didn’ tell you where I was goin’...” 
“Yeah, you sure did, honey. And why does that make you a bad girl, hm? Come on, don’t float away from me jus’ yet.” He gave your cheek a soft pat, bringing you back down to Earth a bit.
“B- because I made Daddy worry about me. Somethin’ b- bad could’ve happened to me and you wouldn’t’a kn- known where I was.” 
“Tha’s right, sugar. Thank you for bein’ honest with Daddy...” He stopped stroking your hair in favor of cupping the side of your face, softly rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. Joel was always good at understanding you when you struggled to speak through your little hiccups and sobs. “You know you’re not suppose’ta leave Jackson without me, darlin’. It’s dangerous outside the walls, I gotta be with you, gotta protect my lil’ girl, yeah?”
“I know… I’m s- sorry, Daddy. Won’t h- happen again, I promise. Don’ wanna be a bad girl–”
“Shh, I know darlin’, I know,” he interrupted before you could get yourself too worked up, squatting down to your level and using his thumbs to softly wipe away a few tears that had spilled over onto your heated cheeks. “Always wanna be so good for me, isn’t that right? Sweet lil’ thing loves bein’ Daddy’s good girl, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, Daddy, love bein’ good for you, always wanna be good for you...”
“I know, honey, I know. But you were bad today, breakin’ my rules. The rules I have to keep you safe, to protect you... I think that deserves at least a few spankin’s, don’t ya think? Hm? Since you were honest with Daddy, I’ll make ‘em softer today. Ten sound okay, sugar?”
You gave him an eager nod, more willing to accept your punishment now that he promised not to spank you too hard. He raised his eyebrows at your silent response, not completely satisfied.
“Yes, Daddy,” you spoke up to correct yourself.
“Good girl, tha’s better. C’mon over here, over my knee. We’ll do ten spanks, and if you take all of ‘em without any whinin’, I’ll let you have a lil’ treat… How’s that sound?”
“Sounds good, Daddy…” You nodded, starting to calm down a bit. You got up from your kneeling position and made your way over to where Joel was now sat on a fallen log. He patted his thighs with a “C’mere, baby,” and you obediently bent yourself over his lap. He reached underneath your tummy to unbutton your jeans and gently pulled them down, along with your panties, to expose your plush bottom to him.
He delivered the ten spanks, making them softer than usual as promised, but they stung nonetheless. After all, they still had to hurt a little bit if you were going to learn your lesson and remember to follow his rules. 
You thanked him for your punishment and stood up, facing him, but still struggled to look him in the eye and felt guilty for disobeying him.
“I really am sorry, Daddy…” you said quietly, almost a whisper.
He used one hand to gently lift up your chin to make your eyes meet, and the other to stroke through your hair again.
“I know y’ are, honey. Thank you for apologizing to Daddy. You took your punishment so well for me, baby, my good lil’ girl... Daddy just wants to keep you safe, tha’s all… You know that, right? You know that’s why Daddy’s gotta punish you sometimes?”
You nodded in understanding as he pulled your underwear back up over your bottom and eyed the wet spot that had begun to form on the front of them.
“Oh, sweetheart, look at that… Looks like we might have to find a different punishment to use from now on, won’t we? Seems like you might enjoy this one a bit too much… My naughty girl…” He ran his knuckles over the damp fabric, making you whimper at the contact. “Why don’t we get you back to the house and take care of this needy pussy, hm? Can’t even get a spankin’ without her droolin’ for me…”
“Please, Daddy…” your breath hitched as you rocked into his touch, arousal heating up at his brief humiliation.
“Patience, babygirl… Eager lil’ thing… I said if you took your spankin’s without any whinin’ you’d get a treat, didn’t I?” He pulled your jeans back up over your underwear and buttoned them, giving you one last soft pat on your bottom before standing back up to his full height. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you taken care of…”
You walked with him hand-in-hand back to Jackson, your bottom still stinging with each step, but feeling grateful for your Joel who loves you, protects you, gives you a firm hand when you need it, and takes care of all of your needs. The pair of you got some knowing and slightly judgmental looks from some of the more gossipy townsfolk as you re-entered the gates of Jackson, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when your Daddy was about to take you up to his bedroom, lay you down on his bed, and make you feel like the most perfect girl in what’s left of the world. His perfect girl.
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thebiggerbear · 3 months
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Tom Hanniger x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."
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Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?
Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader
A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.
I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language
Word Count: 18k+
Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl
"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."
Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Jason version | Anael version | SDV Alex version
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When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive. 
How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?
You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.
As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.
When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.
He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth. 
“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”
Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”
You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”
Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.
“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.
He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.
When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.
Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.
As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.   
“Something wrong?” 
The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”
“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.
“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”
He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”
“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.
“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”
You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.
Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.
You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.
Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.
Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in. 
You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”
You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”
Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you. 
Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.
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He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.
You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?
“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”
You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool. 
You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach. 
“Are you okay?” 
You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”
Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you. 
“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.
A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”
You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand. 
Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”
Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”
“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”
“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump. 
Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.
But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.  
“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern. 
“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.
You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”
“I really want to,” you cried.
He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.
“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”
You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”  
You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.
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The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing. 
You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.
Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”
You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him. 
His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen. 
Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.
“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food. 
Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you. 
“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”
His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.
Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.  
“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.
You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.
When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”
You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.
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You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.
Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping. 
“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”
You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table. 
“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”
You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”
Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.
He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”
You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.
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Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to. 
“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together. 
“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”
Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.
He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”
Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”
His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”
“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”
His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”
You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.” 
Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”
“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”
“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”
“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”
He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”
That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth.  “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”
“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.
You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 
He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”
Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response. 
Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”
You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.
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That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him. 
You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath. 
You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.
Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. 
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You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.
You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.
You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.
Miles, though, was fair game. 
He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.
Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”
“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”
He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.
You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag. 
At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.
He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.     
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“You feeling a little better?”
You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”
He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you. 
After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”
You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.
He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 
You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”
Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”
Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”
Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”
It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them. 
He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”
You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.
He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back. 
“And Tom?” 
He glanced over at you. 
You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”
He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”
You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”
He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”
You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.
<-->
Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon. 
Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.
Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry. 
For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed. 
You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether. 
It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”
“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot. 
“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.” 
“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture. 
He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”
Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction. 
Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter. 
“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”
Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.
“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”
You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page. 
“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”
You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”
That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”
A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed. 
“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.
You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room. 
Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”
You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”
He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”
You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”
Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.
<-->
When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.  
You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”
You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.
He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”
You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”
Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”
Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”
“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”
You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you. 
You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”
“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”
You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand. 
He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.
“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”
You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words. 
You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.
Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.
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A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.
Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer. 
You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?
You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right. 
“Tom!” You screamed. 
You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand. 
You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.
He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting. 
You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though. 
He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”
Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.
His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. 
Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side. 
“Y-You promised,” you forced out.
“I did.”
“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.
His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch. 
“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”
His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”
“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”
His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally? 
“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”
“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”
His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”
You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold. 
He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”
“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
“You need to stay calm for the baby.”
You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths. 
“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”
You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.
“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”
Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. 
“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”
“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.
He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.
He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”
You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.
“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”
The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity. 
You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room. 
<-->
You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.
You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen. 
Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks. 
It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”
Tom turned a confused expression onto you. 
“When he threatened me.”
His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”
“What makes sense?”
He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”
“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.
“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”
“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered. 
He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.
<-->
“Hey. Y/N.”
You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder. 
“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured. 
Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes. 
“Okay.” 
He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so. 
You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.
He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.
You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.
“I’ll be right here if you need me.”
You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution. 
Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.
You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”
You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”
“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”
“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”
With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”
“What?” What was he talking about?
“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”
A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled. 
“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”
“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”
You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”
 “I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”
You shot him a look. 
“Open up or we’re going to report you!”
“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”
He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”
A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”    
You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.  
He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”
You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers. 
You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.  
She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it. 
You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.
Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.
Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.
Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.
“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”
“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”
Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”
You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.
Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.
You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going. 
Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead. 
“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.
Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly. 
“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.
“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”
You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”
“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.
Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”
You turned a stone cold expression on him. 
He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”
“But you’ve been with her?”
“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”
You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”
His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.” 
Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.
He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”
You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did. 
Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.
Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”
You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression. 
Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”
“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more. 
Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.
“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”
You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.
“No, it’s not,” you murmured. 
“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”
“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.
“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”
You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.
And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.
“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.” 
“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.
“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”
You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.
“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”
“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.
You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.   
The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face. 
“Hey, she alright, man?”
“You need me to call for an ambulance?”
“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”
He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”
‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky. 
He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”
“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”
Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”
He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!
“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”
You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe. 
<-->
“I’m so sorry, Tom.”
He turned an inquisitive gaze on you. 
“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”
You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that. 
He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”
“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.” 
He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”
“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born. 
“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”
“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”
He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”
“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”
His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”
You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”
You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”
Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?” 
You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”
He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”
<-->
Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.
He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line. 
At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.
He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember. 
And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.
“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?” 
You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”
He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”
Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.” 
“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”
Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.
“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.” 
“Oh.”
He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”
You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”
You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.
After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single. 
He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.
And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.
Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.
Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.  
So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.
He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.
While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now. 
You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.
Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby. 
Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.
He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one. 
He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.
You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.  
He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.
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sachirobabe · 26 days
Text
Chapter 1
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Kuroo Tetsurou x reader
Wc: 986
Summary: You, a dedicated member of the girls' volleyball team, find an unexpected connection with Kuroo Tetsurou. Igniting a bond over shared passions and stolen moments, love blossoms on the court; all because you met him at a captains meeting.
Masterlist | Next —>
Taglist: @funky-writes, @lemurzsquad, @02shuuu
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It was normal for third-years to be captains, but not necessarily in your case. You had been a captain since your first-year. Your coach had different rules, and everybody voted on a captain regardless of year status. Leading to you becoming a leader from your first year on the team.
Surprisingly, the girls and boys teams were kept separate often. The only one you were semi-close to was Nobuyuki Kai, only because you two were in the same class.
You had suggested numerous times for practice matches or jointed practices, but had consistently been turned down by the other captains and the boys' head coach.
Budgeting, costs and other important factors were assessed during the meeting. It was finally time for your yearly begging of having the two teams be closer.
"What could we benefit from playing with you guys?" Coach Nekomata crosses his arms in his seat.
"We've won the spring national tournament for the past two years." Your coach says curtly. “We’d be great practice.”
He ponders. "You've been at this since you were a little first-year, Y/n." Nekomata chuckles and turns in his chair to face you. "I like your determination. Why not? Let's do it."
"Really?" Your mouth is agape.
"Mhm." He agrees. "We'll plan at least one practice match every week."
"Thank you!" You bow to him and the new captain sitting next to him.
"You won't regret it, coach." Mori, your coach gives him a wide smile.
"We won't go easy on you." The new captain exits along with you.
"Better not." You smile back. "I'm Y/n L/n, I'm sorry I never got to formally meet you in there."
"It's all good. Kuroo Tetsurou." He says back. "New year already, huh?"
"Last one, too." You smile softly, "You think you'll get many new players trying out?"
He thinks for a moment, "Probably not, you?"
"We always have a big turnout, but most of the unserious players quit after the first day. I think we’ll get 3-4 new first-years.” You answer.
"I'm really excited for the training camp, you're assisting right?" He continues the small talk.
"Yeah I will, don't you remember me assisting the last couple of years?" You raise an eyebrow.
He laughs softly, "I do. Just wanted to make sure." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "Well anyway, I've gotta do some supply checks, I'll see you later." He waves and you give a small one back.
The spring wind softly blew, giving a nice breeze to the warm sun. First day of school and volleyball was tomorrow, you’re both excited and a little sad. This would be your last year before going to university.
You began to walk home, putting in your headphones to listen to music to past time. The music stopped, indicating you were getting a call. Confused, you look at your screen and see Himari, your best friend and teammate.
“Hello?” You pick up.
“Hey, you busy?” She asks out of breath.
“No, I’m just coming back from the captains meeting.” You say.
“I forgot that was today, how’d it go?” She questions and hears you sigh, “You know what, come to my house. We can bake some cookies and talk about it.”
A small smile formed on your lips, you had good news, but you wanted to act upset so you could tell her in person. “I’m heading over, you need me to pick up anything at the store?”
“I don’t think so, my mom just went grocery shopping.” She says.
“Alright, I’m 5 minutes away.” You say and hang up, you quickly text your parents that you’d be going over to Himari’s for a little.
She lived next door to you, making you grow up with each other. Your mom had put you into volleyball from a young age and when Himari moved in, you asked her to play and she too, fell in love with the sport.
You don’t even knock anymore, that’s how close your families are. You let yourself in and see Himari sitting at her kitchen counter.
“Where’s your mom?” You say, wanting to greet her.
“She’s on a date!” Himari smiles widely. Her mother was divorced and ended up raising Himari herself.
“Please tell me it’s with the guy from the farmers market.” You ask and she nods furiously, making you both squeal. “Good for her. I hope it goes well.”
“Same here.” She agrees. “Now, tell me all about the meeting.” She pulls out a mixing bowl, already having the ingredients out.
You walk over to the sink to wash your hands, “You know how it always goes. Budgeting, storage, and whatnot.”
“So boring.” She rolls her eyes and eats a chocolate chip, “Did you ask coach Nekomata about joint practices or matches?”
“I did.” You say and stay quiet. “He said yes!”
She screams in excitement, “No way. Really?”
“Yes way. He said he liked my determination and would schedule a practice match every week!” You two hug and pull away.
“I’m so glad. We could definitely beat them.” She rolls her eyes.
“I know.” You smile. “I can’t wait to tell the rest of the team.”
“Speaking of, has coach gave you the practice plan?” She gulps.
“No.” You say with wide eyes. “It’ll probably be bad. She does it so she can weed out the weak ones.”
Himari grabs a cookie from the pan, “Lets toast, for the next two weeks of absolute hell.” You grab a cookie and touch it against hers giggling.
“It’s getting late.” You say, having to be up early after weeks of waking up late. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” You wave and jog to your house.
You greet your parents and quickly head off to your room to make sure you have everything for tomorrow. You have butterflies in your stomach as you lay in bed, forcing your eyes shut.
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