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#i would never go back to replay it but it makes me mad when people dunk on it like ALL games then were busted drink some juice
ghostkennedy · 11 months
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Cameras Pt. 2
~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~
Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277
PART ONE
Content warnings: smut, sexual content, breaking n entering, stalker leon, obsessed leon, dirty talk, degradation, praise, grinding, slapping, spitting, choking, hair pulling, biting, aggressive sex, very brief mention of wanting to slice reader open and climb inside her, lots of begging, blowjob, throat fucking, taking pictures during sex, fingering, p in v sex, creampie
!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!
The water for your shower had been running for a few minutes now, but as you sat on the toilet seat, your mind was elsewhere. Jumbled thoughts and random flashbacks to the past 2 days were consuming you. You’d been home for two hours now and had yet to do anything at all besides think and think. But you had to shower and probably eat something eventually so you opened your phone and connected to your Bluetooth speaker, allowing your brain to get lost in the music. Maybe music could chase the thoughts away, maybe you could have a few minutes of peace.
You stepped underneath the hot water and let out a deep sigh. You let the water wash over your body and focus on the lyrics of the song blaring through the speaker. Slowly washing your body as you swayed to the music. You found yourself mumbling along to the lyrics of the song as you ran shampoo through your hair. All that mattered right now was the music and washing yourself. You’d never taken such a serene fucking shower, but things had gotten weird since what you’d discovered about Leon.
Leon. So much for sweet inner peace. You weren’t any closer to knowing what you were going to do about him. How could you even show your face around the office knowing he’s there? You can’t manage to force yourself to forget about him and trust me when I say you’ve tried. You’ve desperately tried to push the fresh memories to the back of your mind. As time goes on, perhaps you could forget about what happened; or at the very least the memories could become hazy and your brain wouldn’t be plagued with replays of Leon and his cock. How do you forget a cock like that? Now you’re thinking about his cock again. You’re supposed to not be thinking about his cock. Stop thinking about his cock!
You finished washing yourself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself up snugly in a towel. You wiped the fog off the mirror and stared into your reflection. Why was this happening to you of all people? Maybe it wasn’t you specifically after all. It could just be a thing for Leon. He picks someone to obsess over until he’s bored and then moves onto the next fixation. He definitely knew what he was doing with the obsessive stalker shit. He could eventually move on and then you could move on as well. Now that you know about him, he could lose interest in you. 
God, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. You hope that isn’t the case? Why the fuck would you hope that’s not the case? This isn’t healthy at all. You hate the way the whole situation is making you feel. Well, hate is a very strong word and Leon doesn’t deserve to be associated with such a word. Uncomfortable? Nerve racking? Uneasy, tense, disturbed? You couldn’t think of a word to describe it. Exhilarating? Intoxicating? Maybe you loved it. Maybe a part of you hated it and the other part, a much bigger part, absolutely loved it in every way. Nobody or anything had ever been so devoted to you. Infatuated with you.
You’re one mentally ill human being. You shook the thoughts from your head as you made your way out of the bathroom. Dinner and some good sleep should help clear your mind. Your thoughts could be factory reset by the morning and you’ll be able to go about your day as if everything is normal. Welcome to the state of Denial, you’ve officially entered. Enjoy your stay with us and please come again. You’re losing your mind, you’ve gone mad. 
Upon entering your living room, you came to an abrupt halt. Your heart felt like it almost fell out of your ass and your muscles all tensed up as if preparing for impact. “What the fuck?” you yelled out, “What are you, the fucking cat whisperer?” The man on your couch just chuckled, not even looking up from the book in his hands. One of your cats was cuddled up against his leg and your other cat was on the back of the couch cuddled into his opposing shoulder. “What are you doing here? Is that my book?” you asked Leon.
He shut the book and laid it down on the other cushion on the couch. He looked up at you and replied, “You should really read the next chapter, things are really starting to heat up.” He talked so casually, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. All you could do was stand in place staring at him, eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to make of this situation. “How was your shower?”
You cocked an eyebrow, “Good. What are you doing here?” 
“We have things to discuss,” he motioned for you to come closer to him, but you refused to move. “Come. Here,” he demanded and you shook your head at him.
“You couldn’t knock?”
“Why would I knock when you know I can just come in? Sounds like a waste of time to me.”
“Because you don’t live here! You could be a nice guy and respect boundaries, although it’s obvious you aren’t very good at that,” you shot him a dirty look and all he did was laugh. Comes into your place unannounced, scares the shit out of you, and he has the audacity to laugh at you. You two stared right at each other. An unspoken staring contest taking place between the two of you. You broke eye contact and sighed, slowly making your way over to sit next to him on the couch.
Leon had other plans, quickly darting his arms out to intercept you. He easily maneuvered you to straddle his thighs, causing you to let out an embarrassing shriek. 
“Leon, what the fuck? I’m basically naked! Let me go,” you exclaimed and tried to pull away from him, but he just held onto you tighter. He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you even closer to him.
“Oh wow, I thought you were fully dressed under your towel. My mistake,” he smirked as you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster with flushed cheeks. “Have you gone all shy on me? But you displayed everything so nicely for me in those photos,” which caused you to avert your eyes away from him, staring at the cushion underneath you.
He grabbed your chin and brought your face back up to his and you couldn’t help but finally take in his appearance. He was wearing a button up shirt with the top few buttons undone, exposing the light hair on his chest. The sleeves were pushed up above his elbows, extenuating his huge biceps. He could wrap that bicep around your throat, slowly drain the life from you and you’d die a happy little content slut.
You brought your eyes back up to meet his, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. His eyes looked across your exposed collarbones, down your arms, exploring the valley of your exposed thighs on either side of him. His eyes devoured you in a way that sent chills down your spine.
He finally met your gaze and you didn’t give yourself time to think before your right hand was raising up to his cheek, gently rubbing it. “You’re a fucking creep,” you said, your eyes never leaving his. Both your hands tangled up into his dirty blond hair as you continued, “What kind of a person breaks into someone’s house and jerks off with their panties? You’re a freak of nature. They should study people like you. What’s wrong with you?” He ground his hips up into you and you could feel his hard cock rubbing against you.
You pulled his hair as he brought his mouth to your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. You had to fight back the moan that threatened to spill past your lips. He brought his mouth right up against your ear and spoke, “What kind of slut gets turned on by such behavior, huh?” You slowly start grinding yourself against his jeans, your exposed cunt making contact with his covered cock. You pulled your hands away from him, causing him to pull his mouth away from your ear and lean back so he could look at you.
You don’t know what came over you, but you pulled your dominant hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. “Anyone turned on by what you do is fucking deluded,” you told him as his hands pushed your towel up past your hips. His hands gripped so tightly into your hips you knew there’d be marks. You felt like your pelvis might snap in half between the pressure of his hands, but fuck did it make you so uncontrollably wet. 
“What was I supposed to do? The second I laid my eyes on you I couldn’t think of anything fucking else. I was jerking my cock what seemed like every hour for weeks after meeting you. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to slice you open, climb inside your body, and fucking live there. But I obviously can’t do that, so I climbed inside your house, surrounding myself with your things, learned everything there was to know about you, so at the very fucking least I could be inside your mind,” he said as you two grinded into each other like your lives depending on it.
He continued, “I watched you install your stupid cameras and do you think I gave a shit? I put on a show for you so that I could overtake your fucking mind like you did mine. I’ve been watching you for so long, I knew you were a depraved, needy whore. I knew if I showed you the truth it’d make your little pussy wet. You were made for me, fuck, just look at you.” He grabbed the back of your hair and yanked your head back. You couldn't contain it anymore, his words working you up more than you could stand.
Whimpers, gasps, pants, moans, sounds you’d never made before in your life were falling from your lips as you continued getting that sweet friction against your weeping cunt. His hand left your hair and pulled your towel completely off, baring you completely before him. He took one of nipples into his mouth and sucked intensely, like he was a dying man and the only thing keeping him alive was his mouth on your body.
As he sucked on your breast, his eyes rose and stared back into yours. This sudden urge came over you and you let saliva pool in your mouth before spitting it out on his cheek. He stopped the assault on your breast and looked at you with a shocked expression on his face, trying to comprehend what you had just done to him. “You disgust me,” you said before he quickly wrapped his hand around your throat, completely cutting off your air. 
Your hand quickly shot up and gripped onto his. You weren’t trying to pull his hand away, oh no, you held his grip tighter. Your reflexes were kicking in, your mouth fell open as your lungs tried to suck in any air they could. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but that didn’t stop you from feeling Leon spit right into your open mouth.
“Fucking look at you taking whatever I’ll give you. You’re a filthy whore and you can’t even help it. You sit here and call me all sorts of names because you love my obsession with you,” he spoke as your face felt on fire and numb at the same time. He let go of your throat and you began to greedily suck in the air you’d been deprived of.
Grabbing you by the shoulders, he pushed you onto the floor on your knees as he stood before you, undoing his belt and jeans letting them fall down until he was just in his boxers before you. Your vision cleared as you looked directly at his hard dick through his briefs. You could see the growing wet spot on them from his precum as he brought his hand to his bulge and started rubbing himself through his underwear. 
You looked up with pleading eyes, hoping he’d understand what you so badly wanted to give him, but understanding is not what you got.
“What is it, baby? Is there something you want? We have to ask for things when we want them, that’s a concept you’re familiar with right? Or are you just a stupid slut who expects me to give her whatever she wants without having to work for it, hmm?” he said, the pace in which he was rubbing himself picking up. You whined, maybe he would give in and just let you take him without having to speak the words out loud. He just stared at you, waiting.
You cleared your throat and forced out the words, “Please, can I please suck your cock? I need to taste you so bad, please. Please sir, please fuck my mouth like you deserve to.” Once the words came out you couldn’t stop them. You needed him so badly, all you could do was helplessly beg. “I’ll be so good, I’ll do whatever you want from me, just please let me take your cock. Let me show you I can be good. Let me show you how well my throat can take it,” you continued begging and almost started drooling as he slowly pulled his underwear down, letting them fall to his ankles.
You looked up at him, asking for permission, “May I, sir?” He ran his hand down your scalp, bringing it down to your cheek and massaging it underneath his palm. He suddenly pulled his hand away before a sharp slap met your cheek that had your brain going foggy. The pain spread through your face, causing your jaw to fall open in a groan. 
Leon took this opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth, your attention grabbed immediately as your lips wrapped around him. You let out a moan as the taste of his precum flooded your mouth. The pain from the slap mixed with his taste had your eyes rolling back into your head as you sucked him in as hard as you could.
Leon’s head fell back in pleasure as a moan of your name fell from his lips. You pulled his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to spur him on. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping him while you took his cock as deep as it could go in your throat. The sheer size of his member still blew your mind despite seeing it over camera twice. Nothing could compare to him being right in front of your face.
One of his hands tangled in your hair as the other one fiddled with something behind him. “Hey,” he said, grabbing your attention away from the work you were doing on his cock, “You can say no, okay?” You raised an eyebrow questioningly as you didn’t know what he was trying to say. He pulled up your Polaroid camera and it started coming together in your brain. You whimpered realizing he wanted to take pictures of the two of you together.
The idea rushed feverishly through you and straight down to your cunt. You’d never thought of taking pictures in the act. You both knew you’d taken plenty of pictures alone, but the thought of doing this with Leon and having the pictures for both of you to hold onto? You could feel the arousal pooling down your thighs as you nodded your head once to let him know to please continue. He smiled down at you, “Atta girl. Put on a show for me and I’ll make it worth your while, yeah?” The hand still held in your hair pulled tightly, causing you to close your eyes as you kept up your work on his cock.
You lost yourself in pleasing him. Giving him pleasure gave you pleasure as well. The way his cock stretched your mouth around him was heavenly. He was thrusting into your mouth, pushing himself down your throat. Tears were pouring down your face, but you didn’t want him to stop. You loved feeling like this, loved when your mind went foggy as he used you.
“Look at me,” he suddenly demanded. You looked up and your eyes immediately looked into the camera as he snapped a picture of you. “Fuck, such a good girl. So good for me, your mouth is, fuck, fucking perfect,” he whined out. The sound was pure sex, causing you to moan around his dick.
“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me into your slutty cunt, huh?” he asked you as you pulled your mouth off his cock sucking in a deep breath.
“Please, please. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to use my pussy until you cum, sir,” you were once again pleading for him. You couldn’t find shame within you anymore. Your need heavily outweighed your pride. And knowing he liked you like this? You wanted to give yourself over to him whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
He walked around you, pushing you forward so that your chest was laying on the cushions of your couch, knees still on the floor as he spread them wider before him. You looked back at him just in time to see him take a picture of you bent over for him. After the photo was pushed out of the camera, he brought the device closer to your sopping pussy and took a picture of how wet and needy you were for him. He sat the camera down and started kneading both his hands into your ass cheeks.
Leaning forward he kissed your shoulder as one hand slipped down between your thighs and rubbed your clit gently. He ran his fingers up and down your folds before sinking a finger into your wet heat. You couldn’t help but whine at this point. You were so worked up, you could’ve taken his cock immediately, but you were also too worked up to be able to voice this. He slid another finger in as you let out a long, high pitched moan. 
“Are you ready for me, baby? I need to feel your pussy around my cock,” Leon asked you as you nodded your head as fast as humanly possible. He chuckled at your neediness before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to your lips. “Here, be a good girl and clean this up for me,” he could barely finish his statement before you were sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He let out a deep moan as his other hand pulled back and smacked your ass hard. 
He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the tip against your wet hole, causing you to instinctively push yourself back, trying to take his cock. This earned you another smack on your ass. You moaned as you arched your back from the pain. Leon took this opportunity and slammed himself all the way inside of you, which had you unintentionally biting his fingers that were still being held in your mouth. He moaned at the way your teeth dug into his fingers before pulling them out and running his hand down your back.
You turned to look at him, begging, “Please move Leon, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, please please please please.” You couldn’t help but move your ass around to get some sort of movement within your pussy. You were so desperate, you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling your head back to rest on his peck as your back arched even further for him, “I’ve got you sweet girl.” He finally, finally, started moving and moans were already falling from your lips uncontrollably. “That’s it, you take me so well. Gonna make you feel so good,” Leon praised you. He had completely switched from the degrading way he spoke to you earlier and the praise had you melting beneath his touch. Your walls flutter around his cock in approval.
His pace picked up as he ruthlessly began pounding into you. You were uttering incoherent phrases at him as the pleasure was coursing through every nerve in your body. Leon leaned forward and buried his head in your neck, letting loose the most pornographic moans you’d ever heard. You didn’t know what was giving you more pleasure, the way he was fucking you or the way he sounded.
You pulled your hands from where they were gripping the couch and wrapping them behind you, tangling his hair in your fingers as you pulled his mouth to yours. The kiss was messy and loud, moaning as your tongues clashed together desperately trying to feel every square inch of each other. Leon’s hands released their grip on your thighs and ran them up to your stomach until he reached your breasts, where he rubbed your nipples between his fingers, further driving you crazy.
You felt yourself slowly climbing that mountain, heading towards release, when Leon’s movements suddenly stopped and he pushed your chest back into the couch, pressing you into it with both hands. You were whining and pushing yourself up and down his cock while he held you in place. “That’s it, fuck yourself with my cock. You look so good like this, so fucking needy,” Leon barely formed the words together as he got lost in the sight of you. He rested his hands lazily on his hips, holding himself up as you forcibly fucked back onto his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please fuck me. I’m so close I need you to fill me up, please,” you begged, wearing yourself out from your movements, hardly able to catch your breath but unrelenting in your need to cum. 
Leon gave into your request, pushing his hands into your back, holding you in place as he ruthlessly fucked into you. He let out a loud moan before speaking, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me sweet girl. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” You couldn’t formulate a response, but after a few more hard, sloppy thrusts you were screaming Leon’s name and all sorts of profanities as you came. 
After feeling you squeeze his cock so tightly, Leon was cumming deep inside your pussy. Thrusting into you through his orgasm, pushing his cum further inside of you. Your knees gave out beneath you, but Leon was quick to grab your hips and hold you up. He slowly slid his cock out of you, taking in the view of his cum slowly dripping down your thighs. If it was possible, he would’ve cum again at the sight alone. 
He helped you turn over and lay on the floor right beside your couch as he laid down right next to you. You were tightly sandwiched between the couch and coffee table with him, but you didn’t mind. You wanted to be as close to him as possible. You rolled onto your side and threw your leg and arm over him, chin resting on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, catching your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was a sharp contrast to how you’d just been moments ago and it would’ve given anyone whiplash, but to you both it made perfect sense. 
Leon pulled away and spoke softly, “There’s only one thing I’m not sure of. Why’d you get the cameras?” You let out an airy laugh and were about to speak when you were interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by one of your cats zooming through the living room and into your bedroom away from the noise.
“What the fuck was that?” you yelled, whipping your head towards the kitchen. “That’s why I got the damn cameras! Between the cats, and apparently you, I was beginning to believe I was living with a poltergeist.”
Leon laughed before speaking, “Hey, I’m careful. That’s all on them or the poltergeist.”
~masterlist~
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appleblueberry-pie · 2 months
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yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽
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[Come back home to me.]
You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.
"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.
There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."
Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.
You're not telling him yes.
Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.
The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".
"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.
His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"
The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.
He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?
It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.
Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.
Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.
"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.
You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."
And everyone dispersed.
You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.
Immediately, you began your journey to his place.
His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."
He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.
"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.
You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.
"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.
"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."
He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.
"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"
You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.
You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"
"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.
"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.
It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."
"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"
He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"
You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."
Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.
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writingsfromhome · 4 months
Text
If you Love Something
A/N: this has been an idea sitting in my drafts for a while. You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, were forced to make a serious decision then, and it’s aftereffects have lingered for the rest of your lives. It deals with some heavier topics so read with caution (alcoholism, depression, unwanted pregnancy etc). I’d describe it as sad but hopeful.
Part 2
—————————————
Age 17.
It started in secret. We’d found each other on the roof of a house party. Truth be told, I saw him sneak out of the window where people were crowded around the TV watching some controversial music video I hadn’t heard about. And I’d followed.
I knew who Harry was. Had him in English, Maths, and Biology last year. He was well spoken, thoughtful, and silly. I never spoke to him once though. Only admired him from afar.
Tonight I had my first drink and then another. I was feeling buzzed and despite being painfully shy for most of the time I’d known everyone here, I was suddenly gripped by the realization that we were approaching the last year we would all be together. Why had I waited this long to pursue someone I thought was cute?
I snuck out after him, when my friends weren’t looking. I even tilted the window more closed than usual so no one would suspect anything; I had the attic room at home so I knew how to maneuver the angled roof to get comfortable.
“You need any help?” Harry’s voice is clear in the silence.
“I’m alright.” I stand up to peer at him. He’s climbed near the top.
“Sure? You don’t seem steady.”
“Oh I’m steady,” I prove it to him by climbing up to where he was. “See?”
“I’m mistaken. My bad.” He holds out a hand to help me sit beside him and the night sky flashes brighter for an instant when I grasp his hand. My stomach is in knots.
“Harry. Styles.” I don’t know why I say his full name but I was nervous.
He repeats my full name back to me. I don’t know why I’m surprised he knows it. It’s not like we went to a big school.
“What brings you out here?”
I try to be bold about it, “You?”
“Party was getting too much.” He says. I stare at him in confusion while he complains about something his friends had gotten up to.
I replay my answer and realized it sounded like I’d skipped answering his question and asked the question back. Bugger.
“You know my name.” I interrupt him, forgetting he was telling me a story. Awkward.
“Yeah? Of course I do.”
“We’ve never talked.”
“We talked. Once in Maths. We had to grade each other’s answers.”
Oh yeah. I burn when I remember the 4/10 he’d given me with a smiley face saying that maths was masochistic.
“Barely.”
“I know you though,” he says with a softness that makes my heart stutter.
“Do you?” I look to him, resting my chin on my shoulder. He gazes down at me and I swear I could taste the colours around us.
His eyes draw me deeper as he inches closer. Was he going to kiss me? Oh my god.
I look back out to the roof and he jerks away. Omg.
“I do.”
“Oh,” I don’t know what to do after that awkward moment.
“I know you’re really quiet and shy but your smile is so loud you can see it from across the room.” He says and my breath catches as he continues. “You’re yourself with your friends, you really like Harry Potter and field hockey. You would kill Mal Adams if you could get away with it and you hate Maths just as much as you love art. You’re dating Oli Graves but your smile is only ever shining half as bright when you’re around him. Can I go on?”
I stop breathing completely halfway through his declaration of knowing me. All this time I had my eye on him, I didn’t know he was watching me too.
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion on my relationship.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t give you one either.”
I glare at him. He was right. He smiles knowing he was. I’m mad that I’m not mad at him. That he was right.
“What are you doing with a guy like that?”
Oli and I had been dating for 7 months now. He was loud and fun in a way I wish I could be. That’s why I liked him so much. That’s why I was at a party like this to begin with.
“He’s a good guy.”
“That’s all?” He asks. I look over but he’s looking up at the sky. I follow his gaze and get lost in the great expanse of nighttime.
“I think you deserve someone who sees you. Don’t you?”
“Did Ally see you?” I ask with a hint of aggression I didn’t mean to have.
“Ally and I broke up during Easter. So there’s your answer.” He’s unbothered.
“Well what do you want?” I ask.
“Right now? Or in life?”
I shrug. “Both?”
“I want to explore the world and meet all kinds of people. I wanna make the world a better place by being in it. It’s cheesy as shit so if you ever said I said this I’ll deny it and you’ll look like-“
“My lips are sealed.” I turn his way to promise him that. It makes me laugh at how serious he looks saying it all and when I do his face relaxes.
“You laugh is nice too. I forgot to mention that.”
That quiets me very quickly.
“And right now,” he continues. “I’d really like to kiss you.”
My ears ring. Did I hear him right? Could you get so drunk you hallucinate? I swear the cold air had sobered me-
“Did you hear what I said?” Harry’s moved in closer to me. Did I? I don’t know.
“What d-“
“I’d like to kiss you.”
I nod, afraid to talk and realize I’d hallucinated him saying that.
The world melts away when he kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like Oli and his jagged pushy kissing. In the nighttime air it’s warm, and soft, and easy.
“I know you,” Harry says when we part. I’d nearly climbed into his lap and I try to edge away, embarrassed, but he keeps a hand firm on my thigh.
“I know you too Harry,” I breathe. He smiles and it crinkles his luscious eyes.
I think I was falling.
***
We keep it a secret after I break up with Oli. For months, until mid-August when I invite him over for dinner after my mom insists on meeting “the boy I was all doe-eyed over”. The night with my family goes so well—Harry is the picture of a courteous gentleman that even my sister is swayed by him despite saying boys were gross. I ask him to hang out, in public, the next day. He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.
That’s what I love about Harry—yes love. He’s not pushy, he lets me go at my own pace. He respects me and sees me for everything I am and loves me anyway. I wanted to spend my whole life with him.
It was so intense and relaxed at the same time. It felt like no relationship I’d been in before. I felt different being with him, even my friends noticed.
When final year started, Harry and I were official but we didn’t flaunt it. We didn’t need to. My friends knew about us and they were happy for us, they told me I was more me. Whatever that meant.
Life was phenomenal and I was living in a dusky haze. Nothing could touch us.
Until one day in February. I was out with my sister, mum didn’t want to take her out and since I recently got my driver’s license with plenty of lessons from Harry, I was driving her to the mall. She needed Valentine’s Day cards.
“I thought you said love is stupid.” I remind her on the way.
“It is.”
“So why the hell am I driving you to buy cards for a made up holiday?”
“Because!” She crosses her arms and stares out the window. I flick her arm at a red light.
“You have a crush.”
“I do not!”
“Do too. Who is it? James? Mattie? Hamid?”
“Ew! They’re freaks.” My sister continues staring out the window.
“Why do you want to buy cards so bad!?”
“I just want them! For my friends!”
“Okay then,” I didn’t believe her. But I couldn’t bring her home crying or mum would ground me.
A lot of places have slim pickings. Wandering the aisle of Waterstones I catch sight of a family friend. She was my dad’s uni friend’s daughter, a few years older than me but by the time I got to secondary she had dropped out after getting pregnant. I remember the buzz when everyone found out.
I avoid her and find an aisle to occupy myself.
Harry and I were always careful, mum had already given me the talk and he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t. I imagine Harry as a dad. He would make a good one I think.
As one thought leads to another I go cold as I realize something. My last period was during the holidays.
I feel like I’m walking in a swarm of locusts as I walk to the edge of the aisle, scanning for my sister. Maybe I can pop into a pharmacy before she’s done. Maybe…
This was crazy. It was probably just a missed period.
But if it isn’t, another voice asks. I felt it in my gut. I had to do this.
I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day except two faint lines, and then two faint lines again, and a third time. I fall asleep before dinner that night and shut the world out.
***
“I know something’s wrong.” Harry’s walking me home after school. It’s Valentine’s Day and he’d been nothing but sweet. He bought me chocolates, flowers, and we planned to cook dinner together after school. I had bought him chocolates too, and had written him a heartfelt note with a bunch of photos of us weeks ago. The box was in my room, waiting for tonight. “Do you not like the flowers? Or is it dinner? We can go out somewhere instead?”
“No everything’s lovely.” I’d never heard Harry this desperate before. It gets under my skin even though part of me knows that’s not really it. But having him hover over me all week trying to figure out what was wrong was too much.
I’d spent every night this week with a hand over my belly. Thinking about it. I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. All I can think of was Jenny and I didn’t want that life. I couldn’t. I couldn’t be a mother.
“Please. What’s the matter.” Harry asks again, tugging at my hands but I pull them away.
“I just need some space!” I shout and he flinches. “I’m sorry Harry. I just need space right now.”
“Right now like…” he scratches his head. “I don’t get you. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’ve been talking about this day for weeks what do you mean you want space?”
“I can’t do this right now. Please.”
“Are you-are we…”
“I’m not breaking up with you.” I look at Harry with tears in my eyes, I didn’t want to cry out here. But every time I look at him I remember the reality. What’s growing inside me. I can’t take it. “I just can’t do today.”
I go inside my house. Leave him without further explanation. I feel awful, I can’t hold the tears in long enough to get to my room.
***
“Hey love?” My mum and dad knock on my door at half past 5. I lay in the dark, having cried myself dry. “We’re worried about you. Can we talk.”
“I can’t.” I say, voice stuffy.
“I thought you and that boyfriend of yours had plans,” dad says. He liked Harry but he rarely called him by his name. “Did something happen?”
“No!” I wanted them to leave me alone. “I just. I had to cancel. I’m fine.”
“Don’t sound fine to me love,” I feel the mattress dip as mum sits down. Dad strokes my hair. They whisper something I can’t hear and a pair of footsteps pad out of my room.
“Mum just leave me alone.” I try again.
“I’m not.” She pushes me further into my bed and leans down, tugging my blanket down. When I finally look at her she smiles kindly and kisses my forehead. That fills me up enough to start wailing again. “Oh love, what’s wrong?”
“Everything!” I sob into my blanket. Mom lays down beside me and I let myself be cradled like a child. God, I had a child. This was so fucked.
“Talk to me. We can figure it out together.”
I don’t know how my parents would react. They were never particularly strict, especially after what happened with Jenny I remember them always being sympathetic. We even visited her in hospital with a gift.
Mum strokes my hair and whispers that it’ll be okay. Slowly my sobbing eases into light sniffles. I had to tell her. She would know what to do. And if she hated me for it, I would just have to deal with it.
“Mum don’t be mad-“
“I won’t honey I-“
“No. Mum.” I cut her off. She moves back on the pillow so she can see my whole face, moving a strand of hair so I couldn’t hide. “Something…messed up. Happened. And…I was careful. We were always careful I don’t know what happened but I-“
I watch her face changed. Like she knew. She knew what was coming but she waits patiently as I muster up the courage to say the words that felt too real once I said them.
“Mum I’m…I’m pregnant.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip. What was she thinking? Was she crying for me or with me? Why wasn’t she saying anything!?
“Mum-“
“C’mere.” She wraps me in her embrace again and kisses the top of my head. My body feels drained and limp. I finally told somebody. It was real. This living thing inside of me was real.
“What happened?” She asks next. And I tell her what I think happened. When. How I found out. She listens, holding my hand in hers. When I’m done and it’s poured out of me she smiles supportively. “This isn’t a bad thing okay? It’s okay. Any decision you make is up to you. I’ll talk to your dad but just know you call the shots okay? I love you.”
This is what carries me. The love.
She asks me it I told Harry yet and I tell her the truth. She urges me to tell him. I tell her I wanted to so bad but I was scared.
She leaves shortly after that, I hear her talking softly outside my room. Nobody calls me for dinner until 7, a soft knock on my door. My sister would never be so soft, I assume it’s dad so I tell him to come in. I was scared to face him.
It’s Harry instead.
“Harry!” I cover my splotchy face with my blanket, why was he here? Did mum invite him? This was soo embarrassing.
My heart pounds and Harry is silent until he takes a seat where mum had previously been.
“I came over, your mum invited me. She explained.”
She did what? For a moment I feel betrayed.
“She said you weren’t doing so well. Stressed? I could make you some tea if you’d like. But I told you y/n, you’ll get into unis. You don’t have to worry so…”
I sigh. Mum had told him a half-truth. But he had come. Of course he had.
I couldn’t even think about uni right now because that lead me down a road of what if I couldn’t go because I had a baby. And that life felt so bleak it made me depressed.
“Harry.” I inch my blanket down a little and his eyes go round when he looks at me.
“You look…awful.”
“I know.” I cover my face with my hair but he brushes it away and kisses my forehead.
“No. I’m worried about you. I brought dinner-“
“Oh Harry.” I spot the bag he brought with him.
“I made it all for us. With my mum’s help but mostly me. I packed it to bring to you.”
I didn’t deserve him. And I had to tell him. And he was going to break up with me. What high school boy wanted a child?
“Harry it’s not uni.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was carrying another living thing. It was the size of a seed but I was carrying it inside me. Like a living breathing pot. I was a potted plant.
“Then what is it?” His brows crinkle. “Is it us?”
“No!” I rush to tell him. “I…I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t know how you’re going to react but it’s okay either way.”
“What are you talking about?” His hands slide up my lap. “What is it?”
“Harry. I’m um, I’m pregnant.”
I watch him freeze and stay exactly how he is, his brows pinch ever so slightly. I knew this look. He looked still on the outside but his mind was racing. And I was scared what was racing through it.
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah. From…the holidays.”
“How did-I thought we-“
“I guess it’s not foolproof.” I whisper. Mum had told me to go on the pill, and I hadn’t listened because all my friends told me it made them gain weight. If only I had listened. Now I was gaining weight anyway.
“What are we going to do?” He asks next. And I never realized six little words could weigh the world. If I could cut those words out and surgically implant them into my heart I would. Just to remind me the equal parts relieved and comforted they made me.
I hold his face in my hands, new tears springing to my eyes. He was in this. With me.
He kisses me and pulls me into a hug. I cry into his shirt again and he holds me so tight I swear I could break.
“I don’t know if I can keep it Harry,” I finally whisper to him.
His hands fist in my shirt, he holds his breath and after a long minute he lets me go with it.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Was he really okay with all this?
“It’s…I can’t make you keep it.”
“You’d want to keep it?” I couldn’t believe it.
“It’s…” he swallows his sentence and keeps his gaze on my stomach. I tug his hand and lay it over it. When his eyes meet mine I see a hint of heartbreak. We were going to break our hearts either way I think.
Not once did I think he might want to keep it.
“It’s okay.” Harry finally says. “We’re so young right? How would we keep a baby and go to school, and do everything we always talk about?”
“Yeah I don’t…I don’t know.”
“I love you.” He says with such a sudden passion. I wrap my arms around his and return the sentiment.
Eventually we lay down and just talk about everything. Truthfully, my head was telling me not to keep the baby but everything else felt dead thinking about it.
Maybe that’s why it took me until April to finally make a decision. It was the size of a plum by then, and a tiny bump was starting to show but only when I stood naked in front of the mirror. With clothes on, nobody was the wiser. But the longer I kept it, I think the more Harry fell in love with it. The idea of it.
We have a long talk during our Easter holiday. We talked in my bedroom until the sun comes up. I tell him I was sure of my decision.
I’d gotten accepted to Cambridge by then. Harry was staying in London. We knew it wasn’t feasible. To live the life we always wanted, we had to get rid of this new life we never knew could happen.
I don’t know why but I don’t tell him the day I go to do it. I go with my mum. Mum drops my sister off at school—she didn’t know. Mum said she had a big mouth.
We drive in silence. When we park mum asks how I feel.
“Sad.” It was the truth. I knew this was right. But it felt like shite.
“Yeah.” She rubs my hands. “Want to go in?”
“I just want to sit here for a bit.” I tell her.
“Okay. I’ll go sign you in.”
She takes my purse and hers and leaves me there. I take the moment to ground myself. Say goodbye to the other future.
When mum knocks on my window I jump.
“Yn? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah yeah I’m coming in.” I open the door.
“You know you’ve been sitting here half hour?”
I pause, one leg out the door and one still in. “I…I must have got lost in my head. Sorry mum-“
“Look. Do you want to do this?”
“I don’t know…I have to.”
“There are other options love-“
“But how can I give it up and live my whole life like that?”
“We can help raise her. You can go on and live your life-“
“I’d be a horrible mother.” Mum and I had this row so many times before. It always ended in me storming away but I couldn’t here.
“You don’t need to make the decision today.”
“But I do.” I tell her. “Otherwise it’ll drive me insane.”
I tuck both feet back into the car and rest my hand on my belly. I’d allowed myself to do that only in my room, when I was alone. Doing it out here made it feel even more real. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine going through with the decision.
“I can’t do this.” I tell my mum.
She smooths my hair down and kisses my temple. My door closes and a few seconds later she climbs in beside me.
“Think about it.”
“I can’t. But I can’t keep it either.”
“Okay.” Mum pulls me into her and I think I should cry but I can’t. I’m calm, maybe I know I’d made the right decision. Or just a decision. I was going to stick to this.
“I can’t raise it. I’m just a child I…maybe someone out there wants a baby and can’t have one maybe-“
“I’ll look into it for you.” Mum promises. “You set the rules remember?”
And that’s how it goes. Mum looks into it, we decide to go for adoption. We go to the hospital on the first warm day of the year. By then I’d taken to wearing jumpers over flowy dresses and been thankful for the first time in my life that I wasn’t skinny like other girls. At most angles you couldn’t tell my belly was so perfectly round.
By then too, Harry had accepted the decision. He seemed relieved. Thinking aloud he’d said maybe he could raise it, but quickly turned around when I asked him what he’d do about uni.
“Someone out there can take care of it better than us. Someone will love the baby like we do.”
During the summer, I tell all my friends I was staying with family in midlands. And I do go up there, that’s where the couple who was adopting lived. Harry and I meet them with my mum and his. It’s awkward, we run out of conversation fast. But their house is big and they already have a 2 year old from an adoption last year. My baby was going to be loved here. And have a sibling.
“We did want to discuss one last thing,” they’d said before we left. We all listen intently. “We…find it best when it’s a no contact adoption. We’ve had a lot of friends who keep contact open and it gets messy-“
“What?” I hadn’t really thought about this until now. Hearing I’d have to give the baby up and go on like it didn’t exist felt wrong. Harry’s hand slips into mine.
“This is typical,” Harry’s mum says from his side. ��Let’s hear it out.”
“Right. So just to prevent future complications, we do no contact. Of course when baby’s older and wants to seek out the real parents we can’t stop them. But until then…”
“Thank you.” My mum steps in when it goes silent. I could hardly wrap my head around what they were saying. When it gets older?
Pretty soon mum is ushering me out and Harry’s hand is still clutching mine. We don’t let go until we reach my Uncle’s where we were staying until August. The baby was due in September. I was going to miss the first week of class.
“I can’t do this.” I tell them later. “How can we just have no contact.”
“I thought you knew.” Mum says. “I explained that some parents want this when they adopt.”
She might have. Ever since I hit the third trimester like my doctor said, I’ve had a hard time listening and understanding what someone was saying after they spoke too long. I was glad school was done—for obvious reasons, but also for not having to sit in a class and learn.
“We have no other choice.” Harry says from beside me. He rubs my back and slowly, I zone back into the conversation. “We can find another family but they might want the same thing.”
“What if the baby never looks for us?” I turn to him, our heads press against the other’s. “What if we go our whole lives just wondering?”
“What’s the other option?” Harry whispers. He was right. I just didn’t want to get it.
Acceptance slowly creeps into me over the course of the summer. It was always hot carrying another person around, I was always hungry and thirsty, and very cranky. Harry came up to see me every other weekend when he could, mum stayed with me and that summer was one I could never forget.
It was September 1st, a particularly hot day. Rain fell in the afternoon and by the time the unforgiving sun set, the cool air was heavenly.
I sat by the bedroom window, moisturizing my belly like mum had shown me, talking to the baby. I wrote it a letter last week all about me, that I loved them and hoped the best for them. I told the baby about my family, how Harry and I met, and then I sealed it in an envelope with a picture of Harry and me. It was taken last Halloween when we’d both dressed up as each other. I tell mum to give it to the new parents. In case the day came the baby wondered about who we were.
As I spoke softly, I felt a gush of something wet down my leg.
“What?” I stand up, confused. “I…”
It takes me a second. I was going into labour.
“Mum!” I shout. “Mum! Come here!”
She rushes in and confirms it. It was happening.
“But it’s supposed to be next week!” I try not to panic but that’s all I can do as mum grabs our things and my aunt rushes to the car. “Does this mean something’s wrong? Is the baby o-“
I freeze as a contraction forces me to fold. I’d felt the kicking and the nausea and everything in between but these. These were a bitch.
Somehow we make it to hospital. Somehow I lay on a bed and push when the doctor tells me to. I nearly pass out. I just wanted Harry here with me. He didn’t know his kid was being born.
With a final push that felt like I was ascending my body and leaving it behind, I hear a wail and I cry. The baby was out, they cried and everything was okay.
“Okay congratulations mummy,” a nurse crouches down to me. “We’re going to clean you and baby up. She’s healthy and looks okay.”
“What?” I can barely see with my hair in my face and the nurses around me. It was a she? I had a baby girl?
We were never told the gender, so we wouldn’t get attached. But I had a baby girl. The nurse just called me mum.
I feel the tears on my cheeks, I was crying too. I try to look around me but a new nurse is talking in hushed voices to the doctor.
“…outside…call…adoption…shouldn’t or….contact-“
“What’s going on?” I can barely get the words out. “What?”
“Oh my love,” suddenly mum’s in the room and things are a bit better. A bit better.
“Mum what’s going on?”
“The baby’s born. The parents are outside they’re going to meet her soon.”
“What?” I look at mum’s face and it’s shining with tears. Why was she crying?
“Oh she’s beautiful love, she’s perfect. But your job’s done now. You should rest.”
“Mum,” I cry. “Where is she? Can’t I hold her?”
“No love,” mum moves my hair out of my face. I feel something break in half inside of me. I couldn’t even hold the baby? The baby girl? Mine and Harry’s baby girl?
“Why? Mum why? I just want to see her-“
“I’m sorry,” mum says through tears. “It’s just the way it is. She’s going to a loving home okay? She’s good. You’re okay.”
I can’t stop crying. I was going to lose her last April and I stopped that but I lost her anyway. My baby, I was never going to see her.
I remember when my sister was born. I was 5 and I was angry she’d taken the attention away. But when I saw her with her perfect toes and angel face I was obsessed with her. I even remember her first steps, she’d taken them at a park with mum and dad and me together. I was never going to know these things about my own baby. I was never going to know her.
I must pass out soon after. I remember waking up to the nurses instructing me about something. I’m half asleep and barely remember what I did when I get up. When I do wake it’s morning and there’s a figure on the chair beside me.
“You’re up.”
Harry. Relief washes over me knowing he’s here.
“Harry they took her,” I tell him.
“I know. I know yn.”
I move aside and he crawls into bed with me. I must look disgusting but he watches me with love brimming in his eyes. I can tell he’s been crying.
“I feel empty,” I whisper. Like someone had carved me out like a pumpkin. Something I’d had with me all year was gone. “How can I just move on? Start uni and all that when I…they just took her.”
“I keep thinking that.” Harry says. “Khalil invited me to a party to meet some blokes from uni and I just sat in my car the whole time. I couldn’t even go in. She…she was never going to be ours.”
“I feel awful.” I burrow into his neck as he strokes my hair. “A baby girl.”
“A baby girl,” Harry echoes.
***
I head to uni a week later. My body still feels like it fought a war and lost. It’s like it still thinks there’s a baby there. I produce milk for a few days, continue to have contractions, my belly is saggier than usual and I can’t stop crying about everything.
My dad drops me off to uni. He tells me he was proud of me, that I was always his baby girl. I cry then just like I cried at home when I said bye to mum, or when my sister hugged me which she never does. I can’t stop crying.
When I move into my dorm I feel like a completely different person than I thought I was going to be. My dormmate fills me in on everything she’s learned, complains about a boy and a party and it just feels so irrelevant to me. Did I used to care about those things? I had a baby. And now I didn’t.
By October, Harry and I are in different worlds. We hadn’t broken up but we talk weekly. Each week there’s less to talk about. When I visit home in October, being around him just makes me sad. He tries to cheer me up, make it like old times, but I know he’s hurting inside too.
I decide to do the breaking up. And at first he’s angry, insisting we could make it work. He actually refuses and walks away. We don’t talk for a whole day.
But at a house party in South where his uni mates were from, he accepts the end.
Through tears we kiss each other one final time, we whisper sweet nothings, we pour into each other all the hopes and wishes we had for each other.
When he hugs me for the last time I leave something behind. It’s similar to waking up the morning after my delivery and knowing something was gone. I really feel the shape of the loss. It sits in my sternum, a hole that grows smaller with time, but not just yet.
I fall into a depressed state for most of my first semester but my dormmate doesn’t give up on me and eventually I go to my first uni party. Eventually my brain fog clears and I actually go to all my classes. Eventually my life, on the outside, looks like it could be back to normal but inside I ache with the loss. So much that it becomes part of me. I don’t know where it ends, and I begin. It lives in me.
Age 23.
“The first of many hey?” Mal clinks his bottle to mine. I barely knew Mal but we were both friends with Khalil and therefore both at his stag.
“Before you know it we’re all going down,” one of Khalil’s friends joins in. “Stag after stag, suit after suit, it’s gonna be a blur man.”
“Let’s enjoy it while we can!” Someone cheers and everyone raises their beers. I toast with a smile; blokes loved to act like being in a relationship was the last thing they wanted when I knew most of them were mush in their girlfriend’s hands.
I also smile knowing I bought an engagement ring a few weeks back. I wanted to propose to Shannon, we met on her 22 when a friend invited me along. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the birthday girl. We’d been together since.
“Who do you think’s next?” The bets start going and nobody bets on me. Everyone always thought Shan was too good for me, they were counting on us breaking up. I was going to prove them all wrong.
The night gets sloppier until we all head back to the air bnb we’d rented for this. Tomorrow we were all supposed to go play golf like we were cosplaying old money bastards when we all knew we were just broke blokes from East. But I guaranteed they’d all be too hungover. We would get to the club and just drink the hangovers away.
And I’m right. I update Shan that I’m right when the boys stay in the dining area of the club. They decide on lunch and I step out to talk to my girlfriend.
“No birds allowed this weekend,” someone pipes in when I excuse myself.
“That’s just cuz you’re miserable Eli.” I brush past as the boys laugh. At me. And him.
I catch up with Shan. It was a bright day for September and I stay a little longer after the phone ends. Shan was in med school, she was always stressed or sleep deprived. I tried to support her the best I could—right now she needed moral support that she was going to get an internship she was applying for.
“Mummy doesn’t like when I have sweets,” a small voice says to my left. I look at a father with his daughter. He’s crouched down zipping her sweater up while she rambles on.
“Well it’s going to be our secret.” The dad says. “Sundays are for sweets aren’t they?”
“I love sweets.” She responds.
The father catches my eye and I shoot him a smile.
“Her mum’s going to hear every detail when we get home,” he says as he stands. “Can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
I laugh. The way she was rambling on, I didn’t think so. “How old’s she?”
“6.” He says, smiling down at her fondly. My heart aches.
“Almost 7.” She corrects her dad.
“Birthday’s in the spring.” He says more to me. “But almost 7 sure.”
I see them leave with one more shared smile, like we’re in on something. I imagine that’s how it would feel to be a parent. Always knowing something your kid doesn’t.
My daughter was 6. Wherever she was.
Thinking about the daughter I never had, the girl I lost always leaves me a little winded. Today’s no different.
Yn and I both made an agreement and it had been the hardest thing I’d done. Letting her go. It took me a proper year to even think about moving on.
I liked to think about yn, doing everything she wanted to do. But when I thought about the baby I spiralled into a dark pit. Sometimes when I drank too much, it pulled me in too deep to get out of. That’s what Shan liked to call my depressive drinking. She’s limited me to 3 drinks since.
Before I go in I take a minute to think about yn, where she might be. I hear from friends in high school random facts about her life. But I wonder how she’s doing. If she thinks about our baby like I do. How life would have been if I’d been here, calling her on the phone instead, asking if our baby girl was doing alright.
Age 29.
I stare at the nape of the man in front of me. It couldn’t be, but I’d memorized the back of his head—amongst other things, nearly 2 decades ago and I would bet £1000 I knew who this was. But I continue staring until the cashier rings him up.
In the same voice I remember, the one from my memories and my fantasies, I hear him say: “debit.”
I wait for him to pay before saying, “Harry?”
He turns so quickly he drops his card, wallet, and keys.
“Hi!” I laugh awkwardly and crouch down to help him pick his things up. There’s an awareness that the people in the queue behind me are witness to a moment that feels more intimate than a grocery store chat and it makes me shrink a little in my shell like a spooked turtle.
“Hi I-uh,” Harry short-circuits in front of me as the bored cashier holds his receipt out and stares at him with eyes that have worked one shift too many.
“I’ll just bag-“
“Yeah we can talk later.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it feels watery. I couldn’t believe of all the places I’d run into him, it was a grocery queue. How intense in such a mundane place.
As I watch my total rise on screen I risk a glance at Harry. His hand hovers over a white reusable bag, I wonder if that was his. Or his wife’s. If they did their weekly shop in a mismatch of bags that looked like that or they were the type of couple to have a set.
His eyes are on me though, somehow here and not here. I feel the same way.
I look back to the cashier asking me how I was paying. She glances between Harry and I. I don’t look back at him. Or the growing queue a few feet away.
I take my groceries—just some items my mum asked me to pick up, and stuff them into the tote I’m wearing. Harry waits for me by the exit.
“Hi.” He says as his eyes scan my face. I do the same, taking in all the ways time had spent with him. It must have been good—he looked good. “I can’t believe-“
“A Whole Foods of all places.” I laugh. A grin splits his face but his eyes stay on me.
“That smile, that laugh. God I’ve missed you.”
“I…missed you too.” How I could miss someone I’d known for one year and then never again for nearly two decades…I didn’t realize it was possible until now.
“Are you busy?” He asks. “Maybe we can grab a drink or?”
“I don’t…drink.” I hated that I had to announce it to people. I was still at the stage where I was figuring out how to say it confidently, or find a way around saying it.
“Oh.” Harry glances down at my belly and I realize he’d misunderstood but it’s too unspoken to correct him. “Cafe?”
“Yeah. That sounds lovely.” Honestly going anywhere with him sounded lovely right now. I wanted to cancel all my plans for the day and just sit with him. Stare at him and catch up. I couldn’t believe he was here.
We walk in a comfortable but waiting silence, like taking a cold drink out to a park with the anticipation it’s going to be good , and no desperation to open it as soon as you get it.
“Usual? Tea?” Harry asks when we step into a nearby cafe. It’s big for a cafe but has enough students working on laptops to not feel empty. I nod, unsure how to feel that Harry still knows what I order at a cafe. Or that my order hasn’t changed since 17.
I find us a booth and pretty soon he’s sliding into the seat across from me. The two of us can’t stop smiling.
“Hi,” he says again.
“Hi…”
“You look good, the same but better.”
“I was going to say the same thing about you!” I exclaim. More smiling.
“How’s…I mean, how are you? How is everything? What-“
“There’s so much to ask-“
“I don’t even know how to ask what I want to know!” Harry laughs and I’m warmed from the inside out at the sound of it.
“This shouldn’t be hard!”
“No.” He scrubs his face. “I’m really buzzing that we’ve run into each other.”
“Me too. It’s a bit unbelievable.”
“I know.” He continues gripping his cup and not taking his eyes off of me. It’s the exact way he used to look at me when we were teenagers. It nearly takes my breath away. “You look good—but I already said that. Sorry.”
“No,” I laugh. “That’s all that’s running through my head.”
“Oh—I remember hearing you were engaged a few years ago-“
“Yeah.” I turn my hand so he can see the ring. “Married now. You?”
“Yeah,” he looks down at his own hand. He had so many rings on I couldn’t tell from a glance. “Coming up to 5 years now.”
“Wow. It’s only 1.5 for me but Tatum and I—my husband, we’d been since uni.”
“Took him a while.”
“Mhm,” it had been a sore subject way back then. Harry says it casually but he studies my face. I know he wants to ask more but he’ll politely maneuver around it.
“Are you happy?”
I let out a breath. “That’s more complicated than anything else you could ask!”
“Is it?”
“Yeah I-“ I shrug. “I don’t know if I am. But I also have no idea what I could do about it. So. There’s that.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” My stomach curdles with his words. I didn’t want pity, least of all from Harry. Harry. I can’t believe he was here. “I get it though. Everyone says your 30s are even more glorious than your 20s. We’ll see soon enough if they’re right.”
I meet his eye, they always intimidated me to look too long into. Even now, I glance back down at my drink. When I look up again he has a wry smile twisting his lips. He knew.
I was sorry to hear life hadn’t been as good for him. And then I understand, it wasn’t pity he was giving me. He truly was sorry like I.
I thought about Harry often. Of course I did. I liked to imagine him living out his dreams like he always talked about. I liked to imagine him happy and thriving.
“Do you ever think about us?” I have to ask. “If we did it all differently?”
“We would have had a 12 year old with us.”
Hearing him say it feels like someone had taken a screwdriver and opened me up. Raw and exposed. But looking at him I know he thought about her as much as I had. Both of us were apparently mourning a future neither of us had fought for.
“Yeah,” I breathe but I just sound winded.
“We were trying, at one point—Shan and I.” Harry fiddles with his ring. “Did all the tests and the trials and the shite. But no kids. It put a real strain on my relationship. I think we cracked instead of bending. And I don’t think either of us know how to make it right again.”
I grasp his hand and squeeze. “I know what that’s like. It’s hard. I…a couple years ago. I lost a baby. A baby boy. I felt like it was a punishment for-“
“Don’t.”
We hold onto each other, our drinks long forgotten. He holds my hand and it feels like being known again, like I wasn’t such an awful person. That someone could see everything I’ve done and still choose to have love for me.
“I’m sorry.” He tells me.
“Me too.” I bite my lip. With a sigh I let him go and lean back. Here we’d been so excited to bump into each other but we’d both been carrying sorrow and grief. It wasn’t very hopeful.
“So I guess you’re not drinking because you’re-“
“No.” I say, surprisingly without feeling awkward. “I’m just sober right now. Trying to figure out life without a drink.”
“Sounds like torture but I respect that. Sounds hard.”
“It was at first. I like the feeling now of thinking clearly. But I miss a glass of wine I do sometimes.”
We smile at each other.
“So do you live around here?” Harry broaches talking again after both of us had lapsed into silence for a while. I blink away the fog of the past.
“Yeah. You?”
“Nah. Shan’s out of town and I was feeling lonely. Came over to visit my sister. I’m just staying with her for the week.”
“Lucky me then.” I smile.
“Lucky me too.” He smiles back. It’s soft. We’re soft. It felt impossible to me after all this time the tenderness was still the strongest thing between us.
We chat a bit more, much about nothing. What we did for a job, anyone we still kept in touch with from school. Nothing that meant a lot.
“I need to head off now,” I say when my phone buzzes for a second time. “I was on my way to my mum’s. She keeps calling me.”
“Yeah. Don’t want to keep you.” Harry says but he stays seated. So do I.
We continue just studying the other until my phone rings again and I laugh. “It was…I really loved seeing you.”
I slide out and Harry mirrors me. I still come to his chest, he still smells the same and stands the same and looks just as handsome.
“How about uhm, how about dinner some time?” Harry asks. I knew it was coming, it’s still painful saying no.
“I…can’t. I…we can’t just do dinner, can we?”
“No,” Harry bows his head. We had too much history to just do dinner. From what he said—and I knew, both our lives were too complicated to add the allure of each other into the mix. I couldn’t do that to my life as tempted as I was. Especially not sober.
“Yeah.” He stands straight again and gives me space to head to the door. “Good seeing you. Give your mum my best if she doesn’t hate me.”
“She doesn’t.” I assure him. We stand awkwardly not sure if a kiss, a hug, or a wave was appropriate. We settle for a hug.
I remember the last time I was enveloped in his arms, tucked away into his tall frame. When we said goodbye forever, agreed to live our best lives separately. We’d both been too scarred to be anything together. Too much grief.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harry smiles at me when we part.
“Maybe,” I say knowing full well I wouldn’t do groceries on the weekend anymore.
With a final wave we both part ways again, this time it doesn’t feel as much like closure.
Age 35.
“Graduation’s graduating, what a mouthful.” I say to Andie. We sit in the parking lot of a local pub back home. Both of us had avoided reunions after going to the first one 10 years ago and being reminded of how much people liked to remind you of who you used to be. But this year Andie found out an old flame was going and single. And this is the first year I saw that Harry had checked off going. So we’d decided to go together.
I could have easily reached out to him. Asked him about meeting up there. But I didn’t want to come across any way. I remember our run-in 6 years ago. We felt the same way—we would do anything for each other, and I didn’t want any affect over him coming. Last I heard he was still in a relationship. Just cuz I was didn’t mean I had to ruin another.
“Okay. We going in?” Andie passes me her flask.
I’d taken to drinking again. Originally I stopped after a particularly bad night when I was 28. It nearly cost me my wedding back then.
I stopped to get sober. To feel what it felt like not to rely on alcohol to keep from feeling my emotions. I had a lot of grief I never processed. And unfortunately being sober, and processing the grief and depression, had ultimately cost me my marriage. But I was better for it. I knew what unconditional love and support was. I didn’t want to settle for someone who only loved me at my best.
Now I felt in control when I drank. I knew when to stop.
“Let’s go!”
“Do you think he’ll remember me?” Andie asks as we walk up to the place.
“You comment on so many of his posts. I think he does.” I tease.
“Gah. It would have saved me so much heartbreak if I just told him back 18 years ago how I felt.”
“Maybe,” I think about my confessed love 18 years ago and the heartbreak that ensued.
“Well at least I would have gotten him outta my system. Oh god I see him-“
“Hi ladies,” we’re stopped near the front and given name tags, making small talk with the girls working the booth. I vaguely remember them from a club but I have to read their name tags to pretend I remembered them at all.
Andie ditches me pretty quickly but I don’t mind. I find some friends I saw a couple times a year. Guess this was the couple time this year.
The whole time my eyes scan the room. People had brought their partners and I wondered if Harry would do the same. Deep down, I prayed he didn’t. I just wanted to see him.
I spot him halfway through the night. He’s leaning against the bar talking to Khalil. I remembered they used to be friends, he was always nice to me while Harry and I dated.
I watch him talk and drink. I lose him for a bit and then catch him leaving. Shite.
I excuse myself and rush out but nearly trip over myself slowing down. He was just outside for a smoke break.
“When did that habit start?” I ask. He nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Fu-y/n you scared me.” He shakes his face dramatically, like he’s getting something off of it. I bite back a smile, he was pretty drunk. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you came to these things?”
“I don’t.” I correct him. I couldn’t tell him I came for him. “It was just the name of this reunion, Graduation’s graduating. How could I pass it up?”
This earns a laugh. Eases the air between us. “Did you see Oli in there? He’s gotten bald.”
“He looks like his dad actually,” I remember his dad was always coming to Oli’s football matches, screaming at his son to run faster.
“Glad you didn’t end up with him?” Harry smirks.
“Oh yeah. I heard last reunion he just kept going up for the karaoke sober. If I want my bloke to embarrass me, at least give him the excuse of being drunk.”
“Shit,” Harry laughs. “I remember that! I remember! Wish I could forget!”
I laugh with him. “Harry you’re getting pretty close to drunk yourself.”
“Ah yeah. More than 3 drinks that, I’m being naughty tonight.”
I scrunch my nose, no idea what he’s talking about.
“I can’t believe you’re here tonight,” Harry says again. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another 12 years after our last time.”
“Thought I’d halve the time.” I watch Harry squash out the butt.
“Glad you did.” He looks at me and I’m 17 again. Why couldn’t we both be single? Why did I come here knowing I couldn’t have him.
Maybe I was as masochistic as the person who invented maths.
“Yn?” A voice calls out to me. “Oi! It is you I thought I was dreaming you up! What a sight!”
I’d been avoiding Oli all night. Not anymore.
I glance at Harry and he hides a smirk. Oli notices Harry then and his face hardens a little.
“Oli! Long time!” I go in for the hug he’s reaching for, unsure why he was so sweaty on an autumn night. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he grins at me. “You look good! Not a day over 25.”
“Don’t flatter me Oli,” I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to get you anything.”
“I’m not looking! I swear it!” He says earnestly. “I’m just paying you a compliment. It’s good to see you. Hey, I’m actually in a good relationship. Gonna propose to her.”
“Are you? What’s she like?”
I stand in the brisk evening as Oli tells me about his girlfriend. I’m happy for him, what we had in high school wasn’t really a relationship but I never wished him bad. He was a good guy, I was glad he found his person.
I change the subject when he asks about my love life, tell him I was getting cold. We head back in and I tell him I’d catch up to him later. I’d lost Harry and wanted to find him again. I had more I wanted to talk about.
“Khalil,” I interrupt him playing pool. He goes in for a hug and I engage in polite small talk until I tire of it. “I’m looking for Harry.”
“Of course you are,” he wags a finger at me. “I saw him leaving ten minutes ago?”
“Jeez really?” I couldn’t believe I missed him! After coming here just for him. Maybe he had to get home, maybe he had a kid by now. Had to tuck him in.
“He’s not doing so well since the divorce-“
“What?” I stare at Khalil like he’s spoken gibberish. Why hadn’t I heard about that?
“Ehm yeah. He’s pretty private about it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. He’s been separated a few years now but he just signed the papers a couple weeks ago. I dunno. He gets kinda depressed around this time of year. Probably the weather.”
It was September. It wasn’t the weather.
I had to find him.
I brush past the people I went to school with. I followed Harry outside to a roof 17 years ago and today I follow him out to find him again. We needed to talk.
I look both ways, hoping for a miracle.
I spot a figure slumped on the far end of the road. I recognize the church, it was where we went every Easter and Christmas growing up.
I walk towards the figure until I can make out the hair. It was Harry. Thank god.
“Why’d you leave?” I ask him when he looks up to my approaching footsteps.
“I drank too much,” he hangs his head again. I sit beside him.
“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry.”
Harry shrugs. “We separated a while ago. It was coming for a long time.”
“Yeah. Still.” I say.
We sit in silence, the only sound is our breathing and the faint noises from the pub down the road.
“She’s in her last year by now.” I say without further explanation. I know he’d know.
“Our baby’s 17.”
Our baby? I feel choked up. All these years we’d been apart, built our own lives, and there was still an our even when there hadn’t been.
“It’s always been us hasn’t it?” Harry says. “Nobody understands.”
“They couldn’t. We were so young, making such a big decision.”
“Oh y/n.” He leans into me and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. He’s cold, his jacket pooled on the steps around him. I gather it to spread over his shoulder but he stops me. “How much heartbreak can you have in one lifetime?”
I sit, aching for the pain Harry was going through. Knowing it was mirrored in me.
“I’ve had enough for a lifetime. I know that.”
“Me too.” Harry sighs. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” I intertwine our hands. They still fit the exact same, all these years later. I examine them, but they looked the same too. I wonder if our baby girl ever looked at her hands, wondered who she inherited them from.
“D’you think she thinks about us?” Harry asks what I’m thinking.
“Maybe.” I say. “I like to think so. I just hope she doesn’t hate us for giving her up.”
“Yeah me too I think…” he hangs his head. I hear him sniffle. Seems like Harry hit the point of drinking where all you could feel is regret. I remember those days. I knew where he was.
When he doesn’t finish his sentence I fill the silence; “Me and Tatum split uh…four years ago now.” I update him. “You probably heard something about it. I remember my mum saying she ran into yours when it was happening. They probably talked all about it.”
I wait for Harry to give confirmation but he stays the way he is.
“I went sober a few years before then. Almost ruined our wedding cuz I was exactly where you were. Unprocessed grief and all I could do was drink about it. I’d given up a baby at 18, then lost a baby a decade later. It feels silly to say out loud, that something that never really came into this world—something the size of a fruit could act like the rock you push up the hill every morning. The grief you fight at your darkest times. How could we be haunted by something that didn’t even exist—not technically. But that’s just the way it was. And that’s the way it had to be when we were 18. I’m not always sure I made the right decision overall but I know it was a decision we had to make at the time. I’ve had to find my peace. So do you Harry.”
“Yeah. I-I have to. Y’know? Sometimes I wonder if I would have made her proud.” Harry sniffles. I had similar thoughts. My throat feels tight remembering. “I don’t think, right now, I would be.”
“She’s so loved. She is so loved Harry. Whatever…wherever she is.”
“I love you.” Harry turns to me. His face is raw with grief and emotion. “Never stopped loving you. But I don’t want to give you this version of me.”
“I’ll take any version of you Harry.” I reassure him. “I think we’ve seen too much of each other to be able to hide anything away.”
He tips forward slowly until his head rests on my chest. I hold him there, just like he’d done for me so many years ago. I tell him the type of thing that meant everything to me back then and I hope it helps him to hear it: “We’ll get through this Harry.”
***
“I don’t remember getting here.”
I look up from my book, Harry stands in my kitchen with a confused look on his face. It was weird seeing him here in my flat. But it was so right too.
“We walked home. I thought you sobered up.”
“Nuh-uh.” He takes a few steps towards me, hesitant.
“Coffee?”
“Maybe I’ll take a shower first?”
“First door on your right. Extra towels in the cupboard.”
“Thanks.”
We look at one another for a beat before he moves back. I make another pot of coffee and clean up from breakfast while he showers.
Next time he walks back in he looks a lot better. Smells nice too.
“Black please.” He says when I hold the coffee up.
I pour him a cup and watch him sip it.
“Thank you for last night.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him.
“I remember what you said to me. You’re right of course. I think I knew it, I just didn’t have anyone to talk to about it with. Nobody knew about us…”
“You didn’t have to keep it a secret ‘til this day Harry.” I was surprised he had. “You didn’t even tell any of your friends?”
“The only people who knew were my family, a-and Shan. But. Year after year it didn’t mean the same thing to her. I stopped talking to her about it pretty quickly. Think it made it worse because her and I couldn’t actually…”
“Yeah.” I understood.
“But I realized. I think it was losing both of you. I feel like you were taken away too. We just went from being around each other all the time to cold turkey. That was a loss too so…”
“Yeah.” Again, I understood.
“I’m 35. I’ve gotta…get my head on straight.”
I examine him. “Looks okay to me?”
He smiles and puts his cup down.
“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”
“Meh that was years ago. Hard then. Fine now. For the best.”
“I agree,” Harry moves around the table to stand where I am. My heart pulses just like it always does around him. He rests a hand on my hip, dragging it up to wrap around my waist. He must feel how hard my heart’s beating. “Did I tell you? That I love you?”
“Maybe?” I feel myself growing more present. The hole that always lived inside of me growing even smaller in this moment. It allows me to settle on the floor better; less air, more weight.
“Well I do. I love you. At 17, or at 35.” He says this with a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Well. I love you.” I return the kiss, relish in the way his hand grips my tank. “At 17, or 35.”
“Sometimes I wish I held on tighter at 17. But I look at you now and I’m excited to get to know you again.”
His words pour over me like honey. It was sweet we were still on the same page.
“I’m not letting you go this time.” Harry whispers in my ear. He pulls me in tight, swaying from side to side. “I want to spend 41 and 50 with you. I want all of you, every side.”
“Perfect,” I peer up at him. “That’s exactly what I want too.”
“And maybe one day,” he continues in a hush voice. “We’ll get a call from a young girl. She’ll tell us all about her life in a town up north. About a picture she has of her mother dressed like her father and her father dressed like her mother.”
“She’ll tell us she’s had a good life, and she’s thought about the people in the picture. She’d tell us she wants to meet them.”
“We would be able to show her the love we kept for her. Our love’s like a venn diagram, the bit in the middle is just for her. She’d know why she was born in the first place.”
“Closure,” I whisper to him. “We would know closure.”
I remember the day she was taken, how the loss of not even being able to see her felt bigger than the loss of her itself back then.
I think of a 17 year old girl, with green eyes and brown hair. With my smile and Harry’s dimples. My hands, and Harry’s height. She was loved by people, families, that she didn’t even know existed yet.
They say if you love something, let it go. If it’s meant to be it’ll come back.
As Harry and I stay intertwined in the kitchen of my flat, I send out a wish into the universe for her like I did most days. That she was healthy, happy, and one day curious enough to seek us out. That one day, she would come back.
Right now I focus on the man in my arms. The one I never thought I’d get to hold again. For now this was all I needed. I’d loved him, let him go, and after so many years apart, we were back.
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bradshawsbitch · 1 year
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sweet as honey | bob floyd x f!reader
this is can be read as a continuation of my valentines challenge song fic 'best friend'!
this is based on an idea that @sebsxphia elaborated on as one of their lovely nonnys asked about bob practicing eating out on you😵‍💫 thanks for letting me write this out, seb!🫶
disclaimer; in my head, bob floyd is pussy eating king™ and i felt it was my civic duty to tell you all about it. man has been obsessed with it since he first saw a spread in a porn mag about it, and he'll be damned if he doesn't find out exactly what you like.
warnings; best friends to lovers, mentions of intoxication, cunnilingus, pussy drunk bob, afab reader, no use of y/n.
plot; you have always needed bob, but what if he forgets the one time he actually had you?
tagging people who might like; @lewmagoo @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @theharddeck @mothdruid @bobfloydsbabe @roleycoleyreccenter
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Soft whispers of love confessions had turned to sleepy reminiscing as darkness fell outside of the window, starlight and moonshine illuminating the outlines of two bodies intertwined in between pristine white sheets. Bob had never thought that he would ever experience feeling so at peace and so whole - the way he had somehow always felt when you were around. This was different though, he felt like he’d finally come home after years of wandering around. 
Even better, he had managed to make it out alive after the worst mission he’s ever flown. He had made it back to you. They had done it. The adrenaline should be overwhelming him, the emotional toil should be tearing at his insides - he should feel like a monster lurks inside his chest ready to claw and tear at his chest - but he doesn’t.
Bob only feels the soothing hands running over his face, only feels the soft breath ghosting over his face as words of love sink into his very skin. Only hears your soft giggles and your emotional voice telling him you loved him. You loved him. God, the very notion made Bob dizzy.
His larger hands had settled on your waist, his thumb softly ghosting over the same warm spot again and again. A couple of times he had noticed the motion had elicited goosebumps over your skin, and if he squeezed his hand slightly he sometimes felt you shiver.
It drove him mad. How responsive you were to his touch. He wondered if he could make your breath hitch, if he could have sweet, soft sounds spilling from your parted lips if he let his hands and lips roam all over your body. 
In his mind, there were… fuzzy memories, that he was not entirely sure if they were memories, or just a recollection of a wet dream his teen self had conjured up of you. Either way, the details were rather blurry, but his mind was replaying soft sighs… your soft moans for him. It must have been a dream.
“Do you–” you trailed off uncertainly, voice still barely above a whisper “Do you remember that one night when we were 18?” Bob furrowed his brows at the way you avoided his attempts at eye contact, stubbornly keeping your face nuzzled into his neck.
“Darlin’, we spent many nights together when we were 18…” Bob smiled, letting his thumb brush softly across your cheek “You’ll have to give me a little more,” his voice was low as he tried to coax you into making eye contact with him again. Craning his neck to try to observe your face as you laid on top of his chest.
“You were drunk, I think - didn’t seem like it at the time…” you trailed off, again, Bob smiled softly, letting his palm stroke soothingly up and down your back.
“Unfortunately, I was drunk many nights back then too, Sunny. What is it you’re nervous to tell me?” 
“Do you remember going down on me?” Bob’s eyes had fluttered shut some time ago, shot wide open at that sentence - jumbled flashes of sounds and sensations flooding his mind. 
“Oh… oh god, that wasn’t— that wasn’t a wet dream?” Bob could kill himself. Could actually go back to the Super Hornet and try to do what Phoenix does with all of that pilot shit until he ran himself into the damn ground. 
“You mean to tell me… that I have had the immense honor of having my fuckin’ face buried between your legs and it was not a dream?” he heard your nervous giggles, and groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, before shuffling so that you were lying beside him, looking into your eyes - they looked apprehensive, perhaps a little bashful. 
“I am so sorry, darlin’... I truly- I had no idea– I thought that was just one of many dreams my imagination conjured up about you,” Bob murmured, brows pinched together “Did I hurt your feelings terribly?” he never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to be the reason you shed any tears or felt any discomfort.
“I mean - I wasn’t sure, I mean I wanted you to, God, it’s all I ever wanted after it too! But I guess I was a bit upset a little while after when you never brought it up…” you trailed off, fingers tracing intricate swirls on his sternum, gaze following your finger carefully, avoiding his eyes. 
“Sunny…” Bob spoke softly, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him, searching your eyes before slowly letting his lips connect with yours, warmth spreading between the both of you as your lips moved together languidly. 
“Will you please tell me about it?” murmuring against your lips, Bob wanted to see if your story could jog his memory of the first time he apparently ate you out. 
He felt your lips quirk into a smile, before you broke away, nuzzling your face into his neck, where you placed soft, wet kisses that had his breath hitching, a small, soft moan leaving his lips as yours latched on to suck softly at his pulse point.
“Well… I asked you…” 
It was late, the party had ended almost an hour ago, and you and Bob were lounging around in your childhood bedroom, walls covered in a soft pink - and your forgotten stuffed animals placed on bookshelves that were filled to the brim with books you’d read in your early teens. You’d told your mom several times you wanted to get rid of them, but she insisted that your younger sister might want them now that you were 18. 
Bob was sprawled on the floor, chuckling softly at something he read in a women’s magazine you’d bought last week. 
“What’s so funny, Robby?” you spoke softly from your bed, having laid down on the plush blankets and covers that were bunched in the middle of it. You’d stayed sober this night, wanting to make sure Robert made it home safe. 
“They’re… dead wrong about some of these like ‘tricks to tell your boyfriend to do in bed’ stuff,” Robby replied, amused, twinkling eyes finding yours as you looked at him quizzically. “Oh yeah, think you know better than the women who wrote the article, Floyd?” 
“Mm, I know I do. These women can’t have gotten good head if their best tip is to ‘tell him to spell the alphabet with his tongue’,” he scoffed before closing the magazine with a shrug. Licking your lips, you took in his lanky form spread out on your carpet, tight, black jeans sitting low on his hips - just giving you a peak of the grey boxers underneath. 
“What do you think, huh, Sunny? Is that the best tip you’d give a lover?” he was smirking now as he looked up at you. Biting your lower lip, you shrugged “I don’t know…” 
“Well, what’s felt the best when someone’s gone down on you then?” you were sure Rob could tell that heat had rushed to your cheeks and neck, warming your body as you avoided his gaze. 
“I– no one’s ever made me cum with their mouth. They just wanna– get to the other stuff, y’know?” you hedged, finally looking at his blue eyes. His brows were furrowed, almost completely disappearing behind his horn rimmed glasses. “What do you mean?” his words were only a little slurred now, and he seemed more alert than he had been all night. 
“I mean, most guys I’ve been with have been reluctant to you know… go down! They stay there for a little while and then sort of– deem you ‘ready’ for the important part, I guess,” you shrugged, as if this was universally known. Your girlfriends had all agreed with you, most of their boyfriends would only use their hands, or if they had to they’d be down there for a couple of minutes before wanting to get their dicks wet instead. 
“That’s fucking insane!” Robby exclaimed, and you shushed him swiftly, not wanting him to wake your mother and father. “That’s fucking insane!” he stage whispered, making you giggle, as he made his way over to your bed, sitting down on the end of it. His palm wrapped around one of your ankles, slowly letting his thumb rub circles at the exposed skin there.
“Sunny… do you mean to tell me, you’ve never been given oral until you’ve cum?” Robert wouldn’t let you look away, and maybe you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to, his blue eyes were so captivating… so beautiful. Shaking your head, you looked up from beneath your lashes at him. 
“Do you want to?” Robby murmured, and you found yourself nodding before you could think twice about it. You’d always wanted Robby, always needed him. Craved his touch. And now he was offering it to you. “Sunny, you let me know what feels good, okay? I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s genuine sounds of pleasure, okay?” Rob’s voice was breathless as he leaned in to place fluttering kisses along your neck.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against your skin and you nodded as your eyelids fluttered closed, a small exhale leaving you as Bob’s frame hovered over yours after having gently laid you back against the pillows. 
“Good, I’m gonna take your jeans off now, okay, sweets?” you appreciated that he was talking you through it, as if he instinctively just knew you - knew your very inner workings, even if he was a little intoxicated. 
“Doin’ so good for me, Sunny… so pretty,” he sighed as he took in the cute pattern of your lacy thong. You’d only recently started wearing them, and found yourself happy that you chose baby blue ones - ones that when Rob gazed at them made you want to clench your thighs together at the groan he let out at the sight. 
“No, baby - open for me, that’s it - gotta keep your legs spread for me, pretty girl,” the blond hummed before settling between your legs, your panties still in place, which confused you a little. “Relax, honey,” he murmured as he kissed your inner thigh, his strong hands gently massaging your thighs. His lips explored the soft skin of your inner thighs, making you squirm each time his hot breath came closer to your core.
There was an ache there now, and ache you had never felt with any previous partner. An ache so deep, so strong, that an involuntary whimper left you as you tried to grind down, desperately needing your best friend to touch you.
“Baby… Sunny, you’re soaked for me… made these pretty light blue panties a nice navy, hm?” Bob groaned, pressing his nose against your clothed pussy, inhaling before placing soft kisses on your mound and gently against your covered clit, eliciting a soft mewl from you.
“Smell fuckin’ heavenly, babe - probably taste even better,” Bob groaned, and as you looked down, you could see him shuffling his body around, one of his legs now tucked a little higher than the one that was stretched out below him. 
“Still feelin’ okay up there, honey?” he murmured, looking up at you. Licking your lips you could only manage a pathetic ‘uh-huh’ in confirmation as Bob’s fingers pushed beneath your panties to drag up and down your wet slit. 
“Robby!” a breathless whine tore from you as the pads of his fingers gently pressed against your clit, before slowly dragging down to your opening and back again. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet… god,” Bob groaned, bucking his hips into the mattress once before he pushed the baby blue fabric of your underwear to the side to push his face closer to your cunt. His nose nudged at your lips, and you gasped as he let his pointed tongue tease the seam of your lips, his low moan at tasting you making your own hips buck slightly. 
“Robby, please - oh!” you hadn’t finished your sentence before Rob licked a broad stripe from your core to your clit, where he gently laved his tongue over it, over and over again. Breathing hard, small, pathetic noises left you, your hands clutching at the covers beneath them - before you let one hand tangle itself in Bob’s blond tresses, tugging in time with his licks and suckles on your clit. 
The hand that wasn’t holding your hips down sought yours out, and as Bob blindly found your hand, he intertwined your fingers for him to hold as he experimentally swirled his tongue around your entrance. He glanced up at you briefly, and seeing you panting and letting out soft mewls for him, he decided to try to let his tongue fuck into your wet hole. He’d seen in the various videos he’d studied that it drove some of the women wild, whilst some preferred getting only their clit stimulated.
As Bob fucked his tongue into your opening, you saw stars, a delirious and loud moan leaving you as your upper body shot up slightly - tugging harshly on his hair before biting your lips to keep quiet. As the muscle slipped in and out of you, shallowly at first and then deeper and more frantically the more Bob could tell you liked it, you noticed the bed was rocking slightly. Looking down, you could see Robby grinding his hips hard into your mattress, his own moans soaked up by your dripping cunt. 
“Fuck, never want to leave… this fucking beautiful pussy,” Robby was whining, licking, laving, sucking on your clit before fucking his tongue into your hole again, making you moan, gasp and whimper beneath him.
“Rob, baby, fuck - I– I’m so fucking close, feels so good– you feel so good!” you were gasping for air as Rob slurped and sucked at your cunt, seemingly lost in his own pleasure as well, rutting his hips hard and fast against your covers. 
“Fuck, please give it to me Sunny, give it all to me - fuck, wanna have you on my tongue…” Robert murmured laving his tongue over your clit, suckling it gently into his mouth before fucking his tongue into you repeatedly.
With a cry and a harsh tug on your best friends hair, you came undone in the most earth-shattering way - never in your eighteen years had you felt like this, had never felt so safe and taken care of as you did with your best friends face pressed deep in between your legs, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing he was doing on this earth.
A long, drawn out moan could be heard as Bob continued to lick you through your orgasm, seemingly reaching his own high at the same time you did as his hips stuttered and jerked against the mattress. 
“How was that, honey?” Bob murmured as he kissed and licked your inner thighs clean, languidly letting his tongue roam over your core, seemingly not having gotten enough of you. A soft whine fell from your lips as you squirmed a little, feeling sensitive after having cum so hard. Rob chuckled softly before placing a kiss to your pussy, and resting his head against one of your thighs, his hand still held yours as he removed his glasses, placing them beside the two of you. He had his eyes closed, positioning your legs comfortably around his form, his other hand splaying on your lower abdomen under your shirt. 
As his breathing evened out, so did yours. You stayed that way most of the night, before you woke up as the sun rose to illuminate your room, and you moved to close the drapes and go to the bathroom, to wash away the traces of Bob’s love. 
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“Oh god…” Bob groaned as you finished telling the story. Smiling, you placed a soft kiss on his lips “It’s still the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you confessed with a shrug, as your best friend wrapped his arms tighter around you with a groan. 
“Fuck, don’t tell me that Sunny… you’re drivin’ me wild… y’mean to tell me I’ve known my whole life what you taste like? What those soft little sighs, moans and whimpers sound like? The ones I’ve dreamt off as I’ve laid in my damn bunk missing you?” you could only laugh softly under your breath “M’afraid so, honey,” you stroked the back of your hand against his cheek. 
“Would I ever be allowed that privilege again, baby?” Bob purred against your ear, nibbling softly at the lobe before placing a chaste kiss just beneath it. 
“Oh, I definitely think that can be arranged…” you smirked, gently taking your bottom lip between your teeth as Bob again rolled the two of you so you were on top of him. 
“Excellent, darlin’... but this time, I want you on top…”
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angel-kyo · 3 months
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Pay it no mind
Part X
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX
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You sprinted out of the cafeteria after Satoru and called his name once his back was on sight.
Gojo immediately stopped walking but did not turn around. He had not expected you to come after him, but it would be a lie to say he was not glad you had. After not seeing much of you all week, and although it had been his fault for proactively escaping any room as soon as you entered it, he was missing you.
Why was he avoiding you? It was hard to put in words. Call it instincts, but for some reason, he started walking in the opposite direction as soon as he saw you for the first time after that last Saturday together, and then he just kept doing it. Maybe it had been an attempt at keeping things okay between you two. If he left things still, they would not worsen, right?
Wrong.
“You really walk fast.” He knew you were right behind him now, so he turned to face you.
You were slightly out of breath due to rushing after him, but Satoru thought you looked adorable. He had gotten into the habit of scolding himself after having such kind of thoughts about you, but he let it slip this time. There is nothing wrong with me thinking that if it’s true, he reasoned.
He gave you a smile. “My stride is just larger than yours.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” It was good to see him. Just having him in front of you made you feel better. “Can we talk?”
“I’m all ears.” He was keeping a more reserved smile and less cheerful demeanor than usual. You recognized that behavior immediately; it was a facade, and you knew he would maintain it as long as there were students and colleagues around. If you wanted him to drop the act, you needed to talk to him in a more private place.
You grabbed Satoru’s wrist and pulled him to a different part of the school.
While you led him on, Gojo thought of how you had never held hands in public. Sure, anyone would raise an eyebrow at how the strongest sorcerer was letting himself be dragged around like that. If he held your hand as he was used to, that would definitely give people the wrong impression.
I couldn't care less about what they think, though.
You led him into an empty classroom. “Here is okay, I think.”
Satoru looked around and smirked. “Are you trying to talk me into something shady, [name]?”
You smiled. No, I’m trying to make you loosen up a bit.
“That depends. How shady is it that my best friend is avoiding me?” He opened his mouth again, but no words came out.
Satoru did not really have the guts to lie to you, but he did not think he could tell you what was going on inside his head or his heart now either.
You continued when he did not say anything. “Are you mad at me?”
After replaying that last Saturday a hundred times in your head, you believed he had not acted like himself, but he had not said anything concluding either.
“I am not,” he said, but it did not sound convincing, and that blindfold of his made it too difficult to read his expression.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” You took a step closer.
Maybe if you…
“Can I…?” You lifted your hands tentatively and he leaned in.
You removed his blindfold slowly. Satoru’s eyes were closed, but when he opened them, they met yours, as they always did, even when he was covering them. Your arms returned to your sides, but you did not step back.
Scanning his features, you found no traces of anger on Satoru’s face, and you were reminded of how human he could look. He was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but sometimes, you could still peek at the boy he was at heart and now felt like one of those moments.
Being so close to him, put you at ease but broke your heart at the same time. You had loved the kid and the teen versions of him, and now, the man, maybe all in slightly different ways, but you loved him, nonetheless. Even after accepting he could not return your feelings, you hoped he could love you a little as well.
“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated. “You…” His eyes were on yours, and his tone made you recall the last time he had struggled with his words in front of you, sweets in hand, pausing his speech as if he could not really talk.
He is trying to say something he knows will make things weird.
He finally got the words out. “I know what you are thinking, but I don’t mind him. You… surprised me, it’s all.”
Back in the day, when Satoru disapproved of your friendship with Haruki, although you never fully understood his motive, he had tried to make peace with it for your sake. You knew that much. However, when his leaving inevitably left a bitter taste in your mouth and your heart ached over his last messages and scarce letters, Satoru comforted you the best he could, and even if you had not resented Ikeda, Satoru sure had. You thought he may still associate him with those not-so-happy days.
You nodded slowly. He was right, you had not expected him to return either. “I know.” Your gaze dropped to the collar of his uniform. “I’m sorry. I should have...”
“No. I am sorry too,” he interrupted.
On that sleepless night after being out with you, Satoru had accepted he was not entitled to knowing every detail of your life, but he had reached some other more concerning conclusions.
***
“'You’re a coward'”, Satoru said in a silly way, imitating the tone of a certain boy. “And then he had the guts to smile at me. What a jerk...”
Suguru had listened to Satoru’s full narration of events of how he had talked with Ikeda, and while the subject had initially perked his interest, as he could not picture his friend voluntarily trying to clear the air with Haruki, the story had soon turned into just Satoru complaining about the guy as usual.
“And how did that make you feel?” Suguru disinterestedly turned the page of the book he was reading.
Gojo was going to answer when he realized Geto was barely paying attention.
Suguru felt his friend’s intense gaze and closed his book to look at him. “Well, what else do you want me to say?”
“That he is wrong maybe? I’m not a coward.”
Suguru hummed. “I’m not so sure.”
Gojo smiled. “Trying to pick up a fight, Suguru?”
“All I’m saying is that…” Geto looked at Satoru’s face. It shouldn't be me telling him, and he will not understand it now anyway, because he does not want to believe it. He sighed. “Never mind.”
Geto walked, book in hand, to Satoru, who was sitting down at his desk, and gave him a light tap on the head with the book. “You’ll understand it someday.”
And then he left the room.
“Understand what?” Satoru rubbed his head and got up to catch up with Geto. “Suguru, wait! Understand what?”
***
Now, having you so close, your [eye color] eyes fixed on his, the same eyes he would always look for first in any room, it was clear as day.
Every time he sought you first, every laugh, every touch; how he always needed to know you were okay, how he felt wary towards anyone getting too comfortable around you, how badly he wanted you to remain by his side... It all had hit him like a bullet.
“Satoru, have you ever liked someone?”
Just you, he thought. Of course, there was never a clear line with you. He just had loved you; he could not remember a time when he did not, and he could not think of anyone else he could love that way.
Even if you told him that Ikeda had returned to stay or that your feelings had changed, he was not sure he could restrain himself any longer. No, he would not, not without putting all the cards on the table first.
He placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned in closer. “[name], do you still…?”
His hands on you were firm, but not enough to hurt, and he was fully in your personal space now. It startled you, and you did not really focus on his words.
“Gojo! There you are. I….” The door had opened suddenly revealing a frantic Ijichi.
Ijichi had been looking for Gojo because the higher-ups wanted to see him. He had called, but Satoru had not picked up, so he had searched everywhere in the school under the impression he was there. In any case, he was not expecting to find the view in front of him: his senior grabbing you, his face a couple inches away from yours, and his eyes burning bright blue now directed at him, while you rigidly turned your head to look at him too.
“My apologies!” Ijichi closed the door rather loudly.
What had he just witnessed? He knew you were close, maybe too close. Was it a fight? Even if Gojo had been challenging you, would he really go for a physical fight with you? He thought you were friends, but the way he was grabbing you, like keeping you in place…
Or maybe a lovers’ quarrel? Could it be that the nature of your relationship went beyond friendship? None of you had partners of your own as far as he was concerned, and you spent a lot of time together. Would that not make more sense?
Perhaps Ijichi was jumping to the worst conclusions too fast, and there was the possibility of it not being a fight of any sort. What if he had interrupted a more intimate moment? Was Gojo going to flick his forehead for this?
Satoru sighed when Ijichi closed the door. He had been about to ask if you still liked him.
And then what? What if they say no?, he questioned himself.
You looked back at him. “Did you see his face?” you almost whispered, before letting out your laughter. Ijichi had looked as if he had caught you doing something indecent, and while you should probably be worried about how compromising your position and Satoru’s had appeared, Ijichi’s expression had been too funny not to laugh.
Gojo laughed too, watching closely how your lips curved. Another thought popped up in his head: would you be horrified if he kissed you?
He should probably tell you how he felt first. His hands were on your upper arms now, but he was not sure he could confess knowing Ijichi was right outside.
He straightened up. “So…”
“Are we okay now?” You offered him his blindfold back.
He took it. “We are.”
And while Satoru did feel lighter, his feelings were aching in his chest.
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Note: The end is approaching, but of course I wouldn't let them kiss just now. ^^
Thank you for reading!
Next: Part XI
@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz
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All I Have Is Yours
Chapter Two
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Rated Explicit | Warnings: rough sex (past), semi-dubcon, norton is trying tm
tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife
Ao3
Chapter One
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A New Year's wedding is what your family is talking about currently, not that you are paying much attention to it. In the moment, as they talk about all the ceremonial stuff in the other room, the living room, Norton held all of your actual attention.
It was rocky this past month learning one another, him trying not to scare you with his mood swings but the voice sometimes gets too loud. When he sees you gazing upon him with love in your eyes when you say sweet words, or how you try to include him into this foreign lifestyle. He more than once heard the voice telling him to shut you up.
The words you say with a gentle smile or wide full smile. Everything you say replays in his head when alone.
“You look dashing, Norton.” Fixing his tie and brushing it down.
“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure if you liked sweets.” A mess from trying to bake a variety of cakes with your maid.
“Oh, and if you look there you see the lake! It gets frozen pretty quick in the winter and people ice skate on it.” You smile with endless cheer.
The madness it drives him into! The inner struggle you created within him and Norton found himself at one point losing the battle. Two weeks into the marriage, when you were explaining your father's assets, finances, and estate. Norton was one of the very few miners that could read, granted it was not on your level but he could at least read his father's journal and the posts on board for work.
The voice was too loud that day, you were— Are— too beautiful that day. God, he wishes he could blame anything but himself but in the end, he should have left the second he felt the pain in his chest and whispers becoming twisted. The voice, this darkness within him, made him believe and realize how much he wanted to fuck you like a whore. Of course, it is because this is going to be the ultimate way to get back your father, to ruin the dead fool’s sweet precious brat.
One second he turns to you, the next, you are under him on the desk.
You lay there staring up at him with wide eyes then covering your face with your hands.
“Please, be gentle.” Trembling as he crawls on the bed then up your body, “Norton.” He hates how scared you sounded on that day when the wind was howling outside and the house was warm but he felt cold. The chanting of take the brat, make them squeal, break them, Norton! Echoing in his head over and over. Norton’s hands shook, his breathing was heavy as if he had run a mile, and his body tense. There will be no point of return for both of you.
He never laid with anyone before nor have you. The moment was not as ideal as you wanted, he was rough and it hurt a lot. The moment made Norton feel like a monster as he saw you crying in pain.
That is why right now, in the smoking room, door locking, the former prospector is doing everything possible to make this experience enjoyable: for both of you.
You took initiative, you stopped him from meeting the family, you locked the door, you got on your knees, and took him into your mouth.
Norton is a mess, the sort of mess to be fighting to keep quiet while also saying how fucking hot you look like this. He didn't cum, no, he knew it would be too soon.
“Stay like that for me.” His voice rough and unfiltered desire, “God.” Slicking his hair back as he takes in the view of you partly dressed and flustered. Your makeup is ruined, he grins at the way you cannot hold his gaze. “What inspired this, my treasure?”
“...” You shrugged.
“Sit.” Standing up and moving around to stand behind you, “Legs over the armrests.” You do so. Norton wants you completely exposed.
There you are in nothing but your smalls completely on display for his eyes only. You kissed him back eagerly, his lips kissing your lips then your forehead as he kneels in front of you.
“You don't have to.” Shy.
“I do. I want to.” Assertive, yet gentle.
Slipping off your underwear, he can see how wet you are. A hint of pride in his smirk as he barely touched you, of course, the man before you blew him was grinding his leg between yours. Touching everywhere, marking every place he could reach, whispering in your ear how naughty of a thing you are.
“Ah—!” Sensitive as all Norton did was trace the outer lip of your cunt. “Hmm!” Cover your mouth with both hands.
Next time he is going to tie your hands behind your back. For now, he thinks it is cute how though married to you, you keep your voice down because family is nearby. A part of him wants it to be clearly announced how well fucked you are daily. Because you are his and just one taste of you is not enough.
Your legs squeezing and locked behind his head, your heads pulling forward as Norton, the hum of approval he makes has you telling him not to stop. He devours you like you are his last meal, one he does not care how messy his face and hair are after this. There will be pride in knowing how his disheveled appearance happened.
“Oh, there, please!” His fingers assist and find something that has you seeing stars. “Ah, Norton, Norton, my love!”
This time is a lot better, when his eyes land on your face it is not contorted in pain but the bliss you deserved and are owed the first time. He was apologetic after, he did anything and everything he could to try to fix his mistake. Even when you told him you understood, giving him mercy where he felt he needed penance.
“One more for me, (Name).”
One more, one more became two more and you struggled to keep your voice down.
When he finally sank his cock into your heat, Norton did not move immediately. He waited with you writhing under him begging him to move. “Sh, sh, I've got you.” Kissing you sharing the taste of one another as you both explored each other's mouth.
“I need you, Norton!” Whining, “Please, please.” This torturous to have him properly only to have stopped. His hands soothing you, his sweet nothing making your pussy squeeze around him.
“You like that idea?” Teasing you when he told you his promise to fuck you in every spot in the room. “I am willing to bet you thought this a lot.” He groans as helps you grind against him. Barely any relief but it is something! “Go on, say it.” The position switched to him sitting and you on his lap, naked while he still had his pants and shoes on.
“Norton.” You can barely think! The laugh, dark and rich, you could feel it against your chest. “A… A lot.” Everyone has fantasies!
“Heh, you got it bad for me.” As if he is any better with you chipping at his walls with your damn genuine love for him.
“I love you.” Moaning too loud when you finally, God finally, can move properly. The growl from your husband hits in a way unexpected. Your hands on his shoulders as you ride him— Not that greatly but Norton makes up for it by guiding you.
Over and over, the bliss is shared and found, you kiss him over and over, and Norton marks you shamelessly.
“Inside,” Panting, “Need.”
“Damnit.” You are too good for him.
When you cum, he cums with you. Romantic and not intentional, it is far more amazing than last time. Seeing you drunk from his cock is… Inspiring.
“The pool table.”
You hum softly not paying attention until you are caught by surprise to be lifted in his arms then pinned down on the table he said. “Norton?”
“I promised to take you on every piece of furniture here, my doting love.”
Neither of you heard the knock from the maid who smiles hearing two. Though now the butler is going to have to distract your family longer…
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thirstydemisexual · 4 months
Note
Hiii, I’d like to request number 7 and 14 for Ghost on your NSFT prompt list 🙏😩 he makes me insane
same honestly, I go feral for the man
also sorry for the delay but university is a bitch
UNIVERSITY PROJECT|| Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
no beta again because this bitch right here has no friends who would read this
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You were so fucking mad. You had a project assigned to your group and it seemed like every other person on it was fucking incompetent. They all did an an half-assed job, or they wouldn't fucking respond to call and it was driving you mad. It was just the more difficult since it was the weekend and you couldn't just go ask them in person and you knew they were taking advantage of you because you'd end up doing all the fucking work like always. You fucking hated people in times like that.
It was almost nine p.m and you were still working on your part and just fucking fuming. Honestly you didn't even bother with dinner because the anger just made your hunger subside. Your boyfriend left you alone sensing it was better in your state but he couldn't just let you skip meals.
You didn't hear the knock on your door as you were laser focused on the project but expecting it Simon just let himself in, plate of chicken and potato in one hand and a coffe mug in the other. You turned slightly at the noise of the door opening and gave him a small smile
Fuck if you loved him
"Hey princess, don't you think you should take a break?"
"I can't Si, this project is a half of our grade I can't just not work on it because of those imbeciles"
"Still you did your part didn't you?" he said coming closer and placing the plate and mug on the part of your desk free from your stuff.
"Yes but fuck they just won't do theirs properly! They are doing everything half-assed!" you said smashing your textbook closed
"Honey they are taking advantage of you"
"Don't you think I fucking know that?" you responded raising your voice, raising from your seat and smashing your hands down the desk making it slightly tremble "But I need a good grade I can't just turn in a shitty project because they won't do their part, it's gonna reflect on my grade too. Better believe I'm never partnering with these morons again after this"
You knew it was not his fault and it wasn't right to raise your voice at him, that he was just looking out for you but you were just so fucking frustrated
"Fuck" Simon replayed, slightly nibbling at his bottom lip "You look so hot when you're mad"
Your faced flushed red as you noticed the rising tent in your boyfriend grey sweats, heat pooling south. "Simon!"
"What? It's the truth" he said coming closer, hand resting on your hip bringing you closer, his prominent hardening bulge pressing against your soft stomach.
"I don't have time for this Simon" you said trying to ignore the wetness that was starting to pool at your entrance at the feeling on him on you and turning around. Which didn't help Simon at all with his little problem as his bulge was now brushing against your ass. He let out a grunt.
"Love you do need a break, Id be very happy to serve as a distraction"
You thought about it, you felt like you had to work but you still had two more days.
"I happen to know just the best way to relive stress my love" Simon's hands sneaked around your waist ad his head dipped into the crook of your neck and started trailing hot kisses.
You swiftly turned around, grabbing his jaw in one hand. His pupils blew wide.
"One round" you said as he smirked "Fuck yeah"
You smashed your lips together, the kiss was passionate, all tongue and teeth, anger still seeing trough your veins. You pushed it toward the bed in the other corner of the room. Simon was a big men, but he did enjoy when you tried manhandling him so he often let you.
"Couldn't let me work in peace could you?" you mumbled between kisses, biting hard down on his lip making him let out a low moan. You pushed him down on his back as you straddled his body, grinding your hips hard onto his bulge. He grunted.
"Words Simon" you pushed away, his body trying to follow but you bushed him down firmly with one hand.
"But how can I leave you alone when you look so hot all worked up love?"
You let out a snort as your hands reached for his t-shirt, hastily tearing it off of his body. And he liked it, he loved when you were so demeaning, so hot and bothered and intend to use him for your own pleasure. You took his bel off next and you teared down his pants hastily, not taking them off completely but enough to let his length pop out.
His hands reached to your own oversize shirt
"Not fair, want to see you princess" you let out a chuckle
"How demanding" you taunted him but complied none the less, taking off your shirt, now remaining only in your panties.
You wasted no time taking them off before reaching for his aching cock, his hips bucking into your hand as he finally felt your touch on him.
"Ride me love, please" his tone was desperate as he whined. you chuckled once again aligning your entrance sliding from his pink tip down to his thick base, your free hand sliding across his chiseled chest and landing on his throat giving a light squeeze, the way you knew had his cock twitching inside of you.
"That's good, love. Keep doing that" he let out already feeling breathless. You squeezed a little tighter as you started to set the pace
Up and down
Hi hands landed on your hips helping you as your thighs started to shake, but you quickly rejected them.
"Hands on your sides or I'll stop" he groaned but complied as your trust got sloppier and your breath heavier.
You were both close, you could feel the knot in your stomach building up as you became a panting mess
"Let's come together, on my three, got it?" you said squeezing his throat a bit harder
"Fuck yeah"
"1...2...3!" you finally let go as Simon essence painted your inside white, your combined fluids pooling on his abdomen, creating an equally obscene and arousing sight. You let yourself fall onto his chest, exhausted as his arms came around you. His length still buried inside of you.
"Now you just need to eat love ok? No skipping meals alright?" He said kissing your temple, still breathless.
"Alright"
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sorry this is shorter than usual but again, university is a bitch
118 notes · View notes
Note
I’ve literally never been attracted to Bruce but your doting husband series is the cutest thing I’ve ever read
This is also not an ask but I'm gonna treat it like one 💜
"Alfie?"
"Yes, Master Richard?" he said, glancing up from where he was polishing silver.
"Is Y/N mad at me?" he asked.
"I don't know why she would be," he said honestly. "You haven't seen her since breakfast and as I recall-"
"Her parents were really mad-"
The Butler set down his silverware and tried to weigh what he wanted to say. He hardly understood what had happened, still wrapping his mind around how- frankly unstable they'd gotten when you hadn't rolled over and showed your belly and instead shown your own teeth. "I do not believe," he said, "That that is anything you need to worry about."
"She said they weren't coming back for a long time-"
"And do you believe her?"
The boy hesitated, undoubtedly replaying events in his mind. "She didn't promise," he said finally.
"I see, and that makes a difference does it?"
Dick thought about it. When you said you'd take him to the park if he didn't climb on the chandelier's you did. And you didn't promise. When you said you'd come play with him as soon as you finished your paperwork you did- and he knew because he'd listened at the door. But you didn't promise. "Not this time," he said finally. "She was really sad."
"Yes," he allowed. Waiting. Alfred knew he had questions. A lot of questions- questions to which he didn't know he had good answers. But, he was clearly upset.
"She was crying," he said frowning. "Really bad."
"I'm sure," Alfred said, smiling a little. He'd never seen you cry. But he'd seen the aftermath. And the effort you'd expend not crying in front of people... He'd assumed it was some sort of professional thing. Knowing now that it had been trained into you by your parents. Well. That made him angry in a way he didn't know how to describe. And now it made sense why you'd avoid any direct confrontation.
"Can we make cookies?" Dick asked suddenly, still frowning.
"Why on earth-"
"We can take them to the office," he said still thinking.
"I think that's a lovely thought," he said, "Come along, Master Richard-"
"And on the way there we can go to her parent's house and slash their tires."
"That's less lovely-"
"They did it on Cops!"
"I think we'll allow Miss Y/N and Master Bruce to handle them," Alfred said. "But. We can take cookies to the legal aid office on the way to the park."
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riptideripley · 9 days
Text
Chapter One of: Addicted.
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word count: 1,196
Ever since they first met Roman had been hooked. Seth had this spark to him that Roman felt like he could get high off of. June 2nd 2014 replays in his head every day and he just couldn’t stop it. Liv and Rhea worked through their issues so why couldn’t Seth do the same with him?
Friday rolled around and it was about time for the promo segment they had. Seth was sitting in his dressing room when the door opened, revealing Roman.
“Long time no see.”
“Yeah.”
The small talk happened often between the two, they seemed to never be able to get over what happened a whole decade ago. But only when Roman needed..him was when they would actually “talk”. They last time they found themselves “having a conversation” ended in them fucking in Roman’s hotel room.
“What do you need now Ro? Is it Rhea or..-”
“No it’s not her and it never will be. Just wanted to..check on you I guess.” he confessed, not daring to make eye contact with Seth. Truth be told he was actually nervous around Seth due to him being the only one to see him so vulnerable.
“I see..why don’t you close the door and come have a seat hm? We have 20 minutes to spare.” Seth spoke to which Roman obliged and sat down on the black leather couch.He didn’t speak, just sat there trying to form his words before he said something stupid. “Heard about you and Rhea last week, everyone was talking about it. You know you two really have to work that whole shit out before the whole world knows.” Seth broke the silence which quickly reminded Roman of what happened the week before.
Flashback.
“Rhea you know that wasn’t supposed to happen. I swear I didn’t mean f-“ “BULLSHIT. You swore no one and I mean absolutely no one would find out about that yet here comes Jimmy throwing the shit in my face!” The two went back and forth. What were they arguing about, you may ask? Well to cut shit short they hooked up after Rhea retained her championship at Elimination Chamber. They swore up and down it meant nothing to them but god knows they were both wrong.
“Rhea I’m sorry ok? He must’ve saw the messages in my phone ok just-“ “No Roman that’s bullshit. Why the fuck would he even have your phone?!”
“HEY! Can you two knock it off? People are looking. Take this somewhere private for fucks sake” Dominik finally spoke, having enough of them bickering. The two looked at him and looked at each other, choosing to go into her dressing room to talk.
End of Flashback.
“Yeah..we’re trying, she’s still mad at me and rightfully so.” “I mean I would expect her to be, you swore to keep it private but let your idiot cousin ruin it” Roman sighed and nodded at his words. Letting his head fall into his hands he sat there, not really knowing how to take in all of the stuff he’s been dealing with. Seth stood up from his chair and sat next to him, placing his hand on his thigh.
“Look Ro. Try talking to her next week alright? Now cmon we don’t have much time before the segment and you know how long your cousin takes.” he cracked a joke that made Roman laugh, I mean he was right cause my god did Rock take forever.
Fast Forward.
Everything was going fine in the segment..until Roman grabbed the mic. The second the words “crossdresser” left his lips, Seth’s mood completely changed. At first Seth could not even believe what the fuck he was hearing and then it hit him what Roman actually said. He knew Roman would definitely be paying for that later.
Hour and ½ later
“Seth you know I didn’t mean it just please-“
“No Roman I don’t want to hear it. That’s what you wanna call me now really? Oh just the other night you were calling me d-“
“OK! Jesus I get it. Look I said sorry ok?”
“Don’t wanna hear it. Meet me in my room got it?” “..Alright.”
20 Minutes Later.
“Seth can you- not tease like that..” Roman breathed out with a slight whine, being teased by Seth for 5 fucking minutes that felt like an eternity. “Someone is needy tonight huh pretty boy?” Seth chuckled out, finally giving into what Roman wanted. “Damn near didn’t need any l..lube.” Seth breathed out as he eased himself inside. Roman’s breath hitched as he gripped onto the sheets in front of him. He attempted to reach back to hold Seth’s hand but was quickly slapped. “No touching. For me to be a crossdresser you know..you seem more like the type.” he spoke with a small laugh at the end, not wasting his time as he began thrusting at a rough pace.
Roman’s body damn near fell forward if it wasn’t for Seth holding him up by his waist, with all the teasing he went through on the way to the room and during those 5 minutes he was sensitive. “S- Seth-“ Roman choked out, already feeling like he was getting close with the insane pace Seth was going at. “Cmon pretty boy..you know that’s not my name.”
“f..fuck. please daddy” he finally whined out making Seth smile. “That’s more like it..” he chuckled out, lifting one of Roman’s legs over his shoulder. The position was nothing new for the two but it always made Roman let out the sluttiest high pitched moan you could ever think of. Roman was a babbling mess at this moment, unable to even form a proper sentence. “c..close” he built up the courage to whine out. “Fine pretty boy.. let go for me” and with those exact words, he came. Seth wasn’t far behind and before Roman could even process everything, Seth pulled out and flipped him around.
“You know what to do.” Oh he definitely knew.
15 minutes later.
“Roro..Cmon get up big boy” Seth sighed as he lifted Roman up off the bed, sitting him up straight to wipe his entire body down. Roman just sighed and rested his head against Seth’s shoulder.
“You going back to your room”
“Yeah..just give me a minute.”
Seth nodded and let him down carefully to lay there, placing his clothes in a pile on the chair next to the bed(it wasn’t there before🌚). Seth went to the bathroom and got a wet towel, leaning down to clean up some spots off the floor.
Roman sat up and slowly put his clothes on, not really speaking to Seth. This happened often between them, they would just fuck and not speak. It pained him but he would never mention it. Seth watched as Roman grabbed his stuff off the night stand and walked to the door.
“Hey..make sure to call me tomorrow alright? I have something planned for you.” Seth spoke as Roman opened the door making him stop.
What in the entire fuck was Seth planning??
“Yeah..alright.” he responded and walked out the door.
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hollandsfavbabe · 3 months
Text
Where Do We Go Now
pairing: peter parker x stark!reader
synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her
warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise
word count: 7.1k
masterlist
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a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3
Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!
“I am Iron Man.”
The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.
It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.
You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play. 
“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”
You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.
“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”
“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.
There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.
“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.
“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”
Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.
“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”
You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.
“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”
And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.
Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.
It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.
He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.
The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.
“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.
“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.
Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.
“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”
The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.
“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”
“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.
“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”
His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.
“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.
“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”
You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.
“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.
“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.
“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”
You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.
“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”
And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.
You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.
The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.
You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.
You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.
He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.
You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear. 
“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.
You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.
Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.
Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.
“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.
He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?
“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.
“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”
Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.
“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.
“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.
“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!” 
“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.
“Where did she go?”
“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”
Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”
“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“
“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”
“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.
“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.
“What?”
“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”
“What?! Where is he?”
“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”
As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.
“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”
Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.
“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.
“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”
“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”
“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.
The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.
“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.
“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.
Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”
“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.
“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.
“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”
“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”
“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”
It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.
“We have to find her. Now.”
Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.
“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”
“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.
It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.
The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.
They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.
“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”
“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”
“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”
Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.
It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.
If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.
Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.
You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.
You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.
“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.
You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.
Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.
You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.
“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.
“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.
“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you. 
“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”
“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“
“I WANTED TO DIE!”
Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.
“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”
You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.
“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.
“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.
“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”
Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.
“It hurts me so much.” you restated.
Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.
“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't." 
"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.
"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.
"I just don't know what to do."
"Breathe."
As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.
“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.
“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”
You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.
You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.
You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.
The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.
There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.
It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.
“Let’s get you home.”
The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.
You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.
Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.
You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.
Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.
"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."
You both cried after that.
Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.
It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.
“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙
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sukifoof · 10 months
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its 6 in the morning and ive been up all night so now u all have to listen to me be insane about flowey. anyway i really really love how undertale portrays flowey’s trauma as i’ve said plenty of times before but the thing that’s getting me today is how well it touches on the subject of feeling trapped or stuck. he has this constant theme of isolation that’s extremely prominent to his whole character-- the only one who’s neither human nor monster, the only one capable of taking control, the only one who directly talks to you about your time shenanigans, the only one who’s. Like That. everything about his character sets him apart from everyone else and i love it so much. there’s several other characters who have a similar isolation theme going on (toriel, mad mew mew, alphys, etc) that parallel flowey’s loneliness, but he’s too stuck in his trauma to be able to see that he’s not alone. which makes a lot of sense!! trauma can leave someone feeling like no one else would Get It, especially the kind of grief flowey has been dealing with.
first, he wakes up as a flower. no one is there. he’s numb, and who knows how much time has passed. his mother has left. his father has killed six people he died to protect. chara is gone, and that’s really the biggest thing. the one person who he lived through that trauma with is gone. he’s literally alone with his memories of what happened. he sits there and has to question what’s real, probably replaying everything over in his head who knows how many times. and chara’s still gone. and oh, he can return things to the state where he first woke up-- and chara’s still gone. no matter how much he tries to go back, he’s trapped in the present. he has this distinct separation from his family, because his parents could never understand how he’s feeling, and the person who could is gone and isn’t coming back. when frisk fell, i’m sure he was just living through everything again. of course he tried to take their soul; it’s what chara would have wanted, right? it’s like this is his chance to make up for what he failed at in the past, and in a way he sees both himself and his sibling in frisk.
flowey’s situation in particular gives such a clear view into what ptsd is like. constantly reliving your trauma and looking at what could and can be done differently to prevent it from happening. waking up and suddenly realizing that so much time has passed, but you still feel the same way you did when it first happened. thinking that you have more control over everything than you really do, which leads to even more self blame about what happened. lashing out because of how lonely you feel, and realizing just how different you are from everyone else. frisk falling down forces flowey to realize that he’s not in control. he couldn’t have controlled chara’s actions or thoughts, and he can’t control everything else, no matter how much he wants to or think he can.
i think a lot about how flowey could have just let everything go on. he didn’t have to keep resetting, and yet he did. because he can’t accept that he’s living in a world where he won’t always know what’s happening next and how to perfectly lead everything to the happy end that he wants. so instead he chooses to live in a loop because at least he knows what will happen. he says it’s boring and that he has to know everything that will happen because he’s bored, but it’s likely because of his Various Control Issues born from his ptsd. when he’s given the time to properly grieve and show that he can be understood, it’s like he can finally accept what happened in his childhood, and that he had no control over chara. he’s been stuck in this weird limbo of feeling like he knows better than everyone else, and that everything that happens hinges on him and his decisions. that kind of thinking and his isolation definitely lends to how he has a hard time viewing people as people, which further throws him into his isolation.
i really like that the true pacifist end allows him to say goodbye to his past and chara and to finally get out of this pit he’s been stuck in, metaphorically and literally lol. i’ve never seen anything else portray that specific kind of grief as well as undertale has and i appreciate it so much cuz it’s a very lonely thing to live through. i think kekkai sensen, live a live, and omori handle grief in a similar way that undertale does, which i also really appreciate... it’s a very sensitive topic that toby has written extremely well and i’m so excited to see what he does with deltarune cuz his writing is just. always so good. i keep saying this but flowey feels so much like a traumatized burnt out gifted kid who tried to go to college and immediately dropped out cuz he completely freaked out when he realized everything was just gonna continue happening and chara still isn’t there i need someone else to understand this i am begging. i hope this post is at least mildly coherent <3 i love flowey hes my Big Favorite
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ssadiemariesworld · 2 years
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After Dark
after dark pt. 1, after dark pt. 2 
Summary: You thought your boyfriend Eddie Munson died and you even saw him die with your own two eyes, but was he actually dead? 
Pairing: vampire!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k words :) 
warnings: death, blood, fluff, mental health issues, dealing with loss, and vamp shit OBVIOUS SPOLIERS FOR VOL. 2 ( I would say this is pretty dark )
A/N: This is loosely based on the theory that Eddie is Kas and died and became a vampire and made his way back to Hawkins. Decided to take my creative take on it! So I hope you enjoy and let me know if you want a part 2! :) 
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Watching Eddie die in your arms that night in the upside down never felt right with you. After the amazing show he put on to distract the demo bats he still went out his trailer door to keep the demobats off Steve, Robin and Nancy, and he paid the ultimate price for it. Dustin and you were already on the other side of the gate in the ceiling when he decided to give you a grim look like he knew he might not make it out of it. 
“I love you Y/N, remember that.” Eddie said before cutting the sheet and grabbing his spiked trash can shield and makeshift spear confidently strutting out of view.
“Dustin! We need a new sheet or rope or something! we need to get back there!” You shouted words just spewing out your mouth with the worst feeling in your stomach as you started to freak out numerous scenarios popping into your head as each minute felt like an eternity as Dustin constructed another way to get into the gate. 
The world painfully spun around you knocking the air our of your lungs and making you shake with fear. Your heart racing like crazy as you paced back and forth in Eddie’s living room littered with his uncles collection of hats. Flashes of you and Eddie’s years together replayed in your mind. All the late night drives, cherry slushie runs, his live shows with his band, the way he smelled like weed and cheap cologne, the way he kissed your forehead, how he never let you leave mad no matter what, how you guys would get high in the back of his van, and how he taught you DND so well you even beat him at it and how he was so proud of you when you did. You even remember how proudly he shouted “that’s my girl” after and everyone staring at you as you blushed.
“Y/N as much as I’m freaking out you need to calm down and breathe or else you’re gonna explode.” Dustin shouted breaking you out of your anxiety induced daze in a mildly panicked voice. 
“How can I not panic when my boyfriend is about to sacrifice himself? He couldn’t possibly take on hundreds of demobats, we couldn’t even do it with three people let alone just himself. I can’t lose him Dustin, I can’t.” You winced as the thought crossed your mind of him being torn apart by those stupid ass hellbats gnawing on his flesh as he screamed in unimaginable pain. 
“Y/N! He knew that risk and he took it, all we can do now is try to get back through that gate and I promise you even if I have to throw you up and through. we will get him back” Dustin stern and serious assured you with a calm tone which made you feel slightly better, but nothing could truly make you forget the awful feeling growing in the pit of your stomach like you just knew something wasn’t right.
Dustin finally found another way through the gate with another sheet rope and as you climbed down into the upside down you ran as quick as you could outside. Bursting through Eddie’s trailer door it’s like time was going in slow motion as you screamed seeing Eddie being brutal torn apart by the demonbats thrashing and screaming.
“EDDIE!” You screamed horrified it echoing through the upside down as you ran to his side poking and prodding any demo bat with his spear who even got close to you or him. They were pretty much done with him by that time you got there his flesh all over his chest and neck torn into and blood flooding out of his wounds.
“Eddie no no..” You sobbed tears streaming down your face uncontrollably holding him in your arms as he barely had any strength on his own.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the hero you wanted me to be.” He said smiling choking up blood in his throat after he spoke.
“Don’t say that, you died for us, for a town that hated you..they didn’t deserve you Eddie.. You should’ve ran.” Tears continued to form in your eyes as Eddie tried to put on a brave face one more time for you smiling as you caressed his face hands soaked in his blood, but you didn’t care he was still your Eddie.
“Please take care of yourself for me and look out for Dustin and the little sheep of mine.” He breathed out coughing up some more blood as he continued, “I love you, please no matter how hard it is…hold…on for me okay.”
After that sentence his eyes started fluttering closed and the light of life slowly was fading as a tear streamed down his cheek as he held yours. With one last smile his expression faded away and he was gone. You knew it as soon as his body went limp and his hand that was once on your cheek fell to his side.
You just lost it after that gripping his lifeless body screaming and crying as you laid your head on his still chest. The pain of grief overloading your senses and whole body feeling like you just wanted to go to as you held onto his lifeless body. 
“Please don’t go..please don’t do this Eddie…I need you I-“ You chocked out inhaling and exhaling between sobs as you looked into his lifeless eyes blood covering your hands as you tried waking him back up to no avail.
“We need to go Y/N” Dustin said tears brewing in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks as he limped over to you and Eddie.
“We can’t just leave his body here!” You protested holding on to him as you looked up at him your eyes red and puffy as tears continued to stream from them.
“We lost, Max is seriously injured and gates are opening everywhere.” After hearing the horrible news and feeling the upside down tremble you knew what you had to do as you slowly let go of Eddie gently placing his body back down on the concrete as Dustin pulled you away. Looking back at him laying there you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by yourself that you left his body here out of all places and not properly like he more than deserved. You knew you would have no grave to visit cause people wouldn’t think he died a hero for that matter cause no one would believe your story about the person who everyone believed to be a “satanic fucking murderer”, but that wasn’t Eddie it never was. Eddie didn’t deserve this. He really fucking didn’t. He died a villain in Hawkins history not the person who gave them a fighting chance, but instead seen as a murderer out of all things.
As you were pulled back into Eddie’s living room the pain of his loss just hit you even harder as you ran in his room to grab whatever you could. You grabbed his stash, polaroid's of you guys, his cologne, his rings and a couple more of his shirts and even his guitar because he wouldn’t forgive you if you left his “baby” behind. You couldn’t help but want to grab more but you could see the earth cracking at the seams incinerating everything in it’s path and as much as you wished it to all end you made a promise to Eddie that you were gonna live a good life and you were more than gonna keep it. As you ran out of the trailer you noticed that Eddie’s uncle had already left which was good considering as soon as you were far enough away the whole trailer tore in half. The last place that reminded you of Eddie was gone just like him in one night.
𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐
Two days had passed since we tried to take on Vecna and lost of course. Max is blind and in a coma plus Steve and Robin dragged you to help out at the school where people were taking shelter in after what is now called the fall of Hawkins. Gates to the Upside Down glowed and tore throughout the city and safe zones were made and everyone still looking for missing people including Eddie who they still believed was the one who sacrificed Vecna’s four victims excluding Max. Jason who blamed Eddie for all this bullshit was gone and you’d think justice was served, but it still wasn’t worth losing Eddie. Even if you would’ve had to go on the run with Eddie you would’ve rather done that then ever lose him. To be honest the thought never crossed your mind that the days with him were numbered and maybe that was a good thing because you didn’t put the pressure on everything being perfect even though it was. He was perfect. Part of you couldn’t accept that he was really dead but of course denial was one of the very first gruesome stages of grief.
“Y/N! earth to Y/N.” Steve chimed waving his hand in your face after folding a polo shirt and jeans.
“Yeah..sorry was spacing for a minute there.” You murmured realizing you were folding a Metallica shirt which immediately had Eddie popping up in your mind, but you didn’t say anything because you really didn’t want to talk about and face that grim reality that he’s really gone for good.  
“You good?” Steve asked his bushy eyebrows furrowed giving you that concerned mother of six look with his hands on his hips. 
“Yeah! yeah totally good.” You exclaimed feeling like you were putting on the best performance of your life considering you felt like you were dying on the inside. 
“Good I was just checking.” Steve responded laughing your response off still seeming a little suspicious of your state of mind but he could tell by how well you brushed it off that you probably didn’t want to talk about it. 
“So why did you break me out of my thoughts Harrington?” You mused looking over at him intently folding clothes and placing them in their respective laundry baskets. 
“Because look at Robin she’s finally making some progress with Vicki.” Steve gushed looking over at him pointing his head in the direction of Robin laughing and smothering pieces of white bread with jelly and peanut butter with Vicki giggling right along with her. 
“You’re planning their wedding as we speak aren’t you?” You joked nudging him in the shoulder making him laugh in response. 
“Maybe I am.” He said smiling proudly. 
Steve wasn’t so bad considering you guys really didn’t hang much besides when you guys were in the Upside Down fighting otherworldly beings together. He was mostly known for being the king of Hawkins High since you had gone there and also the notorious boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler, but they have since broke up. After that he kinda fell of the face of the Earth having not graduated and working at Scoops Ahoy with one of your best friends Robin who seemed to begin hanging with Steve much more after. You would always see her working at Scoops whenever you and Eddie would have an ice cream date and it would be like you were best friends again. You understood that you both grew up and had lives and you had began hanging out and dating Eddie, but you couldn’t help but feel like Steve stole your best friend away. There was so much more to the story you would later find out, but you for sure held a little bit of a grudge. 
“You know I could get you a job at Family Video if it isn’t obliterated, if you want it. I know Robin misses hanging out with you despite having my wonderful company.” Steve sarcastically blurted out.  
“Would that mean I would have to work with you too?” You asked poking fun at him.
“Yes I would think so.” He replied looking over at you a nervous smile on his face.
“Then I’ll think about it.” You smiled shyly folding your last piece of laundry.
“Hey uh you were Munson’s girl right?” Steve asked blurting the question out as you started to walk away the ‘were’ making you wince as you turned around to answer him. If Steve was trying to make you like him more before he is defiantly not helping that idea now.
“Yes, why are you asking?” You quickly spewed out just wanting to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. 
“Here’s his vest I know if anyone he would have wanted to have it, it’d be you.” He muttered laying the folded jean vest in your arms as you blankly looked down at it trying not to burst into tears in front of him. 
“Thanks. Appreciate it Steve. See ya around.” You quickly got out not looking up at him as you turned around and started walking fast out of the gym until you felt yourself bump into someone.
“Oh Y/N there you are.” As you look up you see Eddie’s uncle standing before you tears fresh in his eyes.
“You know about Eddie?” You ask looking at him trying not to get upset but it was getting a lot harder each passing minute. And seeing the look on his face made you believe he knew what happened.
“Yeah that kind young man Dustin told me..and I sat and thought Eddie would’ve wanted you to have this more then me.” He placed something in your hand patted you on the back and walked away. 
After processing that quick encounter you slowly open your hand to see his guitar pic necklace laying there a little dried up blood on it. All that pain and grief hit you again and felt like it knocked the wind out of you. As you frantically left the school you looked up at the sky as what seemed like snow was falling, but instead of snow it was the Upside Down particles which was new. What a fucking shitshow. Of course as soon as you lose your boyfriend the town you grew up in had to go to shit too. As you drove home and thought hard about the fuckery that is your life blasting music all while holding in the emotions you’ve been holding in for these past two days making you feel like you are about to boil over. You speed walked inside your house not even caring to acknowledge your parents and going upstairs to your room. Finally after shutting the door you just broke falling to the ground as you sobbed. Clutching your arms to your chest and tears just streaming down your cheeks effortlessly but you couldn’t care less because the pain was too much to bear. The loss of Eddie having you feeling like a hole has been punched right threw you. You had to let it out.
“Why are you crying Y/N?” As you looked up from your sad little world you saw Eddie smiling at you wearing a blood stained and torn Hellfire shirt his skin paler than usual shining through with no wounds in sight. At first you thought you were seeing things so you wiped your tears and adjusted your eyes but he was still there.
“Are you a ghost?” You gulped fear gripping you and making every hair on your body stand as you saw your last time you checked VERY dead boyfriend whose body isn’t here sitting on your bed.
“I know what you are thinking and it’s not what you think.” He said shaking his hands as you stared at him with fear in your eyes. 
“How else am I suppose to think Eddie? You were dead.” You stressed running your fingers through your hair staring at him.
But I’m here. I woke up here.” Eddie explained as his eyes glinted red for a second, “Come sit down please.”
A/N: YES I left this on a cliffhanger, but let me know if you want a part two because I defiantly plan on writing one :) vampy Eddie is the only thing I’m holding onto rn. Thanks for reading! Follow for more stories I decide to write! I will have part two put somewhere on this part when its finished! 
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sometipsygnostalgic · 5 months
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"Why is Alola so hated?"
Someone asked this question on Reddit.
The original post:
"Other than too much dialogue what is the worst thing about Alola. Alola is my favorite Pokémon games and region for a multitude of reasons but all I hear about it is that it has too much dialogue. I can understand that but later titles have just as much dialogue especially in the beginning portions of the game. So why is such an issue in these games than any other in the series. Also you thought the GD games were dark, the Aether Family are very dark concept if you want to look into them. Anyways back on topic, why are Alola considered the worst games besides the dialogue of course"
I thought about this question and I ended up writing a lengthy reply, see below. For context I should mention that Sun and Moon were my favourite mainline stories:
"So everyone is mentioning USUM, but since I was around for the launch of the games, I may as well throw my hat into the ring and explain what went wrong:
Everyone was really excited for the games to come out, but there was generally something missing from them. Promotional material was overly vague.
When the original Sun and Moon came out they had the following issues:
The story was very handholdy. I am a GREAT FAN of the story mode, but I have never replayed these games because they are basically visual novels. If you were a Nuzlocker, someone who wanted to replay Pokemon games, or if you didn't like the story, then these versions would automatically become your least favourite because of how long it takes to reach each milestone. It's also easier than a lot of prior games, not as easy as Gen 6 or 8 but up there.
While the region is IMO one of the most cohesive, it's also one of the least expansive. The Alola Region is fucking tiny. There's not nearly as many side things to do as in generations 4 and 5, and the new things they put into the Alola games were a lot less fun gimmick-wise. I like that they abandon the grid system, it needed to go, but Pokemon team don't seem to work well in 3d.
The online multiplayer was total ass. Of course, the online only got WORSE From here on out. How you get worse than Festival Plaza is beyond me, but I think Gen 7 is definitely when Pokemon jumped from having the BEST multiplayer system on Nintendo systems in generation 6 to one of the worst. Personally I was also disappointed the Festival Plaza wasn't a bit more like the Wifi Plaza, which was already a broken terrible mess but at least had some minigames. It seemed to take the wrong inspiration from Wifi Plaza, and tragically Pokemon only went downhill with online compatibility after. Because while technically the online is more fun in gen 8 and 9, it doesn't work.
The games leaked before they came out. Everyone saw concept art of the starters' final evolutions and they were SO MAD that Litten became bipedal. But there were very few surprises in Sun and Moon for people who prowled the reddit, who also seemed to be the least excited about the games.
However, what I don't think you understand is how much LOVE they had. Of all the pokemon games I've been around for the release of, I think Sun and Moon were most unanimously loved. Everyone was talking about the story, and the incredible new designs of the alola pokemon, and yeah they were having a lot of trouble playing online, but people persisted.
When Ultra Sun and Moon came out, people were veeeeery disappointed for three key reasons:
This was a dual release "third version" instead of a sequel. Again, everyone LOVED the story of the original games, by this point it felt that the "third version" idea was dated, and people wanted a damn sequel with their favourite characters! I think BW2 set a very high bar for what the Pokemon team could offer, and unfortunately I don't think they ever met that bar again after they started making 3d games.
It was on the 3DS instead of the Switch. I was NEVER expecting USUM to be Switch games, I knew Pokemon team were not ready for Switch, but for some reason people expected Pokemon Stars to be a Switch game. Everyone was reaaaaally excited for Pokemon Switch after the console launched, but Pokemon has always belonged on the DS, and I felt it had more potential for growth on that console before moving up on the chain. Of course, after the negative reaction to USUM and the begging for Pokemon Switch, Game Freak HAD to start development on Let's Go and Sw/Sh.
The things they'd added into the game were not as impressive as the other Third Versions. Pokemon Emerald and Pokemon Platinum were objective improvements from the original, though I have some things to say about Emerald's pacing. I like the minigames from Ultra, I fell SO in love with the Camera mode!!! Spent so much time fucking around in it and still have a folder in my computer to this day. HOWEVER, the people still yearn for a Battle Frontier! The Battle Factory they put in USUM seems to be based on community, which was already a pain in the ass, and as you know, it's now impossible to play online with others, so RIP to that as well. I like the changes to the Battle Tree, I love Rainbow Rocket, but while Platinum and Emerald were NECESSARY IMPROVEMENTS from the ground up, USUM only improved some of the battles and held down everything else with more, worse cutscenes.
The story was much worse than the original, choosing to cut and change content instead of improve upon what was there. The story of Platinum and Emerald doesn't come across as worse than DP and RS, but EVERYONE thinks the story for USUM is a downgrade. The reason for this is because if Lillie was the true protagonist of the games originally, the Ultra versions tried to cut her down, but only for a couple of her most important scenes. She and Lusamine basically have every scene intact except for their most important, climactic moments. It's like if instead of BW2, they made Pokemon Grey but it was split in half, and instead of being an evil fucko gunning for world domination, Ghetsis was trying to use the power of the two Dragons to stop Kyurem from freezing the world, except he still abused pokemon, and he still abused N from childhood, and N never showed up to become champion and N never realised the truth of pokemon or turned against his father. How terrible would that be?
No remakes or anything special at the end of the gen. For the past few generations we'd either had remakes or sequels, but Gen 7 released USUM and Let's Go. It's debatable whether the Lets Go games are part of gen 7, but I wouldn't consider them remakes the same way that HGSS or ORAS are, and they are CERTAINLY not a favourite with a hardcore Pokemon audience. At least Gen 8/9 had decent DLC and Legends Arceus as a halfhearted apology note, but unfortunately there was no swan song at the end of Generation 7.
I think ultimately that's what made people go from "Gen 7 could be the best yet" to "Gen 7 bad". The launch was very strong, but the followup was the poorest out of almost any gen.
My personal opinion of USUM is it is one of the best pokemon games for general battles, I think it would be a lot more fun to nuzlocke than the original Sun and Moon, but there's a lot of better pokemon games to replay than USUM, especially if you're taking modded into account. I think sun and moon were the most immersive out of the games I've played, at the very least because it had improvements like trainer models in battles without the uncanny as hell stuff you got in the next two gens. I remember the games fondly, even if I do feel bitter about the story changes."
I thought this reply was worth sharing on this blog. I put a lot of effort into it.
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stratossphere · 2 years
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can’t stay apart. | j.k
johnny knoxville x steve-o’s sister!reader
word count: 4.4k
*alludes to reader being a crew member on jackass*
after being broken up for the past 3 weeks, johnny ends up taking reader home from steve-o’s birthday party, where they spend their first night together since their breakup.
warnings: slight angst, reader is crossed, debauchery at steve-o’s apartment, fluff towards the end
— —
"You leaving?" You could see Johnny walking towards the door of Steve-O's apartment, and as much as you would also be leaving if you had the opportunity, you weren't sure that you wanted him gone quite yet. Plus, to make matters worse, you were pretty sure he was trailing after some blonde you'd never seen before. Sure, the last time you'd interacted had been a fight and you'd told him you never wanted to fuck him again, but people lie.
"Going out for a smoke. And leaving, depending on how much I like the fresh air." He waved the pack of cigarettes in his hand up for you to see. "Why? You want one?"
"Yeah. I can't be in here anymore." All nerves on whether or not you were on good terms skipped your thoughts as he offered an escape from your brother's disgusting apartment, and you were out of your seat before he was even finished speaking. You watched his eyes pull on the blonde, who was already disappearing out the front door, before he stuck his place and waited for you to make your way over to him.
You made the quick walk up to the roof of Steve's apartment, and the entire time you were mentally praying that none of his creepy-ass friends were going to be up there. It made you feel a little better that Johnny would be there with you, but you still wanted silence all the same. Steve-O's friends really knew how to party like professionals, but they were clueless in how to respect boundaries and women in general.
"I didn't expect you to be here. I thought you refused to be in Steve-O's place." He muttered as he shoved a cigarette between his lips. To your relief, there was no one on the roof but the two of you, and the fresh air that he had promised was living up to its hype as you sat down in some of the discarded chairs.
"Well, it's his birthday. I'd feel bad if I didn't make an exception." You sighed, frowning a little bit when you watched him slip his pack right back into his pocket without saying anything. He better not want you to share.
"That's sweet." He said it so offhandedly that you almost didn't catch it. But you did, and you couldn't help the hint of a smile that pulled at your lips as he handed over the cigarette he'd just taken a short puff off of. Your eyes stayed on him as you took a longer drag, feet up and resting on the edge of his pool chair. You didn't even want to know where it had come from.
"Not really. He gave me an ounce of green to come." You admitted. You and Steve had always spent all of your birthdays together as kids, and you had tried to continue the tradition into adulthood, but sometimes it needed a little bit of coercion to convince you. Especially with your brother being who he was.
"Attagirl." Ugh. He was making it really hard to stay mad at him. You were trying to constantly replay the fight you'd had that had ended your relationship in the first place as an incentive, but even that wasn't working.
"What about you? Find any interesting blondes to go home with?" It was a pointed question, because you already knew the answer, but to your surprise, he merely brushed it off.
"Everyone at this party looks like they're on meth." He sighed, and then leaned forward to take a drag off the cigarette still between your fingers, a playful smirk on his face as he looked at you while doing it.
"PJ, you kind of look like you've been doing meth." You pointed out. He'd probably been up for a few days with whatever he was doing, and you could see nasty bruises across several inches of his exposed arms. None on his neck, thankfully. He chuckled, running a hand through his wild hair before slowly exhaling smoke.
"Thanks, sweetheart." And there was that hint of Tennessee in his voice as he accepted your observation. It was making it hard for you to stay in your chair instead of moving to share his. "You drunk?"
"Decently." You weren't really up for any of his stunts and games anyway, so you didn't lie. No use in letting him convince you to play a game of football with all of his friends until you were puking in the yard like last weekend.
"High?" A funny question, considering you'd just told him you'd been gifted an ounce, but you took a deep breath and resisted the urge to respond sarcastically before opening your mouth again.
"A little more than decently." He laughed when you said it, and you couldn't help but laugh with him due to the weed. It felt good to be so relaxed with him when for the past two weeks you'd been nothing but venomous towards each other. "I've got less than half of my ounce left, man. I'm fucking blitzed."
"Well, I'm heading out before I get too comfortable with a beer funnel. I'll take you home." He offered, moving to stand up before offering a hand out to you. You smiled softly, because you'd actually been kind of scared of how the hell you were going to manage to get home on your own after your ride had let your brother convince him to do a beer enema.
"Fucking thank you." You let him pull you up before you were following after him, heading towards the steps to make our descent back through the lion's den that was your brother's apartment. You were really hoping that he would get kicked out of this one soon, because the layout prevented you from being able to sneak out without having to talk to him, and it was also starting to get more than uninhabitable inside.
"Oh, don't praise me yet. I've still gotta make it through the buttchugs without getting drawn in." He winked at you as you paused on the balcony for a second, each taking a moment to mentally prepare for going back into the party that was still in full swing. He then extended a hand again, a slightly mischievous look on his face. "Don't want to lose you in there, so you might want to hold on."
If God was testing you in the form of self control, you were definitely failing, because you grabbed that hand before the words were even fully out of his mouth. It felt good to be back in the swing of things, and it also felt good to have his strong presence next to yours. Especially in the setting you were currently in. You slid back into the party where, true to your expectations, there were two beer enemas going on in the middle of the absolutely trashed living room.
Thankfully, Steve-O wasn't one of the recipients, but he was holding one of the funnels. He glanced up when the balcony door slammed back shut, and then did a double take when he realized it was you.
"Y/n/n! I thought you left!" He cheered. You watched as he passed the funnel over to someone else before stepping around the crowd of onlookers to make it over to you and Johnny "Dude. Isn't this party fucking gnarly?"
"Yeah! And I'm leaving!" You responded, having to shout in order for him to hear you over the cheering. You watched his unfocused eyes dart down to where you and Johnny’s fingers were interlaced, but you were relieved to see that he looked too high to even notice.
"Fuck that! You just got here!" He complained, throwing an arm around your shoulders. He was sweaty and he smelled like a bar and a smoking room, which made you attempt and fail to shrug out from under his arm. "Where you goin'?"
"I've been here for like, three hours." You could tell he was having a hard time understanding you, so you grabbed his hand with the hand that wasn't still in Johnny's and dragged him over to the only area of his apartment that wasn't drowning in people, which just happened to be the entrance to the hallway closet. "I'm going home. PJ's gonna drive me."
"It's my birthday." Steve-O whined, throwing a fit that closely resembled tantrums you had seen as a child. You laughed, glancing back at a mostly un-entertained Johnny before looking back at your brother. He was now giving you a 'please don't leave' look, and his grip on your hand was only getting tighter. "I got you an ounce!"
"I promise I will take you out for a post-birthday lunch tomorrow. I have to go home." You sighed, taking your hand out of Johnny's and then using it to pry Steve-O's fingers off of you. He suddenly narrowed his eyes, and then he was looking back and forth between you and Johnny like something had just dawned on him.
"Why, so you can bang Knoxville?" He accused you, jabbing a finger in Johnny’s direction like he was an inanimate object. You opened your mouth to refute that rumor, even if it might've been true, but you heard Johnny chuckle behind you, and then his hand was on Steve-O's shoulder instead of yours.
"Dude. She's bringing down the party. I'm just gonna drop her off at her apartment, and then I'll be back to do beer bongs. And not one that's been up someone's ass." He consoled, and you could tell he was easily convincing Steve-O by the way a grin quickly spread onto your brother's face. You smacked Johnny's arm, shooting him a dirty look, but didn't refute that idea.
"Hey. You better pick me up at one tomorrow, or else I'm telling dad that you're screwing him." Steve-O warned, jabbing a finger first at you and then at Johnny. That was an empty threat, considering the fact that he was blackout drunk and he wouldn't remember your interaction tomorrow anyway, but you pretended to look affected just for his satisfaction.
"Done. But if you puke in my car, I'm making you lick it back up." That was your final warning, which had Johnny genuinely laughing, before you moved to push through the crowd of disgusting adults. You then turned back to your brother momentarily. "I love you! Don't break anything!"
"Yeah, whatever! Love you!" He waved you off but responded regardless, that 'ready-to-party' look quickly falling back onto his face as one of his friends grabbed him by the arm once he was in reaching distance. You struggled to stay close to Johnny as you fought towards the front door, but eventually you made it out, pulling the door shut like it was stopping a tidal wave from spilling into the hallway.
"Jesus. I feel like I just jumped in a bath of sweat." Johnny complained as you started our way down the crusty carpet-covered stairs. You could see the line of sweat that stained the back of his light blue PBR shirt, and his face was covered in a thin sheen when he glanced back at you to check on you. Any party in Steve-O's apartment was basically a sweat bath.
"So, I was bringing down the party, huh?" You said after a while, cigarette still between your lips as you spoke. He barely glanced at you this time, and he shook his head.
"Had to get you out of there somehow. But yeah, you kind of were." At first you thought he was going to be nice, but then of course he had to finish it off by being an asshole. "You've just been smoking in the corner by yourself."
"You'll have to excuse me. I worked 13 hours today going over logistics and planning out the India flight with Tremaine." You complained, passing the cigarette over to him as you stepped outside. "I'm tired."
"You're always tired." He muttered, and you could tell by his expression that his words were filled with hidden meanings. Hidden meanings that you were too crossed and too fed up with to decipher.
"Well, I work. And I don't do cocaine." You said dryly, giving him a taste of his own medicine with your pointed tone. "I'm surprised you offered to take me home. You know, because I said I wouldn't fuck you again."
He almost stopped completely in his tracks, and his critical gaze turned back on you as he slowed his walk so that you were almost side-to-side. Once he was over the initial shock, he took his car keys out of his pocket and turned his gaze away from you once again to focus on finding his car that was parked somewhere along the horribly-lit curb.
"You know, every time we fight, you have a habit of shouting the first thing that comes to mind." He said, sounding semi thoughtful as his ratty converse scratched against the pavement with every step. You stared at the side of his head sourly.
"I meant it. Unless you take me seriously and stop being such an immature douche, you will never see these legs spread again." You might've been a little drunk and a lot high, but that wasn't changing. No matter how many furtive glances and sweet nicknames he gave you.
It was silent for a while after that. The only acknowledgement you gave each other was when he opened your door for you, and when you changed the station on the radio upon his request. Then it was silence. You drove down roads that you'd seen a million times, passed buildings you'd frequented throughout your short time in LA, and listen to music you'd heard before. It was all familiar, but somehow you felt so distant and foreign in your seat. You were so lost in thought it didn't even click that you had passed the exit to get to your house until you were already turning down a different street.
"PJ. You missed the turn." Maybe he had been lying about how sober he really was. You were starting to get irritated, and this was only making it worse. You wondered if he could tell that you were speaking through your teeth.
"Yeah, I know. I don't want you alone in that shitty neighborhood all night when you're like this. I'm just gonna have you stay at my place for the night." He explained like it was no big deal. You stared at him for a second, your brain clearly trying to decide between feeling touched that he cared enough to do so and pissed that he did it without asking. He could clearly sense your unrest, because he sighed. "I will sleep on the couch, for god's sake."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. I can feel you burning a hole in the side of my damn head."
And then there was silence again. It was a little easier this time, because he was the one who was annoyed instead of you, but it still made you ache to be back in his house and not cramped up in a car with him. You weren't sure exactly why you were so anxious around him now, as just three weeks ago you'd been playing PlayStation until two in the morning with the back of his head resting between your thighs with your legs resting over his shoulders and on his chest. It probably had something to do with the fact that the great Johnny Knoxville, infamous for his tendency to laugh in even the most inappropriate of situations, was now glaring out the windshield at the road in front of him without a single word.
It felt like hours, but finally you were pulling up to his house, which came as a welcome sight after not seeing it for such a long time. You weren't going to let him get anywhere, but that didn't mean you couldn't take up his nice ass couch and eat something out of his fridge.
He led you to the door before letting you into the completely silent, dark house that always smelled a lot nicer than you anticipated. Johnny was a lot cleaner than you would expect.
One of the reasons you stayed in your two-bedroom apartment in the city was the fact that owning a house just seemed so lonely when you lived by yourself. Sure, you were probably coming close to being able to afford it, but it just seemed excessive when you didn't need it. But, as everyone knew, Knoxville was a different breed. Always had been.
"You just wanna crash, or do you want a drink?" He asked as he threw his keys on the counter, a hint of a grin on his face as he watched you flop directly down on his couch.
"Water won't kill me, I guess." You managed, haphazardly toeing off your brand-new shoes that had probably gotten dirty throughout the night and listening to them each drop down onto the wood floor with a thunk! You heard the sound of his sink running, and you glanced over at the coffee table to see that he had faxes of your logistics outlines and also the flight itineraries for everyone for India in three weeks. It made you feel a little better that he seemed to have actually read through them.
"Looks good. Gotta hand it to ya, you got that done pretty quick." Johnny appeared next to you just as he held out the full glass of water, the scuffed-up toes of his converse coming into view at the bottom of your eye-line.
"Thank you. I almost strangled Jeff several times in the process." You said, sitting up with a slight smile as you took the glass from him. Your hands brushed when you grabbed it, and you tried to ignore the jolt that ran up the back of your neck. Stop. It.
"I don't know how you're still conscious. You're eyes're redder than hell." Johnny commented, crouching down and taking the glass from you to set down when you almost missed the coffee table and dropped it right onto the floor.
"Talent." You said with a smile, suddenly very aware of how close he was to you. He was sweaty, but you could still smell his cologne, and it was taking everything in you not to pull him onto the couch right on top of you. "Thanks for taking me home. Sweet of you."
"I could only watch so much stupidity in one night, doll." He brushed off your thanks easily, standing back up out of his crouch to stand above you with his arms crossed. "Woulda killed me to watch you walking around out there by yourself this late."
"Ugh. I hate it when I'm fucked up and you're not." You sighed, shielding your eyes from the light in the kitchen with your hand. The weed was flaring up to an all time high, and the room felt like it was spinning. And yet, he looked like he hadn't had more than maybe one or two beers.
"You'll be okay in the morning. Just let me take you to bed, and you'll sleep it off fine." He reassured, offering a hand out to you. Your smile only got wider, and you took his hand without much resistance. Plus, he had a king-sized bed. Who would be able to say no to that?
"PJ?" You asked tentatively as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you on two feet while you made your way towards the stairs. He let out a sound of acknowledgment, and you gripped his arm a little tighter. "Were you going to go home with that blonde girl earlier?"
There was a pause, and then he sighed. "Yeah."
Wow. It was usually a pain in the ass to get more than a tiny shred of information out of him.
"But I care more about you than I do her." He finished it off more reassuringly, making your weed-laced heart swell stupidly at his admission. God, you were such a pushover for him. “Actually don’t give a fuck about her, so don’t worry your pretty little head.”
"Okay." Was all you could muster, but your contentment with his words flooded through your tone easily as you spoke.
His room was nice and cool when you stepped inside, and he didn't even bother turning on the lights as he let you sit on the edge of the bed.
"You want something more comfortable to wear? I'm pretty sure someone spilled beer on this shirt." Johnny spoke softly as he motioned to a stain on your side, concerned eyes not wavering from yours. You nodded, and then he left you to rifle through his closet.
"I don't think I like being broken up anymore." You don't know what came over you, but the words were out of your mouth before you could let your common sense kick in. Johnny looked back at you with a hint of surprise from where he was searching through his shirts, mouth partially open.
"I uh...really?" He sounded as surprised as you felt with yourself.
"It's getting boring." You said simply, watching him walk back over to you with a shirt that said KISS THE POPE. He handed it over, a lot gentler than how he would've just tossed it in your general direction if you were sober. The two sides of Johnny Knoxville.
"I'm okay with that." His fingers trailed over your knee as he moved away again, looking at you over his shoulder. "You want pants with that?"
"Can I ask you a question?" You shook your head to answer his previous question before you spoke, and watched him stop in the middle of his room as if caught between finding something to do away from you and actually moving to to be in your general vicinity.
"Shoot." He gestured to you to give you the all clear, brushing a hand over his hair and watching you closely. You struggled to find your words, before just giving up and going for the simple route.
"Do you love me?" It felt like someone took 10 tons of pressure and dropped it directly over the room. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, as if he wasn't sure how to approach his answer. But, after a second, he cleared his throat.
"Do you want me to?" You had known he was going to go that route. He always did. He always made you spill your thoughts before you could even graze his. You shrugged.
"I don't know." That was really your honest answer. Of course, you liked him. Really liked him. Probably more than what was healthy. But you knew he wasn't committed. It was the whole reason you'd broken up in the first place. But here he was now, taking care of you and getting you ready for bed. He ran a hand over his mouth before taking a few steps forward, landing in front of you before he crouched down. His arms rested on your knees as brown eyes looked up to meet yours.
"How's this? I think I'm falling in love with you. I don't know how I feel about the rest of it quite yet." He said, eyes darting to where your hand moved to rest on his shoulder. "If you don't know yet, then I don't know yet, okay?"
"Okay. Yeah." Despite the fact that each of your breaths seemed like it was sucking all the air out of the room around you, you still felt breathless. Maybe it was his hands on you, maybe it was the fact that he'd just admitted to falling in love with you. "You can stay, if you like."
"Alright. Let's get you into bed." He mumbled, getting back up and letting you pull your trashed clothes off and slip his new shirt on before he coaxed you against the pillows and under the sleek black comforter. "That ok?"
"Good." You said sleepily, already feeling your eyelids getting heavier as you closely watched him strip out of his shoes, socks, and Dickies. How you were ever able to resist this man, you had no fucking idea. "I missed you."
"You know I missed you too, sweetheart." The bed dipped next to you as he slid into his side, his fingers immediately finding your arm once he had pulled the covers over himself. Soon, he was completely flush up against your back in a spooning position, his lips ghosting across the back of your neck. "Just wake me up if you need anything."
You turned your head with your last ounce of strength, and were met with the familiar sensation of his lips on yours, immediately soothing an ache that had been clawing its way through you for the last three weeks as you tasted his cigarette-tinged skin.
You were able to mutter out one last half-audible thank you as you fell asleep, one of Johnny's arms draped over your side and thigh, and the other one under your pillow with our fingers laced together as you faded into his warmth.
Falling in love and already loving someone was such a thin line, and neither Johnny nor you could really seem to tell the difference. Of course, you weren't ready to admit that to each other, so it would stew for a few more weeks or months, but at least you had a tiny shred of reassurance. His arms around you didn’t hurt, either.
No matter how annoying he was or how snippy you got with each other, somehow it seemed impossible to stay apart. Even when you were as pissed with him as you had possibly ever been, it was hard to stay mad once you saw that trademark Knoxville grin. He just always had that effect on you.
So you fell asleep without a hint of stress crushing your shoulders for the first time in weeks, the only sound in the room Johnny’s soft breathing and occasional mumbling.
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royalstydia · 2 years
Text
make me forget his name
rafe cameron x reader 
warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol, cursing, SMUT, just your average fucking IN PUBLIC, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (but maybe wrap it before y’all tap it? also she’s on the pill so no sperm babies), slight praising, mentions of bodily fluids, sorta choking, also this is in 1st person pov??? 
request from @jakson2003 : rafe smut where the reader is dating jj but finds out he cheated on her so she gets drunk and ends up on the side of the road then rafe finds her
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Most of the time, I maintained the status of being the chill, nonchalant girl. I was usually phased by very little. However, JJ made me feel things I never even thought were possible. He was broken and in many ways, so was I. 
It was probably the reason I was driving back to figure 8, absolutely pissed off and in tears. Catching JJ shacking it up with some girl in the chateau was yet another heartbreak added to the list. But hey, how can I be mad when everyone warned me that’s who he was. 
Moments like this were the ones when people would silently ask themselves how much worse shit can get. And oh, did it get worst. 
I found myself in the middle of the road with a broken down car. I screamed, punched the steering wheel, blamed JJ for being in this position; All of which ultimately did nothing. A groan slipped past my lips, as I sunk into the driver’s seat. 
Still, I figured there was no way it could get any shittier from here. But nevertheless, the dead battery on my phone proved me wrong. A sigh of defeat came out, as I grabbed the bottle of liquor I kept in the glove compartment. 
—— 
An hour had gone by and my figure was sat on the curb of the road. Not one person had sped past, thanks to taking the backroads. I was tipsy, but it wasn’t enough to help me forget. The memory of that blonde, blue-eyed fuck getting his cock sucked by some random girl kept replaying in my head. That was all it took to have me swigging another shot of alcohol. The small sting in my throat not even bothering me anymore. 
The bottle touched my lips, but left the minute I heard a car approaching. To my luck, that car happened to be Rafe’s. I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling a sharp breath and mentally preparing myself to talk to him. The sound of his door slamming shut filled my ears. His footsteps got closer, until it stopped. My head stayed down, even after my eyes caught sight of his shoes. 
“I”m really not in the mood right now, Cameron.” I said lowly. My voice raspy from all the crying and screaming earlier. 
“Even I’m not that much of an asshole to ruin your day any more than it already is.” He said, after locking eyes with my bloodshot, puffy ones. 
I nodded, before looking down. I felt his presence next to mine, as he sat on the curb. 
He didn’t say anything, rather just keeping me company. We sat in comfortable silence, both staring off into the distance. 
It was cut short, when he grabbed the bottle pressed against my mouth. “Hey, what the fuck?” 
I attempted to reach over him to get it, but his arm held me back, which I happily shoved to the side. 
“Cutting you off.” He simply stated. 
I scoffed. “So much for not ruining anything.” 
I quickly picked myself up, beginning to walk the opposite direction, when I heard him call out my name. 
“You really going to walk all the way home or are you going to come here and tell me why you’re sitting in the middle of the fucking road?” He questioned. 
I stopped in my tracks, taking a breath. 
“He cheated on me.” I seethed. My back faced him, not wanting to see his reaction; Or better yet, not wanting him to see the pained expression on my face. 
“Yeah, no surprise he’s an ass. So, what are you going to do about it?” He responded back. 
I turned around, inching towards him. He was now standing near my car. I wasted no time grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. I felt him kiss me back. It lasted all of a few seconds, before he pulled away. 
“You’re drunk, Y/N.” He stated, staring into my eyes. 
“Sober enough to remember his name.” I uttered back. 
My lips were mere inches from his, as I whispered, “You asked me what I was going to do about it- help me forget.”  
I couldn’t read the expression on his face before it briskly turned into a smirk. 
“How do you suppose I do that?” He chaffed.
“Fuck me so good that I’ll barely even know my own name, let alone his.” I enticed. 
That was all it took to have him pinning me against the hood of my jaguar. 
Rafe peered into my warm hazel eyes for any sign of uncertainty, only to find none. He gripped my neck, yanking my lips back onto his. 
The kiss was rough and sensual. I then felt him press a soft kiss against my collarbone. It was enough to foster a small pool of wetness between my thighs. 
My fingers wrapped around his dirty blonde locks, as my head tilted back, allowing him access to pepper a trail of tiny kisses down my neck. A quiet moan slipped past my lips as he sucked on my sweet spot.
His lips opted to place small hickeys on the tops of my breast. His hand grazing my bare chest when his fingers made its way under my shirt. My right nipple hardening from the slight pinch of his fingers. 
His other hand lingered down the front of my body, lightly trailing over the top of my shorts. 
“Rafe.” I breathed, my voice laced with desire. 
“Talk to me, pretty girl.” He hummed. 
“Touch me, please.” I glanced up at him, doe-eyed. 
He wasted no time unbuttoning my shorts, his hand slipping into my laced panties. He held my gaze, his eyes brimming with lust when he felt my arousal. 
He rubbed my bud softly, tracing his fingers between my folds. His thumb pressed against my clit, drawing figure eights. 
I let out a sigh of relief when he pushed two fingers into me. He slowly pulled them out, before inching them back in. He finger-fucked me at a torturously slow pace, taking his sweet time to tease me. 
Only after little whines left my lips, did he dare to speed up. His digits started pumping into me, my wetness coating his thick fingers. 
A soft moan erupted as he curled his digits, hitting my g-spot. 
His fingers started pumping into me at an ungodly pace, my hand reaching to grip his wrist, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. To no avail, he failed to slow down, edging me on further. 
Before I could cum, he pulled his fingers out. He stopped the whine ready to come out of my mouth by pushing his fingers past my lips. I sucked on it, tasting myself and humming lightly. He groaned at the sight, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants.  
My eyes followed, noticing the outline of his length. I quickly replaced his hands, opting to lightly stroke him through his pants. 
“Let me help you forget, pretty girl.” He spoke, softly. 
One of his hands came up to my chin, forcing me to make eye contact. Both our eyes brimming with lust. 
My soft browns maintained a pleading look, silently begging him to fuck me. A smirk slowly made its way onto his face, acknowledging the affect he had on me. 
I swiftly unopened his slacks, pulling his boxers down along with them. 
His hard cock sprung free, slapping against his abs. I refrained from licking my lips at his size. 
My fingers reached to touch him, sliding across his tip. I wiped off the pre-cum, bringing it up to my lips and licking my index clean. I stared at him as I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pumped him a few times. 
He grabbed my wrist, stopping my movement. He opened the passenger door, his gaze flickering to the seat, telling me to hop into the front seat. His hands hooked unto my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the seat. 
His tip rubbed against my slick folds a couple times, leaving me wanting more. I pushed my hips forward, right before he pushed into me. 
He gave me a few seconds to adjust before he retracted his dick and slammed back into me, causing a loud pornographic moan slipped out of my mouth. 
His strokes were short and hard, as he grabbed my hips, pushing himself further into me. I groaned as he lifted my left leg, resting it against his shoulder.
His cock sunk deeper into me with the new angle. My back arched, my top half falling onto the middle console, while his movements got faster. 
I screamed his name, as he pounded into my pussy. 
My mouth hung open and my hand reached to grip the headrest of the seat. His fingertips dug into my hips, certain to leave an imprint on my skin. He mercilessly fucked into me. 
One of his hands released my hips, lightly wrapping around my neck. He pulled me up by my throat, so he could see my face as his large cock teared into me. 
“You fuck me so good.” I cried out. 
“Yeah? How good, pretty girl?” He chaffed. 
“So fucking good, Rafe.” I moaned.  
He continued to rail into me, while I moved my hand down to massage my clit, moaning loudly as I touched my sensitive core. 
I felt a knot form in my stomach, before I clenched around him. My body arching off the seat and my toes curling. My breathing grew heavier as I came on his dick. 
His movements didn’t halter, chasing his own high. A throaty groan managed to slip past his lips, as he came inside me. 
Both of us stared at one another, struggling to catch our breaths. I gave him a half-hearted smile, which he returned. My eyes widened when he lowered his head and licked a stripe up my slit. His mouth began sucking on my clit. I let out a mewl, my hands latching onto his dirty blonde hair. 
He continued to tongue-fuck me, occasionally nipping at my tender bud. 
I hummed, throwing my head back. My vision blurred and my mind was decisively hazed. Maybe it was the pleasure or the sight of having the kook king on his knees on bare concrete in front of me, but in that moment everything was just pure bliss. I forgot every painful memory, every excruciating feeling and every person who had ever did me wrong. 
I gasped, as I released again on his tongue. He gazed up at me with a shit-eating grin, before cleaning me up. 
He helped me get dressed, prior to putting on his own clothes. 
“Let me give you a ride home, pretty girl.” Rafe spoke softly, offering a kind smile. 
And maybe it wasn’t just for a moment. 
— 
not my best tbh but i was supposed to post this a hot min ago 
and for everyone who requested something, i’ll be writing it soon lol
for the person that requested this, i hope you like it and i’ll probably end up editing it soon
royalstydia <3
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Note
Hi :D
I saw you're taking requests and was wondering, can you please write fluff with Bo Sinclair x GN reader where he sees the reader being really mad and breaking shit? (Preferably comfort at the end?)
Have an amazing day/ night,
PhantomCat 💜
BET!
A vase
A Bo x gn! Readership 
Fluff!
Warnings: fluff! Reader cuts hand,  blood, Bo and reader argue. Comfort and confession 
It all started when Bo kept flirting with some of the newcomers in town. You tried not to take it to heart until you saw her give him her number in front of you, while you worked on ‘finding’ a new fan belt for her and her friends car. You tried your best not to let it bother you, you really, really tried. But when they left to go explore the house of wax, which Bo so charmingly suggested, you two were left in silence. It kept that way for a bit until you finally said something.
   “You shouldn’t flirt with them..” you commented, as you cleaned up the garage, head looking down and focusing on your work. You heard him sigh loudly, as if annoyed that you were saying something stupid. 
   “ I think I’ll be just fine with what I do. Why does it matter?” He spat out, his southern drawl mixing in with his words. Your grip on the broom, now tighter. 
   “Because, why flirt with someone you’re gonna kill? Is it some sick game you like to play? Or just giving you her number would be enough to save her and her friends life?” You asked, with a sneer. Finally looking up at him. He scoffed at you and shook his head.
  “I suggest you mind your damn business about how I do things. You don’t see me bitching when you make comments about some of the guys that come in.” He commented, with sass. You laughed and and stared at him incredulously. 
   “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t bitch? Well here’s the difference smart guy,” you start, placing the broom against the wall and turn around to look at him once more. “ I don’t flirt with them, I barely talk to any of the people who come through. I just act like an innocent bystander in you and your brothers fucked up world that you’ve created. I don’t ask for much, nor will I. But when I do ask for the bare minimum, which is to NOT flirt with your victims, maybe just don’t. It’s creepy.” You finished. He walked toward you, only a step or two, a snear painted on his face. 
   “Don’t be jealous no one wants to get in your fucking pants. Not even Lester would try. Just because you aren’t pretty enough to get attention from me, doesn’t mean you get to tell me on how to act with girls who are.” He snided. You felt his words sting against you. They hurt, they were mean. Simple as that. He wanted to be mean.
   “Fine, you wanna be like that? Fuck you, have fun cleaning the fucking garage by yourself. Maybe I’ll prove you wrong and fuck that guy she was with.” You threw the broom at him and started to walk away. 
   “Don’t sell yourself too short now! Maybe he’s not into bitchy people!” You turn around to tell something else, but before you could, the group had already came back. Apparently the place was locked. You bit your tongue and walked away. Scolding the unknowing girl and her friends before walking back to the house. 
   You tried to keep yourself calm when you got back home. The place was cleaner, (thanks to you), and you went into the kitchen. You were gonna do something to get your mind off of the whole situation. To cook, maybe clean. Something, just something to calm yourself down. While you looked through the pantry for anything, his words kept replaying in your head. You hated how he would make fun of you when he was mad. He never liked losing arguments so he would reside to insults very quickly. It was never simple ones either, he’d go for insecurities or past mistakes you’ve made. He got personal. 
   You couldn’t find anything to do, so you just leaned against the counter, trying to calm yourself down. You felt your chest rising up and down, and your eyes watering. You wanted to stay calm, and not let his words get to you. You didn’t want him to win, yet here you were. Crying and angry, over his comments, again. Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest thing towards you, and smashing it against the wall behind you. It was glass or porcelain , you could tell by the sound of it shattering. Your breath was heavy as you looked down to the smashed bits of a vase Vincent had made. The piece now laid into bits on the floor. You looked over to your hand and noticed it was bleeding. You had no clue as to how that happened. You didn’t care either. You were gonna have to clean this up. And apologize to Vincent. You went to look for a broom, but before you even made it out of the kitchen the door opened, the sound of boots creaking the floors of the house. You turn your head to see Bo, walking in. You try your best to ignore him and kept looking for the broom.
   “Thanks for leaving early, I got to talk more to the girl, her name’s Amanda. Pretty little thing. Sucks that the garage wasn’t clean.” He commented and you looked quicker, trying to just get it done. “You didn’t haft’a be such a bitch about it,” he started. But before he could even finish, you started.
  “Shut the fuck up! I don’t care, I don’t care that you wanted to get laid! I don’t care that you wanted help! I don’t give a fuck about what you want! Why the fuck should I care about you, or your opinions! I slave around this fucking place making sure that everyone can come home to a clean house. Not even a thank you from anyone besides Vincent! AND HE DOESN’T TALK! I try so hard to appease you and your brothers, to make sure everyone is happy and yet no matter how hard I try. You don’t care! It’s never good enough. You are never satisfied with what I do. You haven’t liked me since I got here, or have even tried to get to know anything about me!  So I don’t care, I’m done. You can clean up the broken vase in the kitchen.” You finished. Your eyes stung with tears, you had your hands out as you expressed with anger about how you felt. That’s when he noticed your bloody hand. He looked like he was going to comment on it, you cut him off holding up said bloody hand. “Don’t. I don’t care what you have to say.” You tried stomped off into the bathroom to clean your hand. Before you could even walk away, he grabbed your wrist, you try to twist your hand away but his grip was stronger. You looked at him through hazy eyes. You tried jerking your hand away again, to no avail. 
   “Stop. Sit down. You probably wouldn’t clean it right anyways.” He muttered, annoyed. You scoffed at him. 
  “This is exactly what I mean. You don’t care, I don’t need your advice on how to care for myself. If I did take it, I’d probably end up with an even worse infection, let go.” You ordered. He didn’t though, he instead started to lead you towards to couch, you try to jerk your hand away again. Making his grip tighter as he jerked you foward. He tossed you toward the couch, you hands instinctively went infront of you. Your bloody hand smashing against the hard arm rest of the chair. You curse out and grab your hand in pain. “You fucking asshole! The the fuck is your deal?” You yell out. You turn to look at him but he’s already walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?!” You yell at him.
   “Getting the gauze and peroxide. Just shut the hell up for a moment, you’re giving me a fucking head ache..” he groaned. He came back a moment later with said items and a bandage. You were still holding your hand in pain. He got on one knee in front of you and tried to take your hand, but you pulled it away from him. He rolled his eyes at you. 
   “Don’t touch me.” You hissed. You were still pissed off. 
   “I don’t want to, you’re lucky I’m even trying to help you.” He grabbed your hand, softly. He then took the gauze and placed it on your palm, gently swiping the drying blood. It was silent when he wrapped your hand up, not a word spoken once he tied it. You looked up at him after he was done. He let go of your hand, expecting you to jerk it away from him instantly. But you didn’t, it kept in his. You were still upset, of course. You wanted to kick his ass still, yell at him for being rude. Anything just to let off steam that he created, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight anymore. 
   “Thank you..” you finally said after a long moment. He nodded his head curtly and began to stand up. “Where are you going?” You asked again. He shrugged and looked over at you from his shoulder, a small yet comforting grin on his face. 
   “Cleaning up the mess I caused in the kitchen.” You felt your face drop a little after he said that, it felt like he was making fun of you again, like the little progress you made was nothing now, blown in the wind. “Sit down for a bit, you deserve to just chill out for a while…” he muttered something at the end you couldn’t pick up “darlin’…” 
  “What?” You asked, still sitting on the couch. He shook his head and looked for the broom. Somehow he Magically found it in a place you had looked previously. You rolled your eyes at that, he was always hiding things to piss you off. But I guess it came in handy for things like this, no pun intended. 
After he had finished, he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. He grabbed the remote to the tv and put something on. Not like you two were actually watching it.
  “Vinny’s gonna throw a fit over that vase…” he muttered once more. You lightly chuckled at that, knowing it was gonna be true. You felt horrible for the broken vase, you were gonna have to make it up to him later. “If you want, I can take blame for it. I wouldn’t want him thinking that his ‘best friend’ broke it in a rage.” You winced at the words slightly. You already felt bad, but hearing that out loud wasn’t feeling any better. “He’d probably be more willing to accept I broke it, having a bitch fit or something. Yeah, he’d believe that.. I don’t mind getting yelled at by him.” He noted, shaking his head lightly and laughing to himself. He looked over at you, noticing you weren’t really saying anything. He felt kind of awkward, so he Scrooched a little closer to you. You immediately noticed and made a face. He held up his hands, in a way to show you no threat. “Look… what I said back there was…” he struggled for words. You lifted your eyebrows in curiosity. Was he finally gonna admit he was being an ass? His face looked as if he was struggling for words so you helped him out.
   “Rude, bitchy, unnecessarily mean?” You suggested. That got you a small laugh. He nodded and looked up at you again, taking off his cap and throwing it onto the coffee table in front of him. His hair a slicked back mess, you liked it like that. 
   “Yeah, we’ll go with whatever you feel like…” he said… a small moment of silence followed. He took a deep breath and released it with a long sigh once more. He placed his big hand onto your thigh, it caught you off guard but you didn’t flinch away. That gave Bo enough confidence to keep going. “I wanna say…” you didn’t make eye contact with you as he kept talking “I’m sorry..” damn him and his pride. This was the first time he’s ever apologized to you and he couldn’t even look you in the eye. But you didn’t care, you felt your eyes sting with more tears, and with s wobbly voice..
  “Look at me..” you asked softly. He did after a few long moments. “Say it again. I wanna hear you say it to my face.” You said, with a grin, eyes still welling with tears. He rolled his eyes, but looked at you once more.
  “I’m sorry.” He said again, the grip on your thigh tighter. You smiled and nodded your head. 
  “I might forgive you, if you get rid of that chick’s number.” You suggested with a small laugh. Bo quickly reached into his pocket and took out the piece of paper with Amanda’s number on it. Crumbled it up and threw it somewhere away from you both. You gave him an annoyed look. “I’m gonna have to clean again.” Wiping away the small tears that had snuck out.
   “It’s a piece of paper, you’ll live. So.. am I forgiven.. darlin’” you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked away from him. His hand never leaving your thigh. 
   “Maybe..” you muttered. He tsk’ed at you and grabbed your chin with his other hand. Pulling your face towards him. 
  “Nah, we ain’t doing that. You wanted me to look at you when I talk.” His grip on your chin, now a little tighter, pulling you every so closely, “ I’d like the same treatment. So,  do you forgive me?” You nodded your head, the burning in your cheeks now even hotter. He let go of your chin and flashed you a grin. “Good! Then I’m glad we’re on even ground. Vincent will be back in a bit, if he asks about the vase blame me. “ you nodded again and sighed.
   “I feel horrible for breaking it.” You mentioned quietly. Bo shrugged and looked over at the tv,       “he’ll be fine. It wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve broken in this house.” You look at him questionably. He looked back at you, his grin still painted on his face. 
   “What else have I broke in this house?” You asked Bo. You both heard a car pull up, assuming it to be Lester about to walk into the house. He looked back at you as he started to walk away. 
   “A pact that me, Vincent and Lester made when we first brought you in.” He confessed.
  “What pact?” You asked
   “A pact not to fall for your dumbass.” You felt your heartbeat faster at his words. 
   “Well how did I break that, if I wasn’t even involved in it?”
   “Oh you were,” he looked back at you. “Since you’re the reason I just broke it, like how I’m the reason you broke that vase.” He added. “Things come full circle Darlin’…” he walked away before you could ask him any more questions. Lester walked in with the dog, and you smiled to yourself. 
(This isn’t perfect but I’m not usually one to write fluff! So I hope this is good!)
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