#is still his abusive father and the fact that he was forced to hurt his own brother and possibly his other siblings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sgtgarricks · 2 months

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough

notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3

Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.

Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.

Being in the military has not been that different.

He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.

Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.

When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.

Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.

It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.

Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.

But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.

Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.

He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.

What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?

The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.

You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?

He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.

"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.

"'M alright."

Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.

A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.

The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.

Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.

He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.

He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.

Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.

Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?

Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.

"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.

"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.

Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.

The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.

"You alright, L.T.?"

Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.

"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."

Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.

His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.

This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.

While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.

Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.

"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.

Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.

"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.

"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.

"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.

"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.

"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.

Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.

"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.

Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.

"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.

Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.

"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.

"Yer welcome!"

Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.

He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.

"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.

"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.

Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.

He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.

"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

I see you.

"Don't mention it, sir."

The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.

They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.

He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.

He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.

He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.

"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.

"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.

You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.

Idiot, show some dignity.

It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.

You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.

"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.

Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.

"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.

"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.

"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.

He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."

"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.

"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.

You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?

As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?

You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.

It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.

You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.

Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.

You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.

"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.

"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.

"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.

"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.

"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.

"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.

"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.

You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.

"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.

"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.

"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.

"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.

"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."

"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.

He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.

"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."

You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.

"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.

"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"

And he lets you.

"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.

Everything's going to be okay.

Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.

Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.

A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.

He really was here.

His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.

"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.

Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.

"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.

"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.

"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.

He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.

Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.

"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.

"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."

"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.

"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.

"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.

His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.

"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.

"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.

"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.

He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.

"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.

"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.

"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.

His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.

"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.

Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.

When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.

Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.

His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.

Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.

"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.

"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.

He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.

The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.

His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.

"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."

Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.

Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.

His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.

"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.

Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.

Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.

"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.

Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.

He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.

"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.

His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.

When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.

He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.

He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.

When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.

Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.

You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.

"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.

"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.

Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.

You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.

"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.

You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.

Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.

"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.

He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.

He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.

"I love you."

You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.

"I love you too, Simon."

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #cod ghost x reader #sgtales

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abramswife · 9 days

Text

HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua next week. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You understood the hype now. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

banners by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

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dckweed · 4 months

Text

NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

summary: in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

comment on this post to be added to the taglist for future parts!

The smell of cigar smoke hung thick in the air, the lighting dim in the dark office. You sat stiffly in a large leather chair, and across from you on the other side of the massive oak desk sat your step father, Boyd Augastine. He was a mean old man, and you had hoped in your time away at boarding school that he had graciously paid for, that he would have calmed down. That hope seemed to be more wishful than anything though, in fact, you thought he seemed meaner than the last time you had seen him at Christmas dinner.

“Boyd, please!” You begged, trying to fight back tears. You hated being home, if you could even call this massive estate that, it made you tense and irate, scared. You shake your head at the man in front of you, trying to remain as polite as you could lest you reap the repercussions. “You can’t make me marry that boy!” You say, tone as even as you could keep it. “Is this even legal?!”

He had at least let you finish speaking. “I can, and you will.” He sniffs, not even bothering to look up at you as he shuffled through some papers sitting in front of him. You assumed they were the documents pertaining to the horrid news you had just been given. “The Tillman boy is a fine young man, he’s strong and not entirely stupid, and his family is almost as powerful as me. You will marry him, and you will produce a male heir to take over both families when the time comes.” He says, finality in his tone and a hint of annoyance that you knew meant that the conversation needed to end before you wound up being hurt. “Lord knows i’m not about to leave my fortune to some half-witted emotional broads. You may not be my blood, but you are legally an Augastine, you will do your part.” You wince. “Unless of course, you’d rather one of the girls marry him when they come of age?”

You purse your lips, trying desperately to bite your tongue. He always knew exactly what to say to get you to do whatever he wanted, and you hated that you had no backbone sometimes. What were you supposed to do though? Your half sisters weren’t even in high school yet, they were mere babies still..they deserved to find their own happiness in life, with someone they actually loved..if you had to marry this boy for a few years and pop out a kid or two for them to be able to live their lives, just to satiate their father, then you would gladly do it. They didn’t need to take your place. Besides, it's not like divorce wasn’t a common thing amongst young married couples anyway.

He knows your answer before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak it and tosses his expensive fountain tipped pen across the desk. It lands with a thud and you pick it up with a trembling hand as he slides the documents towards you as well. “Your mother would be proud.” He says cooly, watching you scrawl your name across every highlighted area that needs signing. You wondered what the Tillman’s were receiving in return for this, they were already fairly well off from what you understood. Pretty much every man in their lineage had been sheriff of the godforsaken county, law ran in their blood, and it paid well too. But who's to say that they weren’t being paid handsomely for this?

You felt as if you had just signed away your soul.

You toss the pen back to him, and give him his stupid papers back before standing and turning on your heel. You didn’t care if you hadn’t been dismissed, you were done. You needed to be alone, you needed to cry. You stride across his large office, and just as your hand touches the brass knob of the heavy door, his voice rings out.

“You’re to be married in two months' time, wedding planning begins tomorrow.” You clench the knob, fighting back the tears. He didn’t deserve to see you cry. “Sleep well, Pearlie.” You swore on your mama’s gravestone that the nickname she had given you dripped with venom when it came from his mouth. Sometimes you wished you could drip actual venom into his mouth, shut him up forever. It was a soothing thought when you were younger, before he had shipped you off to boarding school.

You make your way down the long carpeted hallway to the large wooden staircase, climbing them as quickly as you could. You could hear your sisters, Victoria and Lucy in their room giggling about something that had happened at school, and you smiled as you pressed your ear to the door. You had worried the whole time your mother was pregnant that the girls would be treated just as horribly as you were when your mother wasn’t around, that they would have to hide bruises and emotions and pretend that everything was okay just like you did, but they were his own flesh and blood, his own life force, he could never act such a way towards his own blood. But they weren’t boys, so they also weren’t good enough to take over his fucking business.

You head a little farther down the hall, closing and locking your own door behind you as you slipped into your room, the only place that occasionally felt safe to you when you were here. “I wish you were here, mama.” You whisper to the photo sitting on the dressing table right next to the door.

True to his word, the wedding planning started the next day. You were awoken by your sisters’ nanny early in the morning, her knocking at your bedroom door loud to your pounding head. You had spent the night crying and you were paying for it dearly.

“Miss Pearl,” Her ever pleasant voice calls through the thick wood as you sit up in bed. “Boyd is requesting you downstairs, your betrothed and his father have arrived..” You glance at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning. You were used to waking up around this time for school anyway, you had only been home twenty-four hours by this point. “He’s not too pleased this morning,” Her hushed voice comes next and you sigh, leaning your head back into your pillow.

“Thank you, Lorraine,” You say loud enough for her to hear, your thick comforter falling off of you as you sit up. “Tell them I'll be down soon, please..” She doesn’t respond but you hear her footsteps fade away from your door.

You stretch before swinging your legs over the side of your bed, rolling your head from side to side. You knew it was in your best interest to play along with Boyd’s scheme, and he would know if you were half assing or catching an attitude the moment you walked into the room. If you were going to do this, then dammit, you were going to do this right.

Within fifteen minutes you were dressed in a sleeveless white dress that flowed down to your feet, the top of it pushing your breasts up in the illusion of a push-up bra. You had purposely bought this one a size or so too small for that effect while you were still at school, wanting to impress one of the guys you had been previously dating before graduation. You left your hair down to fall around your shoulders, brushing it and using one of your favorite hair serums to run through it with your fingers, leaving a nice smell before you slid on a glossy lip oil and mascara, with a spritz of your favorite perfume to your wrists.

With one last look at the photo of your mom, silently wishing she were here with you to help you through this, you open your door and make your way barefoot down the hallway and stairs.

You hear their voices when you come off the stairs in the middle of the grand hallway on the first floor, floating out of the massive dining room that was hardly ever used. You don’t pause, afraid that if you did it would be all you would need to turn tail and hide in your bedroom forever, and head immediately for the doorway, waltzing in as if you weren’t interrupting their apparently humorous conversation.

You paint a smile on your face as Boyd narrows his eyes at you, a look that you knew meant he wasn’t at all happy with you and you were certainly going to hear about it later. “Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” You say, kissing his cheek to keep up the appearance of a loving father and daughter relationship, something you had been doing since you were ten. He couldn’t have the world knowing that he despised his late wife’s daughter, could he? You squeeze his shoulder. “The drive up from school must have exhausted me more than i realized, i didn’t mean to sleep in and miss greeting our guests.” You shoot them an award winning smile as well as you smooth out your skirt, taking your seat next to Boyd, but across from the Sheriff and who you assumed was his son.

Boyd hums and you just know that he’s boiling with rage at you, though in your defense, he hadn’t informed you that there would be a breakfast this morning. “You haven’t missed much, we were just talking about your horse actually, and your award from Eventing last season.” Just the topic brought another smile onto your face, a real one this time.

“That was a close one too, we were neck and neck with our second place competitor..” You had spent the majority of the time after the event wondering if Boyd had paid off the judges to put you in first, though you did know that you had put in a lot of training hours with Bubbles, and it had clearly shown. Besides, Boyd didn’t like you nearly enough to pay off the judges just to see you place first in any sport, let alone Equestrian Eventing.

The older man sitting across from you, the Sheriff, smiles what appears to be a genuine smile at you. “You love your horses, I can tell from the way your whole face just lit up like the sun had touched it..” You can’t help the blush on your face, and judging by the look on his sons face as he looked at you, you had just done something right without even knowing it. “You and I already have something in common with each other, perhaps i’ll make time to take a ride with you this weekend..” His sons face completely changed at the mention, you would say it resembled a sort of panic.

“I would love that!” You exclaim, more than pleased to spend any kind of time on your horse, even if it was with your soon to be father in law. He nods at you in return, and nudges his son, as if communicating with him.

Breakfast is served not too much longer after that, and the time is spent with your step father and the Sheriff talking about things you couldn’t even have pretended to care about in that moment, like golf or what the government was doing, while you and the boy across from you shared a couple of glances, staying silent unless spoken to.

You had to admit, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. He wore a black polo shirt underneath of what you could only assume was a bullet proof vest with a velcro patch that said Sheriff across the chest. His hair was slicked back away from his face, and you noticed a tattoo peaking out of one of the short sleeves stretched across his bicep. Oh, he was certainly handsome, but probably not the type to ever be happy with a girl like you..nor did you think you could be happy with him.

You were obviously younger than him at only eighteen (your birthday thankfully just before your wedding date), you had just graduated highschool. You had no job, and your only future now lay with the man in front of you. He didn’t speak too much, and you couldn’t tell if it was because he was a naturally quiet person, or if it was because his father and Boyd were obviously the alphas in the room and from what you could gather, weren’t to be bothered until they bothered you first. You didn’t mind that he was older than you, though you guessed he was at least mid twenties if he was already a cop. You kind of liked the thought of being with someone older than you, the boys you had been with at school were all dipshits and childish. You hoped that he wasn’t the same. And if he was, well, at least he was handsome to look at.

The boy, Gator, looked up at you from across the table. You decided that his eyes were hazel, a beautiful color for a decidedly beautiful man. You give him a shy smile from where you sat, raising a mug of your favorite breakfast tea to your lips. You noticed the way he licks his lips, his eyes darting to your mouth and back to his plate once you had set your cup down on its saucer. Well, you thought, at least he’s clearly attracted to me. Maybe our marriage won’t be completely boring..

You had long ago tuned out the droning voices of your step father and your soon to be father in law, using your fork to pick around at the fruit salad you had served yourself for breakfast, adding a little yogurt to it here and there. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully eat, your stomach uneasy the more you thought about your impending marriage. God, how was arranged marriage even still a thing? How was this even fucking legal? You made a mental note to ask Boyd for copies of all of the documents you had signed so you could take them to a lawyer in town somewhere, have them double check that the documents were in fact legal. If there was anything you could do to get out of this, you were willing to do it.

You’re jolted from your thoughts by Boyd’s voice, and you jump, startled. “Sorry, i was day dreaming..” You say, shaking your head with a small giggle, hoping that he hadn’t been trying to get your attention for too long. You can see Sheriff Roy give a small smile from across the table, another nudge to his son.

Boyd gives you a subtle eye roll as he faces you, and you can tell from his body language that he’s upset with you for zoning out. You were certain to hear an earful about it tonight and that made you nervous. “Roy and I have some business to attend to in my office,” He says, giving a pointed glance to the boy sitting across from you guys. “How about you take Gator on a walk around the grounds? The girls are out getting piano and violin lessons right now, you won’t be bothered for a while.” Is he trying to tell me to fuck this boy? You wondered disgustedly, you knew Boyd was..well, Boyd, but really?

You want to say no, you want to tell him to marry the boy himself if it was that important to him, but you’re afraid of what could possibly happen to you if you do, so you paint another smile on your lips and look over to your husband to be. “I’ll show you my horse!” You say, setting your napkin next to your plate as you stand, walking around the table to lead him out into the foyer. “The barn is a little ways out there,” You say when you notice him following you out of the dining room. “Hope you don’t mind a little walk..”

He follows you silently through the formal living room and into the kitchen, straight back into the mudroom where you bend over to put your well worn boots on. They were brown, and the leather was starting to wear down on them but you didn’t mind, they still got the job done. They were a gift from your mama and you would wear them until they fell apart, and even then you would probably duct tape them back together again.

He’s gentlemanly enough to hold the back door open for you, and you breathe in his scent as you brush past him. He smells good, his cologne floods your scents. Its a woodsy kind of scent, mixed with a little bit of leather, and something a little fruity that you can’t quite name and you wonder what the hell it is as he falls in step next to you as you both walk off of the porch. His hands are slipped into his pockets as you guys walk, a casual look, and you notice that he’s tall too, even in his work boots.

You realize that he’s not going to make the first step to conversation.

When you’re a good enough distance away from the house, out of sight of Boyd’s office, you stop abruptly and turn to face him, the sun beats down on his face even with his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. He stops too, tilting his face down at you, an eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face. God, you though, he really is handsome.

“Can I help you with somethin’?” He asks, his drawl washing over you. That was the first time he had spoken and good lord his voice could do things to you if this were any other kind of situation, you just knew it. His shoulders are squared, and you realize that now, alone with you, he is the alpha male. You kind of like the vibe that rolls off of him, but it makes you wonder why he cowered when he was in the same room as your guys’ fathers.

You look around, lips pursed and hands on your hips as you thought. “Look,” You start, meeting his gaze under the brim of his hat. “The way I see it, neither of us particularly wants to be in this situation.” He hums in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest as he listens to what you have to say. “Neither of us are happy, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t at least try to be friends..we’re both stuck doing this, and even though i wasn’t given a choice, I would still like to at least be friends with the person i’m marrying in two months..”

He sniffs and looks around for a moment, and for the first time, you see a smile on his face and you couldn’t help but think it was beautiful. “Alright then,” He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. “Let’s be friends.”

taglist:

@ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer

#gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #joe keery #fargo season 5

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nelkcats · 1 year

Text

Consequences

When he felt compelled to take over as Robin in order to save Batman from himself, Tim didn't have high expectations; he didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce, he didn't expect to acknowledge the fact that his parents were abusive by leaving him alone for months, he didn't expect anyone to care if he ate or not, and in general he didn't expect to gain a family.

And for a while he thought that everything would get better: he gained brothers, he had a caring father, he had no financial problems or had gotten sick; And yes, maybe Robin's patrols were harsh at first, maybe Bruce's words when he was angry reached his heart and hurt him deeply, but he was fine.

Until he wasn't, at some point he felt more abandoned than ever even though he was surrounded by his family. When he was talking to his boyfriend, he realized that everyone took him into account but no one really appreciated what he did.

At first he didn't understand why Danny looked at him concerned and kept asking if he was okay while he told him an anecdote from his life as a vigilante; they had known each other for a while (Alfred had noticed, the others hadn't), they started talking, dating in coffee shops and even revealed the fact of being vigilantes after a few months on a relationship, that's when they started sharing anecdotes with each other.

Danny mentioned that he was being a hypocrite for caring so much about his stories when his were just as bad. Tim didn't get it until he started to see things from another perspective.

He never realized how much it hurted how Bruce had never thanked him for helping when he was lost in time, or how Dick avoided talking about his Robin time by concentrating on Damian, he thought he could understand but that didn't make it any better, Jason's nickname was beginning to make sense.

He didn't realize how broken he felt when Jason tried to kill him and blamed him; He was his childhood hero, Tim loved Robin because Jason put him in the stars, however, no matter how many times he explained to his brother that the only reason he had taken the suit was because he had no choice, and that he felt forced to blackmail Batman to be his Robin before Bruce became what he hated most. Jason still didn't care, still called him Replacement over and over again, blaming.

Or Damian who kept trying to kill him, refusing to acknowledge him, and when he defended himself he ended up getting reprimanded. Not even Bruce thanked him for all the work he did in taking over the company as CEO. His entire family went on with their lives without repercussions.

Maybe he was being naive as he refused Danny's requests to run away from home and stay with him, at least for a few days so they would miss him. He felt like a broken record repeating the phrase "it's okay, they're trying, they can change", the look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn't doing a good job on believing his own words.

The mansion made him feel small at times, ignored; it was fortunate that Alfred was actually paying attention to him and offering a cup of hot chocolate at such moments.

At some point he couldn't take it anymore, Jason and Damian's comments had gone too far, Bruce's lack of response along with Dick's laughter commenting that they weren't saying it in a bad way only made him angry, so he left the cave and called to Danny, he told him it was time to go.

He said goodbye to Alfred, Cass, Duke and Steph who had generally not contributed to his decision, and he regretted that he couldn't stay longer to get to know them better, but the damage had been building up for a long time.

He wrote a letter detailing his reasons to the rest of the family, leaving along some clues to let them know that he had left of his own free will and they wouldn't be able to find him even if they wanted to, he sighed as his anger turned to resignation.

"Are you ready?" Danny questioned, taking his hand gently as they walked out of the mansion.

"Ready as I'll ever be"

That's how Timothy Jackson Drake said goodbye to his home dimension and headed to the infinite realms, of course he was going to sneak in a couple of times to help his friends but never when his family is around. He hadn't expected the life in the palace or the marriage proposal that came years later, but although the place was gigantic, Tim felt good in it, comfortable, appreciated.

Time in the Realms passed quite quickly, unlike his original dimension, so years for him were a couple of months for his family.

He found it ironic that Danny was summoned as the Ghost King by Ra, who had the nerve to order the "creature" to give him the secrets of the Lazarus pits, offering the Batclan as sacrifices. Tim looked at the time portal connected to his home dimension (That Clockwork had given him to watch his family and friends, even if he was upset he was not going to let them die) wondering if he should interfere.

It was decided when Danny called Fright Knight to deal with the nuisance that was Ra, and he accompanied him as a royal adviser (regardless of his second title as ruler, he actually liked being a part of strategizing better and Danny was happy to give in to his wishes).

With a weary sigh he crossed the portal and began to recite Ra's crimes, indicating how he had damaged the balance between life and death since he corrupted the ectoplasm on the Lazarus pits to extend his life at the same time that Frighty stopped the man.

No one in the room bothered to pay attention to the stupefied bats who were watching the missing member of his family, but years older, that apparently was the Ghost King royal adviser. They tried to call him but Tim just gave them an annoyed look before continuing with his work.

By the time Fright Knight took Ra completely chained through the portal, they finally saw the ghost king move, he started kissing Tim's face repeatedly, which had turned his frown into laughter.

The moment they finally processed the scene they both disappeared, and well, weren't those the consequences of their own actions?

----

Thanks to @unadulteratedsoulsweets for the general idea, I enjoyed writing this! Even if it ended up a little bigger than I expected

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lovelywritinglady · 2 months

Note

fem! muzan with androphobic reader? (fear of men) It was, at first, an arranged marriage done by her father who doesn't care nor console this phobia so they force reader into it to try and 'make her better' (even though the father is who made such a fear manifest) obviously, he would uh, deal with the father and console reader as fem, you know? i want angst & fluff pls

Women Do It Better

Fem!Muzan x fem!reader

Angst, readers father is abusive, mentions of death, blood, gore. Some fluff and Female Muzan. It's hinted at that reader was sexually assaulted. I added a little more angst than what was originally requested. Triggering topics-mentions of SA and use of slut and other hurtful words. Muzan is out of character.

"Please father don't make me do this! I will do anything else, but please do not make me marry him." You pleated with your father even though deep down you knew he wouldn't listen.

"Shut your mouth you dammed brat. You will do as I say and I will not entertain your hysterics!" He spat grabbing your left wrist so tightly that you were sure that it would bruise.

"No!" You screamed trying to shake your wrist free and grabbing on your fathers hand trying to push it off.

"You stupid worthless bitch!" your father screamed in a raging fury as he slapped you with the back of his hand. You then landed on the ground with loud thump as your cheek stung and tears were streaming down your face. "You will marry this man as he is the only man that has ever given the slightest interest in you. Your body has been tainted ever since you let that boy have his way with you. You're disgusting and I have no idea why this man wants filth like you in the first place." He told you without an ounce of care for what that "boy" did to you in the past. Even though the boy in question was a close friend of his and when you told your father he called you a liar and a slut. He then told everyone that it was the servant boy that he had hired and that you were the one who seduced him. You knew that your father never loved you, but that was the moment you really knew he couldn't give a shit about you. Your fear of men steamed from that and the fact that your father is a terrifying man who has no heart whatsoever.

The next day...

You stood next to your father at the most most beautiful house you had ever seen. It was dark out but the house was well lit. You had a small smile on your face looking at it and the beautiful garden that was out front. You noticed all kinds of flowers that you had never seen before planted and you wondered where they came from. Your smile faltered as soon as reality sunk back in. You looked at your father that had a bored expression on his old and wrinkly face. Your life was about to drastically change and he couldn't care less, not like you were surprised.

"Damn bastard making us wait outside in this damn heat." You heard your father grumble quietly as he crossed his arms.

Just as your father grew impatient, the doors to the magnificent house opened and revelied a man with short curly hair and a hard to lead expression on his face. You got chills looking at him and fear consumed your body as you shook slightly. You father took notice of this and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your injured writs making you finch slightly as you both made your way into the house. As you entered you noticed the smell of baked goods. A delightful smell that reminded you of when your mother was still alive. You felt comforted and your anxiety went down a little.

You and your father followed him into a large living room with a roaring fire that warmed the entire space. You both then sat down on a rather comfortable maroon colored couch as he sat across from you on a large arm chair that resembled his fiery red eyes. There was a gold table in front of you. The space a round you consisted of beautiful paintings of scenes that you had never seen painted before. The walls were a deep red with gold accents on the trim. The flooring was chestnut wood that looked as though it had just been polished. A fire place adorned the space as ebony in color. You were in awe of the space, but you could feel your fathers gaze upon you, so you stopped noticing and kept your head down.

For a little while no one spoke a word. Your father looked at the space with jealousy as this type of living would never be his reality even after the money he would receive after essentially selling you to this strange man. Just then, a thin woman who looked rather sickly entered the room carrying a tray of the baked goods from earlier as well as tea for the three of you. She placed the tray down turning to the man with the fiery red eyes and bowed deeply, slightly shaking as she did so. She then left without making a sound and the whole situation made you shake just like that woman. Silence still consumed the space until your father got aggraviated and spoke in his booming voice.

"So are we gonna get this buissness over with? I've got better things to do than to stick around this brat any longer." He said in a gruff tone as he stared directly at the strange man.

"Yes, I suppose you would have nothing to do." The man responded.

"Whatever." Your father huffed cleary annoyed

"I am Muzan Kibutsuji, I am to be your husband." Muzan spoke, ignoring your father.

"I'm y/n l/n, It's nice to meet you sir. You have a lovely home." You complimented him doing your best to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you, I hope its to your liking as this is where you will be living." He told you, giving you a small smile.

"Thank you sir." You spoke softly

"Now on to important business. I have the documents here to for you to sign Ms. L/n, and I have already signed myself." Muzan declared handing over the documents to you.

You took the documents, placing them neatly in front of you. Taking the capped pen in your dominamt hand you held the pen on the line. Your hand was shaking as your uneven breaths didn't go unnoticed by your father and Muzan. Your father scowled at you as he leaned in pinching your side making you yelp quietly.

"Sign the damn paper girl." He snapped quietly letting go of your side. This terrified you, and you ended up writing out your name in sloppy letters. You then quickly capped the pen and put it on to op the documents. Your father sighed sharply, snatching the papers off the table giving them a scan. "Even your handwriting is shitty." He commented scoffing as he handed the papers back to Muzan. Your father grew impatient as he tapped his foot rather loudly. "Alright Mr. Kibutsuji, I'll be leaving her with you now. I trust the money has been sent to my house." You father rudely spoke as he stood up and began leaving.

"Yes, the money should be at your residence now." Muzan responded as his gaze never left yours. It was almost as though your father was an afterthought and you were the main attraction.

"Good." your father said back walking out the enormous door until his figure was not seen nor his footprints heard.

You contuniued to sit in your place as the fire was startuing to go out and the moon hit its peak as it shone throughout the room. You felt as though time itself was scared to move. Muzan kept his bleeding red eyes you. You couldn't help but stare back at him. You were terrified of the opposite sex, however, this man here seemed gentle, almost kind. Even still, he terrified you and you were scared that he would treat you the same as your father did. The silence ended as Muzan asked you an interesting question.

"What are you scared of?" He questioned suddenly leaning in as he asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but what do you mean?" You asked him not understaing why he would ask you such a strange question.

"It's a simple question, Y/n. What are you scared of?" He asked once more. With a flash he wa ssuddelnly in front of you.

"How did you do that?" You asked with slight apprehension in your voice.

"Answer the question y/n." He demanded in a soft voice as to not scare you.

"I.." I paused staring into his beautiful eyes. "I'm scared of my father and any man.." You told him now terrified that you just told him the very thing he can use against you.

"Thank you, close your eyes and do not be alarmed." He told you and for some reason you did just as he told you. However, tears left you eyes as you closed them. You them felt a cold but soft hand wipe them away. You felt soothed slightly but your heart was pounding heavily.

"Now, y/n, open your eyes." He spoke and once again you did. To your absolute shock, he was now a woman? Muzan had graceful hair and his face was angelic. She wore a traditional kimono with jewels and ribbons adorning his garments. You began crying simply because Muzan was the most beautiful thing you had ever witnessed.

"You're crying, why is that. Aren't you less afraid of me now that I'm in this form?" Muzan spoke as the depth of his voice remained unchanged. However, she sounded as though she was offended.

"No, I'm not scared, but how did you do that?" you reassured as a bright smile appeared on your face for the first time in many years.

"I am a demon and can change my form to whatever I like." Muzan spoke.

"My mother told me about demons and how they eat people. She told me that some of them are beautiful, but that some of them are horrible. How the sun can kill them and how strong and dangerous they can be." You told Muzan not realizing that you might have spoken out of turn.

"Yes, demons are beautiful and I am the strongest among them. We do in fact consume humans and the more we consume, the stronger we are." She told you as you continued to trace every detail of his meazmurizing face. The fear you thought you should have never appeared as you felt as though you had been around demons all of your life. She seemed to notice that you weren't scared.

"Aren't you scared that I might eat you?" Muzan questioned

"I'd prefer not to but if you were to, there would be nothing I could do." You told her honestly as the power gap between you to is unimaginable.

"You're quite right I could." Muzan commented as she flared her piercing fuchsia red eyes. "However, I would never eat one so precious." she added which shocked you to say the least.

You were so distracted by her and her strange words, that the most important question seemed to pop in your head only now. "So why did you want to marry me? My father told me that it was you requested to marry me and offered to pay for my hand in marriage." You asked him now realizing the importance of the question you had just asked.

"Your blood of course. It has rare and quite special indeed, not many humans have it. Which means you are a unique and rare creature indeed and someone I need by my side at all times." She told you looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, even though you couldn't recognize the look at all.

"I didn't even know my blood could have ever been important." You said, mostly to yourself.

"What is it you want most in the world?" He asked you

"To be happy." You responded honestly

"What would make you happy then?" She continued. You took a bit of time to think as you had never thought about how to be happy. You knew that there were many things you wanted to do, but you decided to tell her the first thing that popped in your mind.

"I never want to see my father again." You told her hoping that maybe just maybe she could make that happen.

"As you wish." She responded rather simply and you felt like a bag of rocks was lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a breathe of relief and could tell that Muzan was someone of their word as you had been around numerous men that weren't.

"Thank you." You whispered to her

"I will call the maid to take you to your room. I trust you might be comfortable having your own space. In the meantime there is buissness that I must address." Muzan spoke and as soon as she did she was gone.

A few moments later, the same maid that you saw earlier made her way in. Her quiet nature remained unchanged as did her facial expressions. She quietly gestured for you to follow her, and so you did giving her a smile of gratitude as you did. Your new room wasn't too far from the living room. However, this room was a tiny bit smaller and had a fireplace of its own placed on the very center of the room. There were two large windows on both sides of it adorned with maroon colored drapes. The windows themselves had a sort of black tint on them and you assumed that it was because of the danger of the sun. The bed lay to the right of the fire place and you swore it was the biggest bed you had ever seen. The bed sheets were also red and you could tell they were velvet. There were many tapestries that hung in the walls that depicted all kind of different scenes. Mostly containing images of demons. However, some of them contained botanical scenes that fluttered your heart a little because of their unique beauty.

"Did Mr. Kibutsuji decorate this room?" You asked the maid as she stood in the doorway.

"Yes miss, he has particular taste but your room is yours and the master has told me that you may decorate as you like." She spoke in a soft voice. "Thank you, may I ask your name?" You asked her as you deemed it rude that you only call her maid. "Yes miss, it's Ms. Fujimita, but you may call me whatever you feel fit to." Ms. Fujimita told you.

"Wonderful, thank you. I think I might sleep now." You told her as you could feel the tiredness start to consume your body.

"Yes miss, goodnight." She spoke closing the doors as she left.

The closets that were located to the left of your bed opened up and it felt like you had two rooms. The space was massive and rows and rows of clothes were occupying the space. You remember your father telling you that you didn't need to pack anything and you just assumed that you would be wearing the same clothes over and over again. How wrong you were. You wanted nothing more than to browse, but your eyes betrayed you. You then saw some sleep clothes that looked comfortable and quickly took your clothes off and put them on.

You leaped into the bed letting your body mold with the mattress. Soon enough you fell into a deep slumber listening to the sounds of the fireplace crackling. Suddenly, you felt the bed shift and your body jolted up. A scream left you and you scrambled further up the bed trying to get away from the figure that dared to sit on you bed. You heard the faint sound of shushing and a voice telling you to calm yourself. You were confused and quite sleepy to fully make out the voice. However, you noticed the figures eyes and knew exactly who the "person" was.

"Hush now y/n and have no fear. You will be happy here now I promise you." Muzan spoke in a comfortable whisper.

"Why, what's happen." you asked frantically still calming down from your panic. Muzan then, out of the blue, lit the oil lamp to the side of the bed. You were then able to see the the full beaiutiful appearence of Muzan. She was still in the female form, however, she was covered in blood but that did not take away the ethereal beauity of her. Still, a chill ran down your spine at the sight of the blood.

Muzan noticed your fear and quickly vanished with a flash. You were stunned to say the least, but it was short lived as she returned only now without the blood covering her body. You felt more comfort by this, but you couldn't hep but wonder whose blood it belonged to and a wave of sadness washed over your figure.

"Whose blood was on your clothes?' You asked hesitantly, however you needed to know. You put on a confident face, doing your best not to seem anxious. You noticed a slight change in Muzan's eyes and you couldn't pin point what it was.

"The blood belongs to someone who has caused you great suffering." Muzan simply said as she moved closer to you. Your heart beat fast as you already knew who it was. Your emotions were all over, but the one emotion that stood out was pure happiness. The thought of your father being dead delighted you and that terrified you. You thought to yourself, "Why am I so happy about this? Why am I okay with feeling this way?" You darting back in forth between your own morals to the point you thought you might go insane. Muzan, nit being the best at human emotion, decided that it would be best to simply hug you, hoping that this would ease your distress, and so he did.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You stiffed in the hug but melted as soon as you smelled the luscious scent of honey and jasmine. You then held her tightly breathing in her comforting scent. To you, it felt like it was an eternity of a hug and to Muzan she didn't seem to mind that you held her like this. She then broke the hug and took your face in her hands. She looked you in your now watery eyes giving your face a small stroke as she spoke.

"You are mine and now you shall be happy that your beast of a father is gone." She told you in an almost happy tone

"Thank you." You whispered still feeling slightly guilty for being happy that your father is dead. Although for most of your life that's all you wanted.

"I'm your husband, so it is only natural that a husband wants to see their wife happy." Muzan spoke honestly

"If you are my husband, then why have you decided to appear as a woman?" You asked feeling uncomfortable at the thought of Muzan being your husband but no problem with her currant appearence.

"Its simply because I know it makes you tolorate me. You may call me your wife it would make you tolorate me more." Muzan spoke taking her hands off of your face and placed them in her lap.

"Thank you, I'd like that. I don't just want to tolorate you, I want to like you considering we will be married." You mumbled slightly nervous that you just made her uncomfortable.

"Good, now get some sleep." She whispered gestering you to get comfortable again. Just as you were about to say it back she was gone. You smiled getting comfortable in your bed once again and feeling genuenily happy for the first time in years.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic!💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog!

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

L.W.L

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sidsinning · 9 months

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the movie aint better ya goofs (don't read if you don't wanna hear my slander lol,,,)

"Movie!Gabriel is better than show!Gabriel because he actually cares for his son and gets redeemed"

istg this fandom's obsession with redemption needs to END

Morally better character ≠ better writing

Can I just get a piece of media that tells kids "hey, ur abusive parent was an asshole, and even if they had humanity you do not need to reconcile and forgive them in the end" bc I feel like that's what show!Gabriel leans towards which is great

Gabriel barely talks to Adrien in the movie and suddenly when he sees him under CN's mask his entire reign of terror, his determination to see his dead wife again ends in a tearful hug lmao come on now

("but the ending where Adrien suddenly loves his dad again???"- Astruc has been pretty blunt on Twitter that this perfect society you see in S5's ending is built off of a lie, so Adrien is def not gonna just keep that view)

"Adrien actually stands up to his dad in the movie!"

Movie!Adrien is legit a normal human boy, not a sentimonster who is literally physically incapable of fighting back against whoever has his amok

He DOES fight back (even in S1 as CN!), but people like to remember the show only up to S3. Guess what, he learns to fight back and stand up for himself through his growing bonds and relationships with those around him through character development ✨✨✨

Also, he is an abused kid??? In the show?? How can you knock him down a peg for not fighting back,,, 😭 Adrien's lesson isn't that he needs to learn how to fight back, it's that Nathalie shoulda called cps sooner!!! In the movie they are much more of an estranged father-son pair than anything abusive. So obviously the back talk is much easier too. Movie!Adrien gets to go out alone and with friends unless his dad has specifically planted an enemy where he is. Show!Adrien has been beaten, mind controlled, forced to hurt Marinette, isolated and locked up, etc.- he has been TERRIFIED of his dad multiple times.

"Marinette isn't an obsessive stalker in this!"

SIGH.

Man I am so sick of this complaint- the show has never rewarded Marinette for her obsessive behavior. BC IT IS A CHARACTER FLAW. One they use for cringe comedic purposes, but a flaw nonetheless. Every time she has done anything that hurts others in pursuit of Adrien she is punished by the writers. And bc the show has an episodic monster-of-the-week format, this plot is recycled a lot (which is its own complaint). And guess what? SHE STOPS BEING OBSESSIVE. YEAH. SHE STOPS DOING THAT SHIT- so what do you want now??? She grew out of it after it costs her the miraculous so why tf are yalls still hurling this at her like its a L,,,,

This Marinette is just a watered down boring version of show!Marinette. She's just a girl who gets insecure at times but grows confident bc she's Ladybug. Ok. So is our Marinette but MORE. Our Marinette is super smart, creative, resourceful, an overthinker, extremely kind and selfless to others, gets jealous and reckless when her emotions get the better of her, etc. She is fully formed even after watching just 3 episodes of S1.

Like the fact that they didn't even bother to include the oh so important hook of the show- her lucky charm power- shows they didn't care about doing this story justice- its so transparently lazy writing 💀 (miraculous of creation where??? CN gets cataclysm for destruction but what is movie!LB bringing to the yin yang table,,,)

Legitimately all the comparisons I'm hearing from people saying the movie is better are from those who just aren't caught up with the show where Marinette is no longer toxically obsessive with Adrien, where the plot/lore is insane but 10000000x better and more creative than what the movie gave us, the love square was much better developed EVEN FROM JUST THE ORIGINS EPISODES, etc. Istg these people stopped at S3 where the show was at its worst (if I were to pinpoint it)

Everything is so watered down or changed for the worse

Adrienette bonding was 1 conversation and 2 seconds about his mom in a voiceless montage. Marinette didn't fall for him bc of his kindness after a misunderstanding, it was bc he looked handsome in the library's light lol. He called her weird and didn't think twice about putting on his earphones to listen to more alpha podcasts. You really do wonder why she likes this dude over her partner CN bc they have no connection at all.

Movie!Adrien was an asshole don't you dare do show!Adrien dirty by comparing him to this ellen degeneres alien lookin mf

When movie!Adrien is crying after Mari reveals herself as LB, unlike the show, here you're like "yeah no you only like her now bc she's LB lol"

Anyways feel free to enjoy what you enjoy but uuuuuhhhh this movie getting a 3/10 for me would not rewatch

Oh wait the good things

-Visuals

-Some Ladynoir scenes were cute, like them playfully fighting with the accidental wall pin

-I liked Ladybug moving away from CN's kiss- nice hint of angst

-Chloe's coffee stain scene

-Luka cameos were cute

songs were bad or mid

ya das it

I guess feel free to talk to me in my inbox about your own thoughts if you wish (respectfully plz)

#ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug #ml movie salt #ml movie #miraculous awakening #sidrabbles #rant #making me dick ride for this show so hard is so sick and twisted but i cant let the germy stans remain unscathed #millionaire corporate ceo is ur manz huh come on now

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serialunaliver · 6 months

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one thing that's crazy to me: the fact that men are automatically less likely to win custody of their kids is not only false but this myth is a reason fathers are less likely to try and obtain custody.

most custody cases do not even occur in family court, and when they do, the man wins the majority of the time if he fights for custody. he is even more likely to win if he is accused of SA and CSA. my dad was able to win partial custody with a documented history of violent SA involving physical restraint.

i'm not sure why abusive men are favored--it could be because people assume the woman is lying to get custody, but then again, what about when his crimes are documented?

i've always wanted to be a lawyer to help kids like me failed by the system. as a result of all my dad did I ended up with trauma induced psychosis and this is why I wasn't FORCED to visit him, but still permitted to--and I did so after he threatened to do worse if I didn't. police were only monitoring him when he picked me up to make sure violence didn't occur. I was allowed to be alone with him once we drove away from the police station.

so it hurts to see the myth pushed...and know the reality, and all the kids forced to see their abuser (you can look up videos of children screaming for help trying to get away from their fathers and THE COPS STILL FORCE THEM TO SEE THE FATHER).

#ok to rb

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

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Can i request something platonic with the grabber? like maybe y/n is one of the kids he took and he grows attached or something

Platonic headcanons here we go!!!!

Headcanon/Preference # 29

Picture & gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

*I wrote this with the idea that the reader is like preteen to teen, female and comes from an abusive/neglectful home life. So ⚠️Warning⚠️ sensitive topics ahead!

✨Albert "saves" you~

• The first time Albert ever saw you, it was while you were at the hardware store he works at, shopping for house paint with your father. (Who of course was making you carry everything, despite being twice your size himself.)

• Initially he didn't really think much about it, or you for that matter. But when you were trying desperately to haul everything up onto the counter, you'd dropped a paint can, which spilled paint everywhere.

• He would have been upset with you, if your father hadn't immediately backhanded you as of you were a grown adult. The sheer force sent you flying to the paint covered floor, where you wept softly while you father yelled and berated you.

• It was then that he noticed how malnourished you looked, how pale, and the bruises on your arms and legs. The lavender sundress you wore, clearly way to big for you, and filthy long before you fell into the paint. Albert wondered subconsciously when was the last time you'd eaten, or gone outside to play?

• He kicked your father out, and begrudgingly you along with him. Because despite himself he didn't want to see you suffering. So for the rest of the day he devised a plan, and within a week of stalking you and your family, Albert kidnapped you and locked you way in his basement.

• He'd even gone out of his way to clean up the basement a little, and put clean sheets on the musty mattress down there. He wasn't planning on hurting you like all the others, no no he was saving you! You just needed time to adjust to it, before he could move you to the spare bedroom upstairs he'd decorated just for you.

• The authorities actually didn't know about your disappearance until the school called. Your parents essentially just shrugged it off and told the cops you'd run away. So no one thought the infamous Grabber had snatched you. He only kidnapped boys after all.

• When you woke up to find Al watching you, sitting on the floor against the across the room. Initially you were startled of course, I mean who wouldn't be? But he spoke softly to you, assuring you that you were safe now. And you honestly believed him.

• He promised to return in a few hours with food and soda, and he kept his word. Bringing you a meal of baked linguini, which he had clearly picked up at a local restaurant. Along with your favorite soda, how did he know that was your favorite?

• When you inquired about it in a soft whisper, Albert couldn't help but chuckle behind his grinning mask, explaining that he wasn't a very good cook, but he wanted you to have a good first meal with him. He left out the fact of how he knew that was your favorite soda.

• Making smalltalk as he sat at the foot of the mattress, watching while you ate, you absentmindedly told him about how you're a fairly good cook. Stating about how your family always made you cook, clean, and maintain the house.

• Albert asked why you were so skinny then, if you were the one cooking. And you explained that your family kept you locked in a broom closet beneath the stairs when you weren't working. And you only ever got the scraps, and oftentimes expired or stale foods.

• That fact confirmed his suspensions about your home life, and it enraged him to say the least. You are a dream, a sweetheart, why would anyone hurt you? But he contained his anger as best he could, he didn't want to scare you after all.

• As the days went by, Albert made it a point to take care of you better than any of your family ever had. Al never wanted kids, still doesn't, but you become like a little sister to him. And he became someone you looked up to for protection.

• When Max was away Albert would let you come upstairs. And he'd let you bathe in peace and privacy, and also let you watch cartoons in the living room. He also provided you with new clothes, clothes that actually fit. And eventually he took down a TV and VCR for you, and a bunch of tapes. He didn't want you getting bored down there, when you had to be confined until Max left.

• Sometimes he'd even sit down there and watch the tapes with you, even bringing popcorn and candy for you both to munch on. It didn't matter what the movie was, he just enjoys seeing you happy and now much more healthy.

• He would show you all sorts of magic tricks, especially on days when you were sad, which was usually a result of having nightmares about your father taking you back, and locking you up in that musty broom closest. Al enjoys the sound of your laughter, and he smiles when you smile.

• Sometimes when you're feeling a bit more childish, due to not having a childhood, you play pretend with stuffed animals Albert brought you, and sometimes sometimes Al will play with you. He especially enjoys having tea parties, and it's the perfect time to show off his magic tricks.

• When it nears the time for you to move out of the basement, and into the room Albert has set up for you. He finally starts to visit you without his mask. The first time he took it off, he sat across from you and actually let you remove it. He figured it would be a good way to make you feel safe and comfortable.

• He was very pleased with how comfortable you'd become with him, with and without the mask. But the real thing that made Al so proud of you, was that you never once tried escaping, or been naughty in any way. You'd been very polite and proper the entire month and a half you'd been with him.

• When you finally met Max, you did as Albert asked you, and kept his little secret. Albert easily convinced his brother that you were a runaway that he found, and decided could stay with them. (Obviously not telling him how long you'd already been there.) And Max accepted his explanation without question.

• The room he moved you into was perfect in every single way. And he was so happy about how excited you got while examining everything within the room. That was the first time you hugged him, practically tackling him in a tight hug, which initially startled him, but he relaxed and hugged you back quickly.

• He knew you still needed an education, but he couldn't exactly enroll you in the public school, considering the county still thought you were a runaway. So he opted to homeschool you as best he could, which in turn took up all of his spare time. And the disappearances had suddenly stopped after you ran away. What a coincidence.

• One day when he was feeling particularly soft, Albert let you mess with his hair, which resulted in several braids with decorative beads and rings being put into his soft hair. He felt a little ridiculous of course, but you were so happy that he didn't mind it. Thank god Max wasn't home!

• You eventually take it upon yourself to try teaching Albert how to cook, which results in quite a bit of chaos in the kitchen, and a hell of a mess for you both to deal with in the end. But he's a fast learner when he's got such a great teacher assisting him.

• You also helped Max to sober up! And helped him to find a really awesome job, both of which Albert had thought were impossible.

• Samson of course took a liking to you, and often slept either at your feet, or in your bed with you, depending on what you were up to.

• Albert's lost count of how many times he's found you curled up with his dog like he was a big ol' teddy bear. Albert is also a teddy bear with you tbh, but no one say anything okay? Okay!

*Hope y'all enjoyed! 🥰

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will80sbyers · 2 years

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I dislike people hating on Jonathan because he's a stoner and useless (according to them). Like, we all go through hard times when we're just existing and losing motivation. I can't stand the Jonathan slandering.

abusive father

grew up poor

his peers made fun of him because he was poor and an introvert

felt forced to become the parental figure since childhood

thought him coming home late caused the disappearance of his little brother, his responsibility

thought his little brother was dead and his mother was losing her mind and didn't want to accept that

had to organise the funeral for his brother alone

found out that there are monsters out there and a parallel dimension, had to fight a literal monster at 16yo

had his brother back alive but he has to live with the fact that Will almost died because of his mistake, because wasn't there for him

the next year he finds out that Will is not okay, he is not himself anymore and has a monster inside, Will is not safe and he thinks it's his fault

has to watch his little brother be tied up in a shed and knows that if they don't get that thing out of him he will die

has to watch his mother hurt his little brother and his little brother hurt his mother and can't do anything about it

Will is safe in the end... but then the next year Jonathan finds out that actually no he is not, Nancy calls him and asks him where Will is... because he could be in danger... there is a big monster in Hawkins that is killing people now!

through all of this Jonathan knows that Will is gay and in love with Mike and is suffering for that too but he can't do anything to help him

they defeat the monster... it's over... but he finds out that his mother wants to go away from Hawkins and he has to leave his home and his girlfriend to go to California where he doesn't know anyone, he doesn't have anyone again.. but he knows his mother needs to leave Hawkins so he doesn't even complain to her about this choice

in Lenora he makes a friend but he is still afraid of leaving his family and not being there for them... he wants to be close to them in case they need his protection... he understands that he can't go to the same college as Nancy

Nancy was his only light in the dark in season 1 and he is in love with her so he doesn't want to influence her to follow him there somehow... he is also scared of becoming like his own father in the future... his stress reaches a new point and he needs to do something to stop thinking about it

people that blame Jonathan for dealing with his trauma by smoking weed and spending time with his first best friend in 17 years are saying that this kid doesn't deserve to finally BE A KID because he lost years of his life being a father when he doesn't have kids!!!!!!

HE IS STILL KIND AFTER ALL OF THAT. HE IS STILL SUPPORTING HIS LITTLE BROTHER FIRST UNTIL THE VERY END. HE IS STILL PUTTING HIS FAMILY FIRST.

talking bad about Jonathan... to me it's insane.

#jonathan byers #will byers #byler #mike wheeler #ask #jancy #nancy wheeler

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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year

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Could do tara carpenter x fem reader

R is Wrongly accuse of being ghostface and conviently disappeared even though she innocent *amber frames r by planting all the stuff the killer use in her bag and now everyone but mindy and Sam hate r as everybody suspect her of doing this except for mindy and Sam even to the point of hating her*

Tara is upset and hurt even believing that r is the killer because ghostface called and said stuff that only r knew about

*both Mindy and Sam have known r for a long time considering how sam used to babysit all of them and how attach r is to Tara when they were little. And they know r is not the killer as they know how much she loves and care for both Tara and Sam. And Sam was happy for r as she really approve of her dating her sister since she always was willing to do anything to make Tara happy*

Maybe have Tara and other come to r rescue *she was trapped in amber’s house the whole time which explain why she didn’t return their calls or text*

I really hope I did this request justice .........

Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader

Samantha Carpenter couldn't leave her little sister unprotected especially now as she had been attacked. She thought back to when they were younger and how she watched all of them.

Images of a young Mindy, Chad and Y/N playing with Tara in her backyard going through her mind. She'd laugh as she'd watch Mindy and Chad try to tag team to beat Tara in a game and Y/N always came to the rescue even when she knew she'd get the brunt of their force.

Her shiny (e/c) eyes always looking to her younger sister in complete adoration.

She remembered the day the girl ran in the rain searching every sidewalk for Tara's favorite necklace. The younger Carpenter heart broken until the two came back necklace in hand. Y/N even going as far as cleaning it and putting it in a jewelry box to keep it from getting lost again.

"Babe we're here." Richie broke Sam from her trance as she parked in front of the familiar house. She knocked quietly pushing the door open and finding her favorite kids sitting in the Meeks-Martin living room. She started introducing everyone as she hugged them going last with Y/N as the two stayed embraced just a little longer.

To Sam, Y/N was family. She remembered when she had first found out about her situation at home and the blatant neglect her parents gave her. She'd allow the girl to stay over for nights on end worried that her abusive father would bring harm to her. Sam barely spared a glance to Amber who just gave a fake smile in return. It took a moment before she realized the black haired girl was wearing Tara's necklace.

The group were discussing their list of suspects The former sheriff Dewey providing his insight as well.

"And where were you Y/n?" She saw the girl flinch from the corner of her eye as she and Amber began to stare each other down.

"Like I told the police I went out to get food."

"Suspicious." Muttered Wes. She turned her narrowed eyes to the blonde.

"Tell me Wes what motive would I have for hurting Tara?!" The boy gave a sarcastic grin.

"You mean besides the fact that she left you for Amber?" Y/N's jaw clenched as Sam's eyes shot up in surprise.

Amber chuckled shrugging.

"What can I say? The heart wants what it wants, and he does have a point. Didn't the police mention how the killer somehow knew about Tara's alarm system?"

You just grit your teeth not bothering to respond as Mindy went to defend you.

"If that's the case Wes then don't both you and Amber have just the same chance at being the killer?" The blonde and raven haired girl turned to the female twin.

"Excuse me?!"

"Seriously?"

Mindy scoffed. "Oh please Wes we all know about your crush on Tara even before she began dating anyone, and Amber may want to make sure no one can take her the same way she got her." She paused for dramatic effect. "If I can't have her no one can."

Chad and Liv still eyed Y/N who had yet to say anything to defend herself.

Amber just smirked as Wes panicked to defend himself.

"I have an alibi!"

"Aren't there usually two killers in the Stab films?" Liv spoke from beside her boyfriend.

"Not in the 8th film Liv stay in your lane." The pink haired girl scowled.

"I'm sorry and you are?" Richie asked.

"Liv, Chads girlfriend-"

"Of six months!" The overly cheerful boy finished making her kiss his cheek.

"And no one thinks that's suspicious?" Dewey spoke from his seat. He turned to Richie. "And how long have you and Sam been dating?"

Richie mumbled. "Six months."

Sam turned to Y/n.

"You guys finally got together?" It was the first question she'd ask since she got there. The younger girl nodded a small smile on her lips before it fell. She did not explain any further as she looked out the window.

Sam thought back to the day Y/n came to her for advice on her feelings for her younger sister. The poor girl felt as if something was wrong with her because she felt warm whenever her sister was around. How she found everything about her fascinating. She was sweating, fingers picking at the skin as she was scared Sam wouldn't love her the same.

Sam tried her best to make sure the girl knew her feelings were perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of. She knew they'd probably take a while to officially get together but she'd hope once they did they'd stick together no matter what. She also hoped she'd know that they would always be there for her no matter the circumstance.

Ambers phone rang. "That's Tara, if you guys don't mind I think I'm going to go make sure my girlfriend is protected."

Everyone had left the Meeks-Martin household and Sam had sent Richie back to the hotel. Before she pulled off she rolled her window down seeing Y/N about to walk home.

"Hey, are you hungry?" The younger girl gave a small smile and nod. The were sat in the booth waiting for their orders when Sam finally broke the silence.

"What happened?" The younger girl shrugged picking at a napkin.

"I really don't know. One day we were fine the next I'm hearing about how cool Amber is and I let my jealousy get the best of me. I made a dumb comment that if Amber was so awesome then she could date her. When I went to apologize I headed over to your house and found them kissing on the front porch."

Sam's eyes softened.

"And you guys still hang out as a group?"

"Of course, she may not be my girlfriend but I did make a promise to always be there for her." Y/n chuckled. "Plus Mindy wouldn't let me sit in my room and cry for more than a couple days."

Sam laughed as their food was placed before them. "And when did you became a couple?"

Y/n sighed. "It was a couple of years ago, she was getting a lot better so I took her out for a picnic on the beach. She was mad I had to cancel our plans the day before."

You smile softly at the memory. Picking at the food on your plate as she did the same.

"I don't even remember what she said I just remember kissing her and telling her that I was in love with her and have been for as long as I can remember. I told her I'd never leave her side and asked her to be my girlfriend. I told her no matter what happens between us good or bad at the end of the day we'll fix it. I thought we were doing great but as you can see six months later I guess we couldn't."

When they had finished, Sam offered to drop off Y/n but the younger girl insisted she go check on Tara, since she couldn't at the moment.

On her way to the hospital, Sam found cop cars outside of Sheriff Hicks house.

"What's going on?"

"Can't tell you."

"I used to babysit the boy who lives there."

"The sheriff and her son have been murdered."

"What?!" She turned and saw a familiar face. She ran up to the tall man.

"What are you doing here?!" He could barely get words out before she spoke again.

"Who's at the hospital protecting my sister?!"

Her phone rang.

"Sam-"

"Richie I need you to go to the hospital to check on Tara."

She jumped in the surprised when Dewey got in the passenger seat.

"DRIVE!"

She grabbed her phone to dial Y/N only to receive a voicemail. Her brows furrowed.

Over the years she'd kept in touch with her to keep tabs on Tara no matter what the time was she always answered the phone.

She tried again.

And again.

Tara sent Amber home. She went to call the nurse and received no response. Sensing something off she begins to get out of the hospital bed and into the wheelchair nearby.

She begins to wheel herself out the room as she spots a pool of blood. Following its trail she finds the security guard behind the desk bleeding out. His mouth gaping trying to form words. Tara feels tears begin to fill her eyes as she places a hand only her mouth biting back a scream. She goes closer towards his holster.

Fuck! No gun.

She hears a crash nearby and hides in the nearest room. She hears footsteps draw closer looking around she grabs a bed pan. The door to the room over opens. She steels herself as the door opens. She swings as hard as she can and nails someone.

"Ow goddamn it!"

"Richie?!"

"Sam called said you were in trouble-"

"Look out!"

He turns in time only getting his arm sliced. Richie falls to the floor screaming as Tara flings a box of nearby syringes at Ghostface. Ghostface falls back into the nearby bed as Tara tries to wheel out of the room. Richie moves to get up but Ghostface kicks him in the face knocking him out cold.

Richies phone begins to ring.

"Hello Samantha. Richie can't come to the phone right now due to his impending death."

Tara keeps trying to wheel herself down the hall her bloody hand pushing as best it can.

"Please don't kill him!"

"This is what happens to people who stick their noses in business that has nothing to do with them. Or...should I carve up little sis again instead? Tell you what, you can chose. I'll only kill one. Who do you want to hear die?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Oh come one Sam didn't daddy always say it was a lot scarier when there was no motive?"

Ghostface yanks Tara from the wheelchair making her crawl to the elevator.

"Now chose. Or I kill them both." She sobs.

"Really? You can't save your own sister? All you have to say is "Kill Richie."

"Please-" she's cut off by the sound of groaning. Richie awake tries to crawl but Ghostface flips him on his back.

"Or you can save the man you love. All you have to do is say "Kill Tara" and I'll put her out of her misery."

"Please I'm begging you.."

"Chose now. Last chance to save one."

"I can't..."

"You want to know why I'm doing this,Sam? Maybe it's because you're a selfish bitch who can't even make a decision to save the life of someone you love! Maybe it's because you're too weak for this franchise!"

"Maybe...maybe you're right....or maybe I'm stalking for time, fuckhead."

The masked villain is shot three times as Sam gets to Tara.

"I'll get Richie!"

Dewey runs to help him back turned to Ghostface who raises their knife.

"Not today." He head butts Ghostface who falls back and shoots him in the chest a few more times.

"Let's go!" Dewey grabs Richie pulling him to his feet as they all get to the elevator.

"The head..."

"What?"

"We have to shoot him in the head....if we don't, they always come back." He begins to get out as Sam yells after him.

"Who gives a fuck?!"

Amber, Chad and Liv were all taking shots "in honor" of Wes as Mindy watched on slowly sipping a beer.

She looked to her phone still wondering why she hadn't heard back from Y/N.

The trio made their way over to her. Chad speaking up first.

"If you're still waiting for Y/n to respond you won't hear from her she's probably to busy stabbing someone else right now." Mindy glared at him.

"You really are stupid if you think she's the murderer."

Amber piped in. "Come on Mindy, it's obviously her. No girlfriend, no family, nothing to lose." She listed.

"Yeah her girlfriend was her family and everything to lose."

Great value blossom decided to jump in as well.

"Wouldn't that be more reason for her to kill everyone then?"

Mindy just glared. "Look if you wanna give up on our friend that's fine but I've known Y/n my whole life and I know better then anyone else that she would never have been capable of hurting Tara."

Chad shook his head. "People change."

The girl eyed her brother up and down.

"They sure do." She turned to go watch Stab on the couch as Chad scoffed going to the love seat to make out with Liv.

Amber went to the basement to grab more beer. Mindy getting up quickly to follow right behind her without her knowing.

Amber jumped seeing the curly haired girl once she closed the refrigerator door.

"Jesus Mindy!"

"You really went to the basement alone? What if I'm the killer?"

"You're not the killer." Amber spoke confidently. "Because I am."

Mindy eyed the girl before chuckling to ease the tension. She led the way up before she stumbled on a familiar bag, a knife and Ghostface mask.

"Isnt that-"

"Y/N's bag." Amber stated.

Sam, Tara, and Richie walked in disrupting the party and sending everyone home. As the two girls got upstairs Amber started shouting.

"Y/N's Ghostface!" Tara felt herself flinch. She didn't want to believe what Amber was saying but the way the killer moved in her home as if they knew the place then the special knock they'd made so Tara would know who was at the door. Mindy spoke up.

"That could be planted!"

Amber scoffed. "Jesus Mindy wake the fuck up your favorite couple wasn't perfect and shouldn't have existed."

"Where is she?" Sam spoke.

Richie spoke from behind her. "Waiting to slash out our guts the minute we split up."

The girls looked to him incredulous as Tara got Amber to take her to her room to get her inhaler.

Sam followed as Richie went to the basement stopping short for a moment. "Wanna come with me?" He looked to Mindy hopeful.

"Nope but nice try."

She turned to watch the movie only to be stabbed a few moments later. Desperately pressing her hands to her neck to stop the bleeding.

Sam ran when she found her, trying to help as Amber and Tara came down screaming. Richie appearing at the same time as Liv.

The pink haired girls hands covered in blood.

"Where's Chad?"

"He- he-"

"Oh my God!" Amber pointed. "It's you and Y/N, you're the killers."

"What? No-"

"You're the killer!" Richie yelled next.

"Fuck you Amber I'm not the killer." She smirked.

"I know." A bullet went between Liv's eyes as everyone began to panic. "Welcome to Act 3."

Tara tackled Amber as she went to shoot her sister. Amber tied her up smiling.

"It's ok you'll love the next part and you'll get to chance to say goodbye to your ex." She opened the closet door to show you tied up as well. Blood dripping down your forehead eyes growing wider as you see Tara.

The younger Carpenter sister began crying. You tried to place some of your weight on her to offer some comfort. The both of you breathing heavy and unable to speak.

Tara hoped you knew how sorry she was. She wished she never let Amber convince her that you weren't a good girlfriend or that you were Ghostface. In a way she was just as guilty for all of this.

The door opened again to reveal Sam. She looked at the two of you untying you both as she placed a kiss to both of your foreheads.

"Go hide." She whispered. Both you and Tara helped remove the rest of the duct tape from each other. Neither of you looking at each other as you did so.

You cleared your throat.

"You should hide in the bathroom Tara. I'll go down and use the element of surprise to get Amber and maybe with a distraction it'll give Sam enough time to get Richie." You turned to leave as Tara grabbed you by the shoulders to place a soft kiss on your lips sobbing as she did so.

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?" You looked into her brown eyes. "I thought we were good I know I said some stupid things but-"

"It wasn't you" she sniffled. "I was dumb and insecure. Amber kept saying how you were distant and should be doing more. Then it seemed like you would pay more attention to Mindy and I just listened. The more I hung out with her the less I'd trust you." Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. "Everyone leaves me anyway so what was stopping you from doing it too?"

You shook your head. "You didn't even give me a real break up, you just showed up with Amber the next day."

The girl nodded. "I know."

"Even though it killed me inside I stayed."

"I know." She hiccupped.

"I still love you and I'm going to protect you no matter what." She looked up at you doe like eyes shining.

"I know, I love you too."

You nodded getting one more kiss in before you gently stroked her cheek. She pulled you back from leaving.

"When we get out of this we'll fix it right? Like we always do?"

You felt your lips tug up in a small smile and nodded. "Yeah like we always do."

You crept down the stairs as quiet as you could when you spotted Mindy bleeding by the TV. You took off your shirt pressing it against her wound. Bleary eyes looked at you.

"Y/n?" She was getting weaker. You nodded placing a finger over your lips.

You ducked when you saw Amber go to the door screaming before firing a few rounds at whoever was out there. She came back in running straight to the basement to put the Ghostface costume back on.

Sidney and Gale walked in guns pointed at you. You lifted your hands up in surrender.

"Everybody Ghostface or not better come out or they're getting shot."

It was all a blur but you woke up on the floor next to Sidney and a bleeding Sam and Gale.

Amber taunting Tara. "Come out come out wherever you are." She grabbed you by the hair making you yell.

"You don't want your first love to die do you?"

"Tara! Don't come out." Amber stabbed you in the abdomen.

"You sure you don't want her to save you?" You glared at Amber.

"Fuck you." You gritted out.

She walked around the corner getting hit by crutches. You jumped on her punching her repeatedly. The last punch you pulled her by her shirt collar.

"And that's for stealing my fucking girlfriend you fucking cunt."

A gun cocked and Richie stood before you.

"You really wanted to play hero huh?" A body slammed into him knocking him over. Sam straddling him and stabbing him repeatedly.

You looked down to see Amber had made it to the kitchen choking Gale. Sidney helped Gale get up before they both set the teenager on fire. You felt yourself sigh as a bloodied Sam hugged you in relief.

Sirens growing in volume as they grew closer.

The two women came to join when a yell was heard.

A half burnt Amber running towards you with a knife raised. She was stopped short by a bullet through her temple. You all looked to see Tara teary eyed as she lowered her gun slowly.

She limped over to her body ripping the necklace from her.

"You were a shitty girlfriend."

#scream #scream v #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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starkskeep · 1 year

Text

But if you hold me without hurting me (r. stark)

But if you hold me without hurting me r. stark imagine

Pt. 5 of Oh, all I used to do was pray, Right when I felt the moment stop, And I might be ok, but I'm not fine at all, And the life I gave away

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - You have a long-awaited conversation with Robb. It changes things between the two of you.

Word Count - 1,133 words

Warnings - Angst, Possibly unbearable cheesiness

A/N - I broke the Taylor Swift title streak. In my defense, I have been a LDR stan since middle school and Cinnamon Girl makes me sob every time I listen to it.

Songs I listened to while writing: Like Real People Do (Hozier), Cinnamon Girl, Carmen (Lana Del Rey), Me and My Husband (Mitski)

Robb feels his heart start to beat erratically as he watches you and Jon. It is obvious that you care deeply about Jon as he does you. Robb knows that he has walked in on something private, feeling jealous but also wishing that he could be the one to comfort you as such. Your moment with Jon is interrupted when Robb clears his throat in order to make you aware of his entrance into your chambers. The sound startles you and causes you to turn in Robb’s direction. Jon also turns to look at Robb, his expression wary that Robb would misinterpret the scene.

Robb begins to speak slowly but his voice cracks ever so slightly, his heart contracting in his chest due to an onslaught of emotions. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You quickly regain your composure. “No, my lord husband, you are not. I lost a letter earlier today. Jon has calmed me down and agreed to help look for it.” You dismiss Jon from your chambers, assuring him that you will be okay.

Jon locks eyes with Robb as he leaves. Tensions eased between him and Robb once he saw Robb trying to fix everything. However, Jon still continues to be an advocate for you. His brother looks back at him, eyes filled with questions he knows Jon cannot answer. Robb just needs to know that you are going to be okay, regardless of what happened.

Your husband takes a step closer to you. He looks into your eyes, searching for the pain that he knows must be there. You are a strong woman but no one should be subjected to the kind of abuse that the letter contained. As he moves closer, you notice the letter crumpled in Robb’s fist. “Ah. It seems as I I do not need to search for the letter.” You say with a sad smile, “I take it that you have seen what my father thinks of me?”

Looking down at the letter once again, Robb scowls. The fury that had been burning inside of him returns to the surface. His head shakes in disgust and he quickly closes his fist tighter around the letter, as if the action would make the item disappear from existence. Robb nods once in acknowledgment of her question. “I did. It is nothing less than disgraceful.” He draws his eyes up to meet yours. Robb’s voice shakes with thinly veiled anger. “Your father is a cruel, cruel man. To say such things to you, his own daughter…well, it is unforgivable.” He says the last word through gritted teeth.

You motion for Robb to sit next to you. In your almost year of marriage, this is the first time that you have actually asked him to be near you. It seems as if he has realized this fact as well if his hesitancy is anything to go off of. Robb’s nervous movements are in stark contrast to your controlled stillness. A couple moments pass between you two before you begin to talk. Long-awaited and much-needed words begin this conversation. “It’s cruel but what he says is true. I have failed in my duty as a wife. I should have given you an heir by now.”

Completely stunned is how the maesters would describe Robb if they were here to record this meeting. You are still calling him your husband, even after everything he has done, but you are voicing something that Robb would never want to believe. Yes, it is a wife’s and therefore your duty to give him an heir, but he would never, never force you to conceive if you were not yet ready. He turns to face the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames as he realizes how truly damaged you have been from a childhood in the Frey household and the months as his wife. Both of you have tried to do everything that has been expected of you, yet it is you who has suffered the most and continues to endure. Robb is angry at the world. Angry at the cruel words of your father. Angry at himself for the way he has treated you. Sighing deeply, he speaks after gathering his emotions. “Do not let them make you believe that this is your fault. It takes two to make a child. I am just as much to blame for the situation we find ourselves in…”

Robb’s words trail off when he feels you place your head on his shoulder. It seems to be a night of firsts. Much like you never asked him to be near you, you have never initiated any sort of physical comfort. You both enjoy the feeling until you bring Robb back to reality with your voice breaking the silence. “I don’t blame you for anything. I want you to know that. You were forced to marry me, forced to make me your queen, while you still loved Talisa. Why would you want to leave her side for a Frey, especially when Talisa was carrying your child? I ruined your life.”

Feeling a tear soak into the shoulder of his tunic, Robb tilts your head up so he can see you clearly. “You didn’t ruin my life. I made a deal with your father. I knew what I was agreeing to when I crossed the bridge.” He reaches his thumb to brush the tears off your face. “This is not your burden to bear. It is something we must share. Something we must work through so that we can grow together. Something I should have worked harder on at the beginning of our marriage.” Your husband sighs deeply and shakes his head, trying to accept how much he has just spoken. Robb comes to the startling realization that he has never voiced this sentiment to you before, much less even admitted it to himself.

“Thank you. I need to hear those words said to me.” You say and place a gentle kiss on Robb’s cheek. A blush spreads across your face as you do so.

He freezes when he feels your lips brush against his skin. A matching pink tint blotches his cheeks like yours did. This is the first time you have shown affection for him and it feels…good. Robb smiles and leans over to place a kiss on your forehead, wanting to continue this newfound physical affection that you have started. “I’m here for you. I know I haven’t been in the past, but from this moment forward, I will always be here for you my queen.” The increased presence of his Northern accent betrays the emotions that are overwhelming him. Staring into your eyes, his gaze reveals nothing but honesty and sincerity in his gaze. Robb meant every word he said to you tonight.

A/N - Once again, thank you so much for reading. My ask box is always open for requests, comments, or if just want to gush about our lovely Stark boys.

#robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark

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class1akids · 3 months

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could you explain to me bakugou and todorokis friendship bc I don't really understand it.

I imagine bakugou would remind shoto of endeavor which would stear him away. Especially bc at the start it wasn't just talk specifically with deku. And I feel like todoroki of all people would recognize bakugou as a bully . Not to mention what bakugou said to todoroki before the sports festival (and while yes I know deku said the same thing, it pissed todoroki off and todoroki only responded positively when deku said something affirming).

And from bakugous side, todoroki made him insecure bc from bakugous perspective he was effortlessly better than him in every way and we saw with bakugous apology to deku that this feeling never went away. Bakugi was always challenging deku and todoroki only while he was "normal" to the rest of the class b deku and todoroki were the only ones that made him feel threatened. And then when bakugou started changing (the same time endevour did) he realised just how simlliar he is to endeavor and that's who he will become if he doesn't change his mindset. And sharing similaraties to todorokis abuser I can imagine would deter him from that friendship even more as it would enhance his quilt.

Now I will admit I don't understand bakugous character as well as other which is why I maybe struggling to understand this friendship.

You are actually explaining quite well their starting points. Out of everyone in the class, they are definitely not friends at first (well, neither of them have friends at the start and neither of them think they want friends - fools). As they both grow and change, their perspective changes too and it's a bit of a slow burn, but I'd say they are already more or less friends by the end of the remedial classes / start of the Endeavor internship (though Bakugou still furiously denies it), and they are definitely good friends by post-PLF War, when Izuku leaves UA.

As you say, initially Todoroki is someone who shakes Bakugou's confidence and increases his insecurities further by focusing on Izuku rather than him as "rival". While Shouto barely acknowledges Bakugou's existence. Even after Shouto beat Deku, he keeps thinking about him, because he challenged him at the core of his ideals, while Bakugou is unable to reach that part of Shouto yet.

So the SF final happens the way it does - a failure for both of them in a way. Bakugou walks away thinking that Todoroki looks down on him and is angry about it, while Shouto senses that he hurt Bakugou, but he doesn't really know what to do about it.

Things slowly start to change in the Forest arc, with Shouto's clumsy attempts to interact with Bakugou, then them being paired in the fight against Moonfish which gives them more insight into each other. And Shouto being a co-instigator of the Bakugou rescue, their move in the dorm, and quickly they are at the licensing exam which they both fail.

Then the remedial classes start - and while we only saw a single class, this is something they did every week for months, just the two of them, going to that class, having to go through the humiliation together. It's a forced proximity where they first annoy each other, but they also give each other a safe way to work on themselves and on the difficult relationships they need to fix for their own growth.

Bakugou has quite a few similarities with Endeavor, but there are also big differences: there is no power imbalance between them and Bakugou never abused Shouto. In fact, Bakugou's attitude is completely wasted on Shouto - he's never intimated of him. But observing Bakugou, seeing his strong points - like his great battle tactics, perseverance, quirk mastery, ambition - gives Shouto a chance to observe these characteristics his father also has, and disentangle them from it belonging to Endeavor, to seeing their value and seeing them as tools he could use for himself without becoming his father.

On the other side, Bakugou gets to interact with Todoroki, who has a lot of similarities to Izuku. Underneath his blunt demeanour, Shouto is also ridiculously kind to the people who hurt him and most importantly, he's an abuse victim too. He can be both at the same time - insanely strong, someone Bakugou sees as equal, and also someone who is a victim of abuse. And because Bakugou didn't hurt Shouto, interacting with him, trying out his little steps in empathy is not layered with guilt like his complicated interactions with Deku.

With distance, it's easier to navigate Shouto's mess, but watching the Todoroki family also provides a perspective on his own - a warning in the shape of Endeavor of what he doesn't want to be.

I think from Shouto's side, it's clear that he's been considering Bakugou as his friend for a long time by the end of the remedial arc. Bakugou is a tsundere (so his characterization includes being uncomfortable with squishy feelings like friendships, and is always hiding his motives and intentions). But it doesn't fool Shouto much, because he's someone who primarily looks at actions not words.

But in any case, after the war, Bakugou drops a lot of his attitude and becomes more authentic about his feelings, including more openly friends with Shouto.

I think choosing to support him on their last night before the final war, making him laugh on what may easily be the last night of their lives is a meaningful proof of the long way they have come together .

It's a friendship that the story spent a lot of time with (compared to a lot of the other, easier bonds where characters sort of become friends somewhere in the background and then are just hanging out), working out their relationship from the rocky start, being there as partners and witnesses through some of the biggest lows of each other's lives, getting their licenses together, experiencing milestones and emotional moments together, seeing each other grow and change and stumble through fixing the relationships they struggle with.

I think for us, in the tdbk/bktd part of the fandom, this difficult journey, the ways they fit and the ways they are different is all part of the draw of this dynamic. Also, they are also just truly funny together. There is a hilarious energy of their odd duo and I guess it's something either you are into or not.

Some people prefer sweet / soft friendships, while Todoroki and Bakugou are definitely a cat and dog kind of friendship (even by HK's own illustrations) with its own particular vibe and energy.

#c1a asks #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #todobaku #bakutodo #todobaku brotp

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radiosummons · 1 year

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Maybe I'm the dumb one or whatever, but ... I like Anakin because he's the worst.

I know some of y'all really love him for reasons and for some of you those reasons mostly just involve doing a bunch of insane mental gymnastics to somehow "justify" his heinous af choices (i.e. trying to blame the Jedi for literally every dumb little thing he did, but whatever).

But, guys ... come the fuck on. The reason Anakin's such a great character (please note I said *character,* not a *person*) is because he's a selfish piece of shit that ruined the lives of everyone he loved and then made the entire galaxy suffer for his mistakes.

My guy, that is tragedy and hubris at its fucking finest. That is some A-grade quality shit right there.

I'm really starting to doubt if some of y'all have ever read/experienced a piece of media where the main character isn't a paragon of all things good and moral. You don't have to flip over backwards to justify liking a villain.

Personally, I never want Anakin to change. I want him to keep making shit choices, I want him to keep hurting people and being a selfish butthurt dictator prick. I like that he's a piece of shit that abused the trust that his loved ones put in him because it fucking hurts to see him become the monster he is.

It hurts to see a character you care so much about actively making the choice to turn themselves into their absolute worst. It's downright heartbreaking to see them hurt their loved ones and it's all the more tragic when their love transforms into selfish obsession and possession.

Yes, Palpatine did manipulate Anakin. BUT-Anakin still made the choice to kill Mace, to burn down the Jedi Temple, to rob the 501st of their autonomy (something a former slave should never have been okay with btw), forced his men to participate in killing fucking children, killed his own wife and endangered the lives of his own unborn children, attacked and attempted to kill his brother/father figure, and then continued to subjugate and destroy the lives of millions, if not outright billions for nearly two whole decades.

(He also tortured his son and daughter, their friends, their allies, etc. And like ... maimed his own son 'cause like why the fuck not? Fuck, I haven't even gone into detail about the absolute horror he put Obi-wan and Ahsoka through. Fuck me).

Anakin is the worst. And he's an amazing character. Both of these facts can exist at the same time.

Tldr: y'all are really out here acting like Anakin wasn't a big boy who didn't make big boy choices. Let him be a prick.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #clone wars #prequel trilogy #anakin is the worst #pro jedi #*crying* y'all are so stupid #star wars hot take i guess #let him be evil #hey kiddies #y'all better be civil #or you're gonna get banished to the shadow realm #i will not hesitate bitch #star wars meta

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aboutdifferentthings · 10 months

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Jess never stood a chance with Lorelai.

I have read a lot about Lorelai trying to be nice to Jess and trying to help and what a douche bag he was because of the way he talked to her in 2x05. I will not say that he was not harsh and rude but, honestly, I get it. In fact, I do not only get it, I find him quite restrained during the episode until it is just too much. His wording was far from best but he was completely right about he said.

What happens in 2x05 is what sets the path of their relationship because as Lorelai herself said once.

And Jess is not what she wants him to be. She wants Jess to be like she was at his age but he is not and that is what she never gets.

She has a bad disposition towards him even before she meets him. She tells Luke if he needs her she will be there but it just sounds forced because she only says it after not getting him to say she is right.

But what I think is the key are these two sentences.

These sentences show how Lorelai has no faith in Luke doing this but guess who is a great communicator? Guess who is going to be able to straighten him out with her charm? Yes. Exactly.

When Lorelai and Jess meet Jess is being polite enough.

He says ‘hi' he waits (more or less patiently) while she says her daughter can show him where the wilding takes place ( half joking, assuming he is wild). He goes after ‘the class is dismissed’ line. She gets upset. She was expecting him to laugh around her jokes because she was being cool and nice? He is angry, he is hurting, he has all the right not to be happy but she is not taking that into account because she is in the ‘I know what to do’ mode.

When Jess meets Mia, he acts more or less the same than with Lorelai . It is not personal, it is how he is feeling.

However the difference between Mia’s and Lorelai’s reactions is huge. I am Happy Lorelai found Mia, I wished Jess had found someone like Mia too.

Luke and Jess make it to the dinner (the worst of the nightmares for a socially awkward teenager) but he stills holds it. Lorelai’s face when she does not get him to be supper happy because he got invited to her house with a bunch of strangers after being kicked out from his home says it all.

She is so ready to fix this boy and his situation because she knows.

Jess still behaves when he meets Sookie and Jackson and he gets to interact with Rory and ask her to bail with him ( he needed hardly one minute to ask her to walk around with him or sit on a bench and look at their feet, just saying).

He stays, and he would have made it to the table but he needed some air, and he took the beer and she finds him. If she would have just said. - Sorry Jess no beer allowed today, we are waiting for you at the table, I am sure he would have come in ( not in the best mood, probably but he would have). Instead she goes with the fake tone again, half joke, over acting ‘refreshing’ and from there to the you are not hungry. And Jess talks.

He says he is not hungry but she does not listen and she ‘guesses’ ‘you do not want to be here’ and he talks ‘I doesn’t matter’ but she is still not listening, she goes on 'in Star Hollow'…. Of course he doesn’t want to be in Stars Hollow, he wants to be home, and she does not get it because she ran away from home and was happy to find Stars Hollow and Mia and she assumes it is the same for him. She run from home but Jess wished he had one. And here comes it, The little advice….

No Lorelai, you have not been there. This kid was abandoned by his father when he was a baby, this kid has been kicked out of his home by his neglecting addictive, abusive mother because he was being a nuisance she didn’t need. You have been in a bad place but it was a different place, you have not been in his place. He is not playing the ‘my parents don’t get me thing’ he is not maybe screwed, his feelings are not maybe valid instead his parents do not love him, he has been living in a traumatic situation you can not imagine all his life, his feelings are totally valid. Are you really telling him he is lucky? Yes, she is.

Here is the thing, she tried to be Mia but the problem is that she is not being genuine. She is doing it because she wants to be the cool understanding adult who totally gets this rebel boy and to show Luke how well she can handle the situation and how clueless he is, but it backfires because she is the one being clueless: Jess is a high sensitive boy who is going through a lot and she has zero empathy with him. She patronizes him and what happens is that he can see through her, he can feel no connection, he could never trust her because she thinks she already knows everything so she does not listen, she has zero interest is what is really going on with him.

You can see the change of expression in Jess’ face the second Lorelai says Luke is very special. He detects something but she is so absorbed in her own discourse she can not read Jess and she still has the audacity to say ‘you are so lucky’. That is the last straw. He snaps at her with the 'you are naive or you are getting some’ but really, what did she expect?

She expected him to say: ‘yeah, thank you, you are right I will give it a chance I am sorry I took the bier’. And when this does not happen she wants to smash a pie in his face and decides he is screwed forever.

She is completely overreacting because she can not believe he has not surrender to her. And she decides to hate him from here to the end of times. She will never accept he might have a good side. She will hold onto this conversation and build her own image of Jess. No matter if he, Luke or Rory try to change her mind, she will always think the worst of him.

Let me show you what Mia tells Emily about the day she met Lorelai.

And what Emily answered.

Emily would have wanted Lorelai to find someone who did not listen to her and sent her home. She never listened to Lorelai. Lorelai never listened to Jess (and very little to Rory). Lorelai wanted to be Mia but she turned out to be Emily.

He never stood a chance with her.

#jess mariano #It took me a while to put my thoughts together #I just could not let it go #it just frustrates me #it is sad

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strangernstranger · 1 year

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I’m On Fire

Eddie x Fem Reader (request)

Summary: It was a harmless crush what you and Eddie shared yet so damning you were forced to keep him at a distance. It would be hell for you if your father found out but you just couldn’t stay away…

(Contains descriptions of abuse, alcoholism and violent behavior.)

Part 2

——— Back pressed to the door, you counted the footsteps just outside. Three from your bedroom, ten towards the living room, twenty to the kitchen. The footfalls grew quieter with each number. Like counting claps of thunder after a lightening strike, you were measuring the distance of a passing storm. It seemed you were finally in the clear. The breath hitched in your throat released in a quiver as the tension in your posture softened.

You blinked past the tears as you approached your vanity. You assessed the damage under the warm lamplight. Red indentations from your father’s grasp colored the soft skin of your upper arm. You could still feel the pressure of his fingertips pressing into the muscle as he held you in place. Not that it was necessary. You knew better than to walk away when he talked to you. Still, he grabbed you harshly during your berating to remind you of your place. To remind you that you were ungrateful and an overall disappointment as a daughter. You lifted your arm to further examine the sensitive skin. It was going to bruise. The remaining blemishes from the last altercation with your father still hadn’t healed. Fading from violet and gray to a sickly shade of yellow, they were gradually getting better but more would take their place. At least your father had the decency to leave marks in places easy to conceal. Not that it was for your benefit. Instead it was meant to save his own ass. Ever since a parent teacher conference was called to discuss a bruise on your cheek you refused to explain, the injuries became more elusive though just as frequent.

You’d gotten good at hiding the hell that was your home life. Adept at burying the hurt so that you could carry out daily tasks like going to school without question. The next morning, you slid your hair over the collar of your flannel over shirt and primped in the mirror one last time before heading for the door.

“Hey.” A unwelcomed voice grated. Your hand froze on the door knob. You were seconds away from a clean escape.

“Yea, Dad?” He was leaning against the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in hand, watching you past the door frame as if he were waiting for you. His hair was disheveled. Eyes still bloodshot from a previous night of drinking. It was rare that he was sober anymore. You weren’t a psychiatrist but you would assume it had something to do with the fact he hated himself just as much as the lack-luster life he had earned for the two of you.

“I’m working late tonight. Now, I want you home right after school.” He pointed a finger as he spoke. Not even 8AM and he was already coming across as confrontational. “You come straight home and clean some of this shit up. Hear me?” You would’ve rolled your eyes if you didn’t think he’d smack the hell out of you for it. Since your mother left, your father had appointed you to take over her thankless chore list, never lifting a finger of his own.

“I will, promise.” Other families typically say ‘I love you’ before leaving, but you didn’t see the point anymore. It was an empty phrase that hadn’t held a meaning since you were a child.

———

The misty spring air drove away the remaining tiredness resting behind your eyes. It was a cool caress against your cheeks as you pedaled your bike down the still waking streets of Hawkins to the high school. You liked school okay enough. Your grades were consistently passing and for seven hours a day, you were out of your father’s reach. Above all else, there was Eddie. He was a loud mouthed senior with an intimidating aura and reputation to match. A lot of your classmates avoided him. You did too. That is until you were partnered together for an assignment in Mrs. Click’s class. Turns out the second degree senior was actually pretty smart. Just lazy, dubbing himself as more of an ‘idea-man.’ He was unmotivated. You could understand that. Your motivation was more of a looming threat scented with bourbon and haggard by poor life choices and coping mechanisms.

Eddie didn’t know about your dad. At first he thought your concern about the assignment was silly. Your grades were good enough. No sense in being an overachiever he thought. It wasn’t until he caught you after class one day after everyone else had left. You were crying. Your arms circled your face as you sobbed into the textbook lying on your desk. He didn’t know you were that stressed about it. He didn’t know that a failing grade would likely result in injury in your case. It may have been an invasion of privacy but he pulled up a chair beside you. You startled at the sound of the metal legs scooting across the concrete floor.

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What do you want, Eddie?” You wiped the tears away with the back of your sweater sleeve. Your previous interactions were short and often quarrelsome, always pertaining to the assignment.

“First off, I want you to take a breath.” You did so in vain. Not because he told you to but because you hated anyone to see you cry. “May I?” Eddie’s ring clad hand slid the textbook off your desk and into his lap. He shuffled through the notes stuffed between the pages that you had so meticulous taken. Ink bled on portions of the paper soggy from tears. He’d never seen someone so hung up over a grade before. He felt guilty that he didn’t share even half of your concern. “Take the night off. I can finish this.” Your eyes snapped to him, bloodshot and skeptical.

“You are gonna finish it?” Your tone was unintentionally mocking. He had barely put in an effort since your were unfairly partnered at random.

“Yea?” Eddie answered cooly. “I’ll throw the presentation together so you can take a break. I can just reference your notes. Seems like you’ve covered every possible base.” Nonchalantly, he flipped the lined, loose-leaf paper over, further noting the nuances of your handwriting. Bubbly cursive with little hearts that accented the i’s. Cute. The idea of Eddie taking over the assignment was worrisome to say the least, but you could use a break. Between the stress of school and your father’s constant demands, you were overwhelmed.

“But what about-”

“Y/N…I’ve got this, okay? I’m sorry I haven’t been doing my part. Let me make it up to you. If you don’t think I’m capable of finishing it on my own, I could just come to your place. We’ll work on it togeth-”

“No!” You were quick to shutdown the idea. No one was allowed to come to your house. Your own personal rule. Logically thinking, your father wouldn’t hit you in front of another person, but he had surprised you before. Inebriation always ran the risk of trumping logic. Eddie winced at how quick you were to decline his self imposed invention. It was strictly out of kindness but maybe a bit too forward? “It’s a school night…I’m not allowed to have friends over on school nights.” The excuse was weaved out of thin air. You had years of practice in improvising white lies to hide your families broken dynamics.

“Okay…maybe I can get your number then? Y’know to talk about the assignment?” Eddie closed the book in his lap, resting his forearms on the hard cover. A trailing tattoo of bats peak-a-booed under his pushed up sleeves. You weighed the pros and cons for a moment. Your father would kill you if he answered the phone to hear a man’s voice asking for you. We’re you willing to risk it?

“…Alright. But no calling after 6:30 and if my dad answers, hang up immediately.” You laid out your conditions and watched Eddie smile in confusion.

“Uhh, yea… I guess I can do that.” The smile stretch to brilliancy. He stood triumphantly, nudging your shoulder just before leaving. “Dry it up, L/N.” You followed his stride out the door with your eyes, savoring the lingering scent of his cologne. No way you were crushing on the outcasted king of Hawkins High.

———

You totally were. With Eddie’s help, the assignment was given on time. Earning you both a respectable B+ Even after your two week sentence of partnership ended, he still called you (within the boundaries you set.) Still talked to you in the halls and during lunch. You suffered through every class and mind numbing lecture with one thing on your mind. Eddie. Baring witness to his hyperactive, exaggerated mannerisms were the best part of your day. Just hearing his distinctive voice greet you with a “hey sweetheart”over the crackle of the landline. It was enough to give you butterflies. Still, as much as it hurt you to do so, you kept him at arms length. You didn’t want him caught in your mess and you certainly didn’t want to provide anymore fuel for your father’s misplaced outrage. That meant turning Eddie down anytime he’d ask for a date. Rushing off the phone the second your father’s truck roared into the driveway, cutting Eddie off in the midst of flirtatious conversations. It didn’t go unnoticed. He thought you to be playing hard to get. You gave every indication you were into him. You didn’t shy away when he’d brush your hair behind your ear. When he’d grab your hand under the cafeteria table, you’d lace your fingers with his. Eddie always made little jokes over the phone about how he was gonna climb through your window just to see you. You’d never take the bait, but you’d always bite your lip as your twirled the cord between your fingers. Eddie swears he could hear it in your laugh. It was a spark that threatened to burn him from the inside out. He’d lay in bed at night thinking of you, hoping you were doing the same.

But your life outside of school was a mystery. You never talked about what happened after you biked away from the parking lot. You never saw friends on the weekend. It was puzzling. You were such a sweet girl, but Eddie felt like he still didn’t truly know you. Only parts of you. You were shrouded in secrecy. He used to ask questions. Your answers were short and always followed by a swift change in subject. The only information he could gather was that your mom was no longer in the picture and your father kept high expectations of you. Nothing out of the norm. But you were peculiar in the way you’d shift in place and hide your eyes anytime Eddie attempted to talk about him.

———

The cool, overcast day gave way to torrential rain, peppering the cracked pavement and sidewalks as the last bell of the day rang out. Teens scramble across the parking lot, text books and bags covering their heads in lieu of umbrellas. You watched as they boarded buses and settled into nice cars, gifted by their parents. You on the other hand were preparing for the freezing bike ride back home. Already feeling defeated, you kicked up the bike’s stand just as the stench of exhaust and rumble of thrash metal crept across the parking lot.

“Please don’t tell me you’re riding home in this?” Cigarette smoke wafted from the open window of Eddie’s van. He held in a laugh. You were pitifully hilarious. The hood of your beloved sweatshirt that lived in your locker was pulled tightly to your head and tied below your chin. You were rendered a moon faced blob of wet and darkened fabric.

“Beats walking.” You mounted your bike while shrugging the weight of your backpack up your shoulders.

“Nonono, come on. I’ll give you a ride.” What kind of man would he be if he just let you go off on your own in the middle of a downpour? “The heat works now.” Eddie patted the dash in praise. He’d been working on that for weeks. “I know you’re cold.” You were. Freezing in fact. “Just let me take you home.” He pleaded. He really didn’t want to resort to begging but was prepared to. You chewed your bottom lip in consideration. What was it about him that made you so careless with your circumstance? Was it his eyes? The way his frizzy curls framed his perfect jawline? Maybe it was his gentlemanly gestures juxtaposed to his “fuck you” attitude. Christ. It was all of it. Your dad did say he was working late…What could it hurt?

“What about my bike?” You shouted over the loud spatter of raindrops.

“Allow me.” The driver’s side door of the van opened with a groan. His black boots tread through the puddle you were standing in so that he could take your bike. With minimal effort he tossed it into the back of his van. Wiping his palms on the front of his jeans, he turned to you proudly. “Hop in, sweetheart.”

———

Eddie shook his curls like a wet dog, cursing the cold rain between little shivers.

“And you wanted to bike home in this.” He tsked, side eyeing you playfully.

“I didn’t want to! I had to!” You laughed as you ringed water from your hair.

“No, see. That’s a lie. And you know it’s a lie. I offer to drive you home all the time.” That was true. You’d never take him up on the offer though. It was too risky.

“Wouldn’t it be a pain in the ass to drive out of your way all the time just to take me home?” Your rubber toed shoes squeaked together in the floorboard as you adjusted yourself closer to the heat vents to thaw your fridges fingers.

“You act like we live hours apart. Curly isn’t far from the trailer park.” He reminded you. You knew that but you were running out of excuses.

“I just…don’t think my dad would like it.” There it was again. The brief mention of him had you grabbing at your arms, making yourself as small as possible on instinct. Eddie watched you slouch in the passenger seat. Your smiling eyes now trained to the rain droplets racing down your window. It was happening again.

“….I don’t think I like your dad.” Eddie casually determined. That’s makes to of us you thought but didn’t dare to say.

“You’ve never even met him.” You hoped the conversation would be short but something told you it was only the start.

“I don’t have to. He sounds like a dick. Like, he just wants to keep you in your room, away from everybody else. That’s not fair to you.” The atmosphere grew tense as the van splashed through puddles down the two lane. You got quiet. Eddie had seen this before. It’s like you’d shutdown anytime he tried to talk about him. A clear sign he should stop but he knew there was something you weren’t telling him. He wanted to press on but he finally had you all to himself outside the crowded halls of your school. He wasn’t about to let your time together go to waste. “It’s damn sure not fair to me.” He pouted in an attempt to get you talking again.

“And why is that?” You turned to him with the corner of your mouth ticked up into a smirk.

“Because I can’t take you out! We can’t go for milkshakes or any of that cutesy shit!” Eddie huffed, earning the smallest giggle from you. “No steamy make out session at skull rock either.” He teased, wagging his brows as he reach across the center console to squeeze your knee. He was courteous but never subtle. Playfully, you slapped at his arm while a blush warmed your still frozen cheeks. You wanted those things. You wanted the whirlwind romance you’d read about in books. You wanted Eddie. But instead you were lead actress in your own personal Lifetime drama or after school special about the dangers of alcoholism. We don’t always get what we want. You flipped his palm over and locked your fingers in his. It can’t hurt to pretend though.

You were so entranced by the way Eddie’s cigarette danced between his plush lips that you didn’t even realize you were almost home. He was rambling on about the bluesy riff in Sabbath’s ‘Fairies Wear Boots’ which played over the tape deck. With the crash of a cymbal your heart dropped to your stomach. In the driveway sat a rust eaten and weathered Chevy pickup.

“Fuck FUCK!” You immediately began scrambling to unfasten your seatbelt and grab your bag.

“WHAT?” Eddie shouted in confusion.

“My dad is home. He said he was working late tonight!” You were visibly panicked. Eddie rushed to mute the music but it was too late. The rumbling bass line had already sold you out on your arrival. Eddie peered out the windshield past the wiper blades to see a gruff man swing past the screen door of the modest home. He watched as he slumped over the dinghy, white and algae stained porch railings. A bottle hung loosely between his fingers. Eddie watched you through the rear view. You were struggling to pull your bike out of the back.

“Let me help-”

“NO. Stay in the van.” You snapped. Shaky hands gripped the metal frame, finally pulling it free. Eddie’s eyes flicked back to your father who was suddenly staring daggers at him. An uneasy feeling settled in his chest watching you push your bike up the driveway, not bothering to spare him a goodbye. Against his better judgment, he threw the van in reverse and left. He took one last look at you through his side mirror. Your head dipped low as you followed the man into the house.

———

You prepped dinner on the stove. The skillet’s simmer was the only thing staving off the earth shattering silence. The tension that could be cut with a knife. Your father was sat at the table bouncing his leg as he watched you. You could feel his eyes even with your back turned. Was he intentionally drawing this out? Reveling in your stiff shoulders and dry gulps as you plated his food? This wasn’t the kind of thing he was going to let slide. You knew that and found no sense in delaying the inevitable. If he wasn’t going to speak up, you would.

“I thought you were working late.” You sat a plate in front of your father before taking your place at the table. You hoped the gesture of a hot meal would lessen your punishment. “What happened?” It was likely another altercation with a coworker. He had verbally been reprimanded about that kind of thing in the past. While his violent tendencies lived beyond the closed doors of your home, he carried the same anger with him everywhere he went. Quietly seething at the fact he had lost control of his life. Now a divorcee with a dead end job, living paycheck to paycheck. He turned his focus to you. You, he could control.

“Who was he?” Your question went completely ignored. He stabbed at his pork chop, watching your face intensely. Searching for any indication of a lie.

“Just a friend. It was raining so he offered me a ride.” You kept your eyes on your food. Anxiety starved your appetite so instead you pushed your peas around the dish.

“And what did you offer him?” Your father smiled at you in a mocking manner.

“I don’t…I don’t get what you mean?”

“Don’t act stupid, Y/N. Men have all got one thing on their minds. I know that boy didn’t waste his gas bringing you home…for nothing in return.” He wanted to get under your skin. He wanted you to bite back. He wanted an excuse to pin his shitty day on you.

“Do you seriously think I’d sacrifice my self respect for a ride home?” You were visibly angered by the notion. You weren’t sure what you found more offensive. The fact he thought you’d trade sex for a simple favor or that Eddie would expect that of you? He took a harmless situation and twisted it into something perverse.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone!” He stabbed the air in your direction with his fork. “I’d like to think I raised you better than that but I really shouldn’t be surprised. Figures you’d turn out to be a whore like your mother.” You could feel your hands shake under the table. He knew that would get you.

“Don’t put that shit on me!” You snapped. “If you would’ve treated mom like a person instead of your servant she’d still be here!” You missed your mom. You wished she would’ve taken you with her. Instead she found someone to take your father’s place and skipped town. You didn’t blame her, but it still hurt. It was probably just easier for her to make an escape and start over without a teenaged daughter weighing her down. “Im not hungry.” You pushed your plate back on the table and made the attempt to head back to you room. The fact he was sitting down made you think, maybe you could make it to the door before he caught up with you. You moved quickly but were stunned in place by the shatter of a glass on the floor.

“Don’t fuckin’ WALK AWAY FROM ME.” Your father barked. In the heat of fight or flight situations, you froze. He followed you into the hallway, face burning hot with misdirected rage. You screwed your eyes shut the second his hand tangled into your hair. “I CAUGHT YOU WHISPERING ON THE PHONE WITH THAT BOY THE OTHER DAY!” His shouting shook you to the core. Your heart raced remembering how your father made it home fifteen minutes early last week and managed to make it into the house without you noticing. Your mind fought to recall your conversation with Eddie and hoped it wasn’t damning.

“I’m sorry, Dad!”

“Now, I want you to tell me…” He wiped the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. “WHO IS HE?” He tugged your hair at the roots causing you to wince in pain.

“HE’S JUST A FRIEND! Please let me go, PLEASE!” You hated how weak you sounded.

“I WANT HIS FUCKIN’ NAME!” With one sharp motion, the side of your face slammed into the wood paneling of the wall. You dropped to the floor instantaneously. Any other time you’d just accept your fate. Take the beating and allow the moment to pass but something in you screamed run. Unable to make it to your feet, you staggered a crawl towards the living room. Your father followed your every movement, squatting down to grab your hair once more.

“ANSWER ME GODDAMN IT!” Your trembling hands stretched to reach the cord of a nearby table lamp. The last digit of your middle finger managed to moved the wire enough that the light fell to the carpeted floor. Before you even had a chance to think of the repercussions, you grabbed the lamp and swung it at your father making direct contact. He stumbled backwards holding his nose. Trickles of blood began lining the spaces between his fingers. Now was your chance. You looked to the front door. A beacon of hope merely feet away. You pushed past the ache in your head and the fear in your stomach, finally making it to your feet.

“YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH!” Your father screamed through a cupped hand, attempting to grab you before you were out of reach. His fingers grazed the cloth of your T-shirt before you slipped away from his grasp. He tried to chase after you, but his vision was obstructed by the blow to his face. You ran out the door and off the porch, frantically mounting your bike. Your father followed, stopping at the porch steps. The rain beat hard as he screamed.

“GET BACK IN THE GODDAMN HOUSE.” But you were already gone, petaling rapidly down your street. Not daring to look back. The reflections of streetlights on the wet asphalt illuminated the road to freedom. You weren’t sure of where you were going but then you remembered. Curly isn’t far from the trailer park.

———

Smoke circled overhead in Eddie’s room. An ash tray rested on his naked chest as he flipped through the pages of some macabre comic. A record spun on the turntable. The needle bringing the voice of Robert Plant to life. His zen was interrupted by a pounding at the trailer door. What he fuck? He pulled himself off the mattress and lifted the arm of the record player. He observed the silence beyond the rain, hearing the frantic knocks again. Who in the hell? He grabbed his leather jacket off the desk chair and made his way to the door, the sound pestering on.

“What?” He answered sharply but was immediately caught off guard. You stood on his door step, shivering and drenched to the bone. “Y/N, oh my God! Are you okay?” He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and guide you inside.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Your voice was strained. Broken. Your threw yourself into his chest, collapsing in the comfort and warmth of his skin, not considering how crazy you looked in that moment. You just needed to feel safe. Eddie rubbed your back as you cried. Soft shooshes cooed from his lips. Something was very wrong.

“What happened, Sweetheart?” He pulled away to face you. Eddie swept the wet strands of hair behind your ear, revealing your swollen face. A knot raised just above your temple, red and swollen skin trailing below and tracing down to your cheekbone. “Jesus Christ…Y/N.” You had never seen Eddie’s face so concerned. “Did- Did someone do this to you?” You couldn’t speak. You were fighting to regain your composure but you managed to nod a reply. Sadness swelled in Eddie’s chest. How could anyone find it in themself to hurt you like this? “Who did this!?” He gently cupped your face in his hands, tilting and lifting in search of any other marks. Your father’s face flashed in his memory. The look in his eyes as he dangled the bottle in his hands. The pieces began to fall together. Why you’d tense up anytime he was mentioned. Why you spoke in whispers on the phone. How did he miss all the signs? “He did this to you.” It wasn’t a question. It was an understanding. He locked his deep brown eyes on you. You nodded in his hands. Tears brimmed and threatened to spill over when he saw the way your lip trembled.

“I can’t go back there, Eddie.” Your chest heaved as you choked back another sob. He pressed your face into his chest, his hand cradling the side of your head. His skin burned hot while yours was ice. You melted together in the embrace.

“You don’t have to. We’ll figure something out.”

———

“These looked like they’d fit. I tossed them in the dryer so they’d be extra warm.” Eddie handed off a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt smelling of fresh dryer sheets. You smiled up at him through your lashes while you sat on the edge of the bathtub. The towel Eddie drape over you still rested on your shoulders. He was an excellent caretaker. You moved your makeshift ice pack/bag of frozen peas off your temple so you could shake out the clothes.

“I really appreciate this…all of it.” There was no way to properly thank him or express how sincere you truly were.

“Don’t do that.” He smiled.

“Do what?”

“Don’t thank me for being nice to you, it’s weird!” You chuckled a little at that. It was weird having someone care about you like this. You lifted your soggy tshirt over your head, separating it for the tank top that clung to your body. For the first time, Eddie could see what your father had done to you. Bruises on your shoulder and across your arms. All varying in size and color. Some fresh, some old. He dropped his breath.

“No sense in hiding them anymore I guess.” You shrugged off the initial embarrassment. You shouldn’t be the one who felt ashamed. Yet you did.

“Does it happen a lot?” Eddie sat down on the lid of the toilet seat and twisted his body towards you.

“Couple times a week.” You shrugged. “It’s getting worse. Since mom left…it’s like he looks for reasons to hurt me. I-I don’t know if he blames me for what happened or if he just takes it out on me because I’m the only one there…” You’d never talked to anyone about what you’ve been through. What you continue to go through. But with Eddie, you felt like you could be transparent. He absorbed every word, not daring to speak until you got it all off your chest. Your honesty cut him like a knife. It took him back to his days of being a confused child. Wondering why his dad would strike him. What he could’ve done to deserve it. Eddie wanted your father to pay for what he did to you but chose to keep his anger to himself. You didn’t need more talks of violence, even if it would be justified. You needed comfort and understanding. “He treated my mom like shit. She met this guy who made her feel like she was worth something, yknow? She packed up in the middle of the night. Left. No clue where.” You shook your head. “But after that…Dad wasn’t the same. He started drinking all the time. Picking fights with me for no reason…and it just kept getting worse.” Your eyes started to wet. “Now I’m here.”

“All the bullshit aside, I’m glad you’re here.” Eddie reached over to grab your hand. He let his thumb run circles along the back. His heart was heavy for you. He knew what you were going through and it was something who wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

———

You and Eddie sat up on the couch for a while watching reruns of some dated sitcom. Something about the sounds of canned-laughter with Eddie’s arm draped around you soothed your jangled nerves. Your eyes were grew heavy as you rested in the dim light of Eddie’s living room. You were utterly exhausted by everything that had transpired that day. Your head would droop and pop back up with fluttered blinks. The cycle repeated at least three times before Eddie spoke up.

“Just close your eyes, sweetheart. I know you’re tired.” His voice was soft and hushed.

“I don’t wanna leave you up though.” You rubbed your knuckle into your tired eyes to try and drive the sleepiness away.

“Don’t worry about me.” He laughed. “I’m practically nocturnal. Now, c’mon. Lay down.” Eddie swung his legs up on the couch and pulled you into him so that your back could rest against his stomach and head to his chest. He shuffled between so many emotions as you finally drifted off to sleep against him. Happy he could finally hold you. Saddened by your circumstances and what brought you to him. And ultimately guilty for enjoying every second of it.

The morning light cut through the blinds in blue ribbons across the walls of the quant, mobile home. Wayne had just finished up his shift at the plant. Tired and overworked, more than anything he wanted to stretch out on the couch and close his eyes. Eddie had thrown his uncle for a loop a time or two in the past but that didn’t prepare him for when he opened the front door to see his nephew all snuggled up with some girl.

“Eddie!” He boomed, sending a shockwave through the boy’s body. He sprang up to a sitting position, nearly toppling you over and into the floor.

“Hey-Hey, Wayne! Can we, uh-can we talk for a second?” Wayne was not amused in the slightest by his nephew’s sheepish behavior.

“Oh, we’re gonna have a talk alright.” He crossed his arms over his chest, not bothering to look at you. His attention was focused solely on Eddie.

“I guess I should-….I have to go to the bathroom.” You made yourself scarce and pitter pattered to bathroom. You knew you shouldn’t but you left the door cracked so you could eaves drop on their conversation.

“Okay, Wayne…I know what it looks like.”

“It looks like your sneaking girls home!”

“I know, I know but it’s not like that!” Eddie huffed hoping the other man would understand. He dropped his voice so maybe you wouldn’t hear him. “She needs help, Wayne. Her dad abuses her. She showed up here crying last night because she didn’t know where else to go. What was I supposed to do, send her right back to him? He grabbed her by the hair and rammed her head into the wall, for Christ’s sake!” Eddie spoke in whispers so you couldn’t hear. “I just wanted her safe. Honest.” His eyes were pleading. Wayne ran a hand over his scratchy beard recalling how he felt when he first learned of Eddie being abused. He thought back to that scared little boy crying in the cab of his truck because his mommy and daddy were two pieces of shit who couldn’t figure out how to love their own flesh and blood. It was a sensitive subject for Wayne. He turned towards the bathroom feeling your eyes peak through the cracks of the door. You tried to shut it in a hurry but we’re already caught.

“Hey! C’mere a second.” It was a request but his stern voice made it feel an awful lot like a demand. You walked slowly back to the center of the living room where the two men stood, watching you. Wayne stepped in front of you, examining the fresh bruise along the side of your face. His heart screamed ‘I’m sorry this happened to you’ but his face remained neutral. “That’s a shiner alright.” He shook his head in disgust. You nervously looked the other way. You weren’t used to people remarking on your father’s doings. It was your own secret shame and not one you’d willingly share. “Still hurt?”

“Y-Yea. A little.” You wanted to sound brave and unphased but you sounded more like a child than anything.

“There’s Tylenol in the medicine cabinet.” Wayne huffed and began pacing the floor. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re a little limited on space here.” He gestured to his work clothes that hung on a rack in the corner of the room. You dropped your head sensing that you’d soon be sent away. Eddie waited with bated breath, praying his uncle wouldn’t make you go back. “But you’re welcome to stay here until we get this mess sorted out.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie x fem!reader

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