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#and he died in a car crash. and they say they just did something with his car so that he died
unhonestlymirror · 4 months
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Me: I wonder whom I draw Liet from-
Kuźma Skryabin:
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lucyrose191 · 6 months
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hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏
COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL
Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader
Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.
Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.
F1 Master List
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It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.
So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.
Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.
She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.
She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.
She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.
She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.
Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.
"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.
"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.
"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.
"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.
Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.
"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"
Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"
Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."
It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.
No response
No response
No response
He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.
He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.
Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.
If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.
Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.
"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.
Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.
He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.
As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.
She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.
"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."
Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.
She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."
It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"
This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.
"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."
Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"
The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."
"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"
"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."
Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.
"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"
"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.
The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"
Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.
The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."
"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.
"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."
The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.
The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.
She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.
He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.
He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.
He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.
It was way too silent in here, he hated it.
He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.
"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."
Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.
She didn’t.
He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.
Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.
He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.
He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.
Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.
It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.
A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.
Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.
He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.
"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."
Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.
"Is she okay?"
Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"
Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German’s eyes.
"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."
Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.
Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.
It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.
He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.
He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.
He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.
Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.
Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.
He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.
He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.
Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.
"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.
"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.
"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.
"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.
"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."
"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."
"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"
"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."
Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.
"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.
The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.
He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.
They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.
He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.
"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.
He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.
Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.
He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.
Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.
The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.
He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.
It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.
He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.
He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.
It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.
"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.
Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.
He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.
"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.
"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.
"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.
"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.
"Hey, are you alright, mate?"
Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."
"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"
Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."
He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.
"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"
"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.
"What do you want?"
"I want what everyone else wants."
"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."
Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.
"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."
Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."
Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."
"What?"
Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."
"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.
Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."
"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.
"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."
Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.
He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.
He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.
He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.
"How is she?" He immediately asked.
"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.
"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.
"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."
Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.
He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.
He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.
When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.
Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!
She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.
She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.
"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.
He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.
"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.
"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.
"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.
"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.
Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.
"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.
"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.
"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.
Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.
Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."
"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.
He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.
He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.
Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.
"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."
"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.
"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,
He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
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mr-walkingrainbow · 8 months
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CALLING ALL MONSTER HIGH FANS. I JUST MET GARRETT. AND I WAS ABLE TO SCAVENGE SO MUCH LORE AND CONFIRMED HEADCANONS TO YOU. THIS IS ALL SAID BY GARRET OR CONFIRMED. I HAVE SPOKEN TO GOD AND HE HAS SPOKEN BACK
#1. Robecca and Venus were implied and ARE dating!!! He said it was like. Just like other monsters they had tried putting hints and characteristics into monsters that we could see and relate too. (He also said it outright down here. Lol I got all the proof guys!)
2. They never actually came up with Jane Boolittles Origins. And yes Dr. Morou and Dr. Boolittle raised her. But it was always a thing to them they'd say ‘oh well get back to this’. And then they never did. When asked; he genuinely doesn’t remember what they had planned for her.
3. a REALLY big mystery solved and lore dump guys. This one’s juicy. I KNOW HOW SPECTRA DIED. I KNOW HOW SHE DIED. AND WHAT THE TRAUMATIC STORY WAS FOR HER. I ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW! Y’all ready? Drumroll…. It was, a, CAR CRASH! Yes you heard me. THE VONDERGEIST FAMILY ALL DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I think he said he she just came with her family off skirts and they got into an accident. I’ll reblog this with the video of him saying it!
4. Toralei lives in a monster high housing/boarding building when she is not attending school. This place is used for kids who do not have a place to go too, or if their home is too far to return to easily. I think there was an error somewhere where she mentioned parents? I mentioned that to him and he was very confused/didn’t remember. Reconfirmed that if she wasn’t in the monster high housing area. She would have been in either Jail or The streets.
5. Robecca was not rebuilt for 100 years due to Misogyny. Also because it had to go into the lines of her ‘mysteriously’ disappearing for her to have her comeback. I asked about how it was low key such a dark story, and he mentioned that since technically Monster high was the ‘horror’ genre. He was able to get away with things like that.
6. the Vampire Heart mystery! So remember how in Friday night frights we all see Ghoulia place a Robot Heart into Robeccas chest. Something that is very clearly not the Vampires heart? But then suddenly in Frights camera action it’s there? Well, technically that’s an official Error by the crew. He actually said he noticed it, and told management and stuff like ‘won’t people notice it?’ And they were all like ‘nah it will be fine no one will notice’. But then we all clearly did lol. He also said that because if this, he came up with the idea that the Vampires heart was ENCASED in the Robot heart we saw in Friday night frights. Ergo, explaining how Robecca had two hearts in one body! (It’s also confirmed Hexiciah placed the Vampires heart into her while he was building her. Which would explain why she didn’t remember it was their).
#7. Gooliope Jellingtons Origins. I asked what her origins were. And basically, she DOES NOT have any parents. She was CREATED IN A LAB. Which apparently didn’t treat her right. So she ESCAPED the lab and ran away to the circus! (Or blobbed away?) because he also confirmed, she was the blob. Or based off the blob. She wasn’t actually like. The daughter of the blob. She WAS the blob itself.
#8. Kiyomi Haunterly is Gay! I know this is was already somewhat canon and said before. But I asked and he confirmed it that she was in fact, Gay. And he tried to show it in her diary.
#9. We’re reaching some only implied/supported things. Not fully confirmed or intended. But Kala Mer’ri has BPD. I asked about if she has anything like BPD cause I relate and saw that a lot in her. He replied that he did try to make attributes for each Character specifically so we could related to them like that. And that it was to also make sure every character wasn’t a carbon copy of another. Basically. He didn’t like. Outright say ‘yes. She has bpd’. But he also didn’t disprove it. And he reacted positively to the idea and supported it.
#10. Robecca Steam has ADHD. It’s basically the same as above. Although he did like the note that I (someone with adhd) specifically had the same traits with Robecca, even more specifically, that we both are ALWAYS late. And can never keep track of time to save our unlife.
11. Dedyet DeNile Origins. He actually completely forgot about Cleo’s Mother eventually being reunited. I had asked how she had ended up in that same weird time loop Tomb thag Hexiciah was stuck in. (Which they were eventually freed by Robecca in her SDCC diary). He said he completely forgot about that. And genuinely didn’t remember anything about it. I basically re-explained the whole thing and he was very interested. Unfortunately. Not to much origins to go on.
11. here’s a canon one! What happened to Aamanita Nightshade after she left the DeNiles in the tomb. It was kinda funny, but he basically was like ‘Amanita went up and was just like ‘Peace!’’ And then never came back.’ She goofed around a bit, buuut it wasn’t entirely like her fault? She quickly went back to sleep after breaching the surface. So yeah. She was not awake for long. She quickly went back into flower mode until she woke up again at the Gloom and Bloom party.
12. He’s working on another one of his Monster prints! He sells them on his online shop here
He’s currently working on Toralei!!!!! He said he was working on her on the way over. And that he was trying to go in Order of the G1 doll releases. He mentioned he had only done Skelita out of Order because she was like ‘that one’ who was INSANELY popular with fans when she came out. Especially in Mexico. It’s also why she was the only Funko pop made who was not part of the main ghouls.
13. Random. But he actually didn’t create each backstory individually by himself. In the beginning he did A LOT. Like Frankie was the first backstory he ever created. And it got more help and divided as more and more characters were introduced.
14. he has read every single diary for every monster. Cool little fact cause DAMN theirs a whole bunch of them.
15. everything in the Ghoulfriends book series is CANON in the monster verse.
And that is ALL FOLKS! I had held those questions in for about 7-8 years. So it was everything to me to have them answered and confirmed! I really tried to ask everything that was a huge mystery to us monster folks. And I hope you guys are excited to see all these new CANON facts!!!
I’m sorry if this is not everything. Just like Robecca. I forget stuff pretty easily. I’m wracking my brain for every little detail. Unfortunately my father didn’t record as much as I would have liked. But he did get some perfect key moments! And I’ll make sure to reblog with those moments as proof of confirmation!
I love y’all! Make sure this goes viral so every monster high fan gets to hear the news!
Signing out, I’m Tumblr Spectra Vondergeist, and I report the news.
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hanggarae · 8 months
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FAST PACE— 빠른 걸음
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racer!choi seungcheol x gn!reader, 0.7k words, fluff, reader is terrified of motorcycles + fast driving, cheol has/had piercings, street races, mention of lip cut
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“oh no you’re crazy if you think i’m getting on that thing” you half screamed at seungcheol when he revved up his motorcycle.
the man in question giving you a mock offended look, hand placed over his chest to console his unbroken heart. “‘thing?’ baby this is our first child what do you mean?”
you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend. he always got like this. he loved the thrills and adrenaline in life.
you however were the complete opposite. in theory, yes riding a motorcycle and driving at an insane speed in a car was cool- but in reality it was terrifying. you could be with the most safest driver in the world with no chance of crashing but you’d still be scared and sobbing the entire time.
and truth be told you didn’t get the big deal about it all. you supported your boyfriend and loved how happy he’d get when describing the rush to you but his descriptions are the closest you’ll ever allow yourself to get to motorcycles and fast cars.
“come on baby it’ll be fun!” seungcheol smiled at you, that same charming smile he gave you when you turned up at one of his races because your friend dragged you along.
“i don’t think so cheol..” you told him warily, waving your hands ‘no’ in front of his own that was inching a helmet closer to you.
seungcheol huffed out a laugh, making you look at him a little confused before he pulled you closer to him, engulfing you in a hug.
“it’s just reminding me of when we first met” he smiled, dimples marking deep on his cheek.
you smiled yourself when you thought back on the memory. back then, seungcheol hadn’t gone pro yet and only drove around for street races that your friends urged you to come with them to. it was cool to see, even if the noises made your head hurt.
“shua! you focus on the tall dude with the blonde hair, i’ll tail the one with the buzz cut, got it?” you heard someone say in front of you. when you looked up, you saw it was one of the racers on the team your friends were rooting for.
he wore a graphic tee and a leather jacket. ‘typical’ you rolled your eyes and then scanned the rest of his face to see numerous piercings on his face. looking around, you could see his friends were all pretty similar. more or less all of them wore some sort of leather attire with at least one piercing on either their eyebrow, lip or nose.
when he turned around to grab something from a friend of his he noticed your stare on him, shooting you a smirk before he got in his car.
he obviously won, coming back to cheers from the rest of his friends as well as yours. although you didn’t know much about him, you ended up naturally cheering for him too. he just looked so happy about it and honestly so cute when he hugged his friend that was racing with him.
after the crowd died down, seungcheol approached you again, asking you on a date with a flower that he said he picked and offering you a ride on his motorcycle.
now seungcheol still gets you flowers every time he finishes a race. and he still looks as cute as he did before, trying to hide the flowers behind his back to surprise you but you always know what’s coming when he walks up to you with that same grin.
his hair’s blonde now, he dyed it a few months ago and you can’t help but play with it every time- it compliments his racer jacket so well.
you brushed your thumb on his lip and then the skin on top of his cheek, below his eyes. he doesn’t wear his piercings often anymore. when you asked he said he stopped because it looks more professional without them, but he once let slip to you when he was drunk that he didn’t like wearing them after you’d accidentally cut your lip on it when you kissed him.
“so” seungcheol dragged out, motioning to his spare helmet once more and shooting you a look that said “what do you say?”
you gulped harshly, looking over the motorcycle while biting at your bottom lip. when you saw that pleading look on his face you knew you were done for.
sighing, you took the helmet from him and strapped it on then hopped on to the bike while holding seungcheol’s waist as tightly as you could. “just make sure you go super slow, okay?” you looked at him nervous.
seungcheol smiled again, moving closer to place a kiss on your cheek, “okay”
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Text
You Missed My Heart: PART 2
PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |      PART 3 LINK
Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.
Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.
Word Count: 11,305 
Author’s Note: I swear I re-wrote this three different times and all of them were drastically different. I checked for typos, but I’m posting this at four in the morning so there may be a few. 
Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, dub-con (if you squint), piv, oral, unprotected sex; Miguel gets injured at one point; Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)
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Minors DNI! Story is below the cut
I groaned as I opened my eyes. My face was pressed in the crook between where Miguel’s ribs and arms would normally meet. He had moved me there in the middle of the night when I had managed to drift too far away from him. I had tried to squirm and protest, but I ended up caving before he would let go. I knew he was stubborn enough to pin me there out of spite and it wasn’t worth it.
Miguel was still awake somehow. It was dark in the room, save for the faint light that drifted through the curtains. Whatever time it was, it was either too late or too early for him to be up.
“Go back to sleep.” Miguel said. His voice was stern but gentle. I slid my hands down and grabbed onto the edge of the blanket. I hauled it upward, pulling it over my head. He let out a low chuckle as he watched me try to disappear.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Just after three.” He leaned down and pressed a quick peck against the blanket that covered the top of my head. “Get some sleep.” 
I glanced up at the gap between his chest and the blanket. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting his features in soft lines and shadows. He looked angelic. He was focusing on something in front of him, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows every so often. 
What was he doing?
I gently pulled down the blanket so that I could see what he was up to. 
Miguel was propped up on a pillow that leaned against the headboard. His eyes were focused on his hands, which were held out in front of him, spaced apart by about six inches, palm facing palm. Threads glistened between his fingers in the moonlight. His fingers were twisting and weaving new threads around the ones that lay between his fingers. The thin webs had been pulled from his spinnerets in his upper wrists. It was like watching someone play cat’s cradle.
One of his arms rested on my back. It didn’t hurt; it wasn’t even uncomfortable, but it did hold me in place, only allowing me the bare minimum of space for my chest to move as I breathed.
“You should go to sleep, too.” I said. I turned my head back and buried my face in his chest. He smiled, continuing to work. 
“I’m not tired.”
I glanced up at him. His dark eyes were beautiful like this. His face looked peaceful. I was too tired to see if he was lying or not.
“Have you gotten any sleep yet? Any at all?” I asked. He shook his head. 
“I’ll be alright. Just close your eyes.” 
I nodded, too tired to argue with him. I started to say something, but the words slurred together until I fell silent. Sleep pulled me in, welcoming me warmly. 
“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, never faltering in his work. 
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Something clattered to the floor downstairs, ripping me from my dream.
I winced, feeling the sun burn my eyes as it streamed in through the window. I tried to push myself upward, but I was overtaken with a dull ache in all of my muscles. 
Fucking hell.
It felt like I had been in a car crash. Every part of my body hurt. But, the most noticeable ache was between my legs. I swallowed hard as I pushed myself upward. I needed aspirin. 
As I moved, I couldn’t help but notice a divot in the bed on Miguel’s side. It was lined with sheets that had been ripped through. The hole was a decent size; roughly the size of a fist and a couple of inches deep. 
It hadn’t been there last night. At least, I hadn’t seen it there.
I slid my right hand over to touch the edges of the divot. It was the perfect size to accommodate Miguel’s hand. But why was it there?
I winced, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my body. If he was in a decent mood, I could ask him about it. If not, it didn’t really matter.   
I leaned over and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. As I moved, a faint twinkle caught my eye. I flipped my hand over. In the middle of the night, Miguel had slipped something around my ring finger. It was a thin band that had been braided from webbing and then tied off on the front of my finger with a small knot. 
Huh.
I tapped my thumb against the material, expecting it to stick to my finger in the same way that the web had stuck to my ankle last night. But this one didn’t. It had been worn smooth by his fingertips. The material looked almost silver in the early morning light. When I pulled my hand into the shadows, it looked almost like braided moonstone. 
I wasn’t sure whether to feel violated by the fact that he had placed a wedding ring on me in the middle of the night, or impressed by the precision it had taken to make it. 
I turned my hand back and forth, inspecting the thing from all angles. If I had known him for any meaningful amount of time, it would have been a sweet and loving gesture. 
I groaned. It was a gift from the man who had basically kidnapped me from my home, but still, I needed to take whatever nice gestures I could get, no matter how presumptuous. 
I unscrewed the cap and dropped several pills into the palm of my hand. I pushed the first pill into my mouth. As I went to swallow, I couldn’t help but notice the faint numbness that lingered on my bottom lip. It was in the exact spot that his fangs had nipped, either on purpose or mistake.
That’s… weird.
I swallowed the pill and then leaned down to touch my thighs. Bright red marks covered my legs, showing off his handy-work. I quickly slid my fingers along the skin… only to meet the same result. 
The skin was numb. It was almost impossible to move the half centimeters of flesh that had been ever so gently nicked. He hadn’t bit me; not really. Just a graze was enough to do that. 
Jesus.
I winced as I downed the second pill. Then I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the dresser. I needed something to wear. But, I wasn’t wearing more lingerie. It already hurt to walk; I needed time to heal before I wore anything close to that again. I sighed as I stepped across the room, looking for something to wear. Miguel had laid his sweatshirt from last night on the dresser. I was sure that he had left it for me after my complaint last night. 
Maybe it was a peace offering. Or maybe the sex had been the peace offering and this was just him being nice.  
I quickly pulled it on. It was long enough to cover my hips and a good part of my thighs. I quickly snagged a pair of underwear from the dresser and pulled them on, as well.
Downstairs, something else clattered to the floor. What the hell was he doing?
As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed the boxes that had been piled up outside of the yellow door. I flipped open one of the cardboard tabs. Inside lay my things. At the bottom of the box, I noticed the sleeve of one of my sweaters. He had brought me my things, just as he had said he would. Did he ever go to sleep last night?
I padded down the stairs, making my way to the kitchen with every step. I figured that that was where he was. He didn’t seem like the kind to just linger around the house, looking for some kind of mindless activity to fill his time. He seemed too serious for that. 
I stepped into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. He was standing in front of the stove, pushing around eggs in a skillet. The downstairs was cold from the winter air but he was still wearing only a thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
He was a portrait of domesticity. 
I watched him closely as I stepped into the room.
“I made breakfast.” He said. 
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked. I couldn’t help but notice that the shattered plate had been picked out of the sink and had been thrown into the trash. He turned to meet my gaze. The dark circles under his eyes told me everything that I needed to know. 
“Miguel, you need to go back to bed.”
“I’ll be fine.” He frowned as he pushed the spatula around in the skillet. “I made coffee.”
“Thank you.” I made my way toward the coffee pot that rested on the counter beside him. As I did, his eyes never left the stove. I reached for one of the coffee cups that had been laid out for me. As I did, I glanced back at Miguel. God, he looked tired. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” I asked. 
He scoffed. “I sleep perfectly fine.” 
“Okay then.” I muttered. Guess that was a touchy subject for him. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the coffee pot. I filled the mug with the dark liquid. As I leaned forward to slide it back into its original spot, Miguel stepped to the side and pulled open the door to the fridge. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a container of creamer and handed it to me, then slinked back to the stove before the eggs had the chance to begin to brown. 
“Thank you.” I said. Warm light from the kitchen caught the ring, making it twinkle again. I considered asking him about it, but I decided not to. Surely he would bring it up if it was something that he wanted to talk about. 
A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead as he focused on the skillet. “Do you need any help?” I asked. 
He quickly shook his head. “What’s on your mind?” I wanted to get even a scrap of conversation from him; I needed some idea as to what he was thinking about. Maybe I should just leave him alone. Maybe he liked to exist in silence. I mean, if nothing else, he seemed used to it. 
“Work. How did you sleep?” He asked. 
“Okay, I guess.”  I added the creamer to my coffee and then returned the container to the spot where he had pulled it from. I carried my mug back to the counter, watching as he lifted the skillet off of the stovetop. I lifted the mug to my lips but then suddenly jerked it back. The glass was hot; it burned the skin of my lower lip everywhere except for the small spot in the center of my mouth. 
“Fuck!” I touched the skin and was met with a familiar numbness. 
Miguel dropped the skillet onto the stove and rushed forward. Within seconds he had cleared the area between the stove and the counter, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, wasting no time to invade my personal space. “Sorry, I’m fine.” I said. I brushed my fingers along my lip, grazing the burned flesh and then the numbed skin. It felt weird and I didn’t like it. 
“Okay, sweetheart. Let me see.”
“It’s fine. I just burned myself.” He shook his head before reaching down and gently grabbing onto my chin. He pulled my head upward. My eyes met his for a moment before he turned his attention down to the mark on my mouth. 
“Move your hand.” He instructed. I did as I was told and dropped my hand down to the cold stone of the counter. 
“Miguel, I’m fine. I promise.” He didn’t believe me; I could tell from the deep line that had formed between his eyebrows.
“Open wide.” He instructed. His thumb slid across my lower lip. The touch was feather-light; almost too gentle, too caring. 
“Your face is red.” He remarked.
“This is demeaning.” The words slurred together as he inspected my mouth. 
“Is your lip numb?” His perfected vision could see the minute scrapes against my skin; tiny cuts that had been collateral damage in the excitement of the previous night. 
“A little bit.” He winced, but quickly fixed his expression before I could comment on it.
“It should wear off in a couple of hours. You weren’t actually bit so the effects shouldn’t be too bad. Just be careful not to hurt yourself.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
“What if you had bitten me?” I asked. He released my jaw from his hold. 
“That’s not something you need to worry about.” 
“But if it had… let’s say I’m someone else and you bit me, what would happen.” His face twitched. Something flickered behind his eyes as if he was considering it. His eyes didn’t leave my face.
“That’s not… no.” 
“Miguel, it’s a basic question. I barely know anything about you. If you’re planning on keeping me here, then I want to know-” he cut me off.
“And I said no. Damn it, why isn’t that enough for you? What are you wanting from me?” His voice was sharp and cold, like metal. Suddenly, the device on his wrist let out a low chirp. He glanced downward. 
He gave a low sigh. “I’ll get you a plate. You didn’t eat anything last night.” He turned and quickly began to mess with the thing on his wrist. 
I glanced down at the counter. A chorus of beeps came from his wrist as he worked. I gently slid my teeth against my bottom lip; the numbness was strangely fascinating. 
Without a word, Miguel sat the plate down in front of me. Steam drifted off the fresh eggs that covered the plate.
“Thank you.” He didn’t answer me. His eyes lingered on my face for a long moment before he leaned back against the countertop.
He rolled his hand around his wrist, moving his eyes between me and the device. “I have work to do today. But I restocked the fridge so there’s plenty for you to eat. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. The TV in the living room works, as does the stereo. Most of your books should be upstairs, so you should have plenty to occupy your time.”
“Thank you.” I said. I stabbed a bright yellow piece of egg with my fork. “How long are you going to be gone?” I asked. 
“Are you going to miss me?” He paused, waiting for a response. I nodded, partly because I knew it was the right answer and partly because I thought I would, even if just a little bit. He smiled, proud of my answer. “It shouldn’t be too long. Just a couple of things to correct, then I’ll be right back.” There was something about the way that he said the word ‘correct’ that made me wince. He meant kill; I thought of the blood on his face and knew what he meant when he said he fixed things. 
“Is there anything you think you’re going to do today?” Miguel asked. He wanted to know my plans for the day. Well, gee, Miguel, I’ll probably stay trapped here. 
Then something occurred to me. I was the only person here and I knew more of what was going on now. There was no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to explore.
“Can I leave the house?” I asked.
“And where would you go?” It seemed ridiculous to him to even ask. Why would I ever want to leave when I could sit in an empty house all by myself and pretend I wasn’t his prisoner?
“Out.” I said. “Maybe walk around the block. Is there another block or does it stop after what I can see from the front stoop?” 
“There’s other blocks. But I don’t understand why you would want to leave the house.” 
“Fucking hell, Miguel.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. I turned my attention to the plate. He ground his teeth together for a moment. He was choosing to ignore what I had said. 
“If you need something to occupy your time when I’m gone, I’ll get you a pet.” That doesn’t replace the fact that I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to pretend that my life was normal, even if there was nobody in Nueva York anymore. I could still act as if things hadn’t changed. 
“Ah, a pet for your pet. Doesn’t that seem a bit redundant?” I muttered. That jab had been entirely intentional. 
It was true, though. I was a pet to him; maybe I received different forms of affection than the standard house cat, but the same rules seemed to apply. He would come and go as he needed; I was to stay where I had been placed, always ready and willing to entertain when he came back. 
He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued to poke at the device on his wrist. “I’m ignoring you.” I rolled my eyes as I continued to eat. 
“It isn’t fair to lock me inside of a house and never let me leave. You ever heard of cabin fever? I’m going to end up going insane in here.”
“I highly doubt that.” His hair bounced as he spoke. He was shaking his head at me while he messed with his device. 
“Miguel.”
“You’ll be fine.” He said it like it was the end of the discussion. Hell, it wasn’t even a discussion; he just kept saying no. 
“Come on!”
“Is there something you’re wanting to say to me?” His tone was harsh. 
“Yeah, you’re really pissing me off.”
“You’ll get over it. You always do.” 
“Just tell me why. If you think I’m going to run away then where would I even go? There’s nothing out there. So why?” 
“It’s for your own good. Just stay in the damn house.” I rolled my eyes as I took a sip of the cooled coffee. 
“You never fucking tell me anything and then you get pissy when I ask questions.”
“I am not being pissy.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. There was a long moment of silence between us. 
“Don’t call me pissy.” He muttered. He sounded more annoyed than actually angry. He almost sounded like an annoyed child. I had to fight back a laugh at how petulant he sounded.
A weird silence hung in the air. I began to eat, ignoring how he fixed his eyes on me. Though, any time I would look up to catch his stare, he would glance back down and fiddle with his wrist. 
"I really do believe that you could start to like it here. I think you just need time. Then, you'll start to warm up to me."
He brushed his hair off of his forehead and let out a low sigh. "You do love me. You just need time." He said the first part for me. He repeated the second part for himself.
I did love him, at least a little bit. Even if just for the fact that he looked so much like another version of himself; a sweeter version… a softer one. 
Maybe he was capable of being that way. Or, maybe he was too far gone. 
His eyes moved upward to meet mine and I felt a sudden wave of shame wash over me. 
"You look beautiful this morning." He said. 
“Miguel,” I asked. His features softened at the sound of his name. “Is there any chance that I’ll ever get to go home?” 
He winced. “If you go back to your timeline, one of two things could happen. Either time will find a way to correct itself and you will die or everything will collapse in on itself. If that happened, it would kill every single person you’ve ever known and billions more.” A bright light shone from his wrist. 
It was time for him to go. 
He let out a low sigh. “I don’t…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at the ground for a moment. “I can’t send you back to die. I won’t.” 
I guess that was my answer.
He stepped toward me. His face had softened. “I want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” I didn’t reply. He moved closer, stopping only once our bodies were almost touching. 
I looked at him, unsure of what he wanted. He leaned down, placing a finger under my chin. It was the gentlest touch he could manage, yet it was backed with unfathomable strength. He lifted my chin up to meet his gaze.
“I love you. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Be a good girl for me. Okay?” I nodded. He pushed a quick peck against my lips before he walked off, heading toward the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Once he vanished from sight, I heard him begin to speak into his device.
A pink and orange light enveloped the living room; it was so bright that I winced. The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
Then, just like that, he was gone. 
I sighed to myself. Well, no time like the present. 
I pushed myself up, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed upstairs.
He would be gone for hours. There was no harm in exploring, especially since he wasn’t here to stop me. If he didn’t want to tell me anything, then I would have to find it out for myself. After all, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. 
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I stared at the yellow door upstairs. Not knowing what was inside was going to eat me alive. I knew it wasn’t an office; Miguel didn’t stay here long enough to do anything but drag me around and then try his idea of a romantic gesture. Maybe it was a storage room, but even then he was entirely too cagey about the whole thing. He didn’t strike me as the kind of person to have some kind of mindless hobby. 
Maybe he was living out the story of Bluebeard and there was something macabre inside. Maybe there was something perverse inside. 
It didn’t matter; I had to know. 
I pushed several of the boxes out of the way. I slid them several feet to the left. I could just move them back when I was done and he would never know. Stepping forward, I reached out and grabbed the door handle. Then, I gave a firm twist. 
It was locked.
Damn it. 
Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? He’s the one who locked me up. He’s the one who said I couldn’t leave the house. He’s the one that did all of this in the first place. 
I couldn’t help but notice that the locks on my door and this door were different. This door was aimed at keeping other people out of the space; mine was aimed at locking me inside, like a princess in a tower. 
I needed some way to get the door open. I was sure that I would understand this all a little better if I could just figure out why he was so determined to keep this a secret from me. 
Then, I remembered my Miguel fighting with the floorboard in our bedroom. Before he embarked on his noble mission to defeat the squeaking sound, he had bought a case of beer and a new set of screwdrivers. If this version of him was so determined to make a perfect copy of my house, then he would have added the set.
I dashed to the hall closet and quickly pulled out the black plastic case that rested on the bottom shelf. Bingo! I plucked the screwdriver from the box and then walked over to the yellow door. I knew that with the old style of lock, I just needed to get the metal inside of the keyhole to move. If it moved, then the door would pop open with no issue. 
I slotted the screwdriver into place and then twisted hard. At first, it didn’t even flinch. Then, after a moment,  the lock groaned and then popped open. I quickly twisted the brass door handle and smiled as the door opened. I pushed the door open wide and then flipped the lightswitch. 
What the fuck?
The room was small. Every wall had been painted a soft yellow; it was a step up from the stark white that the original room had been. A small stuffed elephant lay in the middle of a crib that was pushed against the far wall. A framed ultrasound sat on the bookshelf. Little pieces of a life; of hopes and memories, all packed away to be forgotten.
None of this was from my timeline. In my universe, this was just his office. It was where Miguel would disappear to for most of the night after returning from work. After he died, I locked the door and pretended the room didn’t exist. When the men from Alchemax showed up to take the cardboard boxes filled with his work, I didn’t even have the courage to peek inside of the room. The room was the black hole in the house, eating away at any chance of sleep or happiness that I had. 
At least that was something this Miguel and I seemed to share.
I stepped into the small room, moving toward the bookshelf that rested against the far wall. The shelf was the only thing that looked familiar. 
A box rested on the bottom shelf. I quickly dipped down and pulled it free. I flipped the lid and discarded it onto the floor in front of me. The box was filled with small photos. Some were older than others, each faded and weathered to different degrees. I sunk down to the floor. I moved so that I was sitting criss cross. 
I reached inside of the box and pulled out one of the photos. The picture was weathered, but I could still make out a version of me staring up at him with an adoring gaze. She wore a wedding dress and he wore a suit. 
Jesus.
I sat the photo on the floor beside me and then reached into the box and fished out a small handful. I started to sift through them, viewing little pieces of Miguel’s life as I went. When I reached the last three photos, I stopped. They were pictures of Miguel holding a little girl. She was small and perfect, with his eyes and his smile. 
His child. 
I winced as I looked at the pictures. The last photo was of Miguel and I standing behind her. She was sitting in a small plastic highchair with a cake in front of her. On it, there was a glowing candle in the shape of a ‘1’. Miguel’s mouth was open in the process of saying something as I laughed. It was a moment that was frozen, giving him a small slice of time to keep when it all disappeared.
Fucking hell. I leaned forward and put the pictures back in the box. I didn’t want to look at this anymore. I felt my stomach flip as a wave of nausea overtook me.
However, as I leaned over, I spotted several more photos in the bottom of the box. But, I did know these pictures. I just hadn’t known that they had been taken. In two of the pictures, I was inside of the bookstore that I had worked at. They were pictures of me, taken in my universe. But, when did he take them? After my version of him died, I didn’t go back to work. I was lucky if I left bed most days. So these pictures were older than that. 
Suddenly, I became aware of the footfalls that came from the stairs. 
Miguel was home entirely too early. 
And I was still in the nursery. My head was still spinning from the pictures. I tried to make myself get up and frantically put the pictures back, but I couldn’t make my body move.
I heard him begin to make his way toward the bedroom. But, when he saw that the yellow door had been opened, he picked up his pace. 
I didn’t look back at him when he stepped into the doorway.
I didn’t want to meet his gaze.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” His voice was lined with rage. I stared at the wall. I could hear him swearing under his breath, his tone flickering between pissed to sad and then back again. I glanced back to look at him for a moment. His face was tight and his eyes burned red. 
“This was your office… I’m sorry, his office.” I lifted my hand upward to point at the wall with the small window. The window had been decorated with pink curtains. “His desk was against that wall.” I glanced to the side of the room and then pointed at the left wall. “He kept all of his boxes against the wall. I only ever went inside of the office once and that was when I heard him and my dad arguing about something. But I never… I never found out what it was.” The screaming had happened two days before Miguel died and I couldn’t help but wonder if the two things had been connected. 
“I just wanted to know what was in here. That’s all.” I said. "Are you planning on locking me in my room again?" I asked. 
"No."
The man stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost. His features softened as he watched me. He walked deeper into the room, moving so that he was standing over me. He sat down on the floor beside me. His large frame was only a foot away from me; close enough to touch, but not so close as to scare me. As he sat there, I was once again reminded of how his body had always dwarfed mine. His body was large enough to provide me with either the utmost care or utmost cruelty, depending on which Miguel I got. 
“You had a child?” I asked. 
He winced. “I did.” 
“Do you want to talk about it?” My voice was little more than a whisper.
“No.” It was a sore spot for him. It was then that I noticed that he was focusing on the far wall, unable to meet my eyes. 
I was also a sore spot for him. 
I looked down at the floor as he began to speak again. 
“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said. His face twitched. His eyes began to fade from red to brown. He was reliving all of his failures, past and present. 
“I understand.” I said. He let out a dry laugh. 
“But you don’t. You really fucking don’t. Do you know what it’s like to watch you die in every timeline? Every universe? Either before or after me, there you go. Either you burn to death or are crushed or get killed in a car crash or die in some freak fucking accident… and I’ve had to sit and watch.” 
He shook his head. Several dark strands of hair fell across his face. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done… horrible things.” I flinched at his words. I couldn’t tell if it was self awareness or just simple self hatred. “I just wanted a part of you that was entirely mine. A piece of you that I can love and… keep.”
He said the last part so casually. It was as if it was all just a part of the daily dysfunction of a man with a savior complex and the full power to act upon it. He had everything a man or god could ever want, except for the power of self control. 
What he had done was unfathomably wrong, but the smallest part of me could understand it. The only real difference between us was that he actually could do something about it; when I lost everything, I could only lay in bed and cry. 
However, there wasn’t enough money in any timeline to make me admit that to him. Telling him I understood his actions would only feed into the delusion that this was right… that this was inherently good. 
I nodded slowly as I took in his words. He leaned back against his arms. He pushed his hands against the hardwood as he looked around the room, as if reliving a memory. His face was crestfallen. 
My fingers brushed his. He flinched, but then gave into the touch. I slid my fingers on top of his, pinning his hand between my skin and the cold hardwood. He sat still for a moment, taking in the small crumb of affection. Then, he lifted his pinky, moving it so that it slipped on top of my ring finger. 
He glanced down at our hands. His eyes became fixed on the small ring; he was entranced at the fact that I hadn’t taken it off yet. 
Miguel opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly changed his mind. He closed his mouth, allowing for the silence to overwhelm us. 
We were both kind of pathetic. But, I felt especially so at how I still wanted some kind of closeness with him. 
I didn't want to be alone, even if the only option was with the crazy man. 
I glanced up. My eyes met his.
I leaned forward, moving so that my face was only inches away from his. The room was cold and I was sure that he could see the hard goosebumps that had formed on my skin. His eyes danced over my face before drifting down to my lips. He looked like he wanted to tell me something, but it was as if it was stuck. Whatever words he wanted to say wouldn't come out. 
I filled the last inches of space between us. Slowly, I pressed my lips against his. Our lips moulded together, fitting like puzzle pieces. He let out a low groan.
He pulled his lips away from me, giving me a chance to catch my breath.
He lay his forehead against mine. Then he whispered something that was so faint, I couldn’t hear most of it. But, I could have sworn that the last words were a soft "I’m sorry."
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The next few weeks, we existed as ghosts. He barely spoke to me. On the rare occasion that he was home during the daytime, I would often catch him staring at me with a weird mixture of adoration and sadness. He was gone until late most nights. I had taken to crawling onto the couch and falling asleep there most nights. The house was too empty; too quiet. He wouldn’t come back until late and would then, without fail, haul me back to the bedroom. I would awaken every morning to a cup of coffee on the bedside table. He would squeeze my shoulder gently, though he was always gone by the time I opened my eyes. 
My head lay against one of the pillows that I had dragged downstairs from the bed. I sighed as I turned over. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just weird to try and sleep when there was no noise coming from outside. I had gotten so used to the sounds of the city lulling me to sleep. Now, I would toss and turn for hours until I would turn on the TV for some noise. 
I pulled one of the blankets higher up on my body. The house was freezing. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. 
Just after two.
Where was he? He usually came back around one or so. He was late. Time was ticking on and he was nowhere to be found. 
Damn it. I winced, realizing that I was actually worried about him. 
Suddenly, a bright light filled the first floor. I jerked upright, turning toward the kitchen. “Miguel?” I asked. I quickly pushed myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen.
"Miguel?" I repeated. I flipped on the light to the kitchen and saw him standing there. He was doubled over with one hand grasping the back of a chair. Blood dripped from his nose onto the faded tile below. 
"You need to go to bed." His voice was rough. I stepped deeper into the room, ignoring him. He let out a groan as he tried to pull on the back of his suit. He reached for something, but he couldn't grasp it. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath. I stopped several feet in front of him.
Slowly, he lifted his head. Blood covered his bottom lip. His face was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone. It was a gash that was slowly oozing dark blood. 
"Oh my God. Miguel!" I rushed forward, filling the distance. 
"It's not as bad as it looks. They’ll heal, they just need a bit of time.” He said. Blood ran down his jaw as he spoke. He looked bad; bad enough that, if he had been the other version of himself, we would have immediately been on the way to the hospital. 
There were several gashes that had managed to cut through his suit, exposing the skin beneath. 
Dear God, what the hell happened to him?
"Go away." He said. He waved his hand, motioning for me to do as I had been told. He leaned over the side of the counter. Bruises were blossoming on his tan skin, painting him in shades of blue and black. 
"Just let me help you. Are there any bandages in the house?" I asked.
"I don't need help."
"Miguel." 
"What?" His voice was harsh; his words lined with actual pain. 
"Stop being so damn stubborn and just let me help you." I said. I walked over the lower cabinet and pulled out a hand towel. I stepped back toward him, hoping that he would soften.
Instead, he scowled at me. "Go to bed. You're just working yourself up over nothing."  
"This isn't nothing." 
He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward. "I'm completely fine." His leg went out from under him. I tried to catch and steady him, but instead, we both tumbled to the ground below. 
I watched as several of the more superficial cuts on his body began to close. 
"Jesus, Miguel. What happened?" He shook his head as he pushed himself off of the floor. 
"It's nothing. That's why I didn't want you to see any of this." He paused. "What the hell are you even doing down here?" He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself. Part of me expected to see him break the counter under his fingers. 
I pushed myself off of the floor and rushed to his side. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. He shook his head. 
"I'm going to clean up. Go to bed." He winced as he stepped away from the counter. Based on the way he winced as he touched his side, he probably had a cracked rib.
I couldn't imagine anything that was strong enough to do this to him. Unless it had been something, or several somethings, that were all exactly like him. 
"I'm going to help you." I said. I eyed one of the deeper bruises that covered the side of his jaw. He caught me staring at the dark mark. 
"They'll heal, I swear. I can heal relatively fast." He said. Fear tore through me. What if he was wrong? What if he was lying? He hadn't meant for me to see him coming home. He had fully intended on keeping this hidden from me, regardless of how badly he was hurt. "The worst ones are the cuts but even those will be fine in an hour or two."
I had already lost him once…
He glanced over at me. Fear swirled in my eyes as I watched him. Based on the way that his face twitched, I knew he could see it. 
He glanced down at the floor. Then, he leaned to the side and caught my arm in his gloved hand. His touch was gentle, but commanding.
"Come here." He instructed. I shifted toward him, moving until his chest was almost touching mine. I could hear his steady heartbeat and feel the warmth that was pouring off his skin. 
"I love you. I promise I'm okay." His voice was no more than a whisper. 
"Just let me help you." I said. He sighed to himself, giving in to my attempt at kindness.
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The downstairs bathroom was quiet. Miguel was perched on the edge of the tub, watching as I leaned over the edge of the basin.
I turned the metal handles to the tub. Warm water spurted into the bottom of the tub. I watched as it began to pool at the bottom. Outside, I could hear the thunder boom. Rain beat against the roof of the house, filling it with the soft sound of water hitting 
"This isn't necessary. You should go back to sleep." He said. He pressed the towel to his face. Most of the blood had stopped flowing. 
"I wasn't asleep." 
"Why not?"
"The house is creepy at night. It's too quiet. I'm used to actual sounds from the city and there just aren't any here."
"I'm sorry." 
"It's fine." 
Soon, the tub was filled three quarters of the way. I leaned over and quickly turned off the flow of water. I straightened my stance and then looked back at Miguel. He offered a soft smile. A bruise blossomed just below his eye, though it immediately began to fade away. 
"I was really worried about you." I admitted.
"I'm okay."
"Are you?" I didn't believe him. He looked rough. It was as if he had been dragged through hell. It hurt to look at him too long. 
"This is all… purely superficial. I'll be better soon." I crossed my arms. Worry and fear covered my face; it was impossible to hide. 
"Sweetheart, there's nothing to worry about." His voice was like warm honey. He lifted his hand upward and motioned for me to come to him. Without question, I did. 
One arm gently curled around my waist. The other drifted upward to ghost the side of my face.
"I'm okay. This all just…" he sighed. He leaned his face forward and gently touched his forehead to my stomach. Warm skin pressed into my shirt. I could feel him slowly inhale as he breathed me in. Then, he lifted his face, peering up at me in the dim room. "This is just how it is." His voice was no more than a whisper. 
"You look tired." He said. He noticed the dark circles under my eyes.
"You're one to talk." He let out a humorless laugh.
His fingers slid across my cheek, wiping away a dark droplet that had landed on my skin. The material on his fingers was smoother than I had imagined. 
"You don't have to take care of me."
"Well, you don't seem to have any sense of self preservation. So if I don't, I don't figure you'll take care of yourself." I said. He looked at my face for a long moment. A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 
"No, that's not it. I think you care about me." Pride bubbled in his voice. I rolled my eyes. 
"Strip and get in the tub."
"Yes, Ma'am." He taunted. He winced as he reached backward again, tugging at the neck of the suit. His usual gracefulness was gone. He groaned, pulling at the back of the suit to no avail. 
"Are you okay?" I asked. He winced again as he tried to grab onto something that wasn't there. 
"I got hit earlier and I think the thing broke. I can't get it to move." His fingers worked over the material but it was no use.
"Here. Let me get it." I said. He stooped downward, moving so that I could actually grab onto the back of the material. He awkwardly leaned over as I pulled at the metal on the back of the suit. It looked like there had once been a zipper, but the tiny handle had been busted. Below it were several small clasps that had been bent down to cover the path of the zipper. 
"They really did a number on you." I murmured. I pushed my thumb under one of the clasps. I bent it forward, moving it so that I could see the path of the zipper. I did the same for the other pieces of metal that had become deformed. Then, I pinched what remained of the head of the zipper. I pulled the zipper downward, hearing him sigh softly when I unzipped the material between his shoulder blades. His skin spread out between my fingers, warm and slightly wet from sweat.
"There you go." I said. I released him and stepped backward. He should be good to go now. 
I watched as he effortlessly peeled the suit off of his bruised body. The bruises were changing in color, some getting darker as others began to fade before my eyes. 
He pulled the suit off of his arms, then down his muscular torso. As he reached his hips, I looked away, suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything beneath the skin tight material. 
My face turned bright red. I looked at the door behind us, waiting for him to climb into the water. "You're blushing." 
"No, I'm… just get in the water." I heard him chuckle as he stepped out of the material. He crudely folded the material and then tossed it across the floor. It landed in a pile beside my left foot. I rolled my eyes. 
"Sweetheart, you don't have to look away from me." He said. I heard the water move as he stepped into the tub. I turned around, watching as he sank into the bath. 
I watched a dark bruise on his bare collarbone fade into his skin before disappearing. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. 
He was always full of surprises.
Miguel leaned back against the cold metal of the tub. Outside, lightning shot across the sky. It filled the room with a sudden white light. 
“I’ll clean up the floor in a little bit.” He said. The tiles in the kitchen and bathroom were stained and slick. In the dim light, the droplets on the floor looked almost black.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to go to bed after this.” I said. “And you’re actually going to sleep.” 
"That's what you think." He muttered. 
"Are you always this stubborn?” I asked. 
"Only for you, sweetheart." 
I grabbed a towel off of the counter and gently dabbed it against his cheek. His eyes focused hard on my face as I tried to tend to his fading wounds. He was attempting to read my features. I sat down beside the bathtub.
“Do I want to know what happened?” I asked. It wasn’t a playful or light question. He could hear the weight in my voice as I cleaned his face. 
“You wouldn’t like me anymore if I told you.” It was such an honest comment that I could tell it pained him. If I knew what he did when he was away, then any chance of me loving him would vanish.
Maybe it was best that I didn’t know. 
"Are you in any pain?" I asked. He shook his head. 
Steam from the tub drifted upward, clinging to his strong chest in thick beads.  
"Why have you been ignoring me for the last week?" I asked. His face tensed.
"I haven't been."
I scoffed lightly as I gently wiped his face with a towel. "And you said I was bad at acting." 
"I've had a lot on my mind." He said. I nodded slowly. 
"You can talk to me." I said. He offered a faint smile. He couldn't, because it was most likely about me. 
"Are you mad at me?" I asked. He shook his head. 
"No, I promise." I looked down at the tile floor. I didn't know what to say to him. Something weird hung in the space between us.
Suddenly, his voice cut through the cold air. 
"Get in with me." He said. 
"What? No." I said. He furrowed his brow. He hadn't expected me to refuse. 
"Why?" he asked. 
"Because you're wounded and I don't want to hurt you."
He let out a low laugh, almost as if he was mocking me. "Believe me, it's impossible for you to hurt me. Now be a good girl and get in the tub."
"You know I'm not your pet, right?" He smirked at my words. A pet was exactly what he considered me to be; maybe a darling pet that he seemed to have a steadfast devotion to, but a pet nonetheless. I rolled my eyes and began to stand up from where I had been perched. 
"Come on, sweetheart. Just get in with me. Please?" His voice was warm, much like his eyes. I sighed as I watched him. 
A nagging voice told me to just walk off. Just go to bed and ignore him. He was clearly fine. Everything that he said would happen, had actually happened. He was healing up perfectly fine. He didn't need to be babied; he was a kidnapper, not a stray cat that needed to be brought in from the rain. But still, I couldn't make myself leave the small bathroom. 
"Please?" He repeated. I groaned before I stepped back from the tub. I grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt and pulled it upward. I hauled it over my head and then discarded it onto the floor. My pajama bottoms and underwear followed close behind.
Stepping forward, I felt the cold air bite into my skin. I winced before casting a leg over the edge of the tub. I had picked the opposite side of the tub to where he was sitting, though something told me he had wanted me to climb on top of him. 
I sank into the water across from him. I lifted my hands to my chest and quickly crossed my arms in an attempt at maintaining some sense of modesty. Miguel's eyes traced over me, drinking me in. His gaze was so intense that it made me squirm. 
"Stop staring at me." I said. 
"You're beautiful." His voice was low and warm. I readjusted my arms to make sure I was covered. I wracked my brain, searching for something to say.
"So, what's the thing about this timeline?" I said.
"What do you mean 'thing'?" He asked. 
"What makes it different from my timeline? I mean, there's absolutely no way that everything is the same. And, even with all of the people gone, there's got to be something weird here."
"Firstly, ouch. Bold of you to assume that my work isn't perfect." He lifted his index finger as he playfully chided me. 
"What's the second thing?" I asked. 
"Secondly, aren't we enough of a 'thing'?" We were both here. That was weird, as far as timelines went. We were both alive and okay, regardless of how we had ended up here.
"Come on. Surely there's something weird here. Maybe they call tuna by some other weird name or maybe the movie Titanic doesn't exist here."
"Well, you're the only person here, so you can call tuna whatever you want. I may mock you if you choose something ridiculous, but that's entirely your choice. Also, I don't think that any movies have ever come out here." 
I watched his face as he spoke.
Goosebumps danced across my skin as I sat in the water. "I think I'm about to get out. The house is too cold to be in here." I said. 
He leaned forward and reached out his arms. In one smooth movement, he hauled me upward and he pulled me into his lap, making sure that my back was pressing into his chest. He leaned backwards, lifted his right thigh upward, and promptly placed me there. His other leg spread outward. His warm skin pressed into my back. I could feel the hard outline of muscles as I sat there. I squirmed.
"This isn't fair." I murmured. 
"Sure it is." 
"How do you figure?"
"I dragged you over here, fair and square." He smirked. He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned to look at the window. Rain beat down against the empty city. Clouds drifted across the sky, leaving several patches visible. 
"The stars are different here." I said. 
"Hmm?"
"The stars." I lifted my hand upward. I pointed toward the window to show him what I meant. "Pegasus is supposed to be right there. It's gone. The only one there is Andromeda."
Andromeda. The chained woman. 
The irony was not lost upon me. 
My ring was my chain; Miguel my warden. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the ring off or to truly push him away.
He pressed another kiss against my back. This time, I could feel the stubble of his jaw scrape against my skin. 
"You're warm." I murmured. He smiled against my skin. 
"I'm glad." He gently sucked on the soft piece of skin. I gasped, feeling his fangs graze for a moment. Though, by the time the sound had left my lips, he had already pulled back. 
"Sorry." He said. He inspected his handiwork on my flesh, making sure that he had not broken the skin.
I glanced over my shoulder, watching him as he slid his fingers along the skin of my back. He was enjoying getting to touch me. He could still see the novelty in how new it was.
When he shifted under me, I felt the hard shape of his erection brush the back of my thigh.
Without thinking, I glanced over my shoulder again. I leaned backward, moving until my back touched his chest. I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and soft. 
"What?" He asked. Without a word, I kissed him. He sighed against my mouth, moving slowly and carefully. As he did, I felt a familiar want beginning to stir inside of me. Slowly, I pulled away from him. I then tried to move off of his leg and was mildly surprised when he didn't try to hold me down. Instead, I lifted my hips upward and began to rearrange myself in the water, moving so that one leg sat on either side of his hips. 
I slid my legs around his waist and then pushed myself closer to him. The bottom of the cast iron tub was slick beneath us. It was hard to arrange myself in the water, but somehow I managed. Miguel leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. As he did, I lifted my hands upward and grabbed his shoulders for leverage.
“Careful, careful.” Miguel said. He placed a hand on the curve of my back to make sure that I didn’t slip in the water. 
“Aww, so you can be nice.” 
I smiled as I slid my hands across his strong shoulders. I could feel all of the muscles flex under my fingertips. A soft smirk painted his lips. God, he was gorgeous. It wasn't fair for one person to look this perfect.
But, looking at him, he looked like he was bone tired.
He leaned in for another kiss, but I bobbed backward. He already looked clean enough; I wanted to tell him to get out of the water and go to bed.
"What's wrong?" He asked. He looked hard at my face, searching for something in my features. But, before I could speak, he followed it up with another question. "Are you scared of me?" He asked. 
"What?" It caught me off guard.
"You heard me. Are you?" 
A little bit. 
"I don't think you would hurt me." I said. It wasn’t a lie.
“I would never hurt you.” His hands drifted to my face. Gently, his traced his fingers along the curve of my jaw, taking in every feature. “But, are you scared of me?” 
I knew exactly what he was referring to. The eyes, the fangs, even the sheer size of him was intimidating. But, under all of that, he was still just Miguel. Even if he wasn’t my version of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. 
“No.” I said. He offered a faint smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t believe me, but he seemed grateful that I would be willing to tell him what he wanted. 
“I love you.” He said. 
“I love you, too.” He smiled at my words. I knew that it would make him happy to hear them. They were only three little words, yet they seemed to mean everything to him. 
As I watched his face, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.
"You look tired. You didn’t sleep last night. You haven’t slept any of the other nights, either. I woke up to go to the bathroom around four and you were still awake. " I said. 
“Yes, I did sleep.”
“I saw you… Please just be honest with me.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“No, you never are.” He rolled his eyes at the accusation. “Why don’t you ever sleep?” I asked. Rain continued its assault on the roof, growing louder as the storm reached its peak.
“I usually can’t.” Thunder rolled so loud that I looked toward the window. 
“Bad dreams.” A dark tendril of hair fell across his forehead. I reached forward and gently brushed it out of the way. 
“About what?”
He shook his head before he pressed another kiss against my lips. That was his way of changing the conversation. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. His hand snaked between our naked bodies. Without hesitation, he grazed my clit with the pad of one of his fingers.
I gasped at the sudden touch. But, I didn’t move away. His index finger swirled over the bundle of nerves, forcing my toes to curl. I inched my body closer to him, begging for him not to stop. 
He rubbed faster and faster. I could feel myself getting closer to finishing. Miguel watched me with a burning intensity; his eyes were dark lust as he worked. I ground my hips against his fingers, feeling the pleasure beginning to grow in my lower stomach.
Suddenly, it overtook me. I gasped and almost fell forward from how suddenly a blinding warmth shot through me. Each touch was too much; it felt like I was on fire. Miguel caught me before I could tumble off of his body. He held me as I twitched on top of him, spasming from his gentle touches.
As I began to drift back down from the orgasm, I could feel his cock as it lay against his stomach. He was painfully hard. Every time I would bob a little too far forward in the water, I would brush into it, feeling just how desperate he was. 
“I think it’s time to call it a night.” I whispered.
“You don’t want to stay in here with me, sweetheart?” His voice was velvety and sweet; his little nickname for me was lined with lust.
“No, because I’m not on birth control. You’re going to end up knocking me up.” I said it partially as a joke. 
He didn’t laugh.
Oh.
“Miguel.”
“We have children in every universe.” He said it so softly and calmly that it was as if he was saying the sun was yellow and the sky was blue. It simply was the way of the universe; it was how things were and always would be. 
“We didn’t in mine.” I said.
“Because he died. Besides, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” My face turned bright red. There was something in the way that he said the last part that raised a suspicion I hadn't had before.
“Were you ever watching?” I asked. 
“Not from outside of the window or anything like that, but I did catch… glimpses in your timeline.”
“Miguel!”
“I was working!” He defended himself. “I never watched went out of my way to watch you two when you were… intimate. The only times that I ever spied on you were when you were alone.”
“What do you mean when I was alone?” I remembered the photos of me that I had found in the box. 
“When he was at work and I thought something would happen to you; when I was worried about you.”
He was telling the truth, at least as far as I could tell. 
“Why didn’t you ever spy on him and I?” I asked. I expected him to say that he respected me too much to do that. Then again, he treated me like a pet, so it was rather questionable how much he respected me.
“Jealousy, mostly.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve been alone for a long time, sweetheart. He had you and he was always working; he was always gone.” He said.
“You’re always gone, too.” He frowned at the statement. 
Maybe all of the versions of him truly were the same. Based on how he winced, he seemed to be considering that fact.
“He couldn’t protect you because he was never there.” He said.
“Nothing happened to me. There was nothing to protect me from.” 
“But there could have been.” He was obsessed with the idea that I was fragile. Which, I mean, compared to him, I was. But he still didn’t have to be this worried. 
He was haunted by the idea of me dying and obsessed with the idea of saving me. Maybe it was to make up for his past failures.
“I’ve lost you in countless timelines. I could never risk it.” He winced. “But, you’re here now and you’re safe. You’ll always be mine and I’ll always be yours.” He said. We belonged to each other, whenever or wherever we were. The notion both charmed and chilled me. But, one of those feelings quickly won over the other. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of the previous orgasm.
“Do you want me?” I asked. I was hoping to sound sexy; I just sounded pathetic. 
“More than anything.” 
I leaned forward and gently grabbed his cock. He groaned, lifting his hips  upward so that I could have better access. I slid my hand up and down several times before I moved my body closer to him. As I moved, he held onto me, making sure that I didn’t slip in the tub. I carefully lined him up with my entrance, feeling another wave of want wash through me. I curled one arm around his shoulder. 
“Ready?” He asked. I nodded quickly as I clung to him.
I whimpered when he slid inside. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned as he sunk all the way in. I felt my body stretch, trying to accommodate him. 
After a moment, I pushed my legs into the tub and lifted myself upward. He curled one arm around my waist, watching me in wonder and awe as I slid down again, making us both groan. 
I lifted one hand off of his shoulder. His body had been through enough tonight. I didn't want to risk the one-in-a-million chance that I grabbed onto a sore spot. I gripped the cold edge of the tub to balance myself. But, just as suddenly as I had placed it there, it was pulled off. Miguel pulled my hand into his, lacing our fingers together. 
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. I smiled, giving into his mouth. The kiss was brief; it was broken when I gasped against him mouth, feeling a warm pleasure begin to grow inside of me.
I bounced my hips, feeling him hit deep with every movement. I moaned. My stomach was beginning to tighten. 
He tightened his hold on my hand. One of his fingers brushed over the ring that I was still wearing.
I was his. I belonged to him. 
As if he could read my mind, he pressed his lips against mine again. 
When he pulled away, he said "Open your eyes."
I did as told. My eyes met his as I slid downward on his cock. Then, before my body could meet his, he thrusted upward, making me gasp.
"Keep looking at me." He said. I nodded as I lifted my hips upward. He groaned, quickly burying himself deep inside of me. He wanted to watch the way my face twitched with pleasure when he fucked me. He wanted to see what he did to me; what power he had over me.
I tightened my hold on his hand. If he was a normal man, I was sure I would have accidentally broken one of his fingers from how hard I was gripping him. 
I lifted my hips, then brought them down on him just as he slammed inside of me. We did it over and over again, forcing out gasps and moans from each other. 
“Miguel, I’m close! Don’t stop!” I moaned. I was so damn close. I could feel the tightening in my lower stomach every time he sheathed himself inside of me.
Then, all at once, I felt a wave of heat wash over me.
I gasped, clenching around him as I came undone. Pleasure coursed through my body, making my toes curl and my head fall back. Miguel pressed a kiss to the base of my throat as he hammered inside of me, not stopping his pace.
After a moment, he let out a low groan. He moaned my name and I was suddenly very aware of the warm fluid that filled me. It was leaking down my upper thighs and into the water around us.
The pleasure began to fade away. I gasped, trying to catch the breath that I had been holding. Miguel smiled and leaned back against the tub, his body tired and spent. A mixture of sweat and water glistened against his skin. 
It was around three in the morning. I could feel the exhaustion beginning to sink into my bones.
I moved to climb off of him, but just as he had last time, he held me in place. One hand held my hips in place, pinning me on top of him. I sighed, giving up any notion of fighting. It was useless; his grip was ironclad.
"Let me hold you... just for a little while." His voice was soft. His other hand drifted to the curve of my back. He pulled me forward, moving me until my chest lay against his. 
"I'm tired." I murmured. 
"I know, sweetheart."
I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could hear his heart in my ear. Its strumming was low and steady. His skin was warm. "I missed you." he said. 
I wasn't sure if he was talking to me directly, or some distant memory of me. But I would take what I could get. 
"I missed you, too." 
He pressed a gentle kiss against my damp hair. Outside, lightning cut across the sky. 
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@levisbebe @amplsblog​ @spider-biter​ @taleiak​ @ladyfairenvale​ (I tried to tag everyone who asked! I’m sorry if I missed you!)
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nmakii · 2 months
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Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3
- rose anon 🌹
AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.
— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.
— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA
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a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.
living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.
yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.
and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.
when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.
you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.
in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.
when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.
after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.
your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.
your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”
you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.
you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.
did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.
the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.
his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.
why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.
word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.
convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.
and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.
all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.
as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.
oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.
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urrockstar-xe · 1 year
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meant for each other - j.m x fem!reader
posted april 30th, 2023, 9:23 pm
pure fucking fluff this is so cutesy im sry
masterlist
wordcount: 0.9k
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“What do you see in him?” 
Sarah’s question made you laugh. What did you see in him? Please,
When you looked at JJ you saw the stars that scattered the sky the night you shared your first kiss, you saw the sunlight coming in through your curtain, shining perfectly over the boy lying fast asleep in your bed. You saw the waves crashing against you in the most comforting way possible. 
When you looked at JJ you saw your safe space, your future, and a slight fear of ever relating to “the one that got away” by Katy Perry. This is ironic considering your entire life you’ve been practically preaching words like “You’re 16 he’s not the love of your life, he’s just some boy, don’t worry, the pain will end” but now you get it because if anything were to happen you probably wouldn’t shower a lot and you’d cry so much you’d end up the most dehydrated you’ve ever been.
But as Sarah and Kie giggled beside you, you didn’t say all that. You simply responded, “What do you see in john b and fucking Topper?” 
This threw the three of you into another fit of laughter as Kiara seconded what you said and Sarah defended her taste in men. You let her, and all of her points were valid. You didn’t defend your taste because it seemed impossible for anyone to understand.
And for the most part, you were right. Your friends would watch as you laughed at a stupid joke JJ made or how fast he’d do something simply because you’re the one who asked (“jj open this beer for me?” “Yes, ma’am”), they’d watch as you scold him for the hundredth time through tears because he takes the phrase “ride or dies” far too literally for your liking. They noticed every single time that JJ sat down how he’d nod towards you as a signal to come to sit by him, and how you happily obliged every time, whether it be in his lap or on the floor in front of him. (though when this is the case he’ll have you switch places while making some dirty joke about sitting between your legs which always ends in you shoving his shoulder and him using your thigh as a pillow). They notice how gentle you act towards him whenever there's a new bruise on his cheek or cut on his lip. They notice all of it and for the last 2 years (1 year and 3 months of friendship, 8 months of something more) John B will say “They’re meant for each other,” and his two friends would nod and hum in agreement. Sarah caught on fairly fast to how you two were. The dynamic of two people who would do anything to prevent losing all they had.
The first time she fully noticed just how bad it was, happened a while back when John B was getting arrested and the cops had you all surrounded. 
She saw the look that flashed in your eyes when you saw JJ prepping his gun for whatever idiotic idea he had in mind, she saw the sirens going off in your head as he watched John B direct JJ’s plan elsewhere and give himself up. The sirens didn’t stop until all of the cop cars and boats were scattering back to where they belonged. Leaving the group of pogues without their friend. But all you could think of was the image of your boyfriend murdered in front of you by a bunch of cops. Because yeah it didn’t happen but what if it had? Sarah had seen the way you pushed JJ back just to grab fistfuls of his shirt and bring him right back to you, “what the fuck was that, JJ? Huh? If they had even seen that gun you’d be bleeding out right now, No actually you’d probably be fucking dead” Pope tried to intervene but he was quickly shut up by Kiara pulling him back to her side, silently telling him to leave you be. JJ was quiet, his eyes rapidly moving to follow the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands softly placed on your wrists to try and keep your hands from shaking more than they already had been. 
“You always say that stupid shit about having nothing to lose but I fucking do JJ and it’s you, you’re what I have to lose and if you ever do some stupid shit like that again I swear to god-” 
And at that moment, as Sarah saw you practically fall into him, sobbing into his shoulder while he held you together, she realized.
She saw what you saw, she saw everything you had, everything you needed, who happened to come in the form of a pretty and reckless teenage boy.
Now, months later, she watched as you were twirled in a circle by that very same boy. Smiling and Laughing as you danced under the tree lights at the chateau. 
“They’re meant for each other” This time it was Sarah saying it, with a soft smile on her lips. Four people agreed in hums and nods. “They've always been like that?” Cleo’s question was immediately answered by groans and laughs, “only since the beginning of time,” Pope replied, “it’s like they're in their own little disgusting world,” Kie joked.
“I think it’s sweet,” Sarah said, “me too,” John B agreed.
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mactavishenjoyer · 24 days
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Unlike Ghost Soap's family wasn't murdered. Just a series of advents. Suicide is what took his father. Alcoholism is what took his mother. She ended up passing after two years of dialysis. That's what soap remembers the most about her. That she didn't listen to anyone that tried to help her. That she was mean in those last two years. That he had felt guilty when he was just tired of taking care of her. Him and his brother ended up in foster care. Getting split up but finding each other surprisingly quickly when his brother hit 18. His brother died in a car crash a year later. 19 was too young to go but death didn't care. His brother was the only person Soap buried. He deserved to rest somewhere nice. Instead of sitting in a box shoved into some closet like their parents. Soap must have been around 27 when he had actually spread his parents ashes. It only took 15 years to do so but he did it. Something he'd never admit out loud was that he didn't care. It felt wrong but it just wasn't a big deal. The only time he remembered crying over his family was burying his brothers smashed and unrecognizable body. Soap doesn't talk about it. Not because he wants to keep it hidden but because he is tired of the train of "I'm sorry" that comes with telling people. It annoyed him. He would also never say that out loud. He'd never tell someone that it was a waisted sorry. That he truly didn't care that his parents were gone. Paired with his career people would think he was crazy. They'd think that he lacked emotions when that was far from the case. He knew his emotions well. He knew the feeling of dread that washed over him when Simon didn't finish a solo mission in the estimated time. He knew the fear that ran through him that he'll pick up a call just to hear that Kyle didn't make it. He knew the terror that coursed through his body when Price would go dark. He knew the panic that would set in when Gary would get split up from another member. He knew he loved his team. He knew this was his family. He knew that he'd be lost without them.
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bedsyandco · 4 months
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Soon you’ll get better
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❥ — ꒰ pairing ꒱ lani x quinn hughes
❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ the aftermath of the accident
❥ — ꒰ content ꒱ talks of an accident, medical injuries, death, miscarriage. incorrect medical talk and diagnosis…obviously i’m not a doctor and this is fiction!! unedited. will be edited later!!
❥ — ꒰ note ꒱ title bc I listened to the song while writing!!
Eight and a half hours later when the Hughes family arrived in Vancouver and at the hospital, Quinn was still in the same position he had been the entire night. Sat on the floor, his arms rested on his bent legs, his head rested against the wall. When he saw his family arriving he mustered the little energy he had left after not sleeping last night, to push himself up and meet them halfway across the waiting room.
“Oh Quinn,” is all his mom said as she wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him for a few minutes. Afterwards he gave his dad a long hug, no word being exchanged there because what could he say?
“Have you heard anything?” Violet asks as Quinn hugs her.
“Not really. The doctor comes out every few hours to tell me that she’s still stable and that they’re doing everything they can but… it’s been hours and…” Quinn says, tearing up again and he wipes his face frustratedly.
“You should get some sleep,” Jack suggests softly and Quinn just glares at him.
“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn responds
“Quinn we’ll wake you-”
“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn repeats and Jack nods.
Jack understood. So did Luke. He spent the 8 hour flight over there thinking about what he would do if God forbid something ever happened to Violet. He determined that Violet was gonna live way longer than him and that he’d never have to live that horrible life without her, nothing was ever allowed to happen to her. Luke wraps his arms tightly around her again, kissing her neck where he could feel her pulse and the pressure in his chest lessens a bit but it returns when he goes back to observing his older brother.
“Do you know how it happened yet?” Jim asks and Quinn nods
“She was on her way to the restaurant, a truck lost control on the road and Lani swerved to miss it, her car rolled off the road and crashed straight into a pole. Apparently she’s lucky she swerved otherwise she would have died on impact with the truck. Doesn’t feel very fucking lucky though, does it?” Quinn asks angrily and everyone flinches a little when he curses but all of them remain silent. Not quite sure what to say.
“God, if I had just…gone home and picked her up. Or cancelled the damn dinner. You know I can’t even really remember what my life was like before the past year, before her. And I can’t even imagine what it would look like without her,” Quinn says, his voice cracking at the end.
“You don’t have to imagine it. Lani’s gonna be okay Quinn. She’s gonna pull through,”Jack says, pulling his brother into a tight hug.
“I’m gonna go get us some coffee,” Blue says to Violet softly and she leaves just as the doctor appears.
“Mr. Hughes?” the doctor asks from a distance away and Quinn walks closer, so only he would hear what the doctor was saying, scanning the doctor’s face for any clues as to what he should prepare for, but the doctor’s face doesn’t give anything away.
“Is she okay?” Quinn asks desperately
“Ms. Reed is out of surgery and will be moved to recovery now. She had extensive injuries. She had multiple fractured bones in her arm, and shoulder. She also took a major blow to the head and there was some internal bleeding that we were able to stop luckily. One of her lungs was punctured-” the doctor’s words get caught off by Quinn turning towards the garbage can to vomit.
“I’m good, you can continue” Quinn rasps out as the doctor sends him a concerned look.
“The list of injuries is long Mr. Hughes but the most important thing is that she’s okay and she’ll make a full recovery. Physically at least. Unfortunately Ms. Reed suffered a miscarriage because of the physical trauma and shock her body went through because of the accident and there was nothing we could do,” the doctor says softly and Quinn stops breathing for a second.
“Miscarriage?” Quinn asks, not quite comprehending the fact that Lani was…
“Ms. Reed was pregnant prior to the accident. She wasn’t very far along…7-8 weeks potentially. It was likely that she didn’t even know yet. There was no permanent damage done and she should have no problem getting pregnant again in the future. I can be the one to tell her if you don’t feel-”
“No, I’ll do it,” Quinn immediately responds, knowing it would be better if it came from him.
“Someone will be out shortly to take you to her room. I’m very sorry for your loss,” the doctor says sympathetically before walking away again and Quinn has to lean against the wall for a second to process what he just heard. The doctor obviously assumed correctly that the baby was his since he told them him and Lani were engaged despite their very obvious missing rings.
Lani is pregnant. Was pregnant. Was.
Quinn walks back towards his family, a little dazed. His lack of sleep and shock of what happened in the past 24 hours finally caught up to him.
“She’s gonna be okay,” is all Quinn says because Lani should be the first person he tells about the baby, and maybe she doesn’t want other people to know and Quinn wanted to make sure he respected those wishes.
Everyone practically deflates with relief and his parents take a seat on the chairs, his mom letting out a few tears.
“Luke and I are gonna stop by your apartment. Get you some clothes and other things. I’ll pack Lani a bag too,” Violet says and Quinn hands her the keys to his car and his apartment. The guys had driven to the hospital with his car and ordered a ride home so Quinn still had his vehicle.
“You know where my stuff is. Lani’s things are all in the same places, just on the left. Same with the bathroom, all her stuff is in the left vanity,” Quinn says and Violet nods giving him a tight hug.
“We love you,” she says and Quinn squeezes her tight.
“Thanks for being here,” he responds
“Of course,”
They leave and when Blue comes back a few minutes later with 2 hands filled with multiple cups of coffee, Quinn feels his chest contract again. Lani loves coffee.
“We’re gonna go get everyone some food. We’ll be back but if you go see her before we return, tell Lani we love her yeah?” Jack says taking Blue’s hand in his own and Quinn nods as they make their way to the exit.
About thirty minutes later a nurse shows up and leads him to Lani’s room, and this is all Quinn’s been waiting for…a moment to lay his eyes on Lani and be sure that she’s okay. That he didn’t lose her. That they were gonna be okay.
But as he stood in the entrance of the room, he was unable to move, or speak, or breathe at the sight in front of him.
There she was. His Lani. Except she didn’t look like his Lani at all. Because his Lani was full of light, and so filled with joy she practically glowed with it. And now she was pale, battered, bruised and blue.
Quinn simply stands there for a moment observing her before he walks closer, taking the seat closest to her bedside and gently as ever, grabbing her hand and holding it against his cheek, pressing multiple kisses on her palm.
He fell asleep like that, clutching her hand tightly and resting his head against her.
A few hours later he awoke to the feeling of fingers gently running through his hair and his eyes instantly shot open.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze and he instantly teared up again.
“Lani,” he whispers, standing up and leaning over to kiss her on the temple
“We should call the nurse,” Quinn says hastily but Lani halts him with a hand on his arm.
“The nurse was already in here, just a few moments ago. She explained what happened and gave me some pain meds,” Lani says
“How long have you been awake?” Quinn asks
“For thirty minutes or so,”
“You should’ve woken me up,” Quinn says
“The nurse said you didn’t sleep at all last night, I wanted to let you rest a little longer,” Lani explains and Quinn sighs
“Come sit,” Lani says patting the spot next to her and Quinn immediately shakes his head
“No I don’t wanna hurt you,” he argues, choosing to sit at the bottom of the bed instead.
They talk for a little bit but half an hour later the troubled look on Quinn’s face still hasn’t disappeared.
“I’m okay Quinn,”
“You almost weren’t though,” he argues, his voice cracking
“But I am. And that’s all that matters. I'm here. I'm okay.” she says softly and Quinn just stares at her for a few minutes
“I should probably go give my parents an update,” Quinn says but doesn’t move.
“Your parents are here?” Lani asks surprised
“yeah, came as soon as they heard what happened. So did my brothers and Vi and Blue,” Quinn says
“oh. they didn’t need to fly all the way out here for me,”
“you almost died lani,” quinn says incredulously. finding it ridiculous that she’s even having the thought that her almost dying is an inconvenience to others.
“They can visit tomorrow if you’re up for it,” Quinn determines, seeing how tired she looks. She didn’t have to see them today. Or tomorrow. Or at all if she didn’t want to.
Him and Lani spend the next hour or so just talking, reassuring one another that she was okay and everything was gonna be fine. And then Quinn remembered that there was still something he needed to tell her. He really didn’t want to, not wanting to hurt her even more than she was already hurt.
“Lani. I need to tell you something,” Quinn starts but hesitates
“What is it?” she asks concerned, taking both his hands in hers.
“Before the accident, you were- you were pregnant. But the baby didn’t make it,” Quinn says softly and it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart when she gasps and tears up, retracting her hands and putting them on her stomach.
“No,” she whispers, and Quinn wipes her tears, nodding sadly.
“No,” she repeats again, her body shaking with her sobs and Quinn just wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.
Her sobs eventually die down, but the tears never stop, all ending up on Quinn’s shirt.
“I’m so sorry Quinn,” she apologises softly, pressing a kiss to his neck, knowing he must be hurting too.
“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. None of this is your fault, you hear me?” he asks and she nods against his shoulder.
Rationally Lani knew it wasn’t the right time to have a baby. Her and Quinn are only dating for about a year now, she was still in school, he was only now really settling in with the responsibility of being captain. But she also can’t help but be sad at the possibility of what could have been. Of what they could have had.
“We’re gonna be okay angel. The only thing that matters right now is that you’re okay. We’ll get through the rest together okay?” he asks and she nods, tears still falling as he cups her face and presses kisses all over. Kissing every tear away.
“I love you so much. More than I can even try to explain,” Quinn says, kissing her gently, and that just makes the tears fall even more.
“I love you the most,” she replies, snuggling into him more as he holds her. They would spend the rest of the day like that. And the next few days. And a lot of days after that. But they were gonna be okay, as long as they had each other.
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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months
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The Weasleys Aren't Great Parents...
I know a lot here love to talk about how the Weasleys were so good to take Harry in and all that... But the truth is, the parenting skills of Molly and Arthur Weasley are questionable at best.
I'm not saying they don't love their kids and Harry — they do, and they do so honestly. I'm just here to say they aren't actually a good example of parenting.
Like, when fans talk about the Weasleys what I usually see is either treating them like they are a perfect example of a family or unfair bashing. So, while I definitely believe that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley love their kids, this post showcases where their parenting skills are lacking...
So, the Weasleys, to Harry, seem like the perfect example of a happy, loving family. Now, I'm not saying there isn't love there, but the family dynamics we see aren't great, to put it lightly. Harry just has no reference for anything better.
Children Running Away
The first thing I want to mention here is that all Weasley children leave the Burrow and their parents the first chance they get.
Bill goes to work for Gringotts in Egypt.
Charlie goes to tame dragons in Romania.
Percy, well, Percy is a whole can of worms right there. But once his parents shun him for being more successful than his father in the ministry, he doesn't look back.
Fred and George leave Hogwarts in the middle of their seventh year and move out of home then, before their even done with school.
I don't think that's normal. This is what we see in houses where there is mistreatment of children, so they don't want to stay any moment longer than necessary. Because all of this, what all of them did, was running away from home.
Each of these Weasleys was seventeen — maybe eighteen when he chose to leave (sometimes the country). This is running away, even if they still talk to their parents, they did rub away from living under the same roof.
This already suggests to me something unhealthy is going on there.
favoritism
Any child psychologist would tell you one of the worst things a parent could do is pick favorites amongst their children. All children, favored or not, suffer from it.
And Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.... well, they showcase favoritism constantly, here is an example from Order of the Phoenix:
“Get him red and gold to match his badge,” said George, smirking. “Match his what?” said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron’s pile. “His badge,” said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. “His lovely shiny new prefect’s badge.” Fred’s words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley’s preoccupation about pajamas. “His . . . but . . . Ron, you’re not. . . ?” Ron held up his badge. Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione’s. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!” “What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.
(Order of the Pheonix, page 163)
Molly is so glad to have prefects in the family, that she actually ignores the fact Fred and George aren't prefects and are her kids. George actually calls her out on it, except she isn't actually listening to him l. No, she pushes him aside. This treatment is insane, and I don't blame them for up and leaving the moment they turned seventeen.
This favoritism is seen more, this is from Chamber of Secrets:
“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —” All three of Mrs. Weasley’s sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them. “Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —” “Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred. “YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —” It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away. “I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said. “Come in and have some breakfast.”
(Chamber of Secrets, page 38)
Prefect Percy is better than Fred and George and they should learn from him and be more like him, according to Mrs. Weasley. This sort of comparison between children is really harmful to their development and is frowned upon by most. Definitely by me.
Not to mention how Harry is definitely a favorite of hers, so much so he does not get shouted at for the same crime, but get's food. That is honestly the bare minimum she can do for him considering...
Harry's Abuse
The Weasleys are aware of Harry's abuse. They are made aware of it time and time again, and with all their love for Harry — they do nothing more than give him food when he asks. I don't think I need to explain why this is terrible.
“I don’t blame you, dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), “flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —” She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background. “It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.“They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.
(Chamber of Secrets, page 39)
George here outright tells her Harry was being starved — this goes ignored. When Harry writes to her to send him food, she sends it, but doesn't ask him why he isn't being fed:
She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help … Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadn’t touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrid’s cooking.) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies.
(Goblet of Fire, page 28)
No, she sent him food but didn't bother doing anything to help a child out of a clearly abusive situation. Not even asking why he isn't getting enough food.
Arthur Weasley isn't any better. He knows just as much as Molly and even met Harry's pleasant relatives:
“Harry said good-bye to you,” he said. “Didn’t you hear him?” “It doesn’t matter,” Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. “Honestly, I don’t care.” Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry’s shoulder. “You aren’t going to see your nephew till next summer,” he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. “Surely you’re going to say good-bye?”
(Goblet of Fire, page 48)
He acts as if the Dursleys are normal. As if a child saying their caretakers wouldn't care he wasn't there isn't cause for alarm. No, Arthur Weasley just thought it impolite and odd, but not enough to actually do something to help Harry. Just annoy Uncle Vernon.
Blaming Kids For Things Not Their Fault
“You?” she said, catching her teacup as it scampered happily away across the desk on four sturdy little willow-patterned legs and replacing it in front of her. “Why should I be worried about you?” “When Mum’s next letter finally gets through Umbridge’s screening process,” said Ron bitterly, now holding his cup up while its frail legs tried feebly to support its weight, “I’m going to be in deep trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s sent a Howler again.” “But —” “It’ll be my fault Fred and George left, you wait,” said Ron darkly. “She’ll say I should’ve stopped them leaving, I should’ve grabbed the ends of their brooms and hung on or something. . . . Yeah, it’ll be all my fault. . . .”
(Order of the Pheonix, page 679)
After Fred and George leave Hogwarts, Ron tells Hermione she should worry about him because he would suffer their mother's ire. He speaks about it as if it's a regular occurrence. Like he regularly gets blamed for Feed and George's mishaps when the twins aren't there.
This is incredibly unfair to Ron, Fred, and George. There is no reason Ron should fear his parent's response for something he had no control over.
Conclusions
As I stated above, I don't think Arthur and Molly Weasley are abusive or neglectful or that they don't love their kids. They are far from perfect, loving, and dotting parents I see them sometimes portrayed as. Neither are they as awful as I sometimes see them. Like many characters in this series, they are more complex than that.
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twinkletfout · 4 months
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——PULLING A TIKTOK PRANK ON KENTO NANAMI ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
✧—BABYDOLL ///
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— where you do a silly little prank on Nanami, jokingly asking if he wants to kiss you. He stupidly falls for it. How will he proceed after learning that all of that was a prank you pulled on him for fun? ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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Kento Nanami, your gorgeous coworker. It was too hard to resist his charms and It was obvious by the way he would get all flustered around you just with a small touch of you. The way he would adjust his specs whenever he felt shy around you and averted your gaze.
Despite being a gentleman, he was too shy to make his first move. Maybe he was taking his sweet time with you, but you were too impatient about whatever he had for you in the future.
You have seen this prank on TikTok where someone will kiss their best friend out of nowhere while a song plays in the background. You found it cute, even though you will be doing this with your handsome coworker but with a little bit of change.
Setting up your phone while you sat in the car when Nanami went out to take a quick phone call. You had to be all ready for this prank, you got nervous and excited at the same time about how he would react to your silly prank.
You started recording as soon as he was finished with his call, opened the car door, and got inside. “t’was Gojo, he is always so persistent.” He said in annoyance. “Where do you want to go?” He asked you when he turned around to see you already looking at him. He knew something was already off, you were looking at him with your siren eyes, and he adjusted his specs quickly, “What is it?” He asked, keeping his posture.
“Nanami..” you called out to him in a seductive way, which caused him to gulp, his Adam's apple bobbed as he did. “Hmm?” He hummed as he looked away for a moment and back to your eyes. A soft blush appeared on his cheek.
You liked how you had control over him. Just by the sound of your voice, how his name rolled out of your tongue could get him on his knees for you.
“Will you kiss me?” you said while batting your eyelashes at him, the doe eyes that flashed on your face made him want to force himself on you. To smear the lipstick off of you with his lips
“fuck,” he cursed lowly as he looked down at your lips, you got closer and closer to him. Biting your lips when you noticed him staring at your lips, “You serious, hm?” A soft rumble left him as he reached for you closer.
“Just kidding!” You pulled back as you laughed, throwing your head back. Laughing for a while you wiped a tear of joy from your eyes. Noticing his ears going red while he sat there frozen.
“Nanami?” You called out to him when your laughter died down. He took out his specs before he grabbed your neck in a swift motion, his big hands wrapping around your throat, bringing you closer to his lips. “Don't play with me, doll” he hissed at you before his lips crashed onto you, aggressively tasting you, marking you as him while he bit down on your lower lip. The grab tightening and tilting your head as he pleases while he kissed you all over, messing up your lipstick.
Muffled moans came out of you as he forcefully kissed you. Pulling away from you as he kissed down your neck, sucking and nibbling the sweet spot on your collarbone, leaving red spots all over you as he backed away.
Both of you were a panting mess, he put his specs back on. He smirked before saying,
“Hope you got your TikTok, sweetheart”
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ratskinsuit · 2 months
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—𝑀𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝐿𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝓁𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝐵𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔—
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“You are Vox’a personal assistiant, and recently him and Valentino had a rough fight, leaving Vox a wreck”
Tags/Warning: Dark content, Mentally unstable Vox, Unhealthy behaviors, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Mentions of unhealthy/toxic relationships,Mental breakdowns, Self harm mentions, Slight assault, Crying, Unhealthy dependency, Abandonment issues, Violence, Manipulation mentions, no use of Y/N, not x reader but can be portrayed that way, implied Valentino x Vox
A/N: I have never written full angst (nad I’m shit at comforting) so I hope that this is okay, PLEASE READ THE TAGS. And enjoy!
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You are Vox’s personal assistiant at Vox Tech. You died around 3 years ago in a fatal head-on collision car crash, your airbags had failed and it resulted in you smashing through your front windshield.
You honestly don’t know how you ended up here in hell, you thought you did pretty well in life. I mean yes you messed up a bit, but so hasent? You never did anything that you considered to be completely sinful, such as murder, rape, ect-
Even with your predicament, you knew you went just going to sit there, so you accepted your situation pretty fast. You found a simple abandoned apartment that you spruced up a bit to make it livable, and made your way by scrapping together whatever cash or opportunities you could find. After while of growing adjusted and learning the ways around hell, you decided to try getting a job. Specifically as a computer tech, as it was your job before you died, so you thought it would be a job you could do well.
And of course, the best place you though of what Vox Tech. Even though you heard of the torment that the overlords, the Vees, would put their workers through, but honestly you didn’t mind, you just needed something to live off of. Even if it was temporary, you were going to make sure not to do anything stupid.
So you applied for a position there and hoping that you got the job. But sadly they said you just weren’t quite fit for the position you were applying for, and you guess that the lady felt bad for you, because before you could leave she let you know that the overlord of the part you were applying for, Vox, was looking for a personal assistiant.
Of course you hesitated at first, but ended up accepting the job anyways, mainly because the perks and the pay were pretty great. However before you answered to accept, the hiring personnel said that the last personal assistiant was no longer working here is because they got in the way of Vox after him and Valentino had a fight. Yet, you chose to ignore that fact, planning on this being a temporary job.
So, you started working for him. At first, he treated you like actual shit. He would order you around like a dog, yelling at you anytime you messed up, and even if you didn’t, he would find a reason. He acted as if you weren’t even a human being. Your suprised he didn’t kill hou.
After a while, you grew used to it, somehow keeping yourself from getting killed by learning the boundaries. Making sure to do what he says and keeping away as much as you can.
However one day, you heard that Valentino and Vox had a particularly bad fight. Still, you had to go to work and serve him, so you had headed to his office. When you got there though, you found him sobbing and curled up on the floor in a ball, trembling.
Of course when he saw you he screamed at you to get out, but even though danger was staring at straight at your face, you were a naturally empathetic person.
So you went over to him and asked him what was wrong, and at first he threatened and yelled and screamed at you. But when he found you weren’t leaving, he just broke down.
You spent the next couple hours listening as he rants attentively, and soothing him. After that you two grew closer, still within a boss and worker status, but closer as friends.
You learned all the ways to help him through his breakdowns and comfort him. He would often confide in you and you would listen, making him feel better.
The fights between him and his boyfriend never stopped but you made it much better. He eventually stopped fighting and just let you hold him.
However recently, they had the worst fight they ever have had before. And it ended with Valentino leaving. At first it seemed like Val throwing his normal fist, but he didn’t show after a week, or another, or another. After 3 weeks he showed up but would completely ignore vox, and this honestly broke him.
From what you could tell he’s been burrowing himself in his work, and has been completely emotionless to cope recently, and taht scared you. Because you know that sometime soon, he would break and it would all come crashing down.
So your currrently one your way to his office with a plate of snacks, icecream, and some tea. You heard from your coworkers he hasent been out of his office all day, so your wondering if he finally cracked.
You reach the end of the hallway, landing you infront of Vox’s door. You hesitate, wondering if it was better to know and say something to alert him of your presence, or to just open the door and then have him realize it’s you right away.
After a moment of pondering, you decide it’s easier to go with the latter. Grasping the handle, you turn it and push the door open, making a whooshing sound.
Once open, you take a step in and open your mouth to speak. But before you could, Vox snaps his head to the door, giving a death glare.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, just coming in wit-“ His anger dies down as he recognizes you, and his tense form relaxes a bit.
“Shit, sorry didn’t uh.. realize it was you.,” He mourners, rubbing the back of his neck out of habit. He glances away, resting his hands back his desk, before looking back at you.
You give him a small smile, and glance around the room, a bit suprised at the state of him and his surroundings. His face looks tired and a bit glitchy, small colorful pixels appearing and disappearing on the edge of his screen. His head has some wires sticking out of tear sun places. Other parts are dented and scraped, from what you assume was him banging his head against the seat and scratching at himself.
His jacket is laying on the floor a couple feet away from where he is seated. His bow tie seated next to the dozens of coffee cups that litter his desk. His clothes are wrinkled and messed up. His shirt halfway done and seemily hastily put on.
There is trash all around his desk, strewn about. His trash can is full, papers filling it to the brim. Random wires are hung all around the room, hanging from the ceiling and the floor, some torn and other fully put together. All around his chair and his desk is glass. Broken pieces everywhere, but Vox doesn’t seem to care, as he’s gone back to looking at his cameras.
The most disturbing part being his monitors. All but three are broken. They seem to have been broken by having things thrown at them. You assume he threw the lights, as there are random stage lights on the floor and on his desk with the broken glass. Well at least you know where the glass came from.
On the remaining cameras are three scenes. Alastor’s radio tower, the entrance to the building, and Valentinos room.
Vox stares at the cameras, unblinking and staring up like it’s hypnotizing him, like he’s unable to look away. Not even seeming to notice, or care about you being there. Just stuck, his eyes glued to the screens in-front of him.
You hesitate, taking a deep breath, and then you slowly walk over to where Vox is at his desk, he doesn’t seem to realize or care that your coming over to him until you reach him, and begin to speak .
“Vox.. is everything okay?..” you ask softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and he flinches, glancing at you.
“Yes of course I’m fucking fine, just peachy terrific even.” He says with a glare. “Why would you think otherwise?” He says turning away from you back to the screen, obviously trying to hide it.
You take a deep breath, “You just seem to be a bit ..strung up right now, is…” You hesitate, not wanting to anger him or get him more stressed then he already is. But you don’t want him to stay in this cycle of depression that he gets into occasionally.
It usually is triggered when him and Val would have fights. The would scream at eachother, saying nasty things and throwing random items at eachother. And would usually only end once one of them left, which was almost always Valentino.
For the first hour after the fight, Vox would seem fine. Just a bit more angry and pissy, getting riled up over teh smallest of things. Whether it be someone messing up on some paperwork or their job, pe an employee simply tripping. But during those periods it’s best for the workers to avoid him. You, however, just stay by his side the entire time, waiting for it to all come crashing down.
After a while he would just fall. Once alone he would just start crying, and crying, and crying. You would hold him and comfort him, as he rocked and sobbed in your arms. He would go through stages of being completely silent and unmoving, not wanting to talk, sitting with a blank look on his face. To crying and screaming, calling Valentino over and over again apologizing. To anger, yelling and shouting at anybody that moves, leaving angry voicemails into Val’s inbox.
Of course, you would stay with him the entire time. He may yell, scream, or even try to hurt or threaten you at times. But you knew he coudlent help it, he was in an unstable mindset. So the entire time you would try to comfort him.
So not wanting to throw him into that phase at the moment, you chose your next words carefully. “How are you dealing with… Valentino leaving..? Is everything okay, anything you need? I can get you, or do to he- you begin, but are cut off by Vox snapping his neck to you.
He just stares at you for a moment, maintaining eye contact. The two of you staring at eachother in silence, neither of you breaking eye contact in this silent staring contest.
Suddenly, he breaks out into laughter. He puts a hand against his face, chest bubbling with loud laughter. And not normal laughter, this was hysterical, full of instability. His eyes wide and blown out.
It echos in the room, bouncing against the walls as his chest heaves, while he continues laughing loudly. You stand there, frozen in shock from his sudden outburst. Your going to be honestly, it kind of freaked you out.
After a couple of minutes, he swipes his fingers under his eyes as to wipe away tears. His manic laughter now slowed down to giggles, as he breathed heavily, a wide grin of his face. “I-of course I’m fine, haha… why wouldn’t I be!? I’m perrrfectly okay, heh heh…” He says, his grin widening as you stand there in-front of him unmoving.
“I’m fineeeee, I don’t know what the FUCK your talking about, I’m okay, why? Do I not seem okay!?” He begins, his tone slowly beginning to become more on edge. “Why!? Do you think one thing is fucking wrong with me..!? Why the hell would you think something is wrong with me.!?” He says, beginning to raise his voice as he pushes his chair away from the cameras and stands up suddenly, palms to the desk.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, I just mean that … you tend to get a bit…. Upset when you and Val-“ You try to start, but he interrupts you, anger forming on his face.
“IM NOT UPSET. if- if anything, I’m glad that he’s gone, for once I can actually focus on my work without that dick sucking bitch in my face all the time.” he hisses, starting to stalk over to you, a predatory glint in his eyes, full of malice and anger.
You talk a couple steps back as he starts to get closer. “Why are you backing up? What!? Are you fucking scared??!” He growls lowly, and before you can respond, you blink and he’s in front of you, towering over your form, and you gasp in surprise, not expecting that, stumbling back a bit.
“Why are you scared? Haha, I’m not going to hurt you.” He snickers, looking you up and down. “but Maybe. Maybe I will, havent decided yet “He says, clicking his tongue and tilting his head.
“V…vox you don’t seem to be in the right state of mind right now… why don’t we just sit down and-“ before you finish your slammed into the wall, knocking the breath out of you. Once your burry vision clears you see Vox above you, teeth bared, eyes glaring holes into you as he has you pinned to the wall.
“I.am.fine.!” he says, punctuating each word by pulling you to him and pushing you back into the wall with each word hissed out at you with venom. And you try to prevent your head from bashing against the wall.
You look down fro a moment once he stops, and he suddenly grabs your chin with his fingers, claws digging into your cheeks, drawing blood, and he turns your face to look at him. His eyes blazing into yours. “Don’t you dare fucking look away from me, I’m speaking to you, fucking LOOk AT ME..” He yells, blood getting onto his claws from the gash on your cheek, further smearing it.
You stare at him in terror, realizing that Val really fucked him up. He giggles at the fear in your eyes, smirking. “Awe, are you scar-scared? Hm? That’s fucking hilarious hehe…” he giggles maniacally, eyes wises and blown out as he looks at you.
He stroked your cheek with his thumb as he doesn’t break eye contact. “What to do to you… hm..” he looks at you with hysteria Im his eyes, he’s trembling slightly.
“I could, gut you…” He says, scratching your face with his index finger, leaving a bleeding gash on your face and you gasp, earning you a chuckle. “Hang your intestines alllll across the door like a fucking birthday bash.” He says, grin somehow stretching wider.
“No no, that would kill you ro quick, how about a boy of waterboardung before that? Ha?” He snickers, “oh maybe I could choke you? Or or or, you know what would be fun? Shoving firecrackers down your throat and lighting them.” He says, smiling with sadistic glee as you stare in horror.
If course whenever he goes into these stages, he sometimes threatens to hurt you, but never this gruesome, and honestly, your wondering if coming here this early was a good idea.
“Oh so many posibilityyysss,..!” He sings, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you against him, your arms uncomfortably pushed against his chest. And he leans into your neck whispers into your ear.
“Soo many options…” he hums, giggling lowly as he burys his face into the crook of your neck, soft giggling can be heard from him. You stand there as he mutters to himself, keeping you in his embrace as your terrified of why he will do to you.
After a minute his giggling ceases and you can’t her him murmuring anymore but he’s not letting you go.
You hope that maybe he’s calmed down a bit and you can get him to sit down, but before you can open your mouth you begin to hear soft sniffles coming from him.
You feel wetness begin to run down your shoulder, and it becomes apparent that he’s stated crying. You crane your neck to look at his face, seeing his eyes clenched shut as eas fall from his cheeks.
You sigh, knowing you can’t do anything at the moment to get him out of this state without further digging him deeper.
So instead you go for the safer option as your boss sobs into your neck. You rub soothing circles into his back and shush him as he grips onto you tightly as if your going to lean e him. “Hey hey… your okay.. sh… that’s it let it out..” you sooth and he cries harder.
He begins to let his body go limp, the two on your sliding onto the floor. His sitting inbetween your legs, face still burried into the crook of your neck as you embrace him comfortingly.
“wh-at-zz wrong- mi- with me..” he cries, rocking back in forth in your arms and you just let him, trying to support his weight while not getting crushed.
You slowly push his face away from your shoulder, him looking absolutely wrecked. Tears somehow coming through the screen and dripping down his face. A look of desperation on his features as he scans your face. “Shh… nothing is wrong with you, your just overwealmed that’s all..” you say, putting your hand out and he rests his head in it, sniffling.
“…r-e-eally…?” He asks and you nod, patting his back. You hear him let out shakes breaths as he clings to you, head burried in your neck while you comfort him.
“Don’t worry… I’m not going to leave you..” you say, and he seems to relax a bit more at that statement.
After a couple minutes of sitting like that, him resting against you as you soothe him. You notice he has seemed to calm down a bit, no longer trembling and his beating has evened out. But his fans are still going haywire, trying to cool him down. And his body is overheating h excessively.
So you wait a minute and decide you are going to get him some icepacks and a fan to help him cool off.
So you carefully push him off, and he gives you a confused look. His eyes widening in fear as you stand up. And he goes to acramble afte him but you just motion for him to sit back down. “Don’t worry, I’m just going to get you a fan and some ice packs, your overheating and we need to get your temperature down.” You say.
You turn around, starting to head to the door. And you assume that he is okay with it, because your almost at the door and you hadn’t heard any footsteps.
As you go to step out you are suddenly tackled to the ground, knocking the wind out of you. Your flipped over to see Vox straddling you, teeth bared and eyes widened in anger.
“Why the FUCK are you trying to leave me!?”
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A/N: Sorry I’ve been dead 🙃 I have no motivation, and I have been very busy recently. I have like 25 requests to do so I will start working on those soon, but try not to be be too expectant. Also this was kind of just something I thought of randomly, this is just Pt. 1 I have plans for what happens after but idk if i should do a pt 2., what do you all think? Also this has so many grammar and spelling misstated because I just wanted to get it out soon, so I will be coming back later to fix them.
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virginsexgod69 · 4 months
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❝Here for You❞
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paring: Rick Grimes x f!Reader
summary: After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs.
Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death
word count: 1,569
content warnings: NSFW // smut // angst // hurt no comfort // pining
cross posted on ao3!
You've always had a thing for Rick. Ever since he arrived at the camp in Atlanta, you had your eye on him.
But he was married.
You weren't a home-wrecker. You wouldn't dare intrude on the happy relationship of a man who was reunited with his family he thought was dead. But that didn't stop you from stealing glances. Sometimes you swore you could feel his blue eyes staring at you too. At some point, those stolen glances turned into the two of you looking longingly at each other. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same about you?
But be was married.
The longing looks weren't the only thing setting your heart ablaze. It was the way Rick would place his hands on your hips whenever he needed to get by. The way his touch would linger. Not only that, but he was so protective of you, but never controlling . He even took the time to teach you how to properly use a gun. And he always, always made sure you had something to eat, even if it meant less for him. He had to have liked you just a little bit, right?
But be was married.
You knew for sure you'd never have a shot with Rick after you found out Lori was pregnant. Even if nobody could be sure the baby's his, he still stuck by her and who were you to get between that.
But still, that did nothing to stop the fleeting moments between the two of you. In fact, they seemed to happen even more. Maybe he indulged in his desires a bit to soothe his aching heart from the pain of not really knowing if his unborn baby was his. Despite all of this, you fought hope. You wanted him so so bad, but you knew there wasn't a chance in hell it would happen.
Because he was married.
But then he wasn't. Shit hit the fan: the farm was overrun by walkers, Sophia turned, Shane was killed, Andrea never came back, a prison became a home, a baby was born... oh , and Lori died.
It's not like that made you happy. You were sad that she didn't get to say goodbye, that she didn't get time with her newborn, that Rick lost his wife. It took a toll on him. He wasn't the same. He was crazy even. Everyone was on edge around him, constantly walking eggshells as to not set him off. There was just so much tension.
And the tension felt even more uncomfortable as the two of you made your way back to the prison after an unsuccessful run. The tension practically filled the little green car with all the words left unsaid, questions left unasked, feelings left unknown. So, you decided to speak to him for the first time in months.
"Are you okay?" you asked timidly.
His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
" 'M fine," he mumbled not taking his eyes off the road.
That was a damn lie and you both knew it.
"Rick," you said softly, "we're alone now. If you want to talk abou-"
"I said I'm fine!"
He may not have wanted to talk, but you could tell he needed to be comforted and you wanted to be the one to offer him that comfort, no matter how he wanted it. No matter how he needed it.
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, much like how he used to do to you before everything happened.
He sighed with relent before pulling the car over and putting it in park. He placed his hand on top of yours and looked over at you. You fought not to get lost in the sea of his blue eyes as you stared back at him.
"I'm.. I'll be fine, I promise."
You leaned closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch.
"Y'know I'm here to comfort you, right? In any way you need me, I'm here," you promised.
His baby blue eyes drifted from yours down to your lips. His whole demeanor changed. He relaxed for the first time in a while. So much so, he let his inhibitions go as he pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours.
So many feelings rushed through your head the second your lips made contact. You were shocked. You dreamed and fantasized about this moment forever and now that it was finally happening, you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers. You reciprocated the kiss, indulging in every second before Rick hastily pulled away.
"I'm so sorry," he said between gentle pants "I shouldn't have done that."
Your heart sank. You resented that he regretted your happiest moment.
"Rick," you said with your forehead still against his, "I want this. I want you ." You didn't care how desperate you sounded. Once you got a taste of Rick, you needed more.
And perhaps he felt the same about you because he didn't hesitate to pull you back in for another kiss. Trying your best not to break the kiss, you climbed from the passenger seat onto his lap. His tongue found its way into your mouth and tasted you as if he'd never get another taste. You moaned against his mouth as you tangled your hands in his curly hair. His hands traversed your body before practically tearing off the button up shirt you wore.
"You sure you want this?" he asked. His blue eyes, glistening in the sunlight, looked at you with uncertainty. You could tell he wanted this, but even more so he didn't want to hurt you.
You responded by grinding against his hardening bulge as you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. His hands firmly gripped your hips as ground you onto his clothed erection. He pulled away from your mouth and placed open mouthed kisses down your neck. You didn't miss the occasional grunts you coaxed out of him which only encouraged you to keep going. He reached up and unclasped your bra, slid it off your arms, and tossed it aside. Embarrassed by the exposure, you automatically moved to cover yourself, but Rick caught your wrists.
"Don't. Let me see you. You're so beautiful," he rasped.
Oh Rick. He was even sweeter than you anticipated which set you ablaze and drove the butterflies in your tummy crazy. You needed him. You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.
"I-I need you," you wantonly moaned.
" 'M all yours."
You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times before moving to pull off your own pants. Rick helped you get out of them, stopping for a second to admire the wetness accumulated in your panties. He pulled them aside and lined his dick with your entrance, letting you slowly sink down on it. He stretched you so good that the pain only added to your pleasure.
"I've fantasized about you since you arrived at the camp in Atlanta," you confessed.
"I can't say I haven't wanted you this way for a while too. Whenever I caught you staring at me with those doe eyes, my imagination ran wild."
Once you felt comfortable enough, you began to move. You held onto his shoulders for support as you bounced on his dick. He threw his head back as he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. He couldn't take it anymore and held onto your hips again as he thrusted up into you. He watched you with admiration in his eyes as your breasts bounced with each and every one of his thrusts.
"You feel so good around my cock, princess."
"Oh god Rick, I think I'm gonna-"
You didn't get to finish your sentence since he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down for another kiss. Your walls clenched around him as his thrusts grew sloppy. You were both about to cum.
"That's it, cum for me Lori."
You both froze. The butterflies in your tummy were stabbed to death by the shards of your broken heart. You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to hold back the hot tears burning the corners of your eyes. Rick looked at you brokenheartedly with shame swimming in his eyes as you pulled yourself off of him.
"Lor- er, Y/N, I'm sor-"
"Don't."
God you sounded so... broken .
You both dressed yourselves in awkward silence. Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He sounded like he wanted to say something, but decided against it, which was good because you'd have ignored him anyway.
"The sun's setting, we should get back to the prison," you said cooly.
"Y/N, I-"
"Just stop!"
A beat of silence passed and Rick finally started up the car and resumed the drive back to the prison.
You let your tears fall silently as you stared out the window, but you eventually closed your eyes. Your stomach churned at the sight of his wedding band's reflection in the window, signifying that even though his wife was dead, he was still married.
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bored-trans-lesbian · 27 days
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Kipperlily just kinda sucks now.
Spoilers for Fantasy High Junior Year, as of episode 16.
I, personally, have not been on the *hate kipperlily* train. I've been looking forward to her pretty much since we met her, a passive-aggressively busybody, a mean girl Riz. Is she evil? Is she just nasty? Will she eventually team up with the bad kids? Ect. And I'd like to say that now I just kinda don't care anymore, she's just... She's not fun to speculate about anymore. I have some info I think people aren't considering, so please read, and I'm also not complaining about the *writing* or Brennan's choices. This is a perfectly logical reveal, doesn't contrast anything, and I'm still excited to see the season unfold. But in terms of kipperlily lore I'm good, she's not potential anymore, she's just kinda shitty. Sorry she's a rage rez now, hope she gets better but kinda fuck her in general now.
Let me be clear, for all those *wildly* speculating about her motivations or making her into something she's not: she is just plain, jealous, full stop, when it comes to tragedy. She is not attuned to larger magical events, she does not have a point, she is fucking *wrong.* Why is she wrong? Consider the main thing she's upset about; that Riz has an adventure advantage because his dad was eaten by Kalvaxis, so he's motivated to adventure more than a normal person.
Let me remind 'yall real quick Riz *did not know* this had happened. Riz, thought his dad was just as relatively 'normal' as kipperlily's. He found out his dad was an agent *halfway through the year* and died in the service, and found out it was *Kalvaxis* that killed him, let me fucking remind you, in the finale from the dragon himself. Kipperlily, has known this for most of freshman year and hated Riz for it. This means she dug up *extremely traumatic* information on a fellow student and proceeded to project her insecurities on him, seeing him as having an advantage in life, while that kid *did not know* any of this and thought his dad, I don't know, died in a car crash or something.
She's wrong from the jump. She digs into people's personal shit for her own *satisfaction*, makes sweeping assumptions about people she doesn't even bother to talk to, and rails against the system for not being fair and rewarding her for *not* experiencing a tragedy. Love Brennan, love this story, fuck kipperlily. She is *not* a sympathetic suffering queen she has toxic insecurities and of all people *Jawbone* has been ineffective at clocking and addressing this problem. I'm all for people who need help getting it but it doesn't make her any less of a creep.
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The Babysitter (33)
Talk To Me
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MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+
Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.
The Babysitter Master list | General Master List
Chapter 33- W/c 4k
Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @aliherreraaa @aru-son @the-ox-fan20
Talk To Me
If Wanda had to describe your current state in one word it would have to be irritated. She watched with furrowed brows as you remained silent in the car as well as in the hospital, not uttering a word for most of the day, simply letting the older woman's fingers play with yours whenever she wanted, your body language screaming your annoyance with something. Wanda's concern only grew when you shut the car door with a little more force than necessary, sighing in defeat as you trudged up her parent's drive to retreat back to the house after another day of waiting in the hospital for any more news on Natalya's recovery, the doctor's tests taking a while for the results to come in. She followed you into the house, nothing but worry entering her mind as you went straight upstairs, muttering that you were going to go for a shower, not even waiting for the older woman's reply before grabbing some clothes and shutting the door.
While Wanda brewed in anxiety your mind drowned in irritation and annoyance mixed along with sadness and grief, your mind unable to stop the negative thoughts that flickered through your mind. You were angry. Angry at the world, yourself, just fucking everything. The day started off as amazing as it could, yourself and Wanda getting ready to spend the day in the hospital but as the day dragged on, your apprehension of being in the hospital grew bit by bit, eventually gnawing away at your mind and causing you to take a small walk which only made things worse.
You didn't know it was possible to feel the pain you did when you stumbled across another emergency room, a family rushing in with distress written across their faces as doctors ushered a man on a stretcher through, the words 'car crash' and 'drunk driver' triggering a wave of emotions to wash through you as the only thing you could think about was your dad. All you could possibly think about was the fact that he died alone, how you weren't there to see him go, how you were too late. He was gone and you didn't get to say goodbye.
The words your mother screamed at you in the hospital rang around your head as you slowly made your way back to Natalya's room, plastering a fake smile on your face as you sat in silence for the rest of the day, losing the battle to your depressing thoughts as you simmered in despondency and agitation. You hated the fact that all you could think about was how you never got to do this, how you never got to sit with your dad, waiting for the doctors to come back with results saying he was alright to leave soon but it never happened. These thoughts then caused you to become annoyed with yourself, almost ashamed at where your thoughts went because you were here for Natalya and Wanda, not yourself. You were making this all about you and being selfish but you couldn't help it.
 The discomfort of being in a hospital eventually reached its tipping point and the early accident with the stranger just seemed to cause all of these emotions to pile onto you at once, along with the guilt and shame of becoming a problem for Wanda, your mind berating you for making her worry about something else when her mother was clearly stressing her out still.
Your head lolled against the tiled wall in the shower as your mind was relentless with these pestering doubts and concerns, the emotions overwhelming as you just tried to keep it together for Wanda's sake, able to hear her faint footsteps outside the door, the way she seemed to pace a little before retreating away from the door. A tired sigh left you as you turned the shower off, quickly getting changed into some pyjamas as it was rather late, eventually opening the bathroom door to see Wanda laying on the bed, smiling fondly at her phone as Natasha had called her with the twins to say goodnight.
Her green softened at the sight of you, brows furrowing a little as she could practically see the conflicted emotions clouding around you, her telling the boys that you were still in the bathroom and unable to say goodnight before chatting a little more, letting you quietly wander around the room for what you needed until she hung up, her attention completely focussed on you now.
"Detka?" she softly calls, watching as you continue to distract yourself a little, confusion flowing through her as you had been perfectly alright the last few days. "Come to bed, it's late," the older woman suggests, her green fixated on yours as you hesitate on her words, eventually giving in and climbing into the bed, your body naturally gravitating towards hers, just not as close as normal. "What's wrong?" she whispers, letting her hand slide over your abdomen as you laid on your back in the small bed next to her, your eyes not meeting hers as you stared up at the ceiling.
"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," you whisper, trying your best to make your voice sound convincing but Wanda knew you, something was clearly wrong.
"Detka-"
"Can we just go to sleep?" You interrupt, clearly not wanting to talk, sighing a little as your eyes flutter close, Wanda's hand stilling against you as her head tilts to look at you properly.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," you can hear the concern in her voice but it only makes you feel more ashamed of your behaviour, especially after having promised Natalya that you'd always care for her as you were now the reason for her worry. Her hand gently cupped your cheek, turning your head to meet her enticing green, her eyes searching yours for some sort of answer as you just lose yourself in hers, another sigh escaping you.
"Nothing," you say, Wanda's brows furrowing at the tone of your voice, not appreciating the exasperated sigh that followed your word, unaware that you were more angry with yourself than the woman's attempts of comforting you.
"Don't use that tone with me," she warns and you mirror her actions, brows furrowing at the sudden switch in her tone before it changes back to a more gentle tone, "And don't lie to me. Talk to me." The back of her fingers brush against your cheek, the actions so tender and caring you could feel tears prick in your eyes as she didn't deserve to be the punching bag for all your bottled up emotions, your hands lifting to cover your face.
"I'm sorry," you whisper and Wanda can hear the genuine pain and apologetic tone behind your words, "I- I did't want you to worry, I didn't, I just..." you trail off with your words, trying to form a sentence that would actually make sense, "You have enough to worry about, I don't want to add to that." Wanda's hands gently pull yours away from your face, moving hers to cradle your face as you gaze into the green you love so much, guilt having replaced the irritation she saw early.
"Detka," she coos as you hate how she's having to take care of you once again when you were supposed to be the one taking care of her right now. "I told you, you'll never be a burden to me, never," her voice emphasises her words, "Tell me what's wrong." You move your body to lay on your side, facing her as she mirrors your position, being patient with you as you figure out what you want to say.
All you can think about is how perfect she is to you, how she deserves the world and everything more, the reminder of the ring sparking something within you as Natalya clearly thinks you can give her that, encouraging you to get your act together for her.
"I hate the hospital," you whisper a little vaguely, her features softening as a tear falls from your eyes, her mind quickly remembering that moment when you waited outside of the room when the doctors informed her about her mother, the uneasy look in your eyes as you stared back at her before it flickered to a gentle gaze. "I can't stop thinking about my dad and... And how I didn't get to see him wake up," you confess, squeezing your eyes shut, Wanda's hands returning to cup your cheek and gently caress the skin there. "I just wanted to be there for you, but I'm making this about me when it shouldn't be-" A finger against your lips silences you, Wanda's expression almost in disbelief at what you were saying.
"Detka, you're feelings are always valid, just because I need you doesn't mean you can't need me too," she whispers, saddened by the fact you must have been hurt at the constant reminder of your father, her words aiming to comfort you as well as her, reassuring the both of you that you were always going to be there for one another. "I'll always be there for you, just as you're always there for me," her tone a soft murmur while you process the deeper meaning to her words, leaning up slowly to connect your lips intimately, conveying your love for her in the tender display of affection.
"I'm sorry for being so distant," you whisper against her lips after a brief period of silence, speaking once again as you could tell she was about to protest, "I just..."
"I know Detka," she whispers back, claiming your lips softly once more, "Just promise me you won't bottle everything up again, talk to me if something's bothering you."
"I promise," you sigh out, moving to hide your face at the crook of her neck, basking in the warmth and security there as the days whirlwind of emotions and stress gradually fades away, the older woman's presence soothing you. Her hands glide up and down your back, her body relaxing once she knew you felt lighter after getting your worries off of your chest, her fingers moving to scratch your scalp softly as your body snuggled further against her.
"I love you," your tone is barely above a whisper as you remind the woman of your feelings, that soft smile you adored tugging at her lips as her eyes fluttered close.
"I love you too Detka, I always will."
***
Stretching your body after the car ride, your back cracked in a satisfying manner as you looked over at your home, a sense of relief filling you at being back after the few days spent away at the hospital, your mind replaying the day as Wanda grabbed her stuff.
Wanda had assured you that you didn't need to come with her this morning to the hospital, especially after last night but you told her that you wanted to, feeling like you two had somehow gotten even closer after that conversation, but in retrospect the conversation seemed futile as you weren't there for long anyway.
The doctors reports came in the morning and declared Natalya fit enough to return home with appropriate measures taking place, the older woman ushering you and her daughter to go back home to the twins, not wanting any more fuss as she had grown fed up of having everyone faff about with her. You two couldn't even get in a word to protest before the older woman simply tilted her head at the two of you, her glare unwavering and signalling her adamance on you two returning home, leaving you no choice but to listen to her.
Soon enough, you were parked in the drive of the house, the sounds of children playing in the garden piquing both of your interests.
"Do you think Melina has killed anyone yet?" you chuckle out, Wanda's head snapping over to you at your words, not as aware of the dynamic between the Romanoff's as you were, "I mean, I uh," you stammer out, her sighing out in relief once she picked up on the fact your words were an attempt at humour, her lips stretching into a small smile as she shook her head gently at you in amusement, motioning for you to follow her back home.
Unlocking the door, Wanda looked ahead and noticed the older woman she knew sitting on the sofa reading, her lips tugging into a relieved smile at the arrival of you two. You watched as the two engaged in a brief hug, Melina stealing Wanda away as your girlfriend told you to check on the boys and relieve your friends of their babysitting duties.
You found it ironic how you were once the boys' babysitter and now you were the one who was coming home to them, but you didn't say anything as you simply made your way outside, searching for the four bundles of chaos.
"Y/n!" The twins cheered, running over to hug you until they were stopped as Natasha crashed into your arms first, hugging you in relief as you were finally home.
"Never leave me with all three of them again," she pleaded, your smile widening as you wrapped your arms around your best friend in gratitude, truly unable to think of a way to thank her for what she had done for you.
"I won't," you chuckled out as two smaller bodies joined in on the hug, "I can't make any promises about Yelena though, she is your sister," you teased, the redhead rolling her eyes at your remark as her sister walked over with Fanny, the dog sitting by your side and staring up at you with her big brown eyes and tongue hanging out of her mouth, the sight adorable.
After another squeeze from Nat, you all eventually parted from the hug, the twins wanting their own separate ones, your hand ruffling Tommy's hair while your fingers gently fixed Billy's, both of them smiling at the endearing actions.
You didn't notice how Wanda watched from the backdoor with Melina, her heart melting in her chest at the sight of you with the boys, a warmth replacing the slight dread that was there, her legs taking her over to where you were to join you.
"Mom!" the boys both greet in elated tones, hugging her tightly, your face softening at the sight of the twins welcoming their mother before your eyes flicker up to look at Wanda's face, noticing the slight indecipherable glint in her eyes, your brows briefly furrowing. Tommy soon grabs your hand and drags you into the hug, making you and their mother laugh softly as they hug you both as tight as possible.
You can hear the teasing remarks from Yelena and Nat but Melina quickly shuts them up, your lips pulling up into a smirk at their sudden quietness, Natasha unable to stop the chuckle escaping her at your grin when you part from the family hug, leaving Wanda to have a moment with her children.
Natasha tells you all about the last couple days with the twins, informing you of how much of a bad influence Yelena was and how she kept causing mischief with Tommy. Billy was his usual shy self and you laughed a little at how he seemed to still be intimidated by Melina, his little body timid as he moved past her towards you again, instantly melting into your body for another hug as you propped your head on his from the seat you were in, letting him stay with you as Natasha continued to tell you all about the activities they did. You couldn't get rid of the smile that was etched onto your face as Billy took over from the redhead, telling you his experience of the film they watched, your tone humouring him as he recalled the dramatic events.
While listening to the boy in your arms, you grew increasingly aware of the lack of his brother's presence, your head lifting off his to search for Tommy until a scream escapes you when he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and shouting 'boo'. His laughter was so contagious, you all ended up chuckling in the garden at your reaction, the older women who returned from inside looking baffled at the sight of all of you giggling together.
A smile naturally took over their faces as they walked over to you, your fingers wiping away the tears of laughter that had escaped you, your gaze focussing on Wanda as she approached you. To say you were in awe of her was an understatement, you were utterly amazed by her beauty every time you saw her, your look conveying your admiration of the woman as she sat with you, wrapping her arm around your waist as she listened to her boys attempt to tell her why everyone was laughing, the two of them breaking into laughter every time.
Wanda's smile only grew at her children's constant laughter, your gaze unable to break away from her smile as she simply savoured the moment, her lips briefly pressing against your forehead in an affectionate manner.
Time seemed to pass by effortlessly as you all sat out in the garden chairs, Melina and her daughters deciding to tell as many embarrassing stories about you as possible, your eyes flickering over from the redhead you were glaring at to Wanda, noticing how she seemed to be a little distant, her smile still present though as she laughed along with what was being said, her gradual shift in mood being noticed by you.
As the sun started to set, casting a gentle warm glow in the garden, the Romanoff's decided it was time to leave, Fanny a little reluctant as the twins were giving her as many cuddles as possible, Melina telling her daughters to get their stuff to let the twins play with their new friend a little longer.
"Thank you," you whisper to Natasha as you follow her in to grab the stuff she had brought, Yelena also with the two of you, "Both of you, it honestly means so much to me." Your tone is honest and sincere, the sisters smiling at your gentle tone, both of them noticing the grateful glint in your eyes.
You were surprised when Yelena came over and hugged you, your arms wrapping around her as she let you embrace her, Natasha watching with a fond smile.
"You're welcome," the blonde whispers in a soft tone before her words turn more teasing, never having enjoyed serious conversations or tones, "Aunty Yelena is their new favourite person so it's ok." You can't help but chuckle at her words, shaking your head as you just know she's milked that nickname, having used it at any opportunity.
"You better not be stealing my spot as number one," you warn, making them both laugh as you help collect the last of their things.
"I've already stolen it," she snickers back, you staring at the blonde, trying to hide your smile.
"Cyka," you mutter in their native language, her sticking her tongue out at you before Natasha mutters something else in Russian to her, most likely teasing you further judging by the look on Yelena's face. Rolling your eyes, you throw Nat's bag to her, making her catch it before following you back down the stairs where their mother was waiting for them, ready to go back home.
***
After the Romanoffs had left, Wanda wanted a nice family night together, cuddling up with both of the twins on the sofa as you watched a random film, the woman's smile not quite reaching her ears, before eating junk food for dinner as neither of you feel like cooking, the time once again passing effortlessly by until it was bedtime, Billy asking a question that made yourself and Wanda pause.
"Where did you two go?" he asked innocently, his curiosity having gotten the better of him as Wanda's hand smoothed over the duvet she just tucked him in with. Her smile faltered at his words, that same indecipherable glint in her eyes returning as she sat on the bed with him, her teeth biting down on her lip as tears seemed to build in her eyes, your hand resting on her knee as you sat on Tommy's bed, offering her a reassuring smile and squeeze.
"We had to go and visit Grandma," she says, voice wavering slightly. "She was in the hospital," she explains, both of the twins' faces morphing into concern and worry.
"What happened?" Tommy asks, voice evidently filled with anxiety for his grandma's health.
"She was very ill, but the doctors helped her as best as they could, so now she's going to be able to get better," Wanda explains, not wanting to go too much into detail with them, "But it will take a while, so we have to be supportive of Grandma, ok?" Both boys nod their heads, relief taking over them but still a small sense of worry lingering in the room.
"Can we go and see her?" Billy asks in a quiet voice, your face sympathetic as Wanda's hands busy themselves with his duvet as a distraction.
"Not yet Dorogoy," she whispers, knowing that she'd have to recover a bit more before the twins could see her. "But soon," she assures them, part of her a little scared she was giving them false hope despite the doctor's confidence in her recovery. "Now come on, it's time for bed Dorogie," her tone becomes softer and more motherly, her eyes flickering between her two children as they get comfy in their bed, her lips delicately pressing to both of their foreheads before she stands to leave with you, turning off the light after murmuring goodnight.
As soon as their door shuts, you wrap your arms around her, your heart breaking as she grasps onto the back of your shirt, her body melting into yours. Slowly, you guide her to the bedroom to make sure the twins didn't hear, your hands soothingly gliding up and down her back as she lets out all the emotions that had been brewing all day, her cries filling the room.
"Hey," you coo as her odd behaviour clicks, understanding her emotional state as it was hard to pretend that everything was alright for the boys, especially when the conversation could have taken a different route. "Talk to me," you whisper, copying her words from last night to let her know you were here for her too, just like she said. You would always be there for her.
She sniffles against your shirt, wiping her tears away with her hand before looking into your eyes, seeing the concern and love swirling in them. Unable to stop herself, more cries are torn out of her as she just can't stop thinking about what could have happened.
"I've got you," you murmur, holding her as close as possible as you give her the time to calm down, your lips pressing to the top of her head as her sobs soon quieten.
"I thought I was going to have to tell them that she..." she interrupts herself with another small, pained noise, not even wanting to say the words as she dreaded the worst. "I wouldn't have been able to tell them, I- She can't go, I can't lose her," she sighs out, closing her eyes as she rests her head against your chest as you lay down on the bed with her, her hands still tightly clutching at the hem of your shirt to ground her, "I can't."
"I know," you murmur, unsure of what to say to help comfort her, settling on letting your touch help calm her down, your fingers slipping under her shirt and repeating the soothing motion up and down the skin of her bare back. You knew the pain of losing a parent, the way the grief would consume you and you desperately didn't want her to go through it, to go through it alone like you did.
"Whatever happens, we'll go through it together, Wanda. I'm here for you, I always will be," your voice is a mere whisper as the older woman listens to your words, remaining silent afterwards after letting your words sink. While basking in the safety of your arms, the older woman sighs against you, focussing on the steady beating of your heart, noticing how the heavy weight in her chest seemed to become that little bit lighter because of you. 
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