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#i was treated like a dog. i left on my own but i still miss the doghouse in the backyard
chappelroans · 3 months
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missing someone bad for you
trista mateer / trista mateer / sue zhao / u.k / u.k / clementine von radics / trista mateer
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lis-likes-fics · 3 months
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The Sound of His Voice
Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)
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Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”
Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”
JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”
You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”
You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.
But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.
The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.
He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.
He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…
Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”
Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”
You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.
Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.
You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”
Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.
“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.
“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”
Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.
“Reid?”
Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”
“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods.
She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”
Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”
“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”
You sit up, “The hearts.”
Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”
Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”
JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”
Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”
“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.
“Learning?” Hotch asks.
Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”
“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”
“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.
Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.
“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.
Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”
“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.
Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”
Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”
“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.
Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”
He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”
“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.
“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.
He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”
There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”
He glances at you. A nod.
You nod back.
Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.
~
There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.
And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.
Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.
JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”
Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.
But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.
“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”
“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”
Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”
She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”
You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.
Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.
Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”
Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.
“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.
“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”
His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.
You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.
Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.
“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”
You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”
“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.
Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.
“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.
“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”
You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.
“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.
His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”
Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.
You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”
He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”
You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”
You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”
You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.
His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”
He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”
You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”
Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.
“Oh,” is all he says.
With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”
His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”
Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”
His smile grows. “Well…”
For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.
You love the way he talks.
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verstappen-cult · 16 days
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WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.
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PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.
CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.
CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!
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“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side. 
It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach. 
And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.
You can’t believe this is your life. 
It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way. 
It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met. 
“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you. 
“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”
“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face. 
Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”
Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years. 
“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.
You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door. 
“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe. 
There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach. 
As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop. 
“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her. 
“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”
You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”
“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.” 
“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag. 
“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”
“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm. 
“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you. 
You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.” 
“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.” 
“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you. 
“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.
“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.
You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you. 
Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that. 
You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face. 
“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”
“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended. 
“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.” 
You hold your laugh, “Cute.”
“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”
“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up. 
You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck. 
“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little. 
“Meeting the friends is a big deal.” 
Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now. 
Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears. 
You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.
“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”
You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence. 
“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”
“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.
Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.
The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach. 
Charles; who you never saw again.
It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side. 
The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there. 
He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there. 
At least you weren’t the only one looking for them. 
You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days. 
And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.
Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples. 
“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him. 
It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up. 
Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together. 
“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up. 
Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks. 
You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside. 
“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them. 
“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.” 
You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times. 
You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn. 
“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves. 
You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you. 
“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”
Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.
“We came back literally two days ago.” 
You feel really bad now. 
“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face. 
“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”
Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”
“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”
“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight. 
Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 
You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder. 
“I’m joking.”
Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”
It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him. 
“Are you gonna order or not?” 
You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you. 
“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted. 
It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away. 
The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time. 
You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you. 
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“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out. 
“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home. 
“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.
You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face. 
“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”
Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number. 
Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message. 
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If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know. 
On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed. 
You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city. 
The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.
“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”
“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross. 
There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back. 
“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately. 
You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile. 
“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”
“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.” 
You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.
“Wanna grab a drink?” 
He doesn’t need to ask twice. 
Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.
He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side. 
You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.
You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.” 
You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him. 
“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”
“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away. 
“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends. 
“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”
“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.” 
Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles. 
“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”
“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward. 
Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend. 
“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”
“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”
You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it. 
Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person. 
“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.
“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”
Charles groans, putting his face in his hands. 
“I’ve a lot to make up for.”
He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot. 
“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”
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totaly-obsessed · 7 months
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Mini-Moo!
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Leah Willamson x reader fic
-> Reader tends to bring home new animals when Leah is gone - what will it be this time?
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Leah and Laura had joined their fellow arsenal teammates in Herzogenaurach, even though they were still in rehab for their torn ACL’s – it was good for team building if everyone was there. 
The blondes favorite part of this particular camp were the meals. Seeing as she couldn’t train with them on the pitch, it was bittersweet to be there, having to watch them, so being together outside of training was the nicest part. 
“You reckon your Zoo will have a new addition?” 
They were having lunch outside as it was a beautiful sunny day. It was Katie who started teasing Leah about her living situation – who else? 
Leah lived in a nice house with a big fenced in garden, together with you. And three cats and two dogs and supposedly wild birds that lived in the birdhouses you had set up but you kept feeding them so they came back and brought squirrels. There were also two tiny lambs in a heated little barn that you had picked up, who needed to be bottle fed. 
“Baby we can’t have lambs!” 
“But Lee he was going to abandon them!” 
But upon seeing your quivering lips, swollen and teary eyes and a soft white lamb in your arms, she gave up. 
How could she say no to that? So she didn’t. Little Mimi and Momo now were gradually moving on to solid foods, instead of being bottle fed. 
It seemed, that every time that Leah left your shared home she came back to more animals. 
“Honestly? Who knows?” The other girls thought it was quite comical, thinking about tall, stoic Leah who came home to her girlfriend and a whole Zoo of animals to cuddle – and she did. 
She gave of the biggest dad energy, not wanting any of the animals you had gotten, but it was Leah who would always take their sides, cuddle them to sleep and feed them treats even though you had already given them some. 
“But I’m gonna put my foot down this time. It’s enough animals at home.” The whole table started laughing, knowing damn well that Leah would never be able to say no to you or soft little animals. 
It was only a couple of days later when the older woman returned home. 
“Baby – I’m home!” As expected there were many excited feet coming her way – none of them human. 
It took her a while to properly greet the cats and dogs, who were longing for scratches only Leah could give. Every time you tried to scratch them how they liked it, you ended up being scared of hurting them, so you decided that you would be the one to give the best pets. 
“Baby? Where are you lovie?” The only thing Leah could hear was her own heartbeat – desperate to find you. While you only had not seen each other for a couple of days, the defender tended to be quite clingy, so she wanted to see you as soon as possible again. 
Upon walking outside, a hoard of animals following her - she saw Mimi and Momo grazing outside. 
“Baby?” And there you were, running out of the little barn. 
“Lee! You’re back!” Careful not to put too much pressure on her healing knee, Leah picked you up in a hug swinging you around a little. 
“I missed you, baby.” You wanted to reply to her, teasing how it only were a couple of days but instead of hearing your voice, she heard a little ‘Moo’ coming from the barn. 
“Do you wanna drink something Lee?” But the blonde didn’t even listen to you, pushing you aside gently. “Come on baby, you’ve had such a long day, lets get to bed yeah?” 
You again jump in her way, trying to redirect her inside again. “Let me see baby.” Now you started to panic, the moos getting louder – with all your might you tried pushing the defender back by her shoulders. 
The older blonde started to get frustrated and went in for a hug. “Awwwhhh, are you cuddly babe?”, you thought she gave up and wanted your worldfamous hugs, so when she pressed your body closer to hers, picking you up, you were surprised. “Ayieeee! Leah! Put me down!” 
With just a couple of steps the two of you stood in the barn, Leah setting you down on your feet again. 
‘Moo!’ 
And there it stood. A fluffy calf, or baby cow as you liked to call them. 
“What is that?” Deep brown button eyes stared her straight into her soul. 
‘Mooo’ 
“That’s Button…” 
“That’s a fucking cow - baby.” She did not look impressed or amused for that matter. 
“No it’s a baby cow, and her name is Button.” 
As always it took a little convincing, but only a few, well spent hours later, the two of you were lying in bed, cuddling. 
“Button is pretty cute – she can stay.” 
And with that your very own Zoo had grown, and Leah had a new baby to fuss about.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
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liked by kimlittle1990 and 44.330 others
Leahwilliamsonn: Meet Button! Our newest addition to the Williamson Zoo!
katie_mccabe11: What happened to "putting your foot down"?
-> leahwilliamsonn: I don't want to hear it
lottewubbenmoy: Hi Button!
stephcatley: Why is she so cute?
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SCREAM - 1996
Part two is in the works!!
Looking down at the offending bloodied blade I grinned sharply.
“Oh, if you wanted to kill me you shouldn’t have missed.” I turn my puppy dog eyes to the man in the ghost face. I grip the blade and pull it out with a soft whine. Lifting my shirt to see the entry wound, “next time don’t miss, baby boy.” I say teasingly, my words obviously have an effect as he stands still with heavy breathing. Clearly startled.
I reach across the counter nearest to me and grab a rag before packing the entry. The killer flinches back at how brutally I’m treating my own body.
“If you came here to kill me because I’m part of her friend group then you clearly have me mistaken.” I look up at him again. “I’m just a punching bag, mr killer.”
When he still gives no reaction I turn away from him and half limp to the living room where I try the phone. “Damn.” I Mutter when I hear the dead line. In response a blade is placed under my throat making me hiss. “Put that thing down I was just trying to order a damn pizza.” Then quieter I mumble, “I get munchies when I patch myself up. And if I don’t eat I’ll just pass out and bleed to death.”
With a sigh I let myself fall to the dusty couch and bend over the side to grab the ever present med kit that I had stashed there. “Are you just gonna stand there and watch or are you going to get me a warm bowl of water?” I order the male, I can tell he’s male from whatever deodorant he’s using. That and his shoes are too big to be female, same with his hands. He’s shocked enough to actually do as I said and returns with a bowl of water. I dip my finger in it and sigh at the warmth.
I shake my head, gotta stay awake. Reaching over I turn on the tv and switch it to the channel playing horror movies. The killer beside me instantly becomes entranced making me bark a laugh. “Horror fan too, my good sir?” I joke and he shakes his head yes. This whole time he hasn’t spoken and maybe it’s the adrenaline or the blood loss but I teasingly say, “cat got your tongue, baby boy?”
“No.” A distorted voice responds.
“Voice modulators in the suit, nice.” I say as I turn my attention back to the open med kit. I struggle to thread the needle but eventually get it. All while the ghost faced killer sits on an opposite arm chair with divided attention between the movie and me. By the credits I have stitched the wound closed. I’m wrapping it in gauze when he finally stands up.
He’s almost nervous like he doesn’t know what to do. He’s holding that bloody knife again and pointing at me. “Don’t tell anyone.”
I throw my head back in a laugh, “who would I tell, baby boy.” At this point I’ve called him that couple times and while most of the jocks at our school would feel threatened. This man seems to almost preen at the words like they’re a compliment.
It’s a week later and I’m visited again. I don’t ask how he got in I just lean against the wall with a soft smile. “Back again, Baby boy?” I realize my mistake when I see his gait. “Not baby boy. So there’s two of you, smart.” I say with a shrug turning to walk back into my living room.
I hear the floorboard behind me creak under pressure and I lean hard left barely avoiding a knife stab. I grab the males arm and lift it up while turning. Pulling his arm to his back and pushing him against the wall with force. I hiss at the pull in my abdomen and press him into the wall harder. “Don’t get pissy or your going to rip my stitches.”
I Take the blade out of his hand and while I’ve taken a visible weapon away I don’t doubt he has more hidden on his person. “I don’t trust you so I’m going to pat you down.” I move one hand around and over his shoulders and then down his back and around his waist. I find another knife and a concealed cellphone that I stuff back in his pocket. The hard part was checking his legs because I couldn’t reach down and still hold his arm up.
So I do something mildly stupid and let his arm go to crouch by his legs. I give another hiss at the stretch but check him thoroughly. When the pat down is done I use the wall to try and get back up but I feel something tear and curse under my breath.
When I’m standing again I let my head rest against the wall with a sigh as sweat is already coating my brow. The second killer had backed away to watch me. I put my hand on the wall and continue to limp my way to the living room. Halfway there I take my bloody shirt off and throw it in the opening of the laundry room.
Being shirtless exposes my thin but muscular frame covered in patchy white scars. I’m really thankful I was wearing my sports bra too or I’d be more concerned taking my shirt off around the serial killer. “Getting undressed for me already sweetheart.” He flirts through the Modulator.
“In your dreams, brat.” I lower myself into the couch with a Hmpf. I reach my hand underneath and blindly search for the medkit like last time. This time I’m thankful I also stashed a bottle of scotch. I take a Long sip of the amber liquor before I even bother to look at the damage.
Two stitches had ripped and began to needlessly bleed. The second ghost face killer comes closer to the couch with interest. Kneeling beside me his dips an ungloved hand in the blood puddling my chest and slips his fingers under his mask. A little bit of the blood catches on the white face and I can just barely make out his chin.
I roll my eyes at his behavior and grab the alcohol to pour over the wound. When the skin is well and numb I smile and take the broken stitches out before restitching them. When I’m done I let my head fall back into the cushions with a sigh.
“You didn’t go to the hospital?”
I quirk a lazy grin. “No, they wouldn’t have helped me anyway. Because I don’t have money to pay them.” I say the words slowly to make my point. “Can I please order a Pizza this time?” My response is silence that I then try to fill. “I already told your partner, I get the munchies when I’m hurt. If I don’t eat I will fall asleep.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” The man asks through distortion.
“My bloody valentine, next?”
“Why.”
“Um duh, because it was good. I liked the idea of people dying on Valentine’s Day it was a little ironic ya know with the whole death do us part vow.”
The ghost face killer gives a breathy chuckle and begins to run his fingers through my hair. It’s not that bad and I kinda sink into his hand. “Your really not scared, are you?”
“I’m really hungry if that helps?” I tease through a yawn.
Soon I’m falling asleep with a killer stroking my hair. I wake up ten or twenty minutes later to the smell of warm pizza and when I open my eyes there’s a pizza box on my living room table.
I slowly position myself to kneel next to the low table and I open the still warm box of pizza. Cheese pizza <3
Hungrily I dig in to fill my appetite and sway side to side happy.
“Look at that.” A Voice says to my left. I turn and see the same killer as before. His new defining marker being the tinge of red at the bottom of the mask from where he tasted my blood.
“Don’t tease me, brat, I was hungry, I haven’t eaten since…well shoot.” I blink rapidly at the realization. Was it really that long.
“Shoot, What?” Another modulated voice asks. I turn my head with a perky smile. “Baby boy!” Excitedly I wave him over. “Pizza!” I hold up a slice for him and I can tell he rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” I snuff turning back to my pizza. The second man chuckles.
“She really isn’t scared at all?”
“What? Do you seriously want me whining and crying like some dumb girl in a horror movie?” I lift my lip in a snarl. “Hate when they do that, it does nothing for the movie.” I mumble around a mouthful of pizza.
A silent conversation goes on behind me and then both killers move to opposite ends of the couch and sit down putting their feet on the table in synch. “Cute.” I tease again. “You should really get a slice, boys, before I eat the whole damn thing.”
The one on the left moves to get a slice and I notice it’s the same one with red on the mask. That lets me assume the other is the first one I met.
I reach across the table and there are two electronics barely in arms length. The phone and the remote. I feel brave for some reason and pick up the phone, two bodies tensing behind me. Visibly, so both can see me, I take the batteries out. I then reach for the remote with a giggle. “You boys are way too tense, cops couldn’t catch ya even if I pointed you out, dumb hicks they are. And like hell I’d do that,” I lean back against the couch to see them both. “That lady you guys killed a couple years back had it coming, so did those kids.”
“And what did they deserve, sweetheart.” The one on my left that I had been calling brat said.
“Well you gutted them but I would’ve cut out their tongues and broke their fingers. Casey was a cheater, cheated on my tests and on her boyfriend. Dunno how he’s doing but she was sleeping with the dumb jock while datin Macher.” I dip my lips into a frown. “He didn’t deserve a bad girlfriend, I think he’s dating Tatum, I don’t like her either. She was involved in a hit and run that was never investigated. Suspicious!” I say the last part in a high pitched voice.
The one on the right speaks up this time. “What did miss Prescott deserve?”
My grin dips before realigning. “Bitch had more kids than she had marriages, I know that. But if that’s true then why does little ol Sydney have no siblings in the house.” I pause and the one on the left is the first to catch on.
“You don’t mean?”
“What—that she killed them? No, Miss Prescott had a set of twin girls. I’m Sydney Prescott’s twin, I don’t look it do I?” I reveal to them and both seem startled at the information. “I got put up for adoption and was adopted by my lovely parents.” I stretch the word lovely and rub a scar over my shoulder. They pick up on the message and leave it at that.
“Not that my twins a Saint either. She has a porn blog about herself. All that talk about virginity and not giving it up but she’s got a blog selling her body. Her boyfriend, Loomis, the shit I could tell you about him. Okay so like her mom, my mom. Totally slept with his dad and fucked up the entire marriage. I mean, what a Home-wrecker. If I were Loomis…”
A hand is placed under my chin and my head is turned toward a smiling face. Billy-fucking-Loomis. “You’d do what, Sweetheart?”
“Mother-fucker!” I curse sharply in shock. “No fucking way, I mean it only makes sense. She would’ve been your first kill, then…” I can’t stop the sharp open mouthed smile. “Sydney’s so fucked!” I give a disbelieving laugh. I turn to the other killer with a smile. “If he’s Billy,” I get up and put my knee on the couch to steady myself and take off the other killers mask. “Stu Macher, you son of a gun.” I put my hands on both sides of his face and give him a quick kiss. I turn to Loomis to do the same. Before pulling away I bite his lip drawing blood making him pull back with a hiss.
“What was that for sweetheart?” Billy asks.
“Payback, you had my blood,” I then lick his blood off my lip.
“No hard feelings about the stab?” Stu asks.
“None,” I turn to him with a teasing smile, “you were so cute when you were confused.” I let my eyes drift back to Billy. “He couldn’t kill me so you were sent to finish the job but I’m clearly not dead.” There’s a question somewhere in there and Billy nods running a finger through my hair.
“You’re interesting.”
A month passed and both boys had continued to visit, my stab wound was still aching and I couldn’t move much. I was really thankful I had graduated early because I could not imagine how I would’ve gotten around school with a stab wound. Billy or Stu would drop off after school to see me. Eventually becoming affectionate, I was a little confused at first and asked about their girlfriends. When I did, both boys looked at each other over my head before saying in synch that they dumped them.
I guessed as much when stu couldn’t keep his arms from around me during a scary movie marathon. Billy would give short kisses to my hair while keeping an arm over my shoulders. It was strange at first but I shrugged it off and soaked in the affection with a bleeding heart.
We have been dating for three months and It was hot. My ac had broke again, so I was lounging in my sports bra and free flowing pajama shorts. We were watching a horror movie, Stu had his face buried in my lap facing the movie while I leaned against Billy. Stu moved and rolled to face my stomach and began to bury his nose in my bandages with a sigh.
“Your blood smells so good.” He whined clenching my hips. He began to leave love bites and hickeys along the available skin.
Billy began to take control of my lips and make out. He pressed a hand lightly to my throat when he let up and he too began to mark me up.
I rolled my head back with a sigh, “couldn’t we have finished the movie first?”
“You already know how it ends,” Billy murmured against my skin. Stu chuckled as well, sending vibrations of his voice against my stomach.
“You both suck,” I whined after missing my favorite part.
“And bite,” Stu added with a sharp bite to the skin over my ribs. I held his hair tightly in my fist at the pain he caused. I could feel a drop of blood then running down my stomach which he hungrily licked up. Billy did the same with my collarbone and I hissed.
“Like vampires.” I said sarcastically.
Billy pulled away to smile, my blood staining his teeth. “We were watching Dracula.” He says smartly.
“Then allow me to return the favor?”
Stu nods quickly and sits up in front of me to expose his throat with excitement. I side eye Billy for reference and as much as I can tell, he didn’t hate the idea.
I start by leaving kisses up Stu’s neck until I find where I want to bite and I suck on the spot first giving it a purplish bruise. I lick the spot again and bite down, metallic liquid drips into my mouth. I leave his neck with a few soft kisses to the reddened area. When I pull away his eyes are misty and drunken.
I let my hands softly trace his face and speak softly. “Are you okay, Baby boy?”
“So good.” He whispered back. He leans forward and begins to make out with me, he holds a thumb over my throat and cuts off my air slightly to make me pant. To get back at him I let my cold hands explore under his jumper, nails scratching his skin as I hold his waist.
“Sharing is caring, sweetheart.” Billy says as he tries to get our attention.
“Never watched Care Bears.” Stu jokes under his breath and continues to kiss me. He straddles me and rolls his hips against me for friction. I let one of my hands move from his waist to grip his thigh making him groan through a hiss.
Billy decided to watch while he waits his turn as patiently as a psychotic boyfriend could. It was not very long. Not long at all. He shoves stu away and pushes me down to cover me with his body. “It’s my turn.” He says but both me and Stu can hear the whine he tried to hide.
I reach up to let my hand run though his hair before pulling his neck back. Leaning up I begin to mark his skin like I had done with Stu only more aggressively. Nipping at his Adam apple as I went. “Are you happy, brat?” I question against his throat and he puts pressure on my wound in response.
“Don’t Call me that.” He demands.
I bite again at his throat with an open mouth while one hand moves down from his hair to dig my nails sharply into his shoulder. “Don’t be a brat then.” I say back with a smirk.
“Guys!” Stu whines wanting our attention.
Billy sighs and gets off of me letting Stu again shower my face in kisses. His stubble makes me giggle “Your so pretty.” Stu says in amazement as he hears me.
“No, your pretty, baby boy.” I nip at his ear and his face gains a reddish drunken hue. A combination of the compliments, teasing and calling him Baby boy make him go misty eyed.
More months pass and the end of their school year is fast approaching. “We should finish what we started.” Billy says out of the blue over breakfast. After another bad beating from my parents, Billy and Stu helped move all my belongings to Billy’s cabin. From there we all kinda started living together.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I want to finish what I started. It’s not over yet.”
I hold my spoon pointing it at him, “let me guess, the principal, Tatum. Your not really gonna leave Sydney alive, are you?”
“We could frame her dad. Not that hard.” Stu adds.
“That would be a hit, local father now suspected for the murder of his wife four years prior and the killing of 5 teenagers and the Highschool principle. More tonight at 6.” I add sarcastically making us all share matching grins. With a nod we all disperse from the half eaten breakfast. “I’ll gather the dirt,” I say over my shoulder on the way to our room to change. Before I leave I kiss Stu’s shoulder in passing as he sharpens the blades. I also give a quick Kiss to Billy’s jaw as he holds my coat out to me, it’s actually his, but semantics.
“Be safe.” Stu yells.
“Come home before dark.” Billy adds.
I stand over the principle with a sneer. “Sick bastard, Little Kids, really?” I pull back my leg and kick his nose, hearing it snap brings but little satisfaction.
The boys take care of the body by literally hanging him up by the flag pole. School is canceled and we plot how to get Tatum away from Sidney.
While both boys had finally agreed that Sidney must die, they still wanted her to be the last possible victim.
Tatum is easily killed at a party and it is covered up by police to look like drugs. The reason it was so easy is because it was a ghost face party, literally everyone dressed in the dime store costumes to mock or commemorate the killer.
Slowly I had been releasing dirt on those that were killed, enough dirty secrets and bad decisions that people began to praise the killers.
“We’re like Batman!” Stu said throwing his fist into the air.
“That means your Robin,” Billy teases Stu with a light shove.
“What does that make bunny,” Stu says calling my nickname for me.
“Cat woman?” I ask aloud. Stu agrees and buried his head in my neck, shaking with excitement as he left pecks on my throat.
“Our girl is so smart, and pretty.” Stu gushes before chuckling. Sometimes he got into moods where he couldn’t sit still and would be twitchy when he did move. Usually it was from being over excited. I did like always and began to run my hands through his hair while humming soothingly. He sank into me while pushing me to lay down on the couch. Soon I was laid down with his head barely below where my bust ended while he tried to calm down. “You always treat me so well.” He said full of affection as he rubbed his face into my stomach.
“Where’s my kisses and cuddles?” Billy jokes with little heat to it. I lift my upper body as much as I can and he slides under me. My head resting on his thigh as he leaned against the arm rest. I teasingly bite his thigh through the jeans.
“Is my brat satisfied?” I say and he gives a groan.
“The buttons you push…” he exhales.
Soon it’s time for the final kill. Because I’m the smart one of the three of us; I decided that taunting her was not the best option. It would’ve only felt good for a moment and the more we taunt the more likely she could learn who was the killer. Bad idea.
So while Billy called her, Stu chased her through the house much like what was done with the other murders. But this time I was also there for backup in case my twin got too brave. I had already switched the bullets on the gun in the house so it would be useless. All the knives were thrown into the dryer where she couldn’t find them.
Unfortunately there was a complication as gale was also there at the time. I heard Gales scream and ran to the scene where she was. Quickly I dispatched her by stabbing her through the back of her neck.
Stu was wrestling Sydney on the ground and when he saw my display he gave an audible groan, “that was soo hot Bunny.” He said breathily.
“Focus!” I said back and Sydney looked between us back and forth with confusion.
“Right!” Stu said through the modulator and banged her head against the floor making her black out. Jumping into action we posed the bodies to make a more clear murder. I had stabbed gale a few more times before he fully passed to really sell it.
Sydney was posed in her room, scantily dressed and tied to the headboard with her blood on the walls spelling slut. Her computer was also pulled open to show off her porn site. “Like mother like daughter,” was written on a note I left behind.
The three of us planted the evidence and left before the cops ever arrived. And when they did they found Mr Prescott passed out drunk with a bottle of scotch close to him and covered in blood.
“Billy you should’ve seen it! She fucking stabbed that bitch like it was nothing! I almost came just from seeing it! So so hot!” Stu gushed as he held me in his lap. In between sentences he’d give me feverish kisses and touch me lovingly like something divine.
“Oh I saw, saw everything our sweetheart did. Damn hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Billy said tightening his grip on the steering wheel while speaking huskily. He leaned over to squeeze a hand on my thigh and stroke the inside of it.
“Cmon, it’s not over until it’s on the news. Don’t celebrate yet.” I admonish them both. Then taking the conversation a complete 180 I say, “So what college are we going to?”
A sequel following the Scooby doo movies here
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dtfpeta · 9 months
Text
Domesticity with Price...
(a/n: yes I want to make my lover a home cooked meal. yes I want him to wrap his arms around me while I cook. also I was this close to putting nsfw but I may just make a part two)
tags: husband!price, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, f!reader
Word Count: 1.8k __________
Price who comes home to his doting wife standing in front of the stove. A roaring pot of boiling water being salted by your delicate hands which form a harsh pinch on the granules before releasing them into the porcelain dish.
He watches from the door as you slowly canter your hips, humming along to the soft melody of Al Green from your distant record player. His cheeks contort with a smile when he hears your abysmal attempt to recall the lyrics. Startling you out of your unaware serenade when his hands catch in the fabric of your dress to wrap around your waist.
"Smells good." He comments regarding the dish. His face is buried in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of garlic, rosemary, and other spices that coat the house in its aroma. Your own fragrance of vanilla overwhelms his senses as he sighs into the crook of your neck.
"It's not nice to sneak up on someone like that..." You chastise, knowing the irony that lies in your statement being as stealth is not something your husband is unaccustomed to. "Could've burned myself." You add, half-heartedly scolding and rolling your eyes as his arms tighten their purchase on your hips.
On the stove lies a pot boiling with its now added component of rigatoni. To its side is a sizzling pan that has been providing the house with its encapsulating smell. John eyes the skillet. The melted butter works to caramelize the now translucent onions coated in sparse flakes of red pepper and rosemary. A wooden spatula wielded in your hand stirs the minced garlic cloves, doing your best to prevent their quick to burn nature.
Price loves your cooking and you love to cook for him. Seeing as his face melts into bliss when he tastes what magic you have cast on something as simple as a chicken pot pie. Or the way his eyes bulge when you reveal that a dish he has been scarfing down like a starved dog over the past several months contains mushrooms.
Ever since that day, he has not once argued about an ingredient in your cooking. Even as he eyes the tomato sauce being added to the pan, knowing he is going to suffer a severe case of heartburn but almost welcoming it, as he knows it will accompany an array of flavors he will be holding up his plate for more of.
"M'sorry love." He relishes. "Been looking forward to this all day. N' watching you from the door just made me miss ya' even more."
You scoff at his cheesy comment, placing your left hand to rest on his forearm that is draped around you as your right stirs at the still hard noodles.
You lay your utensil down and lean back into his embrace. Closing your eyes as you feel your bodies link together like a puzzle. One piece being a head taller than the other, but fitting together nonetheless. You sway with your husband to the tempo of the song playing in the background. His body is warm against your back, being stripped of his tactical gear and left in a black cotton shirt tucked into the waist of his same toned cargo pants, the legs of which are folded above his combat boots.
"How was work?" You ask, eyes still closed and body entangled in him. He regards your question with a low hum, feet lightly stepping side to side.
"Hm, the usual. Told some of the boys we could treat em' to dinner sometime. Be nice to get together, maybe show you off a lil'?"
He lightly pinches at your sides while pulling you closer to him. The scruff of his beard dances against your skin as he attacks your neck in quickly scattered kisses.
"John!" You laugh while attempting to distance yourself from his assault. Only to be swiftly turned around where you find his blue eyes smiling fondly at you. The warm tinted light from a nearby lamp casts soft shadows on the crows feet that crinkle near his eyes. The edges of his smile lines sharpening the more he beams at you.
There's not a place on Earth he would rather be.
For the longest, he distanced himself from love. Only finding that unachievable compromises would be asked of him, and due to his work, he was never able to fulfill those wishes. It only put a strain on his and his partners' relationship. He learned to deal with the lack of intimate companionship over the years. Just having the bond of his brothers in arms till he would return to his empty flat and scrounge up whatever microwaveable dish hadn't gone freezer burnt or remnants of leftovers left in his barren refrigerator. Until he met someone he could incorporate into the unpredictable schedule of his life.
The first time you cooked for him he was floored. Joking about how he'd have to hire you as his personal chef and saying how he could only dream of coming home to this every week. You had brought the ingredients to his apartment, insisting that you would treat him to a hot meal if he helped you, which he gladly agreed to. He stood slicing carrots and celery while you stirred a pot of chicken stock, placing sprigs of thyme and bay leaves into the broth as the chicken roasted in the oven, soon to be shredded and added to the pot. Said pot being three times bigger than your head.
"You trying to feed the whole squadron?" He'd teased. To which you only responded with a light snicker, knowing that in making such a large portion would provide him with leftovers for the rest of the week-and then some.
Several years later you now stood in your shared home, a simple wedding band adorning the both of you two's hands. Price's socks litter the shared space until you have to reprimand him to pick them up. Him responding with his own accusations of how you frequently leave your bra on the couch as well as your adversity to keep your hair ties in one place. What can you say, it's just more convenient when they're around the house.
The two of you's cleaning habits aren't the only thing that could use work though. The decorations are an obvious clash of one person who enhances the space with homely, comforting pieces, and another who has a hard time letting go of secondhand artifacts. And after Price's constant defense of his 'live laugh love' banner hanging on the wall of the kitchen, you began to give in to the cliché relic.
A more than familiar tune begins to play from the record player.
"Oh my God" Price's teeth shine through his grin as he picks up on the melody as well. It's the song you shared your first dance together to.
His coordinated hands move to your hips, your own responding by wrapping around his neck. You gaze up at him. The quickening of your heart makes its frequent appearance as he looks down at you. The butterflies you feel every time you look at him have yet to diminish their strength over the years. Even as you heard stories of the dreaded period following the honeymoon phase where couples do nothing but bicker, your heart remained the same.
The only thing you can focus on is his hickory-toned voice humming to the lyrics of the track. The vibration rumbles through his chest, making its way to your ear resting upon him. He sways with your body against his until you are replicating the dance from that night. Since that night he has always made it apparent you were his first priority. He protects and serves you, as you have brought a peace to his life he didn't think was possible.
"Y'know on my way home," he began "saw this woman with her kid. Maybe 5 years old. He was sitting on a bench while she was on the ground tying his shoe. He was swinging his leg, reading some comic book to her. Poor lasses feet barely touched the ground!" He lets out a breathy laugh before pausing for a moment. "Just got me thinking."
"About?"
"Bein' a dad." He stated, kissing the temple of your face. "Making you a mum."
You smiled into his chest. John knew you wanted kids, and he did too. The time just never found itself convenient. And even now there are uncertainties, but the knowledge you have that John would be an excellent father left you planting seedlings of the idea in his head when you had the chance. Passing by a pair of cute baby shoes in the store. The ring of adolescent laughter when you'd visit the aquarium. Or even a dress you would buy, waiting for your husband to compliment it before mentioning the garment worked as a maternity piece too.
Something had been pulling at his paternal strings lately, however. He yearned to fill the house with the both of your makings. Leaving your marks in its foundation. Whether that be with the rug you both haggled for at the flea market. The broken spring of your living room couch, product of an intense wrestling match between you two. (In which both parties were considered victorious by the end.) Or the poolhouse-toned blue paint that made its acquaintance on the crown molding of your bedroom wall. (Also caused by some spout of play fighting or whatever attempt Price had to get his hands on you.)
You leaned back to search his face, only finding a look of great fondness pulling at his features. Your palms came to cradle the sides of his face before a smile stretched on your own.
"Yeah. I think I'd like that." You brought his lips to yours, embracing him in a tender touch as you laughed into the kiss. Your hold on one another tightened. Knowing that Price was ready to take such a giant step now made you giddy as you imagined him holding his future child, playing make-believe with them, and cleaning up their bumps and bruises from playing in the yard.
"Can't believe you're saying yes to a baby before a dog, John." You both laughed before you turned your head at the smell of burnt garlic.
"Shit!" You quickly grabbed a wooden spoon to stir at the red mixture before turning the stove off.
"Don't tell me you lost your touch already, sweetheart?"
"You were distracting me." You declare, pointing your spatula at the towering man. "Just get the bowls from the cabinet and set the table, yeah?"
"Of course, hun." He mocked.
You glared a burning look into the back of his before he did as instructed, your temper cooling as you poured the pot of soft noodles into a strainer.
You and John were able to turn a house into your home. Soon the floor and walls would be sheathed in memories of your family. One of the first being your dinner of a burnt tomato rigatoni pasta.
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twstbookclub · 1 month
Text
Slowly, Surely, Sadly
Summary: Who would've thought one smile could make you like someone? Of all people, you never expected to fall for Riddle—not after his overblot. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce Shenanigans again, Unrequited (maybe not, who knows?) Feelings, Spoilers for Book 1 if yall haven't finished it Word Count: 3, 304 This is my first time writing full-on angst. I already had this plot in mind last April, but this was my only chance to finally write it all down. I hope I did my job, and I'm sorry also not sorry for the feels. I was running on 5 hours of sleep and a hopeless romantic playlist when I wrote this. I hope yall enjoy, though 💕
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Whenever you looked at Riddle, the memory of his swollen cheek and tear-brimmed eyes overlapped with his stern expression. Even with the constant lectures and helicopter parenting becoming less frequent, you could never forget his ruthless reign over Heartslabyul. His first impression was that of a tyrannical and merciless ruler, and you’d never forget that.
Yet, you could never forget how he looked like a lost child in a garden of roses when Ace punched him that day.
“Would you like to sample one of our teatime treats, Prefect?”
Riddle’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts. Your eyes darted from your teacup to the housewarden. An expectant yet patient smile curled his lips, which was a stark contrast to his natural frown. Your eyes lingered on the smile on his cherubic face.
“Sure,” you answered, somewhat in a daze. You took a sip of your tea, before your nose scrunched a little. Before Riddle noticed your grimace, you put the teacup down and dropped three sugar cubes in your drink.
You didn’t miss the amused twitch of Riddle’s lips from the corner of your eyes. This action would have earned you a reprimand and a lecture on one of hundreds of Heartslabyul’s rules. After his overblot and the incident in the rose garden, Riddle was becoming more lenient.
“You should mind your sugar intake—” Well, he’s still working on the leniency, but he’s trying— “Do you prefer a tart, a cupcake, or a cookie? Maybe you’d like to try a slice of today’s cake?”
You gave Riddle your preferred dessert, then you watched him reach over the table. Dainty, gloved fingers curled around the dish, before he brought it to you. You gave a brief nod and a mumble of thanks, before you took a bite of the treat.
“...!” You quietly moaned from the sweet taste that melted on your tongue. With a hand on your cheek, you slowly chewed to savor the sugar that graced your tastebuds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle as you dug into more of the dessert.
“It’s so good!”
You didn’t miss the satisfied smile on Riddle’s face, still cherubic and radiant. Amidst the chatter and raucous noise in this week’s Unbirthday party, you somehow heard the hint of pride in the red-haired sophomore’s words.
“Of course, that’s to be expected. Trey’s baking skills are the best in Heartslabyul—possibly in the entirety of Night Raven College.” Riddle paused, before softly adding, “I prefer his strawberry tarts, though. It’s a shame he couldn’t make any for today.”
The wistfulness in that tone of his made you pause. As Riddle took his own sip of tea, you couldn’t look away from him.
One afternoon, you marched through the silent corridors of the arcane academy. Heavy footfalls echoed in your ears, as if to mock you. The reminder of why you were wandering the halls alone made you frown.
“Where the hell are you, Grim?” You mumbled, head turning left and right, as you stomped. All the doors were closed shut, and voices could be heard through them. You doubt this area had an empty classroom at the moment.
Professor Crewel’s scowl and his whip flashed in your mind. As much as you loved Grim and his snark, you’d rather not face the wrath of the dog-loving professor. Brows furrowing, you grumbled again, “If he skips alchemy lessons again, I’m going to wring his neck and—”
“Prefect?” The gentle voice forced you to a halt, and you blinked at Heartslabyul’s warden in front of you. Riddle looked at you with a raised brow, before he crossed his arms and tapped his heel on the floor.
“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you, but…” He paused, eyes roaming your face. “You don’t seem to be in a good mood, and your class is about to start. I passed by Ace and Deuce heading towards Professor Crewel’s classroom earlier.”
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and sighed. You were already on good terms with the housewarden, and you’d rather not get collared for misdirecting your annoyance.
“Hi Riddle,” you greeted with a small, strained smile to be polite. “I’m actually looking for Grim. I lost him in the crowd during the lunch rush, and well…”
You tried so hard not to curse the lovable, annoying puffball. Another heavy sigh left your lips with a shake of your head. The strained smile became an apologetic one. Riddle stared at you, most likely scrutinizing something about you. Maybe he was judging you for letting Grim get away.
“I shouldn’t be keeping you here. It’s nice to see you, though—”
“Hold on,” Riddle stepped closer and reached for your tie, “your tie is crooked. Let me fix it for you.”
You held your breath, biting your tongue to stifle any surprised noises. The red-haired sophomore was too focused on fixing your tie to notice your reaction. His knuckles brushed your chest as he tightened the knot, and you tensed. He didn’t even ask for permission. He just took initiative, and it reminded you of a doting yet strict mother for some reason.
“You should be more conscious of your appearance,” Riddle reminded kindly while smoothing the creases of your uniform coat. He stepped back and seemed satisfied with his intervention. His lips stretched into a satisfied smile again, and you couldn’t look away.
“Now, off you go. Professor Crewel isn’t forgiving when it comes to tardiness.”
“R-right,” you stuttered with a faint warmth on your cheeks. You were tempted to slap yourself for losing composure like this, but you wanted to keep your dignity. Riddle would think you lost your mind if you did.
“Thanks, Riddle.”
His smile softened, yet it grew wider. The sharp and scrutinizing gaze melted into one of appreciation. Your heart skipped a beat. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Something fuzzy and warm filled your chest as you stared at Riddle. Your fingers twitched, as if longing to touch Riddle in some way.
It was ridiculous, but you didn’t dislike the feeling either.
“You’re welcome. If you’ll excuse me, I should be heading to my own class. I wish you luck, Prefect.”
He skirted around you in one, fluid motion. The click of his heels echoed in the empty corridor as you watched him go. His short figure carried a sense of dignity and pride, something that used to terrify and annoy his wards in Heartslabyul.
It used to intimidate you, but you couldn’t look away from him now. Even when Riddle turned a corner and disappeared, you couldn’t stop staring.
Ever since that day, you couldn’t stop noticing these things about Riddle. His entire face brightened, eyes glittering and cheeks flushing pink, when presented with a strawberry tart. Whenever he smiled, his gray irises seemed to hide behind the chub of his cheeks. He always looked red in the face whenever he was embarrassed, but the addition of a scowl and wide eyes showed his anger instead. His voice always raised in pitch, becoming less gentle and more crazed, whenever he became agitated and enraged. He even lost his formality and courteousness at that point: language becoming more crude yet still refined.
One day, while preparing for a game of croquet, you pointed out how happy Riddle seemed when he took care of the hedgehogs. Ace shot you a weird look. Deuce looked perplexed, lost even, when his eyes darted to you.
“Really?” He asked, looking between Riddle crouched on the ground and you who looked surprised. “He doesn’t look any different. How could you tell?”
Brows furrowed in confusion, you told them, “It’s not obvious, but he’s smiling. See? His eyes look brighter when he looked at the hedgehogs, too. Oh, and there’s the fact that he gently pets their heads with a finger. He’s avoiding touching their quills, and he’s trying not to agitate the tiny things.”
There was a long, uneasy stretch of silence that followed your answer. After a moment, Ace’s stunned look shifted into a mischievous grin. Deuce mirrored his expression, and it reminded you of that one time he lost his composure and beat up a pair of upperclassmen.
“Huh, really?” There was an intrigued and knowing tone in the redhead’s voice. Meanwhile, Deuce turned to look at Riddle as if to verify your observation. Although, the ravenette was still grinning, as if he knew something you didn’t.
In that moment, you realized you were screwed—so, so screwed.
Upon seeing your confusion warp into a crestfallen and horrified realization, Deuce clapped a hand on your shoulder with a snicker.
“Looks like the Prefect has a crush,” he teased, but you wanted none of it. Ace followed with an incredulous yet amused, “Really? Housewarden Riddle? Strict and overbearing Housewarden Riddle? Oh, your standards are buried six feet under, Prefect.”
A hand smacked Deuce’s own off your person, and you began to stumble over your words. Both lovable yet annoying idiots laughed it off, while you half-heartedly threatened them with a raised fist.
“Shut up, or I swear to the Seven—!”
Ace and Deuce laughed louder, nearly howling and sniggering in delight. As they clutched their stomachs and you grabbed the collars of their uniforms, Riddle’s confused and curious stare was left unnoticed.
Riddle continued to invite you to their weekly Unbirthday parties as an honorary guest. He still offered you desserts with little to no comment on your sweet tooth. He still fussed over your appearance whenever you two passed each other in the halls. He always gave you a subtle smile, despite his stern demeanor. The more you spent time around the housewarden, the more dread weighed in your stomach.
You couldn’t ignore the flutters of your heart, how it flipped and did cartwheels whenever Riddle treated you kindly. No matter what he did, you always felt like you were floating and walking on clouds.
You still longed to touch him—maybe brush back a stray strand that fell over his forehead. You wanted to know how it felt to hold his hand. Maybe even take a stroll in Heartslabyul’s rose maze with him, hand-in-hand and talking about anything. You wanted to spend teatime alone with him. You wanted to see him smile after taking a bite of a strawberry tart you made for him. You wanted to gaze at the moon and the stars with him in the comfort of Riddle’s dorm room, just sitting together in that window alcove with pillows and blankets.
You wanted to do so much more with Riddle, but the large mirror before you spelled the end of your hopes and dreams.
“Well, Prefect,” Crowley began with a jovial tone, which was a stark contrast to the despair that gripped your heart, “I found a way for you to return to your world. After long, grueling hours of searching for the solution, I fulfilled my promise to you, and I even gathered your friends here for a heartfelt farewell.”
You called bullshit on that, but you still appreciated Crowley’s effort. True to his word, all of the people you befriended surrounded you in the Mirror Chamber. The occasion was treated as a formal one, if their dorm uniforms didn’t make a statement already. Everyone had varying degrees of restrained emotion, as you stood before the mirror that led to your home dimension.
Grim stood behind you with clenched paws and glassy eyes. You spotted Ace and Deuce grinning, but there was a hint of a strain in their smiles. Kalim was close to bursting into tears. Leona stared at you with a neutral look and a hand on his hip, but the harsh dig of his fingers told you otherwise. Azul wore his usual smile, one reserved for business, and Jade had a polite smile as well. Floyd didn’t share the same sentiment. The more capricious Leech brother scowled as if he ate Lilia’s cooking after being promised a tasty meal.
You didn’t dare look at Riddle. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You can’t.
Crowley spread his arms with a self-satisfied smile that both irked and endeared you to him. “Aren’t I a magnanimous and gracious headmaster to do something like this for you?”
He made a show of spinning on his heel and walking towards the doors to the Mirror Chamber. With a flamboyant wave of his hand, he exclaimed, “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes and well-wishes. However…”
Crowley looked at you from over his shoulder, and your throat tightened at the soft smile that curled his lips.
“It was a pleasure to have you here, Prefect. I would’ve loved for you to stay until graduation, but alas. I wish you all the best once you return home.”
The last thing you saw was a swish of his cape, before a heavy weight nearly toppled you to the ground. Tan, bejeweled arms hugged your waist as a loud bawl harshly rang in the room. You didn’t even need to look to see that it was Kalim blubbering through his tears. Jamil’s alarmed voice echoed in your ears, and that seemed to be everyone’s cue to surround you.
Tearful farewells, wistful wishes, and unfulfilled promises filled the enclosed space. Grim clung to you all this time, all the while mewling and whining about how he’d lose his henchman.  Still, he was crying his eyes out. The large mirror was obscured from your sight, as if the unusual group of friends you made during your time here intended this. You couldn’t help but laugh—a bittersweet sound—as everyone tried to get a word in with you. Even Malleus came to say his goodbyes, though he seemed more reserved than usual.
Then the dreaded moment came: Riddle approached you with that same smile, the gentle and subtle one he always graced you with. Everyone who noticed the shift in mood somehow left space for you and the Heartslabyul housewarden to talk. You almost giggled when you overheard Jade scold Floyd for whining about this.
You forced your smile to widen, even if your eyes stung and your throat tightened again. Your voice cracked at the end, but that could be mistaken for holding back tears.
“Hi, Riddle,” you whispered as you felt your throat tighten more, “I guess I’m leaving before I could have another Unbirthday party with all of you. I was so excited to try the macarons, too.”
The gentle smile became forlorn, and it reminded you of that time he lamented over not having strawberry tarts in that one Unbirthday party. A twinge in your heart made your breath hitch, but you hoped Riddle wouldn’t notice.
“It’s a shame, really,” he told you with a falter in his smile. The corners of his lips hitched up, as if that never happened in the first place. “I wanted you to try some tea from the Queendom of Roses as well, but… that may never happen now.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, finding it hard to breathe. The sting in your eyes worsened. Some invisible hand squeezed your heart, as if threatening to puncture the fragile thing with its talons. You maintained your composure as much as you can.
You couldn’t help but admit, “I wish I could have more time with all of you.”
I wish I had more time with you.
“I wish I could watch the third-years graduate. I wish I could see all of us graduate here, even if I don’t have magic.” You chuckled, and you found yourself with loose lips around Riddle.
“I want to have more Unbirthday parties with everyone in Heartslabyul. I want to have lunch with everyone in Mostro Lounge. I want to watch the next interdorm Spelldrive tournament and cheer for your guys. I want to spend Christmas and welcome the New Year with everyone. I want a lot of things, but… Well, I’m going home.”
Riddle’s smile slipped, and you watched him visibly swallow with a subtle frown. Even when he wasn’t smiling, he still had a gentle look on him.
“Who knows, Prefect? Maybe there will come a time when we find a way for you to visit and vice versa.” Riddle sounded so unsure, so hesitant, in his reassurance. Still, you appreciated it.
You ignored how much your heart hurt and your jaw clenched when he said that.
“I hope so.” Chuckling, you kept your arms to yourself as you smiled at Riddle. He was becoming a blur of red, white, and gold. Warm tears already spilled down your cheeks, before you even realized what was happening.
You couldn’t see his reaction, but you raised a hand to wipe away your tears. While the heel of your palm rubbed your cheek, you mumbled, “Sorry. I just…”
A white handkerchief was offered to you, and you took it with murmured gratitude. Your eyes were drawn to the embroidered initials of Riddle’s name on the corner. The cloth felt soft on your skin, and you found some comfort in that.
“Keep it,” Riddle told you with that smile again, “so that you would remember me every time you see it.”
Your mind blanked at his words. Riddle referred to himself rather than everyone in Heartslabyul, even everyone in NRC. Heart fluttering and throat tightening, you resisted the urge to sob. Hope came as a surge of warmth and the weight of dread in your chest.
Not now. Not when I’m leaving.
With a smile, melancholic yet bright, you dabbed away the last of your tears and tucked the handkerchief into your uniform pocket. A burst of courage let you wrap your arms around Riddle in a hug with a whispered, “Thank you. I’m going to miss you—all of you.”
I’m going to miss you more.
Normally, Riddle would be flustered at the sudden gesture of affection. You expected a loud stutter and an indignant scolding, but he simply returned the hug. His face was buried in your shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you.
“You’re welcome.” You heard him whisper, followed by a faint sniff. Something warm and wet soaked through the coat and into your shoulder. You hugged Riddle tighter, as if to hide him from the rest of the world at that moment.
Too brief for your liking, Riddle pulled away with that same smile. His eyes appeared to be glassy, reflecting your tearful expression and wobbly grin. Your heart twinged again, and your jaw clenched.
It was that smile that damned you the moment Riddle fixed your tie for the first time.
“I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?” You asked, laughing off your dread and despair. Riddle seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. Your heart stuttered as you watched him open his mouth with reluctance.
Something held him back. He shook his head and merely smiled at you again.
“Of course,” he murmured, eyes hiding behind his cheeks again. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Prefect.”
In that moment, you’d have stolen the stars from the sky if Riddle wanted to make a wish. You’d bake tarts and cakes in the Heartslabyul kitchen, even if it ended in a mess of flour, if he wanted sweets. You’d stay past curfew in his dorm room to stargaze, if he was willing to break the rules just this once. You’d shower him in kisses, hugs, and cuddles if he hesitated to spell out his desire for affection.
You’d stay in Twisted Wonderland if he asked you to.
Swallowing your heartache, you forced a smile—bright and brilliant, putting the sun to shame. Your gaze never left Riddle, while unspoken feelings laid heavy on the tip of your tongue. Reality crushed your daydreams and wishes, reduced to rubble and dust. The next words felt final and absolute.
“Goodbye, Riddle.”
What remained was the handkerchief with his stitched initials in your pocket.
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imaginaryf1shots · 8 months
Text
My Girls (|||.5)
Words count: 5149
Driver!oc X Max Verstappen
Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid
Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.
This is just how some of the grid found out about Nathalie.
Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)
A/N: Wasn't planning on posting this today, but I've been recieving a lot of love on this series so I thought why not treat you all.
Masterlist
Previous || Next
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How they found out
2018 (Lewis) Nathalie is 2
It’s a nice day in Monaco, a lot of people who live in Monaco are now out of the country and it has a few tourists. The summer break is full on, Cecilia decided to enjoy the day and take Nathalie out, the mother daughter duo had a full day out. They went shopping, got Nathalie a new toy and a couple new outfits, Cecilia can’t believe how fast Nattie is getting bigger she’s walking, talking and eating. Then they got ice cream, Cecilia drove around for a bit while Nattie slept, Monaco is so small that Cecilia felt like she drove all of Monaco over 10 times, she stopped at a pier for a bit, Cecilia got out of the car, left the window open and lent on the side of the car looking out at the sea, it’s been so long since she’s partied on a yacht, it’s been a long time since she’s gone to any party. Period. 
Does she miss that time in her life, yes, does she regret it, no. She'd do the same things all over again, make the same mistakes, date that asshole if it meant she’d have her daughter with her. 
When Nathalie woke up, Cecilia decided it was time to head back. Having some disney music on, the windows down, wind in their hair, they were having so much fun. Glancing at the rearview window to see her beautiful girl smiling and moving around, made Cecilia the happiest woman alive.
Parking the car Cecilia got out of the car, grabbed their shopping bags, before she unbuckled Nathalie, the girl wanted to walk on her own. Closing the car and locking it, Cecilia held out her hand for Nathalie to take it.
“Maman, I don wanna goh home.” The small girl looked up at her mum with puppy dog eyes, pouting in the way she knew that Cecilia was weak for.
“Why Mon Ange? Want to spend more time with maman?” She asked with a smile, ever so patient, the way her mother was with her. Nodding, Cecilia smiled, she unlocked the car, placed everything back in locking the car before she held her hand out for Nattie, holding her mum’s hand, they walked around their neighbourhood. Nathalie was telling Cecilia about the play date she had with her cousin, or more like trying to, the two year old’s vocabulary was still very limited. One of Cecilia’s older brother’s sons is Nathalie’s age, so they often had play dates. Cecilia still lived with her parents, she never got to move out, her brother’s old room now Nathalie’s. 
The girl let go of her mum’s hand and started skipping as they walked, a woman with her dog was walking on the other side, the dog suddenly barked, scaring the little girl, who stumbled and fell down, in an instant her eyes filled with tears. 
“Maman!” She sobbed, holding her hands up wanting to be carried. Cecilia rushed to her making sure she wasn’t hurt before she scooped her up. The girl hugged her mother and cried. 
“It’s okay baby, let’s go home, it’s okay, you’re alright” She hushed, rubbing her hand up and down the toddler’s back in a comforting manner, she turned around to walk back to their house, her eyes looked around before they settled on a familiar pair of eyes. There he stood her colleague, she knows they live in the same neighbourhood, Monaco is small but Lewis Hamilton lived on the same street as her. They’ve met before on the grid and at FIA events.
Lewis knew it was her, the girl’s crying and shouting for her mother, gained his attention. Looking from mother to daughter, he quickly assessed the situation before giving Cecilia a kind smile. He nods in understanding before he walks up the steps for his building. Acting like he saw nothing.
Cecilia wanted to cry but she hoped that the nod and smile from the older driver meant that he’d keep it a secret. From her knowledge of Lewis, from his character he isn’t the type to tell. She doesnt know him that well but she hopes she knows him enough to make that judgement. 
Walking back home she hopes that she’s right.
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2019 (Seb and Charles)
“I think you did great.” Sebastian said, making Cecilia roll my eyes at him, and sigh. The four time world champion took no offence knowing how frustrated she is, and he’s very close to the female.
“I don’t know about that.” Cecilia muttered and chose not to look at both the drivers with her, they were both out of their champagne covered clothes and into their team kits, the three finished their post race media duties and were in the hotel lobby slowly making their way to their rooms. They were all placed in the same level as each other, for the Canadian Grand Prix, it was accidental but none of them was complaining. 
“Has anyone at Mclaren said anything?” Charles asked his friend, they have known each other for years now, cecilia was the only female who was at all the races growing up, not the only female at a race but she was at all of them, any race she could participate in she was in, and any race she could go to watch she went, because of that the girl’s social circle is big. Which wasn’t a good thing when the media found out about her being the new Mclaren driver, calling her all the names under the sun, ‘fans’ asking for her to be removed.
“No, but I'm on a yearly contract, I have to get as many podiums as I can to guarantee a seat next year.” Cecilia said and they got into the left, she leaned into the back of the elevator and crossed her arms.
“Then you got nothing to worry about, you’ve been winning Mclaren points every race, something not a lot of drivers can do in their first year.” Sebastian says, patting her shoulder.
“Says the great Sebastian Vettle.” Cecilia says and pouts, Seb and Charles laugh at her antics, Seb pulls her for a side hug. He’s been looking out for her since she was a reserve driver, she had met him a few times before she got into F1, she is a F2 World Champion after all. 
“Come on Cece, you’re doing amazing, Mclaren has been singing praises about you since the start of the season besides we’re only 7 races in AND you won in Austria.” Charles said and the trio got out of the left walking down the hallway towards their rooms.
“Maman!” A young squeaky voice shouted before a small body crashed into cecilia. The woman instinctively picked up the girl, before she froze.
“Nathalie!” Another older voice shouted, the males stared wide eyed as another woman who they know as your mother ran over, a nervous and apologetic look in her eyes.
“It’s okay Maman I got her.” Cecilia told her mother with a small smile, Nathalie wrapped her arms around her mum’s neck and laid her head on her shoulder shyly looking at the men staring at her and her mother.
“Are you sure?” She asked not convinced, Cecilia nodded, her mother leaving back to her room which is next to her daughter’s.
“Is she yours?” Sebastian asked softly, he had no idea cecilia had a daughter, and from the looks of it he knew that Charles also had no idea. 
“Yeah, Nathalie, say hi.” The young girl refused and hid her head in her mother’s hair.
“She looks so much like you.” Sebastian said with a smile, he could see the worried look on her face, he instantly knew this is the reason the girl disappeared for a year and a half.
“That’s why you took time off.” Charles concluded, saying what Sebastian was thinking, Nathalie is a spitting image of her mother, a mini her, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the eyes are something the Hannsons all had, a family trait. “How old is she?”
“Nattie, why don’t you tell them how old you are?” cecilia tried to prompt her daughter softly, the young girl looked at her mother, seeing them looking at each other, they couldn't spot anything that wasn’t cecilia, Cecilia is looking at a younger version of herself. “Come on, mon ange, you always see them on the telly.” 
“I’m three.” The little girl looking at them and holding her four fingers out, Cecilia laughed and pushed one finger down, kissing her cheek.
“Such a big girl.” Sebastian told her with a grin on his face, making Nathalie grin at him, she’s at the age where she doesn’t like to be babied, and loved to act a little older, wanting to be independent. But at the end of the night all she wanted was to snuggle and sleep with her mum. “Did you eat?”
“No, I wanted to eat with maman.” 
“Come on, let’s get into my room where we can talk, privately.” Cecilia followed the two males silently into Sebastian’s room, Cecilia sat on the sofa and Nathalia got out of her arms and started wandering around, her curiosity getting over her shyness. As the males sat down everyone made sure they could still see Nat.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Charles asked, he didn’t want to sound like he was angry or betrayed even if he was feeling a little sad his friend didn’t trust him enough to tell him she has a daughter.
“It’s a decision that my family and I took when I decided to keep her, and still continue racing, I was barely 18 when I had her, I got pregnant when I was 17, and it was a hard time, my family gave me the all the choices and told me they’d stand by me no matter what. But when I told them I wanted to race there were some things that we agreed upon.”
“Being the only female isn’t easy, people were already talking, brining a baby into it would’ve just pushed it more.” Sebastian added before Cecilia continued, again he understood her reasoning. He saw tears in her eyes a couple times when she was hounded and booed, she looks strong and unbothered on the outside but when she’s alone she lets her tears out, the one time she had a podium this year was just filled with boos and hate.
“Yes, and I couldn’t just tell anyone, I was hiding her, but if people started to find out then they found out, but I wasn’t going to parade her around. A couple of people at Mclaren know, and I think Lewis knows.” Cecilia ran her hand through her hair pushing it out of her face.
“Lewis knows?” Charles was surprised by that, yes Cecilia and Lewis weren’t enemies, but they weren’t close, not close enough for him to know and for Charles to not know.
“I think he does, you know he lives close to me and my family, he saw us once in Monaco.” Cecilia explained.
“He didn’t say anything?” Seb asked knowing that if Lewis knew he wouldn’t say anything to anyone anyway, you can trust Lewis with your secrets.
“No, never asked either, but I’m 99 percent  sure he knows.” Cecilia said and smiled at Nathalie who came over saying she’s hungry. The group took a break and ordered food from room service, in the meantime Cecilia left her daughter with the two men and quickly went to her room getting her daughter’s plastic plate, utensils and cup, with a toy she can play with. By the time she was back Sebastian had Nathalie laughing so hard. Taking out her phone she took a quick video wanting to savour the moment. Nathalie looked up to Seb so much and for some reason seeing him with her daughter made her so happy, her role model with her daughter. Seb already had two children and another on the way, he knew how to handle kids.
Cecilia sat next to Charles leaving Seb to play with her daughter, Charles took Cecilia’s hand in his making her look at him, he was smiling at her, before he pulled her in for a hug. Thinking about how hard it must’ve been for her, having to choose and take all those decisions at only 17.
“Mathew?” He whispered and Cecilia nodded into his shoulder, she tried not to tear up, it’s been over three years, but out of her family she never talked about it with anyone, she doesn’t want to keep her daughter a secret, she wants to take her to races for her to see her mum race in real life and not just on screens.
“But he gave up all his rights, couldn’t even stay for her to be born, his name isn’t on her birth certificate.” Cecilia told him and he squeezed her tighter, if she had another family she would’ve been so lost, he’s thankful for the love her family has for each other.
“She doesn’t need him and neither do you, she has a family that loves her.” Charles told her, pulling back and smiling at his friend.
“And new uncles.” Seb added before tickling Nathalie, who just laughed her heart out.
The food came and as Cecilia ate she helped her daughter and answered all the questions the two had for her, ranging from does Nat travel everywhere with her, to how hard she had to train to be able to get back in shape after the pregnancy.
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2019 (Lando, Pierre, Alex)
The end of the first half of the season, summer break. Most drivers went back home to begin their time off. Not all drivers though. Before everyone heads home, some of the drivers decided to spend a few days in Monaco to party and live it up before they returned home. Of course those already living in Monaco were already there. 
A yacht was rented for the group to have a semi-private time together and let loose, the drivers made a group chat and agreed on a time and date to meet up and just party, all plus ones and close friends invited. Charles had Lando, Pierre and Alex at his house for a pre-party hangout.
Cecilia made her way to Charles’ house first in her Mclaren, one of the guys would be riding with her on the way there, she planned not to drink, knowing she had to be sober for her plans with Nathalie the day after. Her mum told her to postpone her outing with Nattie to have a night out and drink and live like everyone her age, Cecilia wasn't like everyone her age, she has a daughter she has to think about. To Cecilia, Nathalie always came first.
It didn't take her long to reach Charles’ building, before she made her way up, having already been there a few times before. Ringing the doorbell once, the door swung open and Pierre was standing there with a drink already in his hand. An amused Cecilia raised her eyebrow.
“Cecilia!” Pierre greeted dragging the ‘a’ a little, looks like the drink in his hand wasn’t his first one. 
“Piereeeee.” Cecilia exaggerated before she invited herself in, seeing as the Frenchman wasn’t moving. Making it to the living room, Cecilia saw her teammate sitting with a beer in his hand, Alex and Charles talking about something. “Looks like you lot are already having fun.”
“Cece, you’re late.” Lando told the older girl, with a little whine.
“I’m not, I came on time like we agreed.” The girl said looking at her phone.
“You left me with them, you’re my teammate, you're supposed to help me.” Lando fake whined making Cecilia laugh as she sat next to him. “When are we leaving anyway?”
“Daniel said the yacht will move in an hour or so.” Alex told the group. 
The group decided to leave in 40 minutes or so, Charles’ girlfriend was on her way anyways. 20 minutes in, Cecilia’s phone rang while she was in the bathroom.
“Cece, your phone’s ringing!” Charles called for his friend, standing outside the bathroom door. “It’s your mum.”
“Answer for me please, I'll be out in a minute.” The female called trying to finish her business faster to get out. She heard Charles talking to her mum in french, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Everyone in her family spoke French, Swedish and English as main languages, with a few speaking more, but the baseline is those three languages. So it wasn’t weird for her to have Charles talking to her mum in their mother tongue.
Getting out of the bathroom after washing her hands, she found Charles in the kitchen with her phone looking worried and conflicted.
“What is it?” She asked, holding her hand out for her phone. “What did she want?”
“Uh, she wanted to tell you that Nathalie is sick.” He didn't know how to tell her without scaring her, he thought about saying it in other ways, but how do you tell a mother that their child is ill without scaring them, you simply can’t. 
“Sick? How sick, I was just there.” Cecilia asked, already moving, Charles followed after her. He cursed himself once he saw the look on her face, she’s imagining the worse.
“She said it wasn't serious, she just threw up and complained about her stomach.” Charles explained, the others looked at the duo, Lando and Alex having no idea what the other two were saying only knowing a few french words but nowhere near the amount they'll need to understand the fast and panicked French, Pierre who got what they were saying had no idea who they were talking about.
“That’s serious, I’m sorry but I have to go.” She got her bag and turned to leave, her hands were shaking and her heart beating in her chest so fast she wondered if anyone could hear it.
“Wait, you’re panicking, you can’t drive like this.” Charles said, driving over the speed limit in streets like Monaco is dangerous even to people like motorsport drivers, driving fast is second nature, but not when you’re panicking. 
“What do you expect me to do? She’s my daughter!” Pierre choked on air it seemed looking wide eyed at the blonde woman. “I’m getting there, move out of my way.”
“What’s going on?” Lando asked moving closer, he’s never seen either driver mad at each other, but Cecilia was shaking, tears were gathering in her eyes as she tried to push them away.
“Fuck, fuck.” Cecilia cursed noticing how much she’s shaking, no way she could drive right now, Charles is right. She looked at Lando. “I uh, I have a daughter, who is sick right now, i have to go.”
“I’ll drive you.” Charles offred being the only one who didn’t drink. “Come on.”
He pulled her by her shoulder leaving the rest of the drivers shocked. Charles and Cecilia left, leaving the other three to put the pieces together, Pierre telling them what he heard in French and like those before them they started connecting the dots, the reason she took time off. Lando being her teammate, looking back now there were hints, but without context he wouldn't have got it.
A bracelet with Maman, flashes of pictures when she was showing him something on her phone, lots of I love you darling and what not, but he thought maybe she was dating someone, he’s seen her mother in their hotels but she doesn't always come to the track. A woman who can guess now is a nanny who’d come up to talk to Cecilia and leave. So many hints, but damn Cecilia hid it well.
“Who do you think the dad is?” Alex asked after they came to a few theories and conclusions, waiting for Charles to come back.
“Must be that asshole Mathew, they dated when we were racing years ago and continued until I'm guessing she got pregnant.” Pierre said, none of Cecilia’s friends ever liked Mathew. 
“Who?” Lando asked, he had no idea who they were talking about, him and Cecilia didn’t really get close before F1, she was always in the groups above him.
“An asshole Cece dated for a while, filthy rich, a couple of years older, was taking over daddy’s job and wouldn't shut up about it.” Pierre informed Lando. “Cecilia’s also very rich but you don’t see her walking around throwing it in everyone’s face, don’t know who he was showing off to.”
“He used to stay in Monaco a lot, but from his Instagram I haven't seen him here in years, his Instagram was once filled with pictures of him and Cecilia but one day everything was gone, I thought that meant they broke up.” Alex said, frowning.
“Me too, she too deleted all their pictures, before she went MIA.” 
They talked for a bit more before Charles came back, and filled in the gaps given permission by Cecilia and made them swear not to tell anyone, giving Pierre a look. They swore to keep it a secret, if this came out it would hurt their friend, the backlash could be carrier altering. 
They got ready to leave Charles’ girlfriends texted that she’ll meet them there. One the way they got a call from Cecilia telling them(charles) that Cecilia is okay, she just ate something that didn't agree with her stomach. Lando shouted that he wanted to meet his niece before he went back to London, Cecilia laughed and told him to come over whenever. Pierre and Alex also invited themselves, making Cecilia laugh again, shaking her head at her friends who couldn't see her.
With a final ‘have fun’, she hung up.
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Late 2019 (Max)
By this time in 2019 Daniel and Carlos also knew about Nathalie, they haven’t met her, seen pictures but they knew about her. With it being Monaco Grand Prix weekend, and under the reassurance of her family and friends mixed with her daughter’s pouty face and big eyes, Cecilia decided to let her daughter come to the race. She’d come in with her mum from the back entrance, with the help of Mclaren they were able to get in undetected. They were there since early morning, Nattie met Daniel and Carlos, they were mesmerised by the little girl, Charles once again was saying to anyone and everyone(that knows about Nattie) that he’s her favourite and he had a reason to say that, proud uncle. 
Cecilia’s mum stayed with the girl in the drivers room whenever they saw any cameras coming around, Nathalie had a little nap before they went to watch the race from the hospitality.
It was race day, everyone was buzzing, Cecilia was starting fourth, not bad. She didn’t just want to win this race because it’s her home race but because her daughter was watching, and she looked so cute with the headphones she had on that muffled the sounds a little, the place is noisy as hell. 
Starting the race, Cecilia had Max, Lewis and Charles ahead of her with Seb just behind her. The Monaco race is always a fan favourite, Cecilia knows this track like she knew the back of her hand, she ran it and drove through it, she can find her way around with her eyes blindfolded. This may be the reason she was able to get to second place, taking over Charles, before she took over Lewis. Cecilia was just thinking about how proud her daughter would be watching and knowing that her mum was the only woman in F1 and that she was beating all those men. When the race came to an end, she was back in third place, lewis having overtaken her in the final two laps but she had the fastest lap so that’s another point for her team.
Cecilia was grinning when she took off her helmet, happiness cursing through her, she wished she could win, but having a podium is something that she loved the feeling of, she’s becoming better and better with each race, and it’s evident in her scores. Mclaren are over the moon with her. She celebrated with her team, before she got weighted and interviewed.
After the celebrations and more interviews, the venue started emptying. Cecilia saw her daughter for a few minutes before she was rushed for a quick meeting. By the time she was done, most of the place was empty; a few teams were still present, also doing meetings or last checkups and whatnot. 
“Maman, where's Nattie?” Cecilia asked her mother, seeing her sitting alone. The small room made her feel a little claustrophobic after a long time.
“She is napping in your room.” Going to her room to take her daughter home, she opened the door and saw the small blanket Nattie couldn't sleep without but she wasn’t there, there wasn't any place for the girl to hide in, but Cecilia still looked everywhere, with each passing minute she started to panic. 
“Maman! She isn’t here.” Cecilia called to her mother who was talking with Lando now, both looked as panicked as her when they heard her words. “Start looking around, if you find her, call me.”
“I’ll tell the others!” Lando called as both him and Cecilia left the Mclaren garage, they went opposite ways, while Cecilia's mum started looking in all the small spots Nathalie could’ve gone to in the garage. Cecilia called for Nattie as she walked/ran, her eyes taking in everything as much as she could. Managing to take out her phone and call Charles while still looking around.
“Hey are you-”
“Is Nattie with you?” She cut him off, he could hear the urgency in her voice, frowning.
“No, I’m with Seb, we'll look for her.”
“Okay my mum and Lando are also looking, call me.”
“Okay.”
Coming up on RedBull’s garage, it looked empty, but Cecilia wasn’t leaving a place where she didn’t look. She crouched as she tried to see if the tiny human she gave birth to was anywhere. “Damn it Nattie, where are you?”
Standing up she was about to leave when she heard talking, walking in more, she was going to walk where none RedBull personnel were allowed, and at this moment she didn't care. And it’s a good thing she did, rounding the corner where her daughter was, in her orange Mclaren shirt and a RedBull(?) hat, in the arms of today’s winner, Max Verstappen himself. 
Her daughter is okay, and looked like she was having the time of her life talking to Max. quickly texting her mum and Lando that she found her, before she made her presence known.
“Nathalie! Where were you?” Walking up to the due, once she was in range her girl leaned over and Cecilia easily took her form Max. “You scared me so much.”
“I’m sorry Maman.” She whispered not looking sorry at all, looking up at Max she found herself tearing up, she only just held herself together to find her girl, now letting a little bit of the panic she was feeling get to her, she couldn't help it. 
“It’s okay, I found her walking by the garage and she said she wanted a hat like mine.” Max explained(maxplained) trying to calm the almost crying mother, he found out from Nathalie that her mum is Cecilia and he could see the resemblance loud and clear. “I came back here to give her one, before taking her back to Mclaren.”
“Thank you.” Cecilia said letting a few tears slip out of her eyes, Nattie seeing the tears on her mother’s face also started crying, Max instinctively just pulled the mother daughter due in his arms. He doesn't know why he did it, but it felt like the right thing to do, he felt one of Cecilia’s hands grab his RedBull shirt tightly and her hand was shaking. 
“She was telling me how her mum was on the podium, how she was the only girl racing.” Max said to Cecilia, trying to lift up her mood a little, pulling back a little, Cecilia gave her daughter a teary smile. Max whipped Nattie tears. 
“I’m okay baby, don’t cry.” Cecilia told her girl softly.
“Mum was just worried about you.” Max said in a tone Cecilia hadn’t heard out of the man before. Yes they’ve grown closer as drivers/friends, their relationship is different from the one they’ve had before, but Max is no Charles or Pierre, they aren’t as close as she is with them. 
“Yes, mon ange, you have to be careful, you have to tell me or grand-mère where you’re going.” Cecilia said softly, pushing Nattie’s hair behind her ear, the hat on her head far too big for her. 
“I’m sorry momie.” 
“It’s okay baby.” Cecilia said and placed Nathalie on the floor, holding her hand. She turned to look at Max, she didn’t ask him because he might’ve not agreed, but she hugged him with one arm around the neck, yes he gave her a hug but she was crying. “Thank you so much Max, I was going out of my mind.” 
Max placed one of his hands around her waist and the other one landed on top of Nathalie’s head in a comforting manner.
“It’s okay, I was just about to go find you.” He told her they were talking so low, Nathalie couldn't pick up on what they were saying. 
“I owe you one.” Cecilia said and pulled back the hand he had around her took a few seconds before it dropped as well.
“Well, I’ll hold you onto that.” He cheekily replied, making Cecilia smile and nod her head.
“Whatever you want.”
“I call first dibs on babysitting duties, I mean not a lot of racers in Monaco.” He shrugged. “And Nathalie said she wanted to see who won today, so she may have to see me a lot.”
“We’ll see about that, I might just start winning.” Cecilia joked with the other driver, they held eye contact for a moment, shades of blue meeting in a stare they couldn't decipher yet, Cecilia’s phone rang breaking them from their moment, she fished it out of her pocket answering once she saw Charles’ name. Telling him she was at RedBull and that she’s coming, ending the call quickly. She gave Max another grateful look. “I’ll owe you another one, if you could just keep Nattie a secret.”
“You don’t have to owe me for that one, I wasn't planning on it.” telling thank you again Nat and Cecilia left for Mclaren where Charles, Seb, Lando, Danny and her mum were waiting, Pierre had to leave once he knew that they found Nattie.
-> Next
Taglist:
@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr
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archiveikemen · 3 months
Text
『 Dark If 』 Story Event: Epilogue
Jude Jazza
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
❥・• Warnings and FAQ
Note: This epilogue is a continuation of the Premium END story.
And so, Sleeping Beauty fell asleep for 100 years due to her curse.
She was awakened by a true love’s kiss from a prince, and they lived happily ever after. —
Kate: … I wasn’t kissed by a prince.
I muttered while recalling a passage from the original story of Sleeping Beauty I read back in England.
Ellis: What’s the matter?
Kate: Ah, it’s nothing, just… did my father or any soldiers try breaking into this castle while I was asleep?
Upon waking up, I was informed that my father had passed away while I was asleep.
His passing weighed on my heart for some time, because I felt that I was unfilial for not being there during his final days.
However, I was able to better cope with my feelings after paying a visit to his grave
Besides… I had to be considerate of Jude, who cursed me and took me away from my father, and was still hated and greatly feared 100 years later by the entire country.
(I don’t want to make him regret saving me.)
That was why I never asked for any details on the matter, but it suddenly started troubling me again lately.
Ellis: Ahh… come to think of it, I think I remember something like that happening.
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Ellis: I drove them all away under Jude’s instructions.
Kate: What…?
Ellis: I did try my best to have them leave as unharmed as possible.
Ellis: But it seems that the ones who came while I was away were flayed by Jude and thrown out.
Ellis: Some of them were even left hanging outside for a while.
It was possible that all the princes who attempted to get to me were defeated by the fairy of the thorn castle and his assistant, the thorn.
(In order for this world to have a happy ending…)
(Perhaps someone from this world has to kiss me to wake me up from my sleep.)
“There is something missing in this world” — those words had been bothering me for a while.
(But…)
(If I have to kiss someone other than Jude… I'd rather this world remain twisted.)
Kate: … Thank you for protecting me.
Ellis: Nah, don’t mention it.
Jude: You haven’t paid for that service yet.
Kate: ! Welcome back, Jude.
My heart instantly started racing the moment I heard that voice.
I sprang up from the couch and ran to Jude.
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Jude: You don't have to come sprinting towards me every single time. What are you, a dog?
Jude muttered dismissively and sat down on the couch.
It had been a few months since I woke up from my sleep, and I was still very much in love with him.
Kate: … I can’t help it when I miss you so much.
Jude: Yeah, yeah, how nice.
The way Jude treated me was as though I were a little girl.
(... I want him to see me as a grown woman.)
(Could it be that he thinks the difference between our mental ages is too big, because I was asleep for 100 years…?)
I still wore the collar he gave me back when we first met.
He told me that I could take it off whenever I wanted, because it wasn’t really something that could blow my head off.
But I found joy in the thought that this collar connected me to him in some way, so I couldn't bring myself to remove it.
— On nights when I had difficulty falling asleep, I would sneak into Jude’s study.
(These piles of books… they were all for finding a cure to my illness.)
While I did find Jude’s spiteful nature endearing, I yearned for him to look at me beyond my illness and as a person.
(I wonder if right now, Jude only sees me as nothing more than free labour and someone who’s repaying a debt they owe him.)
(I mean, of course I’m genuinely trying to be helpful towards him as I promised to and I’m more than happy to help, but…)
(I’m asking for too much, aren’t I? This just isn’t nearly enough for me.)
A suffocating feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed me.
(... This room smells like Jude.)
The love overflowing in my heart was making my body throb and heat up.
Kate: Jude…
I touched my lips.
(I don’t need a prince to kiss me. But…)
Kate: … Will you finally notice me… if we kiss?
Jude: I was just thinking it's admirable that you’re holed up in the study night after night to read…
Jude: What kind of dirty thoughts are you having, pervert?
Kate: …!?
I whipped my head around to see Jude leaning against the door with a mocking smile.
(Jude!? W-When did he come into the study…)
Kate: E-Erm, I was uhh…
Jude: What? Feeling frustrated?
His disgusted remark made my face turn bright red.
I bit my lip tightly in frustration, feeling as though I had just been chided for doing something indecent.
Kate: If you say so… then yes, I am.
Kate: But… it doesn’t mean that I want just anyone to think of me that way or touch me.
Jude narrowed his amethyst eyes and stared at me intently.
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Jude: … You sound like you're saying that you’re horny for me.
Kate: … That’s exactly what I’m saying.
Even if it would make him dislike having me around or hate my entire being, I wanted to come clean about my feelings for him.
Kate: It bothers me that I’m only being thought of as a labourer working to repay a debt.
Jude: — Just a labourer?
He had remained unfazed until now, but upon hearing those words — Jude’s facial expression stiffened and his eyebrows twitched.
Jude: … You really don’t get it at all.
Kate: What…?
Jude hooked his long finger under my collar.
Kate: … ah…
His fingertip coming into contact with my skin sent a sweet tremble through my body that had been throbbing with need ever since he entered the room.
He pulled on the collar, bringing my face closer to his.
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Jude: Do you think I’ll spend 100 years finding a cure to an incurable illness, just to save the life of someone I don’t see as anything more than labourer?
Jude: Are you looking down on me?
Kate: ah… ugh.
I felt a pain in my back as I was pressed against a bookshelf.
He let go of my collar and held my wrists together—
There was a soft touch on my neck, at the spot where the needle pierced me.
(Huh…?)
The moment I realised that it was Jude’s lips, my entire body started pulsating.
Kate: ah… aah…
His teeth grazed on my skin and he bit down on it like he wanted to slowly instil the pain.
(Did Jude just… bite me…?)
I felt my body go numb and it was as if my legs were about to give way.
Jude pushed his leg in between my knees, preventing me from falling.
Jude: … Before you fell asleep, I said this to you.
Jude: I said that, because it's you, I would never let you die.
The gaze from his gleaming amethyst eyes staring down at me became harsh.
Jude: I must've phrased that wrong.
Jude: It’s precisely because it’s YOU, I didn't let you escape me just like that.
Kate: Jude…
I was so happy that I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, and look at me as soon as possible.
Jude looked down at me mockingly.
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Jude: Oh, but I’m not going to kiss you or anything more than that.
Kate: … Why not?
Jude: You kept me waiting for 100 years — it’s not fair to me if I so easily give you what you want.
Jude: As much as possible, I’ll make you feel impatient, frustrated, and miserable.
Jude: Knowing how persistent you are, 100 years will be nothing, right?
Kate: — You’re awful…!
Jude: Hah… I could say the same thing about you.
It was miserable and painful, my body wouldn't stop throbbing.
The heat from craving for him like mad was messing with my thoughts.
(I don’t need a prince to kiss me.)
(Nor do I need a happy ending, or to return to my original world.)
Even if this bittersweet pain he gave me was making me feel miserable — to me, that was the best form of happiness.
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jankwritten · 3 months
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Jasico Bingo Challenge: sharing a bed
It took all of ten minutes for Jason to cave and climb into Nico’s too-big bed. His weight dips the mattress to one side, and as he slides under the blankets, Nico gets hit with his fan’s frigid breeze. 
“Told you,” he mutters, flipping over onto his left side. He sticks his hand under his pillow. 
Jason makes a face, wrinkling his nose and giving Nico a sort of side-glare, before he settles fully down, hugging Nico’s spare pillow. “I don’t like disobeying Miss Sally.” 
Two months ago, Nico would’ve been right there with him. He’s lived under her roof long enough to know which rules they can nudge, though. “Percy constantly lets Grover share his bed.” 
“Percy and Grover are different,” Jason says, his voice just a shade above a whisper. “You know it’s different.” 
Nico shrugs. “Sally doesn’t know that.” 
Jason looks far less amused than he should. “I’m serious,” he says. 
This is what Nico gets for dating a serial rule-follower, he supposes. Rules are rigid and unbending, in Jason’s mind, no matter how insignificant. He approaches “entrance” and “exit” signs like he’ll get arrested for mixing them up. 
It’s something they’re working on, together. It’s something Nico can help with. It’s always tricky, with Jason, working around the thorny patches of his logic, but Nico knows firsthand that once Jason can tame that anxiety, he’ll feel so much better. 
Nico is also aware it took him almost half a year to even start changing his own habits regarding rules, or moreso his perception of them, and that was only after a few years of built up trauma around it. Jason has his whole life to unwind. 
But, there is still progress, which Nico makes sure Jason knows he’s proud of. It’s easy to start with things Jason wants that he sees as outside the rule-boundary, things like sneaking dessert out of the pavilion at camp so they can eat it somewhere peaceful, or sharing Nico’s oversized princess bed so he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.
Sometimes it feels a little bit like treat-training a dog. Nico did something similar with Mrs. O’Leary and Cerberus, after all. It’s a guilty thought to have. Jason isn’t a dog, and Nico isn’t his owner, isn’t trying to train him. He’s just…he wants Jason to feel free. He hates when Jason mentally butts up against one of the walls of his cage and physically recoils from something that would make him feel better. Make him feel good, and human, and normal. 
“I want you up here,” Nico says. He matches the gravity of Jason’s tone, watches Jason’s eyes dart around, lit by the dimmed string of star-shaped lights over the bed. Nico reaches out, slowly, and pokes Jason’s wrist. “I know I’ll sleep better if you’re here.” 
Jason swallows. He shifts his weight on the mattress, his foot kicking out just barely into Nico’s space. “What if Miss Sally comes to check on us, and she sees-? Will she get mad?” 
“Maybe.” He wants to temper Jason’s fears, not lie to them. He hasn’t seen Sally get mad at anything other than when the dogs chew on shoes, or when he and Percy fight too loud in the backyard. This, something easy enough to explain, he doesn’t think she’d mind. “But she would never punish me, or you, over it. Over anything. The worst she’d do is give us a stern talking to, and maybe make us sleep on the couch next time.” 
“The couch is an option?” 
Ugh, no, the couch is not an option. Nico taps his fingers against Jason’s wrist bone and wrinkles up his nose, tucking himself up more in his comfortable blankets and pillows. 
Jason, finally, breaks into a little smile. “You’re spoiled now.” 
“Hush. I’m allowed to like having a bed, and I’m allowed to want to share it with my b..with my boyfriend.” 
The room hushes over, the sound of the fan hiding how hard Nico’s heart thumps. 
It’s still new, that part of this. It’s still hard to say it out loud. Pushing out of his comfort zone is something Nico is working on himself, though. 
Jason beams. He’s probably blushing, though it’s too dark to see and Nico’s half buried his face in the pillow to hide his own face.
“Shut up,” he grumbles. 
Jason turns his hand around and laces their fingers together. He finally lets go of the tension in his arms, lets himself sink into the bed. Nico feels how the blanket moves with it. 
“You’ve convinced me,” Jason whispers. “But if we do get caught, you’re doing the talking.” 
“Deal,” Nico says, and squeezes Jason’s hand. He peeks, just to see another glimpse of that smile. He likes Jason’s smile. It doesn’t even ache to admit it anymore. “Go to sleep, now.” 
“Can do.” 
(Sally pokes her head in at eight AM, after Nico and Jason miss breakfast. She blinks, at first confused to see the empty pallet at Nico’s bedside, then understanding when she sees the bed itself. 
Jason is fast asleep at the edge of the bed, peaceful and relaxed, hugging a pillow to his chest, the blankets tangled around him. Just over the slope of his shoulder, she sees Nico’s curly head of hair nestled close. 
She’s careful not to let the door squeak as she leaves them in peace.) 
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tobebbanburg · 11 months
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I just wanted to imagine a world where Trent writes a completely under-the-radar article for Colin’s hometown newspaper to address the rumours of him being gay without making a big deal about it.
Full article text under the cut:
At 28 years of age, Colin Hughes is something of a late bloomer. After a mediocre start to his career saw Cardiff City relegated to the Championship, the Barry native was transferred to the struggling AFC Richmond, a harsh environment for any young footballer trying to make his mark on the world. But after years of flying under the radar, Hughes is finally making himself known at both national and international levels, and one can’t help but marvel at how far this young man has come.
Hughes’s love for the sport was nurtured from a young age, here in Barry, and despite his recent success it is clear he hasn’t forgotten his roots. The modest yet respectable history of Welsh football is something that Hughes could lecture on at the drop of a hat (and indeed needs to be stopped from lecturing once he gets started), and even his favoured position as a left winger was chosen in homage to Welsh footballing legend Gary Speed, a man who still acts as an inspiration for Hughes today.
“He did wonders for our national team. He was the one who made us all believe that Wales could hold our own against the rest of the world. I don’t think we’d be where we are today without all the work he put in: now that I can, I’m doing my best to continue what he started,” Hughes says.
Hughes’s ‘best’, in this instance, has been to fund a new development program throughout Wales, offering summer bootcamp scholarships to children from underprivileged areas. One can’t help but feel that were Speed still with us, he’d be proud of what Hughes is trying to achieve, although perhaps a little bemused at lending his name to an indeterminable breed of dog that Hughes affectionally refers to as ‘Gazza’.
“Me and my boyfriend got him from the shelter last week,” he says, showing a picture of a large but scrawny dog being embraced on both sides by Hughes and his boyfriend, one Michael Chen. “We got him to celebrate Richmond’s second place in the Prem.”
Buying a dog is perhaps an unusually tame way to celebrate for most footballers, but unusual is rather how AFC Richmond operates these days. Whilst most teams would be disappointed with losing out on winning the Premier League by the slimmest of margins, many often claiming that third place is preferable to second, both Hughes and AFC Richmond are treating their status as runners up with dignity, and no small amount of delight.
“I’m not being funny, right, but if you’d told me a year ago that Richmond’d avoid relegation, let alone make it to second place, I’d’ve said you were full of ****,” Hughes says, then apologises after a gentle reminder not to swear. “It’s gutting to miss out on winning the whole thing, of course, but we’re proud of what we’ve done. And besides, it gives us something to aim for next year.”
Hughes succinctly brings us to the elephant in the room: the recent departure of Coach Ted Lasso. Whilst Lasso himself has always maintained the humble adage that Richmond’s recent success wasn’t wholly his doing, the fact remains that the club have never before performed so well over a single season, nor so swiftly reversed their declining fortunes. One can’t help but wonder what a future without Lasso looks like. Hughes, for his part, remains optimistic.
“Coach Lasso made a real difference. Not just in how we play as a team but in how we think, how we work. That kind of change is here to stay,” he says, before adding, “plus we’ve got facetime and all that **** so it’s not like he’s properly gone. I mean I could call him right now if you want?”
But what of Hughes’ future as an international player? After making his debut for Wales a little under a year ago, and with a surprise win against Uruguay under his belt from April, surely his prospects on the world stage are looking encouraging? With Gareth Bale announcing his retirement, is there a possibility for Hughes to follow in the steps of childhood hero Speed and take over as captain of his national team?
“****,” Hughes says, once again forgetting the request to forgo swearing. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I mean that’s the dream, isn’t it, but I know that any of the lads on the team’d do a great job in the role. Any one of us would bring something different to the job, so who’s to say?”
It’s modest, considered statements like these that give weight to Hughes’s earlier words of change: Lasso may have moved on, but his impact on the team is here to stay. I, for one, cannot wait to see where Colin Hughes takes it from here.
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Shopping sprees & sweet treats
Series link
A/n: I'll be trying to post daily until the fic is done. Spent all morning writing this. I hope y'all enjoy it.
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As I hop into Jack's car, Jack's dog excitedly wags her tail, clearly thrilled to be joining the outing. The car is filled with a mix of anticipation and happiness, as we set off on our mission to stock up on goodies for the day.
"You brought your dog with us today." I motion to the tiny dog in the backseat. "Where was she last night?"
"Oh, Ginger! I left her with Urban. Didn't wanna risk the fact that you might be scared of dogs."
"Not at all! I love dogs." I lean back to pet Ginger, which she warmly accepts.
The streets are still waking up, with a few early birds out and about. The cool morning breeze brushes against my face as Jack expertly maneuvers through the quiet roads. The gentle hum of the engine provides a soothing soundtrack to our journey.
Ginger sits in the backseat, her tail wagging furiously as she peers out the window, taking in the sights and sounds of the world passing by. Her infectious energy fills the car, bringing an extra dose of joy to the ride.
As we drive along, the sun begins to rise, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink. The soft morning light streams through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. It's like being in a magical bubble, just me, Jack, Ginger, and the open road.
The car ride is filled with laughter, as Jack and I share stories, jokes, and maybe even a few impromptu sing-alongs. Ginger occasionally chimes in with her adorable doggy noises, adding to the cheerful atmosphere.
When we arrive at the grocery store, Ginger's excitement reaches peak levels. Her tail wags so vigorously that it seems like she might take flight! Jack parks the car, and we all step out, ready to conquer the aisles.
Jack grabs a cart moving ahead of Ginger and I. I grab a cart of my own and pick Ginger up, putting her in the small part at the top along with my bag. She makes herself comfortable and closes her eyes.
"Seems like all the excitement tired her out." I run my hand over her fur as she drifts off to sleep.
Jack chuckles and walks deeper into the store. I follow him down one of the aisles, admiring the view from behind.
His tall stature and well-defined muscles give him a confident presence that's hard to resist. It's like he's a work of art, a perfect combination of strength and grace. Just the thought of being close to him, feeling his strong embrace, sends shivers down my spine.
He has this intense focus that's hard to miss. He moves through the aisles with purpose, carefully selecting each item on his list. It's like he's in his own little world, fully immersed in the task at hand. I can see the determination in his eyes as he compares prices, reads labels, and makes thoughtful choices. He's not one to rush or make hasty decisions. Jack takes his time, making sure he gets exactly what he needs. It's impressive to witness his dedication and attention to detail, even in something as simple as grocery shopping, while I just follow him, grabbing random things that look good.
Our last stop is at the fruits and vegetables. This time, I actually pay to everything I select, "You know, I did my shopping yesterday."
"So you woke up unnecessarily early to accompany me?"
"I just thought it would be nice outing. It's not really that fun to shop alone." I add a tray of strawberries to the cart.
"Then what are you buying since you've bought all your groceries yesterday?" He furrows his brows, weighing a bunch of carrots.
"Extra snacks, unnecessary foods I haven't tried yet, more ice cream."
He stops in his tracks and looks at me with wide eyes, "Hold on, you eat ice cream in the winter?"
"Haven't you heard? Ice cream is way better in the winter." I giggle and turn around, continuing my search for the best blueberries. "It also helps to make your heart immune to any emotions."
Jack's reaction is priceless! His face lights up with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and intrigue. He raises an eyebrow and gives me this playful smirk, like he's trying to figure out if I'm joking or being serious.
After a while, he actually decides to play along, "Wait, for real? Ice cream is the secret to emotional invincibility? Sign me up! After all these years, I thought it was a lie."
"No way, Jack! You're in on the secret, too? Ice cream as the ultimate emotion shield? This is insane!" I burst out in laughter, satisfied that he's entertained by my silly theory.
The handful of people around give us curious looks, wondering what's got us so entertained. But hey, who can resist a good laugh, especially this early in the morning? I'm smiling from ear to ear, appreciating his wit and comedic timing.
He takes a peek in my cart and glances up at me, coming up with an idea, "How about when I drop you off at home, we can test it out together?"
"I was just about to ask, but you beat me to it."
"Are you really sure, though?" He smiles hesitantly. "Isn't it too cold?"
"Jack, you'll love it! And if you don't, there's plenty of hot chocolate at my place."
"You can be glad I like you, or else I wouldn't even have thought this through."
"Ooh, you like me." I tease him, parking my cart beside him.
"I shouldn't have made that public, should I?"
"Nope! You'll hear about it forever." A grin spreads across my face as we start walking toward checkout.
If only he knew how much I like him. It's not just his music that has me hooked. There's something about him that draws me in on a deeper level. I find myself liking Jack for who he is as a person and the way he makes me feel in his presence. I can't quite explain the connection, but I know it's something worth exploring. I just hope he's willing to explore it with me.
"Jack?" I look down at the furry, orange ball in my cart.
"Hmm?" He turns his head to me, listening intently.
"She's not gonna be cranky when I pick her up, right?" I push the cart to the first open checkout point I see, still keeping my eyes on the small dog. "I think it's better if you handle her. She barely knows me, and I don't want to ruin our relationship already."
He lets out a chuckle, "Let's pay first before we think of sorting that out."
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"It's actually not that bad. It's just hella cold," Jack puts the empty bowl down on the coffee table.
I grin victoriously, grabbing the empty bowls, getting up to go to the kitchen, "You just have to get used to it. I'd be glad to know that I'm the cause of your new habit."
I switch the kettle on and grab 2 mugs.
"Clay and I stalked you last night. You're quite an influencer, aren't you?" I can hear the humor in his voice.
"At least I try to be." I shrug, leaning against the counter. "Wait, how did you even find me on social media?"
"Mom babbled about it over the phone the other day. Said you mentioned it briefly."
"If you wanted to get dirt on me, you could've just asked. I'm sure I can provide more information about my life than the internet." I fold my arms, smiling curiously.
Part of me is flattered that he took the time to check out my posts and pictures. It makes me wonder what caught his attention and made him want to know more about me. But at the same time, I can't help but feel a little bit invaded, you know? Like, why would they go through all that trouble?
I guess it's a fine line between curiosity and privacy. I mean, we all share bits and pieces of our lives online, but it's different when someone actually admits to looking through it all. Especially you're celebrity crush. This definitely sparks a lot of questions in my mind. Overall, I'm still trying to process Jack's revelation.
"I must say, your TikTok account was the most enjoyable." He leans his head back on the couch.
"Oh no!" I cover my face in embarrassment. "Tell me you didn't watch everything."
"Oh, we sure did. I even liked a few. I had no idea you were such a big Jack Harlow fan."
My cheeks heat up, "Well, yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"It's okay, really. At least you haven't asked for a picture or went full on fangirl."
"At first, I thought I was gonna freak out, but you're really comfortable to talk with."
When the water is done boiling, I fill the mugs with rich, creamy hot chocolate and add a generous dollop of whipped cream on top. I sprinkle some chocolate shavings for that extra touch of indulgence. The aroma of the warm chocolate fills the air, making my mouth water in anticipation.
Carrying the mugs back to where Jack is, I find him sitting on the floor, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
He looks up at me with a mischievous grin and says, "I thought it would be fun to have a little picnic right here on the floor." I can't help but laugh at his adorable idea. So, I join him on the floor, and we turn it into a cozy little spot.
I place the mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table, "I'm glad you don't think I'm crazy."
"Like I said earlier, I like you." He nudges my arm. "And would I be sitting here trying your crazy ice cream suggestion if I thought you were crazy?"
"I guess not." I fidget with my hands. "You don't seem to be in a hurry, though. I mean, aren't your friends coming over later? You have to get your place ready."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're chasing me away."
"No, I'm not chasing you away at all. I'm just wondering."
As we both take a moment to enjoy the creamy goodness of the hot chocolate, I can't help but feel a sense of comfort and relaxation. The mugs are nestled in our hands, radiating warmth, and the sweet aroma of chocolate fills the air.
"You're not seeing someone, right?" His voice is filled with nervousness as he looks into my eyes, hoping for a positive response.
With a smile on my face, I take a sip of my hot chocolate, savoring the rich, velvety taste. All I do is shake my head.
"Okay. Do you have plans for next Friday?"
"Not that I know of, no." I try to hide my smile, knowing where he's getting at.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me." He puts his mug down and scratches the back of his neck.
As I set my mug down, I meet Jack's gaze. I appreciate his honesty and the courage it took for him to ask me out. Even though I'm the last person I thought he'd ever want to date. "I wasn't expecting that, but I'd love to go out with you, Jack. What did you have in mind?"
"Well, I was thinking we could have dinner at my place. I'd like to try out some new stuff. After dinner, we could take a stroll through the park." He licks his lips.
My anticipation starts to grow, "That sounds like an amazing idea."
I can't help but smile as I think about the possibility of spending time with Jack and getting to know him on a deeper level. It's a thrilling feeling to have someone express interest in me, especially someone as charming, attractive, and famous as Jack.
But along with the excitement, there's also a hint of nervousness. I want everything to go well, and I hope that we'll have a great romantic connection. It's natural to feel a bit anxious when stepping into the unknown, but I'm determined to embrace the experience with an open heart.
I find myself daydreaming about the dinner and what he plans to cook. The thought of taking a leisurely stroll through the park afterward, hand in hand, fills me with even more warmth.
I can't wait to see where this date takes us.
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bigfan-fanfic · 11 months
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Stranded (Gender Neutral!Reader x Mike Monroe)
Could I request Mike going out on his first date after the mountain and trying to act like his usual self before it cracks too much?  Just a bit of comfort when his date stays and helps him through it instead of bolting like Mike expected.
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College had been out of the question for Mike after getting down.
He could have lived with having to have amputated his own fingers, but the worst part was the PTSD. The idea of being on his own in an unfamiliar location just sent him into complete panic.
He can see those... things every time he's not sure what's around the corner. He needs the light on at night or he can't sleep, and he feels pathetic for it.
It's been so hard not to completely break down, even if his therapist has encouraged him to feel everything he's been repressing.
Mike just wants to prove he can hold it together.
Be... at least somewhat normal.
No matter how hard it seems.
With Jess gone to stay with family in the Midwest, Mike is newly single, and maybe a date is the perfect way for him to get back in the ol' Mike Monroe swing of things.
So when you ask him out, he treats it like the lifeline it is, and tries to help himself as much as he can.
A familiar venue - an old 50s style road diner. Greasy burgers and creamy shakes. The good stuff. Brightly lit.
Early lunch. It's not so crowded, but also it's in daylight, so he knows that even if they came down from the mountain, they wouldn't be on the hunt.
Some answers rehearsed - how've you been, what happened up there, are you okay, blah blah blah.
He had mentioned to his parents about Wolfie, and turned out once he was officially diagnosed with PTSD and associated anxiety, insurance covered him getting a service dog that helped a lot.
It almost feels like he's back to the old Mike.
Gregarious, smart, a little goofy, even a little douchey.
As you meet him there and start chatting, it almost feels easy to him now. He used to talk like this all the time. Aimless chatter, meandering around subjects.
He forgot how easy it had been before knowledge of what was out there set him so far apart from all but a handful of people.
Even so, there's little hints that Mike's carefully crafted facade is just that. He taps an odd little rhythm to try and soothe himself, but it's always just a little incomplete due to his missing fingers - the remaining joints moving instinctively to finish the rhythm but failing.
His smile's a touch manic, even now. He's always had a bit of a weird grin, but it's just tough for him to remember how to move his face.
His eyes flit about anxiously, looking upwards, sometimes tracking some fast-moving object only he can see.
But he's making it through it.
Until...
until...
Somewhere in the back, someone curses and a loud crashing noise erupts, the sound of dishes breaking.
It startles Mike and he chokes on his words, instantly freezing utterly still.
"Don't... move... a fucking... muscle." he grunts, his eyes not even moving.
He's somewhere far away right now, maybe trapped in a nightmare.
The service dog rears up and places its head in Mike's lap, making a muffled bark that seems to jolt Mike back into reality.
"I..."
You nod. "It's okay, Mike. Whatever you saw just now... it's gone."
He nods. "Yeah."
"Here, have some of my water, we can get a refill."
He guzzles the whole cup and looks at you warily. "You're... still here."
"Yep."
"I mean... usually, that scares people off, when I have an... episode. Shit, now I know how Jos- never mind."
"I'd be a pretty shitty date if I ran off while you were... indisposed. In fact, I think I'm gonna have to see you again to make sure you're okay."
He turns red. "I don't... I'm not a charity case."
"No, you're not." you agree. "What you are is strong. You're a survivor. Whatever happened, you came out alive, and you're still going."
"It feels sometimes like I never really left. Like I'll open my eyes at some point and I'll still be fucking back there."
"Some things are... sticky. Can't always brush everything off. Only thing we can do when the road gets long is keep on truckin."
Mike sighs. "Well, thanks for... keeping me truckin."
"I tell you what: how about we ask to move into that corner booth so that you don't have to keep checking behind you, and we can sit together so I can watch your back?"
"You... noticed that."
"I'm very observant."
"Thanks, but... let's just try to stay here. There's nothing to worry about here. I'm not... there."
"Whatever works for you. I don't plan on bolting either way."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. But as long as you're here, wanna split another basket of fries?"
"Hell, yeah."
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I ordered an empanada at a restaurant and do you know what they gave me? A FREAKING MEATLOAF WITH THE SHAPE OF AN EMPANADA 🤧
Anyways how’s your day ma’am? Can I ask for a mind controlled hero whumpee? Feel free to ignore if you don’t want
The villain tilted their head, clearly amused.
They sat in front of the hero who was well-behaved and listening to every word they said. It was true, they could be quite charming when their rebellious side wasn't constantly getting in the way. This version of the hero was much more manageable.
"Isn't this fun?" the villain asked. "We're having fun."
No answer, as expected.
"I could tell you to break your hands in front of me and you would do it without hesitation. How romantic." The villain scrutinised them. Their hero didn't look like they missed anything. They got food. They got time for themselves. The villain considered themselves a kind captor. "The loyalty, I mean. Takes me back, really."
They smiled to themselves softly. When they looked at the hero, they were still the same person. Still the former best friend they had had a crush on. Still the same eyes, still the same scars. The villain didn't know what to do with it, didn't know where to put their feelings. It was such an old wound, long surmounted but never forgotten. A deep scar that would never really heal.
"You followed me like a dog. I can't really blame you, can I?" The villain started to play with the seam of their shirt. An old habit they could never get rid of. "I played that part pretty well."
Their gaze wandered to the window. It had been grey all day.
For the past few weeks, the villain had perfected their abilities to manipulate the hero, controlling their mind and taking it apart. It had been fun, indeed. Until it wasn't anymore. Once again, they looked at the hero who was listening, yet not responding.
"All these years I had to let you humiliate me. I had to watch when they cheered for you," the villain mumbled. They were talking to themselves rather than to the hero. However, some part of themselves wanted the hero to listen to this.
"Is it too much to ask for? Some silence? Some peace?" they asked the hero. They knew no answer would come and no reaction would follow. "Is it too much to ask for, truly?"
The oppression they had endured had been crueler to their heart than they wanted to admit. The whole world was against them. They had been abandoned, betrayed, tortured. They didn't even have words left for their own actions. Although they wanted to be protected again, the villain knew they didn't deserve it.
Eventually, they sighed and stood up, walking around the table. They sat down next to the hero and remembered that awful night when they had kissed. For months, years even that memory had become a nightmare. Once the only thing that gave them comfort, now a painful thought.
But the hero...they were still beautiful.
The villain moved some strands of hair out of the hero's sight.
"Sometimes I wish you weren't here anymore. Sometimes, I want to wake up and see that you're gone. You've been hunting me, haunting me for years and I..." The villain swallowed. "And I want you to leave. I thought imprisoning you and treating you badly would give me peace but...I'm not sure how I can kill these feelings."
They felt themselves become more emotional than they usually allowed. They took in a deep breath and closed their eyes, counting till five. Their hand was shaking. Tears gathered in their eyes.
"I lied a lot back then. But I never lied about my feelings for you. That wasn't a game to me."
They took the hero's hand and squeezed it. The villain wasn't surprised when the next morning, they found themselves alone in their apartment.
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d1xonss · 5 months
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Desert Rose
Chapter 4 ~ One long day
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose
✧ Era : Season 1
✧ Word Count : 4.7k
In this chapter ~ After the guys left to head back to the uncharted territory in Atlanta, things back at camp don't exactly go as planned. But even after a day full of sudden surprising turns, the night wasn't any better as a bunch of unexpected guests arrive.
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Not long after the guys left to go get Merle, Carol came into the RV to grab some soap that was stashed away in a few of the cupboards, briefly asking me if I would want to help with some laundry. I almost declined but then I realized that I did need some of my clothes washed and I always liked to be the one to do that myself. So, I agreed and met some of the women down by the quarry to start with a basket full of my stuff.
They were having their own conversation a few feet away from me that I didn't really want to be a part of, but I overheard them briefly talking about life before this and what they missed most about it. And to be quite honest, the more I thought about it, the more I found I didn't really miss anything at all. I didn't have any family or friends really, and the ones I did have treated me like I was dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. I was practically drowning at work, and I was constantly struggling with money. So yeah, you could say I didn't miss a whole lot.
"Rose? What's something you miss about life before?" Amy suddenly asked me.
I looked up to see all of their eyes on me expectantly, and I just pulled something out of my ass, "Music, I guess. The world just feels so quiet now without it."
Although my answer was bullshit and something to just stay out of the conversation, it was still kind of true. I did really love listening to song after song right after a long day, or just something to pass the time while I cleaned or painted. Music made doing things like laundry actually bearable and go by faster. So you could only imagine how long this task was taking right about now without it.
"Oh yeah, that's a good one." she replied, leaving the other women humming and agreeing with me as well as they nodded their heads.
I turned away after that and went back to washing my clothes, subtly hearing them continue on with listing a few things they treasured the most. Jacqui said she missed her coffee maker, Amy said she missed texting, and Andrea said she missed her vibrator. Her response honestly surprised me, causing me to let out a small, surprise short as I ducked my head down and covered my mouth with my arm in attempts to drown out my quiet laughs. But the others heard it regardless, laughing loudly right along with me as they noticed me slightly opening up a bit more.
But then something happened that I didn't quite expect. Carol spoke up next and just meekly agreed, "Me too."
The rest of us couldn't help but burst into laughter again, seeing her sheepish expression as she admitted something like that.
"What's so funny?" came a sudden male voice that instantly made a chill go down my spine. I peered back over my shoulder to coincidentally see it was Carol's husband Ed, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at how he constantly had to be breathing down his wife's neck.
Andrea was calm as she answered with a shrug, "Oh nothing, just swapping war stories." she said vaguely in hopes to get him off our backs.
But the man didn't move. He just stood there still, watching us with serious eyes with a cigarette in between his chapped lips as we continued to work. I could feel myself growing more impatient and uncomfortable under his gaze, wanting to just tell him to back off as if he didn't have anything better to do then stand there. But Andrea seemed to beat me to it; clearly I wasn't the only one growing annoyed.
"Problem Ed?" she asked as she stood up to face him.
"Nothing that concerns you." he snapped.
She nodded to herself, "Ed, tell you what, you don't like the way your laundry is done you can pitch in and do it yourself! Here." she said as she passed him the shirt she was washing, only for it to come flying back a second later and slap her in the face.
I turned around again to get a better look at what was going on as I heard him say, "Ain't my job missy."
"What is your job, Ed? Sitting on your ass smoking cigarettes?" she asked, ignoring the protests of her sister just behind her as Amy tried to tell her to stop.
"Sure as hell ain't listening to some uppity smart mouthed bitch, I'll tell you what." he insulted.
I scoffed, shaking my head as I looked back down towards my hands, quickly getting more fed up with this man's bullshit.
"Come on! Let's go." he then demanded towards Carol.
That's what really got my attention. I knew from the beginning when I walked into this camp and met the piece of shit, that he was abusive towards her. I could tell by the dangerous, cold look in his eyes and the slight purple bruising on her forearm that never seemed to go away. It made my blood boil from the very start, but one thing I knew for sure was that I was going to make sure he wasn't going to hurt her today.
Carol started to get up to follow her husband to wherever he wanted her to go, but then Andrea stepped in again, "I don't think she needs to go anywhere with you." she snapped.
"And I say it's none of your business. Now come on now." he commanded again, growing even more impatient.
Andrea stepped in between the two of them, trying to stop Carol from going with him but all she could do was whisper, "Andrea, it doesn't matter." with a pleading tone to her voice.
The man quickly noticed the way Andrea wasn't backing down and clearly had enough, "Hey," he started, "Don't think I won't knock you on your ass just cause you're some college educated coos."
Andrea looked taken back at his comment as she scoffed but he continued on, "Come on now." he snapped "Or you're going to regret it later."
I slowly started to stand, disregarding the pants that were previously in my hands, watching the interaction get more and more physical. He began reaching around the crowd of women and started to drag her out by her arm as much as he could with the others still trying to stop him from taking her anywhere. I still just stood there waiting. Waiting for him to do something so I had a reason to beat the shit out of him.
He then started screaming inches away from her face as they argued, before slapping Carol across her face, hard enough that it made her cheek start to bleed from the wedding ring on his finger.
At that moment all I could see was red.
Without another thought, I rushed over to Ed and kneeled him in the balls before socking him across the face. He fell down abruptly on his back trying to recover quickly, but I was quicker. I instantly got on top of him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started punching him over and over repeatedly as bruising began to form on his cheeks. His hands came up to tug harshly at my hips as he desperately clawed to get me off of him, though I barely even moved. But then I faltered for a moment as my senses returned, hearing Carol sobbing from behind me for me to stop, causing me to glance back at her for a moment.
Ed quickly took this as his opportunity and punched me across the face in return, harsh enough to send me flying backwards. I landed so hard on my back that I felt myself getting cut up by the tiny rocks beneath me and my head began to pound. He then got on top of me and swung to hit me twice across my face before I kneed him in the stomach harshly, making him tumble over again with a loud groan. I didn't hesitate to stand up slowly again, moving forward with the intention on beating him till he couldn't breathe, but someone's hand quickly pulled me back and stopped me from doing so.
I glanced up to see Shane gently pulling me back, which only made me confused as if he hadn't seen what just unfolded seconds beforehand. But he surprised me by moving towards the man, dragging him farther away by his shirt so he could beat the man himself. I slightly stepped back with a breath, knowing he could easily handle it but that's when I suddenly felt dizzy as my vision slightly blurred. My hands instinctively grabbed onto one of the bigger rocks beside me for some balance before I face planted on the ground.
Amy's eyes seemed to widen as she caught me trying to steady myself, "Woah, you okay?" she asked somewhat frantically.
My hand waved up as I said nothing but brushed her off as if I was fine, but I knew I really wasn't as much as I hated to admit it. My face hurt and I felt like I had a small concussion with how hard I came in contact with the ground.
"If you ever hit Carol, your little girl, Rose, or anyone else in the group I will not stop next time do you hear me?!" Shane suddenly yelled to the beaten man, loud enough for the entire forest to hear.
Ed mumbled a "Yes." with blood pouring out of the gashes on his cheeks, every inch of his face puffy and swollen.
"I'll beat you to death Ed." Shane threatened coldly before punching him once more, finally backing off fully.
As soon as he stepped back far enough, Andrea finally let Carol go as she sprung forward towards his still body lying on the rocks, sobbing and wailing seeing him getting his shit rocked. She apologized profusely, over and over again like somehow the situation was her fault, and somehow that made me feel even more terrible than before. Shane too watched the scene for a moment, before glancing back at me, his eyes widening instantly seeing the state I was in.
And before I could even process it, his long strides made their way over right in front of my face, "Hey, are you alright? Jesus Rose." Shane sighed as he tilted my chin down to try and get a better look at my face.
I glanced up at him, "I'm fine." I said, trying to steady my feet. But it was hard to focus on his face considering there were three of him standing in front of me right now.
"No you're not, come on let's get you fixed up in the RV." he replied.
I normally would have argued, not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing, but I was suddenly too tired to do any of that. My head had its own heartbeat, and my hands shook violently with how much adrenaline running through my system. So I silently accepted his help as he put a hand on my waist to steady me, walking me slowly back towards the camp. Though I couldn't help but slowly look back to see Carol still hovering over Ed's body, crying loudly while the rest watched the two of us walk off. Their faces painted with worry and fear.
We eventually made it back to camp with Lori and Dale instantly on both of our asses, frantically asking question after question about what the hell happened, but I couldn't bring myself to listen. Just trying to focus on staying awake as the RV was just out of reach. Shane didn't hesitate to brush them off however, telling them that he would explain everything later as he continued to help me walk straight.
The two of us finally made it into the vehicle after their voices stopped questioning, feeling the man sit me down on the small sofa gently before moving away for a moment. My eyelids felt heavy as my head kept jerking back up every few seconds, nearly passing out with how much pressure I felt in the front of my head. Shane returned quickly, a first aid kit in his hands as he set it off to the side and dug through it, finally finding the things he was looking for.
The man gently cleaned whatever blood and gashes were left on my face as softly as he could, though even if he added more pressure, I didn't think I would be able to sense it. The feeling is far from what I was able to focus on. The rubbing alcohol did sting the smallest bit and I swore I didn't flinch once it hit my skin, but Shane apologizing under his breath told me otherwise as he continued.
He didn't utter a word about it the whole time, not one word. He just helped clean the gashes on my cheeks before finishing everything with a small smile, noticing how uneasy I looked. The last thing I could remember was him quietly telling me to rest and I wasn't planning on arguing with that as I let my body fall sideways to lay down on the cushions. My eyes shut involuntarily, the last thing I could register was him shutting the RV door quietly behind him as he left me alone.
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A soft groan passed my lips as my eyes fluttered open, wincing a little at the throbbing still present in my head. I hissed under my breath at the feeling, shutting my eyes once more as to almost prepare myself before fully opening them again. I was pretty positive that this was one of the worst concussions I've ever had, but with my luck it probably wouldn't be the last.
Taking a small risk, I sat up slowly as my eyes found the window tucked in the back, seeing it completely dark outside as I tried to figure out how much time had passed. But my thoughts cut short as I quickly realized I wasn't alone. Carl was laying right next to me on the RV floor, reading one of his comic books beside the couch I had planted myself on. Though the moment he saw me sit up his eyes widened and he quickly hopped up to sit next to me.
"Oh my gosh, Rose you're okay!" he exclaimed quietly, hugging me gently as he tried to make sure he wasn't hurting me further.
I winced a little at the impact but couldn't help but smile a genuine smile, the first one in a very long time. It truly warmed my heart that the kid was so happy to see that I was okay, not only that but stayed by my side for who knows how long.
"Hey, I'm okay, I promise." I said to him, beginning to hug him back.
He nodded against my shoulder before pulling away to get a better look at my face up close. His expression changed drastically the second he caught sight of my injuries, happy to upset in a matter of mere seconds. That alone is how I knew I looked like shit.
I instantly noticed his change in mood, "Hey kid, don't worry about me, alright? I'm okay." I said with a nod.
He didn't look convinced but nodded his head anyway with a tiny smile, "Everyone was worried about you. They're all eating outside right now but didn't want to wake you up." he informed me.
This made me wonder what he meant by everyone. Considering how late it looked the thought didn't fail to cross my mind on if the guys were back yet, if they were successful in the city. So I swung my legs over the surface as I gestured for him to follow. "Well I am pretty hungry so let's get some food, yeah?" I asked.
He grew concerned again, "Are you sure? I can bring you some if you don't feel good."
I smiled again, this time one that he could see, "My legs still work. Let's go together." I said.
After I assured him, we stood and made our way out of the vehicle and over towards the fire where the group sat, Carl holding onto me for support if I needed. My eyes silently glanced around the people ahead of us as they all ate some fish and vegetables...well everyone except Ed that was no doubt hiding out in his tent like a baby. And I noticed the guys weren't back yet either.
Everyone turned and noticed I was up and moving, greeting me with smile and double checking that I was feeling okay before quickly handing me a plate of food, offering for me to join into the conversation. They all made my heart warm at their concerns, but a part of me was nervous as I glanced over towards Carol, thinking she would be mad or even yell at me for the things I did, but she did the quite the opposite. She smiled warmly at me and asked how I was feeling, reaching out to touch my arm lightly to make sure I was telling the truth. It made me feel better that I saved her from a beating, and she wasn't mad at me one bit, an invisible weight being lifted off my chest.
But that's when it truly hit me so suddenly, that I cared. I cared not only for Carol but this whole group entirely. I looked around the fire, seeing all the smiling faces, some bringing up old stories and laughing, the sight alone causing me to smile a little right along with them as something clicked in my mind.
It was at that moment I decided I would stay. I'll admit I was wildly skeptical at first, but I needed a group, I needed people to have my back, and the truth was I didn't want to be alone anymore. I was by myself for far too long even before this and having this many people caring about my safety made me feel good. It only took an ass beating to see it, but I finally realized how much I truly wanted to stay.
But my happiness was quickly cut short, being replaced with utter and complete shock when we all suddenly heard Amy scream at the top of her lungs through the quiet night. My head whipped over just in time to see her getting attacked by a walker that seemed to come out of nowhere, about to rip into the side of her neck. Without thinking I immediately stood up and threw my knife in the walker's head, watching it go down instantly with a thud, but Amy was still left crying and bleeding profusely from the bite mark embedded in her skin. Andrea gasped in horror as she ran over to her sister with tears streaming down her face, and I couldn't bear to watch.
Instead I had to snap back into reality when I realized there were tons of walkers everywhere surrounding us, coming out and making themselves known from the tree line. What the actual fuck?
My mouth dropped a little at the sight, staying still as everyone around me began to scream and panic with the amount of dead ones coming at us in record speed. But my attention was pulled away for a moment when I heard my name being called, seeing Shane tossing a shotgun over in my direction that I quickly caught with ease. As soon as the weapon was in my hands I loaded it and fired at the ones coming at me, breathing heavily as I still couldn't seem to process how the hell this all happened so quickly. How everything was ruined within seconds.
I took note of my surroundings and checked to see where everyone was the moment I knew I was clear, and it seemed like they were safe as they stuck together so I kept shooting, watching the walkers fall one by one. Although after only a few seconds, my gun clicked as it ran out of ammo fast and I cursed under my breath as I discarded it, starting to take out my knives to hit the walkers instead. I only had six so I had to make them count.
I took out a walker that was just feet away from me, and ripped it back out of its head just before its body fell to the ground. Then I heard another loud and piercing scream and my heart dropped seeing it was Carol. She was trying to protect her daughter from a walker coming right at them with a giant stick she had found on the ground but was failing miserably.
I instantly ran over to them, nearly tripping over a few rocks as I chucked my knife towards the corpse, hitting it directly in the back of its head before it had the chance of grabbing them. Carol saw me and smiled with tears in her eyes as she thanked me over and over again. I only nodded at her breathlessly and went back to killing as many as I could. One after another, after another they fell to the ground, coating the dirt below us as they seemed to pile up. And the numbers didn't stop, not for a second as many more emerged themselves from the trees.
But my stomach flipped as I suddenly heard a snarl from right behind my head, whipping around in time to see a walker sneaking up on me and shoving me down harshly to the ground. I gasped in surprise as my hands immediately went to its shoulders, trying to keep it away from me as its jaw was snapping towards the side of my neck. A loud, frustrated groan left my lips as I tried desperately to reach to where I dropped my knife, only being able to barely brush my fingertips against the handle as it was just out of reach. My chest heaved as my arms struggled, trying to keep the dead weight off of me as its face seemed to only get closer to my skin.
Though all of a sudden, the body fell limp against me, and I was able to finally shove its cold and heavy body off of me as I caught my breath. I then noticed when I slowly stood up from the ground there was a familiar bolt piercing the back of its head. My eyes then trailed up to see Daryl running up to me in a flash. They were back.
He stopped in front of me, his eyes scanning my body looking for any bites or scratches. "You good?" he asked, slightly out of breath.
"Yeah," I nodded "I'm good...you?"
He nodded once and didn't waste another second before turning back to shoot any walkers that were left with his heavy weapon.
After a few more long minutes of gunshots and screams, all of the walkers were dead, the only sound now filling the air was Andrea sobbing over the loss of her sister. I looked over at her and guilt washed over me at just the sight of her cradling the back of her head close to her, moving the hair from her face. I was kicking myself as I wish I had gotten to that walker sooner, maybe I could've saved her. But it all happened way too fast.
My adrenaline slowly started to wear off and my head started pounding again just in the back of my skull, annoying and painful. I stood back and watched as everyone hugged their loved ones, making sure they were okay as they tried to ignore all the bodies on the floor.
The next thing I knew, a body was colliding with mine, pulling me into a tight hug as I instantly tensed at the contact. I wanted to shove them off of me, but once I realized it was Glenn and I kept my mouth shut, patting his chest awkwardly. He held me impossibly close as his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, pulling away from me after a moment to make sure I was alright and got a good look at my face. His eyes seemed to widen upon seeing how beat up I was.
"Jesus Christ Rose, what happened to your face?" he asked worriedly.
I brushed it off with a wave of my hand, "I had a little disagreement with Ed, it's not big deal I'm fine." I muttered as I looked away from his gaze.
"You don't look fine," he protested, "What happened?"
"Look, I took a beating instead of Carol, alright? But don't worry, he looks worse than I do." I said, smiling enough to show that I was telling the truth.
He sighed but didn't ask any more questions and I appreciated that. He placed an arm around my shoulders as we looked around at all of the bodies surrounding the camp, the blood melting into the ground below our feet.
My eyes then landed on Daryl when I felt someone watching me from my right, and our eyes locked again. He was scanning my face and looked really pissed off as his ragged breaths filled the air from exhaustion. I couldn't really tell why he was mad however, it could be because of a lot of things. Was it because our camp was just attacked? Or because he had to save my ass? Maybe it was because of the talk I had with him earlier, I wasn't too sure.
I just stared back at him and for some reason I gave him a small smile seeing he made it back okay. He looked taken aback that I did, but after that he just looked away abruptly like he had been just burned.
It took a few hours for people to process what just happened around what we assumed was a safe place, everyone still scared out of their minds at the possibility of some still lurking in the shadows. But after taking the time to calm down at least a little, the guys then informed us what happened when they went after Merle. They trailed back up to the roof where they had left him, but only found that he had cut off his hand to get out of the cuffs and escape. Though they were convinced he was still alive since the truck they had taken with them, was suddenly gone by the time they got back down to it, explaining why they were so late returning back.
They also told us that these random guys showed up and wanted our guns, taking Glenn in the process, but in the end it all turned out to be a giant misunderstanding. I was just glad everyone made it back okay, and just in time to help us out with the disaster that unfolded. Well...besides Merle I mean. But the missing truck just meant that he had to be alive. But the part I couldn't quite get over was him cutting off his own hand to escape, and the guys seemed to brush past it like it was nothing. Meanwhile, as they're telling us all this I'm trying to re-swallow the food I had just eaten not too long ago.
After their little story hour, explaining every single detail for an extended period of time, I finally got the chance to slip away to get some sleep. My body felt tired and weak, rest being the only thing I wanted more than anything. I began gathering my stuff with the intention to just head off on my own for the night, but paused my movements as I saw Rick approaching me.
His steps were slow and awkward, though I could tell he looked a little worried, "Hey...you alright?" he asked me.
I nodded as I finished strapping my bag on my shoulders, "I'm good."
"I just heard what happened with Ed, and I wanted to make sure." he informed with a gesture of his hand.
I only nodded once more as I turned my back to him to head back off into the forest. Not to escape, but to get some much needed sleep.
But he spoke again, "Are you leaving?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"No." I said simply and walked off into the forest.
Though I had trouble falling asleep that night, tossing and turning as I couldn't get over the fact that Amy died right in front of me. In front of all of us. I felt extremely guilty, thinking I could've done more to help her at that moment, when the truth was, I did everything I could. In the back of my mind I knew that. My head was also killing me on top of that and I couldn't seem to get comfortable, so I just sat there for most of the night thinking; which never seemed to be a good thing.
Tomorrow was going to be a bitch.
~ Thanks for reading!
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stupd000 · 2 months
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My typed reaction of Vegas BA bc everyone’s asleep
I love the guy who checks us in
Oh um don’t call me pet
Ermmmmm
Okay don’t like it so far
aw shucks i missed you too boo
no i will not come closer
ew no go away
oh nvm ig we are
wait so are we the dog or is he
okay this is getting boring
can we fuck now
oh wait nvm this is hot
oh WE’RE the puppy
that’s um
okay
is he calling me special
no i’m not ready to play VEGA.
i have a feeling we’re not alone
or we are
idk
okay we got some vouyers
that’s erm
okay
don’t call me pet
weirdo
excitement? no honey i’m scared
yes fear
ok can we fuck now
damn he talks a lot
stop echoing
oh don’t call me pup
oh this is some like
kinky kinky shit
how big is Vega
just in general cuz i thought he was like
6,1 and scrawny
um no my breath is oxygen not yours
this is definitely um
yeah
correct circumstances?
wardrobe?? bitch what is this Narnia
DONT CALL ME A PUPPY THATS WEIRD
i’m kink shaming
I am not getting on all fours what the fuck
oh nvm ig we are
this is uncomfortable
TAIL????
this is some furry shit
UM ..!
NO I WILL NOT CRAWL
WHATTTTTT
ASS?
SLUT???
this would be hot if i wasn’t a fucking dog
don’t shush me bitch
are we still on all fours
that’s mad embarrassing
i am not yours
weirdo
I’d rather you not take care of me
this is very um
interesting!!
Do we have dignity
STOP CALLING ME PUPPY YOU FURRY
do we have any pride at all like oh my god
GRINDING???
Don’t slut shame me bitch
arching????????
oh my god.
CUM HUNGRY LITTLE BITCH????
if he says puppy one more time i’m killing myself
if he puts a fucking collar on me i’ll jump
stop
STOPPP
Dog tag is crazy
“property of vega” NO.
Stop vega this is not a joke
DO WE HAVE NO SENSE OF DIGNITY
OH MY GODDDD
PROUD??? I AM NOT PROUD
OWNER???
I’m jumping off a ledge
MY HOLE?? WHICH ONE I HAVE LIKE 3
Okay stop slut shaming me Vega
ROLL OVER???
i’m insanely uncomfortable
by the way guys i made chicken alfredo today
Anyway
i hate his fucking tone
don’t take that attitude w me bitch
DO NAWTTT CALL ME A WHORE EVER AGAIN.
oh wait he called me pretty nvm
this is insane
it’s 2:30 am i cannot handle this
okay so we archin
PUT WHAT IN
WHAT IS GOING IN
this is strange
CALLING UR DICK A TREAT IS WILDDD
oh my god no
stop.
A TAIL???
NO
NO NO NO NO
NO
NO
no wait cuz there was this one kid who wore a butt plug tail to school it was crazy bc a guy pulled it out
anyway
This is some furry shit
not that there’s anything wrong w that live ur truth
STRETCHING???
the plug is insane
stop
i’m actually sobbing this is NOT OKAY.
what position are they in im so confused
SHAKE WHAT ASS
UMMMMMMMMM
this is peculiar
Vega is a furry
i hate this
i hate this sm
I STILL HAVE 10 MINS LEFT
LORD SAVE ME
okay no need to take that tone Vega😒
bitch we can’t breathe wtf
no i wont whine around that tootsie roll u call a dick
AHHH THE NOISESSS
okay can u not choke me
don’t call me a slut you cunt
oh my god hurry up vega
ew
I don’t love anything about this
this is insane
NOT A PERSON????
RUDEEEEEEEE
okay adjective king
ew don’t call me that
i am not licking the floor sir
i am not licking your boot either
lick your own fucking boot
this is actually pissing me off he’s annoying
are we almost done
Do we have no sense of shame
like at all
second hand embarrassment
okay are we done
no? okay
ew don’t call ur self master
that’s not..
okay
um
the growling is insane
damn right i’m divine
ew don’t call the that
not the baby voice
stop this madness
what do you want from me WHAT DO U WANNTTTT
okay are we done
TWITCHING?????? INSANE.
That was horrible
27 notes · View notes