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enviedear · 5 months

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jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

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novelconcepts · 11 months

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There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #yj meta #long post #shauna shipman #lottie matthews #taissa turner #van palmer #misty quigley #natalie scatorccio #the question not being how do you survive the wilderness. the question being how do you come BACK.#the way each of them tries so hard to keep moving forward #unable to untangle the girl in the woods from the adult suffering in polite society #how the world doesn’t want to hear about the pain or the night terrors or the sleepwalking or the addiction #the world wants the bright colors and the flash-bang headlines #the world doesn’t want who they are. who they had to be. it wants pretty perfect tragedy #that specialized environment lives on in each one of them every day #but it’s not a place anyone else can ever go #how do you feed that for so long and then just…stop?#constantly thinking about nat saying we didn’t make it out. none of us.#because no. no they didn’t. the girls died the minute that rescue chance did. what came back was risen from those ashes

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

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can i request a tav x astarion where tav is mute? i wonder how they would be communicating

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I really struggled with this request, but I decided to try again on a whim and whoooo boy it's a doozy. I also did not make Tav mute, but I played with a Paladin oath I have had on my mind for a looong time so they are effectively mute

Warnings: fear of death, blood, mentions of death/dead bodies, religion, anxiety, fear, being trapped, crying, swearing, angst, hurt/little comfort, possibly OOC

Word Count: 3,624

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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You huff in annoyance for the fifth- no, sixth, time. Perhaps more. The vendor stares at you as though you’re insane, even though you couldn’t possibly be clearer! You exaggerate further, pointing at the potion, yourself, and your coin purse. If he would just mark how much the damn thing cost, you wouldn’t have to keep going through this!

Astarion sighs sharply. “They want to buy the potion,” he bemoans. “Now, please, tell them the price so we can move on.”

The vendor starts with wide eyes and realization on his face. He flushes from his cheeks, down his neck, and to the tips of his ears as he stutters out the price. You shove the money into his chest and grab what you’ve paid for, before stomping off. And if Astarion slipped an extra something in his pocket while the vendor was dying of his stupidity, who would really care?

He caught up in a few long strides. “We must find a better way for you to communicate, darling. I can’t keep translating for you.”

You made a few sharp gestures.

“I don’t see the big deal in carrying a paper and pencil around,” he answered with a scoff. “Or, you know, you could just speak. I know you can.”

You glared at him. That, he didn’t need a translator for.

This had been an ongoing argument from the very moment you ran into each other on the beach. When he had you pinned to the ground and you didn’t speak, he originally thought you were just being stubborn. When he finally let you go, you’d explained to him (in writing) that you’d made an oath of silence, and that you had nothing to do with the Illithid kidnappings.

Fortunately, you discovered early on that some hand signs were shared with the Theive’s Cant, which he understood quite well. When Gale and Wyll came along, one who’d learned some sign through books and the other who learned by helping people as the Blade of Frontiers, Astarion was relieved he wouldn’t have to translate for you. Except, you continued to drag him along to act as the middle man anyway.

His solution, proposed frequently both seriously and in jest, was to break your oath. An oath of silence was a ridiculous thing to promise anyway, especially now that you needed to communicate so frequently, but any time the suggestion was posed, you’d just level him with a hard stare.

“You know I can’t do that,” you signed, annoyed.

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Paladins. So dedicated to the chains that bind them.”

“To break my oath would be to lose my powers. Do you want me to keep reviving your ass during battle or not?”

He sneered. “You couldn’t make an oath of vengeance or something? It would certainly be a lot easier to follow through on.”

You rolled your eyes and walked faster. You hated arguing about your oath. Wyll and Gale wouldn’t behoove you for it - so why did you bring him along, he wonders.

Astarion heaved, pressing against a stitch in his side that tightened with each breath. The fight was brutal. Everyone was bloody and exhausted. Shadowheart turned from the dead beast before them to help Wyll who lay prone on the ground. Karlach pulled her mighty axe from its head with a squelch and a crunch, cheering at the victory.

He chuckled breathlessly at her antics. Almost stumbling, he turned in a circle, eyes scanning the battlefield. The beast’s cronies lay still, scattered everywhere. Blood overwhelmed his senses. How did that saying go? Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

He frowned. He looked around again. “Where’s Tav?”

Karlach’s whoops quieted immediately. She looked around as well. “They didn’t get crushed under this,” she kicked the creature in the eye, “did they?”

He shook his head. “They weren’t close enough…” He growled, frustrated, and turned to the magic-users. “Did you see where Tav went?”

Shadowheart supported Wyll as he sat up, groaning. They both shook their heads. “Last I saw them, they were over there,” the warlock croaked, nodding over to the side. “But I don’t know how long I’ve been down for.”

Astarion winced as he jogged over to where he said, stepping over and on top of dead bodies. He took another step. His foot did not collide with floor nor flesh. His heart lurched as the world fell out from under him. A hand grabbed the neck his armor and pulled him back, falling on his ass onto solid ground.

“Careful, Fangs!” Karlach chastised worriedly. She let him go, pulling them both to their feet and brushing him off. “You alright?”

His mind was still reeling. He nodded in a daze. All he could do was stare at the nearly-invisible chasm he’d almost fallen down into… And then his mind caught up.

He raced forward again, dopping to his knees right before the tear in the earth, and leaned over it. Even his darkvision couldn’t help him see what was below; it was so dark, like all light that fell into it was swallowed up. A heavy weight settled in his chest.

“Tav?!” he shouted down into the darkness. His voice echoed. He had no idea how deep it went.

The realization set in for Karlach as well. “Oh fuck…”

“Tav, are you down there?!” He waited a moment, but he was met with only silence.

Shadowheart and Wyll rushed over. They peered into the deep with concern. Astarion shifted so he sat on the ground, legs dangling over the edge. He remembered the feeling of falling. Fortunately, he couldn’t see how deep it was, so at least vertigo did not make it seem deeper; the shadow was doing a perfect job of that on its own.

Wyll grabbed his shoulder before he could slide forward. “Astarion, we have no idea how deep it goes, or what’s down there! You could be impaled on a spike before you ever make it to the bottom. We don’t know if they’re even alive!”

“And if they are?” he growled. “They could be trapped down there with no way of telling us.”

“And you’ll be trapped down there if you go after them!”

He couldn’t argue with anything logical. So what if he got stuck down there? He needed to know you were okay. His blunt nails dig into the stone edge, knocking loose flecks of rock and sediment. How could he just leave you down there?

Shadowheart looked around at the bodies. “We could make some rope. Lower it down, see if they grab on.”

He snorted mirthlessly, sneering at the cleric. “And if they’re too injured to?”

She glared back at him. “I don’t see you proposing any better ideas.”

Karlach and Wyll shared a look. It seems they’d have to be the level-headed ones here… “We can strip the bodies. Tie their clothes together until it’s long enough.” To hopefully reach the bottom, was left unsaid.

Karlach and Shadowheart got to work immediately, working to remove the clothes of their fallen enemies, scrunching their noses in disgust all the while. Wyll squeezed Astarion’s shoulder and joined them, trying to decide what clothes were in good enough condition to hold weight. Astarion stared into the pit for a while longer.

Your head spun. Everything ached. Each breath was like fire in your lungs. You bit your lip to silence your whimpers, biting down so hard you could taste iron in your mouth.

As the pain ebbs to a manageable level, you try to figure out where you were. It was dark. You couldn’t make out your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t even be sure your eyes were open. You only knew they were when you looked up and saw light coming from far above you. It was dim and flickering - the flames of the braziers that lined the battlefield.

You blinked into the darkness, willing your eyes to adjust. Cautiously, you reached out your hands and felt around. The ground beneath you was covered in fine gravel, almost like sand. The finer sediment stuck to your hands when you pulled away. There was a wall behind you, possibly made from slate. It would be impossible to climb. With a muffled groan, you’re able to reach your foot out and touch the opposite wall. The effort leaves you panting.

You lay still on the floor for a minute. Clearly, you fell from quite high up. How far was still a mystery, but the fact was you did fall. When you’ve caught your breath, you feel for any injuries. Your armor restricts you, but it seems to have protected you for the most part. You’ll be bruised as hell, but you can’t find any open wounds. At least you were fortunate there.

You look up again. You can’t hear anything coming from above, but you’re unsure if it’s from the depth of the chasm or because the battle is over. You hope they are able to win the fight without you. All your companions are strong in their own right, you know they can pull through this.

You squint at the opening above. You think you see something moving at the top, but it’s merely a speck. Using the wall and gathering your waning strength, you push yourself to your feet. You heave as you lean against the slate. The silhouette is still too far away to make out.

T..av….

A distant cry, distorted heavily by the chasm. It takes a moment for you to recognize it as your name. Your heart leaps in your chest.

… av….. Ar… d..wn… the..re…

You can’t tell who’s calling down to you, but you take faith in the knowledge it must be one of your companions. The beasts wouldn’t know your name. Now you just have to signal them somehow…

You feel around your body for your sword, but the sheath is empty. It must have fallen elsewhere, perhaps only feet away, but you can’t see worth a damn. You try instead to cast a ball of light. It should be easy - it’s a spell you’ve cast a hundred times before. But as you strain to conjure even a spark, you become lightheaded. Your knees buckle, collapsing you back to the gritty floor. You try again, but you can feel your energy being sapped away. Your hand falls weakly to the ground.

You rest your head back against the wall and think. You can’t use your sword to hit the rock and make a sound, or defend yourself if something lurks within the darkness. You can’t cast a light, nor any other spell, lest you fall completely unconscious and make your chances worse. The more options you run out of, the more desperate you become. You try reaching out to their tadpoles, but they must be too far away.

You’re stuck.

A sob chokes you as it forces its way up your throat. Even that is muffled by you, by pure habit at this point. You’ve held your oath for years; you’ve learned how to stay silent even under the worst situations. Now it’s come to bite you in the ass.

You look up at the dim light, blurred through tears. They burn as they just keep coming. Your lip quivers as you quietly gasp for air. You’re going to die down here.

Your last option, you’ve already dismissed before it fully forms. You could break your oath, call up to them, cry out for help with the last of your strength. But to do that would leave you even more helpless than before. To speak was to lose your powers. Your god would rip them away in a heartbeat, until you plead for forgiveness; pray for hours and hours to swear your allegiance and dedication once more.

A slave to the chains that bind you.

But what choice do you have?

You try to catch your breath, slow the hiccups and sobs down until you can fill your lungs with air. You open your mouth, try to form the words, but it comes out as a weak sound, almost a poor facsimile of a donkey’s bray. You haven’t spoken for years, to do so now was an astronomical feat. You feel the burn of your god’s eyes as they watch you actively work to break your oath.

You try to speak again. You form an h sound, but it’s so quiet, it’s hardly enough to be considered speaking. You need to shout. You need to let your friends know you are alive down here. Anxiety grips your heart as you imagine being left down here alone, left to starve to death, or worse.

You swallow. You have to do this. You can do this.

“H..e..lp,” you croak out, a mere whisper. It’s raspy and breathy, but it’s a word. You feel your power being sapped away. You nearly sob again. Your god would abandon you down here. An unfeeling master who only craves loyalty. Astarion was right.

You take another deep breath and try harder. “H-elp..!” It’s still a strained rasp, but you hear it begin to echo off the walls. Louder. It needs to be louder. You cup your hands around your mouth. “Help!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the burning in your throat. “HELP!”

Astarion’s hands are raw from tying knots. Karlach will bring him big piles at a time, plopping them down beside him, and he’d add them all onto the already-quite-long rope. It was perhaps 30 feet long by now, but he wasn’t confident it would reach.

Wyll sighed, exhausted. “We’re almost out of clothes, my friend.”

Astarion doesn’t look up, barely paying attention to the warlock enough to tell him to keep working. Calluses on his hands open and turn into blisters. He winces with each knot he pulls tight. But he won’t stop. How can he?

Shadowheart sighs as she pulls the pants off another corpse. She’s seen far more anatomy in one hour than she ever wished to again. Karlach sits down by the pile and pulls the other end of the rope into her lap. She begins working to tie more on.

They work silently, but rather efficiently. In another minute, the rope has grown considerably longer. Blood begins to stain Astarion’s end.

“Fangs, maybe you should take a break.” He shakes his head, frowning as he grabs a robe off the pile. Karlach is about to insist, get Wyll or Shadowheart to take over, when a sound comes from the pit. Astarion drops everything and scrambles over as fast as he can.

He tilts his head, facing his ear down into the depths. And he listens…

H..E..LP!

He immediately shouts down into the hole. “We’re going to get you out!” He rushes back to his feet and to the rope. The others drop their half-naked corpses, and Karlach finishes tying one last knot. They help Astarion drag it over to the pit, all lining up to hold onto the end, though, to be honest, Karlach will be doing most of the heavy lifting. He guides the end over the edge, and hurriedly lowers it down. He wants to throw it in, but he’d rather not throw somebody else over the edge with the sudden weight.

He’s knelt right on the edge, wide eyes staring, searching into the dark. He has no idea how close they are to you, or even if it’s long enough. He hopes your god is merciful enough to play with fate.

“Find the rope!” He shouts down. He hopes his voice is reaching you. “We’ll lift you up!”

It’s too quiet for too long. If his heart still beat, it would be racing faster than a rabbit’s on the run. Dread builds up, heavy and unpleasant, in his chest instead. Did you pass out? Was the rope long enough? Would he have to slide down and carry you back up? What was taking you so damn long?!

He’s a second away from removing his armor to climb down when the rope shifts, being tugged by something down in the darkness. He can only hope it’s you. He scrambles to his feet and gets in front of Karlach, grabs hold of the rope with bloody fingers, and begins pulling you from the pit.

Somehow they manage to work as a unit. He’s scrambling to pull you out as fast as possible, but Karlach manages to get him to slow down. If they could do long pulls, they could drag you out faster with less work. He worries his lip between his teeth. Each knot that slips over the edge adds to his anxiety. He’s waiting for the moment it reaches the end and nothing is there. He can only take solace in the fact he can feel your weight holding on. Gods, he thinks desperately, just keep holding on.

After an eternity of pulling, a hand reaches over the ledge. Karlach makes up for his absence when he lets go and falls to his knees at the edge. He reaches in and wraps his hands under your arms, heaving you up and, finally, back on solid ground. He pulls you solidly into his arms, sliding back away from the edge. He’s sick and tired of chasms.

You’re no longer wearing your armor, and your weapons belt is gone, too. Fine, black dirt sticks to your clothes and hands, and even smears across your face, washed away by a stream of tears. He wipes them away with one hand; he can’t give a damn about the blood he leaves in its place.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes. You sob as fall forward, your head landing solidly against his shoulder. Your whole body trembles and shudders with each cry. He’s disconcerted by the sound of your voice, no longer purposefully muffled. He threads his fingers into your hair, holding you to him. “Shh. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

If your body ached at the bottom of the pit, now you couldn’t even think about moving. Astarion had carried you as far as he could and then some, until Karlach had to take you from his arms before he dropped you. Even then, he stayed right by her side, watching you anxiously.

Back at camp, Shadowheart healed what she could, but most of her energy was spent during the fight. Haslin took over, but even the best he could do would have you bruised and in pain for the next few days. He went into the woods for ingredients to make a soothing balm.

Wyll helped you drink water, and Gale helped you drink some broth, to hold you over until he could make dinner proper. Lae’zel rifled through your veritable hoard of supplies to find you some suitable armor and weapons, and worked to sharpen and polish them.

When you were finally given the chance to rest, Astarion carried you from your bedroll into his tent, laying you down on his own bedroll. He provided as many pillows as you wished, as many blankets as you could ever ask for. He gathered a bowl of water and a fresh cloth and worked to clean the grime off your face.

You watched blankly, too emotionally and physically exhausted to process much. He passed the cloth over your forehead. It was blessedly cool, but the flash of red that crossed your vision could not be ignored.

Arms like lead, you willed a hand to grab his, stopping him mid-swipe. He winced as you pried the cloth from his hand, where it dropped wetly onto your neck, and ran your thumb along his palm. Blisters and blood covered every inch, skin torn and peeling in places. Without even thinking, you try casting a spell to heal him.

Whereas before, when you tried to cast a spell, you could feel it draining your energy from you, now you just felt nothing. It was like dipping a bucket into a well and coming up empty. There is no more magic within you to fuel a spell. Tears prick at your eyes again.

Astarion sighs, long and low. “You don’t have your magic.”

It takes far too much effort to even shake your head. You take a breath, and through the rasping pain, you speak. “They… took it away when… I called for help…” You swallow thickly. Your voice was foreign to you.

It was foreign to Astarion, too. He could recognize the way you signed, the slight variations of years of experience against Gale’s book-perfect signing or even Wyll’s slower, more purposeful movements. He associated it with you so strongly. To hear you speak was like watching a ventriloquist put on a show.

A bitter feeling took hold within him. Just like all gods, all masters, all people with power to laud over another, you were abandoned in your darkest hour, by someone you spent so long dedicated to. Prayers, offerings at alters, your faithful silence - it would never be enough, not to a god who always craved more.

But now isn’t the time to say I told you so. Gently, he removes his hand from your grasp. Your hand flops back to your side. He takes the cloth from where it rested at your neck, re-wets it, and continues cleaning your face.

He doesn’t say anything as he wipes away your tears, catching them before they have a chance to slide down to your ears. When the sobs choke you, he helps you drink some water. When your sorrow lulls you to sleep, he tucks you in and stays by your side, a faithful argus.

---

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alexisomnias · 1 year

Text

WHEN YOUR GONE. . . | obey me

obey me nightbringer spoilers

characters | BROTHERS

they return home, a sunken feeling moving along with them as their home feels much more empty. Despite the attendant never living with them, it feels as if a room lost its shine that kept the home lifted. they go to the bedroom to mourn for the loss of a friend who they've known for no longer then a week (yet it feels like years).

LUCIFER "Hopefully you found me helpful from time to time? Don't push yourself too hard "big brother."

lucifer finds himself staring at your writing, it was clearly handled with care, perhaps even written with a shaky hand. he finds himself doing nothing other then staring, he can't even reread it as if his throat was choked up for good. lucifer, who thought your position as attendant was nothing other then stupid found his heart slow to if he didn't know better would be a stop. he did... he did find you helpful... his eyes close as he leans his head back and takes a deep breath, as if to stop tears.

why must you of done this too him? why couldn't you just leave with a goodbye that he would forget come hundreds year?

MAMMON "Thank you for always thinking of me. I always had fun when we were together."

mammon prided himself in his ability to hold his emotions, but after his eyes came across the last letter, reading each syllable as if it was his first time he lets out a sob. clutching the letter in his hand as if all of you would disappear if he ever let it go. you were cruel, he thinks, so cruel for leaving him alone like this. he sobs quietly leant over the desk as he sobs into his arms, why did he always get attached to things that would soon leave him? you don't realize, that even after your gone. your memories, even the happiest ones will leave him thinking of you as left pain.

his heart aches for you already, he wants to continue to be together, he wants you back.

LEVIATHAN "Make sure to take good care of Snake, okay? I know you'll make an amazing demon !!"

it took a lot for leviathan to even build up the courage to exit the comfort of his own room. without you there by his side, what will be there to help him navigate around? you've been barely gone for 3 days and yet it feels as if you've been missing from his side for centuries. curse him for getting attached, curse the universe for making you the friend that leaves for his own character development. he sniffles, rereading the text over and over. he let out an ugly cry, uncaring for if the world outside saw it.

how could he be the amazing demon you claim him to be, without you by his side to reassure?

SATAN "Someday we should both go bookstore hopping! You're fine just the way you are Satan."

he doesn't know why you left, but dear lord is he so angry. at the world, at his brothers for allowing you to leave, at himself for not being there to tell you he needs you. satan doesn't cry, satan doesn't even rage out in anger as he reads your letter. he stares, and he stares until a figurative hole could be burnt through the crisp paper left in your place. the only memory left of you for you weren't there for long. why couldn't he be there to see you leave? send you off? why was he the one stuck under the impression you would come back for him, until you didn't?

did you even realize that you were the reason he felt like he belonged in this world?

ASMODEUS "Looking forward to the next Asmo Night! I love you! more then words can say!

asmo loves you more then words exist, thats why he needs you by his side, thats why he needs you there to remind him of why he's deserving, of why he deserves to be happy like the others. asmo needs you more then words can say, he lets out a quiet cry, almost silent as tears drip down his porcelain face. clutching his own note close to his body. why did you have to leave so early? why did you have to leave him so abruptly after carving your place in his heart?

he trusts in the fact that you will return, maybe its denial, or trust, but he believes you'll be back for him.

BEELZEBUB "Be careful not to eat too much! Keep your brothers safe, okay?"

beelzebub did not cry, but he did mourn. how could he always lose those he grows to care for? all in such a short time? he swears he would starve if it meant you'd come back, he'd never complain about hunger again if you'd be back to tell him off, back to make him breakfast out of food he's unfamiliar with. he clutches the note strong enough that if he tried it would rip, but he'd never destroy a memory of you.

beel wants to keep his family safe, but as their attendant, that includes you, he wants you safe as well.

BELPHEGOR "Someday I'll buy you the ultimate alarm clock. I adore that happy look you have while asleep."

Belphegor was the last of the brothers to visit your room, as if he contemplated for days of whether it would be a good idea. belphie despised humans, and you being a human would of included that, wouldn't it? but yet, he can't find himself to hate you. you helped him, helped beel instead of hurt. all the other notes were gone, so the sole one laid upon your empty desk. he stared down on it, in a slow process, his stone face crumpled, melted into tears as it dripped onto he page. his hands clenched up as he cried. falling to his knees as he allowed himself to sob against the desk. your letter lying dead in front of him.

did he really need an alarm clock when his attendant was there to wish him a good morning?

#obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #angst #obey me angst #obey me nightbringer spoilers #suns pencil.

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 9 months

Text

A DC X DP #18

You want a taste of my brain? Okay, it's yours anyway.

Imagine dis…

This time I get inspiration from an A03 fic, and some of its parts just stuck with me and now I’m writing about it, if some of you want to read it go for it. If you are asking for the name don’t ask, I am not going to sell my soul to the devil to find it in my ever-growing history. If you do manage to find it, kudos to them.

TELL ME I AM GETTING DESPERATE OVER HERE

Credits to them as well. Also, as you’ve noticed I decided to post less, now it is due to a good old lack of inspiration. So, don’t go getting your hopes up on this one.

…

Ever since Danny Phantom had become the Ghost King he repeatedly entered the reincarnation cycle willingly to retain his morals when he was human. He still retained his ability to stay in the middle of life and death. But when he as the High King of the Infinite Realms gained immortality he found himself losing his ideals and values, he began forgetting. With Clockwork’s insistence, every few hundred years he would become human to experience a lifetime. Sometimes he would go another round in the same dimension, but only when he needed to finish an unfinished business.

Sometimes he is lucky sometimes he is not.

Sometimes he would be born into a loving family with either as the only child or him having siblings. He has experienced the life of royalty as the heir prince. He experienced the life of a knight who was known for his skills with the sword. He was born into a normal family which made him second guesses his every choice due to his lack of normality in his life. He was also born into some wild dimensions that of which could look like it came from a book. From wizards and sci-fi worlds, he never had the time to sit and be an extra.

But there were also times he was born far too unlucky.

He was born in a salve ridden society, a parent who were core members of a rebellion so when his current parents died, he was expected to be like his parents. Born in a society where the rich trample the poor and he was forced into early child labor as expected in society to work at a very young age. Born where he and the people around him had never seen peace in a war-consumed country, a war that separated his family from each other not knowing whether one is alive or not, leaving only him and his siblings to stay alive. Being abandoned by a pair of druggies for his parents left alone inside a dumpster and died in the middle of the night, looking through the dimension he saw that some homeless people found his body and reported it to the authorities leaving his parents in jail while some prisoners seem to leave them at the near bottom of the hierarchy in prison.

…

It seems this time he was born in an assassin cult this time he wasn’t alone. A twin, an older sibling that was with him in the womb and both came into the world together. The moment he laid his eyes on his grandfather he can already tell that he is a major fruit loop from the way he both look at both of them.

His name is too formal for his liking, Dylan Al Ghul, he already convinced Damian to call him Danny when it was just the two of them. Danny tries to downplay his abilities both ghost and human seeing that his grandfather is too power-hungry to the point of misusing ectoplasm that is corrupted but still ectoplasm to achieve some sort of immortality, he tried to give Damian a childhood in the form of showing him the stars whenever he could sneak him outside. He saw the absolute worship and awe Damian would give to their mother and their grandfather whenever they visit or supervised their training, Danny didn’t care for their approval nor their presence but seeing his brother seem to at awe and do anything to please the two made his heart shatter, his older brother never needed to prove anyone something.

Danny has repeatedly shown his disdain for the two most powerful people in the organization yet it is a miracle he still lives. It is because he is a spare, a spare yes not the heir but a useful spare one, twins one who specialized in stealth and espionage a twin who is a perfect copy of Damian aside from his eyes mirroring their supposed father. Both Talia and Ra seem to make it their life mission to drill his only purpose in his head, it may have never worked due to his adult mind but he pretended it would be as to not raise any suspicion.

…

The day Deathstroke attacked not only he dared to kill the demon head but also choose to kill the chosen heir, by removing an eye and some of his organs as a form of slow torture but also killing him as he made the organs unable to go back to their owner’s body.

Danny couldn’t look away from his bloodied brother, Talia slowly approached him from behind and put her hands on his shoulder, and whispered some honeyed words on how his role as the spare will be fulfilled at a much earlier date and promptly injected with a sleeping drug.

…

Danny was already awake when he noticed the cold metal bed behind him the lack of clothes as well the number of doctors seemingly in a rush to prepare for a last-minute surgery. He saw the unconscious form of Damian on the other side and suddenly heard the loud ticking noise of a grandfather’s clock.

It seems that it was meant to be, Danny thought as an image of Clockwork flashed in his mind.

He fell back asleep knowing that Damian lost an eye, kidney, a lung, some ribs as well an ungodly amount of blood, possibly more. Danny knew that this vessel of his wouldn’t survive at the sheer need and he already felt that he would not leave the room alive. So, he took one last peek at the sleeping Damian and promptly closed his eyes, the moment he opened his eyes once again he was back in his chambers in the Infinite Realms clutching his left eye in his face whilst looking at the mirror as he felt his eye be the first one to be removed.

It seems this time he died months before he and his brother celebrated their 10th birthday.

…

Damian woke up with a pounding headache being the assassin he is he immediately looked around seeing that his last memory is being tortured by Deathstroke.

He immediately took notice of his loose clothing and tried to walk towards the door but his knees immediately gave out. As he tries to gain his bearings, he noticed a scar right in the middle of his chest, it couldn’t be from the time when he was captured by Deathstroke as he noticed that this scar is too clean, too sterilized as if someone had just come out of a surgery type of scar. As he tries to loosen his shirt to take a better look at his scar when he noticed a mirror facing his way and noticed his eyes, instead of his usual pair of emerald eyes he was greeted with an emerald eye of his own and his brother’s icy blue eye in his left eye.

Damian remembered that Deathstroke took out his eye, as according to him it reminded him of the Demon head, and decided to promptly pull it out with his bare hands.

Dread began to fill his very being and tried to go and look for his brother but deep down he already knew what happened to him after all, he is the heir while his brother his beloved younger brother is just a spare.

…

When Damian had met his father’s wards most of them commented on his heterochromia eyes and promptly greeted back with his sword in their faces.

The rest grumbled that Damian couldn’t take a tease or two, but immediately chased the demon brat as he chases each and one of them with the intent to kill.

Damian couldn’t tell them; another son was hidden from Bruce. Another son he had failed, another son who died before they could even meet him.

From the first few interactions he had with his father when he first met him, he knew where his brother’s bleeding heart came from.

Sometimes he could still see him, Dyl- no Danny, every time he looks in the mirror. The constant reminder that his brother was seen by the league as nothing but a spare. Whatever love he had for his mother disappeared the moment he laid his sight at his brother’s eye embedded in his supposed empty eye socket.

The constant reminder that shows every time he looks at the mirror and the scar in the middle of his chest, Danny’s organs that were used on him to ensure his survival while Danny was left behind.

…

He was 14 years old when he went wide-eyed at the stranger across him and his brothers in a heavily populated area.

A teen looks exactly like him with a medical eyepatch on his left eye as he sits in a wheelchair chatting idly with an older man.

Damian heavily thought of a clone, did Talia, not mother never mother, make another clone after him after weeks of silence?

Damian still remembered the first time he encountered a clone with blue eyes, his running theory is that due to his new organs have bonded with him thus creating a batch of clones with blue eyes. Timothy had spoken up that since babies have a 50/50 chance of inheriting the colored eyes of either parent made a new branch of clones.

Damian was already planning on disposing of the supposed clone when the said clone suddenly laughed exposing his neck that have a feign white line across indicating a scar. But that scar made Damian double guess, all clones he encountered are scarred free thus leaving him to have no trouble disposing of each and one of them but the existence of the scar he barely caught is something both brothers swore secrecy to it.

The laugh oh god, his laugh, only his brother laughs like that, Damian thought mournfully.

As he tries to look the other way, he suddenly faced the same doctor who was the assistant doctor that foresees his surgery years ago. He may have distanced himself from the League after he had fulfilled his debt but it was no mistaking that it was the same doctor that operated him that time.

A chemist they said, an insufficient man who is more cowardly than any other man yet his talent in poisons made him quite a gem in the League.

A clone who had broke out of their collective mind control? Possible, but why this clone? What made this look alike so special that this man dared to leave the League?

…

Robin began to follow the two, the other bats thought that he had a new case on his lap that requires recon. They didn’t question Robin’s new behavior as they have seen him do the same actions when he landed himself a case or when he was following a lead. Yet they couldn’t shake the feeling that something is not right, whether it is the fact that Robin refused any assistance or just the fact they have no idea what kind of case Robin is working on.

They should have listened to their guts then maybe they wouldn’t be surprised at the bat screen, showing a maternal and paternal match to a picture of a blue-eyed black-haired kid with a medical eyepatch on his left eye looking like Damian in a good day.

…

Danny was doing some paperwork when a flying thought passed by him about his last reincarnation. All memories from his adventures when he got reincarnated are usually put behind the back of his hand yet worries about the well-being of his brother made him distracted, and kept close a special one-way mirror to monitor his baby brother.

Danny felt nostalgic at the family drama and chaos that he can’t help but cackle at each interaction Damian has with their father’s adopted children and wards. He found himself majorly of his time watching for hours and hours, he can’t help but wish he was there. As if he was summoned Clockwork appeared in front of him and told him to go back, which confuses Danny since it was Clockwork who implemented that he cannot go back to the same dimension/ world if his body is too far gone to be revived by him, yet Clockwork told him to give someone named Alfred his regards and vanished. Looking bewildered at his mentor/ grandfather he tried to sense his vessel with little to no hope seeing that the League has his body, but surprises himself when he felt his own body submerged in a portion of the Lazarus pit.

…

Going back, he was greeted by an assistant doctor that used to be in the League due to his ancestor’s debt. He explained that he cannot in good conscience do what he was instructed to after the operation, stole his body, and submerged it in an undiscovered pit due to its small size, enough to dump a child not enough for a grown adult.

After an initial check-up, both he and the doctor discovered that the mini Lazarus pit regenerated all of his organs except his eye seeing that it was his entire body submerged excluding his head. The assistant doc theorized that those organs of his may be weaker since they were generated from nothing, Danny in all his eldritch glory as well as being the most powerful being across the Infinite Realms played his part perfectly of a now disabled child.

After all who would accuse this disabled child putting the daughter of the Demon Head in an endless nightmare by his command to Fright Knight? Who would accuse that innocent blue eye of his that he had killed any assassin in their tail ever since he and his now temporary guardian began exploring the world? Who would accuse an adorable child that he was the one who had put the Joker in a definite MIA? Who would accuse this child who smiles like the sun despite his setbacks be the one who tortured Deathstroke to the brink of insanity? Danny is pretty sure his temporary guardian knew of his secret endeavors but remained quiet due to his habit when he was in the League or just to prevent any grayer hairs from growing in.

…

Now if only his brother stopped moping around the building across their apartment complex and just come inside, he made his infamous fudge to share with his brother. His brother didn’t have to drag the rest of the bat brigade in watching him across the building, he even made extra fudge, if only they could just go through the front door instead of rescuing him first in every rogue attack and pretend, they don’t him. Well, if they are playing a game then count him in to win. But for some reason all of them made a face of being constipated whenever they talk to him, Danny is so sure he used clean ingredients to make his fudge…

God dammit just enter the front door like a normal person, better yet tell Batman to stop looking at him as if he died! Those windows are not paying to fix themselves each time one of them decided to stop dropping and roll every other night!

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp #ghost king danny #batfam #danny fenton #op danny #damian wayne

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wifeofnatasharomanoff · 1 year

Note

can u please do like filthy slut of nat fucking y/n but its hard and its rough and its toe curling and eyerolling kinda good but its so full of i love yous in between of spanking and face slapping and hair pulling but forehead kisses in between too 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 basically agressive but her telling y/n how much she loves them and their pussy

Love to Hate You

Warnings: Natasha has a dick, oral (Natasha and R receiving), fingering (R receiving), a bit of fluff, jealous!Nat, daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, a few clichés but what's a fic without one?

Words: 3,105

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

A/N: i loved this ask! i added a little bit of plot, i told @lovsalvatore about what i was gonna write ;)

You never understood why she didn't like you, the two of you had worked together before. But she kept her usual cold demeanor towards you. You always tried being nice to her, putting on a smile whenever she threw an insult at you or ignored your presence during a duo mission. You never had control over who you get assigned with on missions, if you did you probably wouldn't have picked her, as much as you respect her work and all, you had to admit it, her behavior towards you hurt.

You were sitting around in the Avenger compounds lounge room, bored out of your mind. “God, I wish I had a mission with Sam or something,” you muttered to yourself, Sam was pretty much your best friend, maybe almost like an older brother at times. “Yo, Y/N. Yeah, we need you and Romanoff in the meeting room.” you heard Tony say over the speakers. You groan, getting up from the couch and making your way to the meeting room.

“Good morning Agent Romanoff.” you say to her as you walk into the meeting room, she just acted as if you weren't there. “I'm so done with her. Oh my God.” you thought, regretting even speaking to her in the first place. “Ladies, you gorgeous girls are going on a mission. Today. Like right now. Pack your bags.” he said, handing out mission report papers for after the mission.

“Tony are you being serious right n–” he holds up a hand, interrupting you. “Yes, yes I believe you're due for a mission right now. So, get a move on.” Tony said, gesturing for you two to leave the meeting room.

The mission started early, Tony wasn't kidding. A 4 -day long mission with just you and the woman who hates you apparently. Things can't get any better. That was a lie, things got worse. “Natasha are you sure there aren't two beds?” she sighed, “Yeah I'm sure.” you chewed on your lower lip nervously. “Can't we get another room?” she shook her head, “Hotel's booked.” “Oh.”

You open up your suitcase, picking out some clothes. “Um, if you don't mind I'm gonna go clean up.” she hums in response, her attention focused on the evidence you got from the mission. You left the bedroom and got inside the bathroom. Natasha sighed, looking over at the locked bathroom door. “Fuck– what are you even thinking Natasha?..” she whispered to herself, shaking off any thoughts.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom, your hair wet, and your clothes were thin but comfortable. The ex-assassin took a short glance at you, observing how your pajamas showed off your figure without seeming uncomfortable at all. “What did ya find from the evidence Nat?” you toss your hair to the other side of your shoulder and sat next to her on the bed. “Something about green aliens. I guess–” you grab the note, “Skrulls? Isn't that those things that care bear and Fury helped all those years ago?” she looks over at you, “Care bear? Who's that?” she asked, “Carol.. captain marvel– she was the one who—”

“Yeah, I know her, never mind. But what about the Skrulls?” you move a bit closer to her, putting the two pictures together on the bed in front of you and her. “See look, that's Fury over there..” you point to a second figure, similar looking to the Director. “And there.” she furrows her brows, looking at the pictures. “But that can't be–” your gaze flickers to her face and back down to the pictures, and a slight smile appears on your face. “Unless.. the Skrulls can shapeshift Natty.” you don't notice your slip up in words, but she does. “..Natty?” your cheeks go bright red, “I didn't– I didn't mean to say that, sorry.” she looks over at you, hiding a smile. “It's fine, don't worry.”

You stifle a yawn and hazily blink your eyes. “It's pretty late, we should get some sleep Y/N.” you pick up the pictures and files and place them in the nightstand drawer. “Which side of the bed do you want?” she asked. “It doesn't matter! Pick the side you want.” she shrugs, sitting on the right side. You lie down next to her, keeping your distance.

The next morning you find yourself wrapped up by strong arms, unable to move. “Natasha?” you mumble out breathlessly, attempting to pull her arms off of you. “Natasha..” you sigh, squirming around on the small bed. “What?” she quickly takes her arms away from you. “Oh– I didn't notice.” she said, as you sit up against the pillows. “It's okay..”

“So.. what are we supposed to do today?” you ask, propping your head up with your palm under your chin. “We're–” she stopped mid-sentence, her gaze focusing on something, “Natasha?” she takes her eyes away from what seemed to be your chest. “..going undercover, to some HYDRA gala thing.” you nod, “hm.. undercover as what?”

She pauses for a second. “As a couple or something.”

“Oh- well won't we have to practice acting all coupley?” you ask, looking down at your hands. “Well, yeah..” she clears her throat, moving closer to you. “Natasha..?” she grasps your wrist, “Shh.. just stay still.” you do quite literally so, staying silent as well. She brings a hand to your waist, slightly pressing both of your bodies together. “Natasha–” you get cut off by a call notification on your phone. “Hey Carol!” you say, picking up the phone call.

“Hi Y/N, how's the mission going?” you get up from the bed. “Uh.. it's going fine for now, how's space going Captain?” she chuckles, “Great, would've been better with you here sweetheart.” you giggle at her comment, and Natasha scowled at the entire conversation. “Hey, do you.. know if– if any Skrulls still live on Earth?” you ask, “Hm.. I don't keep in contact with many Skrulls babe.” you sighed. “That's fine! Me and Nat will figure it out, eventually.” you hung up the phone and made your way back to bed.

Natasha glanced at you for a quick moment. “Are you not capable of putting on clothes properly?” she brought two hands up to your shirt, buttoning the top up. Your face heats up, a light blush appearing on your cheeks. “..w-when does the gala start again?” she sighed, “In a few hours, I'd suggest you get ready.” what made you feel this way? Fuck– you have a crush on the woman who probably hates you, good job Y/N. “Alright, if I get ready so should you then.” you say, turning off your phone and putting it aside.

Natasha gets up from the bed and goes into the bathroom to change out of her clothes. “God, why is she so– insufferable.” “I wish I could kiss her to shut her up.” she thought. “Fucking hell. Why am I attracted to her?” she muttered to herself.

Her suit didn't take too long to put on but, as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom she caught you attempting to zip up your gown, she stood there. Admiring your exposed back, your face all blushy pink as you struggle to put on your dress. “I should probably help her.” she walked over to you, placing her hand on your waist and the other on the zipper of your dress. “It took you that long to put on a dress?” you huff, puffing your cheeks up. “It's not my fault the zipper was too far.. I couldn't reach it.” she slightly smirks, “Are you done getting ready?”

“Almost, just one sec.” you bend over the desk to get a view of yourself in the mirror, touching up your makeup and hair. “It's been 10 minutes Y/N–” she looks at you, bent over the desk, your tits practically falling out of your dress. “Stop being so dramatic, it's only been like 2 minutes.” she rolls her eyes, “Well? Are you done? We're gonna be late.” you nod, grabbing your purse and heading out of the hotel with Natasha.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, the gala was beautiful for fucking HYDRA. The lights were perfectly dimmed down, the scenery outside of the building was gorgeous too. “What's your name?” the freakishly tall and mean-looking guy standing outside the entrance asks you two. “Natalya Reeds, and my wife Y/F/N Reeds.” she answers for the both of you. He raises a brow, looking down at the list once more. “Okay.. enjoy the night ladies.” he opens the door to the inside of the building, and you flash a smile and a ‘thank you’ to the man before stepping inside.

“Listen,” she squeezes your arm, “I need to get talking with that group of people, just sit still and look pretty. Got it?” you nod and walk over to the bar.

“Mrs. Reeds?” someone calls out to you, “Yeah?” the call came from behind the empty bar. “Over here.” you crouch down on the floor behind the bar, facing the mystery person– alien? “You're a- a Skrull?” that last part came out as a whisper. “What are you doing here? You could jeopardize the whole mission!” you whisper-yelled at them. “There is no mission, Fury sent me to tell you that HYDRA didn't even come here. They sent out false information.” you sigh, “Great.”

You got off the ground and went over to Natasha where she was talking to random people. You walked up to her, and rest your chin against her shoulder. “Darling.. it's getting late Natty.” you look up at her, batting your lashes. She pulls you over to an empty hallway. “What do you think you're doing?” you scoff, “HYDRA isn't here, this was false info. We have to go back to the hotel.” she sighs, “Okay.”

Once you were back at the hotel, you were so quick to change out of that uncomfortable gown. “Ugh, when will HYDRA just go away..” you flopped onto the bed. Natasha chuckles, “Never, clearly.” she laid down next to you, face-to-face. You both stare at each other for a moment. “Natasha.” she hums in response. “Why don't you like me?” she frowns, “Who said that I don't?”

“Well– I mean you never talked to me often before this mission.” she sighed, “I'm sorry for making you think that.” your pout faltered into a sweet smile. “I can make it up to you..” you didn't know what she meant but somehow her words made your heart beat faster. The room grew silent as she inches closer to you. “Would you like that detka?” before you could answer her lips were on yours, hungrily kissing you.

You receive open-mouth kisses as she pushes your back flat against the mattress, not hesitant to slip her tongue into your mouth. “mmn.. Natasha–” she slides her hand underneath the thin, light fabric that covered your chest, groping your breast, emitting a soft gasp from your mouth. “Wanted to ruin you the day I saw you wear this. Fuck.” she squeezes your thigh, your bodily reaction making you spread your legs even without her asking. “Good girl..” she lowered herself down to your hips, and you felt her fingers hook onto the hem of your panties and discard them, leaving your cunt exposed.

“Nat..” you mumble out, feeling her blow onto your dripping pussy causes you to buck your hips against her face. You slightly hiss when you sense a sharp pain on the inner part of your thigh. “Do that again kotenok and see what happens. Stay still.” you whimper as she sucks onto your clit while rubbing your folds with the pad of her thumb. “Natasha please.” she smirks, shoving a finger into your cunt, completely drenching it with your slick. You moan softly, “mmh.. fuck–” she pumps her finger in and out of your hole, and inserts a second finger as well.

“Natasha– oh God, I'm gonna..” she lightly kissed your thigh. “Make a mess all over my fingers baby.” your walls clench around her fingers as you came all over them, and your juices drip down from her fingertips to her wrist. She pulls her fingers out from your cunt, and presses them to your lips. “Open.” you comply, parting your lips only for her to shove her drenched fingers into your mouth. You clean off her fingers, ridding them of your essence.

“Natasha?” you ask out of curiosity, noticing her unbuckling the belt on her pants. “Are you gonna be good for daddy and suck her off?” you desperately nod, wanting to please her as best as you can. “Then get on your knees slut.” you get off the bed and on your knees in front of her. And quickly help her rid herself of her pants and boxers.

You let out a soft gasp as her hardened cock springs out, with pre-cum leaking out of it already. “Be a good little bitch and suck.” she says, her raspy and husky voice sending unimaginable thoughts into your head. You lower your head and wrap your plump lips around her tip. You feel a strong grip on your hair. “Fuck.. that's it. Keep going.” you push more of her girthy length in your mouth, sucking on it gently.

“shit. You're so fucking adorable baby.” you ignore the sudden rush of arousal between your legs, wanting nothing more than to please her. You shove her dick deeper into your mouth, moaning around it. “God, yes kotenok. Take it.” she throws her head back in pleasurement. You take more of her into your mouth, moaning softly as you go faster, running your tongue along the veins of her erect cock.

“Gonna cum in that slutty little mouth of yours baby girl.” her grip on your hair tightens as she shoved her length into the back of your throat, making you gag on her. Despite the tears running down your cheeks, oh how you loved every bit of this. “oh fuck– you better swallow it all.” with those words, thick ropes of cum pour into your mouth. You swallow it all down and she yanks your head off of her dick.

“Get back on the bed, I'm not finished with you quite yet.” you get up on wobbly legs and lie back down on the bed. She aligns the tip of her cock to your entrance, and she smirked at your neediness. She sent a harsh smack to your ass, “How badly do you want me?” she said, loving how you became a whimpering mess for her. “Need you so bad daddy. Please.”

She grabs onto your thighs, swinging them over her waist to hold you in place. “oh Natasha–” you moan as she inserts a few inches deep in you. “You're so tight detka..” you whimper, looping your arms around her shoulders for leverage. She begins moving slowly within you. As you began moaning louder she leans forward and whispers in your ear. “How does it feel baby?”

“Good.. you feel so good inside me!” she briefly chuckles as she moves faster. You moan as she buries her cock deep inside of you. Her breathing grows heavy as she grips your waist firmly and moves harder into you. She grunts as she speeds up a bit more. The sound of skin slapping together fills up the room as she pounds away at you.

“oh my God–” you moaned, digging your nails deep into her back, hard enough to draw blood. She lets out another loud groan when she slams her hips into yours with force. Her hands grip your sides tightly as she continues thrusting her length deeper into you. “Daddy ’m so close..” she smirks as she hears that, “Me too kotenok.” your hold on her shoulders tighten as you came all over her cock. “mmh..” she grins broadly as soon as she feels you cumming on her dick. She immediately starts slamming her hips against yours even harder. It was clear she wasn't going to stop till she finished inside of you.

“ngh– fuck.. daddy!” she doesn't slow down for a moment. Instead, she just kept going, hammering away at you relentlessly. “’m too sensitive Natty..” upon hearing that she looks down at you, “Is that right?” you nod. “mhm..” with a smirk she pulls out, after doing so she flips you onto your stomach, and your face flush onto the mattress. Without warning, she rams her entire length into you from behind. “mmph– natashmmf mmh!” your words came out muffled, one of her hands tightly placed onto your waist. She had a fistful of your hair in her other hand, pushing you flat against the bed.

You moan loudly as she fucks you from behind. She then begins rocking her hips back and forth in a steady motion. She lets go of her grip on your hair, allowing you to speak properly. “Are you gonna cum Natty?” she pauses briefly, “Yeah.. I am.” you exhaled shakily. “Then cum inside me daddy.” she nods, continuing to thrust in and out of your dripping cunt. Fuck, the sheets must be drenched by now. “You want me to cum inside of you detka?” you could tell by the tone of her voice that she was getting closer and closer to her climax. “Please! wan‘ have your babies daddy!” slutty moans escape your mouth as she continues her rough movements. Your words seem to push her over the edge. Her rough grip on your waist tightens, and with a loud groan, she slams herself deep inside you, reaching places you've never thought could be reached. She lets out a soft moan as she cums inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

“mm.. Natasha?” you mumble, breathlessly. She plants a gentle kiss on your neck. “Yeah?” you weakly turn your body to face her, “W-What does this mean for us?” she smiled, pressing her lips to yours, pulling you in for a slow kiss. “I love you Y/N. This mission made me realize how much time I wasted by not telling you.” a bright blush crept up your face. “You do..?” she nodded, “I.. I love you too Nat.”

She pulled out of you and laid beside your worn-out body, “I bet that dumb space blondie couldn't have done that.” you laugh at her words, “I knew it. You've always acted weird when I mentioned her.” she sighed, wrapping an arm around your body. “Wanna get married?” you widen your eyes, “Natasha!” she chuckles, kissing your cheek. “Just kidding moya lyubov.. but I do intend on marrying you one day.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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jarofstyles · 2 months

Text

Golden

Hello and welcome to Verboten (BFF!Dadrry) part 10!

I hope you enjoy this fluffy smutty piece because the next few will be... interesting ;)

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings.

Verboten Masterlist

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- mentions of anxiety, smut, breeding kink, age gap, daddy kink

----------

Y/N did not want to leave Italy.

She had fallen in love with the people, the food, the weather, the culture- and Harry.

That was pretty clear at this point.

His hand held her thigh under the table as they dined outside under the covered balcony, the sea air ruffling the hair that had escaped her pearly claw clip. They only had 2 days left and while she had been trying to focus on the time they had left, it was only more daunting to realize they had to come home and deal with their relationship. Telling the people who needed to know.

Lia.

Y/N had felt an awful pit in her stomach as she answered Lia’s messages every so often, thankfully her best friend being distracted by her own girlfriend to worry too much about texting her best friend. For once, she was relieved for the lack of bros over hoes.

She was galavanting across the Italian coast with her best friend’s father. Sucking him off on the yacht he had chartered, clinging to his body in the salty water, letting him kiss away tears from laughing too hard and one too many drinks. His hands had almost constantly been on her and she had welcomed, no, encouraged each and every bit of it.

Her teeth marked Harry’s golden skin, the Italian summer sun having left its mark on him in a delicious way that had Y/N almost feral. Her nails, that he had paid for being redone just a few days ago, leaving scratch marks on his back and also soothing him to sleep on a rocking boat yesterday while he had rested his head in her lap as she read.

They weren’t just having sex. They were in love. This was a relationship, something that would be seen as the ultimate betrayal. But Y/N wasn’t going to give it up.

Her whole life, she had been the one to give things up for people. She always tried to take care of everyone around her, her family, her friends, even strangers. She’d been the constant shoulder to cry one and the one ready to brave the world and her own fears for other people. So when Harry gave her a little taste of how good it felt to be taken care of, she fell in love with it. Albeit guiltily, she was letting him do the things he wanted for her- and she’d never seen him shine like this.

Harry had always liked taking care of people, but he was far more selective. He had a big heart, yes, but it had stayed particularly guarded. With the money he had, the people he’d met, it had been an early lesson for him to know that yes, he could help but he had to cherry pick the people who would be actually deserving. Y/N clicked all those boxes. She provided him with a level of comfort, pleasure and affection that he’d always dreamt of. She allowed him to spoil her more and more each day, but he was eager to do more. As many times as he could admit his adoration for her, he wanted her dripping with diamonds and the things she wanted to wear, never to worry about a thing again. She’d worked hard in her life and god damn it, she fucking deserved it. She said thank you, smothering him with kisses with every surprise he had given her, every little fucking thing, and it made him feel so good it was ridiculous. From a cute pen he’d seen in a market stall to the yacht surprise, each little thing garnered a excited, sweet reaction from her. So he wanted to do more.

“I know that we only have our two days left…” He stroked over her thigh, pads of his fingertips tracing the bend of her knee and back up. “But we’re going to come back. I promise. I’ve got the house here and I can work remote…” His face was soft, understanding that she didn’t want to go back home. It was such a welcome relief being here, so needed and refreshing that all it could possibly do is strengthen their foundation.

“I know.” She replied, placing her silverware down before taking a sip of her drink. “It’s just… I know that it’s probably going to be ugly for a while back home. Just as a general rule. I don’t want to hide at all, I’m not ashamed of being with you but I know there’s going to be a lot of blowback.” Y/N tried to explain it without it seemingly like she was backing out of their relationship. That wasn’t the case at all. “I know I’m going to lose some friends over this. And maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I shouldn’t have made a move on you, but it felt right. I needed to do it, and I don’t regret it at all. It’s necessary growth for us, and I can understand that but I just feel… anxious, I guess. To see who chooses to stay and who chooses to go.”

That was something Harry hadn’t really thought about, and as awful as he felt about it- he was more relieved that she said she didn’t regret it. Of course he didn’t want any blowback at all. “It’s tough, isn’t it my love?” He sighed sadly, gently grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. His lips pressed against her knuckles, the subtle sound of them disconnecting making her smile. “I know. It’s a risk, and I’m going to upset my daughter but you know… I want to be happy. I deserve love, and so do you. You’re of age, we’ve discussed a lot, it isn’t like we’re throwing this in anyone’s face to upset them. If our happiness matters so little to everyone ese, perhaps it wasn’t a good fit for them regardless.”

The only person’s reaction either of them really cared about was Lia’s. Harry was prepared to catch the brunt of her explosive temper. He was a grown man and he had been divorced for a bit. He understood that his choice in romantic partner was going to upset her, and he didn’t blame her. Neither of them could, because they both were rational and knew that it was a fucked up situation. He just hoped that they could work through it. He’d tried to pick Y/N’s brain about it but she seemed to understand her fate in this.

Lia wasn’t going to forgive easily, nor would their friendship ever be the same, but she was hoping that with time, they could mend what was inevitably about to be smashed up. Make a mosaic out of the pieces that were bound to shatter. Harry meant so much to her already and she couldn’t give up the chance of having a lifetime sort of love. Her romantic heart couldn’t handle it.

“You know…” Her lips tilted up. “I have always been a romantic. I always wanted love but I pretended I didn’t. I thought… maybe it would help me avoid being hurt. I’ve been afraid of having my heart broken for so long, I never was able to properly hand my heart over to anyone. They could maybe touch it, but it was under lockdown. It was really weird when…” She licked the wine from her lip, looking at his slight sunburned nose as she found her words. “It was really weird for me when I found myself wanting to hand it over to you. Like I knew you’d keep it safe. I’m still adjusting, I’m still learning but I feel so safe with you, it’s hard not to just give in.”

That was music to his ears. His smile was brighter than the sun when she finished, his hand placing hers on his cheek as he pressed tiny kisses to her inner wrist. It was hard not to pull her into his lap, but he had to keep some decorum in this situation. His girl felt safe enough to hand him her heart, and that boost it gave him almost sent his own beating chest to the moon. “It’s safe with me. Always. I won’t let anything happen to it, not from my end.” He couldn’t promise nothing else in life wouldn't hurt her- but he would be damned if he didn't try.

—--

“Go ahead, baby. You can have what you want.” His hot palms held the backside of her thighs as she lifted the sundress over her body, breasts spilling out as it was tossed onto floor. Harry’s cock was thick in his palm, wet from her saliva as she had gotten on her knees for him as soon as they’d entered the living room of the villa. Sucking with fervor, the younger girl had gotten him slick with her spit before he pulled her up to let her climb into his lap.

“I want you.” Y/N whispered, hand going between them to angle his cock against her properly. Harry’s groan was motivation as she slipped down, only taking a bit at a time as she shakily exhaled her whine. “I want you to take me, and keep me. I want to be your girl, Daddy. Please.” Her hands held his shoulders, keeping steady as her cunt sunk down on his length. “Want t’be your girl and I want you to come home from work and love on me, want you to text me to be naked in your room for you, want to make you dinner- I just want to make you happy.”

Harry was nearly speechless as her whiny demands, her true heart showing as she squeezed his shoulders and finally got seated fully on his cock. “Y-yeah? S’what my girl really wants?” It was like the world had answered his prayers. He was buried inside of her hot cunt, her mouth saying all the words he’s been itching to hear for a long while now. “Want to give that t’you. Should just live with me, hm?” He cooed. “Move right into my bed so you’re always there for me, and m’always there for you. I belong to you just as much.” His head rested against the couch, gently helping her lift up and slide back down slowly on his cock. Finding her pace, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I-Should I?” She asked, eyes wide and hazy as she sunk fully back down, full to the brim with his cock in her tummy. “You’d want that?” It wasn’t probably the place to have this discussion but hey- he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. The idea of her going home to her place when his own place was empty sans himself, when she made it feel like a real home? He wanted her there. Possessive, needy, perhaps he was, but he really did want her there. It was moving quickly but it felt like maybe he needed it. No more waiting.

“Mhm. You’re with me a lot but… Stay with me all the time, baby. Want my girl around, want to live with you.. Never want t’see you leave.” His lips connected with hers as she began to grind slowly on his cock, his hands sliding up to cup each side of her ass. Her kiss back was just as messy as her cunt, the feeling of being full making it hard to focus on anything but how good she felt and the feelings swarming her at the idea of moving in. “Move all your things in… Let daddy buy you more pretty things for your closet. Let me clean it out… let Daddy take care of you, find you a job you really like.” Harry knew he was pathetically whipped for this woman, but he had no intention of hiding that from her. Y/N deserved to know how loved she was.

“Y-Yeah, please. I want to be with you all the time.” Her nails dug into his skin a little as she bounced a few times on his prick, making them both moan. “Just want to be your girl, Daddy. Want to be yours in every way, want to smell like you, sleep in your bed, I want to- I want you.” Her confirmation was everything to him, sitting him up as he beamed. His strength was used as an advantage, turning them over so she was laid on the couch and he could look down at her.

“Good. You are- you’re Daddy’s perfect fucking girl, and m’gonna spoil you rotten.” He spread her legs open, looking at the mess where they connected. Her poor cunt was still swollen from this morning but she took it like a camp, shuddering when his thumb brushed her clit. “God, handing yourself over to me… Love it so much. M’gonna take such good care of you, baby.” His promise was true. Her hand clutched over her breast, nodding up at him as her body tightened up slightly. The stimulation and new angle made it hard for her to breathe in the best of ways.

His thrusts were deep and full of promise. Groaning through his teeth as he watched her underneath him, watching her face twist with pleasure and her stomach jump with his thrusts, he knew he didn’t ever want to see a body other than hers under him again. “S’my perfect girl. Going to wake up to you every day and see that perfect face, make you just as addicted to me as I am to you and this perfect body. You’ve ruined me.” Y/N had made him a man on his knees, weak for a woman when he swore he wouldn’t again. Only this time, it was worse, and he didn’t fucking care. He’d give it all up for her. “M’keeping you. Y’know that, baby? You belong to me, and m’gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…” one of hus hands fell down to her stomach. “Remember what we talked about? Hm? What did you want daddy to give you- What did you beg for?”

Y/N got even more wet, mewling at the pressure on her stomach as she remembered exactly what it was. “A baby- I want you to give me a baby, Daddy.” She whimpered. “Y-You said, you said you’d get me pregnant and I want it. I want it, I want you to breed me and keep me full and- oh, fuck.” Y/N’s begging was cut off with his deep thrusts gaining speed. He’d lifted her just a bit, abandoning her clit to pull her lower body up just a bit with his hands. Her eyes watered, feeling his cock punch right against the spot she had desperately needed with the adjustment, hands flailing to grab on to the couch as she got fucked.

Harry liked the sound of that. Far too much.

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you the pretty house, pretty ring, pretty babies in you… You’re driving me mad. God, I fucking love you. Stay with me, forever.” His face was beaded with sweat as he fucked into her deep, imagining those very things. She agreed to the house, moving in with him. He was sure that would be the direction they were going in. He wouldn’t let her go.

Regardless of how much it could cost him.

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

hi my love! since you’re writing me a birthday fic cause you’re the absolute best, i’d like to request Scarlett Johansson x Reader where it’s Rs birthday and Scar just spoils and treats R for the whole day. Ending in smut with Scar using her biggest cum filled strap and absolutely ruining R, hardcore sex with daddy kink and breeding kink. Like Scar just being rough and throwing R around. Make it as dirty as you possibly can haha. then ending with aftercare and Scar being a sweet baby.

thank you babes i love you <3

Birthday Suit

Pairings: Scarlett Johansson x reader

Word count: 6,460

Summary: After making you wait all day long, your wife has you open the last present of the day, her.

Warnings: smut, food play, strap-on use, daddy kink, breeding, punishment, face riding, blindfolds, orgasm-denial, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, thigh riding, dom/sub dynamic, slight nipple play, slight possessiveness, squirting, small housewife kink, praising, degrading, petnames, aftercare, small pet play, cnc

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Sweetheart? C’mon, it’s time to wake up.” A small nudge was sent to your sleeping form. You groaned in response, turning to face the other way only to have strong beams of light flashing through your eyes.

“Mm, not yet.” You negotiated, noticing the clock being marked 10:03 AM. You never were one to wake up this late, usually having work early in the morning. But Scarlett had already contacted your boss and got you the day off, you just didn’t know that yet.

“Shit! My alarm must’ve not gone off, I’m gonna be late.” You almost got whiplash with how fast you had gotten up. If it wasn’t for your girlfriend pushing you back down, you would’ve already been rushing out the door.

“Shh, I already called in. It’s your birthday, my love, you need a break.” You let out a content sigh as her lips clashed with your own. Her arms wandered your body and found place on your shoulders, leaning back but not before giving another short peck to your lips. A smile broke out across your face when seeing the beautiful woman in full glory, you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. You were the luckiest person in the world to call her yours.

“Let’s go. Since you say my cooking is so terrible, I’m taking you out to eat instead.” It was true, she burned anything she made. You were the one who cooked for her while she watched, giving the occasional kiss to the chef to show her gratitude.

“I’ve never said no such thing.” You added with a playful tone, watching as she gave you ‘that’ look. You shut your mouth immediately and went to the bathroom to get ready. You didn’t want to take too long, but you wanted to look nice. You had light makeup on and before you could pick out your outfit, Scarlett surprised you with some that she had gotten for you.

“No way you got me a ‘birthday girl’ shirt.” You tried hiding your laugh behind your hands, only to fail as you toppled over in humor. You wanted to be embarrassed, but it was too funny to even care. She signaled you to lift your arms, placing the tank top over your skin. You already had your leggings on and were now fully dressed. She walked the both of you out, giving a slap to your ass making you jump slightly. You turned to look at her only to see a smirk in return.

She opened the car door and got into the driver's side, her hand making its way to your thigh. She grasped your fingertips in her hands, giving small pecks to each one before holding your hand in hers tightly. She’d give you occasional glances at red lights, chuckling at the way you admired the city as if you’d never seen it before.

“Alright, dove, we’re here.” She had stopped in front of your favorite diner from when you were a kid. It wasn’t fancy, and it wasn’t the nicest place either. But she’d manage for you, seeing that large grin on your face as you tackled her with a hug before rushing in made it all worth it.

You sat down on the torn-up booth seat as the waitress gave you their introduction.

“Happy birthday.” She whispered next to you when walking away, you questioned how she knew for a moment, only to remember the shirt you had on. Your girlfriend sat across from you, still holding your palms. She never wanted to let go of you. She felt like if she did, it would all just end up being a dream. She knew that couldn’t be, but god she just loved to hold you more than anything.

“So, how’s your birthday, birthday girl?” By now, your drinks have already gotten here. You had a milkshake while Scarlett had a lemonade, but she kept taking sips of your drink when you’d look away. She already loved this day just as much as you. Even if it was your birthday, she never felt happier.

“It’s amazing because of you. Thank you for taking me here, I know you don’t really like this place.” She faked a gasp and held her hand to her chest, acting as if you just ripped her heart out.

“How dare you accuse me of that! I like this place, the…aroma is nice.” You chuckled at her failed attempt at a lie. The waitresses often acted like the sweetest old ladies, that was the only good thing. The boss knew you since you were a kid and gave you 10% discounts every time you ate here. The seats were held together by tape, must’ve been a bunch of nobodies tearing it up. They kept everything the same, it felt so nostalgic.

“And second of all, this is nowhere even near the start. It’s your day, I’m spoiling my beautiful girl with everything their heart desires.” Your eyes widened, your mind traveling to all the things you’d be doing that day. The only thing you didn’t know was that she was planning something extra special tonight. You had no idea what she was hiding under her pants, you had no idea she was even packing.

“And when you get back home, I want you to open your first present of the day. I hope you’ll like it.”

“Baby, anything you get me I’ll love, you know that. You yourself are more than enough and yet you’re still getting me so much.” Before she could lean over and kiss you, the waitress interrupted by placing your food on the table. Scarlett had ordered cinnamon french toast while you ordered their famous egg bacon and cheese sandwich. It was your go-to, you never switched it. Their food was great, but you loved the way the gooey egg yolk would leak out of the sandwich. You loved the crunch of the bacon and the pull of the cheese.

“Mm, is it good, my love?” You nodded and let out a small moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the first bite. She only laughed before she finished cutting her meal and taking the first bite. It wasn’t her favorite but it was still good.

A little over an hour later, the booth was filled with laughter and your beaming voice. Your smile was the largest it had ever been, your wife loved it. She loved making you happy, she’d give everything just to see you grin.

“Well, you ready to go home?” The bill was already paid, a decent-sized tip and a hug to a few of the workers and you both were out. You returned to your spot in the car, leaning over the console to give the woman a long, passionate kiss. Her hands cupped your face as her tongue licked over your lips asking for entrance. You let her in and she explored your mouth like it was new, like she’d never even kissed you before. She was hungry for you, but she had to make you wait just a few more hours.

You pulled back to breathe, resting your head on her shoulder and giving small pecks to the exposed skin. She hummed in delight before starting the car, pulling your head back to smile at you once more.

The second you arrived home there were so many presents on the table that you hadn’t seen before you left. She must’ve got someone to place them for her.

“Well, I want you to open up one to two for now, you can save the rest for later.” You rushed over to the different-sized boxes, examining all of them to see which you should open first. You shook a few in your hands and made guesses on what they are. Scar took them from your hands, walking you over to the couch and picking out two for you to open.

“Hmm, I think this one is a Lego set. And this one- I can’t tell what it is.” She motioned for you to open the surprises and maneuvered your body so you sat on her lap with her arms around your stomach.

You were right, the first was a Lego set of the black widow set. She knew how much you fangirled over her characters and knew she had to get it for you.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I fucking love it, baby! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You turned your body to hug her tightly, rocking her side to side with you. She kissed the side of your cheeks repeatedly and made sure you couldn’t let go. You could feel something poking you but you couldn’t care, all you wanted was to have your girl in your arms. You couldn’t stop the ever-so-light grind your hips made against the toy making Scarlett smirk. You now knew her surprise for the night, you couldn’t be more excited.

“Daddy?” She groaned into your ear and bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“Baby, it’s still the afternoon. Why don’t you wait a bit till daddy fucks you, hm? You think you can last that long?” Even when knowing it was most likely a lie, you still agreed. You didn’t want to make her angry, not on your birthday. As much as you loved being edged and humiliated for hours on end, all you wanted in the moment was for her to fuck you so sweetly. So softly. You wanted to feel her hands wandering your body as she made love to you.

“Yes, daddy. I’ll wait for you, I’ll be a good girl.”

“Good. Good little girl for me, doing whatever I tell you, huh?” She played with your locks of hair and handed you the next present without breaking eye contact.

“Now this one, this one is a little special. I had it custom-made to my liking, I want you to wear it for me.” You unwrapped the wrapping paper of the small box, your eyes widening as the object made its way into your sight. The red set was pulled out, the stockings following suit. Her hands ran up and down your inner thighs, her mouth lightly sucking on your pulse point. You let out a small moan and dropped the clothes down, leaning more into her touch.

“Be careful, my love. I had this made just for you, don’t be so ungrateful.” You picked up the articles of clothing before you could even blink. You didn’t want to make her mad in any way and cause her to throw you around tonight. But at the same time, that was all you ever wanted.

You didn’t even notice your hips still moving on top of her until her hands gripped your waist, forcing you to stay still.

“What did I say?”

“T-to wait for you.” She scoffed in your face before pushing you onto her right thigh, forcing you to straddle her. You knew you couldn’t move unless she said so, but you had to rock your body back and forth just once. Surprisingly, she didn’t make you stop, she just watched, arms behind her head admiring the view in front of her. You took this as her approval and started to go a bit faster, feeling the texture of her skinny jeans below you.

“Mm, that’s it. Why don’t you take your pants off, leave the panties on.” You quickly stood up to remove your bottoms, shying away from the hungry eyes of your girlfriend. Before you could go back to your previous position, her hand grasped your chin with gentleness and care.

“Oh, doll, you’re so pretty. My beautiful little pet. Now, how about you show me those panties, I want to see how wet you are for daddy.” She laid you onto the couch and separated your legs, getting onto her knees in front of you. Your excitement was through the roof knowing what was to come. Her tongue lightly grazed your clit through your soaked undergarments, your head was thrown back at the immense pleasure.

“Oh, daddy, that feels so good!” You tried closing your legs, only to no avail. She kept them pried open as her mouth left small kisses and licks over the wet spot that she caused.

“Fuck, you taste so good. And you’re so fucking wet, did I do this to you? Did daddy cause you to be dripping onto our couch?” You nodded along, not registering a word she said. Suddenly, a loud ringtone made you jump in your seat. There was no contact name, but Scarlett seemed to know exactly who it was. She moved from her place between your legs, shushing you with a finger to your plump lips.

“Scarlett?” You asked once she hung up, staring at her with confusion when she grabbed your pants off of the floor.

“I’m going to pick up the cake, I’ll be back soon. And if I find out you touched yourself without my permission, this day won’t end well for you. And trust me, I always know.” You gulped away your fears and stared up at the woman, begging her to stay and let you cum. She only laughed and walked out the door with a short goodbye. You were left in the shirt she had chosen for you and your soaked panties. Your mind was filled with thoughts of what was to come, what she’d do to you. She couldn’t possibly be mad at you for playing with yourself, it was your birthday, after all, you deserved a bit of a treat.

But you couldn’t give in, not yet. You just had to wait a few more hours for her to have her way with you. It never felt so long. It was like she had left hours ago even though it had only been forty-five minutes. You so desperately needed that release, you needed her to be here with you. You debated on calling her, the contact name screaming at you to just give in. Right as you were about to click the call button, the door opened revealing your stunning wife holding a box that must’ve held your cake. It was red velvet, just as you liked. She sent a smile your way and placed the food on the counter, the small grocery bag making its way into your eyesight. You could only see what looked like a jar of whipped cream and a carton of un-cut strawberries. ‘It must be for the cake’ you thought, not realizing the true purpose of the items.

“Y/N? Did you even hear what I said?” You blinked a few times and looked to where the voice came from, only now noticing the close proximity between you two. She grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen where the food was, your mood immediately being lifted when seeing the design. There were pink flowers on the top and sides along with chocolate-covered strawberries on top. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Well, do you like it? I know how much you love pink so I thought, why not get my favorite girl exactly what she wanted.” She tickled the side of your hips, laughing at the way you tried to escape her grasp. She used one fingertip to dip into the frosting, booping your nose and painting it with a pink cream.

“Oh, you are so lucky I love you.”

“Yeah? You love me?” You rolled your eyes before turning to face her, your arms placing themselves around her shoulders. You buried her face into her neck, making sure your nose would rub against her.

“Okay, now that’s just rude!” She mirrored your position, holding you close to her body and grabbing the fork left on the counter.

“Well, let’s dig in, baby.”

After what seemed like hours, every present was opened and the cake was almost gone. You had already responded to every ‘Happy Birthday’ message and tweet. Your whole dashboard was covered in sweet messages and drawings people had made for you on your special day. Scarlett was in the walk-in bathroom getting ready for bed, applying her skincare delicately to her face. You turned off the light on your bedside table and laid on your side facing away from where she was. The conversation with her from earlier had already escaped your mind, but it sure as hell didn’t leave your wife’s.

You felt the bed dip as she joined you in bed. You moved your head just a little bit to give her a kiss goodnight and returned to how you were, stopping in your tracks when feeling something against your bottom.

“Scar? What are you doing?” Her hips grinded slowly into you, a remembrance of what you were doing earlier on her thigh. Her curious hand found its way to your neglected breasts, her fingertip circling your nipple gently. You whimpered quietly and tried to scramble away from her, only to be pulled back in.

“Don’t try to push me away, we both know you want it. Now, why don’t you let me treat my girl for her birthday, it is your special day after all.” You couldn’t possibly say no to her. She was right, you both knew you needed it. It was like a drug and you were an addict.

“Daddy..” Came your small voice, your body moving in rhythm with hers on its own. You moved onto your back, Scarlett’s breath-taking face coming into your view. Her wet hair splayed across the sides of your face. She picked up your leg and placed it on her side, your other leg being pushed apart to give her free access.

“I have a little surprise for you, dove. And I think you’ll love it.” You followed her gaze to the bedside table on her side, the grocery bag from earlier being placed on top of the wooden table. Your eyes widened, turning to look at her with shock and excitement. She placed her hands on the oversized shirt you were wearing, feeling the soft fabric in her hands. You could tell what she was thinking and gave her a nod of approval.

“Fuck, I’ll never get sick of these perfect tits.” She palmed the soft skin in her hands, letting out a soft moan at the contact. She smiled smickly to herself when thinking of the things she could do, how she could ravish you. Your hands slowly made their way to the large imprint in her boxers, you could tell it was a new strap.

“You feel that? Daddy got it just for you. This one, this one is special though,” She took a small pause, ridding herself of her undergarments and freeing her strap-on from the confinements. “You know why it’s so special?” You shook your head, no, your eyes stuck on the toy. She grabbed your hand, placing it onto the object and guiding your hand onto her.

“Yeah, jerk daddy off, princess. I can’t wait to fill you up with so much fucking cum, watching it drip out of this sweet little hole- God! You’re so hot, baby girl.” She thrusted herself into your strokes, acting as if she could feel it, she could feel your touch. You tried clenching your legs, anything to get some sort of relief. Scarlett didn’t let that slide. She gripped your thighs tightly, almost causing the soft skin to bleed.

“Don’t be greedy, I’ve already given you so much today. Why don’t you let daddy play with her little toy for a while, that sound good?” She didn’t care for a response and gave you a long, forceful kiss. Her tongue prodding at your lips distracted you from the feeling of her fingers dancing around on your thighs. Your clit was aching, begging to be touched. You gasped when feeling her long, cold fingers circling your clit, she took that as her opportunity to insert her tongue into your mouth. She explored your body like it was new, as if she hadn’t already claimed each inch of your skin.

Her faux cock prodded at your folds, sending a shiver down your spine and goosebumps to erupt over you. She chuckled lightly and disconnected her lips with your own, watching as you struggled to fight for air.

“Look at you, all spread out and ready for me. I think I know just what could be the cherry on top to all of this.” She whispered hotly against your ear, biting the lobe softly as to just graze the area.

“W-what is it? The cherry on top, what is it?” You asked in a meek voice, your slick dripping down her fingertips and your thighs. Her digits popped into your mouth, the lightly salty-sweet flavor invading your tastebuds.

“Taste good? Yeah, you taste fucking divine, my love. Now, why don’t you close your eyes before I blindfold you.” You had to bite back a moan at the thought alone. Her using you however she pleased without you even knowing what her next move would be, it was something you could only dream of happening.

“Oh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Who am I kidding, of course, you would. You love anything daddy gives you, isn’t that right?” No words were able to leave you, only your consistent moans.

“I asked you a question, answer it.”

“Yes, daddy. I love everything you give me, everything!” She hummed in satisfaction at your words, waiting for you to comply. You slowly did, closing your eyes and ridding yourself of knowing anything she would do to your helpless body.

“Such a good whore for me, always doing exactly what I tell you.” You heard what sounded like a small crackling sound and automatically opened your eyes, bad mistake.

“What did I just say? You know, I was trying to take it easy on you but you just don’t want to listen.” Your eyes were quickly covered with a cloth, your sight only being filled with darkness. You wriggled in her grasp hopelessly, only making her more enraged.

“Stop it! Don’t make me handcuff you too, because I promise you, I will.” You felt a cold, soft texture land on your breasts causing you to let out a gasp. You could just see the concentration displayed on Scarlett’s face trying to make the perfect swirl.

“Now this is what I like to see. Stay still for me, baby, daddy just wants a taste.” Her hands held your hips, her tongue smothering your covered tits and eating the delicious treat like it was her last meal. She didn’t leave a drop behind, not a single one. She gathered up the whipped cream on her pointer finger, ghosting over your lips as a sign to open them. You did. Your mouth was filled with the sweet flavor, and your wife leaned over you with those same eyes as before, pure hunger and need. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. You could feel the way her hands held you, fighting off the urge to not move lower. And you could hear the ragged breaths, you could hear just how desperate she was to finally get her mouth on you.

“Fuck, you think you can do something for me?” She was trying to hold back, you could tell. It brought a small smirk to your face knowing how much control you had over her even when being blindfolded and helpless.

“Anything for you, daddy.”

“I want you to ride my face.” Even through the sternness in her tone, you could hear the slight uncertainty. You were always too nervous to do so, scared you’d be too heavy for her to hold. But she had assured you countless times again that it wouldn’t happen and that ‘I’d love more than anything to die between your thighs’. You’ve watched many pornos that played out exactly like this, the girl riding the others’ face like there was no tomorrow. And you couldn’t lie, it was hot. You just never thought she’d be so into it.

When not hearing a response, your wife let out a small sigh. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, angel. You can tell me no.”

“No! No, I want to.” She didn’t fully believe you, she knew you’d gladly do anything she wanted before thinking of yourself.

“You need to tell me you want it, I need to know this is what you really want.”

“I want it, I want to ride your face, Scarlett.” Her hand delicately placed itself around your neck, licking a long stripe up your neck. She enclosed her lips on your skin, creating more hickey’s the farther she went down. Suddenly, the same hands were lifting you up and placing you onto her lap. She was letting you go at your own pace. No matter how much she loved to have that control over you, she’d never force you into doing something you didn’t want.

She lifted your blindfold for a moment, giving you a soft kiss before you started to move closer and closer to her face.

“It’s okay, love, do it for me.” You felt a rough grab on your thighs, pulling you onto her lips. She didn’t let up, her tongue immediately dove into your heat. It swirled around your clit, making out with the wet bud like her life depended on it.

“Fuck, taste so damn good.” She muttered, your juices filling her mouth. You held onto the bedpost in front of you, slowly starting to rock your hips against her. Your bundle of nerves grazed against her nose, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Daddy! Oh god- yes! It feels so good! So fucking good!” She chuckled darkly into you, the vibrations causing shivers up your spine.

“Mm, could eat this little pussy all day, so sweet.” Her fingers ran across your folds, prodding at your hole for entrance.

“God, you’re so tight! Just begging me to finger you, huh?” You rode her faster, your pace becoming animalistic. She held your butt tightly, giving a small smack to the soft skin and creating a loud cackling sound. Her tongue dipped into your hole, moaning at the flavor.

“Daddy! It- it hurts, I can’t take it.” She restricted your movements with the hand placed on your body, the other teasing your wetness once more. You were absolutely dripping, nearing your peak. You knew you couldn’t finish without permission but fuck was it hard. It felt like heaven, the most beautiful woman sloppily eating you out with pure need. No matter how tight of a hold she had on you, it couldn’t stop the grinding coming from your lower body.

“Don’t you dare fucking move, or I’ll stop.”

“But, please! I need it, I wanna cum so bad.” Tears rolled down your red face, the overwhelming sensation becoming too much to bare. You broke. You couldn’t even warm her before you came crashing down, trying to push her off of you to the best of your ability. She quickly stopped what she was doing, making you whine loudly.

“When did I tell you that you could cum? Hm?” When you didn’t respond she continued, “Huh? Tell me, when the fuck did I say you can cum?” You gulped down any words that could form, knowing they’d only get you into more trouble. The sight of her angered face filled your eyesight as the cloth covering your eyes was ripped off of you.

“I was trying to be gentle with you, princess. Since it’s your day I thought, why not treat my girl? I’d fuck them so well and make their day perfect, but you just had to ruin that, didn’t you? You couldn’t listen to me and wait, no, you were too much of a desperate little bitch to wait for daddy.” A slap was sent to your cheek, your face moving to the side as you touched the reddened skin.

“I’m sorry, daddy-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were being slammed against the mattress, your wife leaning over you with that fierce gaze.

“Don’t get all apologetic now, you know what you did. Now, why don’t you make it up to me, let daddy play with this sweet fucking body however I want, okay?” You knew there was no point in pleading for forgiveness, the damage was already done. Her arms went on either side of your head, one going down to stroke her strap. You moved your hips towards the toy, begging for it inside of you.

“Such a dirty girl, I thought I taught you better. What do we say when we want something, hm?” Your hands were fighting the urge not to grab onto her round breasts and tease them till they were swollen, till she was the one pleading you not to stop.

“P-please! Please, daddy, I want you to fuck me, want you to use me.” She leaned in close to your face, your lips nearly touching.

“That’s better.” She leaned back, your body chasing after her mouth as if it was a floating memory. She only chuckled, noticing your distracted form and using it to her advantage. She slipped the tip inside of you, watching as your mouth formed a large O shape when trying to suppress a moan. Her thumb pinched your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands forming fists. She didn’t stop until the entirety of her length was inside of you, stretching you out like never before. She was so big, you almost couldn’t handle it.

You gave her a small nod when the burning sensation went away, instantly feeling her thighs make contact with your own as she started a slow yet hard pace. You needed more, it wasn’t enough.

“Daddy! Go faster, please go faster!” You hoped she’d show you some sort of mercy and do as you asked, but she didn’t. She had only done the exact opposite, stilling her thrusts completely.

“Is that how you ask for things? Are you that dumb and brainless that you can’t follow a single fucking rule?” You shook your head quickly, forcing your body to stop its movements before she did it herself.

“No, daddy, I’m sorry. Please fuck me faster, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything, fucking anything!”

“Good girl, love. Did such a good job doing as I say.” She finally complied, hitting deep inside of you only to pull out almost entirely. The headboard slammed against the wall in front of you, creating a dent that Scarlett made a mental note to have fixed. Your moans filled the room covered in the stench of sex, your wife wished she could play them on repeat for hours. Heavy breaths escaped her every time she moved, the sound being vocalized right next to your ear. You could hear the small whines that left her, you could hear everything.

“God, you’re so damn sexy. Want to cover this beautiful body with my marks, show everyone who you belong to.” She took hold of the necklace she had gotten you that was splayed across your chest. It had her name written in gold cursive, it had to be your favorite gift of the day.

“You see this?” She started, “This is my name. Mine. And I want you to wear it every goddamn day so everyone will know you’re mine. All fucking mine.” She connected her lips with yours, the small hint of your juices from earlier lingering around and hitting your taste buds.

“All yours.” You mumbled, receiving a smirk from the slightly older woman. She took hold of your thighs and pushed them forward to touch your stomach, reaching deeper inside of you and causing your legs to shake.

“Oh fuck! Yes, right there!” Your hands went to play with your nipples, hoping to throw you closer to the edge.

“Yeah? Did I hit that nice little spot inside of you that gets you all dumb for daddy? Such a cute whore for me, and only for me, right?” You nodded along with whatever she said, only focusing on the immense pleasure she was giving you. She decided to let it go just this once, instead choosing to admire your blissed-out face.

“I can hear just how wet you are for me, doll, you’re fucking dripping.” Her thighs shined in the small bit of light illuminating the room, being drenched in your slick as she rammed into you harshly.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl, I love you so much. Daddy loves you, princess, she loves you so much.” You basked in the short, sweet moment and pulled her into you, licking the shell of her ear before whispering gently,

“Show me how much you love me, let me cum. Let me make a mess all over your dick.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she contemplated her options. This was supposed to be a punishment, she was meant to deny you. But the way you spoke so heavenly into her ear made her want to fulfill your request more than anything.

“You can hold it a little longer, right? Can you be my good girl, or do you only know how to be a cock-drunk slut?” Your back arched off the bed, your release nearing. You knew you were incapable of waiting, you already had long enough. But you wanted to make it up to her, to do what she had asked of you.

“No, I can’t! I really can’t, daddy. It’s too much!” She shook her head in disagreement, making you shed tears you didn’t know were threatening to come out.

“Just a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” You agreed with no plans of actually following through. She wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, you both knew that.

“I can’t! I need it, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything- Ah! Just, please fill me up!”

“Yeah? You want me to cum deep inside this tight pussy? Maybe you’ll get pregnant too, be all round with my pups. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Your mind was fuzzy and blank, the only thing you were able to think of was her. Her voice. Her words. Her touch. Everything she did got you closer to breaking her rules.

“Mhm, I want it, I want your pups. I need you filling me up every second of the day.” You mumbled out incoherently, a grin finding its way to your wife's face.

“I will, baby, I fucking will. I’ll make sure you’re dripping in my cum every morning and every night, I’ll never waste a drop. You would make the perfect housewife and the perfect little mommy.” The fake cum shot deep inside of you, occasionally spilling out of your hole. She moaned as if she could actually feel it, like she could feel your walls clenching around her. You let out a silent scream and bit the pillowcase next to you, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

“Don’t hide your moans, love. Daddy wants to hear every sound she can get out of that whorrish mouth.” Her mouth placed itself on your breasts that were calling out for her. She sucked as if there was milk coming out, teasingly biting the hard bud to pull a reaction out of you. The coil in your stomach snapped, your juices spurting out of you and hitting her lower stomach. She hadn’t permitted you, yet it was too hard to stop it. You hoped she wouldn’t mind, that she’d let it go and continue to fuck you all night long.

“That’s it, cum for me. You’re so fucking hot, I’ll never get tired of watching you squirt all over me.” She sloppily fingered your clit, laughing at the way you tried to clench your legs closed.

“Awh, don’t get all shy on me now. I want to see this wet little pussy just dripping in my cum, can’t you just give daddy this one thing? After she’s been so nice to you today.” She pouted innocently, forcing your legs back open with her long, veiny hands. You were so sensitive, it hurt just for her to touch your inner thigh.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You hugged her close to your chest, whimpering as she started to pull out.

“It’s okay, let’s just wait a minute. Does that sound good?” You nodded, hiding your face into her neck and sobbing quietly.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?” She was panicked, the last thing she’d ever want to do is harm you in any way.

“N-no, you didn’t hurt me. ‘M just sensitive.” She let out a small sigh of relief and refused to let you go, keeping you in her arms like you were her life support. Your eyes were droopy as sleep was invading your senses, only to be pulled back to reality as Scarlett hoisted you onto her waist. She was careful not to hurt you and gently placed you down on the side of the tub, moving to rid herself of the strap-on attached to her hips and to grab a wet cloth.

“This might sting just a bit but I promise it will be over soon.” The fabric made contact with your cunt, a small burn following. Your hands instinctively made their way to her shoulders, biting your lip to suppress any sounds that would follow.

“There, all done.” You had already brushed your teeth and gotten yourself ready for bed earlier and now were being carried to your shared bed. She let you down gently, tucking you in under the pile of blankets before sliding in next to you. Her arms went around your form, hugging you tightly and catching a whiff of a familiar scent.

“Are you wearing my perfume?” Your small giggle and no response were all the answers she needed as she let out a laugh of her own before kissing your forehead.

“You’re adorable, baby.” She said, “Happy Birthday, I hope I was able to make this day perfect for you.”

“You just being here was the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for. Thank you, you really know how to make someone’s day.” She could tell by the yawn you let out soon after finishing your words that you were close to falling asleep.

“I try. Now, get some rest, baby. You were so good for me tonight, I’m so proud of you.” You smiled drunkenly, letting out yet another yawn before speaking one last time that night.

“Love you so much, Scarly.”

“Love you to the moon and back, darling.”

Taglist: @obsessedwithhereyes @boredandneedfanfics

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

Note

Can I request platonic Carlisle x child fem witch reader (like 14-15, she ages really slowly), Carlisle saved her from being killed during the Salem Witch Trials? He cares for her so much and since she’s the only one who sleeps in the Cullen clan, he sometimes watches her sleep as if protecting her or something. And he acts somewhat protective of her after finding out she’s Seth’s imprint?

❝the witch hybrid and her companion❞

✭ pairing : father Carlisle Cullen x reader x imprint Seth Clearwater

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a young witch who Carlisle had saved from the Salem witch trials, she had been been on the verge of being fully brunt to death when he had grabbed and rescued her, she was fifteen when he had turnt her thus making her the first hybrid of both witch and vampire species.

✭ authors note : this shit so long I gotta make a part 2 because I wasn’t done writing

✭ twilight masterlist

The year was 1692, and the small town of Salem was ablaze with fear and suspicion. The Salem Witch Trials had gripped the community, turning neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend. Whispers of witchcraft echoed through the narrow, winding streets like a curse.

In the midst of this hysteria, a young witch named (Y/N) found herself ensnared in the web of accusations. She was a mere fifteen years old, with (dark/light) (h/c) hair and hypnotizing (e/c) eyes that held the secrets of centuries past. Her magical abilities had manifested early, and she had done her best to hide them, but the fervor of the witch hunt had spared no one.

One fateful evening, as the moon hung low in the darkened sky, the town's fervor reached its peak. (Y/N) was dragged from her humble cottage by an angry mob, her hands bound, and the scent of burning wood filled the air. The townsfolk were determined to put an end to the supposed evil that had plagued their lives.

The makeshift gallows stood tall in the center of town, a grim reminder of the collective madness that had taken hold. A wooden stake awaited (Y/N), and the flames that danced around it cast eerie shadows on her pale, terrified face.

As the crowd jeered and cursed, the flames were lit, and the stake began to smolder. (Y/N) let out a piercing scream as the searing pain coursed through her body. She was on the brink of death, her skin blistering and her vision fading.

But then, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with preternatural grace and speed. Carlisle Cullen, a vampire with a heart that still beat for compassion, could not bear to witness this gruesome spectacle. He had heard rumors of witches in Salem and had come to investigate, hoping to prevent further tragedy.

In an instant, Carlisle reached (Y/N)'s side. With a strength that belied his gentle appearance, he tore the wooden stake from her chest. The townsfolk gasped in shock as they beheld a young man of ethereal beauty and otherworldly strength.

Carlisle cradled the near-lifeless (Y/N) in his arms and vanished into the night, leaving behind the chaos and confusion of the mob. He knew that there was only one way to save her now—to grant her the immortality of a vampire.

As they fled into the wilderness, (Y/N) clung to consciousness, her body burned and broken. She whispered a faint thank you to the stranger who had appeared like a guardian angel in her darkest hour. Little did she know that this mysterious savior would change the course of her life forever.

In the moonlit forest, Carlisle Cullen made a solemn vow. He would teach (Y/N) to control her newfound powers, guide her through the complexities of immortal life, and protect her from the world that had once condemned her. Together, they would find redemption and forge a bond that would withstand the ages.

Carlisle had taken a great risk when he saved (Y/N) from the clutches of death during the Salem Witch Trials. He had severed ties with the Volturi long ago, seeking a life that adhered to his moral compass. His choice to create a vampire out of (Y/N), who still possessed her magical abilities, was a secret he needed to protect at all costs.

The struggles were immediate. (Y/N)'s powers, now amplified by her vampiric nature, were dangerously unpredictable. At times, her emotions would trigger bursts of magic that could send objects flying or set the forest ablaze. Keeping her abilities hidden from both the human world and the vampire authorities became an arduous task.

Carlisle spent countless nights helping (Y/N) gain control over her newfound powers. He was patient, guiding her through the nuances of her magic, teaching her to harness it without drawing attention. Together, they honed her skills in secrecy, for they knew that revealing her true nature could lead to disastrous consequences.

As the years passed, Carlisle and (Y/N) developed a bond that ran deeper than blood. They became a family of two, sharing their eternal existence and the burden of concealing her abilities. It was a lonely existence, but they clung to the hope that they could find others like them, vampires who shared their values and accepted (Y/N) despite her magical nature.

Their quest for companionship led them on a journey across the continent. They followed whispers and rumors, searching for those who might understand their unique situation. It was during this quest that they stumbled upon a coven unlike any other.

In a remote, wooded area, they encountered people on the verge of dying such as Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Jasper, Emmett, and Alice.

Together, they navigated the challenges of their unique existence, supporting each other through the trials of immortality and the constant threat of the Volturi's scrutiny. As they honed their abilities and shared their stories, they discovered the true meaning of family – a bond forged not by blood but by choice and shared values.

Their coven became a sanctuary, a place where each member could be their authentic selves without fear of judgment or persecution. And as they faced the world together, they knew that their unity was their greatest strength, a testament to the power of love, acceptance, and the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the darkness that sought to consume them.

The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.

Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.

One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

Edward had long been intrigued by Bella Swan, the human girl who had captured his heart. He knew the time had come to introduce her to his family, the Cullens. With a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, he arrived at the Cullen residence with Bella by his side.

The Cullen home exuded an air of elegance and tranquility as Edward and Bella entered. Carlisle and Esme, the matriarch and patriarch of the family, stood together, their welcoming smiles putting Bella at ease. Alice, as ever, bounced with enthusiasm, eager to greet the newcomer.

Rosalie, the beautiful but distant blonde, maintained her standoffish demeanor. Emmett, her jovial and easygoing husband, offered a warm and friendly greeting. Jasper, with his polite distance, appeared cordial yet reserved.

As Bella took in the room full of unique and ethereal beings, her nerves were palpable. Edward gently squeezed her hand, offering silent reassurance.

Edward turned to Bella, his arm draped around her, and gestured toward the youngest member of the family. "(Y/N)," he began, "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."

(Y/N) stepped forward, her emerald eyes twinkling with curiosity and warmth. "Hello, Bella," she greeted with a genuine smile.

Bella returned the smile, though her gaze flickered with surprise as she took in (Y/N)'s youthful appearance. "Hi, (Y/N). Nice to meet you."

Edward, ever the attentive brother, chimed in, "Bella, (Y/N) is homeschooled. She's rather sensitive emotionally, and we want to ensure she's comfortable."

Bella nodded, not questioning the explanation, and (Y/N) added, "It's lovely to meet someone new. I don't often get the chance to make friends outside the family."

As the conversation flowed, Bella and (Y/N) discovered shared interests. They both had a deep love for nature and a passion for ballet. They exchanged stories about their experiences, and (Y/N) found herself drawn to Bella's genuine and kind-hearted nature.

Alice, always eager to foster connections, joined in their conversation with her trademark enthusiasm. Jasper remained observant but distant, his empathic nature making him cautious around newcomers. Rosalie, on the other hand, kept her distance but couldn't help but sneak occasional glances at Bella, her curiosity getting the better of her.

As the evening unfolded, the Cullens' initial uncertainties about Bella began to fade. It was clear that she brought a light into their home, and her connection with (Y/N) was a pleasant surprise.

Though the Cullens were a family of immortal vampires, they had managed to create a sense of belonging and unity. With Bella's arrival, the dynamics shifted once more, adding a new layer of complexity to their existence. Little did they know that this human girl would play a significant role in their future, bringing challenges and joys they could never have anticipated.

The bond between (Y/N) and Bella had grown stronger since their first meeting at the Cullen household. They shared countless hours talking about everything from books to ballet, and their friendship had become an unbreakable connection.

One sunny afternoon, Bella decided to introduce (Y/N) to a friend from her other life in Forks, someone who was quite different from the Cullen family. She took (Y/N) to the nearby La Push reservation, where she introduced her to Jacob Black.

Jacob, a tall and lanky young man with a warm smile, greeted Bella and her new friend with enthusiasm. (Y/N) was immediately struck by his friendly and down-to-earth nature. She found herself drawn to his easygoing demeanor, which contrasted with the graceful elegance of her vampire family.

As they sat in the shade of a towering tree, (Y/N) and Jacob began to chat. She learned that Jacob had a passion for fixing cars and motorcycles, an interest he'd picked up from his father. It was an unusual hobby for a young man on the brink of shifting into a werewolf, but Jacob loved the mechanical world as much as (Y/N) loved ballet and nature.

"(Y/N), you ever work on cars or bikes?" Jacob asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

She shook her head, intrigued by the idea. "No, I've never had the chance, but I'd love to learn."

Jacob grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. "Well, I can teach you if you're interested. We've got an old truck in the garage that's in need of some TLC."

Bella watched as her friend and her new friend connected over a shared interest. It was a heartwarming sight, seeing her worlds collide in such a positive way.

In the days that followed, (Y/N) visited La Push regularly to spend time with Jacob. She learned how to wield wrenches and navigate the inner workings of an engine. She watched with fascination as he effortlessly fixed motorcycles and patiently explained the mechanics behind each repair.

As (Y/N) delved into this new hobby, she couldn't help but notice the parallel between her time with Jacob and the moments she had observed between Rosalie and Emmett as they worked on cars together. She marveled at the beauty of human experiences and how they transcended the boundaries of her immortal life.

Her friendship with Jacob deepened, and she treasured the moments spent working on engines and sharing stories under the open sky. In those moments, (Y/N) realized that bonds could be formed beyond the supernatural world of vampires and werewolves, and that the connections she forged with humans were just as significant and meaningful.

The year had turned to 2006, and the bonds between (Y/N), Bella, and Jacob had grown stronger since (Y/N) started learning about cars and motorcycles with him. However, a shadow had fallen over their friendship.

Jacob had become distant, and Bella couldn't understand why. She was tired of being ignored, and one day, she decided to confront him with (Y/N) by her side.

They arrived at Jacob's house, and the atmosphere was tense. Bella knew something was amiss, and she was determined to get answers. As they approached the house, they heard roughhousing and laughter coming from the backyard.

Bella's frustration was evident as she muttered, "Enough is enough. I need to know what's going on."

(Y/N) nodded in agreement, her concern mirrored in her eyes. They made their way to the backyard, where they were met with an unexpected sight. Paul, Jared, and Sam, all shirtless, were playfully wrestling in the grass.

Bella's patience had run thin, and she spoke up, "Jacob, we need to talk."

The laughter ceased as the three boys turned to look at the girls. Sam, with his wisdom and responsibility as the pack's alpha, stepped forward. "What's this about, Bella?"

Jacob stood nearby, his expression guarded. Bella's frustration boiled over, and she finally confronted him, "You've been avoiding me, Jacob. I want to know why."

Jacob hesitated, his gaze shifting between Bella and his pack members. But it was Paul who decided to speak, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well, maybe it's because we've got more important things to do than hang out with vampires."

Bella's eyes widened in shock. She had heard the legends, but this was the first time someone from the Quileute tribe had openly referred to the Cullens as vampires.

A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by Jared's uneasy cough. Jacob's features hardened as he faced Bella, the truth finally out in the open. "Yes, Bella, we know what your family is. We know they're the cold ones."

(Y/N), who had remained quiet until now, felt the tension rise to a breaking point. Her magical abilities had always been a closely guarded secret, but she couldn't stand by as the situation escalated.

Before anyone could react, Bella, driven by anger and hurt, slapped Paul across the face. It was an instinctive reaction, but the consequences were immediate. Paul's body began to tremble, and within moments, he transformed into a massive, russet-colored wolf.

Chaos erupted as the other wolves reacted, growling and snapping at the sudden threat. Jacob, acting on instinct to protect Bella, shifted into his wolf form and leaped between Paul and the girls.

(Y/N), her magical powers flaring to life, sensed the impending danger. She stepped forward, raising her hands, and a shimmering magical shield sprang into existence, surrounding Bella and Jacob, protecting them from the agitated wolves.

The standoff continued for a tense moment until Sam, as the pack's leader, barked a command, and the wolves reluctantly backed down. (Y/N) slowly lowered the shield, and the tension in the air dissipated.

Bella and Jacob were left staring at each other, the truth now laid bare.

The tension in the forest eased as Sam, the alpha of the Quileute wolf pack, intervened and calmed the agitated wolves. He beckoned everyone to follow him back to his cabin, where they could talk more openly.

Jacob turned to Bella, his expression pained. "Bella, try not to stare at Emily too much."

(Y/N) caught Jacob's words and glanced at Bella with curiosity. She followed Jacob's gaze to a woman named Emily who was standing nearby. Bella's reaction was immediate; she was taken aback by the scars on Emily's face.

As they entered Sam's cabin, Bella couldn't help but ask, "What happened to her?"

Sam, understanding the girls' confusion, began to explain. "Emily's scars are a result of a shifter's transformation gone wrong. It's a risk we face when we shift. Sometimes, accidents happen."

(Y/N) listened intently, and as she looked at Emily, her mind flashed back to her own past. She remembered the pain of the flames, the burns on her body, and the scars she had carried before Carlisle had turned her into a vampire. It was a painful memory she rarely revisited.

Sam continued, "We're not just ordinary humans, Bella. We're shape-shifters. We transform into wolves. We've known about the cold ones, the vampires, for a long time, and there's a history of conflict between our kind."

Bella's eyes widened, realizing that the tension between Jacob's pack and her family was deeply rooted. It was a revelation that left her with more questions than answers.

Then, Sam turned to (Y/N), his gaze intense. "And what about you? You smell human, but not quite."

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before she decided to share her truth. "I'm not just a vampire. I'm also a witch. Carlisle turned me during the Salem Witch Trials to save my life, but I retained my magic."

The room fell silent as Sam processed this revelation. The other members of the pack, including Paul, who had calmed down, overheard the conversation and entered the cabin.

Paul, still uneasy about (Y/N), voiced his concerns. "Sam, she's dangerous. A vampire-witch hybrid? Who knows what she's capable of?"

Sam raised a hand, silencing Paul. He turned back to (Y/N), his eyes steady. "Explain. How do you use your magic?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath and began to recount the story of the Salem Witch Trials, how she had been condemned, and how Carlisle had turned her to save her life. She spoke of the magic she had retained and how she had learned to harness it, to control it.

As her story unfolded, the tension in the room began to ease. Sam and the rest of the pack listened with rapt attention, realizing that (Y/N) was not a threat but someone who had suffered and survived against all odds.

As the conversation in Sam's cabin continued, the atmosphere began to relax, and the tension that had filled the room started to dissipate. The Cullen and the Quileute pack shared stories and experiences, forging a fragile understanding. However, a new presence entered the room, and the dynamics shifted once more.

The door swung open, and Seth Clearwater entered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Got caught up in patrol duty."

He started to explain further but stopped abruptly as his eyes locked onto (Y/N)'s. Time seemed to stand still for Seth as he made eye contact with her, and a series of vivid flashes inundated his mind.

He saw himself dating (Y/N), their laughter echoing through the forest as they went on hikes, their hands intertwined. He saw tender moments of them kissing under the moonlight, their love stronger than anything he had ever imagined. He even saw himself undergoing a transformation, becoming immortal through (Y/N)'s magic, so they could live out their lives together.

The sudden influx of images left Seth bewildered, his heart racing. He stumbled over his words, his apology fading into silence. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a future he had never known he wanted.

The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Seth. It didn't take long for Sam to realize what had occurred. He approached Seth, his expression knowing. "Seth, you've imprinted."

Seth nodded, still dazed by the overwhelming experience. He couldn't tear his gaze away from (Y/N), who had a bewildered yet sympathetic expression on her face.

Bella, having experienced imprinting with Jacob, understood the gravity of the situation. She leaned over to whisper to (Y/N), "It's a Quileute thing. He can't help it. It's like he's bound to you now."

(Y/N) nodded in understanding, feeling a mix of surprise and sympathy for Seth. She had witnessed how powerful imprinting could be and how it could affect someone's life.

Seth, still recovering from the shock, couldn't help but act like a lovesick puppy around (Y/N). He smiled at her, his gaze lingering, and his actions becoming increasingly attentive. It was clear that his world had shifted, and his focus had become solely centered on her.

The room settled back into conversation, but Seth's newfound devotion to (Y/N) remained evident. He was drawn to her like a magnet, his presence a constant reminder of the complexities of the supernatural world they inhabited.

As the evening wore on, the Cullen and the Quileute pack continued to exchange stories and experiences, but now there was an added layer of understanding and acceptance. The bonds forged between them grew stronger, and they realized that in a world filled with secrets and supernatural forces, connections could form in the most unexpected and profound ways.

Bella and (Y/N) headed back to the Cullens' house, the forest surrounding them bathed in the gentle light of the moon. Bella pulled up to the driveway, and (Y/N) stepped out of the car, her thoughts lingering on the revelations of the evening.

As she watched Bella drive off, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. She had made new friends, but she was aware of the complications that could arise from her interactions with the outside world. Her hybrid nature, a blend of vampire and witch, held secrets that she needed to protect.

Entering the Cullens' home, (Y/N) was immediately surrounded by her family. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper all gathered around her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Where have you been, (Y/N)?" Carlisle's voice held a hint of anger, but also a deep concern. He had always been protective of her, knowing the dangers of the human world and the risks associated with her true nature being exposed.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze meeting Carlisle's. "I've been hanging out with Bella and Jacob and some new friends I made."

Carlisle's concern deepened. "New friends? (Y/N), you know the risks. Your true nature, both as a vampire and a witch, could be exposed to humans."

(Y/N) nodded, understanding his worries but also eager to share her experiences. "I know, Carlisle, but I've been careful. And I've learned a lot about the Quileute culture and the challenges they face."

Carlisle couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. He was angry that Bella had taken (Y/N) without informing anyone, concerned about the risks, but also happy that his daughter had made friends outside their family.

However, his world was about to be shaken once more. (Y/N) noticed the change in her father's demeanor and decided it was time to reveal the most significant development of the evening.

"I have something to tell you," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of infatuation. "I've been imprinted on."

Carlisle's eyes widened in shock. "Imprinted? By whom?"

(Y/N) smiled, a lovesick expression in her eyes. "Seth Clearwater."

The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. Carlisle realized that his younger daughter had formed a bond that was far deeper and more profound than any ordinary friendship. He knew that an imprint was a powerful connection, one that couldn't be broken.

As (Y/N) continued to share the story of her evening and the imprint, Carlisle's world came crashing down. He had always known that his family's supernatural existence came with complexities, but the idea of his daughter being infatuated with a young shifter left him with a mix of emotions—concern, worry, and a touch of sadness for the challenges that lay ahead.

The Cullens, a family bound by love and acceptance, now faced a new chapter in their extraordinary lives, one that would test their bonds and their ability to navigate the intricate web of supernatural connections.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #twilight masterlist #twilight #twilight x y/n #twilight x you #seth clearwater x you #seth clearwater x y/n

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inmyloveworld · 2 months

Text

i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.3k

synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.

warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking

a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!

It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.

But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.

So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.

And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.

He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.

Was I overthinking?

Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"

Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.

I wasn't.

Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.

Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.

He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."

All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.

"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?

Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."

The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.

Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.

He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.

Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.

You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.

Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.

Don't think, just do.

"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.

Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.

"Thank you."

🏷️: @avengersfan25

#rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun rooster #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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hugshughes · 3 months

Text

Summer Child C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - When it's announced that Coach Minter is leaving Michigan, it heavily affects his eldest daughter's life. Especially since her boyfriend is a returning tight end for the Wolverines.

wc - 5k (CONFUSED NOISE????)

contains - UNEDITED SORRY! angsty :(, cursing, kissing, cuddling, crying, shouting, lying. people are mean to reader about it. mentions of a car accident! NO DETAILS!!! it's just a flashback!!! comfort (colston is the boyfriend of the year) heavy family issues, feelings of betrayal. it's kind of giving a found family moment? OHHHH COLSTON BEING HOT AS FUCK STICKING UP FOR READERRR, mentions of hickies? can we pretend that it was announced in like a month or so? cause in this universe CURRENTLY (January 28th) Colston like JUST asked reader to be his girlfriend. so maybe this was announced in late March? WORK WITH ME THANKS.

an - well shit writing this was kind of sad. THE TIMES TABLES DURING A PANIC ATTACK IS LIKE ACTUALLY ME. i had one at a party (so fun of me yes) in October my boyfriend sat with me and asked me times tables to calm me down. IT WORKS FOR ME EVERY TIME OKAY? ALSO do u guys realize that whenever Minter!reader calls Colston "Lovey" it's because 1. Loveland is his last name, and then 2. he's her love. IT MOSTLY STARTED BECAUSE OF HIS LAST NAME THEN MORPHED INTO HIM BEING THE LOVE OF HER LIFE. THATS WHY ITS CAPITALIZED WHEN OTHER TERMS OF ENDEARMENT ARENT!

you see all the flowers in the weeds.

Your phone rang loudly on your nightstand. Who was calling you so early? It was only 6:10 in the morning as you made your way from your bathroom, quickly grabbing your phone. Colston. What was your boyfriend doing calling you at this time? You slid to answer the phone, a large smile on your face.

"Hi Lovey, what are you doing calling me this early?"

You heard a sigh exit your boyfriend's mouth, your smile leaving you. Something was wrong.

"You don't know, do you?"

"What? What are talking about, Colston?"

"Look at Instagram."

You rolled your eyes, putting the call on speaker before sliding it away, opening Instagram. The screen reloaded before displaying an update post saying your dad was done with his time in Michigan. What?

you're scared of the dark when you sleep.

"No. He would've told me. No way, how do you know?"

"We just got off of a team call with him."

Your heart dropped even further than it had before. Not only was your father leaving, he hadn't even bothered to tell you. Your stomach was forming a pit, you didn't know what to think or do. You realized Colston might be upset with you, jumping to protect yourself.

"You know I didn't know about this, right? I can't believe he didn't tell me. I just- I don't even know what to do right now."

You felt tears in your eyes, why didn't he just tell you? You inhaled shakily. What the fuck? Your dad had touched on the subject of him possibly leaving Michigan to follow Jim, but didn't ever make a firm decision with it, not whenever you were around. Your whole family didn't tell you. You couldn't believe your dad, but even more so your mom, because you thought the two of you were supposed to be best friends. Obviously not.

you cover up your arms with your sleeves, even in hundred degree heat.

"Hey, yeah it's alright. I know baby, I trust you, okay? Are you okay?"

"I don't- I just, why didn't he tell me? He was acting like he wanted to stay. I mean, I don't care that he's leaving, why did he lie about it? He had to have made his decision weeks ago. What the fuck?"

You ran your fingers through your ponytail, you felt your usual front of nonchalance breaking. You swallowed hard, desperately trying to wipe the tears before they could fall down your face.

"Woah, baby, hey. Breathe, pretty. I'll be there in a second. 'M leaving right now. Just sit down and breathe, baby."

You nodded, sucking in a tight breath, mumbling out an agreement. You felt like you were having a panic attack, but it was different than normal. Usually your thoughts went a mile a minute when you had one, but it was like your mind was blank, like everything shut down.

You hung up the phone, two minutes ago you were perfectly oblivious brushing your hair. And now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with shaky hands and tear lined eyes.

You sat on your bed and stared at the wall, doing times tables in your head to try to distract yourself. You'd gotten up to the 17s by the time you heard your front door open, then fast footsteps to your room. Colston's heart broke when he saw you sitting there, teary eyed and breathing sharply. He quickly came to you, kneeling between your spread legs bringing his hands to your face.

"Hey, gorgeous."

You giggled, knowing you probably looked a mess. Your hair was in a now messy low ponytail with pieces falling and you'd only woken up a half hour ago. You melted into his hold before shakily responding.

"Hi, Colst."

"You breathin' alright, baby?"

You felt your breaths slowing and steadying, nodding at your boyfriend and trying to smile.

When you fully calmed down, you laid back on your bed with Colston while he held you. He pulled the hair tie out of your hair to run his fingers through it.

your father was awfully mean.

You couldn't even fully comprehend the situation. How could your dad not tell you? It made you feel like you were in high school again. During your freshman year, your sister had just been born, and your brother was barely two. Your parents were so focused on them that your relationship with them was severely damaged and strained. They just assumed their fifteen year old would be able to handle herself while they tried to wrangle two babies. They missed a lot that year, and it hurt. It had made you feel like you weren't apart of your own family, you felt too old and too different.

That relationship continued for the next two years, though it had ups and downs. It took until you were a senior in high school for your parents to realize they'd been neglecting you. One night after a football game at your high school you'd gotten into a car accident with your friends. No one was seriously or fatally injured, but you'd fractured your wrist. You sat alone in the emergency room with no way of going home because your parents wouldn't answer the phone. You were still seventeen so they couldn't let you go before a parent or guardian came for you.

You sat being pitifully comforted by nurses for over two hours before your dad called you back.

"Hello? What's up?"

You felt tears pricking in your eyes, the dull ache in your wrist adding to the whirlwind of emotions spiraling through you.

"I'm in the ER. I've been here since 9. Some car t-boned us going through the big intersection after the game. We're all fine, but my wrist is broken."

You let out a shaky breath, you hadn't spoken to your dad too much in the past week. It was football season so he was gone a lot, and there were also three children five and under running around your house all the time. You sighed as you looked down at the dark green cast on your forearm, hoping you could somehow wish yourself out of existence.

your favorite color is green.

"Oh shit, what? Sorry baby, I've been at the stadium all night. Did you call mom?"

"Only twenty times."

"She's probably been dealing with the littles. But what's going on? Are you alright?"

"I mean yeah, it hurts but whatever. I can't leave until one of you gets here. You have to sign some papers, I don't know."

Jesse Minter didn't know what to do. He felt like the worst dad.

"Well um, I'm leaving the stadium now. I'll call mom, if she answers I'll tell her to head there, since she'd be there faster than I can. I love you, sweetheart. Okay? I'm sorry, baby."

"It's whatever, dad. Love you too."

You hung up, sitting back in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, eyeing the brace on your wrist. You told the nurse someone would be there soon, and she nodded with a sad smile. Your dad showed up almost forty minutes later, giving awkward smiles as the ER staff gave him dirty looks. You felt so embarrassed. Your parents don't care enough to pick up the phone.

That night was rough, though it was technically the next morning when you got home a bit after midnight. Your dad informed your mom of what happened while you sat grimly on the couch, your legs pressed to your chest.

Your mom had a rough night with the littles, and hadn't had any time to check her phone before she fell asleep. You had felt like a stranger when they sat across from you on the ottoman. They apologized over and over, that night had come as a realization for the two of them. They'd realized that you were still growing up, that just because you were so much older than your siblings didn't mean they should feel good leaving you by yourself. You sat still as your mom hugged you for a while. You'd completely forgotten the comfort it was to be held by your mommy, it made you feel little again. You cried a lot, though the people pleaser inside of you still tried to tell your parents you were fine, what they did was fine. It wasn't. And you weren't.

it reminds you of the summer you turned three, running through sprinklers on your street.

Since then you'd been closer than ever before with your parents, especially since your dad started coaching at Michigan the same year you started. But this situation, it made you feel like all the progress had been pulled out from under you. It felt like you were still sitting in that waiting room.

You fell asleep in Colston's arms as his warm hands ran up and down your back. He didn't worry knowing today, Monday, both of you had no classes or anything else. Your mom called you while you slept, so Colston took the liberty to answer it.

"Hey, this is Colston."

"Oh, hi hun. Is she alright? I know it's not right but Jess just didn't know how to tell her."

Colston looked down at you, brushing hair from your eyes before replyig to your mom.

"She was not very good earlier. She had a panicky thing about it. But she fell asleep a while ago."

Panicky thing. That's what you'd always called them. Your moms heart ached but melted at the way Colston was taking care of you.

"She's not as upset about you guys leaving as she is about not knowing."

Your mom sighed, she knew her little girl. Jesse had begged her to let him tell their eldest daughter, but he couldn't get the courage. Sometimes even forty year old fathers are frightened by their nineteen year old daughters reactions.

Colston heard faint talking in the background of the call. 'Is that her?', and 'No it's Colston. Yes he's taking care of her. Yes she's upset, Jess.' Colston couldn't help but be upset with your parents, they knew this would hurt you, and they still let it happen.

Colston said a few more things to your mom, as politely as he could before ending the call, snuggling back into you and falling asleep.

You woke up groggily, with a headache. You immediately noticed the sleeping tight end beneath you, warming your heart, even if for just a moment. You grabbed your phone, checking the time. It was just past noon, you'd been sleeping for a while. You saw texts from your mom and dad, groaning internally. All you wanted to do was power off your phone, throw it in a drawer, and go back to sleep with your boyfriend. But, you knew you had to talk to your parents. You shifted out of Colston's gentle hold, silently leaving the room until you heard his voice behind you.

"Baby? Where are y'going?"

and you laugh, and you dance in the wind.

You turned to see him. He looked so warm and comfy, the sight beckoning you back to your bed. You fought off the temptation, sticking to your mission.

"I have to talk to my parents, Lovey."

He nodded, shifting around to get comfortable again without you.

"I love you, gorgeous. I'll be right here if you need me. Believe it or not, I feel prepared to be rude to your dad in your honor."

You faux gasped, a light laugh leaving your mouth. Although, it was rather adorable. You knew how much your dad usually intimidated Colston. Him willing to get on his bad side for you was insanely sweet.

"I'll be back soon."

Colston gave you one last wink before you left the room, settling on the couch as you started looking through the messages you'd recieved.

and you sway, and you hug, and you kiss.

Apologies, requests to talk, more apologies. You sighed, rolling your eyes. You called your dad, and there were barely two rings before he answered.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hi."

You felt a pit in your stomach over the silence that began looming. You felt the trust in your father that had finally regrown over the last two years being taken from you.

"I'm sorry."

"Well I'd hope so."

You were starting to feel angry, the longer you sat there in silence, the more you felt your sadness being buried by malice.

"Why didn't you tell me? That's completely fucked! You were talking about it like you had no interest in leaving. I don't even care, leave all you want. But don't lie to me! I thought we were all finished not telling each other stuff, I thought you guys were gonna start thinking about how I felt. Having to find out from an Instagram post is a low ass blow. How long have you known you were leaving? Is the house for sale? When are you guys moving to Los Angeles?"

Holy shit. You'd never snapped at your dad like that. Jesse Minter was confounded, he had finally pushed you to your limit, and the aftershock was brutal.

"Baby, please. I couldn't tell you. We feel horrible leaving you here."

"So, what? Were you gonna leave a note on the door for the next time I come over for dinner? 'To our daughter, sorry, we left, we live in Los Angeles now. Was nice knowing you!'"

"No! No, we were gonna tell you soon but then I found out yesterday I had to tell the guys this morning. You were supposed to know before everyone else."

"That's not true. You've known since the championship, haven't you? Obviously the coaching staff knew! I can't believe you and mom. How long have the kids known? How long has it been a 'little secret we're keeping from sissy'?"

You waited for answers, any answers. Answers that your father stuttered out, guilt lacing every word.

"Yes. Me and Jim talked about it a couple days after the championship. I've known that if the opportunity came up I'd go for a while. I'm sorry, baby. I know it's bad. There's no excuse I could make to make it alright. I just want you to know that I'm sorry, and I love you. I wish I had talked to you about it, seriously. I just truly didn't know how to tell you, it's gonna be really hard for me to leave you here. You're my girl, my baby. But I know that you have so many people here that love and take care of you."

Your anger was slowly dissipating, the overall sadness coming back to you. You'd be without your family within an hour of you for the first time in your life. That was so scary.

but there's darkness behind those eyes.

You weren't truly angry with your family, you were afraid to be without them. If you knew you would've told him to go and live out his dreams. You were just scared to drift from them.

After talking to your dad a little longer, then to your mom for a while, you hung up the phone.

You felt tears prick in your eyes as you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. You took a few deep breaths, trying to figure out how you were gonna do this without them. You knew deep down everything would be okay, but that didn't stop the voices in your head from making you scared.

You heard light footsteps before seeing Colston peek his head around the archway. His eyes immediately softened seeing your position.

"Hey, coach. What's up, baby? You feel any better?"

You shrugged as he came to sit by you, sucking in a deep breath. His hand ran up and down your back, soothing you. You tried to give him a smile, but you still looked pitifully sad.

even when you smile.

"I don't know, Colst. It's just scary. My dad got the job here the same year I started here, so my whole family had moved here. I've never been far from them, I know it's immature but I'm scared."

oh, summer child.

"Hey, no. It's not immature, it's completely appropriate. You didn't get the homesickness of leaving your family when you came to college, and now that they're the ones going far away I know it definitely feels worse. Last year when we got here I was scared too. Especially after football ended and my parents weren't flying here every other weekend to see me play. I hated being alone. But, I found people that felt like family. I had the guys, other friends, this one really cute girl that barely gave me the time of day because she was way out of my league and her dad was one of my coaches."

you don't have to act like all you feel is mild.

You laughed, moving to hug Colston. He said the exact words you needed to hear. You thought about the people who filled your cup. Colston was obviously the first person who came to mind. But there were also all your other amazing friends, your best girl friend, a couple other football players, the group of girls you loved, and so many more.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Colston. I don't say that to you enough. My dad said on the phone that it was gonna be hard to leave me here but he knew there were lots of people here that love me and take care of me. I know he was talking about you. They love you a lot Colston."

you don't really love the sun, it drives you wild.

Colston was speechless. He felt real good about the fact that your parents felt comfortable to leave you in his care. They knew the extent of his love for you, and were in awe of just how perfectly he treated you. The princess treatment they knew their daughter deserved.

He squeezed you tighter, leaving a kiss on your neck.

"I love you, so 'm gonna take care of you. You mean more than anything t'me."

You mumbled the three words right back, holding him tightly.

you're a lying summer child.

You're laying in your bed. It's almost 8pm on Friday night and all you've done is rot since you got home from classes in the late afternoon.

It's been a couple days since finding out about your dad leaving. It's been a rough couple of days. You hadn't seen Colston since that day you found out, you were both so busy, and he'd had a large mix of practices, trainings, and physical therapy appointments over the last few days.

Colston texted, making you smile. He'd asked if he could call you, to which you immediately replied yes. You swipe the answer button the second the call popped up.

"Hi Lovey."

"Hi, gorgeous."

You could hear his smile, he was planning something.

"How would you like to go out tonight?"

"Like bar or date going out?"

"A date, coach, obviously. Can't take you anywhere, too many wandering eyes."

You laughed heartily, if Colston was with you you would've slapped his chest while his hands wandered below your hips. Ugh, is it obvious you missed his touch?

"Shut up, Colston. Thought you said you could fight?"

"Oh, of course I can. Don't doubt that for a second. I just don't appreciate other guys checkin' you out. But to be honest, they can look all they want and still won't be the one 'ya sleep with."

You told him to shut up again, your skin from your chest to your ears flaming. You talked to him for a little longer before he told you he'd pick you up in twenty five minutes, and to dress comfy and warm.

You were donning a large pair a sweatpants and one of Colston's hoodies when he knocked on your door. You opened the door with a giddy smile, immediately pulling him into your apartment.

"Hi baby."

You greeted him right before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. When you pulled away from him, you stepped back and realized you two were practically matching. Grey sweats and a navy Michigan hoodie.

"So you're trying to be me now?"

"Hello, you're in my sweatshirt, and my sweatpants? I'd say if one of us is copying the other, it isn't me."

"Actually these are my sweatpants, so."

Colston immediately turned you around, twisting the waistband of your sweatpants to look at the tag.

"Hm, that explains why there's 'C. L.' in sharpie on the tag."

Oh, maybe they were Colston's.

"Fuck you and your need to label all your clothing as yours."

You scurried away from him and back towards your room, opening your closet to pick out your shoes. You opted for your Ugg slippers, which of course were pretty much the same as the ones Colston had chosen to wear tonight.

One mirror picture of your matching outfits later, you were holding hands as you walked down to the car. It was early spring in Ann Arbor, but it still got pretty chilly in the night.

"So where are we even going?"

You realized you had no clue what you were doing, it reminded you of your first date. The drive in movie he surprised you with sent your heart soaring.

"It's a surprise, I know how much you love 'em."

You rolled your eyes playfully, thanking him as he opened the passenger door of his truck for you, holding your hand as he helped you in. You settled in and put your seatbelt on as Colston went around the hood, climbing in. His hand went straight to kneading your thigh once he'd put the truck in drive. Your wrapped your arms around his, as always pulling up his sweatshirt sleeve to trace over his tattoo.

Now whenever you drove with Colston, you kept staring when he turned to look. You didn't snap your head forward like a nervous tween girl, you'd smile deeply when he caught you looking, mumbling a greeting to him.

You drove for almost an hour, your music of choice playing through the car. Happy Instead by Zach Bryan played as Colston pulled to a stop in a rocky parking lot. You weren't really paying attention to where you'd been driving, but you smiled widely when you turned and saw the Lake Erie sign. He'd brought you to Stoney Point, where date #3 had taken place for the two of you, and now was a place where he took you every so often.

The small parking lot was semi-full, which was unusual, especially for this time of night.

"Know this week's been rough, sweetheart. Thought you'd like to come 'ere."

arent you way too busy, taking care of everybody, to take care of yourself?

You leaned over the center console, taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

"This is great, Colst. Thank you, baby."

You mumbled against his lips, kissing him again before turning to get out of the car. To which Colston reached and grabbed your hand, giving you a look that screamed, 'stay put.' so you did. Colston climbed out, going around the hood before opening your door, giving you a smile as he helped you down and out of the truck.

He held your hand as he guided you to the steps leading to the rocky sand. Once you got over the steps, your eyes immediately were attracted to the large bonfire a little ways down the shore. You saw the group surrounding the bonfire, before furrowing your eyebrows when you realized they were your friends. You turned to Colston, halting in your steps.

"What's going on, baby?"

"Well, we've all been thinkin' about you. We just wanted to hang out and be with you, sweetheart. Everyone's been wantin' to make sure you're okay."

when the sun goes missing, aren't the flowers just as pretty?

Your vision blurred with tears, you quickly turned to wrap your arms around Colston, thanking him repeatedly.

"You're so sweet, Colst."

He just laughed and kissed you, telling you you deserved it before pulling you down the shore. Once your friends caught sight of you, they were all shouting merrily towards you two.

Your best friend ran over, almost tackling you in a hug.

"Hi lovebug! Oh, I missed you so much!"

You felt the tears well up again, hugging her tightly.

"I missed you too, pretty."

aren't the oceans just as deep?

Once she let you go, you made rounds hugging everyone else, smiling especially wide when you saw some of Colston's teammates standing a little farther from the fire.

"Hi ladies."

You giggled as you approached them, JJ McCarthy immediately jumping to hug you tightly.

"Hey! How are you doing?"

"I'm alright, this has definitely improved my overall mood!"

You pulled away from him, going to hug Donovan, Blake, and Will. Colston came over to the five of you, wrapping his arm around your hips as you fell into conversation. You talked with them for a while before being beckoned over to a group of your girlfriends sitting in camping chairs on the opposite side of the fire.

As you walked away Colston's eyes followed you, his heart soaring seeing you smiling so brightly. The voice of Will across from him bringing his eyes from you.

the trees as green?

"Dude, you know we all like her and all. But, do you really think she didn't know about all of it?"

Colston's eyes darkened, his hand subconsciously pulling into a fist.

"What are you trying to say? That's she's lying to everyone? Fuck are you on, man?"

"Whoa, Will. Man, there's no need to be like that. She didn't know, that's why she's been so upset. Minter lied to her about it."

JJ talked Will down while Blake put his hand on Colston's shoulder, telling him to chill.

"Nah, bro. You don't come out here then pull this shit. We know you're fucking pissy he's leaving, don't try to be a dickhead about it. It's not her fucking fault. The only reason I'm not slapping the fuck out of you right now is because she's over there, and you're not about to ruin this for her."

and as for me, i'll watch you weep.

Colston turned and left his teammates, going to see what was up with the couple of hockey players that he'd invited.

You obliviously talked to your friends, smiling and giggling with them. You were pulled into one of your closest girlfriend's laps as you talked to them.

"Okay but seriously, how are you feeling? We felt horrible when Colston texted everyone about this."

"Honestly, I'm fine. I mean, I'm still really upset, but I'll get over it. I think it'll be whatever, I didn't think my dad would stay forever."

They nodded, sending sympathetic smiles your way. You gratefully accepted a Diet Coke from one of your friends as you continued to talk to them about everything. After a while, you got up and mingled with your other friends that were there. Your former dorm mate and the other girls from the old building stood with you for a little bit before you felt your hand being tugged.

You turned and made eye contact with Colston, smiling.

"Hi Lovey,"

You said it quietly, not wanting to interrupt the girls around you. He smiled, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"what's up?"

He shook his head before nodding down towards the water. You nodded, silently following behind him, hands still locked together.

oh, summer child.

He brought you right to where the last dry sand was, the water lapping a dozen or so feet in front of you. You leaned your head against the side of his shoulder, overwhelmed by how warm he was even in the cold of the night. He smelled like how he usually did, the cologne he used called "cosmic cowboy", and the eucalyptus of his shampoo. On top of the usual aroma was a layer of smoke, it danced around in your head until you felt dizzy.

"I love you, Colston. The most."

Your eyes felt heavy as you stared out at the water. The moon was almost full as it glowed over the lake, accented by tiny stars.

"I love you more than anything."

Warmth grew in your stomach, spreading to your heart.

"You know it's okay to be real' sad about this baby? You don't have to act like you're okay, especially not with me. I know how much it hurt you, gorgeous. You don't have to act like you are only ever happy. I don't want you to brush off your feelings anymore."

you don't have to act like all you feel is mild.

He said the words quietly, and full of nothing but love. It was true that you were acting like it didn't affect you like it truly did. That's what you'd had to do since your baby siblings had been born, you'd had to pretend everything was fine, even when it wasn't, you weren't. You turned and wrapped your arms around Colston's waist, his arms immediately enveloping your shoulders. You felt tears prick in your eyes as your forehead pressed against his collarbone.

"Thank you for caring for me. Thank you for always being the one to be there. You don't know how badly I needed you, need you."

you don't really love the sun, it drives you wild.

"'M always gonna be here, gorgeous. Never leavin' you alone. Stuck with me."

"Wouldn't wanna be stuck with anyone else."

You stood there silently, hugging on the shore. You were sure your absence didn't go unnoticed, but you didn't really care. You interrupted the peace with a thought.

"Does my dad leaving mean I can give you hickies now?"

Colston's perfect laugh cut through the soft aquatic air. He pulled away from you just a little, shifting to hold your face.

"That's what you're thinking about? Markin' me up now that your dad won't see?"

"I mean, I've been marking you up where he can't see, so."

One of Colston's hand moved to pat your ass as he pulled you into a intoxicating kiss, earning awes and whoops from your friends up the sand. You decided in that moment that everything would be okay.

you're a lying, summer child.

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