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#somebody needs to kiss him on the mouth and send him back to therapy
eddiesbuck · 1 year
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Maybe he has separation anxiety...
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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years
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Kai Taking Care Of You In Prison (2)
Taking Care of Kai in Prison (Part 1) is here, if you want to read it first! You don’t have to as the two don’t link that closely, but it’s of course recommended!
Summary- Kai finds it unfair that you have been conditioned to do everything yourself, so he helps take some weight of your shoulders, and makes an interesting promise for next time. 
Warnings- Not much. Really really dirty. I mean, really dirty. Words- 2.2k
Enjoy! :)
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Picking up a letter from the reception, you walk to Kai Anderson’s cell in the High Security wing. Since everything given to all the prisoners is checked prior, the letter is already open, so you push your finger inside the envelope and peel it back slightly, only to see a letter from Elite Genetics, with a small table saying Kai’s name and surname under “Alleged Father” and in the next column, 0%.
You take your hand out of the letter and take a deep breath at the bad news Kai is clearly going to receive. He had a habit of getting violent with other prisoners, only having not committed murder already because he’s on thin ice with the death penalty. When you buzz into the building and walk down the corridor towards with his cell at the very end, you tap the letter against your leg rhythmically, trying to hide and contain the slight excitement and arousal you feel from just being in his proximity. You were one of the toughest guards in this prison and you were not going to ruin your reputation and the respect the inmates had for you just because of one man, so you had to brace yourself.
You walk right into his cell and silently sit down opposite him. When Kai puts his elbow up on the table and straightens his pinky out, you fold the letter in half quickly and push it into your pocket to give him later. You link your finger with his and look him in the eye, desperate to hear what question has been floating around his head like a Windows screensaver. Since he sits in his cell for a vast majority of his day, he has nothing but time to think about you and ponder what he is yet to know about you. Honestly? There wasn’t much left.
“What one feeling fills you with dread?”, he asks. Your answers were meant to be as honest as possible, so you reply with the first thing that comes to your mind. Something that makes your stomach churn.
“Having to rely on other people, there was nothing I hated more in school that group projects”, you say with an almost disgusted expression. “I hate when people try to intervene when they don’t need to, I’ve always taken care of myself, I have to do everything for myself and I’m used to it, I know myself the best”
As always during your pinky power therapy sessions, you feel a slight relief after getting that out of you. Ironically enough, letting your emotions out and passing the weight over to Kai felt orgasmic, completely different than trying to deal with it yourself.
“It isn’t fair, is it?”
“No, just because you’re incapable of doing something yourself doesn’t mean I am”
“No”, Kai latches on straight after. “It isn’t fair that a woman like you should have to do everything herself, the world needs to stop being useless and learn how to help you”
You nod once in agreement, not sure how to interpret what he’s saying.
“Sit here”, Kai says before unlinking his finger from yours and patting the table in front of him. You hesitantly stand up and sit on the edge of the table, only for Kai to put his strong tattooed arms on your thighs and pull you closer to him. When you’re parallel to him, with your feet on his legs, he hums in approval and puts his hands behind you to pull your pants down, to which you comply. You lift yourself up off the table gently and he pulls your pants down, but leaves your bright red panties on, dropping your pants to the floor. When his eyes meet your underwear, he takes a big breath and slides his hands between your thighs, and tries to spread them.
“Let me do this for you”
He spreads your legs and takes a long look at your wettened underwear, before sitting back in his chair. You begin to get impatient as he simply sits and looks at your body, but finally when he looks deep into your eyes, your heart starts beating even faster.
“Touch yourself”
You bite the inside of your cheek and looks down at your thighs, before sliding your hands over them and squeezing them. Usually, foreplay and getting yourself turned on is the hardest part of masturbating, and you especially had troubles since your first sexual encounter with Kai. He set the bar so high that nothing you did to yourself could compare to the heavenly but rough touch from your first meeting. It was tough to admit it, but all orgasms since then suffered in comparison to the one after Kai made you ride his thigh. When you went home and thought about the lustful and forbidden love he gave you, your fingers didn’t have to do much to bring you over the edge, and even though the touch was yours, the orgasm belonged to him.
You rub your middle finger up and down your panties, making it instantly glisten, and look at Kai, hoping for encouragement, instead seeing him watch you impatiently with furrowed eyebrows.
“Rub your clit”
Every word that came out of his mouth turned you on, but still you questioned him.
“I don’t like being told what to do”
“No. You don’t like help. That’s very different”
His serious face was hard to say no to, and even though you didn’t exactly understand what he meant or where he was going, you still complied, and moved your underwear to the side. You place your fingers on your clit and rub slow circles, getting visibly more aroused when Kai looks down and watches. Masturbating wasn’t new to you but the feeling of being watched turned you on more than anything ever before. Already wanting more, you rub a little faster, cautious whether Kai will allow you to take control of the pace of not. You bite your lip as you touch yourself, your wetness dripping down, and making you hold in moans.
When your thighs almost close, Kai places his hands on them and grabs them tightly, spreading them wide open to his view. This encourages you to rub faster and though you feel hot with the impending orgasm, you wish with your whole body that he would take over. Just as that thought pops into your mind, Kai speaks up and his dark voice draws you in.
“Put a finger in”
You continue rubbing and hesitantly shake your head.
“I don’t like fingering”. Kai snickers at your response.
“If you don’t like it, you must not be doing it right”
You bite down harder on your lip when you hear that, aching for Kai to touch you, but to your surprise, he doesn’t and simply watches.
“Of course, I’d be more than happy to help”, Kai stands up and leans closer to you.
“But you don’t allow help, do you?”. His cockiness makes you shiver, and you struggle becoming fully submissive to him. The idea of begging was below you. But Kai knew the effect he had on you, and stood there with his eyebrow raised, waiting for you to break. It wasn’t a matter of whether you would, it was a matter of when.
“I’ll allow it”. You whisper to him, making him chuckle.
“You’re not doing me a favour”
You stop touching yourself, the feeling in your stomach long gone, and look away, not being able to look someone, anyone, in the eye and beg for them to help you. The weakness in admitting you can’t do something as good as somebody else was too much for you, no matter how wet you were for Kai.
“Please”. The pathetic sound was almost inaudible, but still clearly loud enough for Kai, who was a mere few centimetres away, to hear. But Kai isn’t going to let a chance to hear you beg slide. He leans closer to your ear.
“What was that?”
You breathe in a hitched breath and Kai cups your cheek to force you to look at him. His other hand remains on your thigh rubbing ever so slowly, making you implode out of impatience, and inches closer to your inner thigh. The burning feeling of his touch not where you want it breaks you.
“Please touch me”
Kai smirks and leans in to kiss you, brushing his lips against yours, making you desperate.
“Say it again”
“Please touch me, I beg”
Finally pleased, Kai leans back, spreads your legs and brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, making you put your arm around his neck, already knowing the long-lasting effects his touch will undoubtedly have on you.
“If you don’t like it, you’re not doing it right”
With that said once again, he plunges two fingers inside of you, and points them up, making you gasp and instantly try to close your legs. You fight against it, knowing how far Kai will go to prove his dominance. But he still notices, and wraps your legs around his torso, unable to shut, and thrusts his stiff fingers in and out of you. You hiss at the feeling and put your head against his chest, becoming completely lax and letting him do to you whatever he pleases. He curls them up and thrusts them faster, inviting the previous unfinished orgasm to return. You find yourself on the edge embarrassingly quickly, and when he places his thumb over your clit once more, you whine against his chest, hoping for him to tell you when to let go.
He puts his head on top of yours and moans in satisfaction at you clench around his fingers. He fingers you faster, eventually leaning into your neck, and using one word to send your body into bliss.
“Now”
You cum on demand for him, but he doesn’t slow his fingers, digging around inside of you, scooping all the wetness you give him and shoving it in and back out of you. You shake your legs around him and he holds one in his arm with a tight possessive grip.
Not giving you much time to recover, he forces you to stand up and spins you around. You put your hands on the table in front of you, covered in release, and Kai puts his large hand on your back and pushes you down, making you bend over the table. You ignore the cum inches away from your face, completely focused on the impending fucking you’re about to receive, bent over the table.
“Clean it up”
You try to look over your shoulder at Kai, but he pushes your neck further into the table, right in front of the pool of cum you left. You’re left baffled by his actions and furrow your eyebrows, trying to find the words to say, assuming that, surely, he isn’t insinuating that-
“Lick it clean”
“I’m not gon-”
Kai leans into your neck and barks, “You made the mess, you’re gonna clean it up”
He looks at you with his hypnotizing black eyes and an angry expression, before tangling your hair between his fingers and gripping it tightly. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping to soften him up, before quickly accepting your fate, his eyes looking angrier by the second. Kai pulls your head up a little, holding his two fingers in front of your mouth. You open your mouth obediently, somehow not as grossed out by licking your cum off his fingers. He wriggles and thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, before slowly sliding them down, making you stick your tongue out to follow them.
He shoves your head into the table, cum immediately covering your tongue, and slides your head around. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, wanting to get it over and done with, and Kai mops up the mess you made by your hair, while your tongue remains frozen in place. When you’re almost done, he pulls your head up and pushes your tongue back in your mouth, covering your lips with his hand afterwards until you swallow. Which you do, almost instantly, avoiding as much of the taste as you can. He slowly lets go of your hair and smiles at your actions, while you straighten yourself out and look at him completely humiliated.
Kai nods towards your pants on the floor, and you pick them up and put them back on, looking the other direction. But Kai watches you get dressed, smiling at any negative feelings you may have. When you zip your pants up and run your hands down them to flatten them, Kai walks over to you and breathes into your neck.
“Maybe I can have a taste next time”
His words make your knees weak, and you nod at him, before promptly walking out of his cell and locking it.
Though the humiliation stays with you for the rest of the day, his words do too. The mental image lingers in your mind and you drive so distracted that you barely make it home that night. When you finally close the door behind you at your house, your mind still constantly on your special inmate, you get undressed slowly, feeling used and dirty but at the same time, ecstatic. Taking off your creased pants, you feel the pocket and a lightbulb lights up in your mind when you slither out the letter you were meant to give him. You mentally smack yourself for forgetting the one responsibility you had today, but your heart and thighs tingle, realizing you need to pop by his cell tomorrow.
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Prompt : they are both famous and secretly dating.
tbh I don't know what this is or if it makes any sense at all, so sorry anon for butchering ur prompt, but I'm a basic bitch and I like my drake, so like this is gonna be pain bcuz my favourite song on the new album is just pain and I can't stop thinking about a fucked up celebs relationship to it, just ANGST AND PAIN!! 😭😭 but those lyrics hit, can't believe I wrote a song fic ugh circa Tumblr 2015 jfc I'mma write a happier ending to this in another prompt 😂 bc someone else asked for the same thing.
Fucking Fans
I'm still working on me
Eren stands at the Met Gala, holding Mikasa by the waist, giving a cramped smile for photos and keeping her close. People call their names and cameras flash and his beloved blinks, hiding her face into his shoulder as the lights overwhelm her.
He looks down at her lovingly as some jackass reporter yells about a cheating rumour and her pretty face pinches up. Eren is quick to comfort her with his touch, both hands gripping her waist reassuringly as he decides it's time for them to go inside.
"Come on Miki," he kisses her forehead and she nods, accepting. Neither of them wants to think about those rumours, the damage and the pain they bring up is too much and it's all his fault, he knows, but he can't undo it.
The guilt eats at him and she holds his hand tighter, the despair takes him and she cuddles him at night.
They're together now but sometimes Eren wonders just how it happened, how he came back from falling so far. How she took him back when he fucked up so massively.
And I'm coming back better for you
The day he shows up on her door step again is the day of the biggest awards show of the season, the one he knows she's going to kill and probably sweep several categories. Just because she's that amazing. He finds her where he expects, in her apartment, the address Armin gave him, doing her own hair and makeup, humble Mikasa just like always, ironing out her own dress. He shows up in a suit with as many white roses as he can fit into a bouquet and ready to leave if she still hates him, which she has every right to.
But he's been through months of therapy, gave Armin control of his bank account, and check himself into rehab thrice, every time he was even inching closer to relapse.
He's not fixed, but he's better, marginally, and he wants her to know it, know he still loves her at the very least.
She opens the door, beautiful even without makeup, and wearing a white slip and her pretty red mouth parts in shock.
All he can do is hold out his roses as tears leave his eyes at seeing her for the first time in months.
Most times it was my selfishness and your helplessness that I took advantage of
It was so easy with Mikasa, she was so devoted to him. So loving and sweet, always there for him.
She'd wait up, let him do what he wanted, never wanting to stifle or control him. Too afraid their tenuous relationship would crack and they'd break up.
A part of him blames her for it, for being so willing to let him do what he wanted. She'd been passive, unsure how to insert herself, had minimal complaints, letting him ruin his life party by party, late night after late night, drugs and alcohol all of it.
But he knows he can never hold her accountable for his own actions, and the day she's finally done with his bullshit is both the best and worst day of his life. She finally says no, and it begins his path to fixing himself. Because hitting rock bottom is losing the most important thing in his life, and that's Mikasa.
You sit in the house and I be out and I know you're worried, up
The problem with her passivity is he knows it's not passivity at all, she just doesn't know what to do, how to fix him. Eren has always had a temper, and she's known him for a long time, knows he'll lash out and behave worse if provoked. So she'd reacted as best she could, leaving rehab pamphlets out, asking him to stay in and watch movies, bake with her, anything other than going out to party.
But he'd stumble home every night and see her asleep on the couch, waiting. Always there to pick him up instead of a cab, not wanting the paparazzi to get a hold of him, she was always there.
And you try and block it out
They lived in a bubble, they pretended it didn't happen. They didn't acknowledge when he was too hungover to shoot the next morning. She'd brew him coffee, get him through the day, flush his drug stash when they checked, both his saving grace and biggest enabler.
Even when he's kissing her for more than just an on-screen kiss, lips drinking her in like a man starved, and the next morning she finds new girls in his bed, she keeps quiet.
They're a mess, but every time she dutifully kicks the girls out and drags him to the shower.
I'm so sorry for letting you down
When he'd first become famous, he hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd been scouted for how many movies, tv-shows, underwear commercials, brand deals. It was a whirlwind as Hollywood found their new boy wonder, handsome, smart and a nice boy.
His best friend, and female love interest in their debut movie, Mikasa, who had followed him to Hollywood on nothing more than a whim, was equally bombarded with fame and fortune. They'd always been close, always best friends, but never quite more, no matter how much they both obviously wanted it. It never progressed beyond a few acted kisses.
Still, they got an apartment together, and Eren had thought it was the start of something great, he was living the dream. Rich and famous with his best friend, the girl he'd secretly loved since he was young.
He'd been content just to stay up late and watch movies with her before work, to visit her on set and bring her donuts. They were Hollywood's shining stars, two kids sickeningly sweet in love even though they weren't officially dating, they were as good as.
At the advice of his agent, he'd started doing more, started picking up a few other gigs on the side, modelling, but he kept it small, he didn't want to overwhelm himself, and he still wanted time for Mikasa.
It had gone well, they'd taken fame okay, and Eren had been proud, neither of them had a sex-scandal or a pregnancy scare yet. They'd even been inching towards finally being something more than just friends, a few heated looks, some on-stage kisses to finally get the ball rolling.
Then Mikasa had been cast in an upcoming romance movie and her love interest hadn't been Eren, it had been Jean.
That had been the start of his spiral.
He'd never meant for it to get so far out of control, how many movies he started doing, how many promotions. Meanwhile Mikasa, smart, brilliant Mikasa stuck with smaller projects and only ever one at a time, preferring to keep close to their apartment. He was all she had, and she was all he wanted.
Nights when I just needed to hold somebody
He misses her, lays in bed awake at night thinking about her, how long it’s been, when was the last time he saw the curve of her face in person and not in a washed-out picture on a magazine. Girls in and out of his apartment, trying to fill the empty void inside him, and nothing works, nothing ever works. Because he’d fucked it up, said he didn’t need her, told her he could do it on his own, fame wouldn’t take him. Called each other names, every one in the book, screaming matches over stupid shit, if he should take that job, what she was doing with Jean, how she was eating, if she was eating enough.
The toxicity was palpable in their apartment until finally Mikasa just left and he broke.
Feeling overwhelmed, should've told somebody
Fame takes him like a drug addiction, actually it comes with a drug addiction, heroine, cocaine, molly, all of it. In trying to ditch his Hollywood’s sweetheart, good boy image he diverts his life so radically he doesn’t know if he can ever get back to where he was. He loses weight, barely gets by, he doesn’t even understand how he’s still getting booked, but people want him even more now that he’s Hollywood’s bad boy. Meanwhile Mikasa is disgraced now that he’s ‘thrown her away’ even though it was the other way around. Last he heard she lived in a little apartment on the upper east side, leaves only to work, and to fly up to see their families. He hasn’t seen his parents in months, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realize how skinny he’s gotten, how his body lacks muscle, skin barely clinging to bone, gaunt and lifeless.
He needs help, but he’s spiraling, he’s committed and no matter how many times Armin tries to get him into rehab, he never goes. What’s the point Mikasa is gone, he’s not getting her back, all he has now is the money, the drugs, and the women.
Picturin' it's me sending chills through your body
He hears she’s dating Jean now and somehow, he gets worse.
Every fear he’d ever had comes to life and he gets angry, his temper coming back full force. The past few months he’d barely been getting by, not really living, but his rage awakens him. She’d told him no, that they weren’t dating, never so much as kissed outside of work. What a fucking lie.
How many girls he takes home that month he doesn’t know, how many paparazzi photos of women leaving his apartment, how he dreams it’s Mikasa under him, not some rando.
He sees her on the cover of some magazine, walking innocently with Jean and it sends him into even more of a rage, but under it all he wishes it was him, doesn’t matter that they were never official, that it only happened a few times, he wants her back. But Eren’s never been good at navigating his emotions, so he clings to his rage like a lifeline.
I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you
When they ask about her in interviews, he doesn’t answer. Not until that once, when he lets it slip and he watches Armin wilt in real time from behind the camera as he spits the words, “I think it’s obvious, she’s with Jean now isn’t she, right after she was with me, figure it out yourself.”
The insinuation is lethal, cruel, mean and he knows it’s not true, but he says it anyway. He knows she didn't do it, but still the coincidence hurts too much, the very thought that there might have been something romantic going on with them before makes him want to throw up.
The interviewer looks shocked before he brightens up at the tidbit of information, like a vulture picking apart the last pieces of his heart, massacring it further, but Eren doesn’t mind the pain anymore. It fuels his rage and that’s all he has these days.
How am I supposed to get to know somebody?
When the rage wears off months later and Mikasa has done nothing, no comment on his interviews, no appearances, no angry texts, just silence, he becomes numb. Then the sadness sets in, because losing her romantically isn’t even the worst part, he doesn’t even have his best friend anymore, he’s lost her too.
She’s become a recluse, a hermit, he hasn’t even seen her with Jean on the magazine covers lately. Distantly he knows it’s because their movie is finished filming, and she was probably never dating him in the first place.
He goes to awards shows in hopes of at least catching a glimpse but she’s gone into hiding, there’s rumours she’s back in their hometown, but he’d never visit, not with the disgrace he’s become. He tries to date seriously, tries to talk to other actresses, but it’s all so vacant, disingenuous. All they want him for is his image, there’s nothing real about these women anymore, everything is fake, plastic right down to their boobs. Nothing like Mikasa, who was pure to her core, even in the face of her fame.
If we broke it off then you know it wasn't painless
He'd cried for weeks after she'd ended it, despite it being entirely his fault.
Armin had cancelled all his engagements and Eren hadn't left the apartment, curling himself up on her empty mattress, her room a barren wasteland.
He'd only eaten when Armin forced him too, and only come out of his hibernation after his mother had called to yell, Armin holding the phone right in his ear, the first time he'd spoken to her in forever.
If she got a watch then you know it's not a stainless
He’s got money, but it means nothing. Mikasa has money too, it doesn’t even matter. What has it all been for? He doesn’t even know anymore. All he’s gotten from his acting career is trust issues, more money than he knows what do with and the loss of his best friend and the only girl he’s ever loved.
It’s all a blur now, he acts, he models, he does PR. Armin makes him a schedule and he follows it. They meet with his nutritionist and his personal trainer, and he starts working out again, eating real food, not just smoking, and drinking coffee to supress his appetite.
Armin is the only reason he’s still a functioning human being as Eren hits rock bottom. The only one left to try and push him out.
I was out here fucking fans, I was shameless
He knows he fucked up, it’s why he starts therapy.
The shit he’d done, high off his own fame and arrogance, it’s messed up and he he knows it now. All the girls, all the money and the drugs, ignoring Mikasa’s concerns, dragging her down with him.
He doesn’t blame her now, he knows none of it was fair, she was justified in leaving. They were toxic, their half on, half off relationship, how he'd commit to the drugs but never her.
He can still remember the first time he kissed her, really kissed her, Eren and Mikasa not two characters on screen. It was after their first awards show for their movie, he’d been so excited, so delightfully sober, he couldn’t help himself, she’d been so pretty in her white dress, he’d leaned down before he could stop himself. The first night they’d had sex, her moans, her soft cries of pleasure, nothing had ever measured up since.
It had been bliss, for about a month or so and then they’d really been discovered, and it had all been shot to hell.
All the fans, all the women throwing themselves at him, his eyes couldn’t help but wander despite Mikasa always being the most radiant in the room. He had her love, he’d had everything, but that insidious voice in the back of his head had wondered. Thought the grass was greener on the other side, wanting to explore fame at the same time they’d finally started their relationship.
You was at the crib reading stories that they sent you
They’d kept it casual at Eren’s insistence and Mikasa’s heartbreak, his rock had been willing to allow it for him, for the chance to finally explore their relationship. But he could see how much it hurt her, the tabloids were the worst part, every day a new cover, another apartment he’d leave, another hookup in the parking lot. And he could barely justify it to himself, why he did it, why he continued to do it? He had everything he could ever want in Mikasa, the girl he’d loved since forever, finally in the palm of his hand, willing to give herself wholly to him.
And yet fame had called him more, and the people he was hanging out with only encouraged it, the famous lifestyle, drugs, sex and rock and roll.
Everyone was doing it, so why shouldn’t he?
Most of that was bullshit but some of it I did do
The rumours spiralled out of control after a while, there was nothing he could do, it was over, they had too much on him.
He'd been telling himself lies that maybe she was with Jean on the side, that she had the same opportunities as him, she could go out and sleep around too.
As if Mikasa would ever even consider it.
He’d finally given into being exclusive, seeing the toll it was taking on Mikasa, after Armin smacked him upside the head and told him he was going to lose her if he didn’t get his shit together. Eren had finally realized how irreversibly he was fucking up his relationship, but by then, it had been too late.
When they finally started truly dating, monogamy and all, it had been far, far too late. The backlog of photos the paparazzi had was ridiculous, any opportunity they got to demonize him they took.
He and Mikasa been casual at the time of all the photos, sure, but anyone would buckle under the weight of constant articles about their significant other cheating. Eren became the villain in his own story, and Hollywood loved it, ‘Bad Boy Eren Yeager Ditches Mikasa Ackerman’. He still remembers the headline, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, she’d come home, dropped the offending magazine on the coffee table and hidden in her room for the rest of the night. He’d slept outside her door, and the next morning he’d been woken by her stepping over him to leave, bags packed.
It was sad, they’d never even officially dated to the public, they hadn’t gotten to that point. She’d wanted to reveal it at some awards show by taking him as her date, thanking him in her speech, her boyfriend, Eren Yeager. Overnight the paparazzi had singlehandedly broken them up for shit he hadn’t even done.
He had no one but himself to blame.
Hard for me to justify the women I was into
Looking back, he can’t say why he did it or what the purpose of all the models that looked eerily like her were for. Maybe he was trying to fill the empty space in his heart, maybe he felt neglected by her friendship with Jean and how obvious the man’s feeling for her were, but for one reason or another, he’d slept his way through about half of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and award shows were awkward these days. Meeting the eyes of all the talented women he’d hooked up with in such a professional setting was uncomfortable at best.
How many more did he not even remember, to high off drugs and alcohol and his own ego?
Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you
He’d seen it in how Jean looked at her the first time they’d walked the red carpet as promotion for their movie. The tall man was a b-list actor and he’d been invited to the pre-screening, and he’d watched Mikasa the entire night. His gaze wasn’t moved by Eren’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist or his chin resting on her head, nor the possessive hand on her thigh.
They hadn’t even been fooling around back then, but he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want Jean’s eyes on her. She was also Mikasa Ackerman, and the whole world thought she was just as beautiful and amazing and perfect as he did.
But she was his. His best friend, love of his life, his everything
If only he’d treated her like it.
Probably made you want to hit the streets on everything
She doesn't take him to the awards show the night he comes begging, but she lets him inside her apartment. Lets him help her with her hair, something he's sorely missed. Something he's familiar with, been braiding her hair since they were kids.
He helps her put it up into a beautiful twist.
And when Jean knocks at her door to take her to the awards show he lets her go, kisses her cheek and tells her how much he loves her, how she's going to win it all and he'll be waiting her when she gets back.
And then she leaves, walks away with another man and Eren thinks he deserves it, it's his penance, how many times has she felt this same way, how many women has he been through?
Probably made you want to pour bleach on everything
He discovers not a single remnant of himself in her apartment, no pictures, no clothes she's borrowed. Even his old sweatshirt, her favourite one is gone. Hell, even their award for best-onscreen-kiss is gone.
He finds it all in a crumpled box under her bed and it's his own fault for snooping, their photo crumpled up and misshapen, riddled with water damage. Probably from her tears if he had to guess.
Probably made you want to kill me on everything
She comes home that night and Eren is surprised, he'd expected her to go to Jean's. Hadn't really believed she was going to come back. Had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch and waiting till tomorrow when she'd come home dishevelled and covered in hickeys and bruises, the kind good sex gives you. The kind he'd never really allowed himself to give her.
That's when she'd really broken and he'd been so fucking happy when she'd thrown her purse at him. No more of her her silent rage, her forced smiles. She'd kicked and screamed, cried in his arms only to hit him brutally with a pillow, chasing him to the end of the couch. Hands restraining his wrists, as she curses him out, tears running down her beautiful cheeks sparkling in the moonlight, she's a vengeful goddess and he deserves every second of her wrath.
She collapses on top of him in a heap of sobs and all he can do is hold her, hating himself just as much as he's sure she does.
Yeah, trust, I know that
He wakes the next morning with her weight in his arms, and he holds her like he never wants to let go.
He's lucky she's even here with him right now, that she didn't kick him out on the spot. That she even cares enough to still fight with him. He kisses her forehead softly, he knows.
Yeah I kinda hate this but whatever have angst 🤷🏻‍♀️
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amor-immortalem · 2 years
Text
I think I'm OKAY part 2
Previous
Once she’s fully asleep, Mammon wraps her up in whatever blankets he can find. It was colder tonight than it usually was so he wanted to make sure she was all bundled up before he flew them home for the night. He locked up the House before transforming into his demon form and taking off for home.
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The only one up at home when Mammon landed was Arella. She opened the door for him as he carried their daughter inside and set her down on her bed before rejoining his wife down in the living room. He frowned as he sat on the couch.
“We’ve been horrible parents,” Arella says as she leaned against his shoulder.
“Her greed is eating her alive... She’s just skin and bone...” The demon lets out a sigh as he leans back against the cushions of the couch. “Where did we go wrong?”
Arella doesn’t answer because she doesn’t one. After a short silence she sighs. “What’s done is done. All we can do is make up for the damage we caused with her now before it gets any worse. We should look into therapy for her too.”
“She’s not gonna talk ta a shrink, you know that.” Mammon looks over at his wife. “She only talks ta people she trusts...”
“Yes, I know, honey, but if she won’t talk to us about these things, she needs to talk to somebody. And stranger things have happened so you never know what could happen. I’ll spend the rest of the night with Azalea in case she wakes up and see if I can get her to be honest with me. If not, then I’ll call Lucifer in the morning and see who he sends Solaris to see for his therapy.”
“Solaris is in therapy? Since when?”
“After finding out about his mother’s death. Your brother thought he might be harboring some guilt over it so as a precautionary measure he put Solaris in therapy. It’s always good to have someone to talk to and be sure it won’t get back your parents somehow, you know?”
Mammon nods. “Alright... as much as I think she’ll just end up wasting their time... it couldn’t hurt either... I know I’m s’pposed to go out with the boys tomorrow but I think I should just spend it with ‘Zay instead.”
“I think that’s a great idea. I’m sure the boys will understand. And if they don’t, I’ll just explain what’s going on right now.”
The Avatar of Greed nods as he sits up and rubs his eyes. “Ya know, I had ta pick the lock on her door ta even get in ta talk to ‘er... She wouldn’t even answer the door for me and then I immediately stuck my foot in my mouth- jus' like I always do. It makes me wonder... what happened to us? She and I used ta be so close- practically inseparable and now I can’t even talk to her for two seconds without getting inta a yellin’ match with her. ”
“We’re always so busy with everything that she got left behind when we didn’t mean for that to happen. It doesn’t help that every time she gets herself in trouble lately, we’ve done nothing but yell at her instead of doing what we should be doing and getting her side of the story... I think we need to take a different approach to all that. Actually sit down and have a proper conversation about what happened.”
“It’s probably cuz she’s seekin’ out our attention- you know how the sayin’ goes: any attention is good attention... I can’t believe I didn’t see how it works for her sooner. Ya’d think as the Avatar of Greed I should know every possible way it would manifest- and I do but... but I just assumed that since both Cyrus and Aurelius are satisfied with money and material objects that it worked the same for our daughter but it doesn’t... I feel like I failed as her father.”
“I know you feel horrible about this- I do too,” The human pulls him into a hug. “But things are going to get better now.” She kissed his forehead. “Go on and head off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
The white-haired demon only nods as they both head upstairs only Arella continues down the hall to check on Azalea. She stops just short of the door when she notices that there’s a lamp on and there’s a whispering noise coming from inside the room.
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“Why didn’t you tell anyone that it was literally eating you alive?” Aurelius’ voice is soft to keep their parents from hearing their conversation.
“And what was I s’pposed to say, ‘Relius? ‘Hey, mum, dad, you’re killing you child because you refuse to pay attention to her’? I’d panic them and then they would only be spending time with me out of pity. I only want to spend time with them if they genuinely want to spend time with me and... I don’t think they do. They’d rather spend it with you two or the baby...” Azalea grumbles as she leans against her brother’s shoulder.
“That’s not true. They’re just busy with-”
“Cyrus?” she cut him off with an annoyed tone. “Yeah, I get it.”
“I was going to say life,” The teen deadpans. “What’s your deal with him anyway? You really don’t have a right to be upset with him about anything.”
“It’s not him I’m upset with- I don’t really care one way or the other about him. It's our parents- well more like dad... I feel like he lied to me all my life. He could have at least told me I wasn’t next in line... I built my entire identity on being his heir and now that I’m not... well I don’t know who I am or what to do with my life anymore...”
“Well, what are you good at? I can list a few things.”
“Yer full of shit. ‘m not good at anything but getting into fights, fuckin’ things up, and causin’ trouble.”
Aurelius rolls his eyes, “No I’m not. You’re good at playing video games, you’re the only one that I know who can match Dad’s skill level when it comes to card games, you like to sing and you’re pretty decent at it too. You can draw pretty decently too and you like to sew as well.”
“None of that shit’s a viable career path though.” She grumbles. “What’s it even matter though? I don’t have a purpose anymore.”
“Do you need a purpose right now though? I still don’t know mine yet either, but my take on it is this: live right now and we’ll find our purpose for existing later. If you really need one right this minute, make your own. Not the next Avatar of Greed? That’s fine, you can be the role model that teaches our little brother how to stand up for himself, be proud to be a part of this family and not take shit from other demons who only want to tear him down for being a half-demon. And when you fulfil that think of something new.”
Azalea snorted at that. “I’m not role model material and aint no way in hell am I teachin’ that pipsqueak how ta stand up for himself. That’s something he’s gotta figure out on his own like we did or learn it from mum and dad.”
“My point was that you don’t need a purpose to live, ‘Zay.” Aurelius sighs. “Just be happy in the moment and worry about the rest later. Besides, being constrained to one thing your whole life just isn’t a you type of thing. Whenever I turn around you’ve always got your hands in something new so just follow that and you’ll find what you want to do with the rest of forever.
It was at this that Arella decided to make her presence known to the twins. “Aurelius is right, Princess.”
At the sound of their mother’s voice both twins stiffened.
“Mum?”
“Thank you for trying to make your sister feel better, dear. Go on back to bed and I’ll sit with her now.”
The boy only nods as he gets up with his spot soon to be replaced by Arella. She sat down next to Azalea who was still wrapped up in the blankets Mammon had brought her home in. They sat in silence for a while.
“You can go to bed. Don’t wanna keep ya up all night, Mum.” Azalea says as she draws the blankets closer around herself.
“No, that’s quite alright. I want to spend the time with you right now when I can be sure no one is going to come along and try to snag my attention elsewhere. Even if we have to sit in silence.”
“Ya really don’t have ta... I know you’re tired.”
“No, I’m really fine. I want to spend this time with you. If you don’t feel like talking about what’s going through your mind, we can talk about other things. So... did you ever finish that book you bought recently?”
The teen pauses as she eyes her mother from the corner of her eye debating on whether she should answer- whether she should let her back into her life after months of hurting her. “... Yeah. It was really good. I’m glad Uncle Satan recommended it to me.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that. And how’s school going? Still perfect grades?”
“Yeah, it’d be better if we weren’t practically breezing through our course material.”
“Are you struggling with it? You can always come to me and Dad if you have questions and we’ll try to help the best we can.”
“I don’t think either of ya would be much help,” Azalea turns her head away. “Thanks, though.”
“And why’s that? It’s not like we’re unfamiliar with the curriculum completely.”
“It don’t really matter, just... trust me on it.” Should she tell her? She probably wouldn’t care. “Jus’ know it’s a lotta work.”
“Advanced courses tend to be. I already knew we wouldn’t be of much help but I still thought I’d offer anyway- leave the door open for you as an option.”
“Wait, you already knew? Why didn’t ya say anything sooner?” Now Azalea just feels a little hurt that her mother knew and never told her she was proud of her.
“Dad and I have known since the end of middle school. I didn’t want you to think I was snooping in your personal business since you’re a teenager now and don’t need your parents constantly in your business. I was waiting for you to tell us but I guess you already tried and we just weren’t paying attention, huh?”
“Yeah...” the half demon laughed softly, “I tried to show ya my report card from the final year of middle school, but y’all just didn’t wanna see it. I mean I guess it wasn’t really all that important since my grades and citizenship marks were the same as they always were. In hindsight, I prolly shoulda just came out and said it.”
“Yes, probably, but your father and I should have also asked you about it as well. We know we’ve messed up really badly and if you’ll let us, we’d like to make it up to you.”
“Just don’t ignore me anymore... there aren’t any more meets to go to this year since the season ended today- we won by the way thanks to my record settin’ high jump.”
“That’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.” The human wraps her arms around her daughter. “I knew you’d be amazing at this. We should do something tomorrow to celebrate it, just the two of us.”
“R-really? But... don’t you have things to do tomorrow? You’re leaving for the human world again soon right? Isn’t there stuff you have to finish up before you leave? And doesn’t Dad have plans with Cyrus and Aurelius tomorrow. That means you’ll have Mahlon.”
“It can wait. Believe it or not, you’re more important to me. And I’m sure Dad would take your little brother to help us out.”
Azalea blinked, unsure. This is what she wants right? It’s all she’s wanted for some time now and yet she can’t bring herself to accept the invitation because it would mean inconveniencing one of her parents.
“N...No... that’s alright. Another time... Maybe after you get back if you still want to. Your work is important so you shouldn’t put it off just for me.”
“Baby... your greed-”
“It's alright,” she looks away, “Really, it is...Look, I’m tired. I just wanna go back ta bed right now.”
Arella frowns as she studies the sudden shift in mood in the half-demon. It almost looks like she thinks... “Azalea, do you think you’re not worth Dad and me putting our work on hold for a few days?”
The blue and gold eyed girl shook her head as she looked anywhere but her mother’s face. She wasn’t good enough for them before this. Why would she be good enough now?
“I see. Honey, I think you should see a therapist... if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that you shouldn’t bottle these feelings up like this. It’s only going to hurt you more.”
“I said it was fine, Mum. I don’t need ta see a shrink. What, do ya think I’m crazy or something? That there’s somethin’ wrong with me and I need ta be fixed?”
“No, of course not. But you need to talk to someone and I know from personal experience it can be very hard to talk about feeling unwanted, or abandoned, or neglected with parents or people close to you. I just... I want you to feel okay again and I promise you it will feel so much better once you get it off your chest.
And if you’re still iffy on the idea, know that everything you talk about is confidential in there. Dad and I won’t hear a word of it unless you are actively planning to harm yourself somehow, okay?”
“Okay... I’ll try it- but only cuz ya asked me too. Don’t the wrong idea ‘bout it.” She laid down on the bed and pulled the blanket over her head. “G’night.”
“Good night, Princess.” Arella says as she has to hold back a laugh. Sometimes she’s reminded of just how similar her daughter and husband are.
------------------------------------------------------
It’s two months later and things seem to be going better. Thanks to her conversation with her twin that one night in combination with therapy and small doses of anti-depressants Azalea had found herself at peace with not having a purpose- the abandonment issues and general feelings of being unloved and unworthiness were still there, just not as prevalent as they had once been.
As the teen girl hops into the front seat of her father’s car, he wakes with a start.
“Damn, kid, yer gonna give your old man a heart attack.” Mammon rubs his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Ya gotta gimme at least some warnin’”
“Yer the one that fell asleep in the car,” She teased. “What, are ya getting that old where ya jus’ fall asleep at odd hours of the day? Maybe we should put ya in a nursing home and let Cyrus take over your job if yer at that point.”
“You are a horrible child, makin’ fun of my age like that, lil’ girl. I’m still plenty young, for your information.” Mammon starts the car. “So, whatcha wanna do now?”
“I kinda just wanna go home. I could use a nap myself before that mma match on tv starts...” she hummed. “Maybe that’s something I could do in the future...”
“Please don’t,” the demon pales. “I don’t think I could handle watchin’ ya get the snot beat outta ya if ya get an opponent that’s stronger than you...”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. No one can lay a finger on me.” She gives her father a toothy grin as he drove them home.
“Later, we can watch a movie or somethin’ together, yeah?“
“I’d love that,” The half-demon smiles as she watches the city fly by outside the window. For the first time in years, Azalea is finally... happy.
Masterlist
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the-hopeless-haze · 3 years
Text
Somebody Sit in My Chair and Ruin My Sleep (Being Alive Ch 15)
A/N: Idk how I feel about this chapter but here u go I guess lol
Previous Chapter
content warnings: implied smut
WC: 1.9k
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Rafael didn’t have any idea what he was walking into on Monday morning, but Jesus Christ, the fact that you let the squad know what happened - down to the very last detail, it seemed - was a horror show. Amanda avoids him in some show of female solidarity, Nick shoots him sympathetic looks, and Sonny - fucking Sonny asks Rafael how he is and won’t stop asking how you were, if he’d heard from you.
But why should he expect mercy from the woman who turned down his proposal?
And maybe he deserved it. Maybe he should’ve tried to read the room instead of just pushing forward. You had been right - that night certainly wasn’t the prime time for a proposal in the slightest. Hindsight is always 20/20, and he keeps remembering moments where you were slipping away inch by inch like sand past his fingertips, and he can’t believe how stupid he was that he chose to swallow it down and chalk it up as nothing instead of sitting down and actually talking to you.
Still, communication is a two way street, and instead of sending him vague signals that he was too obtuse to decipher, you could’ve sat down and talked to him too.
It’s so much easier to assign blame than take it, isn’t it?
Ultimately, though, he just couldn’t believe you weren’t on the same page as him. Didn’t you always say you wanted all these things? Weren’t you happy that Rafael finally felt he was ready, too? Perhaps though, in the midst of all his internal turmoil he truly forgot to assess your feelings on the matter. Yes, you said you wanted children, yes, your parents constantly threw comments his way about settling down with you, and yes, you’d told him on multiple occasions he wasn’t too old to get married if that’s truly what he wanted.
But where was your actual opinion on marrying him in any of this? It was lost in between the need you no doubt felt to constantly comfort Rafael about his current misgivings and past misfortunes and your parents’ well-meaning but busy-bodied comments. It was clouded by Rafael’s own mother’s opinions, and hell, even Sonny’s - everyone was so afraid Rafael was going to lose you that they pressured him into offering you a ring and a promise of forever - but little did anyone know that by doing just that... he had in fact lost you anyway.
His mother was devastated, weeping about how you would’ve made such a lovely bride, how she was already looking at suits for Rafael and venues for the wedding... he couldn’t handle it and left her apartment after ten minutes of her lamentation. He should’ve never told her, he should’ve never been so sure of what was going on in your head, because now he realizes he never had any idea. No one did.
So now, he snaps at Sonny, because Sonny is guilty by way of telling him “oh sure, she’ll say yes” like anyone knew what the fuck you would do when the question was finally asked. Maybe you didn’t even know until he was down on one knee. Still, Rafael can’t help wondering if things would be different if the car accident never happened - deep down, he knows there were signs you were pulling away after Thanksgiving, but it’s so much easier to blame Sonny for it. You wouldn’t have sunk so low in a deep depression if you could’ve worked, if you weren’t immobilized by your injury... but would you have loved Rafael enough anyway?
“Will you shut the fuck up?” Rafael hisses at the younger detective. “You’ve been talking my ear off all morning.”
“Whoa, Barba, wake up on the wrong side of the bed today or what? I was just getting you up to speed on the case—“
“I’ve read the file. You don’t need to.”
“Fine. Liv’s in her office but I suggest cooling the attitude, because she’s not in a good mood either. Noah was sick and kept her up all night.”
“Lovely.”
And then, by some sick twist of fate, you walk through the door, and Rafael’s stomach turns. Never did you look so gorgeous, so beautiful, so fucking untouchable than you did now. It’s the first time in weeks he’s seen you in a blazer and slacks, the first time he’s seen you look like you gave a shit in months. And maybe that’s unfair - you were struggling, per your own admission - but it almost feels like all you had to do was lose the weight of Rafael and all his baggage that came with being in a relationship with him, and you were good as new.
He wonders how many of his exes could tell a similar story to yours, if that were truly the case.
You meet his eyes for a split second and he wants to drop dead. You give him a haughty smirk and head over to Amanda’s desk, turning your back to him.
Why couldn’t you just fucking leave like you’d said you would? It’d be so much easier if you did just go back home but like everything else that came out of your mouth that was merely a half baked promise you had no intention of making good on.
And maybe Rafael should’ve called you this weekend, but he couldn’t swallow his pride and come back to you with his tail between his legs after you rejected the proposal he’d worked all his life to be able to give. You never called him either, but if this was going to go anywhere, someone would have to talk first.
But shouldn’t it have to be you? You’re the one who asked for space. He’s giving it. What the fuck else was he supposed to do?
But now that you’re not living with him, now that you’re not even with him at all, you’re completely unpredictable. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d come over to him and Sonny, flash him your best sardonic lipglossed smile, and ask to borrow Sonny for a moment.
Rafael can’t even think straight, he can barely breathe, the rage coming up like bile and tightening his throat. How could you stand there and act like nothing was different now?
“Sure,” he snaps.
“Whoa, no need for the attitude, Rafael,” you say sweetly. “We can all play nice, right?”
Rafael doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything… he just shakes his head and walks to Olivia’s office. How could you compartmentalize like that, he’d love to know. Wasn’t this killing you, too?
The rest of the day proves to go by smoother, thankfully, albeit minor annoyances that come up like a snippy altercation with Olivia due to both of their bad moods and a taxi driver haggling him about the fare. Rafael still cannot wait to come back to his office and savor his fourth cup of coffee today after running around the city all morning, put his feet up and do some paperwork…
But you’re there, in his chair, with your feet up on his desk.
“Get out,” Rafael says before you can utter a word.
“I want to talk,” you say innocently.
“I don’t. Get out. Who the hell let you in here?”
“Carmen, duh. She still thinks we’re together, apparently.”
“Do I have to call security?”
You stare at him blankly. “You’d really call security?”
Rafael rolls his eyes, throws his briefcase on a nearby chair. “What the hell do you want?”
“Where do we go from here?”
“Nowhere. You ended it.”
“Okay, no, I just said I needed space. I didn’t end it--”
“Right. I need to work.”
“Okay. We’ll meet later then,” you nod, standing up.
“I didn’t agree--”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. I got to head back to the precinct in fifteen minutes anyway.”
Rafael hates doing this, showing a moment of vulnerability, but he has to ask, “Are you staying? In New York, I mean.”
“For now,” you say, softening too. “Obviously. I talked to Liv for a long time, talked to my dad.. And… I don’t know if being back home is the best course for me either. I’m just trying to get back to some semblance of normal, you know?”
“Right.”
“I’ll see you,” you say, walking past him and leaving his office.
How many years would it be before he did figure you out?
------
The two of you don’t really talk much at first when you reunite later on that evening. Rafael draws the shades in his office, and it’s all pulling at clothes, at skin, at hair and you’re not proud of it but you also don’t really regret that you let it get that far. You missed him, in an annoyingly cloying way, and what was better than makeup sex when the two of you were still pissed off at each other?
“You need…. You need to go to therapy,” Rafael pants after coming down from his high.
You have to laugh at that. Maybe that was only the 7th most offensive thing someone had said to you after sex. And, annoyingly, he was right, even if his delivery and timing could’ve been light years better.
“Mm. I know,” you tell him, pulling him in to kiss him again, his sweaty chest sticking to your back as you pull off him to lay, or rather squeeze next to him on the couch.
“You need to--”
“Let’s not get into the shit I need to do right now, okay? I know I have things to sort out. So do you.”
“Right. I’m sorry. I’m trying to help, and I’m trying to understand, but--”
“Right now… don’t. Just fuck me like that again.”
Rafael chuckles - damn, it was only two days and you missed his laugh that much? It just tugs on your heartstrings in the worst way, but you suppose it proves how much you love him, how you couldn’t just put this down. You hated being the first to let your guard down, to bring yourself to his office not once but twice… but you couldn’t bear to lose him, either, and you’d hurt him where no one else had. It had to be you who offered a new start.
“I need to eat, mujer. And as tempting as that sounds… we need a change in location anyway.”
You nod in assent. “Fine.”
Neither of you get much sleep that night, as you split a bottle of wine and a pizza and talk, cry, fuck, whatever… but it’s a long sleepless night you wouldn’t have traded for the world. Things are different between you two, naturally, but something has to be shed to grow, and maybe you left some good things behind along with the bad things, but it’s how these things go. You can’t expect a relationship to be standing firm after a rejected proposal. For the moment, you’re just happy the two of you found a way to get back up.
As you curl into Rafael’s arms at four in the morning, you don’t feel at peace - lord knows you still have so many things to worry about - but you do feel better, and if that’s all you can get right now, you had to be okay with that.
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TATMILB, CHAPTER 4
Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.
Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.
Chapter 4: Ben comes to Penelope’s door bearing a letter. Penelope explains the situation to Schneider over ice cream. She scoffs at his proposal but can’t wave it away so easily once she’s alone with her thoughts.
Dear Ben,
It’s been a really long time since I felt the way I did when I was with you--I know talking about it makes me sound like a giddy teenager. 
But in so many ways, that’s how you made me feel. I was full of lighthearted happiness, hormones and that need to know everything about somebody that only happens at the beginning of a relationship.
The story of how we met sounds like a movie: I poured my heart out to you, thinking you were gay and couldn’t possibly be interested in me, and you turned the tables by asking me out. A night full of self-loathing and guilt led to a moment where I felt really attractive. And considering how hard life had been lately, especially in the romance department, it meant a lot that you looked at me in my emotional half-drunk state and saw someone worth getting to know. 
All of that makes how we ended worse. I’m sorry for what happened with Victor, for how easily and how quickly I became a cliche--the ex-wife who takes back her apologetic husband, who believes and trusts when she shouldn’t...who gives up a good man for a familiar one. 
We had fun while it lasted, didn’t we? It’s the what-ifs that haunt me now. The possibilities. Maybe you would have gotten along well with my family, when it was time for you to meet them. Maybe you would have been a good husband someday.
I know I don’t have the right to hold on to you, to the idea of us, when there was barely an us in the first place. Some nights, though, I pull out that mental picture and let myself live inside for it a little while. I still feel happy there. I wonder if you do, too.
Love, Penelope
****
“Ben!”
Penelope steadied herself by gripping Schneider’s arm, which also helped to steady him as they wobbled in the doorway after their near-collision.
She saw the letter Ben was holding, on yellow paper she remembered too well, and offered him an overly-bright smile, aiming it like a shield. “We’re actually just on our way out. Gotta go get dessert for the family before there’s chaos, y’know?”
Her laugh was as forced as her smile, but she ignored the look Schneider gave her and hoped Ben would buy it. He didn’t know her nearly as well; not everyone had Schneider’s keen eye for her tells. 
“This is Schneider,” she added, shutting the door behind the two of them. She kept her grip on his arm, pulling him past Ben. 
“Yeah, hi,” Schneider said, with a facial expression that could best be described as ‘trying to do calculus in his head.’ Great, Penelope thought, now she would have even more to explain to him once they made it free of the building. And Ben.
“Listen, I don’t want to hold you up,” her ex said, lifting the letter to her eyeline. “I just wanted you to know that I got it, but that I’m actually--well, I’m engaged now.”
“Oh, wow! That’s amazing! Congratulations,” she said, shaking his hand and trying to hurry along as though that would be the end of that.
“Penelope.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I really enjoyed the time we spent together too. And I did think about you--about us. For a while. That was such a long time ago, though, and where my life is at these days...I’m really happy. I hope you will be soon.”
The hint of pity she detected got her attitude up, but if she made a scene it might bring the family out into the hall, which was the last thing she needed to add to this insanity. She exhaled through her clenched teeth instead.
“Thanks Ben, I appreciate that. I’m glad things are going well for you.”
“Anyway, I wanted to give you this back. It doesn’t feel right keeping it, while I’m planning my wedding to somebody else.”
“Alright. We really gotta go, but I hope the wedding goes great and it doesn’t rain. Best of luck to you both!” she half-shouted as she sped down the stairwell, not bothering to look behind her. Schneider would catch up, and she needed Ben to stop treating her like a crazy woman who was still nursing a crush on him years after they went on a handful of dates.
Not that her behavior in the hall was likely to make her seem more sane. 
Her cheeks were burning as she exited the building, and she wished the air outside were cool enough to settle her racing heart. There was no denying it now--all of her letters must have been sent, every single mortifying one of them. Her innermost thoughts and feelings, directed at men who were never supposed to read them. This was beyond terrible. This was a catastrophe. This was--
“Pen! Wait up!” Schneider let the exit door slam shut behind him, making short work of the distance between them on the way to her car. “You know, I can’t go with you to get ice cream if you leave without me.”
“I know. Sorry.”
The scoop shop was only a five minute drive from their building, but it was a deeply uncomfortable five minutes, with Schneider watching her from the passenger seat and Penelope stuck on the image of Ben and his pretty, sympathetic face handing her back old dreams on paper. 
She hoped he really was blissfully happy with his new fiancée. She hoped they had a long and happy marriage. 
She hoped she never had to see him again.
****
Schneider managed to hold back as they waited in line at the shop, but he was restless next to her, filled with anxiety and questions. Penelope wasn't exactly in a hurry to explain; her nerves mirrored his.
“Let’s just order ours, okay?” She said before they approached the counter. “We can talk while we eat it, then get the rest to go after.”
Schneider nodded. “Sure. Whatever you want.” He ordered an oversized monstrosity, filled with a jumble of flavors and toppings that Penelope eyed with suspicion. 
She got cherry gelato and frowned when he paid for them both, but didn’t bother arguing. She was the one who caused this whole mess--there wasn’t much point to starting a fight on top of it.
Schneider sat down across a corner table from her and made no move to touch his dessert. “Listen, Penelope, I’ve tried not to push. I kept quiet through dinner, I didn’t corner you in a moving vehicle, but I’m kinda out of patience now. What was that back there?”
“At...the hospital?”
It was stupid to try and buy herself more time. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous to talk to him--this was Schneider. He always understood even her craziest moments. Yet there she was, still stalling. Keep on digging that hole, Penelope.
“Yes, at the hospital, when you kissed me!” The last part came out louder than he’d intended, and Schneider looked around like they might be under surveillance, before continuing. 
“What was that about?” he pressed. “I thought that I was pretty clear about where I stood, and then you kissed me anyway. No means no, Penelope!”
“Yes...you’re right.” 
When he put it like that, she felt even worse than just embarrassed. If she found out Alex was going around kissing girls who told him they weren’t interested, she would be so pissed at him. She would read him the riot act. What could she possibly say to defend herself to the one man who understood that better than anybody-- who knew her behavior totally contradicted what she believed in?
“Sorry.” She watched her gelato melting in its little cup, swirling it with her spoon. “You’re right, there’s no excuse.”
“I don’t want an excuse--though the apology’s appreciated. I want an explanation. It doesn’t make any sense, what you did. And you always make sense. Come on, talk to me.”
“I don’t have a good explanation.” She sighed, trying her gelato before it was completely liquid. It didn’t taste as good as it would on a day when her life wasn’t unraveling. “It was out of character. No argument there. It just sort of happened.”
“But why?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she warned him, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t avoid this forever. He practically lived in their pockets--she couldn’t avoid him in general.
“You just made out with me,” he shot back. “I already know you’re crazy.”
“It was one kiss! I did not make out with you.” She dug into her gelato more emphatically, letting him sit with his own melting dish for a minute, almost as annoyed at Schneider as she was at herself for ending up here. 
“That letter that you got from me, it wasn’t the only one I wrote.”
“Okay.” He blinked, taking that in. “You’re in love with people besides me?”
“I’m not in love with anybody, you dope. And I didn’t send you that letter.”
“I’m confused.”
“I write letters. I always have. To process stuff, get my thoughts out. I didn’t have therapy, you know, before the last few years. And between my mom, and the Army, and Victor...I had a lot of stuff to deal with. I’ve never been a diary person, but when things got really intense, I would write...”
“Love letters.” 
“Yeah.”
He nodded as he dug into his ice cream, listening intently now. Schneider was good at that, even when he was visibly baffled--like he seemed now. 
“I used to write other letters too, when I was a kid, letters to my parents when I was upset or frustrated with them. But I never held on to those ones--I had this feeling that no matter how well I hid them, Mami would find them, so I always trashed those. It helped enough, writing them.”
“When it comes to Lydia, I think your paranoia was probably well-founded.” 
There was a hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth now, fondness not just for her mom but for Penelope. The wave of relief that flooded her settled some of her anxiety. Kissing him had been dumb and desperate, but she didn’t want it to ruin their friendship. 
One kiss couldn’t do that, right?
He pointed his spoon at her gelato, a silent request. She nodded, passing him her spoon for a taste. She hadn’t really been in the mood for ice cream to begin with; she’d just wanted a place away from home for this confession.
“So, yeah, I write letters sometimes. Not all that often, because I was with Victor for most of my life. There haven’t been that many guys. But when I needed to put those feelings somewhere, I wrote them down and tucked them in my favorite duffel.”
She took her spoon back and gestured with it. “Over the years, I wrote five letters, including yours. And somehow they disappeared along with my duffel bag. The letters got sent out. I realized it when I saw you and Max.”
“And Ben,” Schneider added, putting the pieces together. “So, if that makes three, is the fourth Victor?”
“Oh, god.” She knew, of course she knew, exactly who she’d written her letters to. But she was so busy fighting the initial panic, she hadn’t thought about Victor yet. “Yes, I wrote to Victor. A couple of times. Ay dios mío, I hope that one gets shredded in the mail. I cannot deal with that right now.”
Schneider was lost in thought for a while, long enough that she took her cup to the trash. “Who’s the last one?” he asked when she sat back down. 
“Huh?”
“I’ve known you since you and Victor separated. After Victor, there was Ben, then Max, then I guess you wrote my letter, since it was after Lydia’s hospital stay. I can’t think of anybody else you dated. Did you have a secret lover?”
He looked intrigued by the possibility. She swatted him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be so dramatic. You sound like my mom. The other letter was my first big crush, back in high school, a boy named Joe.”
She reached for his spoon and Schneider let her, bemused. He knew she usually hated his topping combinations. She just needed a second to gather her nerve again. 
“I really am sorry,” she tried to explain, more carefully this time. “For kissing you like that. And for you ever seeing that letter. I was busy trying to figure out how it was possible, and then I saw Max coming, with a letter in his hand too, and I knew what it had to mean. I haven’t spoken to him since we broke up, my head was reeling--I couldn’t imagine explaining to him why he was getting a love letter from me a year later. I panicked.”
Risking a look at him before pinning her gaze back to the table, she continued. “It hit me that if he saw us kiss, he might assume we were a couple and be thrown off enough that I would have time to regroup. We could pretend the letters never happened.”
Schneider’s face was unreadable now. When she gave his spoon back, he didn’t go back to eating, just kept watching her.
“It’s not logical, I get that, but like I said, I panicked. And I know it was wrong of me to pull you into this, but I really would like to pretend the letters never happened, if we could. Especially yours.”
“Yeah?” 
She ran the risk of offending him--she was aware of that--but their friendship was too important for her not to fight for it. She couldn’t tell what Schneider was thinking, though. That same perfectly blank expression stayed in place. At least he hadn’t left the shop yet, Penelope reminded herself. He was still giving her a chance.
“Yes. I was in a terrible place when I wrote your letter, Schneider. It was a few months after Mami’s stroke, after giving up Max had me convinced I’d lost my chance at love, and I was so lonely and scared and sad. About all of that. 
“And there you were, so present and kind...and, well, loving. All the time. You were the one person I knew I could count on and we spent all those nights together. No matter how rough the day had been with the kids or at the hospital, you would find a way to make me laugh. Remember?”
“Of course.” His face was still guarded, but his voice had that comforting softness to it. That tone that meant he was ready to help. The voice of her best friend. 
“I was vulnerable then, and I wrote it all down, because it had to go somewhere. It took me a while to step back from that place, to get back to feeling stable on my own even when you weren’t around. And once I had that distance, that balance back, I could see clearly again. I was never in love with you, not really. I mixed up how much I care about you as part of my family, as my best friend, with love. I mixed up how good you were to me with the idea that we would be good together. 
“Once everything was okay again I felt like an idiot about it, and I was so glad I never said anything. I don’t want to lose you. And I never would’ve sent that letter as some attempt to awkwardly hit on you. I’m mortified to even be talking about it now. So, could we just move on? Like this was a weird day but we both agree it was a fluke and laugh it off?”
“Sure, sure, sure,” Schneider agreed, clearing his throat. “But what about the other letters?”
“What about them?”
“If Max’s letter is like mine, a love letter with no extra context, then are you going to have to do this all over again? Tell him you’re not still in love with him?”
“I-I don’t know. I’m really hoping it won’t come to that.”
“Because he saw us kiss and that’s a magic barrier to all future confrontation...or because you can’t honestly tell him that?”
He knew her too well, Penelope thought. And she’d had to share enough deep emotional truths for one day. 
“Wow, look at the time,” she said, standing and nodding toward to the front counter. “If we don’t get the rest of the treats and head back, they’re gonna think we lied about the whole dessert run.”
She put in the requests that she knew her Mami and Alex would want and moved down to the other end of the counter. Schneider followed, clearing his throat again. 
“What is it?”
“Speaking of lying, I just got a text from Nikki about our kiss.”
“What? How does Nikki know?”
“One of her friends saw us in the parking lot, I guess. Nikki’s super pissed.”
“Have fun with that.” She shook her head. “Luckily for me, I only have to see Nikki at school functions and some of Alex’s games. You’re the one who decided to hook up with her.”
“She’s pissed in a jealous way,” Schneider added thoughtfully.
“I’m shocked.”
“Hey, Pen. Hear me out: what if we kept up the lie for a while?”
“As in, the lie where I kissed you and you freaked out about it?”
“My freakout was in response to your freakout. Glass houses, Penelope. But yeah, the kissing. The public display of affection, emphasis on public. It got Nikki’s attention, and I wasn’t even trying to do that. If seeing me with you makes her realize she misses what we had, maybe we could stop this vicious cycle of breaking up all the time.” 
“You want to pretend to be into each other just so you can get back with Nikki? Gross. No way I’m volunteering to be used for that.”
“Hey, you used me first--and I didn’t volunteer.”
An aproned employee passed her the sack of ice cream and Penelope walked out ahead of him. 
“It would solve your problem too,” Schneider suggested. “Isn’t that why you kissed me in the first place, to make it seem like you were taken?”
“I was temporarily insane,” she insisted. “What’s your excuse?”
“I’m just saying we could both get what we want. Think about it,” Schneider added before mercifully dropping the subject as they made it home.
She ignored Schneider for the rest of the evening, as best she could, until he headed back to his own apartment. If her mom or Alex wondered what took them so long--or why they ate their dessert on the way--neither of them asked. 
****
Penelope was in her bedroom, finally able to take a moment to decompress from the chaos of her life, before it occurred to her to check her phone. She fought so hard to keep Alex off his at the dinner table; it helped a little when she set a good example. 
“Three missed calls,” she told her empty room, staring down at the name next to all three of them. 
“Yep, and you didn’t pick up even once.”
The day had clearly been too much for her, if her imagination was so easily manifesting Max there next to her bed. She closed her eyes for a moment and reopened them, only to find the illusion of him still watching her.
“You can’t call a guy back anymore? Especially after you ditch him in a public place? That’s not like you, Penelope.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” 
Okay, so she was hallucinating. Not a big deal. She was stressed out and had him on the brain, especially now.
“Got your letter,” Max said, smiling down at her where she sat. “Of course, you know that already. It’s why you’re avoiding me. How long do you think you can keep that up?”
“I have no idea. How long do you think you’ll keep trying to confront me with it?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m in your head--what do I know. If you want real answers, you should give me a call.”
“Can’t say I like that idea very much.”
“Yeah. If we talk, you’re going to have to answer my questions. Why did you send the letter, why did you write the letter, did you mean what you said.” 
She swallowed hard, staring into Max’s warm eyes. What would she say, when she had to explain it all to him?
“Do you still...love me. That’s the million dollar follow up, right? That’s the one that counts.”
“I’m not ready to explain any of it,” she admitted. “I’m not ready to tell you how I feel. I’m not sure I know, myself.”
“Then you know what you have to do,” Schneider told her, popping up in the dark space where Max had been standing moments before. “Get your cover story on, chica.”
“God, don’t call me that. Don’t call anybody that.”
“All I’m saying is, you can’t avoid Max forever, right? There’s a solution staring you right in the face. What are best friends for, if not to act as a human wall between you and your relationship issues?”
Penelope frowned, trying to find a counterargument. 
“Hey, if you’ve got a better idea, then go ahead...tell me no. A backup plan? Anything?”
“I’m thinking.”
“No, you’re stalling. And the clock is ticking on that strategy. But my plan, it can last as long as we need it to. Until you figure out what you want to do--with Max, Victor, all of them. We can be each other’s wingman and cover story at the same time, Pen. You help me, I help you...everybody wins.”
“Aaagh.” Penelope groaned, gripping hold of her hair for a second. When she lifted her head back up from her hands, she was alone in her room. 
She didn’t know if Schneider’s idea was a brilliant one, or a terrible one. But at this point, it might be her best chance to save her sanity.
That was reason enough to consider it.
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souvcniir · 3 years
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*   bopping  along  to  forever  by  drake  is  𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑  ,  the  twenty  two  year  old  cis  man  thrown  back  to  their  business  days  with  none  of  his   memories  .  voted  most  likely  to  move  out  the  country  ,  alis  was  known  for  being   resilient &   facetious ,  go  figures  you'd  always  find  them  being  threatened  to  be  kicked  off  of  the  football  team  ,  but  grew  up  to  be   audacious &  untrusting  .
what’s  happening  cuties  !   listen  ,  i  cannot  join  a  group  without  giving  the  fattest  and  biggest  warning  that  despite  being  in  the  rpc  for  a  minute  now  ,   i  still  suck  at  introductions  .  embarrassing  luv  ,  i  know  asdj  .  i’m  gi(anna)  ,  i’m  nineteen  years  old  ( a  big  old  baby   )  ,  i  go  by  she  and  her  pronouns  and  i  currently  live  on  the  east  coast  which  throws  me  in  the  est  timezone  !!!  this  is  one  out  of  two  of  my  children  that  i’ll  be  bringing  you  ,   and  um  can  i  just  say  im  obsessed  with  the  fc  pairing  i  got  going  on  for  alistair  .  aron  piper  and   giuseppe  maggio  ?   this  is  what  heaven  is   asdfgh  .    down  below  you’ll  find  a  little  about  alistair  !  and  if  you  want  to  plot  you  can  either  smash  the  heart  button  ,  send  me  a  message  ,  or  message  me  on  discord  at  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲#1776  .
*   𝐎𝐍𝐄                          𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  .
a   black   eye   in   response   of   words   of   provokement   ,   lonely   nights   concealed   by   random   bodies   ,   gold   rings   sitting   on   bruised   knuckles   ,   calloused   digits   shielding   a   bright   sun   from   bloodshot   eyes   ,   distant   chatter   drowned   out   by   loud   thoughts   ,    salty  drops   gleaming   on   tan   skin   ,   enchanting   pearly   whites   ,   thunderstorms   singing   pretty   hues   to   sleep     .
*   𝐓𝐖𝐎                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .
full   name.   alistair  aurelius  salazar  .   nickname(s).    alis  ,  ali  .   preferred   name.   alistair  .   past  age.   twenty  two  .   present  age.   thirty  two  .   date  of  birth.   november  first  .  zodiac.  scorpio  . gender.    cis  man .   pronouns.   he  and  him  .   sexuality.  pansexual  .   younger  faceclaim.   aron  piper  .   older  faceclaim.   giuseppe  maggio   .   character  inspiration.    hardin  scott  ,   niccolo  govender  rossi  ,  lip  gallagher  ,  and   bellamy  blake  .
*   𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒  .
(   physical  abuse  ,  slightly  detailed     )
    sorrows  and  raindrops     ,   remnants  of  a  first  breath  that  established  the  tone  of  the  upbringing  of  curly  locks  and  pearly  whites  that  never  flashed  for  too  long  .      he  was  a  prisoner  in  a  punishment  meant  for  another  .   he  was  a  prisoner  to  rage  .
   he’s  made  up  of  pleads  ,   and  sobs  that  still  haunt  his  childhood   .   neglected  of  forehead  kisses  and  bedtime  stories   ,  gifted  fists  against  previously  bruised  flesh  in  substitution  .    black  and  blue  decorating  his  body  so  frequency  that  for  a  while  he  forgot  what  he  looked  like  without  them  .   
   one  night  ,  he   held  his  broken  arm  in  his  lap  and  begged  her  to  tell  him  why  ,  why  did  she  hate  him  so  much  ?    she  never  answered  ,   didn’t  even  move  a  muscle  .   left  her  seven  year  old  child  to  pull  himself  off  of  the  floor  and  out  the  door  .  that  was  his  last  memory  of  her  .
    left  in  the  care  of  the  foster  system    and  a  year  later  was  put  into  the  custody of  a  man  who  was  suppose  to  be  his  father  .   a  politician  who  had  cared  more  about  his  image  then  his  own  blood  eight  years  earlier  .   not  an  excuse  ,  his  father  would  learn  that  with  the  help  of  guilt  eating  him  from  the  inside  out  .  did  everything  he  could  think  of  to  make  it  up  ,    not  an  easy  challenge  .  
*   𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 .
walked  hand  in  hand  with  being  difficult  .      labeled  the  broken  bird  .  the  dirt  bag  .   found  traces  of  himself  in  chaos  and  so  he  became  it  .    a  smart  boy  drowning  in  a  hurt  he  had  not  fully  recovered  from  .    got  better  as  the  years  went  ,   and  twenty  two  was  his  golden  years  of  doing  his  very  best  to  not  self  destruction  .  
kept  himself  busy  ,  but  that  does  not  mean  he  kept  himself  out  of  trouble  .  a  smart  boy  who  had  the  ability  to  stumble  into  class  with  black  rims  covering  regrets  from  the  previous  night  .   cannabis  was  the  best  form  of  therapy  and  getting  blacked  out  on  weekdays  was  his  favorite  sin  .   
careless  and  impulsive  ,  everyone’s  favorite  partner  in  crime  .  bruised  knuckles  and  a  fat  lip  were  the  consequence  of  a  insolent  mouth  that  never  knew  when  to  stop  .   smiled  with  blood  dripping  from  his  mouth  and  returned  to  his  dorm  with  bruised  knuckles  ,  now  he  remembered  what  he  looked  like  .    
charming  words  and  wandering  hands  might’ve  fooled  you  ,  but  commitment  for  him  was  unreachable  .   he  was  stuck  in  the  mindset  that  he  was  too  fucked  up  for  someone  to  love  him  and  it  showed  in  every  relationship  he  had  ever  had  .   he  was  the  heartbreaker  ,  or  more  so  the  cold  hearted  .  used  others  to  silence  the  demons  in  his  head  and  left  before  the  sun  crept  through  curtains  .  
*   𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓  .
ten  years  formed  a  new  label  ,  the  phoenix  .   the  businessman  .    moved  around  until  he  settled  in   san  francisco  where  he  soon  opened  up  a  bar  with  his  business  partner  .   successful  ,  finally  funded  his  own  life  with  money  that  he  earned  .  but  there  was  more  to  him  then  just  expensive  cars  and  days  being  referred  to  as  boss  . 
healed  in  more  ways  then  he  had  been  ten  years  ago  ,  thanks  to  the  help  of  actual  therapy  (  though  cannabis   was  still  a  friend  )   .   greatest  achievement  was  finding  forgiveness  in  his  heart  for  his  father  and  building  a  normal  son  -  father  relationship  .    
decided  early  he  didn’t  want  kids  and  instead  adopted  a  pitbull  named  kyson  .   his  best  friend  and  as  those  around  him  joke  ,  his  son  .   is  his  background  a  picture  of  him  and  his  dog  ,  yes  .  mind  your  business  .
now  a  known  playboy  ,  though  most  aren’t  surprised  .  says  he’s  too  busy  for  relationships  but  it’s  just  the  fact  that  some  things  never  change  and  commitment  was  still  a  scary  thing  .  
recently  ,  as  in  the  last  three  years  ,  moved  to  riccione  ,  where  he  opened  up  his  fourth  bar  .   lives  in  a  house  on  the  beach  and  only  returns  home  every  few  months  (  plus  the  holidays  )  .  has  become  a  big  beach  bum  ,  but  he  likes  the  environment  .  does  the  whole  beach  life  activities  too  ,  the  hiking  and  the  surfing  (  though  he’s  not  very  good  )   .  
no  longer  a  fighter  ,  and  instead  is  the  one  breaking  them  up  .   realized  there  was  one  thing  he  never  wanted  to  be  ,  his  mother  ,  and  so  he’d  never  resort  to  using  his  fist  unless  in  the  act  of  defense  and  even  then  he’s  had  a  good  job  of  walking  away  .  
*   𝐒𝐈𝐗                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓   .
back  to  square  one  .  no  memories  of  who  he  grew  up  to  be  ,  just  the  old  feeling  of  anger  and  hurt  .   sad  to  see  his  process  thrown  out  the  window  ,  his  healing  cracked  open  .  the  biggest  question  ,  is  will  he  get  to  his  end  point  once  again  or  will  a  second  chance  be  his  downfall  ?
*   𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒  .
has  always  taken  very  good  care  of  himself  in  the  sense  of   what  he  puts  into  his  body  ,  even  in  college  he  paid  important  attention  to  diet  and  exercise  .  
doesn’t  speak  of  his  mother  ,  or  at  least  he  didn’t  .  you  asked  a  question  and  got  silence  in  return  .  most  never  actually  knew  what  the  first  seven  years  of  his  life  was  ,  which  left  many  in  shock  when  he  finally  decided  to  open  up  about  it  .
he  doesn’t  like  nicknames  and  prefers  to  be  called  just  alistair  ,  though  some  people  do  get  a  pass  ,  even  if  that  pass  comes  with  a  hard  look  .
his  drink  of  choice  is  bourbon  but  he  hasn’t  been  a  bigger  drinker  since  his  college  days  ...  his  friends  would  joke  it’s  because  he  overdid  it  too  many  times  in  his  younger  years  . 
*  𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓                          𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  .
*   these  are  simply  just  ideas  to  give  us  something  to  start  with  ,  i  am  open  to  anything  that  is  not  mentioned  as  well  am  completely  and  totally  okay  with  switching  things  around  and  adding  things  to  these  ideas !!!  i  love  plotting  and  bouncing ideas  off  of  each  other  so  don’t  be  afraid  to  stray !
                    YOU’RE  BAD  FOR  MY  HEALTH  ,  YEAH  YOU  SHOULD  HURT  SOMEBODY  ELSE  (  PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN    )  .    he  was  bad  for  their  health    ,   a  rollercoaster  that  consisted  of  too  many  downs  .  toxic  ?  yes  .  in  love  ?  in  denial  .  but  whatever  was  between  these  two  ,  it  kept  them  at  each  others  throats  and  in  each  other  bed  .   this  was  not  the  one  who  got  away  ,  it  was  the  one  he  needed  to  stay  away  from  . 
                   WILL  HE  ALWAYS  BE  MINE  ?   ( PRESENT  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    his  first  adult  relationship  ,  and  like  alistair  himself  it  was  not  always  easy  .  long  nights  ,  busy  days  ,  sometimes  this  relationship  felt  like  it  was  set  up  to  fail  ..  and  then  they  got  their  moments  where  butterflies  flapped  their  wings  and  rose  spreaded  to  cheeks  and  it  really  seemed  like  it  would  work  ...  but   good  moments  ,  they  come  and  go  and  this  relationship  leaves  the  other  thinking  how  long  they  might  have  alistair  . 
                  I  GOT  A  BAD  IDEA  ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    he  looked  to  his  left  and  saw  them  ,  and  when  he   looked  in  front  of  him  he  saw  the  bars  and  regrets  forming  .   these  two  were  a  duo  that  wreaked  havoc   ,  being  around  them  meant  cop  sirens  and  bad  decisions  .  these  two  were  ,  what  do  they  say  ?  young  and  dumb  .
                  WHOLE  SQUAD  MOBBIN  EVEN  THOUGH  WE  ONLY  SIX  DEEP  ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    his  best  buddies  (  that  i  manage  are  still  apart  of  his  life  in  present  time  )  made  up  of  two  to  three  others  .  they  are  his  people  ,  his  picked  family  .   
                I  SWEAR  IF  I  EVER  LEFT  YOU  IN  THE  COLD  ,  IT’S  CAUSE  IT  WAS  COLDER  INSIDE   (  PRESENT  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   )  .   a  old  friend  who’s  no  longer  that  ,  a  friend  .  i  picture  this  to  be  more  complicated  then  what  it  seems  ,  but  picture  these  two  going  from  being  attached  at  the  hip  to  not  speaking  to  one  another  .
                  CAN  YOU  IMAGINE  ?   ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    that  one  person  who  badly  wanted  something  more  from  alistair  and  got  exactly  the  opposite  .   lovers  in  the  way  of  intimacy  but  one  sided  emotionally  .  
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shishu-writes · 4 years
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𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!
Hi! oh my gosh It feels like my blog grew really fast? I’m really grateful to every one of you and I’m so glad that I get to do what I love while also making you guys happy! My 500 follower celebration may not be the most exciting or original but I wanted to do something different for the occasion! Im putting my WIPS on pause and opening up prompt requests! 
Send an ask with a number w/ 2 characters max and I’ll write a short fic or HC (depending on prompt) about it!  Both HAIKYUU! and BNHA characters are available!
*depending on amount of requests, I will cap the amount of requests I take on, sorry 🥺
Requests closed!!
The prompt requests will be open until tomorrow at 6pm CST so send them in! below is the prompt list, all credit for this list goes to @marauder-exe​ !
Angst
“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”
“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”
“Can you just shut your mouth ?”
“wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”
“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”
“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?"
“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”
"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”
“You’re safe here, I got you.”
“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”
“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”
“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”
“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”
“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”
“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”
“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”
“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”
“What happened between us?”
“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”
“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”
“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”
“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”
“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”
“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”
“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”
“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”
“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”
“This will be the last time you lie to me.”
“You never loved me, did you?”
“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”
“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”
“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”
“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”
“Your mind must be a horrible place.”
“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”
“And I thought you loved me."
" And I thought I loved you."
" Aren't you even going to cry?"
“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”
“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”
“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”
“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”
”If you wanna know, then ask.”
“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”
“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”
“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”
“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”
“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”
“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”
“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”
Fluff
51. “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”
52. “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”
53. “You smell really nice.”
54. “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”
55. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”
56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”
57. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”
58. “You’re comfy.”
59.“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”
60.“But I want to hear you sing.”
61.“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”
62.“Care to give me a back scratch?”
63.“I think I love you.”
64.“Your bed head is really cute.”
65.“How about a kiss?”
66.“You made this for me?”
67.Aw, you’re blushing.”
68. Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”
69. “Let me help you with that.”
70. “I don’t want to forget this moment.”
71.“Are you really flirting with me right now?”
72.“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”
73.“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”
74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”
75.“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”
76.“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”
77.“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”
78.“No, it’s fine.  I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”
79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”
80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”
81.“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”
82.“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”
83.“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”
84.“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”
85.“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”
86.“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “
87.“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”
88.“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”
89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”
90.“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”
91.“It was always you.”
92.I love you in every possible way.”
93.“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”
94.“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”
95.“Duck, you idiot!”
96.“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”
97.“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”
98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”
99.“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”
100.“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”
Sarcasm
101.“Define normal.”
102.“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”
103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”
104.“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”
105.“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”
106.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”
107.“And you wonder why you’re still single.”
108.“Remind me to kill you. Please.”
109.“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
110.“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”
111.“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”
112.“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”
113.“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”
114.“My middle finger salutes you.”
115.“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”
116.Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”
117.“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”
118.“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
119.“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”
120.“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”
121.“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”
122.“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”
123.“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”
124.“I need therapy after this.”
125.“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”
126.“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”
127.“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”
128.“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”
129.“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”
130.“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”
131.“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”
132.“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”
133.“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”
134.“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”
135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”
136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”
137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”
138.“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”
139.“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”
140.“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”
141.“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”
142.“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”
143.“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”
144.“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”
145.“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”
146.“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”
147.“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.
148.“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”
149.“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”
150.“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”
Drama
151.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”
152.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”
153.“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”
154.“I know you lied to me.”
155.“I’m not even sorry.”
156.“You backstabber!” 157.“I never want to see you again.” 158.“You never mattered to me.”
159.“I knew this was a bad idea.”
160.“Rot in hell.”
161.“It was supposed to be a secret!”
162.“No one loves me.” 163.“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 164.“You made me cry.” 165.“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 166.“How DARE you?!” 167.“I know you’re not talking to me…” 168.“I SAW you with him/her/them!”
169.“Just leave me alone.”
170.“What did you do?!” 171.“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”
172. “Just admit that was extra…”
173.“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 174.“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 175.“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 176.“There’s something I have to tell you…” 177.“I can’t do this anymore.” 178.“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 179.“I never loved you.” 180.“It’s too late.”
181.“Quit ignoring me.”
182. “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”
183.“I love you. I’m sorry.”
184.“I don’t want to be friends.”
185.“Can we please pretend I never said that?”
186.“Friendzoned again.”
187.“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.”
188.“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.”
189.“I was there for you when no one else was!”
190.“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.”
191.“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.”
192.“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…”
193.“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.”
194. “I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.”
195.“When I said I loved you, I meant it.”
196.“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”
197.“You were the one that left all those notes for me?”
198.“You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.”
199.“We agreed this was just physical!”
200.“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”
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ptergwen · 4 years
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are you happy?
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warnings: good ole angst
summary: a chat on the roof with peter
a/n: this is kinda just how i’m feeling rn? maybe you guys too? either way all of us could use a little extra loving sometimes
i’m on the roof. can you come meet me?
peter shoves his phone back in his pocket after staring at the text for a good five minutes. no answer. he should be used to it by now.
it’s not just peter you’ve been ignoring. you push away your family, you’re dry with friends, and you hardly make an effort at school anymore. peter is beyond worried about you. he didn’t think much of it at first. you‘d had a few bad days, and who hasn’t? then the days turned into weeks.
he doesn’t know what you’re going through, but he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone.
shaking his head, peter sends you another text.
please y/n.
a few minutes later, peter hears the door to your apartment building’s roof open. he doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you. you pause for a moment before walking over to where he’s sitting, his legs dangling over the edge of the building.
“hey, y/n. didn’t think you were coming.” peter’s tone is flat. it makes you feel weird. “wanna sit?” “sure,” you finally speak. peter moves over for you, even though there’s plenty of room. how can he be so sweet even when you’re mean to him?
you carefully sit yourself down next to peter. there’s a sinking feeling in his chest when your red eyes come into view. “have you been crying?” peter’s eyebrows furrow as he tilts your face toward him, only for you to turn away. you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“i hope that’s not why we’re up here. to talk about me crying.” you simply state, wiping your nose with your sleeve. peter’s mouth twitches open to say something, but he stays quiet.
“well?” you prompt him. “well... i’m really worried about you, y/n. you’re not-“ peter takes a breath. “you don’t seem okay lately.” you didn’t think you’d be having this conversation with anyone. ever. it feels like you’ve been called out. your response is a scoff and eye roll, something you often hide behind. “please don’t give me that. i just wanna help.”
peter reaches for your hand. you pull it away and try to ignore how hurt he looks.
“yeah, well. you can’t. so...” you scoff again. “i don’t even get why we’re up here.” “because the roof is really nice when i need somewhere to think. i don’t know. i thought you’d... you’d like it.” peter’s head is down when you look at him. he’s playing with his fingers, which you recognize as one of his nervous habits. you hate what you’re doing to him.
there’s a beat of silence before peter says, “can i ask you something?” “sure, what?” you figure it’s worth giving peter’s roof therapy a try. he meets your eyes before posing the question. “be honest. are you happy?” suddenly, your throat is tightening in that awful way it does when you’re holding back tears. “what do you mean?” “you know what i mean. just in general. are you happy?” peter repeats.
there’s no point in telling him. it’s already clear enough you aren’t.
“peter?” your voice comes out shaky. his head snaps up. you’re biting your lip as hard as you can, afraid that you’ll burst if you don’t. you let peter put his arms around you. “i’m sorry,” you say through the fresh tears spilling out of your eyes.
peter pulls you to his chest, where you hide your face. he rubs your back gently in an attempt to calm you down as a loud sob escapes your lips. you’re choking on your own tears at this point. “i’m sorry- sorry, peter. i didn’t mean to-“ you cut yourself off with a gulp. he feels tears brimming his own eyes. he just wishes he could take all your pain away.
“there’s nothing to be sorry for. i know you didn’t mean any of it.” peter keeps his voice as steady as he can. you choke out another sob, burying your face further into his flannel. you try to focus on something to make yourself stop crying; the small circles peter is still rubbing on your back. they make you feel a little bit better.
eventually, the tears stop. peter holds you the whole time. he’s still there. he’s always there. you’re breathing fast, but pull your head away from peter’s chest. “i don’t even know why i’ve been like this.” you confess. even though peter doesn’t say anything, you know he’s listening.
“i’m just so sad all the time for no reason. i feel like there’s nobody... i don’t know, who gets me right now? i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” your voice drops to a whisper.
“nothing’s wrong with you, angel. i promise.” peter hugs you closer to him, his chin resting on your head. “i’m really proud of you for talking about it.” “thanks,” you sniffle. he holds you like that for a while without talking. you’ve needed this.
“you’re never alone. you have so many people who love you, okay?” peter adds, pressing a kiss to your hair. you nod a few times. “i love you so much, y/n.” “i know. i love you too.” it‘s nice to have somebody there for you, through everything.
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tsarinastorm · 4 years
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Until Somebody Stops Having Fun-Adam Sackler/Reader-Part 3
Adam’s tongue explores your mouth as his hands grip your hips, though one soon slides down and around to slap your ass. You wiggle into him in response. You kiss a path down his neck to his collarbones and you become aware of his cock, now hardened, bumping into your stomach. When you lift your face to look at him, in one quick motion he’s pressing you against the wall of the shower with his mouth on yours, and his hips grinding into you. As he moves down your neck, he sucks a love bite on your pulse point, and when you slap him to punish him, he just says, “Now everyone will know you’re mine. I just couldn’t let you shower by yourself.”
“Oh I am sure you had completely pure intentions.” You tease and he responds against your chest as his head moves down your body, “Hmmm…well maybe I just wanted to fuck you in here too.”
           Then his lips are kissing your tits as his tongue draws line on your right one. His hand squeezes and kneads your left breast. He knows how to work your body like a master. He’s only touching your tits and you’re practically writhing under hands. His lips find your nipple and rolls his tongue over it before sucking lightly. Then, he kisses down your stomach then stops before getting to your mound. The anticipation is killing you, and he further adds to it by kneeling in front of you, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. Your hands go straight to hair like always, and kisses the inside of your thigh then agonizingly slowly rolling your labia between his lips.
           You’re not in a patient mood so you begin bucking your hips against him. His hands snake around your waist to hold you in place. You groan in frustration and he seems to enjoy your torture because he looks at you and says, “Is something wrong, doll?”
           “You know exactly what is wrong, asshat.” He smirks at you then nuzzles in against your clit but he doesn’t add any pressure. You try to not to think about how much water you’re wasting and when you’re thinking he’s not to give into you his tongue on your clit. His tongue draws circle on your nub, strokes it up and down, then left to right. Then, he thrusts two of his wide fingers in your entrance and sucks on your clit at the same time. It only takes seconds of that until your orgasm builds and washes over you. You moan as your legs get shaky and euphoria go through you. Adam then stands and tells you, “Good thing you’re in the shower, you’re a dirty whore for my cock.”
           You reach down to stroke him, and run your thumb over his sensitive tip. Fuck you need him inside now. You tell him, “I am a dirty whore only for your cock. I can’t stop thinking about good it will feel inside of me.”
           “I knew you wanted my cock from the moment I met you,” he says as his hands removes yours and he moves over you. Your back is flush against the shower wall and you hike your left leg up on the side of the tub to give him access. He takes the hint, burying his face in your neck as he buries his cock in your pussy. You’ll never get over the feeling of how he feels inside of you: always stretching you. He rocks into you slowly and as his blackened eyes meet yours he barks out,
           “So fucking tight. Like a fucking virgin cunt, squeezing my cock.” Adam picks up the pace, building a rhythm. You wrap your arms onto his shoulders and move your leg from the edge of the tub to hitch it around his waist. Deciding to goad him on, you say, “Well maybe you need to fuck me harder.”
           “Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you, you dirty slut,” he says as he drills into even harder and faster. The position and the intensity is sending shocks through your clit. He continues the brutal pace but you can tell from the way he’s moaning that he’s getting closer to cumming.
           “I fuck you every day and still your cunt is tight,” he continues spewing, but you don’t respond, instead you take your right hand to your clit. While your right hand vigorously rubs circles on your clit, your left hand digs your nails into Adam’s back. Your orgasm rocks through you, and spurs on Adam’s. He pulls out and quickly beats his cock and cums with a long moan, leaving strings of cum on your chest.
           He’s grinning like a little kid, then he rushes ahead of you to get back under the water. You shout, “That’s not fair! I can’t go around with your cum on me all day!”
           “Why not? I think it looks good on you,” He lets out a hearty laugh.
           Soon he subsides and lets you finish washing yourself off. Once you’re semi dressed and getting ready to go, he hands you a cup of coffee made to your preference. Then, he hands you a boxed pastry from a bakery. You raise your eyebrows inquisitively at him and are about to ask where he got it from when he starts rambling.
           “I got it for you yesterday since I knew you’d probably stay the night. I wanted you to have something you like for breakfast.” He admits and he looks shyer than you’ve ever seen him before. It’s adorable and flattering that he put thought into it, and was thinking about your comfort. He was too sweet, too good for you. You reach up to put your arm around his torso and give him a peck on the cheek. He settles into the chair and you can’t resist going over to sit on his lap.
           The two are supposed to be just friends with benefits but this feels particularly intimate. It feels right, as if the two of you are supposed to be settled into this domestic routine. Right on cue, he nuzzles into your neck, and you run your hands through his hair and nuzzle him back. You’re such a goner, but you know relationships never work and you’d wind up heartbroken again. As you eat your pastry and drink your coffee, you notice that he’s only eating a banana, you know he’s a picky eater but you can’t help but comment.
           “I guarantee that I am enjoying my breakfast more, is that all you eat?” You tease and he responds with, “Better than all of that added sugar and fats in that. That’s bad shit to put in your body.”
           Not sure what to make of that comment, you gather your things and head out of the day. You had struggled with an eating disorder in various degrees of severity since you were a teenager. It was at its peak during your undergrad years and you’re lucky that you were able to get treatment and recover. But it was still a daily struggle and you could be triggered by random things that no one else would think about. You could never weigh yourself because that was a trigger and you were able to fight the urges with regular exercise and a semi-healthy diet. Of course, you still had your weekly therapy appointments. Adam didn’t know any of this, you had kept it from him because it was hard to talk about.
           You know that Adam didn’t mean anything by his comments but your eating disorder brain was misinterpreting it. Your mind started reeling thinking of a way to counteract the calories from breakfast. You continue on your day with your mind racing.
***
           You had shut off your phone and not responded to any messages. Now, you had an outrageous number of voicemails and texts from Adam wanting to check on you. You were busy with work and your anorexia was slowly creeping back again. You had been spending twice as much time exercising and had drastically cut back your total calories. What you’d forgot was how it felt in your brain: a mixture of exhaustion and being ultra-focused. It was a strange mix and you liked to shut yourself off when it happened.
           It had only been three days since the incident with Adam and you were surprised that he hadn’t showed up at your apartment to check in on you. You were both disappointed and relieved. Disappointed because you were in over your head for Adam and thought he cared for you too. But relieved because then you wouldn’t have to tell him about your past mental health struggles.
           Walking into your apartment, Benji and Barney greet you, ready for their walk. You take them for a walk that’s double the usual, and when you’re almost back to your apartment, you hear a voice calling your name.
           “Y/N! Y/N!” you turn around to see Adam running towards you. Of course, your dogs were happy to see him with their tails wagging, they begin their infamous beagle howls. Adam stops when he’s standing right in front of you, he places his hands on your shoulders and looks frantic.
           “What the hell is going on?! I haven’t heard from you at all for days. I thought you fucking died, kid.”
           “I’ve been busy.” You say, now feeling embarrassed. You decide to keep walking and he easily catches up with you, damn his long legs. He asks, “You’ve been busy? You know I can tell that’s a fucking lie.”
           This time you don’t respond, instead you head into your apartment and Adam’s still following you. Once inside your apartment, Adam pauses to look you over before saying, “You look like shit. Are you going to tell me what’s really going?”
           Apparently, you’re not as tough as you think you are because you melt into him. At first he’s surprised then he wraps his arms around you and holds you close to him. He scoops you up and takes you to your bedroom. After you’re settled into your bed, Adam joins you, lying with his face facing yours.
           “What’s wrong?” You take a deep inhale then you start to tell him everything, about your past eating disorder, how you still struggle with it. You told him about your triggers and how you’ve gone back to your old habits over the past few days.
           “Why didn’t you tell me before?” He asks as he runs his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm. His eyes never leave yours, but you desperately look away as you tell him, “I was afraid you’d look at me different. You’d think I was fragile flower or something. And it’s hard to talk about.”
           You fiddle with your hands, a nervous habit that you can’t seem to shake. Adam places his hands over yours and you can his warmth washing over you. The man was like a giant heated blanket. Then, he moves his hand to cup your cheek, and he says, “There’s nothing that can make me think less of you.”
           He then punctuates his next sentence with kisses on your face in between each word, “You. Are. Absolutely. Perfect.” You then can’t resist pulling him in for a deep, searing kiss.
******
           The morning after Adam showed up to check up on you and you told him about your past, he left after breakfast, like normal. Everything seemed fine and normal, you felt more connected to Adam than ever before. But clearly things weren’t as they seemed because you hadn’t seen or heard from Adam since. You blame yourself and your troubled past for scaring him away, but now you were determined to get some kind of answer.
           You make the trek over to his apartment, thinking of a thousand different things to say to him, but you’re unable to settle on one. Rushing up the stairs, you almost don’t notice the blonde woman coming down them until you nearly bump into her. Your face goes hot and you feel your heart fall when you realize who she is: Jessa, the Jessa. She’s leaving Adam’s apartment looking disheveled, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what she was just doing.
           Thankfully, she doesn’t stay to talk to you, she continues on her way and you go yours. Pausing outside Adam’s door for a moment, you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. Adam answers the door in his black briefs and it takes you a moment to get your mind back to coherent thoughts.
           “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He lets you inside his apartment and you try to play cool by answering, “Well I didn’t hear from you for a while and wanted to check in on you.”
           “I’ve been busy…” He says and you can tell he’s either flat-out lying to you badly or he’s trying to piss you off. Well he’s succeeded in the second option. You shout, “I saw Jessa leaving when I was coming up here! You must have been really busy.”
           You put emphasis on the word “busy” so he knows that you’re not buying his line of bullshit today. Adam’s not bothered by your annoyance because he just sits down on his yellow sofa and looks at you like you’ve gone totally mad. You ask, “Are you even going to try to explain yourself?”
           “I don’t know why you’re so mad. You have made it abundantly clear that we’re just fuck buddies.” He states in an even voice. You’re too dumbfounded by his answer to respond. He, however, continues, “These things have an expiration date. Six months or until somebody stops having fun.”
           “If that’s really how you feel then I guess this has expired.” You say and your instincts to flee overtake and you bolt out of his apartment. You hear him say your name and hear his footsteps heavy behind you. He catches up with you and gently grabs your arm, but you pull it back vigorously. You tell him, “Let me go!”
           Adam reluctantly obeys your command and you get the hell out of there. Once back inside your apartment, you find yourself unable to fight back the sobs. You’d kept things casual because you didn’t want to get hurt, but apparently you’d left them too casual and now you’re still heartbroken.
*******
           The room was well-lit, with works of art lining the walls. You don’t know why you came to this exhibit, you hadn’t been feeling like yourself since things had ended between you and Adam. You supposed you came here to get out of your own head for a while, and try to move on. Things were going as well as could be expected until you saw Adam standing over by one of the exhibits talking to a pretty blonde woman.
                       Adam sees you and the two of you make eye contact that last longer than necessary. Maybe you had lost your damn mind, maybe you just wanted to be hurt, but you walked over to him. He greets you and the woman smiles at you. Adam introduces the two of you, “Y/N, this is Mimi-Rose. Mimi-Rose, this is Y.N”
           “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you,” Mimi-Rose tells you. Then it clicks in your mind that she’s one of his exes, the one in between Hannah and Jessa. If you recall correctly, she’s the one who got back together with her ex right in front of Adam. You smile and say, “I’ve heard a lot about you too. I didn’t know you two still talked.”
           “We ran into each this week and she invited me here so here I am,” Adam answers swiftly, clearly feeling awkward in this situation. You and Adam are staring each other down, there’s still so much unsaid between the two of you. It must have been obvious enough that Mimi-Rose notices it, and she quickly excuses herself from the conversation.
           Soon, you and Adam are heading towards the door together. The two of you wander in silence until you’re at some kind of park. Then it’s Adam who breaks the silence, and he has a lot to say:
“Y/N, I don’t know what you want from me. I try to come over and just fuck you but I can’t and you seem to like it when it’s more. Then when I try to be really sweet and romantic with you, you brush me off, and push me away! You want me to just fuck you some of the time, then you want me to sweet with you some of the time, and I never know what you want!” His hands are moving and he looks like he wants to punch something. You’re shocked that he’s blaming this on you when he’s been blurring the lines the whole time, and he’s the one that went back to Jessa.
“I push you away?! You tell me that we’re just fucking, then you try to be all sweet and act like you want more, then you fall off the face of the earth and I don’t see you or hear from you for days! Then, I find out that you fucked Jessa after I thought you actually gave a damn about me!” You scream back at him. You’re so frustrated, you feel like your body is shaking. Adam is surprised by your answer, he throws his hands up in the air.
“What?! I was with you every night after my show, in the morning, no matter how I felt because I wanted to be with you, wanted to fuck you, wanted to wake up with you.” He says and you’re distracted both by his confession and how his eyes somehow look brighter in the night. You miss him badly, and you want to let go, to fling yourself in his arms but you’re still afraid.
“Adam, what do you really want from me? Do you really know me, know how fucked up I am?” You ask and he takes a step closer, putting his hands lightly on your waist. His touch still gives you butterflies. His right hand moves up to cup your cheek as he answers your question, “Yes I want to know all about you and have you know me! Why can’t you just talk about your feelings?”
“What’s the point? You’ll say you want this now, then in a few months you’ll move on to someone else!” You move out of his embrace and distance yourself from him. You can’t even look at him after saying that, you know it’s insane. He moves away from you too and starts walking back towards the street.
“Jesus fucking Christ! I’ve been with you almost every day for six months, yet you think I’ll just go to the next pussy I see,” He says, not even bothering to look back at you. You start following him even though your head is screaming for you to let him go. He then looks at his phone, desperately trying to figure something out because he’s cursing under his breath. He then announces, “I’m getting an Uber or whatever the fuck it’s called.”
You realize have two options: let Adam go and lose what you feel for him, or take the plunge. You choose the second option and rush over to him, he turns around to look at you. You place your hands flat on his chest as you say, “You wanna know how I feel? I feel like I’m burning but in the best way…”
He interrupts your statement with a kiss. You forgot how soft his lips were how right they felt against yours. When you’re both out of breath and pull away, he’s looking at you reverently. You smile as you ask, “Adam do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
           Adam nods his head yes and kisses you again.
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beca-mitchell · 4 years
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life as we know it (1/1)
Summary: After Beca's miscarriage, the road to healing is a long one. Their first night out together in a while proves to be more difficult than expected.
Word count: 2.7k
continuation from this. Part of now i see daylight—an au series that explores beca and chloe’s lives together as if they had been childhood friends.
A/N: this universe is the work-product of hours of hc'ing with @asimplefavors, so just assume all ideas are things we've discussed. <3 in this universe, beca and chloe are high school sweethearts.
Warning for angst and mention/reference to a miscarriage.
read below or on AO3.
——————————
“I never want to be without you again.”
“I never left.”
“I know, but it felt like you did and that’s what hurt the most.”
Blinking at her reflection, Beca murmurs a quiet thanks at both her stylist and her make-up artist as they quietly mill about behind her packing up their things.
It feels odd, as it has for the past while, to be preparing to go out when it still feels like she ought to be grieving. The aches and pains—the physical ones—have long faded and she has been spending more time in the studio, slowly getting her bearings again. Though she is technically on a break from the album she had been working on before and during her pregnancy, she still thinks about the music she had been creating—the music she had anticipated being read just in time for their baby, but—
She inhales deeply.
Music has never felt more soothing or poignant.
Though she still shares her music with Chloe from time to time, there has been a very specific solitude she has received from simply immersing herself in music again.
But more than that—losing herself in the love she feels for Chloe, their life together, and their baby who didn’t make it, but who will forever be so, so loved and cherished. All of that, translated into music and memories to be cherished forever.
Beca attempts a smile at herself in the mirror.
Chloe’s quiet gasp draws Beca out of her musings.
“You look beautiful,” Chloe murmurs, pulling Beca towards her for a quick kiss. Beca finds it amusing that for how much Chloe hadn’t given a second thought about PDA in high school, Chloe is now the more reserved one between the two of them.
It’s charming.
“Wait,” Beca pleads, wanting to feel Chloe’s warmth against her for just a few seconds more. Her stylist can wait a few measly seconds. “There,” she mumbles against Chloe’s mouth, purposefully sliding her hand up Chloe’s back to send a shiver down Chloe’s spine. Pleased with her own ministrations, Beca pulls back, taking care to ensure that Chloe’s lipstick is as pristine as it was before.
“You two,” Beca’s make-up artist says lightly from where she’s packing up her things. “I’m not fixing anything,” she sing-songs.
Beca smiles up at her girifriend who returns the smile with equal energy. “There’s nothing to fix,” she promises, speaking directly to Chloe. “I’m going to have the best-looking woman on my arm.”
Chloe’s smile threatens to turn into a smirk, but she maintains innocence long enough. “Flatterer.”
Though Beca feels light at the moment, an undercurrent of nervous anticipation rushes through her. This is the first event she and Chloe are attending together ever since the miscarriage and though their relationship is pretty much back at where it was before everything nearly fell apart, it wasn’t without hard work and pain. One month after Chloe finally broke down in her arms, clutching at Beca with the desperation of somebody on the brink of total collapse--one month and eight joint therapy sessions later--Beca finally feels like she’s close to whole.
So while flirting with Chloe openly is only a mask to hide her nerves, she still thinks Chloe is the most beautiful woman she has ever laid eyes on. She softens her gaze, allowing herself to sink into the sensation of being so in love with the woman standing in front of her; it is gratefulness and happiness and passion all at once--Chloe, who has been there for everything, will continue to be there (so long as you let me, Chloe had said with tears in her eyes).
“What?” Chloe finally asks when she senses the change in Beca’s demeanor.
“Nothing,” Beca responds. She reaches out to hold Chloe’s hand. “I’m just happy.”
She’s telling the truth.
“Me too,” Chloe says.
Beca knows Chloe is telling the truth as well.
—————————— 
 The event is close-knit enough that Beca doesn’t feel any of the usual anxiety she feels whenever she goes to industry events. She can tell Chloe also feels a small measure of comfort having met many of the attendees as well. It is still surreal to both of them—Chloe more so than Beca—that this is their life now. By virtue of Beca's status as a celebrity and recording artist with a major label, they mingle regularly with celebrities. This event in particular is a moderately-sized event—honouring some of the older, well-respected music industry executives. It means the flashy celebrity turn-out is low to medium at best, which seemed like a fitting way to make a public appearance. Beca barely knows the honorees, but she supposes showing her face can’t hurt every now and then.
Her label’s president immediately swoops in front of her for a quick conversation. Chloe smiles and kisses her cheek, murmuring that she’ll come back with drinks.
In the past few weeks, Beca realizes then that she and Chloe hadn’t really spent too much time apart. It’s the only explanation for the loss she feels so keenly even though Chloe is just across the room.
“—Beca?”
Beca startles back to the present, flicking her eyes guiltily back to Tom who smiles at her knowingly. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “What, um—?”
“Never gets old, huh?” he asks, tipping his wine glass in her direction.
“What doesn’t?”
“Being in love.”
Beca feels the blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck all at once. “Oh, well, I don’t know if—” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugs helplessly and cuts herself off. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”
“Well, behind every great artist,” he says lightly.
Chloe appears by Beca’s side again. “Is an even greater woman?” she asks with a pleasant lilt to her voice.
Beca grins, accepting the glass. “Took you long enough.”
“Well, I was going to say a great partner,” Tom corrects. He holds his hand out to shake Chloe’s hand. “Tom Mackay. A pleasure to meet you formally. Beca never shuts up about you.”
“He’s the big guy up there,” Beca clarifies for Chloe, talking over Tom.
“Chloe,” Chloe says after nudging Beca lightly with her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Tom.”
They are soon joined by a couple, Dan Freeman and his wife Robin.
"So, Chloe," Dan begins in a tone that already has Beca rolling her eyes. She’s never particularly enjoyed his company, but he’s such a solid sound engineer that she begrudgingly admires his talent and tolerates him at least half of the time. "This one is always spending time in the studio, especially recently.” He tilts his head towards Beca. “I bet you’ll be glad when she’s finally done with this album.”
Beca clears her throat. “I’m actually taking a break,” she reminds him stiffly. “Remember?” Chloe, for her part, has not tensed up uncomfortably next to Beca, but instead tucks her hand neatly into the crook of Beca’s elbow. A quick glance shows a gentle smile on Chloe’s face as her eyes flicker to Beca’s.
“I’m grateful for Beca all the time,” Chloe says simply.
Robin coos at them and leans into Dan. “Look at them, why can’t we be more like them?”
Beca tries not to smile too smugly at her coworker, but a small measure of self-satisfaction seeps through nonetheless.
“How long have you two been together again?”
“It’ll be seven years next month,” Beca replies, unable to resist smiling at Chloe again who beams back at her.
“I envy you,” Dan says, shaking his head. “You’re so young and you have so many opportunities to attend events like this. Don’t have to worry about staying out too late or finding a sitter for the little ones,” he jokes, nudging his wife with a playful smile.
Tom laughs at that. “I agree. It was impossible for me and Emily to find somebody to look after our rascals, but we did. I’m sure they would have enjoyed this thrilling event though,” he jokes. “Well, the joys of being a recording artist...at least your schedule is king and you can set up whatever you need with no super strict deadlines,” Tom directs at Beca with a wink. “As long as we still get those albums.”
“Stop pressuring them both of you,” Robin chides. “I’m sure you’ll make lovely parents,” Robin says graciously, directing an apologetic smile at both Chloe and Beca. “But I know that’s not always in everybody’s agenda—at least not really early on.”
For a moment, she struggles to breathe. Beca feels some of the air around her grow thick and stagnant. The shift happens in an instant. She tightens her grip around the stem of her glass and wills herself not to crush the fragile material in her fist. Chloe tenses next to her as well and Beca feels the brief tightening of Chloe’s fingers in the crook of her elbow.
——————————
“I think...with our history and everything that we’ve been through together...part of me is afraid that one day I’ll wake up and she won’t be there,” Chloe whispers. She can barely look at Beca while she says so, taking the brief silence as an opportunity to quickly swipe at the tears welling quickly in her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Beca murmurs, trying to keep her voice steady despite the sharp pain that spreads through her chest. “I would never leave you.”
“But you almost did. We almost broke because of what happened.”
“I felt so guilty,” Beca explains even though the words are increasingly meaningless. So much of the misplaced guilt had been alleviated over the past few weeks. “I still do sometimes, but—”
“Beca, don’t,” Chloe pleads.
“But,” Beca continues, reaching out to hold Chloe’s hands. “It’s mostly because I know that I hurt you and I know that things still hurt, but I can’t imagine doing this whole life thing without you and I can’t believe that it feels like I almost threw it all away.”
“You didn’t,” Chloe promises. “We’re both working on it now and I know you’re trying. I’m trying, too.” Chloe twists her hands so she can hold Beca’s hands properly. “I love you so much.”
Beca sniffles, surprising herself. Laughing hollowly, she reaches up to quickly swipe away a few stray tears before immediately holding Chloe’s hands again. “I love you, too, Chlo.”
For a moment, they both forget that their therapist is sitting across from them.
They’ll get through it. "We'll get through this," Beca promises. "I'm sorry for ever making you think otherwise. Too lost in my own head." 
"Don't apologize for feeling things, Bec. I only ever wished I could take some of that worry away from you."
"We're going to get through this," Bece repeats, with conviction.
Chloe has no choice but to believe the love of her life.
—————————— 
There is a quiet pain in Chloe’s entire posture as she sits silently next to Beca at their designated table. The lights feel increasingly hot and jarring as they bear down on her. Though Chloe never shied away from the spotlight figuratively or literally, she somehow feels more put on the spot than ever.
The sudden reminder of what had happened such a short period of time ago—and the fact that she and Beca hadn’t even had the opportunity to tell anybody about Beca’s pregnancy before the miscarriage—sticks in her chest like a dagger through her heart.
She tries to focus on the food in front of her and the sound of the MC’s voice amid bursts of laughter, but none of that makes sense—it shouldn’t make sense, not when the flash of grief that rushes through her is immediately struck down by other warring emotions all threatening to burst free.
The fear she had felt when she had received the call from Beca—how Beca’s voice had trembled and hitched and wavered. The drive to the hospital and the energy it had taken to not tremble too badly so as to not get into an accident. Tears. Beca profusely apologizing for nothing and everything all at once, like she had any hand in what had happened.
And the distance—the distance that had stretched between them afterwards.
Apologies and declarations of love.
“Chlo,” Beca says softly. “Are you okay?”
Dragged back into the present moment, a rush of noise hits her as Chloe turns to Beca and quickly swipes at the tears that had formed. “Yeah,” she replies. “I think I’m just…” she trails off.
“Yeah, me too,” Beca murmurs. Her eyes reflect a similar pain. She glances around. “Want to...go?”
“Go? Go where?”
“Go home,” Beca says simply with a half shrug.
“Don’t you need to...be here?”
“I’d rather be at home with you.”
Chloe watches her for any trace of emotion that might indicate otherwise before she nods her head.
Together, they leave.
——————————
  “I’m pregnant,” Beca whispers, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m pregnant, oh my God.”
Chloe drops her plate into the sink, hastily wiping her hands off on the closest dishtowel. “Beca, what? What did you just say?”
Beca smiles through a hiccup or a sob. She can’t tell. “It worked,” she tries to explain with a shaky voice. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh my God,” Chloe exclaims, immediately reaching out to hold Beca’s waist. Beca immediately notices the careful grip Chloe has on her already. “Oh my God, Bec, I—” Poor Chloe, completely overwhelmed, simply begins to cry.
Beca looks incredibly alarmed at the display. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Chloe promises. “I’m just so happy.”
——————————
 “Chlo,” Beca murmurs as they lie together in bed, showered and refreshed.
Chloe hums, tucking her face further against Beca’s neck and holding her close. “What is it?”
“You know what I see in our future?”
Chloe shakes her head, ruffling her hair as it sticks to Beca’s shirt and skin.
“I think I can see us with two kids. A beautiful house with a backyard. Maybe close to the ocean. And every day when we wake up, it’ll be to the sound of them laughing and giggling as they jump on our bed. You get the side of the bed closer to the door because I’m not getting my spleen ruptured by them every morning.” Beca inhales. “And God, I know they’re going to be beautiful. Whether we adopt or whether we figure out another way, they’re going to be such beautiful, beautiful children to call our own and that’ll be because they have you to model themselves after. I am so lucky to have you by my side. I was so sad earlier, thinking about everything and how unfair life can be sometimes, but Chlo, I can’t imagine what life would be like without you and I want you to know how much I love you.”
Chloe thinks she’s crying and laughing by the time Beca finishes, but she doesn’t care because she is pulling Beca in for a slow, deep kiss that quickly becomes messy because Beca is whispering words of love into her mouth and tightly weaving her arms around Chloe’s back to hold her close. It is surreal how this feels—how incredibly close to Beca she feels then. It is then that the memory of their entire shared history (littered with all kinds of memories, both happy and sad) doesn’t feel quite so daunting anymore. Like clouds parting to reveal an incomparable warmth, Chloe envisions such a clear and probable future with Beca. As clearly as Beca has seen it, evidently.
They share the same future.
They’re in this together.
“I know that we’re going to be good parents,” Beca whispers, voice thick with emotion. "Like...the best." She rests her forehead against Chloe’s. “I know I’m going to be a good mom despite my own parents.”
“You are,” Chloe breathes out with the little air she has left in her lungs. “You are so, so—” Beca kisses her, interrupting her. Chloe huffs, placing her hand loosely on Beca's chest. “I wasn’t finished."
“I know. I just had to tell you that you’re going to be an incredible mother too. I’ve known this forever. Ever since we were kids even when I didn’t even understand what I was feeling. I just know because you’re Chloe Beale. Our kids are going to be beautiful because of you,” Beca repeats. “I know it.”
“And you.”
Beca closes her eyes. The silence that follows is heavy, rife with all the emotion shared between them in the past few minutes. “I believe you,” she says finally.
Chloe knows she’s telling the truth.
fin.
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ohblackdiamond · 4 years
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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 1 of 29)
part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort level, and Gene’s libido, this situation must be rectified. Sexswap fic.
Notes: This has been on the backburner pretty much since the quarantine started. I really wrestled with posting it at all since it’s a weird premise, and most of my fics have a more realistic bent, but I decided that if it perked me up while working remotely, eating ramen, and feeling like I was back in uni in all the worst ways (when was I in uni? why, during the Great Recession!)-- then maybe it’d perk someone else up, too. So here we are.
           Gene really didn’t think too much of it at first when Paul vanished just after the tour. He didn’t take it personally, the way Peter did, and he didn’t get too quizzical about it like Ace did. The whole band was burnt-out on each other. The days where they had to share hotel rooms were gone, and the days where they wanted to share vacations were gone, too. Gene couldn’t pinpoint when it had gotten like that, and it made him a little regretful, sure, but it was just another inevitability. The Beatles had made it ten years before imploding, all those hurt egos just smushing together and screwing everything up. KISS had four years under its belt now, and already he could feel things faltering.
           So maybe Paul was trying to ease all that via his disappearing act. Spend his tour break at home, probably with a bevy of girls lining up at his front porch, and come back refreshed and ready for another nine-month stretch with only a wall between him and his bandmates, assuming Ace and Peter didn’t tear a hole in it on a drunken whim. It made sense. The first time Paul didn’t return his phone call (the tinny sound of his $400 answering machine the only response), Gene wasn’t concerned. The second time, Gene assumed Paul had gone to a disco, or was spending the night at some chick’s house. The third time, Gene immediately called up Bill, who said he hadn’t heard from Paul, either.
           That was cause for concern. Paul could, and did, blow off anybody but their manager. Still, Gene figured he’d give it one more day, and one more lay, before he started to investigate.
           That was the plan, until he got his mail late one morning. There was always a fat stack of it. The actual sackfuls of fan mail would end up at some office, where a poor secretary was stuck stuffing envelopes with their pictures and a canned response. Sometimes a real sleuth would find his address, and he’d open those out of sheer novelty, when he had the chance, only to be disappointed when the writer turned out to be a twelve-year-old who’d spent his paper route money on several books of stamps, and mailed the same letter out to every Gene Simmons in the greater New York phone book. Every so often he’d get the good stuff, like a saucy letter from a college girl, with photos and pubic hair taped inside. “See you next time in Sacramento.” He never wrote them back, but he’d put the photos in a separate album from his conquests. Almost a hope chest of photos, there.
           Gene thumbed through the newsletters and errant bills so quickly he nearly missed it. A glossy postcard, with Buckingham Palace on the front. It couldn’t have been a piece of fan mail, but he didn’t know anyone who’d bother writing him, either. He flipped it over out of curiosity. Weird.
           He recognized the scratchy longhand before he got to the signature. Not that it took long. Thee address was almost lengthier than the postcard message.
           “Gene—Do you know anything about curses? Write me back soon. Thanks, Paul.”
--
           He called up Peter about it that afternoon, still baffled. He didn’t really think Peter would have any insight on it—Paul and Peter hadn’t been as close as they used to be, though that went for everyone—but he surprised him.
“I haven’t heard from him. I figured you had.” Peter was chewing gum as he spoke. Gene could hear the smacks through the receiver. “Why the fuck would he send you a postcard? You live closer to him than I do.”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Talking about curses…” Peter trailed. “Shit, I went over there last week. Didn’t call him up first, just thought I’d go over like I used to. I banged on the door and some chick came out and screamed at me to go away. I told her who I was and she just stared at me.”
           “Paul doesn’t pick girls for brains.”
           “It was kinda weird, though. Picky bastard usually gets blondes.”
           “What, was she a brunette?”
           “Yeah, real dark, curly hair—you don’t think he’s shacked up with her, do you? Some New Age type, turning him on to something funny? ’Cause he doesn’t usually want ’em sticking around, either, and I stopped by after lunch…”
           Evidently, Peter paid more attention to Paul’s habits with girls than Gene ever had.
“I don’t know. Was she cute?”
“Yeah. She had nice tits.”
           Of course she did. Gene rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.
           “I’m gonna look into this. I’ll let you know if I can’t get in touch with him.”
           “Sure.” There was a slight hesitation. “Hey, thanks for calling me. I thought he was pissed at me or some shit. But I guess he’s pissed at everybody.”
           Gene privately feared it was worse than that. If Paul had gotten a girlfriend, one serious enough he was ignoring everyone and everything else, even the looming tour, for her sake… well, that didn’t make sense, not unless she’d conned him into something. There were still plenty of cults and communes all over the place, the leftover remnants of disillusioned hippies. They’d join fringe churches or create their own religions and live in tents on the side of the road. He didn’t think Paul would have fallen into something like that, unless the girl had spruced it up with a bunch of psychobabble and talk therapy. Paul dug astrology and self-help, but it wasn’t something he’d trade his lifestyle for. Was it?
           “I’ll find out. I’ll see you, Pete.”
           He hung up, then dialed his chauffeur. An hour or so later, he was pulling up to Paul’s.
--
           He told the chauffeur not to wait on him. If Paul was at his house, he’d make him drive him back. It turned out they weren’t Paul’s only visitors. Ahead of them, walking up the driveway, was a kid carrying two grocery bags, his bicycle parked in the grass.
           Gene didn’t normally have an issue making his presence known. But he held back, curious. He wanted to see who would open the door—that supposed live-in girlfriend, some other chick, or Paul himself. As the chauffeur drove away, he hung back a bit, tucking himself behind a tree at the edge of the front of the house, near the front porch. The kid didn’t seem to notice.
           He watched the kid—he was probably about eleven—ring the doorbell with his elbow. After a couple seconds, the door opened, a girl in a blue bathrobe walking out, shutting the door behind her. Gene recognized the bathrobe as one of Paul’s, though she filled it out better than he ever had. She wasn’t even wearing anything beneath it that he could tell, cleavage obvious, the loosely-tied bathrobe hiding none of it. Curly, dark hair—Gene wondered if this was the girlfriend, or bedmate, that Peter had seen earlier. No telling.
           “How much was it?” she asked the kid.
           “Eight twenty-five.”
           “You have the receipt?”
           The kid pulled out the receipt. The girl looked at it, nodded, then took a wallet from the pocket of Paul’s bathrobe, tugging out a couple bills.
           “Here’s nine. Keep the change.”
           “Thanks.” The kid paused. “I thought somebody famous was supposed to live here.”
            “You thought wrong.” The girl took the two bags of groceries and turned back towards the door, trying to use her elbow to turn the knob. The kid was already back on his bicycle. As he kicked the stand up, he called back out to her over his shoulder.
           “Hey, you gonna need groceries next week, too?”
           “I hope not.” She set both bags on the front porch. The kid nodded, waving as he started down the driveway. The girl didn’t wave back, busy opening the door.
           Now was Gene’s chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and walked to the front porch as the girl picked up one of the grocery bags again.
           “Hey.”
           She turned around immediately. Her eyes got big.
           “Shit—Gene!”
           She recognized him. That didn’t narrow it down. She looked familiar, somehow—she wasn’t a Playmate, Gene always recognized those—maybe a model, or a groupie? But Paul didn’t bring those home. Gene raised a finger to his mouth.
           “Shh. Look, I’m here to see Paul. Is he in?”
           “Wh—no. No, sorry.” A tense, quick smile. Definitely not a model. Only Ali MacGraw could manage to make it with crooked teeth.
           “Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”
           “I have no idea. I don’t know where he is.”
           “So he just left you over here?”
           The girl set the bag down, folding her arms. Something about the mannerism made an eerie feeling prickle down the back of Gene’s spine.
“Are you telling me I can’t be here?”
           “No!” Gene pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t care who he’s with. But we’re supposed to go back on tour in a couple weeks and—”
           “I know!”
           “That’s great. So maybe it might be nice to know where he is beforehand.”
           The girl bristled.
           “I told you, I have no idea! I just—can’t you leave me alone?”
           “You’re living in his house, wearing his bathrobe—that wasn’t even your wallet, was it?”
           “Hey!”
           Gene scrambled for it. The girl was fairly tall; he probably only had about five or six inches on her, but she wasn’t quick. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, then jammed his other hand into the bathrobe’s pocket, starting to tug the wallet out. She clenched his arm, nails digging in roughly, not nearly hard enough for him to drop the wallet.
           “Stop it! Let go of me, you goddamn idiot!”
           She shoved forward, stomping on his foot. Gene couldn’t feel that much of an impact, given the thickness of his boots. He kept a grip on her shoulder as he got the wallet fully in hand, opening it up as she screamed at him.
           “You don’t understand, Gene! It’s not what you’re thinking!”
           Unsurprisingly, Paul’s driver’s license photo was the first thing staring back at him from the see-through plastic card slot. Eisen, Stanley B. (God, the guy still hadn’t legally gotten his name changed) printed across it. Beyond the license was a handful of credit and business cards, as if Gene really needed to thumb through them for any further confirmation.
           “You stole his wallet.”
           “I didn’t steal it!”
           She had a lisp, Gene noticed out of nowhere.
          “Like hell you didn’t. Where is he?”
           “I told you, I don’t—”
           She jerked back abruptly, digging her nails deeper into his arm. He didn’t let go, but his hand shifted, accidentally yanking the bathrobe down at the shoulder. The girl’s eyes got huge. One of her breasts was exposed, which would’ve been plenty distracting enough, under normal circumstances, but for once, Gene’s eyes went to her bare shoulder first.
           More specifically, the rose tattoo on her bare shoulder.
           It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. He only saw the tattoo for a second at best, before she smacked his hand away and yanked the bathrobe back into place, covering her shoulder.
           It didn’t prove anything. But in a nice, W.A.S.P.y neighborhood like Paul’s, how many chicks had tattoos? And how many would have one like that, a Lyle Tuttle tattoo, when Lyle’s shop was clear across the country?
           She looked pissed-off. Scared, too. Something about the tight, sour way her lips were pressed together seemed weirdly familiar. The way she was acting didn’t add up. She’d called him by his first name on automatic. No deference or starry-eyed behavior. This girl didn’t give a damn about him being a rockstar. Those caustic responses made it come off like—like she really knew him.
That prickly feeling down his spine was only getting worse, even as he tried to dismiss it as impossible. If Gene was right, what he was about to do was incredibly cruel. If he was wrong, he’d just owe Paul Stanley’s latest chick a sincere apology. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.
           But he had to know. He let go of the bathrobe and quickly shoved his hand through the girl’s tangled, curly hair, starting just at the temple, lifting it up to fully expose the right side of her face. The abject horror in her dark brown eyes might have been confirmation all on its own, but the damage was already done. He’d already pushed back enough of her hair to see what he’d only ever been told about before.
“Gene, y-you fucking asshole!”
Not an inch past one wispy sideburn was a stub of cartilage where her right ear should have been.
           He wasn’t dealing with Paul’s girl of the duration. He was dealing with Paul.
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Prompt List And Who I Will Write For
When requesting a oneshot you can but are not required to choose a prompt off this list (which is one of @marauder-exe‘s prompt lists that im using because i physically cant produce prompts lol) and just tell me what character you want it with (i will list characters and ships that i write for at the end)
Send requests here
Angst 
1. “I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”
2. “I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”
3. “Can you just shut your mouth ?” 
4. “wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?” 
5.“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.” 
6. “Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?“
7. “I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”
8.  "Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”
9. “You’re safe here, I got you.”
10. “Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.” 
11. “Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”
12. “If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.” 
13. “We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”
14. “SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!” 
15. “You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”
16. “I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.” 
17. “You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!” 
18. “What happened between us?” 
19. “Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”
20. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”
21. “You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.” 
22.“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way” 
23. “I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”
24. “I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”
25. “I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”
26.. “I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.” 
27.“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.” 
28. “This will be the last time you lie to me.” 
29.“You never loved me, did you?” 
30. “You made me miserable and I still loved you.” 
31. “Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”
32. “We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.” 
33. “Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.” 
34. “Your mind must be a horrible place.” 
35. “Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.” 
36. “And I thought you loved me.” “ And I thought I loved you.” 
37. “ Aren’t you even going to cry?”
38. “I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”
39. “Did you always know that you were going to leave?” 
40.“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”
41. “I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.” 
42. ”If you wanna know, then ask.” 
43.“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.” 
44. “We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”
45. “Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”
46. “When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?” 
47. “What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.” 
48. “It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.” 
49. “What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.” 
50. “Why do you have tO BE SUCH A HYPOCRITE ALL THE TIME” (this is my prompt bc the numbers were being weird)
Fluff
 51. “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.” 
52. “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” 
53. “You smell really nice.” 54. “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” 
55. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.” 
56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” 
57. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”
 58. “You’re comfy.” 
59.“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.” 
60.“But I want to hear you sing.” 
61.“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”
 62.“Care to give me a back scratch?”
 63.“I think I love you.”
 64.“Your bed head is really cute.”
 65.“How about a kiss?” 
66.“You made this for me?”
 67.Aw, you’re blushing.” 
68. Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?” 
69. “Let me help you with that.” 
70. “I don’t want to forget this moment.” 
71.“Are you really flirting with me right now?” 
72.“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”
 73.“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?” 
74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.” 
75.“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?” 
76.“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.” 
77.“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything” 
78.“No, it’s fine.  I can wait until you’re done talking to them.” 
79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” 
80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”
 81.“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”
 82.“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.” 
83.“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.” 
84.“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!” 
85.“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.” 
86.“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “
 87.“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?” 
88.“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.” 
89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”
 90.“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”
 91.“It was always you.” 
92.I love you in every possible way.” 
93.“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”
 94.“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.” 
95.“Duck, you idiot!” 
96.“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.” 
97.“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” 
98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”
 99.“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”
 100.“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..” 
Sarcasm 
 101.“Define normal.” 
 102.“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”
 103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”
 104.“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.” 
 105.“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.” 
106.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”
 107.“And you wonder why you’re still single.” 
108.“Remind me to kill you. Please.” 
 109.“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
 110.“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.” 
 111.“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.” 
112.“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”
 113.“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.” 
 114.“My middle finger salutes you.”
115.“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”
 116.Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.” 
 117.“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”
 118.“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
 119.“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”
 120.“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.” 
121.“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”
 122.“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”
 123.“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!” 
124.“I need therapy after this.” 
 125.“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.” 
 126.“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.” 
 127.“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.” 
 128.“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” 
129.“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.” 
130.“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.” 
 131.“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.” 
 132.“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!” 
 133.“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.” 
 134.“She’s hot, but she’s evil.” 
 135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”
 136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”
 137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.” 
 138.“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.
” 139.“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”
 140.“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.” 
141.“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.” 
 142.“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.” 
 143.“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.” 
 144.“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.” 
 145.“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.” 
 146.“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”
 147.“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.
 148.“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”
 149.“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.” 
 150.“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.” 
 Drama
 151.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?” 
152.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?” 
 153.“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”
 154.“I know you lied to me.” 
155.“I’m not even sorry.” 
156.“You backstabber!” 
 157.“I never want to see you again.”
 158.“You never mattered to me.” 
159.“I knew this was a bad idea.” 
160.“Rot in hell.” 
161.“It was supposed to be a secret!” 1
62.“No one loves me.” 
 163.“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 
164.“You made me cry.” 
 165.“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 
166.“How DARE you?!”
 167.“I know you’re not talking to me…” 
168.“I SAW you with him/her/them!” 
169.“Just leave me alone.” 
170.“What did you do?!” 
171.“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”
 172. “Just admit that was extra…”
 173.“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 
174.“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?”
 175.“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 
176.“There’s something I have to tell you…” 
177.“I can’t do this anymore.” 
178.“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 
179.“I never loved you.” 
180.“It’s too late.” 
181.“Quit ignoring me.” 
182. “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!” 
183.“I love you. I’m sorry.”
 184.“I don’t want to be friends.” 
185.“Can we please pretend I never said that?” 
186.“Friendzoned again.”
187.“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.” 
188.“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.” 
189.“I was there for you when no one else was!” 
190.“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.” 
191.“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.” 
192.“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…” 
193.“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.” 
194. “I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.” 
195.“When I said I loved you, I meant it.” 
196.“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?” 
197.“You were the one that left all those notes for me?” 
198.“You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.” 199.“We agreed this was just physical!”
 200.“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.” 
Characters/people i write for 
Marvel
Steve rogers 
Clint Barton
Scott Lang
Tony Stark
Sam Wilson 
Thor Odinson 
Loki Laufeyson 
Bucky Barnes 
Peter Quill
Peter Parker
Pietro Maximoff
Bruce Banner 
Stucky (ship)
Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
Derek Morgan
Aaron Hotchner 
Greys Anatomy 
Alex Karev
Mark Sloan 
Andrew Deluca 
Actors
Matthew Gray Gubler
Chris Evans 
Tom Holland 
Tom Hiddleston 
Johnny Depp 
Jensen Ackles
Sebastian Stan 
Daveed Diggs
Colin O’Donoughue 
Once Upon A Time
Killian Jones 
Jefferson 
Harry Potter
Fred Weasley 
Sirius Black 
Remus Lupin 
Draco Malfoy 
James Potter
 wolfstar (ship)
Miscellaneous
Steven Hyde (That 70s Show) 
Jack Sparrow (Pirates Of The Caribbean)
Dean Winchester (Supernatural) 
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“You See Him Too, Right?”
SUMMARY: After his kids ask him to check for monsters under their bed, Chase begins to notice weird things.
Chase thought Stacy had been half kidding when she had warned him that the kids had been more skittish than usual. They’re abnormally quiet and their eyes are often drawn to the opposite sides of the room. It's only when bedtime comes when he realizes the extent of the problem.
Trey’s the one who asks.
“Daddy, can you check under our bed for monsters?”
“Kiddo, this is my room. I sleep here every night.” He shoots him an amused glance. “I can guarantee there's no monsters here.”
“He follows us,” Sam squeaks out.
That earns a raised eyebrow.
“He?”
Trey shrugs self consciously, picking at the threads of a cheap blanket. “We dun know his name.”
He pauses. It's odd Trey is telling him this. Trey is ten now. He's surprisingly mature and clever for his age. He seemed a bit old for the whole “monster under the bed” thing.
“Well, I’ll check anyways if that makes you happy.”
He could feel the two’s eyes on him as he knelt down and looked under the bed. As he expected, there was nothing there.
Chase gave a reassuring thumbs up from below. "Nothing down here, kiddos!"
"Can you check the closet too?"
The closet yielded the same result as underneath the bed. Both of his kids looked more at ease. Sam had latched onto Trey already, using him in lieu of a teddy bear. He had tried to push her away but eventually gave in and allowed it, appearing tired and disgruntled.
After the two had gotten their bedtime forehead kiss and the light had been flipped off was when Chase was able to relax on the couch with tv turned down low as background noise.
At one point, something out of the corner of his eye shifted in the darkness. He couldn't make out an exact shape but it moved quickly and silently. When he turned and looked out where the thing had been, there nothing but a small, dark kitchen.
It's nothing. He's tired and the dark plays tricks on the eyes.
He couldn't help the prickling unease that brought all his hairs on end from washing over him though.
Call Chase paranoid but he's been on edge the past few days after his kids left to return to their mother's house. There's nobody else in his apartment but the feeling of somebody's eyes on him wouldn't go away. It's infuriating!
It left sometimes—disappearing for anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours—but it always came back. It's hard to sleep under the impression you're being watched. He'd get drunk and ignore it but he's wary of getting drunk in case there actually was someone. But hey, that's the anxiety talking.
So instead of turning this into some big kinda thing, he talked to thin air. His hopes to dispel the tense atmosphere worked—kinda. He had to admit it's much funnier dealing with a problem when he didn't take it seriously.
It's easier talking and joking with an unseen presence than going to therapy and going on meds.
As much as he's convinced the anxiety is amping up his paranoia, he had an odd feeling someone else was hearing all the bullshit he talked about to himself.
It's been one of those weeks. The weeks where everything blurs together and his brain is mushy. Chase sleeps way too often because he's constantly tired no matter how much tea or coffee he drinks and how much sleep he gets. It's been the kind of week where he sleeps so much he forgets to eat and drink until he's forced to do it when it becomes unbearable. The one where he's holed up inside his house because he'd been calling in sick for the past few days. The kind where he isn't sure he'd been sleeping or just zoning out.
Basically, he wanted to die.
Chase squinted, eyebrows knit together in confusion as he struggled to remember whether he left the tv on or not. It's on a channel he didn't even have, loud static blaring from the speakers. It's entirely plausible he'd done it while intoxicated or just couldn’t remember it. He shrugged and muted it before switching it off.
When the power cut out with a dying hum, Chase couldn't help but groan.
This is stupid. It's so stupid and it's annoying. He hates it.
His power has been going out sporadically for the past week and apparently it's just his apartment. He's been paying his rent, so his landlord concluded there must be something wrong with the wiring, and they're sending over an electrician in a few days.
He blinked when the power flickered back to life.
Huh... that's faster than usual. Oh well.
The electrician found nothing wrong but the power had gone out while she was over. She's baffled.
He may not have the greatest memory (in fact, his is really shitty) but he's certain he's turning off lights. The whole point of turning off lights is to save power, but either he's sleepwalking or this is a part of the shitty power situation!
Every night it's the same. He flicks off all the lights and heads to bed. In the morning... or whenever he wakes up really, a light—or all of them—are turned on.
It’s confusing. He’s even started writing down that he turns them off before crashing. At this point, he’s given up turning the lights off before going to bed.
Now they’re turning themselves off.
When he hears the whistle, he nearly drops his glass of water. He spun around, met with nothing but the darkness around him. It had been brief and sharp with no tune or melody at all.
"What the fuck?" He breathed to himself.
Chase flips on the lights and walks around the kitchen, trying to find the source of the noise.
He scratched his head with a frown.
Trying to recreate the whistle had no success either. He simply couldn’t match the lack of tune it had. That rules out the possibility of him whistling without realizing it.
Besides… it came from a few feet behind him.
He'd been staring at his water stained ceiling for over two consecutive hours when one of the floorboards creaks out in the hall. Like the kind of creak when he walks down the hall. He stiffens up and his eyes flash over to the closed door. A shadow passes by the crack under his door.
He waits another minute or two, fully expecting whoever was waiting outside to barge in and kill him already. But nothing happened.
He’s not ashamed to say he nearly screamed when something brushed against the back of his neck. It’s featherlight and the touch zapped him like static electricity. Of course, when he whirled around, eyes wild, there’s nothing.
It's totally possible he could be hallucinating or something. His paranoia has been through the roof with every little thing that happens. But it just felt too... real. Like somebody had actually been there and reached out and brushed their fingers against his neck.
Chase can't help but wonder if he's going insane.
Sometimes when he’s teetering on the edge of consciousness and falling asleep, he hears things. Things like low hissing and heavy, wet breathing. Something tapping in an inane rhythm against the hardwood flooring as weight shifts outside in the hall. Scratching—like his ex’s cat used to do when he got bored but louder.
And… and a weird voice? A distorted one warped beyond recognition that jumps high and low. He’s never picked up on any words—it’s all just nearly inaudible whispers that barely reach his ears.
He isn’t sure why his brain chooses to latch onto these bits of information. Your brain makes up weird things when it isn’t fully working properly.
Maybe it’s because he’s staring at deep gouges in the floor out in the hallway. It looks like some angry cat from hell got bored and destroyed his floor in a fit of rage.
Chase gets closure when his kids come back to visit a month after their first visit.
Quiet noises from his room caught his attention and his parental instinct kicked in. He needed to make sure his kids were fast asleep and undisturbed. Cracking the door open to allow the hall light to spill in and then peering in, he’s met with a ghastly sight.
Trey and Samantha are both sitting up, staring at the same spot as their father.
Something that nearly reached the low ceiling of the apartment while hunched over with big teeth, lots of glowing neon eyes, and a second mouth on its neck.
Trey turns to him with wide eyes and whispers, “You see him too, right?”
(A/N) Wow... two in a day huh...
Tag list: @assbutt-of-the-readers, @stuck-in-a-l-o-o-p, @bloodsoakedheretic
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kpersonkwriter · 5 years
Text
Perfect Imperfections
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader Oneshot (established relationship AU)
Word Count: 3591
Genre: Mainly fluff, mentions of angst and smut
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of poor mental health and self – harm, mentions of smut, poor body image and low self – esteem, Jin’s dad jokes ofc
A/N: This one is a personal one for me tbh but please remember that the models in magazines do not define what you should look like. Body image is a complex thing but please do not let it define you. You are more than what you look like! If you do have poor mental health or low body self – esteem, please talk to somebody. Whether it a friend, family or teacher please talk. And if you feel you can’t or just need to rant, please don’t hesitate to message me!
Today was the day from hell as far as you were concerned. Your meeting for the group project had been a mess because people hadn’t done their allocated work (honestly, whoever invented group projects was clearly the devil), your retail therapy had left you in tears as you found out the harsh way that you had to go one size bigger to fit into a nice pair of jeans that you had been eyeing for weeks and lastly you had the customers from hell who thought that it’d be a good idea to come in 5 minutes before closing “for a couple of things” then proceeded to walk out half an hour later with nearly £100 worth for a dinner party. To top it all off, your umbrella had broken leading you to walk the 15-minute journey back to your shared apartment with your best friend, who was back at home for reading week.
As soon as you got into your apartment, you huffed as you threw your bag on the floor before changing into one of your boyfriends’ t – shirt which you had not so discreetly stolen two months ago despite promising to give it back. You just so desperately wanted to drink some hot chocolate curled up in your bed whilst binge watching Black Mirror as you walked towards your kitchen, the idea of hot chocolate making the day somewhat better at least. However, staring at the empty contents of your fridge you were reminded that payday was still a week away as you let out a loud groan. You were sure that the day couldn’t be any worse.
“Y/N!” Your saviour had apparently arrived and you couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh as you heard him shut the door behind him.
“Jin?” You peered your head from the doorway to the sight of your boyfriend holding four bags of what you presumed to be food. In the 2 years that you had been dating, you had come to learn that bags that Jin held were of food more often than not.  
“A little help jagi?” He gestured to the both his hand as you rushed to help him.
“What’s all this?” You laughed, leading both of you down the hallway and into your shared kitchen.
“I know that payday isn’t until next week so got you some food since you had to pay for your phone that you broke.” You bit your lip as you remembered what your idiot best friend had done. Namjoon, your loveable friend who was stuck in the depths of Freud with you during Psychology module, had managed to trip up the stars leading to your apartment after you leant him your phone since he had broken it a week prior. He had the guts to bang the door to your room with a sheepish smile as he handed you the smashed content of your phone. “But hey, at least I can add ‘falling up the stairs’ as a skill on my CV” he had grinned. In retaliation you made him buy you a hot chocolate the next day as you both ran to your 9am lecture.
“You are a godsend Kim Seokjin.” You leaned up to kiss him before the pair of you set the bags on the kitchen table. Both had got into your roles, after all it hadn’t been the first time that you two went food shopping before coming back to cook together or ordering take - out.
“Just like my face?” You merely rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin painting your lips after all, dad jokes and cringey one – liners were the norm in your relationship. At first you had hated them, finding them borderline narcissistic and arrogant, yet you had come to love them. They had given you reasons to crack a smile when you had been crying or had annoyingly been the reason as to why you gave in so quickly in forgiving him after a fight. It was over for you when he came delivering those one – liners as well as some plate of food.
You had silently chosen Chinese as you put some food on a plate, taking them in front of the TV, as Jin poured some wine before joining you. He had seemed to just know you needed alcohol tonight, almost being his gift to know how you were feeling. Maybe it was your body language, or maybe it was from a general vibe or possibly subtle changes in expression including the way your eyes just seemed to be down as opposed to lighting up. Whatever it was, it was times like these where you were grateful.
Small talk about your respective days was made as you quietly ate whilst you watched some rubbish reality show on the TV. Jin moaned about his annoying boss – Min Yoongi – saying that it wasn’t his fault that his boss didn’t appreciate his dad jokes and told him to “shut his mouth and get on with the job” or risk being fired. Your boyfriend valued his monthly pay check over dad jokes, albeit begrudgingly. Yet despite his talking and the meaningless background chatter from the TV, the weight of the day came crushing down on you. In fact the past week of rushed assignments, rude customers and just bad luck in general weighed down heavily on you as you picked at your food, taking out the frustrations on the innocent chow mein as you sighed heavily.
Ever the observant boyfriend, he stopped eating as he turned his body towards you, eyebrows creased in worry at your lack of appetite. “Jagi, you ok?”
“Hmm?”
“You ok? I know that you prefer the other place but it’s closed on a Monday so I had no choice but to go this one. If you want something else I could heat up- hey why are you crying?” His hands immediately put both your plates on the mahogany coffee table before enveloping you into a hug, his hand rubbing up and down your back opening the dam of tears even more as they soaked through his dress shirt. He said nothing, the only sound that filled the room being the trashy TV and your now quieting sobs, yet it was perfect, his silence saying everything you needed to hear, his body being enough. His grip on you never loosened as tears began to subside, his shirt probably thanking you as the patch on his chest now clearly damp, white cotton sticking to your boyfriend’s broad chest.
Once your sobs had ended Jin silently went to the kitchen to get you a cup of water before repositioning you on the sofa so that you were now directly opposite him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just this week, it’s been so…”
“Shit?” He offered, a sad smile painting his lips as he looked at you yet he didn’t push. He didn’t prod for more information but just let you nod before you sighed.
“That group meeting I had for the presentation in two weeks?”
“Hmm?”
“None of them did their parts! So I have to stay up a couple of times this week to make sure it’s ready. I had an annoying customer so I had to stay behind to close up and then my umbrella broke on the way home.” You stopped to take an intake of breath, your emotions getting on top of you as you rambled. “Then the jeans that I saw from our date two weeks ago? I couldn’t fit and that was the last one.” You cried, ignoring how trivial your worries seemed in the grand scale of things. But added to the weight of your university work, overbearing parents asking you what your life plans were (people saying that you’d know by your second year were liars. Each and everyone of them), stressing about your lack of student loan which barely covered your rent let alone other bills as well as wondering whether it’d be worth it to do further postgraduate education or just to go into work – everything had piled up. And it was today that the proverbial dam broke. No, it shattered. Yet Seokjin, your perfect boyfriend Jin, smiled as he pulled you to him once again as he gently whispered comforting words into your ear.
“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.” He whispered, gently dragging you by the hand to the bathroom. You were confused, your bath had broke by a drunken fresher a couple of weeks ago so apart from a few towels, the sink, shower and the body length mirror, you couldn’t fathom why you boyfriend would pull you into it. “Take off your clothes.”
“I’m not up for shower sex today oppa…”
“I’m not! I promise.” He sat on the edge of the sink as he watched you strip, hesitantly albeit as you became more and more self – conscious as more skin showed, inevitably seeing your body despite wanting to avoid looking in the mirror. You were bigger than most, after binge eating when your depression had been at its worst during your teenage years, curves reflecting in the mirror instead of a thin stick figure that graced annoyingly the covers of magazines everywhere. And another thing to notice were the scars that had accompanied your growing figure, a testament to the sudden growth from the hoards of crisps, pizzas and chips (in your defence, unhealthy food shouldn’t taste so good). Your boyfriend, sending small nods of encouragement from his reflection, had been great, stressing that he loved you for your personality, ability to laugh at his always awful dad jokes as well as you volunteering to be his taster for his cooking inventions. He had stressed that he didn’t care about you scars and that you were curvy, instead complimenting you when you wore dresses to dates and saying that they accentuated your curves in the right places. And of course this all continued when you had sex, him taking the time to whisper that you looked amazing, kissing your scars as he marvelled and treated your body like you were some goddess.
Seokjin had walked behind you now that you were naked, aside from your underwear and bra, his hands stopping you from taking them off. His hand rested at your hips as his brown orbs met your in the reflection.
“What do you see Y/N?” He murmured, his breath tickling your neck, your eyes dropping in shame at your reflection, because what you saw was definitely not what your boyfriend saw. Where you saw yourself as big, incomparable to other girls and riddled with scars, a testament to your past and ongoing struggle with mental health, your boyfriend didn’t. The thought that you weren’t good enough for Seokjin had run through your head at lightening speed yet again, as it occupied your mind frequently. He was a hand crafted sculpture with his ridiculously perfect jawline as girls and boys would always comment on his perfect proportions (where was the lie though?). Wherever you walked with him, women would swoon as men would either send him an appreciative glance or daggers, whilst you just held your head down as you silently walked along. It was those times in which that you couldn’t help but think that he was more physically suited for someone who was at least on the same par as him as well. Two years in and it obviously crossed your mind, that breaking up with him would somehow be saving him almost and would save you snide remarks after he would drop you off at campus. And quite frankly, days like this only made you think more seriously about it.
“Jin I-“
“No Y/N, I want you to have a look and tell me what you see.” He gently lifted your head so that you were facing your reflection. You were ashamed, hand instinctively hugging your tummy, as you let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like it Jin. I just see scars and stretch marks.” You smiled sadly as you met his gaze in the mirror, turning slightly so that you were touching him, just so ready to sink into his embrace but he didn’t let you.
“Oh Y/N… Have you not learnt anything from the last two years?” He sighed, turning your head so you saw yourself in the mirror. “I love all of you.” He knelt down to the floor, never breaking eye contact with you. He kissed your ankle, just a pepper of one, before smiling fondly at you. “I love your ankles, even though you scare me to death with the amount times you roll over them going up the stairs. Not forgetting the way that I love your legs because they look sexy especially in dresses.”
Seokjin’s hands travelled up to the inside of your thighs, you flinching by reflex, slowly and gently caressing your stretch marks. “I love your thighs. You may get jealous of other girls who have a natural thigh gap but I love the way they are. I love that they’re thick because I love that I can warm up my hands in between them during the winter.” Another kiss. “I love that they jiggle.” Another kiss. “And I love it when I run my hands over them when you’re riding me on the sofa whilst we give up on some shitty rom – com. Or when you thigh ride me. Take your pick.” He winked, making you giggle a little, rolling your eyes at his comment along with a slight blush of your cheeks, for said riding had happened less than a week ago. “Hey don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to be serious and romantic here Y/N!” Anyone could tell that it was a light scolding, the crinkle in the corner of his eye showing his true thoughts.
Hands travelling to your ass, grabbing them before placing a kiss one on each cheek.  “Don’t get me started on your ass woman. I’m more of a boob man but wow Y/N.” A small smirk riding his lips as he sent another of his signature winks to you in the mirror. “The way they jiggle when you’re exercising in your leggings that hug you so perfectly. I’ll tell you a secret Y/N – I lie when I say that I have work to do and come into your living room to do it, I just love the view from behind. Especially your squats.” He kissed his fingers like an Italian chef and added a “bellissimo” in his quite frankly awful Italian accent earning a small laugh again, more sincere this time, the effects of his actions immediately having an effect on you.
“Your stomach. And before you start complaining, I love it despite what you think.” His frown was enough to tell you not to interrupt his grand speech and he peppered loads of kisses on your midriff. “You may be bigger than normal but that means you give the best hugs Y/N! I come to yours after a hard day at work because people, especially Min Yoongi, can be a bitch sometimes and I feel so comforted by your hugs. You don’t even have to say anything – it’s a gift! Also, I just love you because you don’t complain about any of the food I cook for you.” He grinned, making eye contact with you again. You were just about to interrupt, wanting to make a point about the time he practically burnt the food but put it down to “enthusiastically crisp” when he shut you up by standing up to give you a small peck on the lips. It was definitely effective for sure. “And the most important thing Y/N – if you’re heavier than average people then it’ll be harder to kidnap you. You can’t leave me Y/N! You’re stuck with me jai.” A peck on the cheeks made you smile again as he went to stand behind you, locking eyes with you again in the mirror.
“And only coming ahead of your ass by a teeny bit is your boobs. You know how I feel about this Y/N… I just love them. I love sleeping on them when I’m ill or tired, I love kissing them and leaving hickeys,” He stopped only to make a point on wriggling his eyebrows. “and I love the way they bounce when you ride me or when I’m on top. I love it when you come home and take your bra off and you sometimes unknowingly let out a sigh because you hate the underwire or when I find you sometimes just holding your boobs like when we watch a film or just whenever.” Your cheeks grew at that, damn your boyfriend for being observant. He kissed them each before his kisses travelled to your neck, breath tickling it.
“Ahhh your neck. I love it when you get flustered in the mornings because you’re either trying to find the right shade of concealer or find a turtleneck top that’ll cover the hickeys that I leave which you make the most adorable moan every time I do. And I’ll never be able to get over the fact that you trust me so much to allow me to press down on your neck slightly during rough sex Y/N. I know that opening up hasn’t been easy for you, and that trust doesn’t come easily, but trusting me to do that is something that I really take to be a privilege and I hope you know that.” A few kisses on your neck punctuated the end of that.
“Now to your face. Hmmm shall we start from your eyes? They say that the eyes are windows to the soul and with you that couldn’t be more truthful with you. Your eyes light up whenever you talk about the disabled kids that you volunteer with or whenever you talk about Tom Holland,” You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes at the latter half of that sentence but then who could resist the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman? “not forgetting when your eyebrows furrow when you concentrate. Then there’s your lips, your glorious lips! They’re plump and kissable which makes it so hard for me Y/N, you don’t understand!” He gave them a peck, leaving you wanting more of course. “Your cheeks! Are so squishable and cute! I love the way they blush even if you don’t because when you do you become the most adorable girlfriend in the world and even more, you’re mine!” His smile was wide enough to light up the universe at this rate. God you really loved Kim Seokjin.
Lastly, as both of his hands held your wrists, you knew what the next thing would be. “I love your wrists because they tell a story about you. Each and every scar that you may hate teach me something about you. To you it shows your struggles, but to me it shows how incredibly strong you are. It shows me that despite it being some of the hardest and darkest years of your life, you are the bravest person I know for seeking help from your university counselling service. Not only that but having the courage to tell your friends and family and then cutting the people out of your life who only laughed at you for it shows you’re putting yourself first for once and that makes me so incredibly happy because after giving so much for others, it’s the least you deserve.” He pauses to see a lone tear falling down your face and only kisses the scars on your wrists, no words being spoken.
“You are my inspiration Y/N. You are the reason that I get up to go to work every morning so that I can save up to spend our future together. Because even though you had a hard past, you came out so much stronger and I will try my damn hardest to make sure that your future is pain – free as possible. I promise Y/N because I love all of you. I love your imperfections and I love your perfections. I love the things that you’re bad at and equally, the things you excel at. Because we’re partners in crime and we do and will complete each other. And if you ever fall back into your dark place and your demons come to haunt you, then we’ll face it together. We’ll go to therapy or if you just need a break from everything then we’ll go away for a week somewhere. Whatever happens I will be with you Y/N and simply because I love all of you.” He took a breath, standing in front of you, in front of your reflection, so that you were facing each other.
“Seokjin, I… I don’t know what to say.” Your tears kept streaming down and sniffles echoed in the bathroom because you really were lucky to have him.
“Then don’t. Just know that I love all of you and that’ll be enough.” He kissed your forehead before pulling you in for a hug.
“Just thank you Seokjin. Thank you for everything.” You whispered, tears soaking his shirt for the second time that night. Yet you felt incredibly happy. You were happy that in despite of everything, you were loved, something that you couldn’t have fathomed years ago. You were so incredibly loved by the man that held you that you knew that you’d face everything together.
“Anything for you.”
“But you really had to mention your jealousy for Tom Holland?”
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omeliastoriesbyari · 5 years
Text
This is My Life
This prompt takes place years later Amelia and Owen have 3 kids together Leo, Flynn, and Olivia including Owen’s daughter with Teddy. Amelia is 5 months pregnant with their twins. Megan has come back to Seattle to visit Owen and the kids.
Its a Saturday afternoon around 3 o’clock Owen and Amelia are getting the kids ready to take them to the park. Amelia is in her and Owen’s room helping Flynn their 2 year old son. While Owen got Olivia and Leo ready to go.
“Amelia have you seen Leo’s blue hoodie?” Owen said looking underneath the couch.
“Um I think its hanging up by the door last time I checked” Amelia said putting Flynn down.
While Owen was walking towards the coat rack to grab Leo’s hoodie the doorbell rings. Owen opens the door to see Megan standing there with a huge smile on her face. She immediately pulls Owen into a hug basically squeezing him to death. 
“Megan what are you doing here?” Owen said confused because he hadn’t told her that he and Amelia are back together or let along the mother of her 2nd nephew or her future niece and nephew. Megan knows about Flynn and that Owen is having twins but she just doesn’t know with who. 
“I wanted to surprise you because I hadn’t seen you since the birth of Little Olivia Megan Hunt. And I wanted to meet Mr. Flynn Austin since I wasn’t able to come for his birth and don’t forget I have to visit Teddy because I want to know how she’s been since having three kids now.” Megan said.
“Megan I’m not with Teddy,” Owen said nervously looking around.
“Owen its okay if y’all aren’t together at this moment,” Megan said walking into his house.
Owen sighed and put his head in his arms because he knew this was going to be bad since Megan doesn’t really know Amelia and doesn’t really like her because of their past that she know of. Megan sits down and out runs Leo and Olivia calling their dad.
“Dad tell Lia to stop,” Leo said holding his dinosaur Amelia bought for his first birthday and he has been in love with it ever since.
“Livi stop you know that’s his. You have your own toys would you like if Leo tried to play with bun bun?” Owen asked his 4 year old daughter.
“No Dada,” Olivia said pouting.
“Omg look how big you two have you gotten,” Megan said grabbing Leo and Olivia into a big hug. 
Megan hugged them as tight as their little bodies could handle and give them big kisses. The kids were so excited because Owen had told them so much about their aunt Megan and how brave she was and she was the girl version of daddy.
“Owen go get Flynn I can’t wait to meet him,” Megan said pushing Owen.
“Ok Livi can you go get your brother ?” Owen asked.
Out walks little Flynn he was for sure his mother from the his curly brown hair to his deep dimples. Flynn looked like the kid clone version of Amelia with Owen’s sky blue eyes with a tint of grey in them. Megan picked the Flynn up she was so excited to see him.
“Hi Mr. Flynn I’m your aunt Megan,” Megan said holding the chubby toddler close to her.
“He doesn’t look like you or Teddy I would say that this kid isn’t yours but he has your eyes,” Megan said.
“Because he isn’t Teddy’s son,” Owen said kinda irritated.
“Owen are you ready to go I’m sorry it took me a long............. Amelia was saying before her eyes met Megan. She was really surprised because she didn’t even she was there.
“ Owen you have to be kidding me really?” Megan said looking at Amelia which was getting Owen annoyed.
“You really are an idiot you have a good women in front of you for years and you push her away then get married twice. Then you get divorce twice then you start messing with your ex again then she sends you to Germany to be with another women then you get teddy pregnant and you still pick another woman over her,” Megan says putting Flynn and standing up toward Owen.
“ I love Teddy and the friendship we have but we were never going to be a couple. Megan you want me to live a fantasy your brother and best friend are happily in love with each other. But we aren’t she is with somebody else and I’m with someone and we are happy.” Owen says trying reassure Megan of his happiness.
“Owen you chose to go back to her when she didn’t even care to be there for you when your own sister was sick. She obviously didn’t care about you when she sent you to Germany. She didn’t even want to have kids with you and she didn’t want Leo either. I heard the moment y’all broke up she started sleeping with the new surgeon at the hospital,” Megan said.
Amelia was shocked by what Megan said about how she didn’t care about Owen and she didn’t want Leo. Amelia was being strong and holding back her tear while looking about at her 5 month belly. Owen was pissed when he looked at Leo who was about to cry when he heard that his mommy want him. Leo loved Amelia so much for the words that she didn’t want to come out someone’s mouth broke him. Leo threw his dinosaur and ran to his room as fast as he could while tears ran down his red cheeks.
“ Really why would you do that to a 5 year old child? I want you out don’t ever speak to me or my children,” Amelia said to Megan as ran after Leo to calm him down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” Megan said with disappointment.
“ Megan don’t get the right to criticize for what we been through. Amelia is the most amazing person I know she’s extremely gorgeous, funny, kind, sweet, generous, sometimes talkative but most importantly the most loving mother and wife. Yes Amelia didn’t want kids at first because of her past but you don’t know her past so you don’t get to throw it in her face. Her not wanting to sign Leo’s papers were my fault but she never said she didn’t want Leo because she loves Leo so much. When I went to therapy my therapist made me realize what I want in MY LIFE and who I WANT it with. I want to be with Amelia because I love everything about her. I love our fights together I love everything we’ve built together. I will always love Teddy but she isn’t my soul mate she and I know it. But Amelia is and has always has been. Amelia and Our kids are my life and they are the family I’ve always wanted but with our own craziness in it so back off. You need to apologize to my kids and wife,” Owen said with so aggravation.  
Amelia walked out and gave Owen a sweet sweet hug and kiss on his cheek. “I love you so much Owen,” Amelia said.
“I’m so sorry Amelia I shouldn’t have judged you without even knowing you and what I said about you and Leo was very messed up,” Megan said.    
27 notes · View notes