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squoxle · 7 months

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꒰ა☆໒꒱ 𝒫𝓊𝒷𝓁𝒾𝒸 𝒮𝑒𝓍 𝒲/ 𝐸𝓃-𝐻𝓎𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝑒

🙈 pairing: Enha!bf x Reader!gf | 🙈wc: 4k | approx. 1k wc per member 🙈summary: Public sex scenarios w/ your Enhypen boyfriend 🙈 cw: 🔞MDNI!!... it's smut so just be prepared

희승|Heeseung|wc~1k|🛍️ Sex at the Mall

You and Heeseung were at the mall shopping for a new dress. You were attending a family dinner with your boyfriend’s parents tomorrow night! And you had been procrastinating for a week already. Now you were in panic mode.

“Ugh!” You groaned as you took off the third dress you’d tried on in the last 30 minutes. “Babe, relax. It’s just my parents. You’ve already met them anyway. Just think of this as a normal event ok. No stress.”

You heard your boyfriend, Heeseung, say in a gentle voice. He knew how much pressure you were putting on yourself about this dinner. It’s true, you’ve met his parents about 3 times now and there really was nothing to worry about. But you wanted to look your best and all of the dresses you’ve tried on so far have made you feel like the ugliest girl on planet Earth.

You looked at your body in the mirror. You pointed out every flaw which made you hate your body even more. You plopped down on the bench in the small dressing room and started to cry.

“Babe? Are you okay?” Heeseung asked from the other side of the door. “Yea, I’m fine. Can you just go away for a little bit. Sorry…” you sighed. The last thing you wanted was for your boyfriend to see you crying over something as silly as this.

“Yea…sure,” he replied. You listened as his footsteps walked away from the dressing room. You broke down and cried more.

*Why the hell am I even here right now?* you thought to yourself. *Just forget it. I’m gonna put my clothes on and get the hell out of here.*

The thoughts in your head made you cry even more. Your insecurities had taken control of your emotions and all you could think about was going home to cry. Maybe you could fake being sick to skip out on the torture.

Heeseung walked into the dressing room, startling you. “What’s wrong baby?” He asked as he sat down next to you on the bench. “Nothing,” you lied. “Don’t lie. I know something is wrong. It’s about this stupid dinner isn’t it?” He had got it right on the first try, but there was more to it than that. You just looked down as he pulled you in for a side hug.

“I don’t even wanna go anymore,” you pouted. “Really? But you were so excited about it,” he was quiet for a moment as you layed in his chest. “Is it your body?” “I don’t want to talk about it ok! I’m not going.” “You know I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world right? I don’t care how many times I have to tell you,” Heeseung smiled before placing a kiss on your forehead.

He pulled you onto his lap and wipes the tears from your eyes and cheeks. “I love you my beautiful girl,” Heeseung said kissing your cheek.

Overwhelmed by your love for Heeseung and the passion of his actions, you succumbed to your heart’s desire. You kissed your boyfriend on the lips and felt as the kiss deepened by the motions of your tongue and lips connecting.

You started to slightly grind against him. At this point all you were wearing was your oversized tee, your bra, and your panties. You heard Heeseung groan at your movements before whispering in your ear, “If you wanna play we gotta be quick.”

His breathy voice made your heart flutter. You braced yourself against Heeseung’s shoulders as he pulled out his throbbing cock. He used the wetness oozing from your pussy to glide between your lips.

You he stimulated your clit with the tip of his dick. He slowly pushed himself through your tight opening, causing you to slightly flinch at the pain. He gently thrusted his hips, pushing deeper into your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he winced. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Heeseung wrapped his hands around your ass, pulling you directly on top of his lap. He guided your hips back and forth before you eventually caught on to the rhythm. The two of you were rolling your hips against each other. You watched as he would occasionally throw his head back, holding back his moans, which turned you on even more.

You leaned in to kiss and suck on his neck while he continued to pump his dick into you. The sensation of your lips on his neck caused him to let out a little moan. “Fuck baby. You’re making it hard to stay quiet,” he smiled with his lustful doe eyes.

Heeseung looked over to see the clock on the wall. You guys had already been fucking for 8 minutes…it definitely didn’t feel that long. “Hmm we gotta speed this up beautiful,” Heeseung said with a cheeky and seductive look on his face. He started to slam himself into you faster. Your eyes widened as you gasped. The feeling of him pumping this hard and fast into your pussy accompanied with the devilish smirk on his face was enough to make you cum right there.

Heeseung grabbed your head and shoved it into his shoulder, lining your ear up with his lips. “I wanna hear my beautiful girl moan for me while I fuck her pretty little pussy,” he whispered as he gripped his hands around your waist. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby. You’re so close,” Heeseung said breathlessly as your walls clenched around him.

The feeling of his breath on your neck and his sexy groans caused you to moan as you came all over him. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your sounds. As soon as you finished cumming, you felt Heeseung slam himself into you 5 more times before you felt his hot load coat your insides.

The two of you sat there for a moment, breathless. He loosened his grip on your waist as he kissed your shoulder. “Fifteen minutes,” you smiled shyly. “Quick enough,” he chuckled.

“I think you should wear the black dress. It’s sexy and classy. But you’ll look beautiful no matter what,” he smiled.

You stood up to see his cum running down your leg. “We’ll get you cleaned up at home,” Heeseung said, noticing his sticky residue. He took his two fingers to swipe it up and put them in your mouth. “I love you,” he smiled. “I love you too.”

제이|Jay|wc-1k|🎸Sex at a Concert

You and Jay had been planning this concert date for the past few weeks. You were going to see one of your favorite bands preform live this weekend.

Jay bought two front row tickets to give you guys the best view AND an opportunity to maybe even interact with the artists.

The two of you arrived at the venue around 6pm, but the concert didn’t officially start until 10, so you had a little time to look around the area.

“Hey. Do you wanna grab something to eat?” Jay asked as he spotted a food stand. “Yea sure,” you replied. You hadn’t eaten anything except a piece of toast and an apple since breakfast this morning around 11. It’s only because you didn’t want to be late. You had already expected to take over an hour to get dressed. Which is exactly what ended up happening.

Jay held your hand and walked to the food stand to place your order. “Hello, lovelies. What can I get for y’all today?” The girl behind the counter said in a chipper tone. “Hello. Can I have one con of street corn, a jumbo salted pretzel, and one large snowball?” “Okay, perfect. And what flavor would you like for the snowball?” “Half Tigers Blood and half banana with a scoop of ice cream in the middle.” “Alright. Is there anything else I can do for you?” “Yea one more thing. Can you put a couple shots of rum in that snowball too?” “Of course I can. Your order will be ready in about 10 minutes,” the girl scribbled your order down on a notepad.

You and Jay walked over to the shaded table not too far from the shack. You watched as the girl passed the order off to her coworker who started to prepare the food.

“I’ve never had Tigers Blood before. What would that even taste like,” you asked Jay. “It’s kinda like strawberry and watermelon. I know it sounds weird, but trust me you’ll love it,” he smiled.

A few minutes later the girl carried out a tray with your order on it. "I gave y'all two spoons cuz I figure you're gonna share this," she chuckled before returning back to the register. Jay scooped up a spoon of the snowball, making sure to gather a little bit of everything in one bite.

"Open up," he said moving the spoon to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth as he put the cold spoon against your tongue. The taste was better than you imagined, especially with the ice cream, and the rum was added a nice touch.

"What do you think," he smirked. Judging by the expression on your face he could already tell that you liked it. "It's really good," you mumbled before taking another scoop. "Haha, I knew you'd like it," Jay smiled, taking a bite of his corn.

Not to your surprise, you had eaten more than half of the snowball by yourself and you were starting to feel the effects of the rum. You and Jay walked around for a little while longer before the concert.

"Hey the concert's starting in 15 minutes, let's get to our spots," Jay said as you walked in the direction of the concert stage.

The two of you managed to secure some pretty good spots and even took a few pics, but you had something else on your mind. Alcohol had a tendency to make you extremely horny sometimes, and this was one of those times.

You were standing in front of the gated border of the concert when you got the idea to move closer to your boyfriend. He watched as you shuffled in front of him. He responded by wrapping his arms around you, which you used as an opportunity to rub your ass against him.

"What are you doing?" Jay grunted, but instead of replying you kept grinding your ass against his hardening member. "Ugh! Y-Y/N," he stammered. You were relentless, the feeling of him getting hard coupled with your intense lustful thoughts was turning you into a cock-hungry succubus.

He quickly turned you around to face him. "Jay," you whined seductively. You knew his weakness was hearing you moan his name which is why you weren't surprised when he immediately grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd of sweaty bodies.

Jay took you to an empty booth not too far from the concert. You could still hear the music faintly. You started to get down on your knees to suck his dick when he lifted you up and bent you over the counter. "Uh uh, I'm gonna fuck you in the same position you were teasing me in," Jay smirked before smacking his hand across your ass. He pulled his dick out and slid the latex condom over his stiff member.

"You're such a needy girl for me," Jay continued, pulling down your shorts. "If you didn't have to put these back on, I would've ripped these right off," Jay groaned, gliding his dick across your ass before sliding it between your thighs, grazing your throbbing pussy through your panties. He pulled your panties down and inserted himself into your needy hole. You moaned at the sharp pain that came before the pleasure.

You moaned his name as he fucked you hard and fast while pulling your hair. He didn't finish and fucked your pussy raw for the rest of the concert. "Jay," you panted. "The concert's almost over," you continued. "I can't take anymore," you whimpered. Your legs were shaking from cumming so many times, but he still stood behind you as strong as he started.

"Okay, baby. Just hold on for a little bit longer," he whispered before spitting on your pussy and inserting himself back into your pussy. He started to rub your clit in circles as he grinded against your g-spot before cumming in your pussy. You laid over the counter completely drained as Jay came behind you to readjust your clothes before carrying you back to the car.

제이크|Jake|wc-1k|🏖️ Sex on the Beach

You and Jake were at the Carnival Pier in your city. It had opened up about a week ago and you were just finally getting the opportunity to go.

"This is so exciting, don't ya think?" Jake smiled as he parked his white pickup truck. "Yea! I can't wait to ride the bumper cars," you replied, unbuckling your seatbelt and tossing your backpack over your shoulder as you climbed out of the truck. "No way! I didn't know they were doing the bumper cars this year! We gotta do that first," he laughed as he slammed the door and locked his truck. He ran around to lift you onto his back as he ran to the entrance of the carnival.

“Jake! Put me down,” you giggled. “We gotta move fast so we can be in the front of the line,” Jake huffed.

“Excuse me. Where are the bumper cars?” Jake panted. “Oh, there to the left as soon as you pass through these gates,” the Ticketmaster responded. “Thank you,” Jake said before running off.

“Okay, okay. You can put me down now,” you laughed as you slid down Jake’s back to the ground. He didn’t waste a second as he grabbed your hand and ran to get in line. “Yes! We’re next,” he cheered.

After the third round of bumper cars, Jake was ready to try something new. Mainly because the line was starting to get really long. You bounced around to a few different rides before Jake was ready to play some games. "Hey, I wanna win you something okay," Jake smiled as he looked around for a game with a prize he deemed worthy of his time.

"Over there," he exclaimed, pointing to a giant Pikachu plush. "Aww he's so cute," you smiled. "I know right. And I'm gonna get it for you," Jake said before walking over to play the basketball game. The objective was to throw each of the 5 balls in without missing. However, you knew Jake wasn't very good at basketball so you tried to encourage him to play something else.

"How about we go for that panda plush instead? He's cute too. Plus it's a game that is super easy," you suggested. "Nah, I want a challenge and I'm confident that I'll be able to do it," he smiled. "Are you sure?" "Yea, babe. I got this." Jake walked up to the basketball stand and paid for his first of eight consecutive failed attempts.

"Hey, man. How about you just take one of our smaller prizes since you've already spent like 40 bucks on this game," the boy running the booth said to Jake. "No way. I got this," Jake said paying for his ninth round of basketball. The first 4 went in perfectly, but on the last shot, the ball rolled around the rim before falling in. Jake laughed and jumped in the air before handing you the giant Pikachu plush. "I told you I got it," he smiled.

It was getting late so you and Jake rode the Ferris wheel one time before heading down to the beach. He drove his truck down there and the two of you lay on your makeshift bed in the trunk looking up at the stars.

"Jake! What are you doing," you asked as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Swimming," he laughed, as he hopped off the back of the truck. "Hey, wait for me," you said before stripping down to your bra and panties. The two of you ran into the water and splashed around for a bit before Jake tackled you into the warm, salty water. You tried to get him back, but he was much stronger than you and you ended up wrapped in his arms listening to the sound of his heart thumping in his chest.

He pulled back to look into your eyes before gently kissing your lips. "I love you," he smiled as he leaned in you kiss you again. "I love you too."

Jake pulled you in for another kiss as he caressed your body. You felt as his hands traveled from your waist to your ass, but his lips never left yours. You wrapped your legs around him and started to grind against him before he put you down and walked you back to his truck.

You laid on your back as Jake straddled you, his figure highlighted by the light of the moon. He pulled your panties to the side before moving between your legs to stimulate your clit with his tongue while fingering you. He spread your pussy with his fingers before spitting on your opening. Then he pulled out his dick before pushing it into your throbbing cunt. You felt as he took long slow strokes to help your pussy adjust to his size, before picking up the pace. Jake liked to fuck you passionately sometimes, and romantic pleasure was just as good as aggressive pleasure.

Jake worked his dick up inside you pulling out just a bit to give attention to your g-spot. He could feel your walls clenching up and tightening around him as he stimulated you more by rubbing your clit. You were reaching your high and started to move your hips with his stroking pattern. "Fuck me harder," you whispered, causing Jake to pick up the speed. At that point, you could barely keep up as your body began to jerk around. The feeling of you pulsating around the length of his dick and your soft, sweet moans caused Jake to get off at the same time as you. You felt his hot cum fill your pussy up as he thrusted himself inside of you.

He rolled over to the side of you before kissing your forehead and cradling you in his arms. The two of you ended up falling asleep together under the soft blanket in the back of his truck.

성훈|Sunghoon|wc-900|🎥 Sex at the Cinema

“Are you sure you wanna watch this movie?” Sunghoon asked before purchasing the tickets. The two of you were going to watch a horror movie from last year. This week the cinema was playing throwback horror movies for Halloween.

“Of course I am, I’m not scared,” you huffed. “Right,” Sunghoon chuckled. He knew that you were terrified of horror movies, but he wasn’t gonna try and change your mind. He knew that you were just as stubborn as him, so it was pointless to try to convince you otherwise.

“Two tickets please,” Sunghoon said to the box office attendant. “Alright. Here ya go. Enjoy the movie,” the boy smiled.

The movie wasn’t starting yet and the two of you had to wait another 35 minutes before entering. “Hey I’m gonna go get us some snacks. You can wait here if you want,” Sunghoon said as you sat down at one of the round red tables in the food court. “Okay,” you replied before he walked away to place the order.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see an attractive brown skinned guy with curly hair. He looked to be about a year or two older than you and the scent of his cologne coupled with the way he looked in the tight fitting white tee that showed off his muscular body was enough to get your attention.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you know if this theater has a gift shop?” “Uhh…no, but they do have a good stand.” “Yea, well that’s kinda hard to miss,” he chuckled. *wow he has a really nice smile* you thought to yourself.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” you shrugged. “It’s all good. Thanks anyway. Hold on, don’t move,” he said, reaching his hand toward your face. He gently rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone. “Did you cut yourself?” “Huh?” “You have a scar on your face.”

You pulled out your phone to see for yourself and sure enough there was a red mark on your face. “Ohhh, yea that was probably from the curling iron this morning,” you chuckled. “Clumsy and cute,” he said under his breath. “What?” You asked even though you knew exactly what he said. “You’re really beautiful. My name’s Christian, but you can just call me Chris. What’s your name?” “Thanks. I’m—“

“Ahem,” Sunghoon cut you off. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything. Hi, I’m Sunghoon, her boyfriend.” “Kay, and?” Chris sneered. “You might wanna stop hitting on my girlfriend before I knock your teeth out.” “Heh, right. First of all, she was hitting on me—“

“WHAT?!” You cut him off. “Oh don’t act all innocent. I could tell you wanted me by the way you were looking me up and down.”

“From what I saw you were cheesing all up in her face.” “Man, whatever. Fuck both of y’all,” Chris threw his hands in the air and walked off.

“Sunghoon, I—“ “I don’t wanna hear it. Let’s just go watch the movie,” he said before the two of you walked into the theater. You two sat at the top row in the seats farthest to the back since you had wasted so much time those were the best ones available.

The energy was stale and tense. You were honestly more scared of Sunghoon than the movie. What was he thinking? Was he mad at you?

“Sunghoon?” “Hmm?” His eyes were glued to the screen as he responded to you. “Are you okay?” Instead of replying he stayed quiet. “Sunghoon, please say something,” you pleaded. He turned to face you with a numb expression. “What?” “Are you okay?” “Go ask your other boyfriend,” he mumbled before turning back to face the screen. “Sunghoon, nothing happened back there.” “Right, so you’re telling me you didn’t just let some stranger touch all over you?” “What?” “Don’t play fucking dumb. I saw the whole thing.” “He was just—nothing. Nevermind. Forget it,” you huffed.

“No, go ahead and finish what you were saying about your new boyfriend.” “Ugh!” You grunted in frustration. “Fuck this,” you said, crossing your arms.

Sunghoon grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. “S—“ he cut you off by kissing you again. He grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You could feel his hard dick against your ass as he reached to rip your panties off. Before you could even react he had already started thrusting himself into your pussy and covered your mouth with his hand to keep you from making too much noise.

Your pussy was dripping with your own fluids that coated his dick and he fucked you harder and faster to the point you felt sick as he constantly pounded your cervix. You were quickly reaching your climax as Sunghoon squeezed on your lower stomach.

“Next time I see you flirting with a guy I’ll fuck you just like this right in front of him,” he whispered as he released the grip on your shaking body.

You dozed off shortly after that and didn't wake up until the end credits came on. "Did you like the movie?" he asked in a soothing voice. "Mhm," you nodded, still half asleep. "I love you," he said kissing your shoulder, which made you smile. Then he wrapped his arm around you as the two of you left the theater and walked to his car.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @fox-kimsunoo @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @nikisblkgf @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae

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hanichani · 3 months

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hii!! could u do a skz (preferably i.n or ot8) when they have an idol!so and they reveal their relationship??

hi anon!! i tried to make this kind of as realistic as possible but at the same time i feel like jyp would never let this happen so this is what i came up with😭

Pairing: ot8 x gn!idol!reader Genre: fluff, a tiny bit angsty i guess Warnings: none that i could think of, everyone's stressing Word count: 1,3k

i hope you like it <3 (sorry it took so long)

Channie

realistically, i don’t think chan would want to reveal the relationship up until after the peak of their career if ever. i feel like he’s just too tied down by all the responsibilities he has towards the company. but i also think that out of all of the other members he would do the best at consoling you if you ever wanted to go public and he told you no. he would feel so bad but it’s just something he knows he can’t risk. and a big part of why he wouldn’t do it is that he’s afraid you’d receive hate so he’s really just trying to protect you and your career.

if the relationship ever got leaked, boy would have to do so much damage control. even if it’s accepted by everyone and actually somehow boosts your careers and only has good outcomes. mans would be out there writing apology letters like “hi, this is stray kids’ bang chan and i’m so sorry i lied to you all about my relationship.” like it’s not his private business.

Lee know

lee know would throw in little quips and hints during things like skz code and stuff. do you know how he talked about the friend he went to japan with and said he was his boyfriend? he’d do that with you as well. pretend that he’s joking and when they’re all asked about your group he’d say “yea, we hung out once. they’re actually my partner now.” and then do the little :] smile. hannie would obviously throw in a little “what about me?” and then the whole mention about your relationship goes unnoticed. but he would try to slowly get there through hints.

if this relationship ever got leaked, he’d come over that same day with the biggest smile on his face. i feel like he’d genuinely be happy and i think someday, down the line, he’d confirm it on his own by sending a not the most flattering picture of you surrounded with his cats to bubble. for which you’d scold him later.

Changbin

i feel like changbin would really want to tell EVERYONE. like, he’s so proud to be your boyfriend and he wants to tell the world. but he knows he can’t. he would also just mention you during skz talker and stuff. i think he’d show the camera a video of you doing a dance trend or something and be like “waaah, aren’t they so talented?” meanwhile in his head he’s also adding “and they’re all mine”.

he’s happy as well when the relationship gets leaked. is even happier that it happens around the time of your new comeback because now he can do your dance challenge with you and not feel weird about it. wouldn’t address it but in his next vlog, he tells the staff not to blur you out anymore. (which i know that they don’t really post vlogs anymore BUT BINNIE’S WERE MY FAVORITE AND I MISS THEM OKAY)

Hyunjin

feel like hyune would be STRESSED when you first bring up the idea of going public. he’d tell you that he’ll think about it but is probably the most open to it. he’d have a meeting about it with the higher ups and you would too but it would be a while before they actually allowed you to do it.

when it does happen, i think it would just be him posting pictures from a versace event and then the last picture would be the two of you together. your back pressed against his chest, his hand placed over your stomach and your hand reaching back to hold his face while looking at each other. you’d obviously be wearing your versace outfits and the caption would be something like “thank you donatella, me and my y/n enjoyed the event so much”. safe to say stays go crazy and your fandom does as well.

Jisung

i think hannie wouldn’t be comfortable revealing it but we all know boy has a big mouth. i think he’d just leak his own relationship tbh. yk how sometimes he just speaks poems about how he’s so fond of minho? one question asked about you and he’s spilling on air. “ah y/n? yeah, i’ve never met anyone as hard working… well, except for my members. yeah, they’re just so amazing and we match so well, you know. it was honestly like out of a fairytale. i mean, um… like… you know, like the friendship?” and then chan is jumping into the conversation and changing the topic, thank god for his leader.

he’d be terrified after but you’re there to calm him down. at some point you get asked about it in an interview and you decide to just clear it up. “did you hear what stray kids’ han said about you the other day?” the interviewer asks. “ah yeah. adorable, wasn’t he? i have to say, it really was like out of a fairytale. it might sound corny but we just clicked so well, you know.” you smile and wave into the camera, mouthing a hi baby because you just know that he’s going to watch this interview the moment it comes out. (chan is beyond stressed because of you two)

Felix

lixie would love the idea of going public but he would be too scared of the consequences i think. feel like it would be similar to hyunjin because he would want you at all of his events and at some point the fans start to be like…hmm is it a coincidence that they always appear together at the same events. but obviously that’s not enough to just assume that you’re both dating.

at some point lix accidentally sends the wrong picture to bubble and it’s a picture where you’re cuddled together in bed and you’re kissing his cheek. he meant to send the one of him alone that he took when you went to the bathroom. he’s freaked out but then he just kind of accepts it and is happy because so much pressure has just been taken off his shoulders. the next picture of the two of you that appears on bubble is sent intentionally with a bunch of light blue hearts.

Seungmin

seungmin would absolutely NOT want to reveal the relationship. he has a reputation to uphold as the grumpy one. that’s what he says but really he’s just too scared of the reactions and feedback. he doesn’t mind getting hate, he feels used to that but he doesn’t want you to receive it. he’s also worried that people would put you down for dating him out of everyone else. this leads to you both having a looong conversation where he starts sobbing at some point because he does feel insecure but he never lets himself feel those things unless it’s with you.

this in turn makes him realize that you are very important to him and now he’s even more conflicted. should he tell everyone that you’re his or should he work even harder to protect your relationship. in the end, he decides to let you make the decision. he’s happy with whatever you choose as long as you’re by his side.

Jeongin

i think innie would actually be the one to bring this up with you. after they all get their instagrams, hyunjin gets his piercing and the company lets more loose in general, he feels that it could go through. so he brings it up with jyp and gets the green light (which is not realistic at all but let’s pretend for the sake of this drabble).

i know that innie doesn’t do the ootd posts anymore but i think it would be so cute if he revealed it through that. he would post an ootd post and then on some of the pictures you’re there as well. just a power couple posing together. and then also, some of the more observing fans would notice that hey, isn’t that innie’s shirt that y/n was wearing in their new post. and hey isn’t that the same bag that y/n has in jeongin’s new post? it’d just be really cute because you’d both be so excited about it and flaunting it.

a/n: requests are open by the way!!!

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pablitogavii · 9 months

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Her Tummy

Summary: Pablo LOVING your pregnant tummy

Very wholesome story for y'all <33

"Amorcito, where are you??" Pablo's voice was heard from the hallway and you smiled immediately calling his name form the kitchen. You were grabbing your daily fruit snack satisfying your ever growing cravings for sweets.

"Ai princesita mia..it's so good to be home" he said going behind you and snaking his arms around your waist placing his large hands on your pregnant belly.

Ever since your bump started growing, touching and feeling it has quickly became Pablo's favorite thing to do. You weren't complaining always loving to see his smile while he felt the baby inside your tummy.

"Why won't he kick!?" he said wanting to feel his son desperately and you chuckled at his impatience reminding him it's not something you can control.

"He's sleeping amor, and please don't wake him cause I need a break" you said and he promised kissing the side of your head before walking with you to the couch.

"Have I told you today how beautiful your tummy looks like this..tan bonita" he said leaning down and kissing your bump while you snacked on your fruit ball and playing with his fluffy hair.

"Mhm..today and every other day cariño" you say and he smiles up at you nodding his head before pecking your lips quickly stealing one slice of apple. You snarled at him wanting it all for yourself and he chuckled raising his hands up in surrender.

"Don't kill me mami" he smirks and you roll your eyes secretly loving the new nickname you will soon get to carry.

"Then stop stealing our snacks papi!!" you said and Pablo chuckled nodding his head and pulling you close to him caressing your tummy again while you relaxed.

"There is a dinner next weekend we need to attend preciosa" he said after awhile and you woke up after hearing that looking up into his eyes.

"What is it for?" you ask a little worried about finding the dress that still fits.

"Just a club reunion por la nueva temporada of the documentario" he said and you were now really stressing over what to wear because it was a BIG event!

"I have nothing to wear Pablo!" you say looking at him with sad eyes and he kissed your lips gently before pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Que dices preciosa? Everything on you looks perfecto princesa!" he said and you smile that he didn't understand what you meant exactly. It wasn't that you had no good dresses but they were all too small for you now.

"Amor, I need a dress for pregnancy.." you say and his eyes open wider as he nodded quickly saying you both should go shopping one day before the dinner.

While you were trying dresses on, Pablo was sitting outside waiting patiently to see you in them. He was very excited to see how your tummy looks in dresses meant to make it stand out more.

"Can you zip me amor?" you same out turning your back to him and he nodded zipping it up for you and when you turned around his breathing stopped for a second at the sight of you.

"What is it? Doesn't look good?" you said a little self conscious trying to hide your tummy with your hands but he was quick to take them away placing them on his chest instead.

The dress you wore: ps. I LOVE Bruna <33

"You look like a diosa amor! I'm speechless que guapa eres..you both are so perfect!" he said touching your tummy again and you smile feeling your eyes fill with tears at his compliment. Damn hormones!

"Gracias Pablito.." you say and he smiled pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head before raising your chin up and kissing your lips lovingly.

During the whole even, Pablo's hand never left your tummy and even all his fans commented that every photo showed him touching, caressing or kissing it. Everyone found it so adorable and so did you feeling like the most special woman in the world.

"Leave the poor woman alone cabrón! Como estas amiga?" Pedri joked hitting Pablo's head and he rolled his eyes in response. You always loved their brotherly relationship.

"Muy bien Pepi. Pablito is taking good care of us" you said fixing Pablo's hair while his cheeks blushed a little while he looked at your tummy longingly. He wanted to touch it so badly but didn't want to bother you anymore taking what Pedri said seriously.

"And the little chaval? He a trouble maker like his papi??" Pedri said and you giggled nodding your head saying he kicks so much he will surely be a futbolista.

"Ojala!" Pablo said seeing how brightly you smiled while talking about your son making you a special kind of beautiful in Pablo's eyes.

"Hopefully, he gives you a break tonight?" Pedri said and you shook your head taking his hand and placing it on your tummy so he can feel the little kicks. Pablo Jr was definitely excited tonight with the event.

"That's crazy! How does that not hurt!?" Pedri said and you giggle at the question Pablo asked for the first time as well. Boys are so silly sometimes.

"Only makes me pee a lot" you say seeing his cringed face as he pulled away shaking his head.

"Don't want to know that!" he said and you both giggled while Pablo remained somewhat quiet and reserved. Why was he so suddenly in a sour mood? When Pedri left, you decided to ask him yourself grabbing his hand and moving to the secluded area.

"Que pasa contigo amor?" you ask and he just shook his head knowing that he will need to tell you the truth sooner than later.

"He touched your tummy.." Pablo said shyly and you giggled kissing his lips which of course cameras caught but you didn't mind.

"You're jealous that YOUR best friend felt YOUR son kick inside my stomach?" you ask and being put that way it was really a silly reason for jealousy but Pablo loves your tummy way too much!

"Is it annoying you that I always hold your tummy amorcito?" he asked and you shook your head kissing his cheek and grabbing his big hand before placing it back on your stomach feel the baby kick. Smile quickly returned on Pablo's face.

"Can I tell you a secret??" you say and he nods now really interested.

"Only time he doesn't kick is when he feels your hand on my tummy" you say seeing Pablo's eyes fill with tears this time and you pulled him into a hug and your stomach was touching his while baby kicked happily.

"I love you so much preciosa.." Pablo said and just in that moment baby kicked making you both giggle as Pablo leaned down and kissed your tummy.

"And you mi pequeño fútbolista" he said making you both giggle before kissing and returning to the party hand on hand with Pablo's other hand obviously on your tummy. hehe <3

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x reader #gavi x you #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavira

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ghostingcrows · 1 year

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I used to talk about this a lot but

IDW Prowl is probably one of the most complex characters in the comics and I absolutely hate it when hes reduced down to “the asshole character”

Cause like

Yeah sure hes got a bit of a stick up his ass

But I feel like people just end there analysis of him there

Has he committed a lot of war crimes and done unethical stuff

Yes

But so has literally EVERYONE else in this universe

Starscream is literally the pinnacle of war crimes

The comics make a point calling out even Optimus for his questionable actions and orders during the war with the Dinobots saying he makes them do the dirty work for him

Megatron literally commits genocide and yet his story ends with an alternate version of him going free and exploring the universe with the LL

The literal war lord was treated better and is looked upon more positively than Prowl and I think it just came down to how fucked Prowl got by the writers

Because while Megatrons redemption was all in your face and you got a shit ton of flashbacks that try to justify the eventual atrocities he would commit you don’t get that with Prowl

Even when Prowl is absolutely in the right you constantly have it disregarded by characters making jokes about him overreacting (being mad OP is sending the space tyrant away with free reign of his own ship isn’t overreacting btw-) and as such you start to think of him as a genuinely irrational character when hes not

Prowl is bad at keeping the relationships he forms yes

But he is not always at fault for that

While his relationship with CD ended poorly Chromedome is also shown to be kinda of a dick sometimes and commits his fair share of fucked up things such as when he literally ATTACKS PROWL AND FORCES HIS WAY INTO HIS MIND TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM THE CONSEQUENCE OF HIS ACTIONS WHEN PROWL THREATENS TO TELL REWIND ABOUT THE SHITTY STUFF HE DID IN HIS PAST

This leads to Prowls inevitable snowball out of control when this attack leads to an opening for Bombshell (I think its been a while since I read the comics) to use his tech to mind control him forcing him into combining with the contructicons

Something we learn is an immensely intimate thing with their minds being kinda melded

This was something Prowl did not want

And when all was said and done and he was calmed down he still had to live with that gesalt he was forced into with them following him around like fanboys

Nobody ever even really stopped to check in on him

And as such he understandable went a little bit insane

He had just faced an immensely traumatic invasion of his body and mind and on top of stress form feeling like everything was out of his control and like he couldn’t stop the bad things from happening alongside bitter emotions being brought back up with a return visit to Earth and reunion with spike AND the fact that he feels like Optimus doesn’t trust him and like hes just letting Starscream do whatever he want (something that understandably freaks him out seeing as how he spent 4 million years fighting Starscream) he just kinda snaps

He trys to destroy the space bridge so that no one else can leave or get through and so he can regain some semblance of control

Is it wrong

Yes

But he was not in a good state of mind and no one was helping him at all

And immediately following his arrest afterward Prowl is confronted by OP who is supposed to be his friend and when Prowl doesn’t say the right things to him to placate him Optimus’ response is to punch him out a window and beat the shit out of him

And not being given any room to breath this is immediately follow up my him getting kidnapped by Tarantulas who is very obviously an impactful and negative part of his past

Prowl just has bad event, one after the other, happen to him over and over again and not only does no one check up on him afterwards to see if hes okay but everyone actively makes fun of him for being understandable unstable

Prowl is a fucking tragedy and not many people seem to be able to see beyond what characters in the comics think of him

#IDW #Prowl #IDW prowl #Asher writing entire essays about the complex nature of a character most people hate-#I will defend IDW Prowl to my death #and I know a lot of people like to point fingers at him for war crimes and questionable actions #but like again almost everyone in IDW has commited a few war crimes #and he was literally the second in command of the entire army #of course he would have had to take on the brunt of the shitty questionable orders #I also think its weird that so many characters point out hes always the one ordering the shitty stuff but never wants to get his hands dirty #but then OP does the same thing and literally ONLY the dinobots point it out #optimus prime #megatron #lost light #taurantulas #starscream

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thedollhousediaries · 1 year

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The Dollhouse Diaries

Real Life In Plastic Tip #6:

ෆTime Management for Neurodivergent Girly Girls and Boujie Hyperfemmesෆ

This is the pretty girl era of having time management under control. The key is to learn how to live in the moment while also being discipline enough to move on to the next task as needed. I know that sentence was as daunting to read as it was for me to write ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა I guarantee I gotcha *Chaeyoung voice*

First Things First: Go 1 Week At a Time!! (every 3 days if an entire 7 is too much or your schedule is unpredictable, like mine)

Build a simple list of all the things you have to do and that you would like to do. Its much easier to get it all out on the table so you can donate more of your brain power to sorting things, rather than holding things.

Put all of the things listed on a calendar: Most important first things first! This means things like health appointments,work schedule, birthdays, holidays that you celebrate, classes, or anything that involves not only your time but other’s as well. Then after that put the elective things second; Nail appointments, shopping trips, dates with friends, etc. Lastly, put the things you would like to incorporate into your daily routine; We talking skincare, any hobbies you may have like drawing/painting/sculpting/reading/blogging, any form of exercise, etc.

Once the week or however much time you have scheduled out is done on your overall calendar, then its time for marrying it to your life.

Marrying your schedule: Planner apps, Physical Planner, Dry Erase Boards and Bullet Journals

Choosing your medium at keeping up with your schedule is very important. You may have to try them all before you get comfortable with something. I have tried them all and I’ve found that the main one that truly stuck with me was the app/website Notion. I like it because its fully customizable and you can use it at your own pace. Every week or every day may not be super eventful and so it drops the guilt and shameful feeling of not filling up pages every single day.

Here is what all I use and the way I use them:

Notion <3 I use it as my overall journal. I use the apps on my ipad/phone to check if I’m not home and I can use the website on my PC when I’m home and relaxing. I like it because its very versatile. Think of it as a digital journal combined with similar mechanics of tumblr. I use it for literally everything. There are a lot of videos that can show off all of the cool things Notion can be used for but this is the video that personally helped me learn it quickly

Bullet Journals <3 I have about 3 journals and I love them because I get to customize things with cute stickers and it gives very fun scrapbooking vibes. Because I use Notion as a all over planner I can use my BUJO’s for more fun and creative things. I usually use these for all of my cute ideas and things thats in my mind and aesthetic wishlists and such. Its very therapeutic to take time out to be kawaii and glamorous and just put cute thoughts on to paper! I mainly use it for kpop inputs, my fav shows, wishlists, dates and etc.

Dry erase board <3 I use this as a overall daily top important to-do list! Sometimes I dont always open my notion if I dont have anything extremely important coming up but there may be some things I need to keep on my mind to do for that day. The way my neurodivergency is set up I need to keep the most important things always in my face or I could forget everything. So, I put things on there like get a new tire, pick up order from bath & bodyworks, put clothes in the dryer, wash dishes, and etc. Daily tasks like that usually goes on my dry erase board

Remember at the end of the day dont be too hard on yourself and your schedule! Move at your own pace and always set yourself up for success. Scheduling is ideally suppose to calm you and be a tool to improve your life; not stress you out. If at any point you begin to feel overwhelmed just stop and recenter yourself and your life. I felt overwhelmed at first myself and that was because I was trying to keep up with a hyper organized and productive version of myself that I needed to give more patience to develop. Let this come organically to you and not because you are trying to keep up with what u feel everyone else is doing, or to the future self you are going to inevitably become. Happy scheduling, Dollmate!

#dollhouse dairies #doll advice #bimbydoll diaries #nuerodivergent #neurospicy #adhd #advice #pink aesthetic #soft aesthetic #journaling #bujospo #girl blogger #notion #y2k aesthetic

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highseas-swede · 7 months

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Aziraphale and Trauma

[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]

This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.

See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!

Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.

There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.

But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.

Abuse victims are often manipulative.

I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.

Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.

What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.

A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.

https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."

In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).

So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.

We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.

His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.

The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.

This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.

Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.

The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.

A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.

There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.

Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.

That brings us back to this apology scene.

There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.

Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.

Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.

These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.

I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.

#Aziraphale #Good Omens #Good Omens Meta #good omens s2 #aziraphale meta #crowley x arizaphale #CPTSD discussion

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golfishwiththebigeyes · 4 months

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long disjointed farcille thoughts

I’m so farcille-pilled and I have thoughts, mainly one thought and that is that the events of dungeon meshi have made Marcille a much more fitting partner for Falin. As much as I adore them pre-canon, I think they would not have been good together as they were before. We see in the early story Marcille is, for lack of a better term, kind of a control freak. That’s just her nature, and it makes a lot of sense given her backstory, she’s had to grapple with something out of her control from a very young age-her loved ones dying- so of course she’d be very protective over what she does have control over. This would be fine on it’s own, but Falin, especially before the events of the story, is sooo non confrontational, she’s so gentle and tries not to rock the boat, which also makes a lot of sense given her backstory! But as we see even in bonus materials, Marcille has a pretty solid trap of what she likes and what she wants, and she doesn’t usually take well to that being challenged. Falin is the opposite in every facet. While this makes them great friends, I feel like it just wouldn’t lend itself well to a romantic relationship, especially when you also factor in the fact that romance is another thing Marcille is very set in her ways about. And then Falin gets eaten.

And boom, suddenly Marcille cannot be in her comfort zone anymore, she has to eat gross things, branch out in her magic and teaching to try her best to fill Falin’s place, and, most damning of all, ultimately give up a power that would let her enforce what she thinks is best with no issue. Marcille’s arc, or one of her big ones, is about coming to terms with things being out of her control and learning to just appreciate being alive, worrying more about making the most of what’s left instead of desperately chasing what could be.

And while the crux of this post was why the events of the story make Marcille a much better partner for Falin than she would have been otherwise, Falin’s character and development (which, by the way, Ryoko Kui you genius how could you so brilliantly give an entire arc to a character who is comparatively not very present in the story, augh Falin’s haunting of the narrative is so good and Falin herself is written so beautifully) by the end of the story are very good for the possible future Farcille. As more and more information has come out, like Falin’s post-canon talk with Toshiro, we see that Falin’s second resurrection has given her a new kind of confidence and security about herself and her place in the world. In everything from her eyes being open to the clothes that she chooses to her body language, in all the post-canon material we can see so clearly that she is so much happier and genuine with herself, mask off, and that in and of itself is so wonderful. And that, by extension, allows her to be a much more open partner and in a much better space to be in a long term relationship.

The events of the story, a story which stresses the validity of desire and potential, have allowed these two women who adore each other to fulfill their true potential both apart and together, and that’s wonderful to me.

#delicious in dungeon #farcille #dungeon meshi

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runningmunson · 2 years

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My Fierce Lady - Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: After the events of your attack, you felt helpless. You asked Aemond to teach you to fight so you can gain some control back into your life and finally feel brave. Part 2 of My Fierce Lady. Warnings: traumatized reader, mentions of previous attack, use of a sword, slight angst, fluff, soft Aemond

Masterlist

Agony. You were in agony. Everything had been so different since you were attacked and forced to take a man’s life. Anyone would change if it had happened to them, you believed. Aemond reminded you daily that you are strong and brave, that you and your children were still alive and breathing, and that the man was in the ground where he belonged because of you. Yet you still lived in fear every day, terrified that someone would strike again, but you wouldn’t be so lucky.

That’s not to say that your husband and his family didn't try to make you feel safe. Your personal guards had been doubled. You were seldom left alone. You wouldn't step into your chambers, so they allowed you to move rooms. They exhausted resources to find whoever plotted to attack the Targaryen household. However, their attempts were futile. They never found who did it, and no matter what they did, you never truly felt safe.

Nightmares often plagued you. Too many nights you dreamed of Maelehra being murdered. You soon followed, only to be woken screaming and crying in the arms of Aemond as he tried to calm you. Your stress and anxiety were so severe that the maester put you on bed rest until the birth of your son.

You thought things would be better after you brought your son, Rhaegar, into the world, basking in the joys of a newborn, a male heir for your husband. You were sorely mistaken. The maester chalked it up to melancholy as your body adjusted to a new state of motherhood. The royal family tried to keep it hidden. Everything was always kept in the family, never wanted to reveal their personal weaknesses to outsiders. But it was hard to ignore the whispers around the Red Keep with rumors of you going crazy and behaving worse than your sister-in-law, Helaena.

You spent a lot of time with Helaena in her chambers, doing needlework as your children played on the floor together with the nannies. Rhaegar was usually fast asleep in his cradle. You had a feeling your mother-in-law, the Queen, had something to do with your time spent behind closed doors, not that you minded too much. You dearly loved Helaena and preferred her company over the other ladies in court.

—

For once, you were having a good day. Your anxiety was at bay and manageable. The children were behaving excellently. You knew everyone was safe, and you finally settled in once you checked several times that there were two guards outside the door.

“That looks quite lovely, sister! You stitch our sigil far better than I could,” Helaena’s eyes were wide as she smiled brightly, complimenting your work. You were working on embroidering the Targaryen sigil on a new dress for Mae.

“That is very kind of you to say. Your spider looks exquisite,” you smiled back at her. You genuinely meant it. While you did not share the same affinity for insects, you were always enthusiastic about her interests and ready to learn.

“Thank you, it’s a zebra spider. We have these in our garden,” she replied, then returned to her work.

It was relatively quiet in the room, with an occasional sound coming from the children. All your focus was on the dress until your concentration was broken. The door opened without anyone knocking, and an unknown man stepped inside the room.

You immediately stood up, a scream slipped from your lips. It startled your son awake, and he started crying. Your heart was racing, and you felt as if you could be sick. No, you thought, this cannot be happening again. As quick as you stood, you backed into a corner. You sat down with your hands over your ears and eyes tightly squeezed shut.

Helaena shooed the man out of the room and told the nannies to remove the children. She slowly approached you, afraid to disturb you even more. You could see her mouth moving but heard no sound. The only thing you could hear was ringing. Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned to the guards and demanded they go get her brother at once.

Aemond made his way to his sister’s chambers in record time. “I am so sorry, Aemond. It was a new servant, he didn't knock first.”

“It’s fine, Helaena.” He looked at you, seeing you in a catatonic-like state. Your hands had not moved from their spot on your head, but your eyes were now wide open, blankly staring at the wall. It made him angry to see you as a shell of what you once were, no longer the carefree and lively woman he fell in love with. He turned to his sister, “May you give us some space please?”

Helaena left the room, and Aemond made his way to you. He crouched down, blocking your vision of the wall. Your eyes finally focused when you saw your husband in front of you and not another stranger coming to kill you. He reached up to take your hands off your face, noticing the scratch marks your nails left behind. With your hands in his, he gently kissed the back of both.

“I’m here now, love. I got you. You are safe. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he spoke in a soft, calming voice- one reserved for only you and your children. The words he spoke were familiar as he often said these like a mantra in the dark of your room after your nightmares. You threw yourself in his arms, catching him off guard as he almost fell. He steadied himself and pulled you in close, once more repeating those words.

When your heart was steady and mind clear, he pulled you up to the ground and led you to the comforts of your own chamber. As soon as the door was shut, you turned to him.

“I cannot do this any longer,” you said to him, voice cracking in desperation.

“Do what, my dear?” he questioned.

“Live in fear, no longer feeling safe in my own home. I wish to be free of this anguish! I want to feel as brave as you say I am. I want you to teach me how to fight,” you said to him. It was something you had thought about for some time but too afraid to address until now.

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly.

You knew it was unbecoming of a lady such as yourself to fight, but you were at a complete loss at what to do. It wasn’t as if Aemond thought that of you though. He always believed you could do anything you wanted. He never tried to control you or put you in your place unlike the other men of the court. Fighting could be dangerous, and he just wanted to protect you.

“Please, Aemond. I need this. If you love me, you will grant me this wish,” you begged him, grabbing his hands and looking into his eye. You needed nothing more than to gain back some control of your life.

He nodded his head, “Then I will do just that, I promise you.”

—

Aemond led you to an empty room in the castle. You were adorned in pants and a tunic, your hair in a single braid falling down your back. He was finally going to teach you how to fight with a sword.

When you made your way into the room, he shut the door behind you for privacy. You noticed a few weapons were already laid on a table. There was a dummy filled with sand in the middle of the room as well.

“Now, today we will learn the basics of defense, just a simple thrust and slice. Let’s go pick you a sword,” he walked over to the table. and you followed. You knew how heavy swords could be, having handled Aemond’s sword once to see what it was like and almost dropped it in the process.

He handed you several, having you do a few mock swings to see which one felt best in your hands. You picked a lighter sword, the blade a typical silver color with a black and red hilt. The pommel housed a blue jewel. How fitting, you thought when you noticed it was similar in color to the sapphire where your husband’s eye once was.

When you were satisfied with your choice, you made your way to the middle of the room where Aemond was waiting. With the sword placed tightly in your hand, he led you into the proper stance. He used his leg to move your feet where he wanted them. His back found its way flush against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist to straighten you out. The other helped you hold your sword to the correct height, pointing to where you needed to strike. Whiffs of your scent flooded his nose as he held you close. You were disappointed when he pulled away.

“Alright, keep that stance. This should be an easy one. Draw your arm back and simply thrust it forward,” he said, his hands placed firmly behind your back. He was intensely watching your every move, making you a bit nervous. You drew back the sword and plunged it into the chest of the dummy. When you removed the sword, sand spilled on the ground.

“Good, you have just defended yourself. Now put yourself back into the same position, and I’ll show you how to slice,” he explained the movements once more and let you do your thing.

You stood the way he told you, doing a spin to gain momentum before slicing either side of the dummy. Once more, sand flowed from the cuts. Aemond started clapping. You turned to smile at him, finally starting to feel a small amount of control for the first time since your attack.

“My, oh my. Who knew the Gods blessed me with a wife who is a natural in the art of the sword,” he smiled, looking proud.

You laughed, “ Well, I have watched you practice in the courtyard often, my dear husband. Maybe I can be as good as you one day.”

“I’ll make a fighter out of you in no time, my fierce lady.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff

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the melting point {chapter 19}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: Time passes and heals a lot of things, while others are discussed as the wedding gets closer. Frankie sees the stress weighing down on you amid it all and plans something special…

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: hurt and comfort, fluff, light angst, reader has trauma similar to the triple frontier guys, reader is described as having tattoos for plot points, reader is partially handicapped, reader has mobility issues, adult content, adult content, smut, p in v smut, oral (m recieving), the whole gang is here, plus oc inserts, serious conversations, alcohol consumption, alcohol, mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. that seems to be it, but let me know if i've missed anything!

A/N: as we see this penultimate chapter, i just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who read, liked, commented, and shared this fic that holds a special place in my heart ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“We’re going on a trip. Cleared it with your doctors and ensured them we would keep up with your stretches and daily mobility exercises. Does…does that sound okay?” Frankie is making dinner, busy at the stove as he stirs the contents of one pot and keeps an eye on the other. Simple, today, after you had gone to work a shift at the bakery, and he had been in the air since before the sun rose. Lex was in the living room doing her homework, the tv on but muted to allow her to work easier.

You were at the table, having set it up for the meal and now on your laptop answering emails. You look at him over the top of the screen, about to question him when Lex trots in and all but shoves herself into your lap and puts a piece of paper down across your keyboard.

“Mama Pastel, I don’t understand this.”

“Is this your way of asking for help?”

“Alexia, manners, please. Did you ask Pastel if you could sit in her lap, her legs are still very tender sometimes.”

“Yes, papa.” She barely resists the urge to roll the very same eyes peering over at her. She turns to you with a smile so sweet your heart melts. You wrap an arm around her, holding her in place as you shift your legs to hold her weight more evenly. “Mama Pastel, can you please help me with this, it’s fractions. Also, your legs can hold me, right? I…I feel like I need to be close to someone right now.”

“Of course, mija, my legs are always strong enough to hold you. Fractions are no fun, huh?” You smile over at her father, something he catches before he turns back to finish dinner as you lean down to rest your chin over her little shoulder. The soft murmuring of you helping her with the page fills the room, and it’s enough to make you yearn for everyday to be this easy.

But just last week, Frankie had had a rather alarming nightmare, his mind replaying the events of his hearing. He had woken up in a sweat, frantically wiping at his face to rid himself of the white powder he had been indulging in right in front of the judge. You hadn’t been in bed, which further spiked his overwhelming panic. Searching through the whole house to find you sat behind the wheel of your truck, hands tight on the steering wheel as you bowed you head and sobbed. You had a nightmare of your own, dreaming of driving and loosing the feeling in your legs and crashing. You hadn’t said anything other than that, but Frankie read between the lines. You were afraid of hurting them, of causing them injury with the potential for your limbs to suddenly be numb to your control.

“What are we having for desert?” Lex asks as Frankie announces dinner is ready, turning off the stove tops.

“Little Pastel, that’s what you’re turning into.” Frankie pins her with a raised eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours behind her as he settles the pots in the middle of the table on trivets.

His lips are twitching as he tries to tame a fond smile in order to chastely parent. Though you can see right through him, worry and love for his daughter outshining the reminder to be kind and respectful because he knows it’s a reminder that she’s comfortable around you enough to push into your space and seek you out in the ways that she has been. It’s been a little better since she returned to school, feeling more like herself and doing better in crowds. She had even asked to go on the winter fieldtrip, a weeklong thing at a conservation center down South toward the coastline. You had both agreed it would be good for her, even more so since she seemed so excited. But needed her therapist to sign off in the idea before a decision was made.

“Better than little Catfish!” She fired back loudly with giggles that only increased in volume as you tickled her sides and asked her what was so wrong with being like her daddy.

“He’s so good to us, we should both wanna be more like him, I think.” She squeals as she fidgets in your hold, trying not to lose her balance still in your lap. But you don’t let her fall, you wouldn’t dare. You look up at him and offer him a bright smile he can’t help but reflect back before he says to dig in before the food gets cold.

“Thank you,” You wound your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him as his hands helped to guide you into a comfortable position against him. Nestled in between his outstretched legs, you pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. You moved to do so to the other side, but he dipped down and captured your lips fully with his own. You had been doting over wedding plans when he had found you in bed, papers and brochures and an open laptop scattered all around you.

“No need to thank me, sweet girl. Want you to be comfortable. You okay with this, not too much pressure on your hips?” His hands were light on you, helping to support you as you stood on your knees over him. But you didn’t answer him with words, instead you planted yourself right over his lap, grinding down on him. The deep groan he graced you with was swallowed by your willing mouth, tongue lapping at his lips to catch the lingering taste of something sweet he had eaten.

“Q-querida, we- you sure this is okay?” Despite his cock stirring in his boxer briefs, his worry for you softened your heart further and you felt adoration for the man beneath you fill your chest with a jittery feeling. You had been lingering, staying up late to greet him after his double, triple flight tour day. It had been marked on the communal whiteboard in the kitchen for weeks now, a reminder that he was still the only one working.

“Frankie, I need you. It’s been so long.” You’re suddenly desperate, having been alone all day. Caring for and totting Lex to and from school, making dinner with her, getting her bathed and settled into bed with a fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer and a bedtime story. You longed for the days to feel just like that, the shadow of Frankie all around the house, in her smile, her laugh, her sparkling brown eyes. Her love for you as strong as the love you had for him and for her in return. The ease of domesticity stirring something in you, making you feel like your skin was too tight and Frankie was the only one who could help abate it.

“I-I want to…”

“Just, let me sit on it. Please, carino, I need to feel you inside me.” You can’t help the whine of your voice, the scent of him fresh from the shower and dressed only in his underwear laid across the bed too much of a temptation.

“Fuck, you can have anything you want, just want you to be comfortable.”

“I will be, once your cock is nestled as deep as it can go, filling me up, stretching me. God, Fransisco, your cock is so beautiful, so thick and hard, and perfect. You’re perfect to me, for me. I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.” You panted against his lips, kisses smothering the words into his skin, his lips, his scruff, the column of his neck. Hands trailing down and releasing him from the fabric.

“Dios mio, mija, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

“Let me show you what kinda mouth I’ve got.” You push down further to rest over his shins, hips hinged as you lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his weeping head. His hips stutter up, chasing the feeling of your warm breath as you pull back to relieve yourself of his large shirt you had stolen before settling in bed to wait for him.

It’s slow, despite your desperation for the man you loved, the way you take him fully into your mouth and lave at the velvet hardness of his cock with your tongue. Taking him as deep as you could before bobbing your head at a savoring pace. His thick fingers tangle into your hair, gathering it into a mockery of a ponytail to better see your face.

Hallowing your cheeks, you look up at him through your lashes and groan around him at the wreckage you’ve caused. His mouth is hanging open, plush lips wetted by his tongue and puffy from your barrage of kisses. Beautiful eyes blown wide as he takes in the image you create between his legs, blush high on his cheeks as he feels the slight scrape of your teeth along his length. He’s still so warm from his shower, smelling of his woodsy and homey soap. But he chokes on his next breath as you dive down, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you close your eyes to revel in the feeling of him thick and hard in your mouth.

“Get up here,” He moans out, hands letting your hair fall from its loose hold. You readily pull your mouth from him, making sure to lick a firm strike up from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip before moving up to straddle his waist. He shimmies from his underwear completely, shucking them to crumple at the end of the bed along with all the paperwork you had hastily piled together.

His cock nudges against your inner thighs and you take him in a gentle hand to line him up properly while he latches a mouth around your breasts, free from the flimsy camisole you had on just seconds ago. He bites down on the hardened peak as you sink down, slick arousal making it easy for him to stretch you. A wonton moan at the feel of him after so long catches as he grazes that soft, spongy spot at the perfect angle and your hips rock forward suddenly. His hands wrap around your ribs, grounding you, keeping you upright even as you arch at finally sitting flush, hips to hips after what had been nearly six months of being cautious and careful. Nearly six months of waiting and pleasuring each other in other ways.

“I’ve got ya, sweet girl. Just take your time, we’ve got all the time in the world for you to feel good.” He rumbles, voice gravel as he presses kisses all along your neck and chest, nipping at the soft weight of your chest, your lips, your cheeks. Everywhere he could to sooth you while you adjusted to feeling so full once again. “Gonna make you feel good for the rest of our lives, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” You stutter out, lifting up slightly before sliding back down his length with an obscenely wet sound. His lips capture yours and you hook your arms around his neck, beginning to move against him to spark pleasure across both your bodies.

It was winter, the new year just having passed, Alexia sent off on her fieldtrip, leaving you and Frankie to each other for the entire week.

Open road is stretched in front of you, the tires below you moving quickly and devouring it as quickly as Frankie would allow. You were busy in the passenger seat, one of his hands on firmly on the wheel while the other moved the piece of paper in your hand to get a better glimpse at it over his dark aviators.

“I think we should keep it small, even if the city has rallied to help us.”

“Yeah, I don’t want a huge thing, its already going to be in the paper. An article in the magazine.”

“We can ask them to not do that, if you really want.” He smoothly drifts into the fast lane to pass a slower work truck laden down with a trailer full of yard work machinery, shifting back into the slow lane as soon as he’s passed them and had enough room to safely do so before he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The flowers, the venue, the caterers, the photographer, everyone one of the local businesses had offered to either donate their services or severely discount you for the event. Wanting to make sure you both had everything you needed or wanted for the momentous day.

It had honestly shocked you, when you discovered just how much the people around the city appreciated your efforts during that fateful last day of the farmer’s market. Offering your shop to those seeking shelter in the chaos, the people you had stopped to help if they were bleeding or limping from the rushing crowds as you searched for your own people amidst it all.

“No, I think…I think it’s nice to have some good publicity for the bakery.”

“Did…did you pick out a date you wanted?” You paused, looking out the window as you felt your heartrate pick up and your nerves spark to life. It was beyond sappy, you realized, but the particular date you had in mind seemed to work out perfectly with all the vendors, with family needing to fly in or travel, with a break for there to be coverage at the bakery and Lex’s school out for the summer…

“I wanted to pick one that meant something to both of us so…I was wondering if the date we first met was okay with you?”

“Sweet girl, that’s…that’s perfect. I was thinking it but didn’t want to influence the decision if you already had your heart set on something.” His hand curled tighter over your thigh, dull fingernails making light marks in your skin.

He helps you out of the truck at the next gas stop. His hands strong around your waist as he makes sure you have both feet on the ground and your cane in hand before he dips to kiss you cheek and lets you loose to make your way into the building. The giggle bursting from your lips and the slight float to the skirt of your dress has him feeling warmth bloom in his chest as he makes sure you have no trouble along the small distance. Someone is exiting just as you approach the door and they do a double take at the sight of your tattoos on display and the flattering form of the dress over your skin, holding the door open for you and saying something you seem to reciprocate.

Frankie busies himself with hooking the gas pump into the tank’s opening and looks up to watch you amble through the store through the wide windows, the guy who held the door open doing on the other side of the pump. You’re slow in your movements around the few aisles, taking in all of the sweet and savory options. But you make sure to grab a dr. pepper and a cherry coke. Mini powdered donuts make their way into your hand holding the drinks to your chest before you approach the checkout.

“She’s a looker, man, good on you.” Comes from the other side of the pump before a vehicle takes off.

“Frankie! I got snackies!” You hold up a plastic bag the second you’re back out the door, shaking it slightly before grimacing and halting the movement, realizing it would make the drinks fizz up. “Oops, my bad.”

“Sweet girl, what did you get us to munch on? We’re only about half an hour out at this point.”

“And where is it we’re going again?”

“Nice try, querida, but it’s a secret. I think you’ll really like it.” He pressed the tip of his index finger to your nose as you enter his orbit. Hand moving to take the cane from you and place it in the truck exactly where you preferred it. It was a beautiful thing, sleek carved wood stained a dark, espresso brown. The hand coated in silver cast to look like blooming flowers to ensure your grip is secure and travel down a few inches. The tip of it capped with rigged silver as well to help with steadying your uneven right side.

He takes the bag from you next, setting it down in the middle of the bench seat, the center console pushed up to create more room for you to cross your legs while you went over stuff. It wasn’t the best position for you to be sitting in for long hours, but you argued it was one of the few ways that brought relief sometimes so he let you do what you thought was best. He had put his foot down and gotten stern with you though, saying that if he noticed it was doing more harm than good that he was going to ask you to try and sit another way.

Truth be told, Frankie would carry you for the rest of your live if you would allow him to. Should you need to be off your feet altogether. A custom wheelchair having been ordered to replace the generic one the insurance company had covered for immediate use after your surgeries. It had been a long conversation, one in which both of you had shed tears during. But the agreement was that it would be stored in the downstairs closet and brought out for longer trips, hospital visits that would take more than a quick pop in and out to ensure no uncomfortable and hard waiting room chairs caused harm, and days where the errands piled up.

While you were recovered from the surgeries and dealing with the trauma of what happened, your legs worked as well as they could. Though the already replaced right one tended to go numb at random intervals the doctors could only explain as part of a degenerative disease that had probably been undiagnosed before the first shooting. The left often got a tingling sensation, sciatic nerve sensitive on both sides making it hard for you to get out and about some days.

Working full time had been another conversation, safety rails installed with the help of the guys all around the house should you be home alone. The showers in the two bathrooms you used were set to be remodeled with ledges for you to set on should you want to, the tubs to be replaced with shower stalls and a fancy tub of your choosing to be put in the master one attached to yours and Frankie’s room.

He worried about the stairs, something that took a longer conversation in which you admitted to feeling like you were flipping his whole life upside down and ruining the home he had carefully curated for him and his daughter. His solution had been as simple as breathing, as loving you: turn the guest room and laundry room into a new downstairs master, expand the kitchen to accommodate the laundry room equipment. The money it would take had caused you to break down, even if Frankie hadn’t batted an eye at the arguably large sum it would require.

Will and Benny had argued that two cousins of theirs that resided in Texas was more than willing to make the trip to oversee the project. They had readily agreed to absolve the labor and graciously discount the materials as long as their flights were covered, and they had a place to stay as for the duration.

You had briefly talked with Joel about it, equal parts meek and steadfast on certain aspects of the project. Insistent that they would be able to stay in the apartment above the bakery. You had promised you didn’t want to be difficult, but the man’s deep twangy voice had assured you that you had every right to be since it was for your comfort.

Trees got thicker on either side of the winding road as the elevation hiked up. Deep in a forest of some part of the northern portion of the state. Somewhere you had no idea of, the GPS on the truck shut off and Frankie leading the vehicle with just the inner workings of his mind. The truck was moved into second gear and the engine rumbled loudly as Frankie continued to drive. He had shut off the radio to concentrate, something you did often as you drove to new places for the first time. A pleased smile pulling at your lips as you discovered things about him that you shared.

Turning off the paved road, the tires crunched over a gravel one as he continued on. You were leaning out of your seat to try and better see the glimpse of bright blue off aways between the trees.

“Almost there, sweet girl.”

“Frankie, what in the world did you plan?”

He just chuckled, jostling your thigh in his grip before removing it. You were about to turn to him when you heard the hum of conversation and laughter through the open window. The gentle splash of water trickling in the background as he rounded one last curve and began to pull up the drive of an impressive looking cabin. It was all dark tones with neutral accents in the form of a large patio that shifted into a deck, stretching out onto a decent sized lake. The water sparkling in the sunshine and temporarily stunning you.

“About time, Fish! Mante, watch this!” Benny hollered as he ran down the length of the deck that jutted out into the water and leapt from the edge of it. Balling up, he made a spectacular splash into the pristine water, causing it to splatter all over the girls lounging on the bank. Morgan and Luciana only laughed as Benny bobbed up to the surface, wiping the water from their skin and turning to wave at you from their spots. Will and Santiago were over by the grill, trading laden down plates with of cooked and raw items from a long wooden picnic table set up right in the middle of the covered part of the deck that doubled as a large patio off the side of the cabin.

“Figured the water would feel good on your hip. Got you a set of trekking poles if you want to hike, but there’s also plenty for us to do around the cabin if you don’t feel like it. Whatever you wanna do, sweet girl.”

“Don’t be hoggin’ the woman, primo.” Santiago sidles up to the passenger door, leaving Will to handle the grill on his own. His sunglasses pushed up into his hair as he reached through the open window to brush an errant wave of hair away from your face and behind your ear. You feel warmth blossom in your chest at the endearing move, grateful for the man that he was and the part he had become in your life even if it had been more than bumpy since meeting him. “Let’s get the week started! C’mon, Fish can unload the truck. I’ve got your favorite beer in the cooler waiting for you, hermosa.”

Before you move through the door Santiago opens for you, you lean over and take Frankie’s face in both your hands to kiss him deeply. Your hands trail down the thickness of his neck to rest atop his shoulders as you scoot across the long bench of the front seat, the center console pushed up. You hook your arms around them to scoot closer to him, pressed your chest flush with his. Tongue licking into his mouth, you sneak your hands into the back of his shirt dip them below his belt and grope at skin beneath. Hoots and hollers rang around the open space hidden in the trees, making your heart soar to be around so many friends, around Frankie.

He seems a little star stuck as you scoot out and walk arm in arm with his best friend toward the hub and bub of the deck, taking a moment before he pushes himself from his won seat behind the wheel and follows suit with a shining grin.

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astrojulia · 10 months

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PAC - How to improve your sleep

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DISCLAIMER. These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purpose.

How to pick a pile

The pick a pile order is Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3. When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise!

Pile 1 - Cinnamoroll

(King of Pentacles - Temperance - Six of Swords - The Lovers - Five of Swords)

Your nocturnal habits are the ones you love the most in your entire day. You naturally love to sleep and have recently added ways to improve your nighttime ritual, such as skincare, reading a book, meditating, and taking a nice shower… anyway. We can say that sleeping is even your hobby.

Are you feeling disconnected with your sleep because sleeping is something to be calm and natural? You can't force it (I'm not talking about drugs, okay), and the lack of control stresses you out a bit. You love to sleep, but you're the type of person who takes a long time to fall asleep and would like it to be faster, but unfortunately, it is not possible.

To improve your sleep, let's remove what's disturbing you on the way – which is the cell phone and electronic things... It's no use doing a ritual that, in the end, you'll spend 2 hours on a cell phone screen. The basics are useful for a reason...

"But you don’t understand…" Yes, I understand that you must be talking to your crush/boyfriend before bed, or you keep thinking about her for hours and creating scenarios in your head. Okay, do it with your eyes closed and in the dark; sleep is VERY necessary for our life as a whole. You need to know that the next day that person will still be there. You are responsible for the events in your life; do not allow other people or unexpected situations to influence your decisions.

Herbs you can use to help with your nightly ritual: Orange and Onion.

Pile 2 - Pompompurin

(Queen of Pentacles - Six of Cups - Seven of Swords - High Priestess - Seven of Wands)

Sleeping is something refreshing for you, but you can't do it 100% because this struggle is for parents of children (so yes… if you are not a parent, it will be difficult for you to identify, please choose another struggle). You're a person who benefits a lot from sleeping, who enjoys doing it, but you've been a light sleeper for a long time because you need to be constantly aware of your surroundings, checking if someone else is okay.

The reason for your difficulty sleeping is clear: children… You're either watching over them, or when you finally fall asleep, someone wakes you up to attend to something. This gradually undermines good sleep, and there isn't much to do about it.

What I can give you as tips now is to make a “tent/fort” for the children to sleep inside (I don't know how to write it, but that would be it). Also, take advantage of the naps that the children take during the day to get some rest yourself. Remember, “ah, but what about the house?" – Well, look, you're sleepy, and the mess will still be there when you wake up. Prioritize rest.

The feeling that may be undermining you is that with each decision, you ask yourself if you are being a good mother/father. You know… you will be criticized by everyone, by people outside, and even by your own children when they grow up. No one will understand your efforts, but you can, so you need to create more confidence in the whole process you are going through and stop second-guessing every decision you make. Energies need to be renewed, cycles close for others to begin, with vigor and vitality. Accept with gratitude the changes that the Universe proposes.

Herbs You Can Use to Help with Your Nightly Ritual: Fennel and Pomegranate.

Pile 3 - Pochacco

(Strength - Three of Swords - Two of Pentacles - Knight of Cups - Two of Wands)

Your sleep is complicated because your body wants to rest, but your mind is racing. You don't stop thinking; your reasoning is quick and very useful in everyday life, but not at bedtime. You are also a person who is more disconnected from your own body; you can be tired mentally but not physically, and vice versa, and this interferes with your bedtime. It seems that when you put some effort into creating a sleeping habit, it doesn't work.

We also can't erase the sentimental part that disturbs your sleep; all the feelings you had during the day are processed at night. Memories of the past cause tightness in the chest, a storm in the mind, thinking about what you could have done, crying, and creating new arguments in your mind. Often, you sleep because you are mentally exhausted.

What can really help you is to put all your plans that you think about at bedtime on a scale to know which ones are just delusions before going to sleep, and what can work out. Do a real planning of the things you can or cannot do to put everything into practice. You are a mental person, and you think a lot, but you are also a procrastinator. You will sleep much better knowing that you did all your responsibilities that day. You can do it!!

Now entering a more intimate part, many of the negative feelings that you have before bedtime are the feeling of rejection and exclusion, of people not accepting your feelings and your most intimate needs. That is why you feel that people do not accept who you really are. This most intimate part needs to be resolved, and it will be resolved when you leave things behind – all the past where you were rejected – and try once again with passion to live your life being yourself. Passion arrives to ward off fears and warm the heart with an extra dose of enthusiasm. The act of falling in love brings motivation and freshness to life, whether for someone, for yourself, or for something new that begins.

Herbs you can use to help with your nightly ritual: Snake plant and Mugwort.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#astrojulia #astrology #witchblr #astroblr #astro community #witch community #all about tarot #divination #tarot reading #free reading #tarot witch #tarot readers of tumblr #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading

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tatumrileyslover · 9 months

Text

Redemption

Sequel to Solace

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Hurt again, angst, some fluff

Warnings: violence, stabbing, character death

Word Count: 7.4k

Authors Note: thanks so much for all the patience you’ve shown me, I’m been very stressed these past few days with uni quickly approaching I’ve had no time to write, if you like this, I might make a third part about the final act. Hope you all enjoy

As (Y/n) lay quietly by Tara's side, her heart weighed heavy with guilt and love, as she gently caressed Tara's hair, trying to be a source of comfort in the dimly lit hospital room. Her fingers moved with tender care, tracing soothing patterns as she whispered words of reassurance. The events of the night replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, the fight they had before the attack now etched in her memory, making her ache with regret. She knew there was no way she could have predicted what would happen, but the guilt gnawed at her nonetheless.

Tara's eyes struggled to stay open, the exhaustion from the ordeal pulling her into a dreamless slumber. Her body was weak, but the warmth of (Y/n)'s touch gave her a sense of solace amid the chaos. The room remained enveloped in a profound silence, broken only by the faint hum of hospital equipment, and the gentle symphony of Tara's quiet breaths. (Y/n)'s heart swelled with love, vowing never to leave Tara's side again. She had come so close to losing the person she cherished most, and the fear of that loss had shaken her to her core.

The tranquility of the hospital room was shattered by the sound of frantic footsteps racing toward the door. Tara's heart pounded, her body tensing in anticipation. Despite the pain that shot through her as she attempted to sit up, she refused to remain vulnerable and defenseless. Beside her, (Y/n) held her hand tightly, her expression a mix of worry and determination.

The door swung open, and their friends burst into the room, a rush of relief and concern on their faces. (Y/n) stayed by Tara's side, never letting go of her hand, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Wes stood at the foot of the bed, trying to sound confident in an attempt to reassure Tara that everything was under control.

"Don't worry, Tara. My mom's got everything under control," Wes said, his voice trying to sound reassuring, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "She's conducting interviews, and there's a curfew in place to keep everyone safe."

Chad chimed in with his own contribution, his tone tinged with sarcasm, "Yeah, Sheriff Hicks even interviewed me. Amber here thought I was the killer because of some football bruises!"

Amber raised her arms defensively, "I was just stating the facts. It's always someone you know, right?"

(Y/n) sighed loudly, interrupting the argument, her frustration evident. "Guys, seriously! This is the last thing Tara needs right now. If you're going to argue about petty things, just leave!"

The group fell into an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't last long. Mindy spoke up, her words laced with suspicion, "If we're going by Stab rules, how do we know it's not the love interest? I mean, isn't that what always happens?"

(Y/n)'s glare could have cut through steel, feeling hurt and betrayed that one of her closest friends could suggest such a thing. Tara squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort and assurance. "It couldn't have been her," Tara said, her voice soft but firm. "(Y/n) was texting me the entire time. She scared off the killer before they..." Her voice trailed off as the memories of the terrifying ordeal washed over her, the pain and fear still fresh in her mind.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, her guilt gnawing at her. She knew she couldn't have arrived any earlier, but she still blamed herself for not being there to protect Tara. "I feel guilty enough for not being there in the first place," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, can we talk about something else?"

As Chad tried to change the topic, the door to the room burst open once again, revealing a familiar face. Everyone stood on defence only to see Tara's sister Sam, she had changed a lot since (Y/n) had seen her last, her eyes were more sunken in, she had lost all the baby fat on her cheeks, but she had looked much healthier. (Y/n) could see the look of longing and relief that had rushed over Sams face seeing her sister, all beat up in the hospital bed.

"Sam?"

As the door swung open, the occupants of the room stood up abruptly, shock and surprise etched across their faces. Amber's expression seemed to hold a mixture of disdain and disbelief. It was no secret that Amber harbored resentment toward Sam for leaving her family abruptly, and (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling that there was a hidden reason behind it all, something she couldn't quite fathom.

"You came?" Tara's voice was almost a whisper, carrying a mix of astonishment and emotion. Tara's eyes raked over Sam's features, as if trying to take in every detail she had missed during their time apart. In that moment, the absence of their mother, who had yet to visit, seemed insignificant. Sam was here, (Y/n) was here, and Tara was not alone anymore. "Of course I came. This is my boyfriend, Richie."

Richie offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, and I'm sorry if I'm intruding." Tara managed a small grin, finding Sam's newfound openness endearing. She replied, "It's nice to meet you too." Richie seemed a bit awkward, almost hovering by the door, a stance that (Y/n) understood – he was an outsider in a situation fraught with tension. Sam went around the room, exchanging hugs with the friends who had become like family to Tara. She turned back to Richie, who appeared even more nervous now. A soft smile played on her lips. "These are Chad and Mindy, the twins, and Wes. I used to babysit them all."

(Y/n)'s gaze shifted to Richie, who seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with the string on his backpack. An odd intuition nudged her, suggesting something was off about him, but she dismissed it as her own apprehension. Sam's call to her name brought her back to reality. "And (Y/n)'s been friends with Tara for as long as I can remember!" (Y/n) offered a smile, her grip on Tara's hand tightening briefly. "Girlfriend now, actually," she said, emphasizing the change in their relationship status. Tara's smile echoed the sentiment.

Sam's attention shifted to Amber, who stood opposite (Y/n) near Tara's bedside. She greeted her, only to receive a reluctant response. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Richie had only introduced himself back to Amber. Odd, she thought. The conversation turned to their absent mother, and Sam's inquiry highlighted her noticeable absence. Tara began to explain, "She's stuck at a conference in London, she called me earlier-"

Amber, ever the blunt one, cut her off, a clear note of resentment in her voice. "For all of ten minutes." Tara's gaze dropped to her lap, struggling to hold back her tears. The impact of Amber's words resonated through the room, prompting Amber to change the subject hastily. "Look, guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should just give her some space?"

The room seemed to agree in unison, with everyone beginning to leave. Tara's words, however, halted Sam. "Not you, Sam. I want you to stay." Sam's surprise was evident, but she nodded, her eyes welling up with gratitude. (Y/n) remained rooted by Tara's side, determined not to leave her.

"If it's okay with you, I can sleep here tonight?" Sam's voice was gentle, filled with the understanding that she was walking on fragile ground. Tara offered a smile, her heart warmed by her sister's presence. "I'd really like that."

(Y/n) reached out and took Sam's hand, offering her a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're here, Sam."

A soft shuffle drew their attention to Amber, who was still in the room. Leaning down to Tara's side, she whispered, "Do you have your extra inhaler?" Tara reassured her, and Amber left, with Richie following suit, his unease palpable.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/n) turned her attention back to Tara, her grip on Sam's hand not loosening.

Looking back to the sisters, (Y/n) noticed the intense exchange of looks between them, a telltale sign that a very private moment was about to unfold. As Tara's body trembled, (Y/n) instinctively moved closer, her presence offering a silent promise of comfort and support.

Tara's emotions began to well up, and (Y/n) could tell she was on the brink of tears. With a gentle shift, she positioned herself closer to Tara, her arm finding a reassuring place atop Tara's intertwined hands. The sisters seemed to exist in their own world, yet (Y/n)'s presence was a steady anchor, a reminder that they were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

"Sam, I was so scared," Tara's voice quivered, the vulnerability in her tone exposing the depth of her feelings. Sam immediately slipped into her role as the older sister, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from Tara's face and holding her close. (Y/n)'s touch provided an additional layer of comfort, a subtle gesture of solidarity that only she and Sam could offer.

"I know," Sam's voice was a soothing balm, a simple affirmation that carried the weight of understanding.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as the door to the hospital room closed with a soft click, momentarily rousing her from a light slumber. Her gaze scanned the room, searching for any signs of movement or activity. The absence of Sam's presence in the chair next to Tara's bedside was noticeable, but (Y/n) assumed she had stepped out briefly, perhaps for a bathroom break. She allowed her eyes to drift shut again, intent on drifting back into a peaceful doze.

However, her tranquility was shattered like fragile glass when a quiet scream sliced through the air, instantly jolting her into a state of wide-eyed alertness. Her heart raced, and her body tensed as she sat up in bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to her senses. Her gaze honed in on the corner of the room, where Richie was seated, his head bowed, eyes glued to the screen of his iPad. The chilling atmosphere was heightened by the unmistakable sounds of a horror movie playing – sounds she recognized all too well.

Confusion and alarm etched across her features as she tried to make sense of the situation. The eerie background noises were unmistakably from one of the "Stab" movies – a franchise born from the real-life horrors the town of Woodboro had endured, which has resulted in Tara's unfortunate circumstances. Her voice trembled slightly as she found the words to break the silence that had descended like a heavy fog.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she demanded urgently, her eyes locked onto Richie's figure, searching for any signs of explanation or rationality. His sudden shift in attention, his fingers hovering over the iPad's screen, was a testament to her abrupt intrusion into whatever he was engrossed in.

Richie's gaze lifted from the screen, his eyes wide with surprise at being caught. He seemed momentarily flustered by her presence and her questions, his attempt at playing it off failing to mask his unease.

(Y/n)'s frown deepened as the unsettling sounds of the movie reached her ears once again. She couldn't deny the familiar disquiet that they stirred within her, the haunting echoes of the past becoming tangible in the present. "Are you watching... Stab?" Her voice held a mix of incredulity and incredulousness. It was as if her mind couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation – the fact that Richie, someone on the outskirts of their ordeal, would be voluntarily subjecting himself to this eerie re of trauma.

A shy, almost apologetic smile tugged at the corners of Richie's lips. It was a blend of embarrassment and hesitation, like a person caught red-handed in the act of something they knew wouldn't be well-received. "It's on Netflix," he explained, as if the familiarity of the streaming platform justified his choice of entertainment.

(Y/n)'s puzzled look lingered, her brow furrowing as she tried to understand the reasoning behind his actions. His next words only added to her confusion. "I want to be prepared in case—"

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips before she could even stop herself. Her frustration at the bizarre scenario was palpable, and she found herself standing up from her seat with an urgency that demanded an explanation. She was careful not to disturb Tara, who continued to sleep soundly nearby. "If you wanted to be prepared, you'd be on Wikihow," she retorted, her tone a mix of sarcasm and annoyance. With a quiet but determined resolve, she left the room, needing a breather from the disconcerting situation that had unraveled before her.

The tension in the air seemed to cling to her as she stepped into the corridor, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and bewilderment. The strange confluence of events left her grappling with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that there was more to Richie's actions than met the eye. She couldn't shake the distrust that had taken root, like a seed of doubt that had been planted deep within her mind.

Navigating the hospital's corridors, (Y/n)'s steps were measured and her thoughts a mixture of concern and confusion. She couldn't shake off the unsettling encounter with Richie, his bizarre fixation on watching horror movies as some twisted form of preparation. She needed a moment to herself, a sip of water perhaps, to distance herself from the eerie undercurrents that seemed to be flowing through the hospital.

Approaching the break room, the quiet hum of the hallway was disrupted by an alarming cacophony emanating from within. Banging, clattering, and muffled grunts created an eerie symphony that sent shivers down her spine. Perplexed, she slowed her steps, her curiosity warring with her instinct to flee the chaos.

Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, the scene before her shifted in a blur of motion. Sam burst out of the room, her features a mask of shock and desperation. (Y/n) barely had time to react as Sam collided with her, the impact sending her sprawling to the floor. Sam's startled face met hers, their eyes locking in a brief moment of shared astonishment.

(Y/n) felt Sam's arms gripping her own, attempting to pull her up in the midst of their collision. The urgency of Sam's movements hinted at a deeper turmoil, a frantic need to escape whatever had transpired within the break room. But their awkward positioning and the chaos of the situation only added to the confusion.

In the midst of the chaos, the attempt to stand turned into a clumsy shuffle, a precarious dance of limbs and urgency. Sam's grip faltered, and (Y/n) found herself slipping from her grasp. As if guided by a malevolent force, Sam's foot landed in an unfortunate spot, her heel connecting with (Y/n)'s temple in a jarring impact.

Pain exploded through (Y/n)'s head, and her vision blurred as a high-pitched ringing echoed in her ears. The world around her swirled in a disorienting haze, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening. A blurry figure moved in the periphery of her vision – Ghostface.

As abruptly as the chaos had begun, it ended. Ghostface retreated, leaving behind an unsettling void. (Y/n) remained on the floor, dazed and immobilized by the shock of the encounter. The echoes of Sam's pleas and the ominous sounds of struggle gradually faded, replaced by the hospital's familiar, muted hum.

Amid the disorientation, a nurse arrived on the scenel. (Y/n) blinked, her vision gradually clearing as the nurse's calm voice and gentle touch reassured her. With the nurse's support, (Y/n) managed to rise from the floor, the ache in her temple a persistent reminder of the chaotic collision.

Guided by the nurse, (Y/n) walked, her steps unsteady, back to Tara's hospital room. Tara's attack, the encounter with Richie, the tumult in the break room, it all felt like an eerie dream that she couldn't quite shake off.

(Y/n)'s head throbbed mercilessly, each step feeling like a hammer strike against her temples. The hospital's harsh lights pierced through her skull, sending shockwaves of pain radiating in all directions. She squinted, her hand instinctively shielding her eyes from the blinding assault. As the door to the hospital room drew near, her gaze shifted to Richie, who stood outside with an eerie intensity. His arms were crossed, his ear pressed against the door – a disturbing sight that set her on edge.

Intent on addressing Richie's unsettling behavior, (Y/n) was about to confront him when a sudden, shrill voice rent the air, tearing through the tense silence.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Tara's raw, strained voice reverberated, piercing through the room like a knife. The scene froze, every person in the vicinity arrested by the unexpected outburst. Even the deputy stationed by the door widened his eyes in surprise. Richie, his demeanor shifting from curiosity to apprehension, swiftly moved out of the doorframe. (Y/n)'s light steps closed the gap between her and the unfolding situation, her heart pounding in anticipation.

With a strange sense of déjà vu, the door opened before her hand could even touch the handle. Sam stood before her, her face marred by blotchy redness and tear tracks. Clearly shaken by whatever had transpired inside the room, her eyes traced a path from the floor to (Y/n)'s face, finally settling on the bandaged temple. A quiet sniffle escaped Sam, her voice trembling as she spoke through her emotions.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n)'s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile, her gesture aimed at offering comfort amidst the chaos. She gently reassured Sam of her well-being before guiding her aside, her focus shifting to the heart of the storm – Tara.

Tara sat on the bed, her demeanor distant and lost in thought. Her gaze seemed to penetrate through everything, fixated on some invisible point in the distance. (Y/n) recognized that look – it was the expression of someone grappling with a truth too painful to fully comprehend. It was a mix of disbelief and realization, a storm of emotions brewing beneath a seemingly calm surface.

Whatever Sam had divulged in that room had clearly struck a deep chord within Tara. The weight of that revelation hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the room and enveloping everyone in its shadow. (Y/n)'s heart went out to Tara, her desire to be a source of solace stronger than ever. As she approached the bed, she sent Tara a gentle, supportive look, silently offering her presence.

(Y/n) held Tara tightly, feeling the tremors coursing through her body as tears soaked her shoulder. Tara's voice wavered as she struggled to find words in the midst of her emotional turmoil.

"Why, (Y/n)? Why did Sam lie? Why did my mom keep this from me?"

(Y/n)'s own voice was laden with confusion as she held Tara closer, her heart aching for her girlfriend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tara."

Tara's grip on (Y/n) tightened, as if she was seeking an anchor in the midst of the storm. "He was a killer, a psychopath. How could she be Billy Loomis' daughter?"

(Y/n)'s brows furrowed, her mind grappling to make sense of the pieces Tara was unveiling. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of their shattered reality. "Wait, are you saying Sam is... Billy Loomis' daughter?"

Tara's voice cracked, a mixture of anger and sorrow. "And my mom... how could she let me believe Sam was my sister all this time?"

(Y/n)'s fingers rubbed soothing circles on Tara's back, her own heart heavy with the weight of Tara's pain. "I can't even begin to understand, Tara."

Tara's breath hitched, her voice hollow as she questioned her own identity. "Who am I, (Y/n)? If Sam's not my sister, then... who is she?"

(Y/n)'s grip on Tara tightened as if trying to hold her pieces together. "We'll figure it out, Tara. We'll find the truth together."

Tara's voice wavered as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. Her eyes bore into her girlfriend's, seeking comfort from the sudden betrayal of her family. "I thought I knew my family, (Y/n). But now... everything feels shattered."

(Y/n)'s voice was a quiet reassurance, even though uncertainty gnawed at her. "You're not alone in this, Tara. I'll be here for you every step of the way."

Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, her pain palpable. "I don't even know who my mother is anymore."

(Y/n)'s own confusion mirrored Tara's, her voice filled with empathy. "I can't imagine what you're going through, Tara. But we'll face this together."

Tara's tear-streaked face turned up to (Y/n)'s, eyes searching for something she couldn't quite name. "(Y/n), promise me you won't leave. Promise you'll stay, no matter how messy things get."

(Y/n)'s voice was a fervent vow, her heartache mingling with her commitment. "I promise, Tara. I'm not going anywhere."

The familiar chatter of Dawson Creek filled the hospital room, Tara had turned it on as background noise, to drown out the violent flashes that seemed to submerge her mind. Frustration etched lines on her face as her gaze darted repeatedly towards the door, her impatience festering like an open wound.

A sideways glance at the television in her heightened state snagged her attention, the unfolding scene appearing almost like a twisted mirror to her reality.

"Are the doors locked?"

"Yeah we should check the doors. Joey and Pacey, get the front door. Jen and Cliff, get flashlights-"

A guttural sound reverberated from the corridor, followed by a heavy thud as something crashed to the floor. Goosebumps prickled on Tara's arms, though she tried to dismiss the noise as inconsequential, perhaps a clumsy officer dropping an item or the sound of (Y/n)'s return with her food.

"Hello?"

Her voice carried down the corridor, swallowed by the eerie silence that remained.

"Hello?"

Tara's desperation seeped through her words now, a desperate plea for any sound to shatter the oppressive quietness. Dawson's Creek, once a comforting companion, now seemed to taunt her vulnerability.

"Please. Quit tripping out. This is just Dawson up to his old tired tricks. There's no psychopath in this house."

"Fuck this."

Tara's patience wore thin, her nerves on edge as she disconnected herself from the monitors, their shrill alarms underscoring her own helplessness. With deft movements, she unhooked the uncomfortable nasal cannula from her nose and braced herself, the sharp pain from her cast colliding with the wheelchair's leg serving as a painful reminder of her limitations. Suppressing a cry of pain, she hoisted herself into the seat, the effort eliciting a whimper as her injured body strained. Clinging to the wheels, she propelled herself towards the door, the wounds on her palms reopening and drenching her bandages in fresh blood. Soft whimpers of agony accompanied her every move as she struggled to reach (Y/n), to alert her of the ominous sounds that could threaten them both.

She couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) enduring the same horrors she had faced.

Reaching the end of the bed, a deafening ringing of her cellphone pierced the air, rendering Tara motionless. Her gaze dropped to her bloodied hands, the pain radiating up her arms like a symphony of agony, the shrill sound clamouring for her retreat. But the possibility of Saffron's danger galvanized her resolve, overriding her own suffering.

The corridor stretched before her, devoid of life, its emptiness heightening the chilling atmosphere. Ignoring her aching body, Tara maneuvered herself towards the reception area, a mixture of tears and sobs punctuating her progress. Desperation hung in the air as she hoped for a lifeline. The creaking of the wheels subsided, replaced by a wet, gurgling sound that sent shivers down her spine. Slowing to a halt, she observed the gruesome scene before her. An officer lay sprawled behind the reception desk, his uniform soaked in blood that spewed from a savage gash on his neck. Tara's face contorted in a mask of anguish, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the horrified gasp that escaped her lips. Dreadful realization gripped her – her fears were not unfounded; Ghostface had returned, and (Y/n)'s absence was far too long for Tara's comfort.

A sudden noise, the echo of a door closing, shattered Tara's stupor. Hastily, she wheeled herself into a nearby storage closet, a groan slipping from her lips as the blood-soaked bandages abraded her skin with every movement. Swinging the door shut, she left a slender crack through which she observed the corridor, her grip tightening on a landline she'd found, her trembling fingers desperate for a lifeline. Another door opened, and Tara's breath caught,

"Holy shit," she muttered under her breath. The footsteps grew closer, the thud of boots resonating like a heartbeat. Her fingers clenched around the phone, her only defense in this macabre dance.

As the heavy footsteps made their way towards the door, a blanket of black covered the small room, sending Tara into darkness. Her breath hitched as she attempted to stay quiet, gripping the phone tightly into her hand, knuckles turning white. A figure quickly popped their head in through the door, as Tara swung the phone in her hand with as much power as she could physically muster.

"Ow! Ow," Richie's pained cry echoed as he crumbled to his knees, his grip loosening on his throbbing head., "Goddamn it!"

"Richie?" Tara's gaze bore into him, suspicion lacing her voice. She inched her wheelchair back, her movements cautious and deliberate, as if he were a wounded animal on the verge of attack. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, using the door handle for support. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam called. She said that... you were in trouble." Still touching the spot on his head where he was hit he trailed off, thinking for a moment before his eyes glanced at the phone hanging from its cord.

"Did you hit me with a phone?"

Before Tara could answer, a familiar figure popped up behind Richie. Raising its knife to strike him, "Look out!" Richie swung around being face to face with the killer and their knife.

Richie's reflexes saved him, his arm instinctively raised to defend himself, but the blade still found purchase, carving a deep gash. The sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh reverberated through the room. Richie fought back, grappling with Ghostface in a desperate bid for survival. He clung to the wrist holding the knife, muscles straining as he wrestled for control. The room bore witness to their struggle, the tension suffocating.

Ghostface overpowered Richie, slamming him into the doorframe with a brutal force that left him limp and unresponsive. The scene hung in the air, frozen in time, as Tara absorbed the sight of Richie's motionless body and the shadowy figure that stood ominously before it. Ghostface turned towards her, tilting their head almost mockingly. The only chance of being saved she had was now lying in a heap before her, she was trapped.

With a surge of adrenaline, Tara shoved a monitor off a nearby table, sending it crashing onto Ghostface. As they grappled with the equipment, she seized her chance, propelling herself out of the room. Each movement was an agony, the searing pain from her injuries an unrelenting torment. Her eyes darted around the hallway, seeking an escape route. The elevator stood at the far end, a glimmer of hope beckoning in the darkness.

But it was a sight just outside the elevator that froze her in her tracks. (Y/n)'s bloodied form slumped against the doors, her pallor unnaturally ashen, eyes barely open, her body drenched in a grotesque tapestry of red. Their eyes met, the depth of their shared anguish unfurling between them in an instant, as Tara let out a scream of anguish.

Ghostface's chilling presence reappeared, the masked figure stalking towards Tara, savoring every moment of her terror. This was a twisted game to them, a sadistic symphony of agony orchestrated for their amusement. Tara could feel the walls closing in, every avenue of escape closing off one by one, the air thick with desperation.

They only wanted one thing, their sick and twisted game was going to end with both girls suffering the same fate.

Death

(Y/n)'s rhythmic foot-tapping on the cool pavement outside the bustling hospital entrance seemed like a minor rebellion against the day's clinical monotony. Overhead lights hummed with a steady cadence, while the cacophony of voices and footsteps surged like a river each time the door swung open. Sympathy and guilt had compelled her to venture out, bringing a taste of the outside world back to Tara – a meal that bore no resemblance to the sorry hospital fare.

The crispness of the air was a stark contrast to the confined, stuffy room she had been sharing with Tara. She had needed this brief reprieve, a moment to clear her mind and shake off the heavy emotional burden that had been pressing on her chest. As she let herself drift in the serenity of the moment, the world around her dissipated into a blur.

But then, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility. Her body tensed, a wave of unease crashing over her. It was as if a switch had been flipped, yanking her out of her peaceful reverie and back into the harsh reality. A chill raced down her spine as her senses sharpened, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm in her chest. The tranquility had been a facade – a fragile mirage that now lay shattered around her.

Her movements were slow, deliberate, as she turned to face the source of the noise. Dread knotted her stomach, and a cold sweat formed on her brow despite the gentle breeze that tousled her hair. The alley stretched before her, a corridor of shadow cast by the hospital's imposing structure. Trash cans lined the walls in uneven intervals, creating pockets of darkness that whispered with hidden potential.

Her gaze flitted from one corner to another, her pupils dilating as they fought to make sense of the murky gloom. Time seemed to slow as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, the sound of her own breath growing louder in her ears. It was the alleyway that was her blind spot all along, a trap that she had unknowingly set for herself.

The feeling of being watched crawled under her skin, a persistent sensation that refused to relent. Her muscles tensed, her senses on high alert as she scanned every inch of the alley, seeking out the slightest sign of movement. Her fear was no longer an abstract emotion; it was a tangible force that gripped her like a vise.

The uncertainty gnawed at her, her mind racing through scenarios and possibilities. Was it just her imagination, or was there a real threat lurking in the shadows? Her every instinct screamed at her to flee, to retreat back into the safety of the hospital's embrace. But her body remained rooted, a strange mix of curiosity and terror keeping her in place.

In the shifting dance between light and shadow, her imagination began to conjure shapes – figures that could have been lurking, waiting. Every whisper of wind seemed to echo with menace, every rustle of garbage sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if the very fabric of the alley had come alive, a living embodiment of her fear.

In this chilling tableau, (Y/n) stood at the precipice of action. The alleyway, once an inconspicuous backdrop, had morphed into a stage for a silent, sinister drama. The weight of her decisions pressed heavily upon her, each moment stretching into an eternity as she grappled with her next move.

Amidst the tense backdrop of the alley, a sharp and jarring ring erupted from (Y/n)'s pocket, the sound piercing through the heavy air like a sudden warning. Her phone's vibrations reverberated against her leg, a stark reminder of the urgent reality that was beginning to unravel around her. With a swift and practiced motion, she fished her cellphone from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly with a mix of apprehension and adrenaline.

The screen illuminated, revealing the caller's name – Sam. Her heart raced as she registered the significance of the incoming call. In a world where danger lurked in every shadow, a call from someone close could carry critical information or a vital warning. Her mind raced as she weighed the importance of answering this call against the potential threat that lingered in the alleyway.

Before she could even consider her next move, the abrupt sound of a door slamming echoed through the confined space, a stark reminder of the lurking peril that demanded her attention. The killer – the very embodiment of the threat that had been gnawing at her senses – was out there, somewhere, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The reality of the situation surged back, and her instincts kicked into overdrive.

Frozen in shock, her hand still clutching the phone, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, each heartbeat a reminder of the perilous situation she was in. Her heart waged a battle with her rationality – answer the call and possibly get much-needed information or stay hyperaware of her surroundings to avoid a potentially deadly encounter.

With her senses on high alert, she managed to answer the call, her voice edged with tension. She held the phone to her ear, her eyes sharply focused on the alleyway, her breath held as she strained to hear any sound – any hint of the danger that might be lurking in the darkness. The voice on the other end became a distant murmur as her attention remained riveted on the shadows, her mind racing to analyze every movement, every flicker of movement, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"(Y/n)?" Her urgent voice cracked through the phone's speakers, each syllable carrying a weight of concern that matched the gravity of the situation. "Are you still with Tara?"

(Y/n)'s eyes remained locked onto the oppressive darkness before her, her senses on high alert. The words poured from the phone, a lifeline to the outside world in a moment that felt far from safe. "I'm just standing outside the hospital, waiting on food," she replied, her voice carrying a tremor of unease. But Sam's call wasn't just a casual check-in, it held an undercurrent of urgency that (Y/n) couldn't ignore. "Why?"

A pause hung in the air, heavy and fraught with tension, as Sam's next words crashed into (Y/n)'s consciousness like an oncoming storm. "Wes and Officer Hicks were murdered and the deputy is here—" The news hit (Y/n) like a physical blow, a gut-punch of shock and horror that reverberated through her entire being. Wes, one of her best friends since childhood, was gone. Along with his mother who was the head of the entire investigation on Ghostface.

(Y/n)'s body went rigid, her grip on the phone tightening as her mind raced through the implications of Sam's words. Panic surged within her, the realization striking like a bolt of lightning – if the deputy was gone from his post at the hospital, who was guarding Tara? Her thoughts spiraled into a frenzy, every worst-case scenario playing out in her mind's eye, a cruel montage of potential threats.

Before Sam could continue, before her mind could fully grapple with the sheer vulnerability of the situation, (Y/n)'s voice cut through the connection, her urgency and fear spilling forth. "Sam, get here as fast as you possibly can—"

It was a decision born out of desperation, a gamble made in the haze of fear. The door, positioned halfway down the ominous alley, loomed before her like a lifeline – a portal that could potentially lead her back to the safety of Tara's side. (Y/n)'s heart raced, each thud a reminder of the seconds ticking away, the precious moments that separated her from danger and sanctuary.

Without hesitation, fueled by adrenaline and a singular purpose, (Y/n)'s legs churned as she sprinted down the alley. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her shoes barely touching the ground as if propelled by sheer willpower. The thought of Tara, vulnerable and alone, provided a pulse of urgency that propelled her forward despite the terror gnawing at her heels.

The door, unassuming yet laden with potential, drew closer with each stride. Her trembling hand gripped the handle, the cold metal a stark contrast to her heated skin. In her frantic rush, even the simplest action felt like a monumental task. The door resisted, a stubborn barrier between her and the haven she sought. With a surge of determination, she managed to wrench it open, her body propelled into the relative safety of the hospital's stairwell.

The rush of relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by the stark realization that safety was a fragile illusion. She glanced around, her eyes scanning for any means to secure the entrance, to lock out the danger lurking in the shadows. Her gaze settled on a latch positioned overhead, a glimmer of hope in the dimly lit corridor.

Her fingers, slick with sweat and trembling with urgency, reached for the latch. Stretching on her tiptoes, her heart hammering against her ribs, she managed to engage the lock. A sigh of relief brushed her lips, a fleeting moment of victory as she turned to ascend the stairs that would take her to Tara.

But destiny is a cruel mistress, and the instant she turned around, a cold wall of black fabric met her, halting her progress. Panic surged like a tidal wave, her heart leaping to her throat as she gazed into the abyss of a familiar and malevolent presence.

They hadn't remained trapped in the alley, they hadn't faltered in their pursuit. They had anticipated her move, outmaneuvered her once again. And now, in this suffocating confrontation, the balance between life and death seemed as fragile as a spider's thread.

(Y/n)'s weary gaze remained fixated on Tara’s figure as she battled through the torment in her body to reach her. The moist, sickening sound of her bloodied hands against the wheels echoed in her ears as she desperately moved away from the looming presence of Ghostface, who lingered ominously behind her.

Numbness had spread through (Y/n)'s body, the pain becoming a distant sensation amidst the overwhelming chaos. Each movement sent shocks of agony, a relentless reminder of her recent ordeal. Her hands, coated in her own life fluid, struggled to propel her fragile form across the sterile hospital floor, leaving a macabre trail in her wake. The weight of exhaustion threatened to collapse her, her weakened form almost crumpling as she ventured away from the reassuring support of the wall.

The taste of desperation mingled with the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, as if her very life force was seeping away with every agonizing inch she managed to cover.

Richie’s cell phone erupted into a shrill ring, and Ghostface spun around, reaching toward Richie's slumped body to extract the phone from his pocket. Their gloved fingers cautiously pressed a button near the bottom of their mask, causing it to start flashing red. (Y/n) strained to make out the concerned tone of Sam’s voice through the phone's speaker, though the words remained elusive.

“Hello, Samantha!” Ghostface's distorted voice sliced through the air, stalking closer to a terror-stricken Tara, who had managed to put some distance between them, but the gap could be closed quickly.

“Richie can’t come to the phone right now. He’s finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn’t concern them.”

“I’ll tell you what you can choose; I’ll only kill one,” the distorted voice continued, chilling (Y/n) to her core.

Sam's voice, desperate and pleading, cut through the phone's crackling. (Y/n) shifted her gaze briefly to Tara, who was putting more space between herself and the advancing Ghostface, her sobs growing louder.

“Who do you want to hear die?”

Amidst the fear and tension, Sam's desperate cries carried through the line, and Ghostface reveled in the torment, his taunts aimed at the terrified girls. (Y/n) knew that Ghostface's intention was to kill both of them, but she clung to a flicker of hope that Sam's plan might ensure Tara's survival.

“Really? You can’t save your own sister? All you have to do is say 'Kill Richie,' because I don’t think (Y/n)’s making it out either way!”

With an adrenaline-fueled surge, (Y/n)'s resolve solidified. If she couldn't escape this nightmare, she was willing to give her life to protect the person she loved most.

“Fuck you!” Tara's scream echoed through the hallway as Ghostface charged toward her. The wheelchair crashed to the floor, and Tara began crawling toward (Y/n), her fingers desperately gripping the cold linoleum.

“Or say 'Kill Tara!' And I’ll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time!”

Tara's fingers found (Y/n)'s side, gripping her as she attempted to shield her from Ghostface’s impending attack.

“Last chance to save one, choose!” Ghostface's taunting voice pierced the air, echoing the desperate plea from Sam through the phone.

(Y/n) heard Sam's voice, laced with grief and pain, clearer than ever, “Why are you doing this?”

“You want to know why, Sam? Maybe it's because you’re a selfish bitch, who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.”

“Maybe you’re too weak for this franchise!”

Ghostface's legs closed in around both girls, (Y/n) straining to shield Tara from the imminent danger. She was prepared to bear the brunt of the attack, if it meant giving Tara a chance to escape. Tara's grip tightened, and her voice rose in defiance.

“Maybe you’re right?” Sam's voice sounded broken, defeated. (Y/n)'s heart sank; had Sam truly given up?

“Or maybe I’m just stalling for time, fuckhead!”

A sudden ping signaled the opening of the elevator doors, interrupting Ghostface's impending strike. Startled, Ghostface looked away for a fleeting moment. In that instant, (Y/n)'s heart raced, her hope rekindling. Through the elevator doors stood Sam and Dewey. Dewey fired off several shots down the hallway, sending Ghostface retreating and disappearing into a different corridor.

Dewey sprinted to Richie's side, who was sprawled a few meters behind, while Sam rushed to (Y/n) and Tara. (Y/n)'s vision wavered, the agony in her body muddling her perception of the chaos around her. She strained to hear Tara's soft whimpers amidst the commotion as Sam worked to move her sister.

Guiding Tara toward the elevator doors, Sam reassured (Y/n) that she would be back for her as soon as Tara was safely inside. Dewey, with his arm under Richie, led him back, but their progress was abruptly halted as Ghostface reappeared. In the ensuing struggle, Richie was thrown to the ground, and Dewey and Ghostface locked in a fierce grapple, colliding into walls and grappling each other.

The fight escalated, both men grappling and wrestling for control, until they crashed onto the floor. Dewey's gun skidded across the tiles, out of reach. Ghostface lunged, attempting to strike Dewey, but the seasoned officer managed to use his strength to headbutt Ghostface, buying him a moment to seize his gun. When Dewey turned, Ghostface charged once more, knife poised for a lethal strike. Dewey acted swiftly, firing several shots into Ghostface's chest, propelling him into a glass shelf with a shattering crash.

With Richie in his arms, Dewey retreated, heading back to (Y/n), who lay motionless on the floor. Gently lifting her, he heard her faint whimpering—a sign that she was alive. He swiftly pressed the elevator's call button, ushering them inside as the doors slid open.

The events inside the elevator remained a blur to (Y/n), her consciousness slipping. Richie's arms provided a faint anchor, and Dewey's voice seemed distant as he vanished from view. The resonating ring in her ears drowned out the ensuing conversations, though she surmised that Dewey was likely heading back to deal with Ghostface for good.

“Dewey, who cares?” Sam's voice echoed, her urgency palpable as she sought to ensure no further lives were lost.

The elevator doors began to close on Dewey's retreating figure, his final words reaching (Y/n)'s ears like a distant echo, “I do.”

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