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#i know he was doing horrible things to her
hannieehaee · 3 days
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MAIN THING (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: after years of insistence from soonyoung, he finally convinces resident social butterfly seungkwan to introduce him to his unrequited crush; a fellow idol at hybe who he has not been able to take his eyes off since moving to the company.
content: idol!hoshi x hybeidol!reader, simp!hoshi, he's down horribly bad, seungkwan is fed up with hoshi, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 746 (teaser); 11k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: june 14th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: time for more horrendously down bad hoshi
masterlist
"Just introduce me to her. Please," whined Soonyoung for the nth time that week.
"I already said no! Just go talk to her yourself like a normal person," rebutted Seungkwan, attempting but failing at disregarding his insistent friend.
"He can't do that. Last time they made eye contact he ran to hide behind Mingyu," snickered Jeonghan, invested in this conversation whenever it was brought up.
"I just need you to get the ball rolling. Please, Kwan-ah," he pleaded as he got up in Seungkwan's personal space – a thing everyone knew not to do.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "She already knows who you are, you know. There's no need to introduce you," he muttered under his breath.
"Wait, what. She does? Like knows knows me? Or just knows of Hoshi of Seventeen?", his eyes widened in shock, grabbing onto Seungkwan's shoulders to get his full attention.
"She knows Kwon Soonyoung, dumbass. She's one of my closest friends, why wouldn't she know of you?", he grumbled, attempting to shake off his friend.
Soonyoung sighed at the short-lived hope he had of you having maybe taken an interest to him and brought him up in conversation with Seungkwan, just to have confirmation (yet again) of you simply knowing him as Seungkwan's groupmate.
It had been two, no, three years since Soonyoung had first developed a special interest in you. Thinking back to when Pledis was first acquired by Hybe, Soonyoung still remembered the first time he saw you in person very vividly.
Instantly, he developed a crush on you from the very first glance, only falling further any time you'd cross paths in the building.
He had known of your existence before that, of course, but had never truly acknowledged his obvious crush on you until he first met you in person.
Unfortunately for Soonyoung, he was far too shy and introverted to ever actually engage in conversation with you, much less slide his way into your life the way Seungkwan so easily had – Seungkwan, who had become one of your closest friends. On the contrary, Soonyoung would actively go out of his way to avoid you, never even so much as making eye contact whenever Seungkwan would bring you around.
It was easy for him to become the mockery of the members due to this. Leave it to him to have his years-long crush become best friends with one of his best friends, leading him to your constant, nerve-wracking proximity.
At some point he decided that maybe he should break out of his shell – the shell he had created specifically to shield himself from his feelings for you. He decided that instead of avoiding you, he'd do the next best thing ... which was to ask Seungkwan to officially re-introduce you to each other.
You were blissfully unaware of Soonyoung's crush, he knew that much. Did you know of his existence? Barely, as you'd only interacted a handful of times, with those always being brief and impersonal interactions. This gave Soonyoung the perfect opportunity to start brand new with you. Except he'd need the help of his most extroverted friend, who just so happened to be your best friend.
After begging Seungkwan to please work his social butterfly magic on him, he found himself unsuccessful. Seungkwan would merely scoff and tell him to grow up, leading Soonyoung to be mocked by one of the other eleven members, and then the cycle would repeat. Currently, it was Jeonghan's turn to snicker at Soonyoung's misery, it seemed.
Taking note of Soonyoung's pouty lips and saddened demeanor, Jeonghan took pity on him and clapped his hands decisively before speaking up again.
"Okay, how about you let Hoshining here take your place in doing the TikTok challenge for maestro with Y/N? If they hit it off, then you've done your due diligence, and if not, Soonie can just go get fucked. Everybody wins," he suggested as he shrugged at Seungkwan.
Soonyoung lit up at this, choosing to completely disregard the last two sentences of his suggestion. This was more than enough for him to get the ball rolling.
Immediately joining in on the plan, he turned to Seungkwan once more, ready to beg again.
"Don't say anything," Seungkwan shushed him with a lift of his finger, opposite hand now digging into his temple in what Soonyoung hoped to simply be exaggerated annoyance, "I'll do it, just, please grant me twenty minutes of silence," he pleaded.
That worked well enough for Soonyoung.
...
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likeumeanit9497 · 3 days
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please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
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Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
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I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
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sinofwriting · 24 hours
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Never - Charles Leclerc
Words: 705 Summary: Charles finds out she’s never had an orgasm. Note(s): Mentions/Talks of Sex, Bestfriends to Lovers, part of a kind of series that explores certain drivers finding out that reader has never had an orgasm.
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Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund
“What?” She asks, smiling around the words as she catches Charles staring at her, his head propped by his hand. “You are just very beautiful.” She shakes her head with a small laugh, eyes falling back down to the coffee table covered in sheet music. “You are.” He insists, giving her a nudge. She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “I think you have to say that. I’m your best friend after all.” He laughs, hand coming up to rub at his chest for a second. “I think Joris would have a problem with that. But I don’t have to say it.” Charles' face turns serious, though a smile is still pulling at his lips. “You are gorgeous. I still don’t know how you are alone.” “Just,” she sighs, the inside of her lip catching between her teeth. “No one’s caught my eye.” She tells him, hoping he doesn’t catch the lie, but he does.
She can tell from the way he sits forward, nearly pitching off the couch in his hurry. “Someone has caught your eye.” “No.” “Someone has. Who? Tell me about them.” “No.” She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s never gonna happen, alright? That’s just not in the cards for me.” “C’mon, they are an idiot if they don’t feel the same way about you.” Her lips press together as she swallows a harsh laugh. “That’s not it. I mean sort of,” she corrects. “But there’s a reason I don’t date and I don’t have one night stands and I don’t have relationships. I’m a nightmare, a horrible, lousy, stupid excuse of a woman.” The words are easy as they fall off her tongue, things she’s heard before. There’s more than wants to fall, but Charles is looking at her, horrified, and she winces. “I’m sorry, Charles. I just, I’m not interested.” “Why would?” He pauses, brows furrowed, jaw starting to clench in anger. “Why would anyone say that to you, about you? You are not those things.” “Not all of them.” She allows. “But a stupid excuse of a woman, absolutely.” She laughs. He says her name and she stops laughing, her smile dimming.
“Charles, I’m not being mean to myself. I’ve come to accept it. There’s a certain something a good majority of people want from their partners, and I can’t deliver it.” “Deliver what?” She stands up with a laugh, shaking her head. “No. I said too much. I shouldn’t have entertained this any longer. New subject.” He pulls her back down on the couch, uncaring of the way she protests, his eyes boring into hers. “Deliver what?” She stares back at him, hoping that for once Charles Leclerc will know when to back down, but he doesn’t. “Orgasm.” She finally says and watches confusion spread across his face. “I can’t orgasm. I’m twenty-four and I’ve never cum once in my life. That,” she laughs. “Happens to be a bit of a turn-off or an ego bruiser.”
Charles looks at her, the confusion gone from his face and instead determination is there. “Then today will be the day you do.” She rolls her eyes, scooting a bit away from him as she tries to ignore the way her heart seems to be beating double time and the burn that is starting between her thighs. “Very funny.” “I mean it.” “Charles.” She tries to continue but can’t. Not at the way he’s looking at her. It’s more than the set of determination lining his brow, the near glare in the squint of his eyes. It’s the combination with the set of his jaw and parted lips, the lean of his body into hers.
“Before,” he speaks, knowing she’s about to say he won’t be able to. “You say something about me not being able to. Let me try.” He then smiles, a giddy, disbelief filled thing. “After all I just did win Monaco.” It makes her laugh, the comparison of him winning Monaco after seven years of trying, with her trying to achieve an orgasm for the same amount of time. “Are you saying you can break another curse?” She jokes. “Monaco was never a curse and this,” his fingers dance across her covered thigh. “Isn’t either.”
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zoropookie · 2 days
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WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — ONE
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YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!
soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader
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"Yeah, I understand that it's the third day I haven't paid my rent, I'm telling you my banks been closed."
Your voice to your landlord, Kamisato Ayato (who is also your boss), on the phone reeked with desperation. And yet, even though this was the case, you still had time to snack on chicken strips at a picnic table.
"(L/N), there's nothing else I can do, your extension is up. I need a payment by tomorrow." His voice crackled through the phone, stern but never sympathetic. "I have other tenants to consider."
"Wouldn't have guessed that one." You laughed as a jab at the other, a thin veneer of your humor and the intense need to scream gnawed at your mouth. “You’re rich as hell telling me that you have other tenants to consider, but you’re still making me clean toilets? Couldn't give me a promotion to accountant or anything? I know about 16 of your slimy practices.”
“You're being dramatic.”
“The only other tenants are Itto and Yoimiya with her dad. This is a side thing for you with how often my shower head is broken.” Your eyes dulled. “If anything, I should be telling you to pay me.”
The other end went silent, as your boss Ayato cleared his throat. “I never said it was free housing in the lease.”
“Ooh, slimy practice number 17! Hey, maybe if you make it to 20, I can wring 700,000 mora out of you.”
“You can make as many threats as you want, you still haven't paid in time. I can’t keep extending deadlines for you.” Ayato’s voice hardened. “If you can’t pay by tonight, you will have to find somewhere else to stay.”
You felt helpless in the moment, but still managed to hold on to the call for just a few more seconds. “Really, Kamisato.” Your voice dulled. “You’re going to lock me out of my apartment, keep me in a Halloween costume, and deny my valid reason just because I didn’t pay up 1,000 mora? Me, who cleans your event hall everyday.”
“Perhaps you should have been more conscious of your money management. Please be more responsible in the future, (L/N). Good luck to you.”
And with that, he hung up. You let out a growl of frustration and slammed your phone down on the picnic table. It happened to bounce up and land face down on the floor. You gasped lightly, reaching quickly to pick it up as you checked it frantically.
Cracks up and down the screen of your phone you still managed to be making payments on. "Wow..." You stared at the cracks in disbelief, feeling a disastrous amount of weight that prompted you to throw away the greasy chicken strips. You've been going to this place for so long to save money that you wondered if you were ever really saving anyway.
You gathered your thoughts quickly before continue your walk back home. You had just came back from a big Halloween party that your neighbor Yoimiya invited you to. You weren't listening entirely, but she was yapping hard about this concept about soulmates and how it's been actually proven that what the mark you were born with yadda yadda yadda. Because of this, anyway, she had made these weird concoctions that made the fireworks different colors. From purple, orange, green, and so on to get everyone in the spirit.
You were too scared of her to say no; one of these days you were convinced she's going to accidentally make a nuke and kill everyone. You'd rather not make an enemy if it meant you had a chance living in her oddly huge bunker (how did she make a bunker underground her bottom floor apartment?).
If anything, your spirit was crushed as soon as you left the party. With how the only guy blowing up your phone was Ayato and he just wanted the money that he gave you back, and looking like a very horrible version of an 80's professional acrobatics instructor with an equally as bad haircut, you were pretty much having the worst Halloween night of your life.
Especially seeing your crush for 13 years, Xiao, kiss the literal only other guy at the party, Venti. How long were you even waiting to get your chance? He didn't even know Venti that well compared to you, and he was probably crushing on him just because he could sing. And now you have the very moment that you were happy to not in the blink of an eye, so miserable seeing it that you could swear you felt yourself sober up.
And to Creep by Radiohead blaring in the background, they were kissing to one of the most unconventional songs you can kiss to. For what may have been a song for them to remember their first kiss was a song that you wanted to shove an ice pick through your ear canal every time you heard it now. You guessed the soulmate stuff Yoimiya was talking about was true. They saw the exact same mark on each others wrists...
You could sing too, probably even better than he could. Singing isn't even that hard.
As you started singing a very off-key and melancholic version of Teenage Dream by Katy Perry to prove yourself right, you weren't even worried about the long winded alleyways and dark streets you were weaving through. The eeriness of the night was mocking, but comforting. Long, distorted shadows, making the streetlights cast them oddly.
Your footsteps echoed against the narrow walls of the alleyways, a gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine and stretched the night on. You kicked a pebble absentmindedly, watching as it skittered along the cracked pavement. It was ironic being at a party you actually felt comfortable being at and getting your hopes absolutely shattered in the meantime. It seemed so out of reach from what did occur.
The sight of your apartment was a burden, and even though you were guaranteed going to be kicked out tomorrow, you didn't want to linger on the reminder any longer.
As you were about to climb the steps, you paused once you heard something similar to a whine. It was faint when you first heard it, almost blending in to the light pollution of the street. You turned your body towards the nearby alleyway, awaiting for another noise to confirm your delusions. Moments passed, each second stretching into eternity. Just when you were about to dismiss it again, another cry of what sounded like a man alerted you, followed by a groveling sound that sounded similar to a guttural gurgle.
Hell. No.
Now usually, you would mind your business and go to sleep with a knife in the bed next to you. You were not a stickler for being the person in the horror movies that said 'let's go see what it is'! But you weren't entirely convinced that the neighborhood was terrible, and with your current dilemma? Maybe dying a horrible death would feel better than whatever you're about to go through in the next twenty-four hours.
But at the same time...you weren't convinced that whatever is doing that wasn't an injured puppy or something. You may have had a heart for what happens to animals, but you aren't stupid.
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Because y'all love selective reading...
Nesta doesn't care about anyone but herself.
refusing to leave Cassian as he dies in ACOWAR
"What I care about is making sure no children-fae or human-are harmed."
Staying by Cassian's side as he dies in ACOSF
Staying behind so that her friends could survive the rite.
"She would save him, save them, even if it took everything."
Nesta needs to acknowledge what Feyre did for her/how she treated her!
"But beneath the wall, I witnessed children-entire families-starve to death. Were it not for my sister...I would be among them."
"It consumed me so much that...that I let Feyre go into that forest and told myself I didn't care."
"Wished someone would smother the voice that whispered every horrible thing she'd ever done, every awful thought she'd had, every person she'd failed."
"You loved me when no one else would. You never stopped. Even when I didn't deserve it, you loved me, and fought for me."
"I swallowed my shout of pain as Nesta's arms went around my neck, and she embraced me so hard it snatched my breath away." "Her body shook, shook as she sobbed, and said over and over and over, thank you."
Nesta didn't experience enough trauma to act the way she did!
girl, bye be so fr
comparing trauma is gross, and if you think you have any right to do so, you won't fit in on my page :)
Nesta thinks she is superior to everyone around her. 
"I am worthless and I am nothing. I hate everything I am, and I am so, so tired. I am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head."
"You're right to hide your children from me, I am the monster you fear."
"She had been suffering, and he'd had no idea how much it consumed every facet of her life. He'd seen her self-loathing and anger-but hadn't realized how much she'd been away of it. How much it had eaten her up."
Nesta can never allow anyone to love her.
"Nesta leaned forward until their brows touched. And despite all that brimmed in her heart, all that flowed through her body, sure and true, she merely whispered, thank you."
"I love you, too, Feyre whispered to her sister, and smiled. Nesta didn't stop her sob as she launched herself onto Feyre and embraced her."
"I didn't know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then-back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room. But that morning, as the sun rose over the world, we held tight. And we did not let go."
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staytinyville · 1 day
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Burn It (Pt. 1)
↣ Summary: You were only a decoy for all those who wanted your family off the throne. The real leader was your horrible sister who ruled with fear in their subjects. You only did what was told of you and if others came to assassinate you then so be it. 
↣ Characters/Pairing: Eventual!Min Yoongi x Reader, Slight Namjoon x Reader,
↣ Genre: Historical, Mature
↣ AU/Trope info: Historical!au, Queen!Reader, Rebel!Yoongi, 
↣ Word Count: 6.1k
↣ Warnings: Abuse, Toxic household, 
↣ A/N: Honestly I always get inspired by all the historical stories on here and I just really wanted to sit my ass down to write. Part two might just have smut y’all so tell me if you want lmao. Also can you please tell me what you guys think of my writing? I don’t know I want to publish sometime soon but like if I suck at writing why bother.
Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist
↣ Affiliates: @k-labels , @k-vanity
↣ Special Tags: @anyamaris , @kpop-stories-21
↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!
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You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 
You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 
You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.
You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 
You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.
You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 
You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.
“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 
“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.
There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.
“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 
He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 
He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 
She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.
He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 
You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.
“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.
“I thought you were going to—”
“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 
“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 
“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 
“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 
The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 
“Wait—”
You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 
But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 
“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.
“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 
“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 
“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.
“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 
“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 
You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 
“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 
You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 
“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.
Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 
“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 
You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 
The only one who did. 
As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 
“Are you truly okay, my queen?”
Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 
He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.
**
The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 
You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 
“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 
“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 
There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 
“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”
He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 
“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 
“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 
You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 
You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 
He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 
No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 
“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”
“Him.” You interrupted your father. 
“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 
You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 
“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”
“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”
“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 
“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 
With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 
“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 
“Agust.” He spoke deeply.
“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.
“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 
“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 
You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 
“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 
“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 
Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 
“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”
“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 
Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.
“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 
It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 
“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.
“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.
As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 
Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 
“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 
“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”
“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 
“Because I am your royal guard—”
“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 
He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”
“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 
His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”
“So you know about it?”
“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 
“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 
He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 
There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 
“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.
“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 
He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 
“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 
“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 
“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 
He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”
**
The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 
“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 
“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 
“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 
“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 
As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 
Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 
There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 
“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 
She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.
Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 
“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.
“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”
His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 
He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 
“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”
“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 
You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 
“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”
The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 
“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 
“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 
“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”
“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 
“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 
He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 
“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 
“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.
Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 
He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 
“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 
“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.
“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”
“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 
“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”
Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.
“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 
He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 
“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”
Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 
“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.
“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 
“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 
“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 
“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.
Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 
“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”
“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 
Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 
The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 
“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  
Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 
“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 
Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”
“They gave her a cold patch.”
He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 
“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  
As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 
“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 
Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 
However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 
“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 
“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 
“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.
“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 
“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 
“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 
“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 
“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 
Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 
“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.
“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.
You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 
“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.
“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.
You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”
“It will solve many.” He sneered. 
“That’s what you think.” You told him.
He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.
However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.
“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 
“Who?”
“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.
“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 
“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.
You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.
** 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.
“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”
You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”
The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 
“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 
He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.
“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.
When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.
“Leader?” He questioned.
“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”
“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.
“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 
There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 
“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 
“Don’t get what?” You questioned.
“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 
“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.
There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 
But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 
“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.
“What is that?” You asked him.
“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.
“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 
“Not what?”
“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 
This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 
“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.
“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 
“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.
“Which job?” He questioned. 
“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”
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Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.
Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @cryingpages , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @kenzie203 , @loveless-lie , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @emtrades22 , @wolfgurl2600-blog ,
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sockatoo-rob · 1 day
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after seeing a bunch of stuff in the fandom related to how touch-starved ragatha really is, i just had to go back and count every time she touches herself or looks like she wants to touch someone else in episode two. and guess. just guess.
i counted eleven different times on-screen that she's rubbing her own arm, fiddling with/ holding her own hands, hugging herself, etc. eleven times is way more than i was expecting (i was thinking five at first) but it's literally almost every time she's on screen. and i didn't count how eager she was to take princess loolilalu's hands in her own.
and i also felt obligated to overanalyze the way pomni acts, especially around gummigoo... this is more about ragatha though i think? idk either way this will be long so buckle up and grab some popcorn
------
ragatha is the kind of woman to need to be touched, with every fiber of her being, but never ask for it, because she doesn't want to bother anyone. she needs physical affection, and she would accept it from literally anyone, but she also needs people to like her. she needs people to rely on her. ragatha stays optimistic to a scarily unhealthy degree jist to make sure no one hates her. and somehow it works.
she doesn't ever cross anyone's boundaries, she doesn't dare even imply that she wants to, even though she needs it more than anything. she just projects her insecurity and self-loathing in the form of "cupcakes and sprinkles and petting kitty-cats" and "if you're feeling sad just do a little dance!!" like girl is suppressing so much... the mass of all her suppressed emotions has ti have become a singularity by now.
anyway, with pomni canonically just disliking being touched, ragatha only suffers more. she seems like she's attached herself to pomni, in a sense? she's desperate to try and make pomni feel extra comfortable, for some reason. and i think i know why.
all the other members of the circus already know her. she already knows what they think of her to an extent, and she already knows how much or little her happy-go-lucky demeanor does for them all. and no one there seems to really be a genuine friend to her other than kinger. and, y'know, he's... kinger.
so ragatha has no one to really confide in, and i assume no one else confides in her other than the occasional need for encouragement or reassurance. and as previously stated, she needs people to lean on her.
then pomni shows up! and she seems like a somewhat nice person. so ragatha tries her absolute hardest to get pomni to like her. because no one else in the circus seems to care.
this dynamic seems like such a good opportunity for gut-wrenching angst and tension. maybe even a horrible scene in which ragatha tries to make pomni feel better with her debilitatingly unhealthy and unrealistic optimism im a situation that absolutely does mot call for it-- and pomni just can't deal with it anymore. because she's smart enough to know that ragatha is only using it as a decoy and a tool to hide something deep, dark, terrible, within her... and snaps at her.
full-on yelling, pointing, walking towards her all in a blind, devastating rage, because pomni is smart enough to see that it's just a way to get her self-worth from somewhere other than herself, and that it's all a facade, and she hates that ragatha thinks that's the only reason people care about her... and ragatha is dumbfounded, because in her entire life, in and out of the circus, no one has ever been able to see through it. not a single soul.
this eventually leads to a heart-to-heart, and apologies, truths, lies, and everything in-between fall out of their mouths like waterfalls. and it all leads to the best friendship either of them have ever had.
pomni is no therapist, no professional. but she's been through some bad places before, as seen in ep 2 with her conversation with gummigoo. sometimes we just need to be realistic about things, and acknowledge that things aren't okay. and pomni seems like she can keep things real. which is something ragatha desperately needs.
and when pomni is about to explode from the insanity of the world, ragatha can be there as comfort and reassurance, because pomni's always drowning in the bad possibilities so much and being so skeptical of everything that it's debilitating. ragatha can see the bright side of things no matter what (even if it's unhealthy most times), and with pomni seeming like an overall more down-to-earth person, they can balance things out really well. ragatha's got the heart to keep everyone's spirits high, and pomni can stay real with everyone to make sure they're prepared for whatever might come barreling towards them. i think this is what makes them so perfect for each other.
and the connection, the deep emotional understanding of each other leads to something... more.... homosexual. yeah i'm a chronic jesterdoll shipper of course it would lead to this
---
all the funny ha-ha aside, this dynamic is so fun to brainstorm about. i'm in love with how deep this could get. some of this might be pretty far from cannon, as only episode two is out when i write this, but i'm trying to interpret their characters as accurately as possible from what little we have so far. i think i did pretty well for a random gay bird with internet access
i'm half-tempted to incorporate a scene like this into my au. like it's soooo juicy i love it i want to write it i need to see it realized
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game; part eight of sore loser ⋆ masterlist
summary: patrick doesn't understand the game you're playing | content/warning: explicit language, light angst, arguing, and everyone being shitty lmao | tags: @midwestprincesss
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"Do you ever think she's just using us?"
Art makes a questioning sound, muffled by the mouthful of donut he had all but shoved into his mouth. He chews and swallows it quickly before speaking up again. "What do you mean?" he asks.
Patrick sinks a little lower into the plastic chair, the sun catching his face before he sits upright again. "I dunno, like," he thinks a moment before continuing. "This thing we have, whatever it is," he says, gesturing between the two of them, "it just kinda revolves around tennis."
"It's like some kind of weird pavlovian response she has," he continued, eyes trained on the blue clay of the turf. "Like as soon as she starts talking about tennis, it gets her going."
"Kinky," Art joked with a playful scoff. Patrick shook his head, his body sinking back down into the chair. "It's kinda fucked up," he added softly. Art only hummed as he thought the situation through, his hand wiping across his mouth absent-mindedly. "Maybe it's better that way," he says, "I mean, she knows you're not serious—"
"Who says I'm not serious?" Patrick asked, looking at Art, who in return had a incredulous look on his face. "C'mon, Pat," he started, "you're in a new city every week, she's doing good for herself, moving up the ranks. I mean," he shrugged.
Patrick scoffed, sitting upright once again. "Why do you sound like you're trying to protect her from me or something?" he asked with a laugh lacking any humor. Art stayed quiet, his eyes now also trained on the blue turf, and just in time to see you emerge from the locker room, the giant bag hanging from your shoulder.
Patrick's eyes followed you for a moment, watching the way your tennis skirt swayed with each step before he suddenly stood up and moved through the grumbling people wordlessly.
When you scanned the crowd, you found Art sitting in the fourth row, a small smile on his face when your eyes finally met his. You returned the gesture with a wave before you noticed the seat next to him empty, no Patrick in sight. Your stomach churned with something uncertain as you started warming up.
✰ ⊹ ˚.
You lost, and horribly at that. Your opponent was still fairly new and the fact that she had managed to beat you inflated her ego by a hundred and made you want to throw the tennis racket at her head to wipe that smug look off her face. You should've been able to beat her, but you didn't, and now Sarah Joy Anderson had ended your winning streak.
You were in a foul mood after that, not even waiting around for Art and immediately making your way back to your dorm. A piping hot shower later, and you now sat quietly in bed, finally working on your assignments as the small radio on your dresser softly played.
A knock at your door startled you a bit and you had to gather all your strength to face anyone considering the mood you were in. You got up with a grunt, taking a moment to take a few calming breaths before opening the door.
It was almost funny how fast the initial calmness seeped right out of your body at the sight of Patrick standing in front of you, a matching scowl on his features.
"What kind of game are you playing here?" he asked, voice soft but still demanding of an answer. "I don't wanna do this right now," you said, ignoring his question as you moved to slam the door shut until he effectively stopped it with an outstretched arm. "I'm serious," he said, eyes staring you down and filled with so much unidentifiable emotion you almost folded. "What's your plan? Why are you doing this?" he tried again.
You were quiet for a few moments, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You were angry at him, angry at losing to fucking Sarah Joy. Angry that he thought he could come here and confront you like this. "Why weren't you there today?" you asked, a small smirk forming when you could physically see the frustration expression deepening, his hands moving to rub over his reddening face. "Because I don't want to play your fucking game anymore," he answered in a frustrated breath.
"Choose," he said suddenly, catching you off guard. "What?" you questioned, recoiling when he moved closer to you, almost in your face. "Choose," he repeated, "me or Art."
"No," you said, watching that sickening smirk stretch across his face. "C'mon, is it really that hard?" he laughed. Actually laughed. "Fuck you," you said with so much venomous anger you felt lightheaded once the words left your mouth. "Yeah, you've been trying to for months."
The sound of your open palm hitting his face was loud in the quiet hallway, echoing through the area and through your body. The bright red hand rapidly imprinting itself onto the side of his face almost made you smile if it weren't for the look on his face.
You both were quiet, the realization sinking in as you stared at each other. It was a blur after that, as cliché as it sounded. All you remember was him pulling you closer with a force that had you practically falling against his chest and his mouth on yours. And as messed up as it was, you could feel the anger pouring out of you with the way he was gripping at you and the way his mouth moved against yours almost angrily.
✰ ⊹ ˚.
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lyrenminth · 1 day
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JB9 request
They are divorced and have two children together, and he is jealous that she is leaving the kids at his house so she can go on a date. but the meeting was horrible, because the guy is not like Joe
This was a very specific and I had so much fun writing in. A little bit of angst at the end.
What we used to be
The decision for filing the divorce was consciously taken. It was done three years ago, while you went to a rough patch in your marriage. The decision wasn't easy, because you share two children together, and for them was equally hard to understand why mommy and daddy weren't together anymore.
One of the main reasons was after having children, you marriage went cold and dead. He was busy playing football and you were busy mothering a three years old and a nine months old. You didn't have the time to be a couple anymore.
Currently, you decided to start dating again after your friends prompted you to do so. It was difficult because you had to coordinate with Joe (now that you were co-parenting). And of course, was during the off-season because during his seasons you had the kids most of the time. On weekends you dropped the children with Robin so she would take them to the home game. It was a messy life, because you shared a lot of things as a result of the years together. Trying to get rid of Joe was impossible having children with his face and living in Cincinnati. So you made peace with that fact long ago. You got along for the children, he was kind and always asked for your opinion when included the family. And you were polite with him, but nothing else.
You send him a text. "Hey, I'm dropping the kids early this Friday. That's ok?"
Joey B: Yeah, that's ok. Are you busy on Friday?
You: Yeah, something came up. Your home or your parents'?
Joey B: My house. Everything alright?
You: everything alright
That was the last text. After that you waited earnestly for your date. You met John through friends, he seemed like a good guy. By looks, the completely opposite of Joe. John had one child already, and worked for a big company in New York but was living in Cincinnati two years now.
You thought it would be difficult if men knew who was your ex-husband because it had happened one time and it ruin the mood for everyone. Apparently, you completely fucked up or whatever. Well, John didn't know anything about football, he couldn't care less about the Superbowl and that was a pleasant surprise.
So on Friday, you drive Mackenzie and Julian to their dad's house. They were behaving well during all morning. And since it was off-season they could spent the weekend with Joe.
You parked the car, and for your surprise Joe was waiting for them outside.
"Dad!" yelled Julian, running towards Joe who was wearing pants and a hoodie. "Mom, can you help me with my backpack?" asked Mackenzie trying to open the door. You got out of the car, and help her. She made cookies for her dad, and was so happy to share.
You help her to carry the backpack until you were face to face with Joe, who was looking handsome as always.
"Daddy, I made cookies!"
"Daddy, can we play videogames?"
The children demanded attention equally, but Joe was still staring at you. Hard.
"Have I something on my face?" you asked, almost aggressively. You put some make up on and dressed in a nice dress for the occasion.
"No, you fine" he cleared his throat "Not your usual fit"
"Mommy is going on a date" Julian shout, excited. Joe's eyebrows raised, you laughed nervous.
"Well, kids behave well. Enjoy the cookies" you said trying not to look at your ex-husband. "Is that true?" he asked, he sounded kinda jealous. Maybe you were overthinking.
"Well, yes" not wanting to discuss anything further in front of the kids "Take care, Joey"
"Please, call me if you need something" he said, "Let me know you're safe"
Your heart flipped. Why he did those things before your date? Weird. You nodded, going back to the car.
John was a nice man. You were sure he was nice, just...not to you. After thirty minutes in the date he kept talking about himself and his work that you thought you were watching a TED talk. He was good looking, but soon you realize you didn't have anything in common by what he was saying. Your mind wandered to your first date with Joe, it was in a bowling alley. Things got competitive and you spent a really good time together that you hook up in your car after the date. Would you hook up with John? Nah.
"Do you need another drink?" John's voice brought you back from your wild thoughts.
"No, thank you"
"So, you told me your ex-husband was a football player, right?"
"Yes" you said cautiously "He still plays"
"And how do you get along?"
"We talked only for the kids"
"Ummm, sure" he dismissed your answer. You raised your eyebrows, astonished. "What do you mean?" you wondered.
"Nothing. I didn't tell you about this trip I'm going to make next month..." he started talking again.
Joe bought you drinks too. You loved his smile back then. Julian had the same smile actually. After getting married you had very nice dates too, but you loved to spend time at home watching movies and resolving puzzles.
The date went on, and you have to excuse yourself or would die of boredom. After the date you missed your children so much, but it was Joe's time with them. So you went to your house and waited.
On Sunday evening, you went to pick up the kids. After a couple of minutes, Joe appeared wearing shorts and a compression shirt. He looked really handsome, his sandy hair was messy, he looked younger somehow.
"Hey" you said, nervous.
"The kids are in the pool" he explained "Come in while I prepare them"
"Oh, no. I can wait in the car" you replied, pointing at your car. He looked up-and-down, and pressed his lips. You blushed like a teenager "I bet they want to see you"
"Okay" you whispered, follow him inside the house. "How was your date?" the question made you flinch. You didn't remember John at all. "Umm, it was good"
I was bored as hell, and thinking about you. How pathetic.
Silence. By the way he was looking at you, he didn't believe you either. You reach the chicken and he offered something to drink and you decline. "Are you going to the OTAs early this year?" you wondered, hearing music and the children screams outside.
"No, I'm going to spend time with the kids" you nodded, pleased. Joe was a great father, you never doubted that.
You lock eyes, and your stomach made weird things. His eyes softened, and he got closer to you.
"Y/N can we talk about us?" he requested.
"What?" you were in panic mode "About what?"
"The divorce. I thought were struggling but I never listen to you" he said, seriously "Until you fill in the papers" Your heart sank. His lips were still pressed, the wrinkles on his forehead let you know he was stressed too. "I feel like we never had the time to stop and think what we're doing" he said softly.
The bump in your throat didn't let you speak properly. You tried anyway. "I try to speak to you, Joey. I tried to do many things to save our marriage. It didn't work, you were focused on football, and I felt utterly alone" you wipe a treacherous tear "We weren't a couple anymore. I didn't have a partner"
"Mommy! Daddy!" Julian got into the house all wet and hugged you. "Do you want to see how I jump into de pool?"
"Julian, mommy is here to pick you up" Joe explained "Go and tell your sister" Julian nodded and went happily to his sister. Joe attention was on you again. "We should speak about this with more time"
"Why? Are you trying to marry me again?" you joked frustrated he wasn't listening again. "Yes, I never wanted a divorce" he replied ardently. The confession hit you. "Then, why did you fill the divorce?"
"Because I was scared..." the footsteps didn't let him finish "I'll send you a message, please"
You left Joe's house confused and heartbroken. Even though, you couldn't avoid the hope growing in your chest.
Let me know if you want a second part. I think it would be cool.
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ashwhowrites · 2 days
Note
Hi 🫶 may I request a fic where robin and reader are dating. Vickie is starting to show signs that she likes robin and sweet robin is totally oblivious because she is so in love with reader. The reader on the other notices everything and wants to show vickie that robin is her girlfriend and she will never have robin.
I MISS ROBIN! Thank you for asking for her, miss my baby girl. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Lost cause
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Robin met Y/N through Steve, she was an original member of the gang. Robin was horrible with first impressions so it took a while for Y/N to tell if Robin even liked her or not.
But Robin really liked her. She used to roll her eyes when Steve talked about love at first sight. Robin believed that was a bunch of bull. Until she saw Y/N. Robin felt things she never thought were possible. Stuff that she didn't ever feel with her crush on Vickie.
It was like in the movies, where the girl moved in slow motion as she laughed, with her hair flowing and the sun behind her. Y/N had Robin frozen in her spot and Vickie was the last girl on her mind.
Even if Robin did not want to admit it, Steve deserved the credit for them getting together. Robin was too chicken to tell Y/N about her crush, so Steve did it for her. But she was damn excited when Y/N walked up to her and asked her out.
And a few months later, the two were the strongest couple in the gang. They were barely ever apart, tied together as they held hands.
Y/N knew Robin used to have a thing for Vickie, and she tried not to be jealous about it. She knew Robin wasn't interested, but it bothered Y/N how Vickie suddenly was.
What made it worse was that Y/N was a year older than Robin, she graduated with Steve. That meant her girlfriend was alone with Vickie all during the school day. Y/N trusted Robin, but she didn't trust her to understand the difference between being friendly and flirting.
~~~
Robin was barely listening to Vickie, her blue eyes searching the crowd for a familiar face.
"I think the uniform looks really cute on you," Vickie said, she waited for a reaction but it was like Robin didn't hear her.
"THERE SHE IS!" Robin cheered once her eyes found Steve and Y/N walking into the gym.
"Who?" Vickie asked, she followed Robin's eye direction.
"My girlfriend," Robin said with a love-sick sigh. Vickie put on a smile as Steve and Y/N looked over.
Y/N waved and blew a kiss to Robin
Immediately making the short-haired girl blush and send one back
~
"I wonder what they are talking about," Y/N wondered out loud as she watched Vickie and Robin
"Nothing for you to worry about," Steve said as he shrugged. He took a handful of popcorn and handed the box to Y/N
She grabbed a few pieces but kept her eyes on the two girls.
"I know, it's just Robin used to like her. So she obviously finds Vickie attractive."
"Robin liked her, and Robin is in love with you. There's a big difference." Steve said
"Thanks, dingus. State the obvious." Y/N scoffed as she rolled her eyes
"Well, would you look at that! Couples that spend time together become the same person!" Steve mocked
He hissed as she twisted his skin in a pinch
~
"Do you ever worry about them? Like liking each other?" Vickie asked as she watched Steve and Y/N shove each other.
"That's hilarious," Robin laughed. Steve and Y/N? Even the thought of it would make Y/N fall over.
Robin was counting down the seconds of the game, impatiently waiting for it to be over.
"Do you have plans after the game?" Vickie asked
But once the final buzzer went off, Robin was already halfway down the bleachers.
"I guess so," Vickie sighed to herself.
~
Steve and Y/N were talking as Robin walked over.
"See? No reason to be jealous. She's right here!" Steve said, a little too loud that Robin heard.
Y/N laughed uncomfortably as she nudged Steve in the ribs
"Jealous of what?" Robin asked, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend
Y/N hummed into the kiss
"Nothing. Don't listen to him," Y/N said, brushing it off as she stood up
"Ready for dinner?" Y/N asked
"Yes!" Robin said with glee, lacing her hand with Y/N's as the three left the gym. Only Steve noticed that Vickie waved goodbye.
~~~
The school hosted a little fair for fundraising. Y/N wasn't excited about the idea of walking around in the heat with high schoolers but she'd never say no to Robin. Steve tagged along, as he always did.
Y/N clenched her jaw as she saw Vickie walking towards them with a huge smile.
"Rob! You are here!"
Y/N and Steve shared a look as Vickie practically yanked Robin into a hug.
"And I brought Y/N and Steve!" Robin said, moving to hold Y/N's hand.
"I see that!" Vickie said through a tight smile. "Well, I've been dying to try one of the pretzels with cheese, would you want to get one?"
"Oh definitely!" Robin said, "You guys coming?" She asked as she turned to look at Y/N and Steve.
Y/N looked at the line and groaned. "I don't know, that's long as hell."
"I'm thirsty so how about you and I go get drinks and we'll meet you in line?" Steve asked, Y/N wanted to deny the idea but he was already dragging her.
"Steve! I don't want to leave them alone," Y/N said as she kept looking behind her. She growled as Vickie laced her arm with Robin's.
"I know, but you were two seconds away from blowing her head off with your eyes. Let's leave the powers to El."
"That's not funny," Y/N scoffed
"Trust me, Robin is going to come right back to you."
~
Robin waited patiently in the line, her arm hooked with Vickie's so neither would get lost in the crowd.
The line moved a lot faster than they thought, already ordering as Robin stepped forward.
"2 pretzels and one cheese please."
Vickie smiled as Robin paid for the pretzels. She walked out of line and waited on the side with Robin.
Robin thanked the person who handed her the snacks. Robin didn't say anything as she began to look around.
"Will one cheese be enough?" Vickie asked
"Of course, we just share!"
Vickie smiled at the thought of sharing cheese with Robin
~
"Just breathe and let Robin figure it out," Steve advised as they walked to Robin and Vickie. Y/N was pleased to see they were no longer holding each other.
"Got your favorite!" Y/N said as she wiggled the glass bottle of coke.
Robin smiled, "I did too!"
Y/N handed her the coke and Robin handed her the pretzel.
"Wait, the pretzel is for her?" Vickie asked, disappointment in her voice
"Yeah, who else would it be for?" Robin laughed, not knowing her comment made the air awkward. She opened the cheese and held it in her hand for Y/N to dip.
Steve coughed and gave Vickie a small smile.
"I'll wait with you in line," Steve said as he walked into the line, a silent Vickie following.
~~~
Y/N was growing more frustrated with Vickie. It seemed like she either didn't get the hint or didn't care about boundaries at all.
Y/N tried not to get jealous, just breathe like Steve said. But now Y/N believed it was time to show Vickie who Robin belonged to.
They were at a party, no idea whose it was. But Steve was drunk and dancing with a random girl. Y/N and Robin sat on the couch, giggling as the drinks hit their body.
"Can I join?" Vickie's voice cut through their laughter. Y/N rolled her eyes but Robin didn't notice.
"Um yeah, let's make room!" Robin said. She went to scoot over but Y/N grabbed her hand.
"Don't be silly, you can sit right here," Y/N said as she smirked towards Vickie. She grabbed Robin's hips and dragged her right on her lap. Robin blushed, no idea her girlfriend was glaring at Vickie.
Vickie smiled awkwardly and took the seat next to them.
Y/N didn't care about making Vickie uncomfortable, in fact, it was the goal.
Y/N waited a few minutes, letting the girls get into a discussion. Then she softly moved Robin's hair to the side, leaning in and placing delicate kisses on her neck.
Robin stuttered as she tried to talk, the thoughts disappearing as she tried not to moan. She knew it was inappropriate and rude towards Vickie, but she in no way wanted her girlfriend to stop.
Y/N then moved to the other side of Robin's neck. She enjoyed the way Robin melted into her and went silent.
After a while, Y/N let them continue their conversation before she switched to the next thing.
Y/N moved her hands to wrap around Robin's stomach. Then moved them down to her thighs. She softly rubbed Robin's thighs over her jeans.
Robin could barely handle it, jumping up as she squeaked.
"I need to go to the bathroom!"
"I'll go with you," Y/N smirked as she stood up. She grabbed Robin's hand and both giggled as they raced to the bathroom.
Vickie sighed in defeat as she rested her head against the couch.
Steve sighed as he sat down next to her. A look of pity in his eyes.
"Lost cause, you'll never separate those two," Steve said, then he leaned over and his voice got dark and deep.
"And if you keep trying, you'll regret it."
Steve stood up with a proud smile as Vickie gulped. No way he was going to let Robin and Y/N's relationship be sabotaged.
Not on Steve's babysitting duty.
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Full hcs for the m6 with an MC that has chronic pain (I looked through the masterlists and didn't find anything, but it's totally possible that I missed something O///O)
The Arcana HCs: MC with chronic pain
Julian
He devotes his full care and attention to every person in need of a doctor he meets and you are about to get 200% of that
Will do a full examination as soon as you're able to talk to him about it. Give him your medical history, past diagnoses, personal opinions, potential causes, and any other detail you have
Listens to every word, writing them all down so intensely that his handwriting is even less legible than usual
In the moment, there's not much he can do beyond suggesting a few alternate ways of handling it and covering you with kisses and careful, all-encompassing sympathetic hugs
In the long run, chronic pain starts to rival (if not surpass) hematology as his field of study and expertise. Pain management does get easier over time as he learns and applies more
It has also changed how he speaks about pain
The earliest example of which was when he told you that he was "intimately acquainted" with it and you misinterpreted that as him saying that he suffers from it too - you still tease him for that
Your biggest medical advocate & never loses sympathy for you
Asra
They didn't really know how much you suffered from it until your first weeks back, and then they watched as you had to relearn how to live with it. To call it nightmarish would be an understatement
So, so, so many pain easing spells and potions. His collection was already impressive for Nadia's migraines but now it's tripled
Curious to the point of almost seeming insensitive about the sensations you experience. They did, with your permission, try linking to you enough to take them on once
He didn't like it. He can handle physical discomfort well enough but he hates it with a passion and this was a horrible realization
Thoughtful and protective of your right to comfort and access to accommodation, to the point that you sometimes have to remind them that you really can handle it
Asks you every morning and through the day how your pain levels are and will adjust accordingly. Bad pain day? Leave the shop to him, here are some meds, he'll bring you breakfast in a bit
Has been known to use pain transfer spells on rude customers during your flareups - it's two birds with one stone!
Nadia
Had a hunch that it was something you experienced from the moment she met you, if only because she was dealing with constant migraines at the time and recognized the pain
Does her best to hide it from you because she doesn't want to make your pain about herself, but gets frustrated beyond measure about it. She's a fixer, and this is something she can't just fix
She does everything she can for you, of course - opening the Palace doors to anyone with knowledge on the subject, stocking up and giving you access to all of her pain management methods
But it still gnaws at her when she knows you're having a bad pain day and the most she can do is encourage you to rest and have your meals sent to you and try to get extra time to spend with you
Even more proud of you than you can tell (which is very proud). Living in pain the way you do is no easy thing and that pain being largely "invisible" only adds to what you must be going through
Very respectful of your needs. It doesn't matter if she doesn't understand why you need something right away, if you need it, you need it
Muriel
It's not something he'll confess to until you're close enough and he's comfortable admitting it, but he has his own chronic pain from his Coliseum injuries. It's not constant, but it flares up regularly
A poorly healed fracture in his wrist. Some mangled nerve endings from blunt force trauma to his ribs. A wrenched knee that never fully healed and keeps coming back like a sprain
There's another layer to the days he spends hiding in bed, lifting nothing heavier than his tiny carving tools
He never really got much medical attention when the injuries were fresh and he certainly hasn't gotten any for the pain since, but he'll share all the knowledge on natural medicine he has
And nobody knows how physical pain can get into your head like he does. He doesn't always know what to say, but he is dedicated to listening when you're struggling and helping where he can
A little slower at accepting support for his own pain (it's months, if not years, before he's comfortable with being seen for it by a doctor) but he's with you every step of the way. You're not alone
Portia
Portia is excruciatingly empathetic to you and this is not something easy for her to understand or relate to
Pain? Physical pain?? Which you can't control, or point to an obvious/visible/curable source for??? How do you not act like you're in constant pain? How have you not found a cure?
(To say that she cringes when she remembers peppering you with these questions is an understatement. What matters is that she learned and she never doubted you for a second)
She still has difficulty fully comprehending what you're going through, but once she's dragged you to her brother and gotten some action items to follow up with, supporting you gets easier
Checks in with you several times a day on schedule and keeps a list of useful questions to ask so she can understand your pain levels
Always has at least two pain meds on hand in case of a spike or flare up and will scour the markets for any ingredients that she hears will help with pain/nerve damage/inflammation
Will bring Pepi to loaf and purr on you for hours when you need to stay in bed for the day and leaves treats on the bedside table
Lucio
He relates to this more than he wants to, but his own experience is so all over the place he doesn't know how to talk about it
Sure, he had chronic pain when he was a count, it's hard to have an emergency amputation done by an inexperienced student and then a decently weighty metal prosthetic for 20 years without it
But back then he had plenty of doctors and the kinds of resources to make managing it almost easy, not to mention the parties and pleasures he indulged in constantly to distract from it
And then for three years he felt nothing - nothing at all
At this point, he'd choose the pain over the ghost form any day, but that doesn't make it easy. Hearing you talk about your pain openly helps him realize it's possible to live with, even though it's difficult
So that's what he does. He'll live with his pain, and you'll live with your pain, and you'll both wake up to it with each other for company. He can do this
He'll still go as far as threatening any medical experts he finds with their demise if they refuse to see either of you and you're not there to stop him, though
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togament · 7 hours
Text
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“your first kiss with ume went horribly.”
₊˚⊹♡
a/n: 3k words (I’m so sorry) also not proof read. this was written in one sitting pls pls forgive.
warnings: none, just fluff. kotoha’s stressing.
⋆˙⟡♡
You both leaned in at the same time. cheeks flushed and hearts racing while you’re sitting side by side on the bench by his vegetable garden. noses and foreheads knocking against each other because you tilted your head in the same direction. you sneeze because you leaned in a bit too quickly. he offers his hanky just in case but you shake your head, saying it’s alright. he opts to hold your hand instead. you’re both sweating bullets, now dead silent.
-
you wanted to kiss him because he’s been yapping about how his okras have been growing so fast and how the pests have been eating away at his tomato leaves and how Sakura’s been warming up to the others and how the flower seeds you both bought are already sprouting and and and and —
you realize you look forward to each yap session now. you realize he looks a bit more handsome in the sunlight. you realize he’s been walking you home for the past few weeks. you realize you spray way too much perfume when you know you’ll be bumping into him.
you confide in kotoha about it and she nags you, telling you he you obviously like him. you wave her off, saying it’s just a crush. it’ll go away (you’ve been talking about him for months), that he’s like that with everyone. she sighs.
little did you know ume confided in kotoha about the same thing.
-
ume wanted to kiss you because he’s been dropping you hints for the last few months. horribly, by the way. kotoha nags him about it too, saying he should just show up at your doorstep and tell you straight up with a bouquet in hand. he has. but his first confession flew over your head and instead of flowers, he gave you flower seedlings (they’re growing on your windowsill). then he proceeds to moan and groan about you to her, wondering how he’s gonna get through to you, that maybe he’s doing too much, maybe he’s doing too little, maybe you like someone else and and —
he’s yapping now.
kotoha lets out another sigh.
-
now you and ume are both sitting there, noses reddened, cheeks flushed, hands on top of each other and sweating.
ume’s starting to overthink again, ready to pull away and talk about other things to ease the tension.
you beat him to it, though.
you nervously lean on his shoulder and you swear you felt him jump. he melts into it, running his thumb over your knuckles and he smiles softly to himself.
this is really happening.
you glance up at him and he’s already staring down at you with the softest eyes. you can almost hear his heart racing. or is that yours?
his voice is softer now. one trembling hand holding your hand tightly and another is pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers ghost the skin of your cheek as he stammers,
“can I please kiss yo—“
“please.”
you respond before he even finishes his sentence. you smile up at him. he chuckles, holding his hand against your cheek and he whispers a soft celebratory “yes!”.
you tilt your head just right now and he does as well.
he finally kisses you.
and you swear you can feel him smiling against your lips.
you are too.
your first kiss with ume went horribly.
but he wouldn’t want it any other way.
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a/n: whew. this was supposed to be a short drabble. ume kisses go brr. also poor kotoha.
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princessamericachavez · 17 hours
Text
Say Don’t Go | 911 7x10 spec
Based on the stills and my brain not shutting up
“I hate you!”
Christopher’s voice resonates through the hallway until his door slamming cuts it off. Eddie flinches and Buck’s heart breaks.
“Chris-“
Eddie moves half a step forward and Buck stops him by the shoulder before he can go after his son. It’s not going to help. If he knows anything about angry teenagers (having been one particularly angry himself) is that Chris needs a moment away from his dad.
The problem are those big brown eyes. Because when Eddie looks back at him, so lost and heartbroken and desperate, Buck knows he has to do something. Because this is wrong, it’s just wrong, and Buck knows he cannot fix everything for the people he loves but he cannot —will not— stop trying no matter how impossible it feels.
“Let- let me try and talk to him,” Buck asks.
“What?”
Helena and Ramon both turn to him with equal disbelief, but Buck doesn’t even bother looking at them. They’ve been so ready to take this opportunity to rip Chris away from Eddie. And, sure, they are worried and Eddie should’ve handled this a lot better, but they aren’t even giving him the chance. So he doesn’t look at them, he keeps his eyes on Eddie who gives him the smallest, pleading, nod.
That’s all Buck needs. With one final squeeze, he lets go of Eddie and moves across the living room with long strides before the Diaz’s can stop him.
Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to intervene? How dare he even be here? Whatever they are thinking, comes second to Chris and Eddie.
Buck knocks gently on the door.
“Go away!”
“H-hey, buddy, it’s me. Can I come in?”
There’s a long terrifying pause that nearly shatters what’s left of Buck’s heart before the reluctant “okay.”
With a relieved sigh, he pushes in.
Christopher is sitting on the edge of his bed, a packed backpack by his side. For a second, Buck thinks of another day, years ago, when he found him just like this. Back then, Buck’s biggest fear was that Eddie’s heart would stop. Today, he’s terrified it will break beyond repair.
“Hey, Chris.”
“Hey, Buck,” he says, looking down at his hands.
Awkwardly, Buck makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge next to the boy. He’s so big now, older and taller, but he can still see the same child that had to comfort him after the shooting.
“Chris, are you sure about this? Leaving your dad, even if it’s just for a while… that’s not going to fix things between you.”
“I don’t want to fix them,” Chris snaps, sharply. “He lied to me! He lied to Marisol, to you, he lied to everyone!”
And that’s not something Buck can argue.
“Yeah, he- he screwed up, Chris, but you need to understand.”
“I understand! Why would he that! He’s- he always told me to tell the truth and to be good but he was a liar.”
“Hey, hey, that’s- that’s not fair. One mistake doesn’t make him a liar. He just- listen, Chris, you know your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world, right?”
He’s met with silence.
“Right?”
Chris gives a noncommittal shrug.
“Right,” Buck nods. “Because he does. And he would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”
“But he did! It hurt! Seeing her and thinking it was her… it hurt, Buck.”
“I know, buddy… I do. I just- I meant, he would never hurt you on purpose.”
“He had to know it would hurt.”
“He did. Which is why he lied…”
Christopher huffs and Buck has the horrible feeling he’s not being as helpful as he hoped. What was he thinking? Just because he loves Chris with his whole heart it doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about being a parent. He only knows what Eddie taught him.
The memory hits home like a wave. Sunlight, a warm hand on his shoulder, his heart twisting from guilt to relief and to something bigger he couldn’t name.
“You know, your dad isn’t perfect.”
“No, he isn’t,” Chris scoffs.
“He isn’t perfect,” Buck repeats, tone pleading Chris to let him finish, “and he knows it. He told me once himself, that he’s failed many times as your dad. But he also said that he loves you enough to never give up, to never stop trying to be better… for you.”
Chris is quiet, but by the way his shoulders hunch and his head tilts, Buck thinks he might be getting to him. So he pushes on.
“And- and the thing is, Christopher, your dad is very hurt right now. It’s- it’s nothing like the time he was shot… it’s something… deeper, older. Because, you see, when Shannon- when your mom died, it really hurt your dad. He loved her so much… and I don’t think he ever healed from it, not really. I think that’s why he did all this. Because he’s in pain…”
Christopher peers at Buck from under his curly fringe, reluctantly making eye contact.
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t. But- but I think your dad really needs us right now. He- he needs you,” he corrects quickly. “This time, I think your dad needs you not to give up on him.”
“But I’m still mad.”
“And- and that’s okay. You can be mad. You get to be angry or sad or confused, I just- I just hope you can fight for your dad, like he does for you. Because, Chris, if he loses you… I think the pain will be too much this time.”
Chris is quiet. And Buck is exhausted.
“I don’t wanna make you feel responsible for him, Christopher. I promise, whatever you choose, I’ll have his back and make sure he is okay. I just- I think he needs both of us right now.”
“Why are you defending him? Aren’t you mad too? He lied to you too.”
“I- yeah, he did. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. I’m not quitting on him, he’s never given up on me.”
“Hmmm.”
It takes a couple minutes before Chris decides to get back up. Buck stays only because he isn’t asked to leave and, only when he sees the boy step outside does he dare follow cautiously.
In the living room, whatever Eddie was talking in hushed tones with his parents dies down immediately. He only has eyes for his son as he approaches.
“Mijo-“
“You have to promise that it won’t happen again,” Christopher demands, voice shaky. “You need to try to do better and you have to promise that you won’t lie to me again.”
Eddie walks towards his son like he is in a dream, eyes tearful. Buck can see him trembling even from afar, where he’s found a corner to tuck himself into and disappear.
“Christopher,” Eddie says, kneeling before his son and gently holding him, “I swear- te lo juro por mi vida. I will do better. I will- I will be better for both of us. I will spend every day trying to be a better father for you.”
“Okay,” Chris says.
“Okay?”
“I’m staying.”
Eddie leans forward to hug his son, but is met with a gentle push back.
“I’m still mad at you, dad.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Of course,” Eddie mumbles, but the relief in his voice is still palpable.
Eddie looks past Chris’s shoulder and his eyes find Buck. The look in his face… Buck knows Eddie like the back of his hand but he cannot quite place what it is. Thankfulness and relief and hope… but there’s something else behind it that makes Buck’s heart twist painfully.
So Buck looks away, tries to find something —anything— else to focus on and lands on the Diaz’s faces. Eddie’s parents look at him with… well, it isn’t quite anger, but there’s a confusion there and a bewilderment that somehow makes Buck even more uncomfortable. He ducks his head and beelines for the kitchen. He should let them be alone…
“Buck!” Eddie is rushing after him before he can get to the door.
When he turns around, he finds Eddie standing there, shaking and shocked. Buck waits, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have any more idea than he does about what he planned to say next.
“Sorry, I- I should probably go.”
Eddie takes a step forward, with that look still on his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Buck goes on. “Just- just be with your son tonight.”
“You sure? You could stay.” Eddie steps closer.
“No, it’s- it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude, with your family-“
“Buck-“
“And Tommy is waiting at my place, so…”
Eddie stops. He blinks.
“Right, yeah. Of course. Just- I- Thank you.”
Buck smiles, even if the air between them still feels charged.
“I have your back, Eddie. Always.”
And before anything else can get his head spinning he steps out the back door. Only once outside does he stop and finally breathe. That was… that felt like… but it cannot be. It wasn’t. Even if Eddie looked like he wanted to-
No, of course not. Better get going, before his heart can manage to fool itself once again.
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dunmeshistash · 20 hours
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I really enjoy your deep dives and analyses of all the characters, and Milsiril especially. I haven't done as much research and investigation as you have, but I have my own ideas about Milsiril. I think she's rather... delusional might be the word? I agree that Otta was probably exaggerating and she didn't actually consider the children that she adopted as pets, but I think that she didn't have what we might consider a normal perception of the children, specifically Kabru.
First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world. Her decision to train him when he asks is far from complete acceptance of his goal. What she says is "until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.
Secondly, I think that there's a lot of symbolism around the dolls. Bear in mind that these are all my own interpretations. First off, Milsiril's love and friendship for her dolls shows her as almost a child-like figure. Her dolls do what she wants them to, but they're people to her. She's a child in her own little world, and the kids she adopts might be a part of that-playmates, just like her dolls are. Bear in mind that I'm not trying to infantilize her or say that she has one, straightforward motivation. One of the things I love about Dungeon Meshi is how complex every single character is. She probably has many driving forces behind adopting children, but it seems to me like this might be one of them.
That's about all I have for her, at least at the moment. I think she might have some underlying mental illness or trauma that's skewing her perception of things, but I definitely don't agree with the people who think she's completely unstable or immoral. Thanks for looking at this!
Hey! Thank you!
Yeah I think the dolls is what lots of people use to say she likes to "manipulate" people or be in charge of them in a way, and I understand the symbolism of a puppet master since she has full control of these dolls and wont deny that might be something!
I'm not sure if I agree with this part tho.
First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world.
I think Milsiril mostly can't keep up with Kabru getting older so fast since he's short lived, to me its almost like she sees him as a toddler when he's already a teen. And that's a common issue between long and short lived races so it's not something unique to her.
To me the reason she's so upset seems to be trauma from Utaya tbh. She was there and saw all those horrible things happen, it affected her so much she retired, and Kabru is the only survivor, a small frail child that lost everything and that now she sees like a son. Wouldn't you want to protect someone you see as a small scared child? Wouldn't you be upset if you learned they want to leave the comfort and safeness you created for them to go back into the horrible world that caused all that suffering he went through? I would.
I think people forget she's basically a war veteran.
She might not know him very well especially now that he left home but I think she knows him about as well as moms usually do, if you mean the cake thing I'm pretty sure she was aware Kabru didn't like elf cake and it's just a silly gag about her being upset he doesn't like her hometown sweet. (And probably also to show he does struggle with having two different backgrounds, Utaya and Milsiril) I think she knows he doesnt like it cause Kabru is never fake in front of her in the interactions we see, I'm pretty sure he tells her when he dislikes something and when he likes something. The other proof is how she took him to the family gathering even tho he didn't explicitly ask, she knew he wanted to go cause she knows that's the type of thin he likes.
About this
That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.
Yeah that's completely right! But I see that as an act of love on her part, even if its misguided and like, not great. She wants to prove to him he's too weak to go on his own because she seems him as a small child. If a 5 year old asked you to teach them to be a soldier so they can go to war how would you feel?
He isn't 5 tho and he clearly COULD take the training. Nothing indicates he ran away from her to be able to go and he talks about how she trained him and helped him study all that he wanted.
So even tho she said something bad and wanted to convince him the world out there was too cruel, she ultimately let go of him so he could do what he needed.
And Kabru even acknowledges she was right, the world WAS as shitty as she described and even worse. When he says he still doesn't want to go back where he has a soft bed and cake I don't think it's because he hated it there, but because he has the determination to face the cruel world she described cause he doesn't want Utaya to happen again.
Again about the dolls I think they're a source of comfort for her, she was clearly traumatized and going thru something her whole life, you don't get nicknamed "gloomy" for no reason, even her fellow canaries bullied her and thought she was weird.
The children she adopts might be an evolution of her doll thing I'll admit. But more in the sense they're a source of comfort for her, she was someone who was alone for most of her life, being able to love and be loved by children is probably something that makes her really happy. Even if her "motives" might be a little weird and she might not be fully altruistic (who is) what she does seem to be a net positive. Considering the two people we know that she helped (Mithrun and Kabru) she successfully helped them become independent of her. They were both vulnerable people in her care at one point but both are now independent and navigating life. (Mostly independent in Mithruns case but he doesn't need her in specific) That's my arguments to why she doesn't really treat real people as dolls, dolls can never become independent of you.
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ethereallocs · 3 days
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I Will Break You Chp.3
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen (Pirate) x Fem OC (Mermaid/Siren)
Content/Warning(s): !!18 PLUS!!, Non-Con/ Dub-Con, Violence, p in v penetration,Descriptions of Blood/Violence, Abduction, Obsession, Toxic.
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Chapter 3.
Days had past since she saw him last. The bastard he took it upon himself to take what was hers. She despised him. She was losing her mind in that room with four stone walls and the tiniest window to see the ocean waiting for her. At night when the moon was high she could hear her sisters calling to her; crying out for her. Every night she cried out for them. Her heart pulling in anguish with each day that past where she didn’t feel the water on her skin to roam the vast sea and discover things that humans left behind. She was becoming depressed. Her eyes sunken in from her sleepless nights. Her skin pale almost green she hadn’t eaten since she had been there refusing to nourish herself. He was not going to enjoy his hostage if she had anything to say about it.
Lydia had come back each day to deliver her meals and to make her presentable for the day only dressing her in light weight dresses and brushing her hair just to tame it slightly but still let it run thick along her back. She smiled knowing that Aemond had what he called a gift in store for her. Lydia had discussed it with her master for quite sometime after letting him know how horrible she was doing stuck in that room. So he figured he should let her get some fresh air. With the moon high and shining against the calmed sea Aemond came into her chambers wearing a loose poet blouse that opened slightly at his chest. She looked terrible and he would be lying if he said the sight he saw didn’t pull at his heart strings, but his obsession with her clouded his judgement. She heard the clicking of his boots hitting the hardwood floors and she flinched wondering what he had in store for her. Lydia had tried to manage her hair and make look somewhat presentable but she could not hide the clear depression that settled into the poor girls bones. He sighed thinking of what to say, “Lydia let me know of the state you were in and after all her convincing I thought it would be nice to take a walk on the beach for a little while.” Hearing the words beach…a walk…she perked up knowing her sisters were always waiting for her maybe this could be her chance…she calmed down and decided to play her part. She put on an adoring smile and spoke gently. “I would like that very much..”, it hadn’t been long but it didn’t take her long to fully understand their language after only a few days. He smiled at how that seemed to cheer her spirits but he knew that would be short lived as he began to pull the shackles from behind his back. He could see the light that just appeared in her eyes quickly fade away and the smile she wore did as well. “oh…” was all she said. “I know it seems barbaric, but I cannot have you trying to leave me…now can I my sweet little siren?” He reached out for her his rough hand claiming her cheek and she flinched away feeling its warmth. She wanted to hiss and claim one of those fingers. She could imagine his blood curdling screams…but she understood this would not help her. She simply held her hand out for him and he took no time tether himself to her.
After leaving her chambers they traveled down to the shore she could smell the sea and the smell of salt in the air. She felt at peace only to be pulled from when he yanked at the chain that bounded her to him. She felt the cool sand between her toes and though she was happy to even be this close her heart still yearned to return home. Aemond stood in silence enamored by her beauty and the way she looked as she stood in silence taking in the scenery. “breathtaking…” he whispered to himself, but he was broken from his trance as the sound of siren singing in the distance caught his attention. He looked to her and saw the look of longing in her eyes…her foot subconsciously took a step forward and he braced himself. Tears welling in her eyes as she called back out to them. The beckoned her and cried out for her in sadness and she looked back at him her eyes blown wide in desperation. She let out a mind curdling screech and pulled away from him with all her might and though she was weak she was stronger than he anticipated. “NO!!!” He screamed out to her pulling back, but she continued forward dragging him with her. “If you won’t let me go I will take you with me…” she grunted lowly as her sisters frenzied within the water waiting for her to come back and waiting to kill the man who took her away from them. Aemond called for help which alerted a few of his men nearby and she was on a mere inch away she began to run pulling the chain to drag him with her frantically looking around to see them closing in. She fell to her knees once she was surrounded and sobbed. “I just want to be free….” Were her last words before she felt a sharp pain in her head and everything went black.
When she came to she saw Aemond hovering over her with a look of distain in his eyes. “I will admit I underestimated you…that won’t happen again I assure you…how could you want to leave me after that special night we shared…I know you feel it too…I saw it in your eyes…I saw it…” she hissed at him and screamed in frustration. “Special? You mean the night you took me without my consent or the night you took me from the sea….both were not special…you are a mad man. I want to go home can’t you see this is killing me…I will die in here…please.” She sat up and reached for him, her eyes pleading for freedom…and he couldn’t help but feel she was right but this obsession with her would not let him do it. “I can’t…you belong with me…” He had that look in his eyes again and he stepped toward her his hands finding her thighs and she scrambled away trying to make herself smaller into the bed and he took a hold of her ankles pulling her to the edge of the bed. “You are mine…I will have you..I will break you….you will not escape me…I will make you love me…want me…” he held himself in between her legs and and whispered within her ear biting at the flesh of her neck. “You will love every inch of me…you will know where home is it is not out there it is here with me.” He quickly unbuckled his breeches letting them pull at his ankles. He grabbed her throat and rubbed his cock between her damp folds groaning at the warmth of her cunt. He sighed in relief as he entered her core burying himself into her and she inhaled sharply. She stretched around him so beautifully and once he gained his composure he began to pump into her his face still buried into neck. “Mine…all mine…I will break you…break you..” he whispered over and over like a prayer as he held her legs to her chest. She was fighting the pleasure…fighting with the feeling of coming undone for him. Fighting against how good his cock hit every part of her insides just right. “no…please…” he groaned her pleading only arousing him more. “Even in distress you sound so beautiful…sing for me..my darling siren…” she held onto him moans escaping her, her body betraying her. Her back arched and before she could thinks she cumming her body shook in the aftermath of her orgasm and he wasn’t too far behind. He picked up the pace and with one harsh thrust he pressed the head of his cock against her cervix and filled her with his seed. He kissed her lips and for a second she forgot her hatred for him and kissed him in return. He laid with her for a while until she finally pulled away and became distant again. He sighed and stood up getting dressed. Leaving her he looked back wondering if it was worth it…she would still be miserable even if she learned to love him would he still be able to make himself believe she was happy here…he shook the thoughts away and left to do more research on her kind…determined to find away.
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samgirl98 · 2 days
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Mending a Family 38/?
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Jason’s guilt grew as he entered his newly restored Mustang.
He had finished fixing her up that day and had been excited to take his little family around the village.
And he had. He had put Danny in a booster seat and Ellie in a car seat and taken a drive with Jazz in the passenger seat. They made it a family day, ate out, sang out of tune with whatever song came on the radio, and had a good time.
Then, they got home, Danny fell asleep, and Jason started feeling down.
He had no idea why he had bouts of depression, but they were starting to become annoying. Well, they would be if he had the space to feel annoyed.
Jason rubbed his chest. It hurt as if someone was squeezing his heart.
Jason turned on the car and felt the soft purr. He stayed in the car, not daring to move. Why couldn’t he feel happy all the time? Why was he thinking about his old family so much? Every time he felt miserable about his old family, he felt guilty. It felt as if he was betraying his current family.
Jason was so lost in his negative thoughts he didn’t notice Jazz until she entered the passenger side.
“Jazz, what are you doing here? Are the kids alone?”
Jason was about to leave the car when Jazz pulled out a baby monitor.
“I got it covered,” she said, “Besides, nobody can come through our haunt without us knowing.”
Jason said nothing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” came his automatic response. Jazz raised an eyebrow.
“Uh-huh. Sure, I believe that, big brother.”
Silence reigned for a while. The chirping of the crickets was the only thing that could be heard.
“Am I a bad person for missing them so much? I love you guys, and you are the best things that have ever happened to me, but when I’m alone with my thoughts and emotions, I can’t help—I miss them but feel like I’m betraying what we have. What we found.”
Jason let his head fall on the steering wheel. The ache in his chest grew. He wanted his family to be whole again. Jason could picture it in his mind’s eye. Danny surrounded by the Waynes. Danny being spoiled by his aunts and uncles. By the Ancients, he wanted that. He wanted Danny to have cousins, aunts, and uncles.
Jason wanted his older jackass of a brother. He wanted his grandfather…He wanted his dad.
He wanted his family whole. No, his family was whole already.
What was he thinking? What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he satisfied with the family he had?
“We have a theory,” Jazz said, putting her hand on Jason’s head and giving soft scratches. It felt nice. “Danny and I think your obsession is family. Until you can have every last person you consider family surrounding you, well, you won’t feel complete.”
Jason snorted. It made sense, but Ancients, did his obsession have to be something he couldn’t have?
“So basically, my obsession is unreachable. They’ll never take me back. And if I do return, they’ll try to take Danny away from me. They’ll consider me unstable, too much of a monster to raise a child.”
Jazz said nothing. Jason raised his head and stared at the woman who had become his younger sister. Someone Jason could trust.
“I miss mom and dad sometimes, too,” Jazz whispered, “not for the people they turned out to be, but for who they once were.”
Jazz smiled bittersweetly and turned toward Jason, “Do you think me a bad person for missing them?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” was his automatic response.
“Then why don’t you give yourself that same leeway? My parents have done horrible things; they tried to kill Danny! Yet, I still miss them. Family is complicated, Jason. Emotions are even more so. Don’t blame yourself for what you’re feeling, and don’t feel like you’re betraying us because you want what you used to have. We understand.”
“You’re all too good for me.”
Jazz slapped the back of his head. Jason yelped out in surprise.
“And stop thinking you don’t deserve to be happy. You have a family, even if it’s incomplete.”
“No, you guys are enough,” Jason refuted.
Jazz smiled sadly and kissed his cheek.
“I’m going inside. Remember, don’t feel bad for your emotions, Jason. If I’m allowed to miss my old family, so are you.”
Jason said nothing. He watched Jazz enter the house, lost in his thoughts.
How nice it would be to integrate his old family with his new one, but if he tried, he would lose what he had built.
“Suck it up, Todd; you have a great family now. Forget about your old one.”
Jason turned off the car, phased through it, and returned to the house. The ache in his chest still throbbed.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. He looked out into the darkness and felt watched. There was no one there. Jason gave one more uneasy look into the forest and went inside.
____
Tim couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Tim had a facial recognition program running 24/7. After a few weeks of the program running, he had a match.
La Petite Académie would like to thank Peter “Jay” Nightingale for his generous donation to the school. Two benches will be built in his honor.
Tim observed the picture. Jason had dyed his head red and glared at the camera as his picture was taken. He held a plaque with the school’s name, address, and Jason’s alias.
He broke into the school’s files and read about Daniel Nightingale. He had the highest marks in his class and was considered exceptionally smart. Jason had donated fifteen thousand dollars to the school and seemed to be an active participant in school activities. Jazz Nightingale was put in as an emergency contact, and he found phone numbers. Most important, though, was the address listed on the record.
Tim had a lead. His next stop would be Tadoussac, Canada.
I'm so sorry if this wasn't up to my usual standard. I needed to move the plot along. On the plus side, I know how I want the story to go and end. On the downside, I see an end, which means my time with this fic is coming to a close.
Anyway, I hope you liked
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