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#it like showed how many tickets were left
housestone-ivygrows · 2 years
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love a good nightmare about trying to get tour tickets
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farawayfromthemoon · 1 year
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vanishingcherry · 9 months
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YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.
masterlist
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.
"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.
"And I'm Charles"
"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"
You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.
"Are you ready?"
"Is that the first question?" he retorts.
Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."
"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."
You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.
"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?
He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."
You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"
"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.
"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."
Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.
"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"
He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.
"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."
"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.
"Fine. Uh, AUS23."
"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.
"Then what? I know its not Miami."
"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.
You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"
You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."
He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."
Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."
Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."
"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"
"Left."
"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"
"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."
You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"
He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"
"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."
"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.
"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.
"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."
He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."
"What was I wearing on our first date?"
You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."
His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"
"A lot of things, Char."
"Is that your final answer, cherie?"
"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."
"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.
"How many kids do I want?"
"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"
"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"
"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."
His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.
"What is one my hidden talents?"
You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.
"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"
The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.
"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."
Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."
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Comments:
charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME
ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me
username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have
doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts
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maxwellatoms · 24 days
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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
Okey dokey.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.
The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.
Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.
A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.
I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.
Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.
Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
It's the only way to get anything done, currently.
The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".
It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.
There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.
Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)
The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.
Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.
Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.
I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.
Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?
You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.
To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.
I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.
Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.
I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.
The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.
The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.
---
So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.
Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.
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sunboki · 5 months
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⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction
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🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences
WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read
WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk
AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.
or alternatively :
Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?
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Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.
How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?
As for yours, it’s fairly simple.
Where did we go wrong?
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December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.
Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.
And so, you replaced it.
Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.
Until you met Seungmin.
He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.
But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.
Longing.
He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.
Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.
“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“
“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.
Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.
Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.
If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.
You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.
Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.
It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.
Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.
And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.
“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.
“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”
A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.
Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.
He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.
Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.
Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.
Guilty.
“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”
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December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.
Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.
Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.
He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.
What you used to be.
Lovers.
Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.
But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.
What a lie.
Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.
Starting with a text.
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He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.
Paris.
Paris?
Paris.
It hits him, evidently.
Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.
Months ago, he remembered.
You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.
It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.
Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.
What were the chances?
Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.
Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?
“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.
He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.
He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.
“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”
Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.
‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.
How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.
Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.
Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.
Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.
“.. What am I gonna do?”
“Suck it up, duh.”
“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”
The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.
"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"
“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.
Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?
Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.
Minho sighs.
"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."
For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.
From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.
But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.
What were the chances?
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There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.
Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.
Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.
Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.
And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.
Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.
Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.
He looks up.
You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.
And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.
It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.
Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.
Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.
For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.
Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.
Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.
You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.
Perfect opposites, exactly.
Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.
Three little words.
I love you.
You lied.
Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.
Big words he didn’t return.
Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.
And you left.
You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.
Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?
Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.
You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.
Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.
He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.
That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.
But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.
In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.
And it fucking hurt remembering that.
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December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.
The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.
Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.
The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.
Him.
“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.
Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.
“Do you remember the tickets?”
Hatred seemed the dominant factor.
“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.
Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?
He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”
It takes you a moment, then, aha.
How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.
”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”
Huh.
“WHAT?!”
You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.
Or so you thought.
You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.
You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.
And so, you dealt with it.
In ways.
Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.
A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.
Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.
And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.
Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.
You were wrong.
Not the first time that’s happened.
“Hi Hyunjin.”
Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.
Never had it felt so terrifying.
“Hey.”
You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.
“Are we…Are we doing this again?”
He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.
“I don’t know. You decide for me.”
Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.
Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.
But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.
“You know I can’t make big decisions.”
That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.
“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.
“Because I want better for us.”
“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.
“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”
There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.
You don’t want to think about that.
“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.
“Anything.”
“If I cry, will you hug me?”
“Do you want that?”
Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.
Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.
He knows the answer.
You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.
Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.
He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.
And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.
What a shame.
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Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.
The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.
Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.
One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.
“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.
Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.
Cupid really needs to give up by now.
You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”
Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.
“…Who broke up with who?”
Asshole.
Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.
Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.
Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.
“No ginger ale?”
You wrinkle your nose.
“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.
“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.
The ex you were very much over.
Right.
Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.
So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.
You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.
Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.
Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.
Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.
Bullshit.
Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.
Let’s just hope you can land first.
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December 23nd – Paris, France.
His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.
It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.
Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.
Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.
Guess you’ll just have to make due.
Lovely.
“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.
Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.
Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.
To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.
Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.
“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.
You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.
“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”
That’s it.
“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”
“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”
He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.
Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.
“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”
Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.
It makes you sick to your stomach.
You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”
Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.
You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.
For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.
Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.
You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.
“Fuck! Get out!”
Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.
Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.
“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”
“GET OUT!” You scream.
“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.
And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.
Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.
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Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.
He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.
The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.
“C’mon, just one?”
You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.
It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.
Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.
“Fine, one.”
Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.
“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.
Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.
It hurts.
“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”
“What was that?”
The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.
“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.
Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.
A harsh slam that never happens.
You cautiously open an eye.
“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.
You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.
Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.
“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.
“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.
From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.
Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.
Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.
“Can I at least carry you?”
Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.
Insane. He’s officially gone insane.
So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.
Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.
“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.
You missed his laugh.
And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).
Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.
Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.
His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.
He’ll sleep on the floor.
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December 24th – Paris, France.
Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).
This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.
You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.
Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.
Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.
Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.
Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.
He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.
“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”
With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.
Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.
A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.
He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.
What a coincidence.
You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.
Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.
“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.
Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.
This adjustment was his hair.
Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.
“You used to love it when I grew it out.”
He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.
“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”
This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.
Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.
“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”
There’s your breaking point.
He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.
Right. Across. The face.
He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.
“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.
You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.
“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.
“Listen.”
“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.
“Listen.”
You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.
He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.
“I love you.”
You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.
Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.
He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.
You want to hide.
Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.
Cruel.
“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”
He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.
“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”
It’s hypocritical, you know.
Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.
Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.
He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.
His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.
Guess some things never change.
Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.
And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.
Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.
Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.
Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.
He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.
Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.
“I really don’t want to lose you.”
And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.
Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.
You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.
But in love. So very in love.
For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.
This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.
“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”
Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.
In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.
Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.
Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.
Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.
And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.
Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.
And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.
No, you’re certain of it.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff
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lani-heart · 1 month
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au p aring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mention of sex / pregnancies, etc. words -> 2.3K
abstract -> Never owe people favors it could one day cost you your life...
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y/n’s perspective
“Taeyong, you can’t be serious,” I said as I was now in the office of the devil himself. And he's called to get his end in a favor. “You owe me,” he said and I scoffed. 
“You’re literally chasing in a favor from when I was in college,” I said and he only grinned. “You still owe me. Besides, it shouldn't be dangerous” and I scoffed at his reassurance. 
“It's just an interview. You’ll wear a wire, and all I need is evidence” he asked and I sighed. “Fine. But I won't risk my life for this, Taeyong” I said and he nodded. 
“I would never put you in a dangerous situation. This won’t hurt you”
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“Do you have to do this? Or at least take one of us with you?” Yeosang asked and I shook my head. “I have to repay him. He helped me a lot in college… besides he's trying to do a good thing” I explained and they sighed. “You’ll be okay right?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged me tightly. 
“Of course, he explained that I'll be going in for an interview and he’ll be listening in case. He will only interfere once he's gotten information though, so I won't be in danger. This won't affect us” I assured them and they nodded. 
“Be careful, circus hybrids are some of the most deprived and abused hybrids” San warned and I nodded. Over the years people stopped performing with animals and advanced to hybrids because of their ability to be trained and have a human way of thinking
Even though many people thought it was better it's not too well known that it's abusive to them just repeating history. “Be careful” they said as I was now on the elevator waving bye to the boys. 
They've really grown. 
I’ve officially had San and Wooyoung for five months. Whilst Yeosang joined us two months ago. It's actually been seven months since I originally adopted Son. I couldn’t be happier to have them by my side. 
Now I had to pay my debt to the devil named Taeyong. He truly does hold grudges… 
I walked into the VIP line where I showed my journalist ticket. I would be able to take pictures, and even conduct an interview. As I walked in I noticed the hybrids on display. 
There were two specifically at the entrance. They had bold big letters ‘MATZ’. They were meant to sit there in a glass box… it didn’t even have enough room to walk one step. In a smaller print were their names. 
Seinghwa was the one smiling and bowing, whilst Hongjoong only stared. He would be too far down, he could probably be dangerous. The ones around me started flashing lights at them… it clearly bothered them. I made sure to ask Taeyong to give me a camera without a flash. I took a photo of the surroundings. Another reason why he had me do this job and not Mark was because I have a hybrid specialist license to see and even handle red-coded hybrids with supervision. 
I knew how to analyze their behaviors. So when I saw Hongjoong, he had the potential to be a black code hybrid. 
“Hello! Welcome, it's an honor to see such esteemed guests !! I hope you may enjoy the show !--” as he spoke I saw his ringmaster look. He had jesters and clown costumed people handle hybrids. A few were assigned to cuff and ensure ‘MATZ’ did not act out.
They were tigers and therefore dangerous. 
“-- Of course, if you need help please ask one of my staff. I look forward to the interviews I’m scheduled for” he said as he left. As the staff looked at our tickets I was led to the back. I was given a pre / post-interview. 
“Hello, I’m going to be conducting an interview?” I said as I now saw the ringleader with the two tigers. They had chains connecting to their collar which looked like ones that were for black code hybrids. 
“Ah yes, may I ask which firm it is under?” he asked and I nodded. “It would be under the N.E.O. Firm” I stated and he nodded. 
“I see. How is Moon Taeil?” he asked and I smiled. “He’s actually on vacation at the moment. Last I heard he was in China visiting a few friends. '' I answered and he chuckled. 
“I know, your firm isn’t too keen on me,” he said and I noticed the curious eyes of the tigers. “Well, the firm has hybrid rights associated. It has been for years now” I answered and he nodded with calculating eyes. 
“That it is. Though I can assure you, our hybrids are treated like family” he said and I smiled softly as I wrote down notes of the two hybrids behind him. They were clearly agitated by his words, almost like he was lying.
“Well then. What are your questions?” he asked politely. “How many hybrids currently do you have registered?” I asked and he nodded. “Around fifty dear,” he said and I nodded. “And all are vaccinated with the current hybrid regulations, health up-to-date, VISA’s registered?” I asked and he answered yes. 
So he denied hybrid trafficking, and hybrid health neglect.
“May I ask you to talk about MATZ?'' I asked and he nodded. “These two were born into the circus. Their parents are a mix from our circus and a breeder which I know personally” he explained and I saw how Seonghwa kept on staring at my coat. His ears were twitching and I noticed Hongjoong’s glare at me….
“These two are such close friends we thought that a show would be most beneficial and fun for them,” he said while lifting his hands to pet their heads making them both clearly uncomfortable. Seonghwa stared wearily whilst Hongjoong looked like he could bite any minute.
“May I ask if I own hybrids?” He asked and I contemplated. “Decline anything in your personal life” I heard on the headpiece Taeyong gave me.
“No, I do not,” I said and he nodded. “Are you against the ownership?” He asked and I shook my head. “Not necessarily… it would take a lot of circumstances for me to adopt a hybrid,” I said and the ringmaster only nodded. 
“I can assure you every hybrid here is taken care of, and we’ll look after it, '' he said and I noticed Seonghwa's gaze. It wasn’t like Hongjoong’s glare; it was almost like he was pleading for help. 
“What’s the situation with heats?” I asked and he chuckled… “I don’t believe in heat suppressants. I let them go on with it with the other gender hybrid” he explained. 
Meaning it's how he has so many hybrids… he’s illegally breeding them. “Are you not worried about pregnancies?” I asked.
“No… some of our female hybrids are sterile so they can’t reproduce either way” he explained.
It wasn’t abuse per se to sterilize a hybrid… but it was being argued for hybrid rights.
“How long have you had this duo?” I asked curious. “Hmm, these two rascals? Well, they were born in 1998 and they’ve been with me since then.” He said and I nodded.
Would they speak out against their master? They would’ve seen everything… been through… everything.
“Sir?” I heard a clown asking for the attention of his boss. “Ah give me a moment my dear, why not have an exclusive interview with a MATZ performer. Hongjoong needs some touching up so Seonghwa treats her nicely '' be said and I knew the reason why they took the orange tiger away was because of his behavior.
“Be careful, an abuse hybrid can be triggered at any mention of abuse. Ask simple questions.” Taeyong said and before I could start I looked at him.
He stared at me with soft eyes and a smile... it shocked me how gentle his expression looked.
“I’m not fragile for you not to ask me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. “The moment you walked in I heard that radio of yours… it kinda hurt at first” he confessed.
“I’m sorry,” I said but I couldn’t turn it off for my safety.
“It’s alright… you're not the first person to come here to infiltrate this place,” he said with his ears flattening on his head. He was losing hope for himself.
“How many hybrids are there?” I asked and he sighed. “I’ve lost count… it is over a hundred by now and more to come” he explained. “Oh, and he doesn’t register hybrids in case they die. It’s a miracle to even survive birth here… let alone survive being a baby here. We aren’t checked for until we’re cubs… after that, we’re never looked after again. The only thing he’ll ask to do is hygiene for his top performers” he explained.
“I’ve heard of your firm from the clowns… they hate you,” he said and I chuckled. “They said something about a girl writing about hybrid rights. Since then they’ve shut down several enterprises” he said and I smiled.
My reputation follows me.
“They might know who you are, be careful,” Taeyong said and Seonghwa only stared at me with twitching ears.
“You must have really good hearing to catch it,” I said and he smiled softly with his tail swishing behind him.
“Thanks… but it comes in handy with the staff,” he said and I sighed. 
“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” I asked and he swallowed down saliva showing how nervous he was.
“I’ll tell you everything if you manage to burn this place down,” he said and I sighed. “How about we make a promise?” I asked and he looked at me confused.
“I’ll shut this place down… but that’ll be the easy part. I’ll still need some more evidence after to concrete it” I asked and he nodded.
“Good luck”
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The show was like any other hybrid show. 
You could see the fear in hybrid's eyes when they made a mistake and had to cover it. Clowns and performers have the upper hand. 
MATZ had the opening… they did dangerous stunts. There were a few times they stumbled but otherwise did the best they could. The crowd loved them… I saw the contrast of the two… fear and anger.
Once the show was over I did a closing statement with the ringmaster and some staff who showed me around.
“And our opening act. Did you enjoy it?” they asked and I smiled when I saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a tiny cage. It had enough room for the both of them but it must've made them feel trapped.
The staff were talking to other reporters when I noticed the heavy glare Hingjoong was giving me.
Seonghwa got his attention and looked to be scolding him only for him to scoff. He looked over at me and bowed in an apology in which I shook my head. 
“I hope you enjoyed the show” 
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seonghwa’s pov
As the reporters left with the staff, Hongjoong glared at me. “Quit acting that way” I scolded and he scoffed
“She’s not the first person to come here asking for questions with a wire,” he said and I sighed.
“You heard what they said about that firm though—“ “She also said how she didn’t own any hybrids but owned three,” he said and I was confused. 
“She has hybrid scents reading out of her. You shouldn’t trust humans so easily… one day it’ll be you they’re disposing of” he said and I looked down.
“I… sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. I’m just sick of this Seonghwa but this is our life and it’ll never change” he said and I chose not to believe that. 
I had hoped that she’d complete her promise.
“Hongjoong…. Sometimes you just have to have faith that people are still good. We don’t know how it is outside… maybe it’s different” I said and he sighed.
“But is it any better?” He asked and before I could respond I heard yelling.
“Woah!? What are you doing?!” I heard as I saw the ringmaster following… policemen? 
“This place is being temporarily shut down for inspection and so are the hybrids in this vicinity. If we find anyone trying to smuggle or hide evidence you’ll be under arrest for tampering with a crime scene” he said and I also noticed people with white lab coats. 
“Start arresting staff members and performers. Contain all the hybrids as well” he ordered and the last thing I saw was Hongjoong defying them whilst I felt a sharp pain in my neck.
Everything could only get better… right?
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Waking up in a white and cold room was not what I expected…
“White tiger hybrid seems to be malnourished, untreated second-degree burns, underweight, untreated cuts, and dehydrated. Seems to be approximately 25 years old and unclassified code due to tranquilizer” I heard… Was that a doctor?
I tried sitting up but my wrists were bound. 
“You’re awake? Are you going to comply?” he asked me and I noticed how close he was. He seemed to purposely try to annoy me… “Classified as yellow. He’s one of the tame ones” he said into the radio. Classifications? I knew very little of that… but yellow wasn’t bad?
“The orange tiger is awake, and is showing a lot of aggression” I heard on his radio… Hongjoong? “Tranquilize him,” the doctor said and I struggled against the constraints. “He’s your partner, right? They won’t hurt him, but he will hurt us… he’s in good hands'' he said and I scoffed. Like I’d trust humans now after… 
“What happened to the reporter?” I asked and he looked at me confused. “She promised to help me… what did she do?” I asked and he hummed. “She’ll be conducting interviews this following week. So be on your best behavior or you’ll end up in a higher code” he said as he left the room. 
She actually… helped us?
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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oncomingnight · 8 months
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Yandere! Slasher x Fem Reader₊˚⊹♡
These Boots Are Made For Breakin' Teeth..!
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Sebastian was the son of an incredibly well known movie mogul, whom of which helped ignite his adoration for a very specific genre of film, horror. Due to the success of his father's career, he was raised in an environment surrounded with money and awaiting opportunities.
Sebastian was part of a friend group filled with stereotypical personalities, the rich girl, the nerd with glasses, the jock, the quiet girl and the peaceful pacifist. He'd been friends with them all the way from elementary to currently, high school.
His style consists of flannel, woolen jackets, darkly colored long sleeved tops, tank tops, slightly unbuttoned shirts, rolled up sleeves.
Despite his almost permanently unimpressed expression, he'd be, undeniably, the sweetest man you were to ever meet. You wouldn't even have to be struggling with a task for him to swoop in and take care of it himself, the favor always being followed with a slightly teasing remark.
"Looking to get yourself hurt, y/n?" "No, really, I'll take care of it. Go on and relax with the others, wouldn't want you worrying your pretty little head about this."
Sebastian has never murdered anyone without a realistic reason, but everyone has different interpretations of what is necessary and what is not. He's a smart guy so he'll always wear a mask when he's about to go into the night, searching for his target. Many of the people that he has left for dead are people who have caused you or his family emotional distress. He finds anyone that isn't 'overly' protective of their close ones as useless and a waste of air.
Who is he but your protector?
He is the best gift giver that there is, it's almost frightening how able he is to know exactly what you want. His gifts are always color coordinated, accompanied with photographs he's taken of the two of you together.
He's the type to form his fingers into 'bunny ears' when the two of you are posing for a photo and placing them behind your head.
Don't be surprised to find him beside your bed with your favorite beverage, food, snacks and movie dvd when you aren't feeling like yourself.
He's a highschool senior that's got enough money to last him several life times, of course he's going to attend as many parties as he can. But, he's never going to go without you or if they purposefully only invite him. Sebastian keeps a hawkseye on you whenever the two of you attend a social outing together, making sure no one is being a bother or approaching you with malice.
Sebastian would do absolutely anything to see you show that smile he loves so much. Whether that means taking you to an early screening of a movie you've talked about wanting to see, taking you on a road trip surrounded by country roads as Lord Huron's 'The Moon Doesn't Mind' plays, purchasing concert tickets for you to see your favorite artists live, booking a trip to the countryside of a European country whilst staying in a secluded cabin or just going on a simple coffee run.
He has a wooden box that is filled with photographs, letters and trinkets related to you. Yes, he has a necklace of yours that he had swiped and carefully placed into his box of memories.
He hopes you don't mind!
As I've said before, his tough exterior doesn't mean a thing when it comes to the soft center he's got on him.
He has a Pinterest board dedicated to how he'd like your wedding & honeymoon to look, based on everything he knows you'll enjoy.
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multifan2022 · 1 year
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Used to be yours
Masterlist
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You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts. 
You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty. 
It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter.. 
So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom. 
Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted.. 
At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in. 
He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there. 
Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes. 
Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down. 
The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition. 
Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story. 
Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake. 
You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot. 
The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better. 
And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw.  And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.  
Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you. 
Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to. 
Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her. 
You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything. 
Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else. 
That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text. 
BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad? 
BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️
He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward. 
Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement.  He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of. 
Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night." 
Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco. 
~
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~
PART 2
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theother-victoria · 20 days
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now I’m thinking about going to see aventurine perform at a concert thanks to that animated short…
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TAGS: nothing but cuteness, use of his real name, not proofread this is pure word vomit, just a little something between studying for finals, can you tell I love writing him as an affectionate loser, 1.3k wc
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When Aventurine told you that he’d be performing at the upcoming Robin concert as the lead guitarist, you were pleasantly surprised, to put it shortly. He’s a man of many talents, but how he managed to secure a spot alongside the famous singer is beyond you. 
You don’t even have to ask if you could go. As soon as you’re about to pop the question, he presses something into your hand- tickets to the best seats in the venue and a highly coveted VIP backstage pass that you know people will be fighting to get their hands on. 
In the weeks leading up to the performance, he’s busy practicing. When he’s home, the sounds of him making his way through a difficult passage can be heard, along with the soft meows of your cat critter pets as they gather around him curiously. You’re the one to massage his cramping hands after hours of practice and kiss his weary fingertips that are starting to callus.
(“It’s sounding really good so far. You should take a break now,” you say as you set down some snacks and tea besides him. He shoots you a thankful smile but makes no move to stop practicing.
“No, it has to be perfect. After all, you’re going to be there. I can’t have my darling seeing me at anything less than my best, can I?”)
When the day of the performance comes and you arrive at the venue with a bouquet of flowers in hand, he’s already waiting and greets you with a big kiss on the lips and a grin on his face.
“Darling, you’re here! And so early at that. Are these for me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”
He’s quick to lead you backstage into the dressing rooms, where you see all the performers getting ready. The star of tonight’s show, Robin, is sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, gorgeous as ever. But in addition to her, you also spot a couple of other faces. A Knight of Beauty, the retainer of the Xianzhou Luofu’s general, and a… Stellaron Hunter? 
(From the back of your mind, you recall something about Aventurine telling you that it wasn’t just Robin performing; it was a collaboration with talented people from all over the galaxy. What a colorful cast of performers tonight… seems like that was true.)
It doesn’t take much convincing from him for you to help him with his makeup. You pull a chair up next to him as you begin doing his eyeliner.
“I know I can always count on you, darling.”
The look on his face is smug and you scowl.
“Stay still otherwise your eyeliner is going to end up all wobbly.”
Your face is illuminated by the led lights on the mirror and your brows are scrunched in concentration. He chuckles a bit before stealing a kiss from your lips, laughing when you sharply gasp. It’s a cute look on you, he thinks. But he likes seeing you flustered more. 
One of the stage crew members lets everyone know the show is about to begin. The other performers speed through the last of their makeup or warm-ups before leaving, until it’s just the two of you in the empty room.
With the start of the performance mere minutes away, stage fright is getting to Aventurine, even if he tries to brush it off. He adjusts his hat every few seconds and keeps fiddling with his guitar pick in place of his usual poker chip.
“Nervous?”
“Hah, me? Never,” he confidently declares, but you don’t miss the nervous quiver in his voice. You merely roll your eyes and sigh before stepping closer to him. One hand reaches out to fix his tie while the other reaches behind his back to grasp his left hand clenched into a tight fist. Your thumb traces soothing circles over the skin. The tension dissipates from his hand as he slowly unclenches his fist and lets it fall back to his side. 
“You’ll do amazing,” you say as you redo his tie. “You’ve been practicing so much you could play everything in your sleep at this point. And if you get nervous, know that I’m there in the audience. Just keep your eyes on me and it’ll all be fine.”
You tug at his tie one last time.
“All done now. Look at you, so handsome.” 
“For your eyes only,” he teases back with a wink. 
You pat down his suit jacket and adjust his hat one last time.
“Go and steal the show now, Kakavasha.”
He gives you a cheeky grin.
“No good luck kiss?”
“You don’t even need one considering you were blessed by a goddess. But come here.”
Yes, he demands a good luck kiss before the show begins. Yes, he also demands kisses during intermission where he sweeps you off your feet in an affectionate hug coupled with kisses all over your face.
“How was I back there?” he asks once he sets you down. He doesn’t seem to mind that others are watching with varying levels of amusement but he’s always been unapologetically shameless with his displays of affection. 
“Perfect,” you say. “You sounded even better up on stage than at home.”
But it’s not over yet. He has a solo in one of the pieces during the second half of the concert, and it’s what he’s most worried about.
Aventurine’s eyes wander during the pieces leading up to his solo and he notices a perpetually yellow lightstick glowing in the VIP section near the stage. Robin is performing right now, meaning that almost all of the lightsticks are glowing white. 
He smiles to himself. You really are too supportive of him. 
Robin stops singing and now it’s his time to shine. The spotlight hones in on him and follows him down the stage to the screams of fans. The lightsticks quickly switch from white to yellow, but his eyes are on one person only. 
You scream his name followed by an enthusiastic “I love you!” so loudly that you think you’ve made the people next to you go deaf. His gaze meets yours under the blinding lights and the way he looks at you- you think you’ve fallen in love all over again.
Like you told him to, he keeps his eyes on you. His breathing slows down and his trembling fingers gripping the fingerboard stop shaking. He readjusts his stance and without any further hesitation, dives into his solo.
Many in the audience vye for his attention, smitten by his good looks. They reach for him as he passes by, but his attention is on one person only. Your gaze grounds him, keeps the stage fright at bay, and encourages him to keep going, if only to fulfill his wish of you seeing him at nothing less than his very best. 
His solo is flawless. Perfect. As the last note reverberates through the air to the cheers of adoring fans, his eyes seek you out once more. His heart pounds in his chest, riding off the high of a successful performance- and your loving gaze. 
You watch as Aventurine spins around in place, seeking you out. When his eyes meet yours, you wave your lightstick excitedly and blow him kisses. You see the adrenaline rush written clearly all over his face, but also the joy in his eyes after seeing your pride in him. He pretends to catch the kisses you blow his way before blowing a few back. Your entire section erupts in chaos, but you alone stay put, gazing up at him with a tender and proud look that he always feels like he never deserves.
But tonight, he feels like he does. 
Aventurine is a born actor, able to fool everyone and himself. But in a crowd of many, he’ll always bare his heart for you. 
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kirikorik · 8 days
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- What, never? Have you never fucked in public?
Joost Klein × fem!reader.
Summary: How about Joost getting under your skirt right at a party where there are a lot of people? He does it. You are a Eurovision participant. Age difference. The fem!reader is a virgin.
Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18+! Masturbation. Vaginal Fingering. Overstimulation. The reader is a virgin.
I don't know English. Maybe there are a lot of mistakes. ♡♡♡
Eurovision has ended, the Netherlands is the winning country. Joost Klein brings his country a resounding victory, and in just one day, people are snapping up all the tickets for his upcoming tour.
Joost is full of the joy of his victory, but the jubilant grin on his lips is no longer from the first place at Eurovision, but from the way you drunkenly squirm on his lap and cling to his bare torso.
The restaurant located on the ground floor of the hotel where all the Eurovision participants were accommodated is full of people. The party has been going on for several hours and many have managed to get drunk, continuing to dance merrily with each other. The room smells of sweat, wet bodies and alcohol. The music loudly beats the rhythms passing through the body in waves.
You're shaking with a hoarse sigh, you drank a little, but still managed to get drunk, but it made sense, you're among the winners. You have brought your country second place, but you are not upset. Joost's victory was well deserved.
Your eyes are running around the hall, because of the rapidly flashing light it is difficult to see something and only in rare flashes sometimes you notice familiar silhouettes. Your face is flushed, your lips are parted from the musty air, gasps come out of your mouth, but this is not because the room is hot, you casually turn around, fidgeting on Joost's right hip, your short skirt lifts up, and your hips rub against his jeans. You don't hear him chuckling when he notices it.
Joost holds in his left hand a glass with an iridescent liquid, some kind of cocktail, which he hastily took from the bartender. He brings it to his lips and takes a small sip, tickling your ribs with his fingertips.
You and Joost met a few days before the start of Eurovision, when all the artists were coming to the venue of the competition, and you were captured by what was waiting for you. You were young, even very young, and, to tell the truth, this was your first trip abroad, and you couldn't help but be proud that you were chosen among all the singers in your country. Of course, you were probably the most inexperienced, but you were talented and persistent, so you won and won again, bringing victory to your country. You should have been proud, and you knew it.
Your wet palm rests on Joost's forearm, his unbuttoned white shirt, sticking to his sweaty body, slipped under your delicate fingers, the singer's palm slid lower to your fitted skirt, ruffling the fabric. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel your lower abdomen burning and you prayed that moisture wouldn't show through your underwear and leave a mark on Joost jeans. To be honest, he would have liked it. You knew it by the way his eyes glittered when he looked at you. He hardly drank, so it was definitely not alcohol.
Joost got closer and closer to you throughout the party. At first, he just followed you around, then chatted and joked with you, then sat down next to you, leaving his friends, and then completely sat you on his lap, saying that he likes to admire you from this angle.
You were shy and inexperienced in this regard, and you usually ran away from all the guys who flirted with you. But Joost was confident in himself, and you liked him, so you stayed sitting on his hips, biting your cheek to sober up. If you'd had a little more to drink, you could have groped him without a twinge of conscience. Joost wouldn't mind touching you back. To be honest, he did it by lowering his calloused hot palms lower and lower to the edge of your skirt. His piercing light blue eyes were fixed on you, and it seems that you were his alcohol at this party. Was anyone against it? Of course not, and everyone was so drunk that they didn't even notice how you and Joost hid in a dark corner of the hall on a soft sofa.
— Joost… — you began hesitantly, realizing that all this was approaching something forbidden, and you were used to avoiding feelings, running away from everything that could harm you in this way.
In your youth, you had an unpleasant experience with what boys were like in adolescence. You were often molested, tried to touch you and all the other nasty things. That's why you've never had a relationship, not even a kiss with a boy.
And now everything was going to the point that you could lose yourself with a man who would probably return to his country tomorrow and leave you. You've only known each other for a couple of weeks, and although you like Joost, you weren't sure that all his vulgar jokes, flirting and flirting meant something serious. He wasn't that kind of person and he didn't seem to need a relationship. Just have fun and relax… You weren't ready for this, but you thought that maybe, for the first time in a long time, you should just put aside your fear and give in to fleeting feelings. Are you going to lose something? Maybe a piece of yourself, but you'll give it to Joost. A handsome, tall, blue-eyed blond man. Maybe it was a good idea.…
— What is it, Schat?(sweetie) — the singer moved closer to you and leaned into your ear. His voice was hoarse and caring… your stomach is cramping, your chest is constricting. Joost was older, he was more experienced and brazenly took advantage of it, finding your erogenous zones: earlobes, nape, ribs, knees…
— I need to leave… — you muttered, running your gaze from side to side, not daring to look Joost in the face. You tried to stand up, your legs didn't hold you well, and you put your hand on Joost's hip, looking for support. Your ears burned and your cheeks turned purple in an instant, you took your breath away from the realization that your fingers were on his groin, you froze in confusion…
There was a low, hoarse laugh, Joost barely noticeably swung his pelvis forward, and his right palm wrapped around your waist, easily pulling you to him. You didn't resist when the singer pressed his whole body against you, his naked torso tickling the skin of your back. You felt your toes go numb with tension, your whole body tensed and seemed to stop obeying you. A barely audible sigh escaped your lips from the friction of your ass against Joost's groin, there were only thin panties under your upturned skirt.
Joost swung forward harder, leaning on you with his whole body, a few drops of alcohol fell on your bare knee, accidentally spilling from a glass.
— Girl, do you want to leave already? — Joost cooed, scorching your neck with his hot breath. Goosebumps ran down your back, and your hips twitched when the blond man leaned on your hip with his left elbow. A sweet smile appeared on Joost's lips. You were so sensitive.…
Joost remembered the first time he saw you, when you were standing in the lobby of the hotel and looking for someone who could help you, he decided to be a good guy and came up to you. You blinked so confusedly, opened and closed your plump lips, not knowing what to say, how to explain what you need. Joost liked to look at you with relaxed eyes with a floating half-smile, he was polite when he introduced himself to you and helped you find the administration. You looked like a lost fawn, and he couldn't leave you, not when his skin itched from how innocently you looked at him with your big eyes.
— I'm not. — you muttered with trembling lips, your palms clutched at his arm around your waist, but you didn't try to pull away. The way he was breathing down your back made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Joost knew it damn well, pressing his wet lips to your neck in a light half kiss, at the same moment the palm lying on your waist moved down, sliding to your hips, he lifted the edge of your short skirt with his thumb, and you arched in the back…
Your second meeting took place on the ground floor in the hotel dining room at breakfast, you approached him again and thanked him for «saving» you, and Joost invited you to have breakfast with him and his friends. No one has ever laughed so much at his stupid and vulgar jokes like you. You were so innocent and so vicious that his fingers were numb with excitement.
— Little liar, — Joost sang in your ear. You didn't see him, but you felt him. Joost was looking at you rapaciously and greedily, you could barely see the blue iris behind his black pupils when he squeezed the inside of your thigh and brazenly climbed under your skirt. You didn't push him away, but you prayed that no one would see you.…
Then Joost noticed you from afar at a training performance on stage, he couldn't see you well, but he recognized your voice perfectly. You hit the high notes damn well and he thought dirty about how your moans would sound…Then something flashed through his mind.
— Do you like this lieverd?(sweetie) — Joost laughed playfully, slapping you on the hip, his hands sliding higher.You couldn't help but whimper, his pollen touched the wet spot on your panties. Damn you. You jerked your hips and squeezed his hand in a dumb impulse to either stop him or not let him take his hand away. Joost bit your earlobe and leaned forward with his hips, making a push…
And then he met you at your dressing room dressed in the dress you were supposed to be performing in. You had damn angel wings on your back. Your dress hugged all your beautiful curves, the slits on your clothes exposed your body. It was damn cheeky, damn sexy. He called you a vicious angel and his dick ached in his pants…
You felt Joost's arousal through his jeans, and your temples were cramped, there was such tension in your head that it seemed like something was about to burst and you would lose consciousness. You were against it, you wanted to know what would happen next… You lied to yourself that you wanted to stop all this and stop…
—Damn attractive, sweet angel, — he chuckled hoarsely, rubbing his cheekbone against your cheek and licking his dry lips. His fingers moved, tugging at your aching, throbbing clit through the fabric of your panties. You tensed your whole body, closed your eyes, arched even more, fidgeting on his horny cock. Joost shushed, shaking his pelvis in response.
— Joost, I've never… — you let out a low, agonized moan, leaning your head back against his shoulder. The glass of ice he was holding in his other hand, resting his elbow on your hip, touched your knee, and you flinched.
— What, never? — Joost cooed, running his tongue over your sweaty neck. His rough fingers impatiently pushed back the edge of your panties, he pressed three fingers to your aching pussy and lightly slapped. If it weren't for the deafening rhythms of the music, you would have heard your cunt squelching. — Have you never fucked in public? — he mumbled again, almost meowing like a cat. Joost's thumb tugged at your clitoris again, making you moan.
You're so pliant and crying in his arms. Your nails dig into his hand, and you shake your head no. Joost's white eyebrows rise in surprise:
— Baby, don't tell me that these are the first fingers touching your beautiful pussy? — his voice was muffled and deep. It was getting harder and harder for him to control himself.
You nodded in the affirmative. Virgin. A damn virgin dripping on his fingers in a room full of people. Joost has never felt like such a bastard before. For the first time, Joost liked feeling like such a freak. He set you liberating, made you flow on his fingers…
— Schat(honey), you… — he couldn't breathe. Joost's cock twitched in his jeans, and his balls throbbed. He leaned forward with his pelvis, pulling you towards him, pressing two fingers into your pussy. They barely entered, but you're already whining, it's almost unfair that you're so narrow. — Oh… — Joost let out a guttural moan and buried his nose in your shoulder, squeezing your aching clitoris with his fingers. What would it be like if he came in your pussy? Would you whimper, begging him to stop fiddling with your clitoris? Joost would be gentle and caring for your first time, even tremulous, even very…
— Please… — you asked, moving your hips forward, slightly impaling yourself on his thumbs. So small and tight, so spoiled by him. Joost growled briefly through his teeth and began to lay a trail of kisses along your neck to the back of your head, accelerating his movements. From the outside, you could only see how Joost eagerly snuggles up to you, hugs you, and how your skirt bounces from the movement of his hand, no more, no less.
— Please what? Liefje?(love) — he cooed, inhaling your scent, excitement oozed over your skin, his cock twitched again and it hurt so much that his eyes went dark when you pressed your ass into his groin. Naughty girl…
— I want to… I want to… — you couldn't speak anymore. All disheveled, wet, sweaty and horny. Your cheeks are red, your lips are swollen from bites, and your eyes are tightly squeezed shut. You cried so sweetly on his fingers that Joost decided to feel sorry for you. He smiled into your shoulder and completely plunged one of his fingers into you, tugging your clitoris a few more times, making you clench with a loud, big sob. Fortunately, it couldn't be heard over the music.
Your hips shook, your knees twitched a few times, and your nails dug into his arm until you bled, which you clung to like a lifeline. Joost hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue and squeezing your clitoris even harder, watching with admiration how your back tightens and arches towards him. How your plump lips open, saliva flows down your chin. How your beautiful eyes roll with pleasure. He penetrates deeper into your pussy, feeling your sticky arousal already flowing down his arm.
—Come on, Schat(honey)… — he croaked before you jerked your hips again and came on his damn tattooed fingers. Your ears pop and you can barely hear the music, enjoying the way he enters you with his fingers a few more times deep enough for your cunt to shrink around them. And then he breaks his palm out from under your skirt and squeezes your chin with his fingers smeared in your shiny moisture and turns it to himself. His eyes are burning, his pupils engulfing you as he digs into your lips demanding pushing his tongue into your mouth. You're moaning, writhing in his urns, still unable to function properly…
— Joost… — you moan softly as he pulls away and continues to admire your flushed face, shiny from the marks of his fingers smeared in your lubricant. A predatory grin plays on his lips as he picks up a half-empty glass with the remaining alcohol and drinks the entire drink at once.
— Liefje(love), are you ready to continue? — he asks hoarsely in a low voice, looking at you with shining eyes, and, of course, you do not refuse him. You're swallowing. Joost stretches his lips in a confident grin and licks his dry lips before hugging you around the waist, getting up and quickly dragging you to the elevator leading to his room.
It's unlikely that you'll be able to go home tomorrow as planned. If you can get out of his bed at all. Because Joost plans not to take his dick out of you until dawn, and your pussy will definitely hurt for the next week, and maybe longer, if you still agree to go on tour with him…
In the morning, clutching your naked, exhausted, still trembling body, Joost unlocks his phone and sees a bunch of notifications. Clicking on one of the links, he will find a video from the party in poor quality and several photos in which, oh shit, you and Joost were. They show you hugging. And just as clearly you can see Joost's hand sliding under your skirt. The blond man smiles slyly and pats you on the head, already imagining how you will have to shamefacedly explain to journalists and reporters what is going on between you and Joost Klein.
— She's my girlfriend. — Joost Klein brazenly and confidently declares this evening in front of his fans. You probably don't mind…
Don't post this anywhere without my permission!
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trippinsorrows · 14 days
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with me + part one
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authors note: well, i got some type of writers block working on two other RR wip's so opened a new google doc and ended up with this. prob gonna be 3 parts, maybe 4. there's an almost five year time jump after this one, can you guess why? also, joe's wife is an oc, not galina.
first time posting my roman writings on here and trying not to freak out tbh
warnings: angst, infidelity, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny's child
word count: 4,000
You know that assignment everyone at some point in their education where they research what they want to be when they grow up and share it with the whole class for a grade? Yeah, that big mammoth of a question that somehow you’re supposed to have confidently answered before even reaching double digits.
That was always super easy for you.
From as far back as you can remember, you wanted to be a teacher. It took until you were in middle school, almost high school for you to settle on an elementary school teacher, college for a specific grade. But, the teaching profession always called to you.
You chalk it up to your grandmother, undoubtedly one of your favorite people in this entire world. She was also an elementary school teacher who taught until she was expectedly called home when you were 14. Some part of you wonders if you’ve never even allowed yourself to entertain any other professions because of her loss. She was your best friend, and following in her footsteps was wanted but also felt somewhat necessary. Like you had to in order to honor her and her legacy.
A couple years into your career, you still think about that, how you’ve known from such a young age what you wanted to do with your life. Well, one part. 
In other areas, maybe the most important areas, you were lost as all of the outdoors. Mostly in one area, if you’re being honest, and truthfully, it’s not even what you want in as much as it is how you get there. The path is relatively simple: find a man, fall in love, get married, have babies, live happily ever after.
It’s such a stereotypical trajectory, but one you’ve also envisioned for yourself since your late teens. You’d gotten partying all out of your system during the early college years, somewhat in high school as well. Now in your mid 20s, soon to be late 20s, all you want to do is prepare to eventually settle down. Sooner rather than later.
And the issue isn’t even having no prospects. You have a prospect, he’s just unavailable. 
Because he’s already fucking married.
But can you even call him a prospect when that implies there’s some chance? Because there’s zero chance. You know this. You know this very well, too well. So why you still allow him into your bed and inside of you is beyond you. Yes, the sex is out of this world, but you desire more than that. Maybe not at first, but almost three years deep into this arrangement, most definitely.
You still think back to your first meeting.
Your best friend won a contest that not only granted her two front row tickets to a Smackdown show but backstage passes as well. You met so many wrestlers that night, some you grew up watching on TV as the little tomboy that you were as a kid. But, it was one wrestler in particular: tall, muscular, hair more beautiful and silky than any silk press your beautician mother could ever style, that changed your life. Whether for better or worse remains to be seen. 
He was attractive, extremely, possibly one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. But, the attraction was short-lived when you spotted the wedding band on his left hand. You’d be lying if you tried to say that was when the attraction sizzled out. It diminished, but it was still there. Still, you didn’t think much of it, that was until you received a call from a number on your phone that you didn't recognize. 
Why you even accepted the call is still a mystery. You never answered random calls, yet that one was an exception, an exception that resulted in you having an unexpected phone conversation with Roman fucking Reigns. He explained that he got your number from your friend who’d exchanged contact information with a wrestler she met that night as well. They were messing around too, that much you knew. And good for her. He, unlike Roman, was not married and therefore free to fuck around.
The conversation lasted much longer than it needed to, especially given the flirtatious nature it quickly took on. It was wrong, you knew this well, very well. He took vows, but you were also aware of those vows. And heat no point pressured you into anything, you could have cut it off. Flirtatious he was, but forceful he was not.
The conversations increased in frequency and length over a matter of weeks that turned into months, and before you knew it, your day started and ended with either a text or phone call from the wrestler. 
A small part of you knew that it would eventually escalate into more, a man like him seemed like he needed more. But, you stupidly tried to tell yourself that when that time came, you would remain strong and draw the line in the sand with just communication. Even if it was just as wrong as anything else.
It was a silly thought. 
Your resolve was weak.
You absolutely did not need to accept his invitation to fly you out to one of his shows, and you damn sure didn’t need to allow him to take you back to his hotel where your legs ended up wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you—among other things—until the early hours of the morning.
The days after that were rough. You felt absolutely disgusted with yourself. It was one thing to flirt with a married man, but it was an entirely different thing to fuck a married man. He wasn’t yours. He belonged to someone else. He had a life with some other woman. You had no right to insert yourself into that union, so you decided to sever contact with him, deleting his number from your phone and shoving the experience in the ‘biggest regret of your life’ box with no intention of reopening it.
Unfortunately for you, Roman, Joe, as he asked you to call him, was a persistent bastard.
You ignored his texts, so he called. You ignored his calls, so he texted. You ignored both, and this motherfucker showed up at your goddamn door. There were multiple times you could have and should have ended things, that being another perfect opportunity. If you told him to leave that night, not allowed him into your apartment, he would have listened. He was stubborn and resolute but also respectful. If you told him to leave, really told him, he would have done so.
But, you didn’t. You allowed him into your place and similar to the last time you were in his presence, ended up spread out on your bed with him balls deep inside you until you couldn’t feel your lower half. 
Now, fast forward three years later, not much has changed. You two don’t communicate quite as much in the day, and his visits are more spread out given the company’s current efforts at pushing him as the new face of the company. But, that doesn’t stop his visits to come see you and flights he puts you on to come see him, both of which always end with him leaving your legs jelly and throat raw.
All the while his wife sits at home unaware of her husband’s consistent residence between your legs.
The thought alone makes you sick, revolted at yourself, at how you’ve allowed yourself to reach this point in life. Closer to 30 than 20 and going on 3 years of being a mistress to a married man, a man who can never give you the future you want yet refuse to let go. 
Not that you’d ever allow yourself to really acknowledge why. 
That’s….that’s just too much.
________
Pillow talk was just something that naturally happened between the two of you. It made sense given that your relationship started out with just talking. He seemed interested in knowing more about you, about your likes and dislikes. He shared his as well. You weren’t beyond admitting that Joe was insanely easy to talk to, the flow of conversation always natural, never forced. There never seemed to be a dry spot between you two. 
And whether it was an innate ability to pick up on the emotions of others or just his, you could always tell when something was bothering him, could see when he came to you with a burden he didn’t want to discuss.
Not that that stopped you from asking. If he declined to talk about it, you respected it, didn’t push. But, more often than not, he would end up sharing things with you, mostly concerns regarding his career.
It seemed he visioned one thing for himself, while Vince McMahon saw another. He felt frustrated at times, especially when the fanbase started pushing back more. He never admitted as such, but you could see it hurt his feelings. How could it not? Kayfabe or not, Joe was still a real person with real feelings, regardless of the role he played.
And at some point, his visits to see you stopped always involving sex. That happened majority of the time, but there were occasions when he just seemed like he needed someone to be around, a distraction, someone to talk to. 
Someone like you.
“Come on.” You jumped up off the couch and offered your hand that he looked at with disinterest. “Don’t make me drag your big ass. It’ll probably break my back.” He lifts his brow, and you roll your eyes. “Joe, come onnnn.”
“Where are we going?” He finally asks, all the while sighing heavily and standing up. Though unnecessary at this point, he still takes your hand. You try not to think too much of the gentle squeeze he gives.
“To my kitchen.” 
Glancing over, he gestures with his thumb. “The place that’s like 3 feet away.”
You suck your teeth and shove against him. “Don’t be an ass. We’re gonna bake cookies.”
“Bake?”
“That’s what I said.” Though clearly skeptical, he follows you into the kitchen and watches as you start gathering supplies. “I spent a lot of summers with my grandma, and whenever either of us were having a bad day, she’d take us into the kitchen and we’d bake chocolate chip cookies. She’d always say there’s nothing a good chocolate morsel can’t cure.” 
Reflecting on those memories, so fond and cherished, brings a despondent smile to your face.
His eyes fall on you, sensing the sudden sadness. “You miss her.”
“Every day….” Shaking your head, you make a conscious effort to not make this about you and your grief. “Now, we need music.” You settle on some random “cookout” playlist that aids in setting the playful mood. To your surprise, yet not surprise, Joe keeps up without struggle. He's a fast learner, easily following along to your detailed instructions and explanations. Things get messy at times, as one does when baking, but it only causes the two of you to share laughter. Especially when you ‘accidentally’ get flour on each other. For you, it was an accident. His was definitely intentional. 
Still, between the laughter, light conversation, and New Edition serving as backdrop, it’s a sweet moment. 
“And now we wait,” you announce, plopping down on the sofa. “Wrestler by day, baker by night. Who’d a thunk it?”
He chuckles. “I never knew you could cook.”
At that, you nearly choke on the water bottle you’d grabbed off the coffee table. “Me? Cook? No. Not at all. There’s a reason every thanksgiving, my family only asks me to bring the drinks. My mom is the cook. Grandma was the baker. I can make cookies and a few select items. That’s it.”
You can still hear your grandma’s voice in the back of your head, chiding you for never allowing your mom to teach you how to cook. It just never garnered your interest, even when they swore up and down you’d never find a husband without knowing how.
Maybe they were right.
He joins you in the living room, settling on the other end of the sofa. “Maybe I could teach you then.”
His words—and offer—suprise you. “You can cook?”
“Don’t look so surprised.” He rolls his blue eyes. Some days you love the contacts, others you hate them. Today is a love day. They make his beauty even more exquisite. “Because of the big age difference between me and my siblings, it was just me and my mom a lot of times. They were either out and about or had either moved out. She’d ask me to help her out in the kitchen, and I picked up on a couple things.”
“You’re a fast learner.” That much is very obvious, in several areas of his life. “Was it ever hard? Like, not really having them around?”
He seems to think about her question before answering. “Yes and no. The twins moved to Florida when I was like three, and we became close instantly. It was like suddenly having two new brothers. Obviously, they didn’t live with us, so they weren’t always around, and those times were hard, I guess. But the older we got, the more we did together.”
The Usos. Also wrestlers trying to make names for themselves. He really does hail from a legendary dynasty. “I get that. It was just me and my mom, and she worked a lot to support us, so that’s why I spent so much time with my grandma. And I loved it, but sometimes it got lonely not really having siblings.” You look over at him, studying this massive specimen of a man who seems so unsure of himself right now, unsure of his future. He’d hinted at such during their prep, but you bookmarked the comment to revisit. “It’s all gonna work out, you know.”
His gaze is on you, partially disinterested, mostly in disagreement. Joe knows what you're referring to. He chuckles, darkly, “you sound sure.”
“I am,” you counter calmly. Moving to sit on your knees, you continue, “no matter what it takes, you make them respect you. You can do it, and when you finally find your footing, you’ll be one of the best to ever do it. Mark my words.” 
You’ve never been one to build up false hopes in anyone, far too familiar with the sting of disappointment. So every word leaving your mouth drips with sincerity. Joe is so much more than a “pretty face” or someone who got lucky by being born into a wrestling dynasty with a golden spoon in his mouth. He’s worked his ass off, you see how he works his ass off, so the last thing you’d want to witness is him become his own worst enemy by getting too into his head.
“You’ll see. They boo now, but pretty soon they’ll be cheering.” Moving to your knees, you lift your arms in a theatrical display. “Roman, Roman, Roman.” You yelp when his strong arms pull you into his lap, legs spread on either side of his thick thighs. “Would you let me hype you up? Like, damn.”
His smile, so beautiful and genuine, warms your soul. His spirits are lifted, and that’s all that matters. Joe’s hands are on your hips, palms massaging you through your shorts. You move your arms around his neck, resting on his strong shoulders “Thank you.”
It’s at this moment, you foolishly allow yourself to wonder. Wonder what it would be like for this to be the norm, for him to always return to your place when he has time off or in between shows. Wonder what it would be like to consistently be this safe space for him, to be in his corner and not just in the shadows, but in the light. To be supporting him ringside. To be his.
And for a second, you pretend. You pretend that you are his, and he’s yours. That this is your man, and you’re his girl. Just the two of you. Nobody else.
But the comedown from that is devastating, like a boulder sitting on your chest, a butcher knife to your heart. Because he isn’t yours. He never was, and he never will be. 
Mood sullen, you lower your arms to separate yourself. “I should…” You clear your throat, climbing off of him. The air is suddenly too stuffy, the room too small. You need space. “I should go check on the cookies.” 
Joe’s not stupid, far from it. You know that he has to pick up on your 180 in mood, yet he doesn’t pursue you, doesn’t ask questions, and you’re thankful for that. You need to not be around him right now, not so close, not so connected, not so in love.
You need to let him go. ________
“I can’t do this anymore.” 
Joe’s in the midst of sliding his shirt over his head, sitting on the edge of the bed when your voice, low and quiet, stops him mid movement. “What?”
“I said.” You blow out a big breath, unsure why your chest suddenly feels so heavy. “I can’t do this anymore.”
At that, he angles his body so that he can look at you, assess your face. He’s a big eye contact person. “What are you talking about?”
Irritation piques. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Joe.” Gesturing between the two of you, you kick the blankets off and quickly reach for your t-shirt that got discarded last night. Being naked in front of him suddenly feels uncomfortable. “This. It’s done.”
He pauses for a second and then shakes his head, resuming his dressing. “Okay.”
His tone is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe you. Like he thinks you’re playing around. Of course he would be in one of those moods, where he’s more irritable, less receptive and fucking stubborn. “I’m serious.”
“I’m not doing this shit with you right now.” Joe gets up and continues dressing himself, prompting you to climb out of bed and move in front of him. 
He can’t avoid his way out of this. You won’t allow it. It’s time to finally rip the bandaid off. 
You’ve sat on this for the last two weeks, since he last left your apartment and you realized you’d stupidly allowed yourself to fall for this man. Fall for a man who walks around with a wedding ring on his left hand, who’s always had that wedding ring from the moment you met him. You’re not upset with him, not as much as you’re upset with yourself.
You grew up the product of an affair, felt the stinging pain of being rejected by a parent whose selfishness resulted in the creation of life, a life he wanted no part of. Seen how your mom literally begged your piece of shit father to be in your life, to play some role. Heard how he cruelly rejected her, rejected you, calling you your mother’s bastard. A mistake.
It devastated you so deeply that you still can’t really talk about it without getting emotional. 
And yet, you idiotically found yourself playing the same role you used to judge your mother for: the other woman. 
It’s a role you stepped in, and one you must now step out of.
“There’s nothing to do.” You run your hands over your face and shake your head. Choosing to have this conversation at almost 4 o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best move, but you also know that if you give yourself more time, you’ll find a reason not to do it. And you need to do this. “You have a wife, Joe. A whole ass woman who loves you and would probably let you fuck her just as much as you like to fuck me. Go be with her, and if not her, find someone else, cause I won’t be that for you. Not anymore.” 
You’re not exactly sure what part of what you just said registered with him, but it’s obvious something did by the change of tone he takes. “Where is this coming from?”
“It’s coming from where it should have come a long time ago,” you answer, crossing your arms over your body. “This was never right, and I refuse to partake in it anymore. I won’t be your whore anymore.”
You didn’t expect hurt to flash in his beautiful eyes nor for him to move closer to you, that hurt intensifying when you back away. He can’t touch you. You can’t allow that, because all it takes is only touch, one longing gaze, and you’ll be putty in his hands. This has to end. “Is that really what you think you are to me?”
“I don’t know what I am to you, Joe,” you answer, honestly. It’s something you’ve battled back and forth with for nearly three years. Just what is it about you that keeps him coming back, keeps him in your bedroom, inside of you. At face value, it’s the sexual compatibility between you. Below the surface level though, there’s maybe more. You’ve never allowed yourself to venture there, and you’re certainly not about to right now. You know how you feel about him, but you refuse to really ask yourself how he feels about you. “And truthfully, it doesn’t matter, cause it doesn’t change anything.”
“So, that’s just it?” His voice is wounded, handsome face painted into a mixture of scowl and a frown. “Almost three years, and you want to throw it all away, for what?”
“For what…..Joe, you are married. You have a whole wife at home. Whatever issues you have that cause you to step out, work that shit out. Learn how to be with her. Cause I’m not doing it any more. I—I can’t.” Emotion imbues your voice toward the end, and you hate that shit. You don’t want him to see, to know, how much this has been eating you up as of lately. “I’m gonna be 30 in a few years. I want to be married. I want to have a family. I deserve that, and I’ll never have it as long as I’m messing with you, so I’ve gotta let you go.” You swallow the deep lump in the back of your throat. “And you’ve gotta let me go.” 
This time, this time you can see the part that wounds him, that digs into his chest. You’ve gotta let me go. 
Joe is fast, fast enough to move directly in front of you, large hands holding your face. He says your name, desperate almost. “Tell me what to do, tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Just….” He stops, and you close your eyes, refusing to see if it’s his own emotions coming up. You can barely handle your own cascade of feelings right now and refuse to take on his. “I can’t lose you.”
What you want…..
What you want is for him to never leave. What you want is for him to stay with you, to be with you. What you want is for him to have never met Jadah, never married her, never committed his life to her. 
What you want is for him to be yours and only yours, but what you want….is also what you can never have. 
“I—I want you to leave, Joe.” The words burn your lips, scorch your throat, ache your soul. “And this time….don’t come back.”
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, to see the result of your heartbreaking, even if honest request. It’s because you know seeing him hurt will only cause your resolve to crumble, and you can’t have that. You have to be strong, have to be the woman your mother couldn't.
So, you remain there, remain silent as he steps away from you, his touch vanishing. There’s such an emptiness in his wake.
It’s only when you hear the front door of your apartment shut that you finally feel it, the caving of your stomach, the heavy lump move from the back of your throat, the release of the loud sob you didn’t realize you’d been keeping at bay. 
It’s when you finally allow yourself to feel all of the emotions of a woman who just told the only man she’s ever loved to leave. 
If only you knew his departure was just the beginning of the rest of your life.
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sweetracha · 8 months
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Give Them a Show
Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!)
Allergy Warning: Felix x Reader, OT8 Moments, Public Sex, Sex with an Audience, Humilation, Felix acts like a Ringmaster in some ways, Secete Relationship, Overstimulation, Spanking (a few smacks), Pussy Spanking (once), Squirting, Felix really likes showing you off.
Pastry Description: Felix and the reader keep their relationship a secret from the rest of the members. What happens when they walk in on your little make-out session? Felix is always one for putting on a good show.
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Dating an idol was difficult, you knew that going into this relationship. You had always had a crush on the freckled Aussie since you first met him back in high school. Taking Baking 101 as an elective was probably the best decision you had ever made. After graduation, you two kept in touch and soon enough you watched your own personal starlight turn into radiating sunshine for the world.
Felix made an effort to text and call when he could. However, it was inevitable that the hours turn into only a few minutes. Trips back home from Korea seemed to get shorter and shorter. He used to plan days worth of stuff for the two of you to do but it became lucky if you could even meet his family for dinner. It seemed like your crush would only burn on your end.
Then, after the Sydney show, when the boys were all running off of post-concert highs Felix suck you out. You had no clue where the two of you were going, you moved out of the city years ago at this point. Then it all became familiar. The road up the little hill you had taken many times before was tattooed in your memory. Felix and you would sneak off at night to meet here, to get away from it all. This is where he confessed his dreams of being an idol to you, where he told you he was going to audition, where he came to cry to you when he was eliminated, and ultimately where he told you that his life was about to change forever.
This spot was also where you spilled your innermost thoughts to your best friend. Tears were shed, laughter was had, and even anger was shown. You kept many more things locked away however, Felix's glow was sometimes too blinding. The same night he showed you the one-way ticket to Korea was the night you shoved your love letter deeper into your purse.
You drove up here when you called Felix and told him about your date.
And when you mentioned you were moving out of the city with your new partner.
and again when you unveiled your engagement.
The last time you were here, you sobbed over the phone as you explained the last few months you endured as they left you. Felix wished more than anything he wasn't in Korea that night.
Sitting in his mom's borrowed car Felix poured his heart out to you. He explained how life has not been all he made it seem. That he only ever told you about the glamor because he knew you would worry. His rambling was cut short when the roof light caught your eye just right. The shine from your now tear-welled eyes sparkled. Felix wondered if he had hurt you until he saw the faint cat smile that graced your lips. It was the same one he saw every time he made you feel safe. The world seemed to still in the moment, telling him he was where he needed to be. Leaning over the center console his lips took your cat smile away. Then the world moved around you two again.
It kept spinning and spinning. You two never officially asked each other out but it was an obvious thing. Even his members knew you were off the menu. Felix would never confirm your relationship though, mutually agreeing it was best to keep it to yourselves for now. The little moments you two got alone were few and far between. However, you always savored every moment. Heavy make-out sessions lead to sensual petting which always turned into dry humping like college students until one of you finished. Sex was rare, almost a myth in your relationship. Felix didn't do quickies, no he made love to you. He treated the bedroom like a stage and Felix was never one to put on a bad performance.
That's why it was so surprising to you when he came back early from his schedule. You were staying with the boys while you waited for your apartment in Soul to be completed. Felix cried the day you sent him a picture of a matching one-way flight.
He walked through the front door and searched for you. It didn't take long for him to find you lounging on the living room couch in his old tee and some sleep shorts. Before you knew it he had you thrown on his lap with his hands up your shirt. Desperate eyes met yours, begging to let his inner desires free. That cat smile gave him all the permission he needed. Felix attacked your lips rather ungracefully but the need he had for you turned you on more than any good kiss could.
Cold hands chilled your burning skin as they crept up your back. The kiss deepened when he placed one of his hands on the back of your neck, wrapping it around the base. His other found your hardening buds and began to play. A particular tweak to your nipple made you throw your head back to moan out his name, but the hand around it got firmer making it so you couldn't move away.
Felix had this way about him. He was so soft like a teddy bear but dominated anyway. Every degradation was laced with praise. Every bite was kissed away. Every smack was smoothed. Every tear was wiped away. No one knew this side of him, only you.
So captured in this heated exchange neither of you heard the door open. Clouded minds silenced all noise. All but one loud gasp.
Felix pulled away, it was a sound he had never heard from you before. He searched your face for pain but only saw traces of what he described as embarrassment. If that wasn't you gasping then it must have been…
"LEE FUCKING FELIX! YOU LIER" Hyunjin yelled out.
All your worst fears came true. Here you were sitting pretty and posed on your secret boyfriend's lap while all his members barged through the door. You wanted you run away and hide but you froze. It wasn't until Felix tapped your cheek for attention.
"Baby, go to the bedroom for me, yeah? Let me talk to the boys." Felix helped you up and made you as decent as possible. A hand on your lower back ushered you away.
You don't know what possessed you to look up. Catching eyes with Chan did something to you that you couldn't describe.
The gasp, the way they stood there, their eyes on you imprinted into your mind. Seungmin wore a cautious smirk. Changbin's seemed proud. Jeongin couldn't decide if he wanted to look at or away from you. Han chose the latter. Hyunjin's dramatics turned his face a bright red. Lee Know acted as if you weren't in the room. But Chan? Chan looked hungry.
One after another their faces played on a loop in your mind. Each one makes your panties a bit wetter. Why was this happening? You loved Felix. You wanted Felix and only Felix. The thought of being with anyone else made you die a little inside. You would never want to fuck any of the other guys, but something made you feel like you wanted them there.
Felix came back into the room and kneeled in front of you. His hands cupped around your puffy cheeks. He looked into your eyes before he spoke.
"Baby Doll, I'm so sorry that happened. I checked all of our schedules three times over. I wasn't aware they canceled tonight's practice."
"It's okay, sunshine." Your voice told a much different story.
"No, it's not. I had to tell them everything. They want to apologize and to tell you that they think this is a good idea, we are a good idea. Baby, can they come do that?"
You instantly nodded a frantic no.
"Then what are you baby? Turned on?" He laughed at his joke. Then noticed you were not.
"Doll, why? What's wrong? Your face is so red, it's okay to be embarrassed" You and Felix swore you would never lie.
"I'm not embarrassed."
"Oh. I'm sorry baby I didn't mean to upset you." a gentle hand ran up your thigh comforting, but was quickly met with a wet patch. "Baby? What is--OH! Baby…did it really turn you on?"
"Felix I'm sorry! I would never cheat! You know that, promise me you know that!"
"Oh, I know baby. You can't help being turned on by all the eyes on you. The attention is addicting baby, trust me." His voice got impossibly deeper. "The idea of them all watching, wanting, craving you, but they can't have it. Sounds delicious to me. You would get to be the star I always knew you could be. The leading lady in her own debut performance. What do you say, Doll? Why don't we give them a show?"
Some of the guys looked away the second they entered the room. A few looked at your body but away from your face. Then there was Chan, hungry eyes looking directly into yours.
It was clear that you agreed, the cat smile reappear on your lips. He saw this pretty little sub fall right into place at the idea alone. Felix held you for a second, kissed your head, and then left. It was about 15 minutes before he returned, with 7 blushing faces behind him.
"Take a seat anywhere, there are no bad options. Every view of my baby is the best." Felix spoke in a lower cadence and held the tone of a narrator. The chill that ran up your spine was seen by everyone.
Felix sat behind you, pulling you in close and slowly caressing your sides. You know this move. He does this when he wants to keep you on edge, wet but not yet ready to cum. He was planning something.
"Welcome to the show, I hope you all enjoy it. There are a few rules before we get started. First off, no flash photography or filming of any kind, this is a private show after all. Secondly no talking during the performance. Lastly no touching…not even yourself" His voice turned scary at that last line.
"Failure to follow these rules will result in a permanent ban from our theater. Understood? Good. Any questions?"
"When you say no touching--" Surprisingly, the voice that spoke up wasn't Chan's, rather it was Jeongin's.
"No jacking off, no palming, no rubbing, no grinding, and no lap sitting" Felix shot that part directly toward Han and Minho.
"Shall we begin?"
Felix first removed your shirt and shorts to reveal a set of lavender lingerie underneath. His hands slowly roamed your body, obviously showing it off. Once his hands reached your chest he pushed your boobs together, earning some groans from the men in front of you.
Being so openly on display made you burn from embarrassment, but in a way that was so addicting. You didn't dare make eyes with any of the boys, that would be too much. The attempts they made to stifle any moans were already enough to make you crazy.
"Oh, what do we have here" Felix moved one hand to your thigh while the other cupped your chin. Simotaniously he forces your legs open and your vision forward. "Looks like my baby might be enjoying this, huh? Atta girl, loving the attention. I knew you would. Look at that dark spot right in the middle of your panties. I bet if I just--" He dragged a finger right across the spot in question. "I was right, you are fucking soaked."
His hand kept your face forward and he pushed your panties to the side. You were forced to take in every face in front of you. Han was as red as you had ever seen him yet he didn't look away. Seungmin and Jeongin both bit their bottom lips. Minho's pointed glare made you want to hide. Hyunjin looked as if he was in awe. Changbin seemed more focused than ever. And Chan, well Chan looked hungry.
Felix was quick to slip a finger inside of your cunt and set a brutal pace. He was only ever quick like this if he was determined to make you cum. From the growing erection on your back, you were sure he was as desperate as you were. Two more fingers entered before you realized and more were making short figure 8s on your clit. You threw your head back as you held in your moans.
"Nuh uh baby, that won't do. Go on, sing for our guests." Felix purred in your ear.
A crying whiny moan left you. Each one after was higher in pitch. You were so close, right on the edge of bliss. Then Felix pulled out. You didn't have time to complain however as he landed a slap to your soaked cunt and vigorously rubbed four flat fingers back and forth. In a matter of seconds, the bed in front of you was soaked as you screamed.
Most of the boys had to sit on their hands to not break Felix's rules. They were not about to risk missing the second act of this performance. A few moans and groans and even a whine from Jisung escaped but Felix let them slide. He was focused on you now.
"Color babygirl" He whispered for only you to hear.
"Green" it was shakey and quiet but Felix got the idea.
A gentle hand seductively ran down your front before he flipped you around, giving all the guys a great view of your ass. He smacked it a few times before smoothing out the red.
"How's the show so far? Worth the wait?" Felix projected out to the crowd.
"I see some are enjoying it…and others are REALLY enjoying it" He snickered as Changbin choked on a fake cough.
"Sometimes a bit of color looks so good on you baby."
He laid you back slowly, inching your head so close to the edge of the bed. Just enough that when you looked up you could see everyone. This position was dizzying enough but adding the weight of Felix's cock at your entrance made you spiral.
"Please" you whined out
"God baby, that's all I needed to hear"
"Come on baby, you can do better. Show them how a real starlet begs."
"Please Felix, please fuck me. I need it. I need your cock in me, fuck me like they aren't here"
And with that, Felix set long deep strokes into you. He knew you better than anyone else. You liked to feel yourself being taken apart, feeling every inch sink in and out.
Every time he thrust into you, your head got closer and closer to tipping over the edge. Every time it happened you were closer to falling over your own. Felix let out a startlingly loud groan as your walls contracted around him.
"Fuck that's it, baby, Keep going. Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I'll show the boys how pretty you look with cum leaking out of you." The pad of his thumb met with your clit and sent you over the edge.
As you came hard your head slipped over the bed. Unside-down you saw 7 sets of dark lustful eyes ready to take you. At least three of them came untouched. You overstimulated yourself at the thought that you could do that to someone.
Felix slowly pulled out of you and gently turned you around. Your body was putty at this point, making it easy for him to mold you just how he liked. He spread your legs as wide as possible and pushed down on your lower stomach. His cum mixed with yours as it began to leak out of you. He pushed a bit harder to make it flow.
"Good job baby, everyone clap for the star of our show."
The clapping added to the intoxicating humiliation you already felt.
"But the show must go on! What is a performance without an encore, am I right?" Felix sat you up.
"I think we need help from the audience for this next part. Chan, do you mind coming up on stage?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Chan said.
He looked hungry.
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The Sweetest Batch: @goblinracha, @xx3rachaslutxx, @j-onedrabbles, @lixiesweetbrownie, @marrivmel,@lyramundana , @raaaaaaahhhh , @the-geese-shall-dominate
Was your guess right? : @moonlightndaydreams, @seungminsapuppy, @krishastumblernow, @lyramundana,@s9fit3, @sluttylilbunbun, @seungmins-secret-thoughts, @seo--changbin
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goodbuckcharlie · 2 months
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I made it | Jack Hughes
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Summary: Jack was Lucy’s first love, they dated in high school but broke up when Jack left for the NHL. After a long debate with a certain older Hughes brother, Lucy decided to invite Jack to her broadway debut, but she didn’t expect him to actually show up.
Warnings: cussing
Notes: well I know I said I would work on the Cole story but I’m kinda stuck rn and this idea came to me. It’s a little shorter than I hoped but I think this one may be my favorite. Also italics means it’s a flash back
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Lucy doesn’t even know what she’s doing. She just got the news that she landed her dream role as Elphaba on broadway. Her high school dream just in arms reach. Her thumb floats over his caller id.
Jacky💕
She never had the heart to delete his contact. Not even the guts to change his name. Despite him breaking her heart, he was the one who supported her dreams the most.
It was opening night of her Senior musical. The school musical was Shrek and Lucy was playing Fiona. She kept looking in the crowd, hoping to see a glimpse of her parents, but every time she looked she slowly lost hope. But that dread was quickly replaced with joy as she saw her boyfriend and his family take their seats in the front row. Ellen and Jim were dressed up nice, Jack was dressed nice as well, but his hair definitely shows that he just got out of the shower after practice. Luke on the other hand, let’s just say Lucy was just happy he was there.
At the end of the performance, as she took her bow, Jack was cheering for her so loud that you would have thought he was at a sporting event. Lucy couldn’t help, but blush. Well as much blushing she can do under her green face paint.
Once the curtains close, Lucy rushes out of her costume to see Jack as soon as possible. When she leaves the theater room, she is greeted by Jack holding a bouquet of sunflowers, her favorite flowers.
“You came!!” She pulls Jack into a hug who quickly saved the flowers from being smushed by raising them above his head. He laughs at her excitement.
“Of course I made it.” He kisses her forehead before looking in her eyes, “I’m your number one fan.”
She couldn’t bring herself to call him, but part of her knew she needed to tell someone from that time of her life.
“Hello, who is this?” Of course he didn’t have her number saved.
“This was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have called.” She goes to hang up, but luckily, Quinn recognizes her voice.
“Lucy?! What’s wrong?” She takes a deep breath, before talking to Quinn.
“I’m sorry to bother you Quinn, I just need to tell someone , but I couldn’t bring myself to call him, not after how we left things off.” Lucy holds in her tears.
“Hey you may not be with him anymore, but you are still like a little sister to me.” Quinn’s words brought comfort to Lucy, calming her down. “You can always talk to me.”
One last deep breath, Lucy lets it all go. “Quinn, I’m going to be on broadway.”
“Wait for real!? This is amazing Lulu.”She smiles at the use of the nickname she hasn’t heard for a long time. “What date is opening night, I’ll totally buy a ticket to see it.”
“March 6th, but I already checked your schedule, and you are busy Mr. Captain.” Since this was the first time she talked to Quinn since the break up, it’s the first time she has called him captain. “But it would be knowing someone in the crowd was there for me, besides my brother.”
“You know someone who doesn’t play that day and would drop anything to see you.” She knows exact who she’s talking about.
“No Quinn, I doubt Jack wants to see me after 5 years. He has better things to do.” She still can’t believe it has been this long. “He was the one who broke up with me remember?”
“He misses you Lulu.” She shakes her head in disbelief. She’s seen Jack’s public life, he’s dated other girls, he’s out partying with his friends on the off season, and most importantly he is being successful in the NHL. “You have no idea how many time I’ve been on phone with Jack basically having this exact conversation. Every important game he calls me asking if he should invite you. I always tell him yes, but evidently he never goes through with it.”
“I’ve actually been to a few games believe it or not, last game I went to was the infamous Hughes bowl.” She couldn’t afford the lower bowl seats, but even in the nose bleeds she was supporting Jack, the Hughes brothers.
“Never let Jack know that, he’ll get so upset that you paid to watch him play. Knowing him he would try and figure out how much you spent in total, then would pay you back.” She laughs knowing that would exactly what Jack would do.
“He would also get mad if he knew I bought my own jersey.” She looks over in her closet and sees her number 86 Devils jersey that almost taunts her. “I wear it every game day.”
The two are silent for a little bit before Quinn speaks up. “What if I buy Jack a ticket and send it to him. I won’t tell him about this conversation. He can decide for himself if he goes or not but I can guarantee once he sees that you are performing, he will drop everything to see you.”
“I can’t tell you what to do with your money Quinn , but I can ask that you don’t waste your money.”
“How about this, we make a bet, the Lucy I remember always loved a good bet,” Lucy was very competitive in high school (she still is competitive but she would never tell anyone about that) “If Jack goes, you have to give him another chance . If he doesn’t go, I will never bother you about Jack again.”
“You know what you have a deal.” After making the deal, the two stay on the phone catching up for an hour. They talk about how the team is doing, how Ellen and Jim are and how much they also miss Lucy. They also talked about how Lucy got the role. Overall, Lucy was just glad to talk to one of the Hughes again.
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During his lunch time the next day, Jack got a text from Quinn.
Qball- Don’t fuck it up this time.
There was a link attached. So out of curiosity, Jack opened the link and saw it was a ticket to see Wicked on broadway. He immediately send Quinn a text back questioning what he means.
Qball- Look up the cast idiot.
Jack looks up the cast after he rolls his eyes at his brother. But when he saw Lucy’s name in big letter next to Elphaba, his heart feels like it stopped.
Qball- she wants you to go, but was too scared to ask you herself.
Jack😎- It’s been so long, what would I even say to her when I saw her?
Qball- the truth. You love her Jack and I can’t guarantee she feels the same but she does deserve the closure you never gave her.
Jack😎- after all this time maybe it’s best if I just left her alone.
Qball- I can’t make you go but if you don’t please at least give the ticket to Luke or even mom. Lucy deserves to have someone there to support her.
Jack😎- I’ll think about it, but thanks for letting me know.
Jack let’s put a groan and puts his head down trying to think.
“What’s up with him?” Jack forgot that he was with his team mates but he quite frankly didn’t care. Not even as Luke grabs his phone.
“Oh shit is this for real.” Jack groans again. “Damn dude Lucy looks hot as fuck.”
Jack’s head shoots up and he glares at Luke.
“What, on the cast list there’s a link to her Instagram. And I’m just stating facts look.” Luke hands Jack back his phone and he sees that Luke was right. Lucy had gotten rid of her braces and glasses which he also found adorable, but there was something about her matured look that made Jack awe struck.
“Who’s Lucy?” Nico asks looking over Jack’s shoulder.
“Jack’s high school sweetheart.” Luke says looking Lucy up on Instagram on his own phone. “Jack was an asshole and dumped her when he got drafted. He legit dumped her over text.”
“That was 5 years ago asshole.” Jack mutters
“She’s really talented.” Jack was playing a clip that she posted of her singing and everyone could hear it. “You really fumbled the bag dude.”
“You think she’s single?” John says while Luke showed him pictures of Lucy. “If so you think you could put in a good word for me?”
“Fuck off.” Jack feels himself getting angry but he doesn’t understand why, Lucy was no longer his, and he lost his right to get over protective of her years ago. He storms off out of the living room out to his room m. Luke follows him.
“Come on Jack, you have no right to be upset.” Jack knows Luke is right but he pouts anyways. “So what are you going to do about that ticket?”
“Maybe mom should go, you know how much she misses Lucy.” Jack says looking at a photo that Lucy posted for her birthday. It was a picture of her in high school laughing. Jack was cropped out of the photo but he can still picture the memory in his head.
“Did you not read what Quinn said?” Luk sits down next to Jack. “She wants you there Jack. She wants your support. Don’t you at least think she deserves that?”
“I do support her and she deserves all the support in the world, but she also deserves better than me.” Jack hold back his tears in front of his brother. “I remember the text her brother sent me. The day I broke up with her, I blocked her so I couldn’t see her response. A hour later, Carson texted me telling me that I would never find anyone better than Lucy and that I would have to watch in regret as his big sister became a star. Harshest words I’ve ever heard from an 11 year old.”
Both brothers laugh as the remember Carson, who actually looked up to Jack until the break up. Luke remembers being told to fuck off by the 11 year old, when he tried reaching out to Lucy after the break up.
“I thought in that moment, he was right. I still think he is right, I don’t deserve to walk back into her life now that it’s more convenient for me.” Jack looks at his desk where he keeps a picture of Lucy and his family after her first musical during their freshmen year.
“Yeah maybe you don’t deserve her after what you did, but there is no denying the love you two shared.”Luke puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder before continuing, “I’m not the best at advice so I’m just going to repeat what Quinn said that she deserves closure.”
“I just want her to be happy, Luke.” Jack cries as Luke holds his older brother.
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A few months later and a lot of hard work, it was finally time for opening night. After hours in the makeup chair, Lucy was as ready as she’ll ever be.
As she is waiting to go on she can’t help, but think of Jack.
The two were sitting in Jack’s room as they often did. As long as they had the door open per Ellen’s request. They were watching a movie on Jack’s computer as the cuddled under the sheets.Lucy was able to convince Jack to watch Wizard of oz.
“So you are telling me there is a musical where the pink witch and the evil witch are best friends and it’s about how the evil witch becomes evil?”
“Yes and it’s considered to be one of the greatest musicals of all times.” Lucy turns and faces Jack, “One day, I’ll be that evil witch. Although her name is Elphaba.”
“And I’ll be in the crowd cheering you on.” Jack smiles before kissing her cheek, “plus you’ll be the hottest green chick ever.”
Lucy laughs to herself before it’s show time. She seriously doubted Quinn’s plan, but she wasn’t going to let Jack’s absence ruin her night. Because at the end of the day, her little brother was there and that’s all she needed.
Speaking of Carson, he was sat in the orchestra seating, Lucy wanted to get him front row seats but he knew how die hard wicked fans are so he said he was fine where ever he sat as long as he could see her. Carson also brought his girlfriend who just like Lucy was into Musical theatre. Lucy never told Carson this, but his relationship reminded her so much of hers and Jack’s relationship at their age.
Carson and his girlfriend, Macy, were quietly talking during the intermission when Carson realized who was sat a seat away from Macy.
Jack Hughes.
Carson got silent and Macy noticed as well. Of course Macy knew who Jack Hughes was and she also knew about the ‘asshole nhl player the broke Lucy’s heart.’ And with Jack’s appearance tonight and Carson’s reaction, the girl put one and one together. She grabs onto Carson’s hand to comfort him before the house lights dimmed signaling the end of the intermission.
At the end of the performance, it was time for final bows. When it’s Lucy’s turn to bow the crowd and cast all go wild in applause. Lucy looks for her brother and Macy in the crowd but gasps when she locks eyes with Jack Hughes.
Jack is standing up while he cheers her on. She sees Carson who is three seats away. Carson glares at Jack while cheering on Lucy and she hide her laughter at the sight .
When the curtains close and Lucy’s costars all ambush her in hugs, Macy prepares for the worse. Carson goes over to Jack who hasn’t noticed him yet.
“Car don’t do anything stupid.” Carson just ignores her and he taps on Jacks shoulder.
Carson looks very different from what he did when he was 11. He now had a mullet and an eyebrow piercing (one that his friend did in his garage one day much to Lucy’s disapproval). But he was also now 6’0 and had a scarier demeanor. Honestly Jack was only able to recognize him from a photo Lucy had posted on her instagram. Jack goes to say something but Carson holds his hand up.
“Save it, as much as I never wanted to see you ever again, she wants you here so I respect that you came.” Carson softly grabs Macy’s hand, “we are going to the stage exit to go meet up with her. She takes 20 minutes to get out of all her makeup and costume. If you finally want to act like a man and treat my sister like she deserves you are welcome to join us, but if you are only here cause your latest one night stand stood you up or something like that, don’t waste her time and go back to Jersey.”
Jack is stunned as Carson and Macy walk away, but he quickly regains his composure and follows after them. While waiting outside, Jack watches the couple interact. He sees grumpy Carson and his happy girlfriend who is trying to calm him down. He smiles as he remembers how grumpy he got after a bad practice or a bad game and how Lucy would cheer him up.
Actors and actresses leave one by one until it’s time for Lucy. She is radiant as she greets fans and signs playbills. At the end of the group of fans was where Carson ,Macy and Jack stood. When she finally gets to Jack she couldn’t look away.
Carson pulls her out of her trance by hugging her. Macy joins making it a group hug. The teens hold on for a second before letting Lucy go.
“You did amazing out there.” Macy was always star struck at Lucy’s talents, reminiscent of how Carson idolized Jack.
“We are going to head home, I’ll drive your car.” Carson says grabbing Lucy’s car key. He then looks at Jack and then back at Lucy, “Don’t do anything stupid, but also don’t be afraid to give him another chance. I hate to say this, but I always like how happy he made you.”
“Thanks Car.” She leans up and kisses her brother’s forehead before he turns to Jack.
“Don’t fuck this shit up. Break her heart again and I’ll put your ass on the long term injury list.” Jack nods as Macy pulls Carson away.
“Damn when did he get scary?” Jack and Lucy laugh. When the laughter dies down, she looks at Jack with the same adoration she had for him when they were kids.
“You came.” Finally she hugs him, after many years yearning for his warmth.
“Of course I made it.” He says returning the hug. “I so told you that you would be the hottest green chick.”
Playfully she shoves Jack who just laughs. To get away from the crowd they walk to Jack’s car and on the walk they catch up.
“So Carson lives out here now?” Jack recalls Carson saying that he was going home earlier.
“Yeah I got custody of him about a year ago. Mom passed away shortly after you left and dad just got worse. It was no place for him, so I took my dad to court.” She shivers slightly so Jack gives her his jacket before she continues her story. “I have no idea what I’m doing raising a 16 year old, luckily my neighbor helped me out and now Carson is dating their daughter Macy.”
“You know from the small interactions I saw them have, they remind me of us.” Jack test the waters and holds her hand, which she gladly accepts, “Speaking about brothers, Luke and Quinn miss you.”
“How about you Jack, did you miss me?”
“More than anything.”
Jack opens the car door for Lucy and helps her get in before he got into the driver side.
“So miss Broadway do you have any plans tonight or can I take you out to eat?” Jack says while putting his seatbelt on.
“ I have no plans Mr NHL.But if we are going out I need time order delivery for Carson and Macy” Jack pulls out his credit card from his wallet.
“Use my card.” She tries to decline his card, but he shakes his head, “Lucy it’s the least I could do.”
She sighs before calling Macy to ask what they want for dinner. After she got the response, Lucy went and ordered food for the teens. She tried to enter her card, but Jack snatched her phone and entered his card instead.
“So now that, that’s take care of. Would you like to go out to dinner?” He hands her the phone back.
“You know I could really go for a good burger and fries, that’s if your professional team of dietitians would allow that.” Jack smiles remembering one of his favorite dates with her.
Jack had just gotten his license and he was driving around in Quinn’s hand me down car. Right after passing his drivers test, he drove straight to Lucy’s house.
“So where does the princess want to go?” Jack asked as she got into the car.
“You know I could really go for a burger and fries.” She gets into her seat and Jack takes her to their favorite local diner.
When they arrive, the host seats them at their favorite table. While they wait for their food, Lucy tells Jack about her day.
“And in front of everyone my voice cracked, god it was so embarrassing, Jacky.” She hides her face at the memory.
“I bet you have the cutest voice cracks.” The love struck boy laughs as his girl rolls her eyes at him.
“No voice cracks are cute Jacky.”
“Well yours are cause they come from you.” Their food finally arrives and they both grab a fry off the other person’s plate. Something they have done since they started dating. They called it ‘checking for poison’ but it was just one of those silly couple things.
“I love these little moments.” Lucy says as she bites into Jack’s fry.
“Well we have a whole lifetime full of little moments waiting for us.” He says while eating Lucy’s fry.
“A burger and fries sound wonderful, Lulu.”
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The two had dinner and it was like nothing changed. They shared food like normal, they talked like it was just a normal Wednesday dinner.
They finished their food and were getting ready to head out and of course Jack paid. Afterwards the two sit in Jack’s car, which was another thing they did often when they dated.
“You’re telling me that Carson became an islander fan after everything happened?” Jack chuckles at Carson’s pettiness.
“Yeah, he even forced me to take him to a game, where we met a few of the players.” She pulls up a picture they took where Carson was wearing a islander jersey and Lucy was just in a normal sweater as they stood next to a couple players, “One of the guys actually asked for my number.”
“Which guy?” Jack felt himself getting jealous.
“Oh Jacky I don’t even remember.” Of course she did after all she did give him her number. But she looks away from Jack. “Even if I did it was a year ago Jack.”
“You obviously do remember, you won’t look at me right now.” Jack doesn’t mean to be sassy towards Lucy, but let’s be honest, being sassy is in his dna.
“Why does it matter Jack? You’ve had other girlfriends why couldn’t I date someone else?” Lucy tries not to cry, but a few tears slip out, “Do you know how hard it was to watch you have other girlfriends while I stayed stuck on you. Yes I did give the Islander player my number, but I told him I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I told every guy that had any interest in me that I wasn’t interested. You want to know why Jack? Because they weren’t you.”
Jack stayed silent not knowing what to say.
“And now you just come back here like you didn’t single handed break my heart last time I saw you,. Oh wait I didn’t even see you when it happened did I Jack.” She cries some more finally letting all of her emotions out. “I should hate you, I really should. But tell me why I feel nothing but love for you.”
“Lucy, there is nothing I regret more than, breaking up with you. I was a coward, but please give me another chance.” He wipes away her tears, “Those girls were my failed attempts on forgetting you, but nothing worked. I know I don’t deserve it but please give me a second chance.”
“I don’t know Jack, I don’t want to promise you anything. But I can say, I’m willing to try again slowly.” Jack smiles and he holds her hand. 
“That’s all I could ask for.”
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Between hockey games and Lucy’s shows, the two spent any free time together. Despite the busy schedules, they found the time to go out. Tonight, Lucy was singing the national anthem at Jack’s game versus the Islanders.
“Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the star of broadway’s Wicked, Lucy Masters, with the singing of our national Anthem.”
The crowd cheers before getting silent for Lucy. She sings beautifully and when she hits the high note at the end, the crowd went wild. The song finishes, and she finally locks eyes with Jack. She gives him a little wave before she is ushered off the ice.
At the end of the game, the devils won 4-0. Carson ,who surprisingly wore a Hughes 43 jersey instead of his regular Islander Barzal 13 Jersey, was hyped by the win. He went into a rant as the pair waited for Jack to leave the locker room.
“Damn I miss hockey.” Lucy loves seeing Carson happy more than anything. She was glad that he decided to come, seeing it as a step in the right direction.
“You know if you aren’t too rusty at it, we can go shoot the puck together one day.” Both Lucy and Carson look over and see Jack. He pulls Lucy into a hug. “Hands down the best performance of the night goes to you Miss Lucy.”
“I am not so sure about that, a shut out game and both you and Timo getting two points? Much more impressive.” Lucy praises Jack causing Carson to gag.
“Come on Carson, let’s leave the lovers alone.” Luke comes out of nowhere and directs Carson towards his car. Lucy and Carson were spending the night at Jack and Luke’s place so they didn’t have to drive back to New York this late. So Luke was okay with driving Carson back while Jack and Lucy have a car to themselves. Carson leaves with Luke, but not until he sent a few menacing glares at Jack.
“Just so you know, the team chirped the hell out of me when Luke told them how scared I am of Carson.” To be fair, now that Carson is one of the best high school prospects of the 2025 class and has scouts coming to almost every game now, especially since he is a leftie, he’s a scary teenager.
“In your defense, his pitch is reaching an average of 88 miles per hour as a junior. I would be scared of him too.” Jack looks at Lucy and smiles as he sees her in his jersey.
“You look so good in my number.” He steps back and acts like he is taking a photo of her with an invisible camera, “Picture perfect baby.”
“Jacky you are such a dork.”She turns around and walks away while smiling. Jack runs up behind her and pulls her into a hug.
“I’ll gladly be a dork if that means I’m your dork.”
Jack had been miserable as Lucy was gone at a two week long theater camp. Luke thought if Lucy didn’t get home soon, Quinn would kill Jack. The day she was coming back, Jack sat by the door waiting for Ellen to come back with Lucy. He originally wanted to come with but he forgot to finish his chores the night before so Ellen made him stay home and wait.
When his mom’s car pulls in to the driveway, Jack bolts out the door, almost like a wild animal. Lucy gets out of the car and Jack tackles her in a hug. He gives her small kisses all over her face.
“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” Jack repeats this mantra as Lucy struggles to wiggle out of his hold. All the while, Lucy is dying of laughter.
“Get off me you dork.” It takes Quinn pulling Jack off to get Lucy free. He then picks up Lucy like a sack of potatoes and runs away from Jack. The boys run around, as Jack tries to get Lucy back.
“Quinn put the poor girl down.” Ellen calls out. Quinn puts Lucy down carefully and Jack runs over and grabs on to Lucy like a kid hold their favorite toy.
“Fear not fair damsel, your hero has saved you from the ugly ass troll.” (QUINN BABY DON’T LISTEN TO THIS YOU ARE VERY PRETTY) Quinn just flips off his brother before heading back into the house, “I think your hero deserves a kiss for saving you.”
“You’re lucky I find you cute, you dork.” Lucy pulls him down into a kiss. Jack can’t help but smile.
“I may be a dork, but I’m your dork.”
“You’ll always be my dork Jacky.” Lucy pulls him down into a kiss. Their first kiss in five years. Jack would freeze time and live in this moment forever if he could. Sadly time has to go on and the pair pull apart. “Let’s go home Jacky.”
Hand in hand, they leave the arena, full of hope for the future of their relationship.
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sentientgolfball · 9 months
Text
Lessons
I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.
18+ MDNI
Word Count: 3051
Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence
Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.
“Look at just how fucking wet they are.” 
“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?” 
Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot
“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.” 
You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit. 
“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh. 
The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse. 
He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there. 
You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out. 
When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss’ grasp much to his chagrin. 
“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…” 
You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door 
“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets. 
That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes 
“Can I taste them? Please?” 
“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.” 
Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat. 
“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.” 
Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still. 
“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.” 
You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him. 
“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval 
“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”
Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically. 
Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.” 
You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place. 
“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong. 
He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”
Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.” 
Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix. 
“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin. 
Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge. 
“Don’t stop. So fucking close.” 
Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again 
“Hands off.” 
“Don’t you fucking dare.” 
Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.
“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities. 
“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.
“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip. 
Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there. 
“Find the thread and isolate it.” 
You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment. 
Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”
“Humans are easy.” He says quietly 
Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”
You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life. 
“You wanna stop just say the word.” 
You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving 
“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down. 
“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.
“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat. 
“Consider it your final exam then.”
Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole. 
“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off. 
Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan. 
“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. 
Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal. 
He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.
“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out. 
He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him. 
Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm. 
“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest. 
He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high. 
“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.
Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.” 
“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face. 
“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens. 
Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.” 
You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.
 “Swiss what the hell?!” 
“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”
You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels. 
He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation. 
I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.
You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.
“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” 
Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.
“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.”  You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom. 
You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”
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bridgetoesoteria · 3 months
Text
💞 🦢Your Dream Honeymoon... + how will your connection evolve
Today the cards will be your travel agent. 2 tickets for the lovely newlyweds to their dream destination...
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Take a deep breath and choose a pile (left to right).
PILE 1
Off the bat:
So I am immediately getting a trippy feeling. You could be under the influence. For some of you this would be something you and your person have in common. For others, it'll be more of a "when in Rome" kinda thing. It feels surreal in some way. For some, you might have eloped and you are trying to process the decisions you've just made. You could try a lot of "exotic" foods.
4-card spread: Queen of Pentacles, 2 of Swords (R), 6 of Swords, 9 of Wands (R). BOTD: 6 of Wands.
It will definitely be somewhere that you would have to fly to. Some of you will have to get over a fear of heights or flying for this. Where ever you and your spouse have chosen won't be near a lot of water. It could be a landlocked country or somewhere in dryer climate. Like a country with deserts. That's interesting that imagery is coming up because you also chose the picture of Dubai.
In this deck, there are soo many cards with water but all I pulled were cards with desert like images. The one card with a large lake came out reversed. I think you will love the weather. Maybe you enjoy warmer climates or this could even be "home" for some of you. I think you will be very well-prepared for this honeymoon. Money will be right, activities will be planned...I think this is a place you have done plenty of research on. I am getting the message again that this could be "home" in some way. So you could have ancestral ties to the area and it will be very grounding. You and your partner will feel deeply connected to the land and may even consider relocating there permanently. Some of you can afford this because you are in the medical field (with a very nice salary).
I think it will be quite a bougie experience tbh. I see you being waited on, hand and foot. Literally! I am seeing back rubs, possibly meditation or some nontraditional, holistic care. You could be going to the spa, going for walks/hikes, receiving acupressure or massages, and maybe laying on hot rocks?? You could ride horses or get into some kind of vehicle that is connected to an animal. Your spouse will probably be someone that is quite busy and usually super serious. But they will set that aside for you. They really want to be in the moment and start the marriage off right by showing you, "I will prioritize us, when we are together." They probably have already sent out a company wide email letting everyone know they do not want to be bothered from X day to X day. Even if the place is on fire...figure it out!
Oooh so you will definitely feel cared for and safe with your person. If you usually feel like everything is all on you, you will see that your person wants to lighten the load. That is why you will be able to relax and enjoy these different treatments. I also see that your person would have little surprises planned. Like you think you're just going out for dinner, then a guy with a camel shows up on some Princess Jasmine type shit. And you're all shocked but of course your person knew. Then your fairytale ride takes you to either a beach or a restaurant. It will be somewhere empty because your person made sure it was that way, even if they had to shut down the restaurant for the night. There will live music but probably more instrumental than singing. And of course, there will also be delicious food 😋
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Your Connection:
So I was already kind of getting an idea of how the honeymoon would change you as a person (i.e. less tense, more secure). But how will it change your connection?.... You will definitely feel like you are being brought closer together. There may be tension for some reason at the start of the honeymoon. I feel like it will mostly be you. Maybe thinking too much of the past and worrying about the future. But you both will acknowledge your struggles, your strengths, and what you hope is yet to come.
Specifically, some of you may come up with a business idea while on your honeymoon or may decide to view property. You will both learn how to be patient with one another, when to swallow your pride and realize if this is who you want to spend the rest of your life with, that's a long time to be arguing and doing the "tit for tat" thing. So your relationship dynamic will mature quite a bit. You could be one of those couples that everyone sees as OTP. This could inspire jealousy because you both stand out. You may have had rough times, I think mostly due to your busy schedules, but you always know that you want to be with each other.
You will both be healing your self-worth problems. You will become comfortable with standing out. Your person will stop defining themselves by their financial success. I think you will be surrender to the experience and just allow yourselves to be raw. I am getting that trippy feeling again. Like a really deep, amazing indie movie, that changes your views on life afterward. If you or your partner are usually more skeptical, I think you will tap into your spiritual side. Your partner could join you for nature walks, stargazing, meditation, or yoga. Lastly, you may put on some kind of special show or choreographed event for your partner. You will grow in confidence by the end of this trip.
PILE 2
Off the bat:
I'm getting a hustle and bustle kinda vibe. So maybe your honeymoon will be somewhere busy. Some of you may visit a major city or even a quaint town that has a busy market or town life. There could be a lot of exploring and buying cool trinkets to remember your trip. You could be more of a lowkey couple, because this feels like you are both on a normal trip. You aren't overdoing the "romantic honeymoon" thing. Its like you are going on a trip you otherwise would have, but you are doing it together, as a married couple now. That is enough to make it special. Perhaps you come from a small or quiet town so its nice to explore something different. I am seeing a younger couple
4-card spread: The Empress, 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Cups, King of Swords (R). BOTD: The Wheel of Fortune.
I see you both doing lots of touristy stuff. I think you will love it. The vibe is kind of like, you came from a different country and always heard about the place you want to go to. For example: You are outside the US, but finally getting the chance to visit NYC. You want to see historic landmarks, go to amusement parks, and stay at a well-known hotel. Some of you are going back to where you first met!
This is weird but y'all might participate in a protest. You either knew this was going to happen or kind of get caught up in one when you go out. But I think you will take all of it in and enjoy how authentic the experience feels. If you or your partner have kids, you will enjoy the time away. You will see a more relaxed side of your partner. They will be much more social. Its possible you could meet up with friends or family. You will be talking about the future a lot. Probably start being more concrete about when you would like kids and how many.
This is weird and very specific. (I meant for this to be a hypothetical, fun reading). Some of you could be going on this honeymoon, before your wedding. So maybe after the wedding one of you will have to go for an extended period of time. For others, this could be a babymoon. So you could be going on a little couples get away before you are busy with a newborn. Finally, some of you will find out you are pregnant while on your honeymoon and this will be really shocking to your partner, but I think you will both be excited.
You will spend a lot of time together. Going out for drinks, grabbing coffee, flirting, and having private conversations. Even when you are in a busy room, it will feel like you are alone. Your eyes will be locked on one another. You may be writers, or creatives in some way, you will have plenty of inspiration and will probably take time to "work." But it won't feel like work. You could both find a nice coffee shop and sit next to each other writing. I think you will still find chances to sneak away and enjoy your own company. You want to bask in the new emotions and excitement of marriage.
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Your Connection:
You will probably experience a bunch of synchronicities that give you important messages or show that your ancestors/spirit team support your connection. You will feel like best friends, but also deeply in love. You will both be much more comfortable with each other afterwards. You will be a dream team. I'm not sure if either of you would verbalize this, but you will be extremely aware of how healthy this connection is. So, maybe you haven't had the best experiences. You will communicate in a healthy way, you will express your love to each other, and will always put a smile on each other's face. Arguments will probably be few and far between, because you will mostly be a harmonious couple. You will have great communication.
I think you specifically will receive a lot of downloads while on your honeymoon. You will both have positive, growth mindsets. Maybe this honeymoon will end up giving birth to something much larger.
PILE 3
Off the bat:
This pile feels "broodier" than others. Maybe you and your spouse are kind of goth or alternative. Or you could like darker things. You may be the type to go choose a historic destination for your honeymoon and tour ruins, old castles, or places the locals claim are haunted 👻
You could choose to visit a sleepy town. Somewhere that might be cloudy and rainy. Or, this could just be the time of year you are visiting. So this could be a fall honeymoon. Omg that's kind of a vibe tbh! Pretty fall leaves, ghost stories, cozy vibes with your boo 🤗
4-card spread: The Lovers, 5 of Wands, 3 of Wands (R), Ace of Cups. BOTD: 10 of Pentacles
I think you will probably choose somewhere nontraditional for your honeymoon. People will definitely have something to say about it. But I am going to ignore that energy because its not like its their honeymoon. In some way, you will be facing your fears. I think it may be through standing up to your family.
You will probably choose somewhere private, with a lot of nature. I see you visiting gardens and orchards. Some of you may pick apples or something while you are on this trip. You will probably face your fears of intimacy as well. Your partner will be all over you. Some maybe the privacy energy is because you will rarely leave your accommodations. You'll spend a lot of time in your rented property or the "do not disturb" sign will always be on your door lol. This could be your first time or it could be the first time you are with someone you truly feel safe with and connect to.
I don't know why but I am getting a sulky energy from you. So you may be upset with your spouse or feel shy around them. Not sure if this is an arranged marriage? I guess its also possible that being married and totally alone is making you feel shy. You may want to chill and read but your partner will pull you out of your comfort zone They will make you try new things, new foods, visit new places, even do something that feels silly and childish. Like maybe you are passing a carnival and they buy tickets because they want you to get on the carousel. They would probably win you a lot of stuff at the booths too lol. You could have had a tough past and this person just wants to see you happy. They want this honeymoon to be everything you have dreamed of and more. They could be trying to take your mind off of whatever could be bothering you.
You will eventually see that your partner is on your side, and that you feel so defensive because you are too used to supressing your happiness.
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Your Connection:
One of you will definitely be leaving the past behind. Whoever is the one that is protective mode. I think it is you, but it could be the other person too. Your person will feel overwhelmed at the start of the honeymoon. They are happy with you but they want to know how to support you better. Their thought process is "this is our fresh start." I think you will grow more and more open to this. It will be scary but it will be much easier to do because you know you have someone solid in your corner. This honeymoon could finally convince you to go to therapy or confront some longstanding issue that you have never felt strong enough to face. This honeymoon could lead to a larger journey of self-discovery and accountability for both you and your person. I think you will learn how to be there for one another with it being codependent or enabling.
I really wanted to get this reading out to y'all. I know I promised a double post, so there will be another after this 😊🤞
I am also going to be doing personals so check out that post too 😘
I hope it resonated.
~ K
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
Text
Devil's night [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 4k
summary: Spencer is excited about his Halloween plans and you join him.
Directly based on episode 6x06, because I felt so bad about how the team behaves with Spencer that I needed to do something
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“I see someone’s feeling spooky today,” Morgan smiled, looking you up and down.
You were wearing a cardigan knitted with various prints related to the time of year; pumpkins, ghosts, black cats, and candy corn, over a bright purple skirt and tall boots. Normally you would dress more formally due to the implied dress code the FBI operated under, but it was the weekend and Halloween was around the corner, so you could skip a suit day to wear one of those many scary-related items you had. After all, Halloween was your favorite holiday of the year. It was fun for everyone when you were a child, but as you grew up, your love for said celebration became a little weirder for others, so when you became an adult, you didn't think anyone shared such excitement about the date. Well, that is until you met Spencer Reid.
“It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity” you heard him say, as he walked in with an already quite annoyed Emily Prentiss.
You knew that sometimes Spencer talked too much, but you hated that the rest of your coworkers got upset like that when he was talking about something that he was passionate about. Now the subject was, clearly, the next date.
"All I asked was what he was doing this weekend" she complained to Rossi. Spencer ignored her and continued with his cathedra as he settled into the empty space next to you.
“I'm toying with the notion of either going to the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet theater or the re-enactment of the XIX century Phantasmagoria,” he said and your heart did a little skip. You and Reid had argued on a few occasions, outside of work, about Poe’s works and although you didn't know what the second thing he had mentioned was, it sounded very interesting.
“What is a Phantasmagoria?” you asked nicely and when your partner noticed your presence he smiled widely, as if he was just noticing you in the room. The others all pouted in anticipation of the explanation to come and you hoped Spencer hadn't noticed.
“Phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in France, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic” he explained to you, while he took a seat and waved his hands from side to side. You were completely unaware of the term so you slightly parted your lips in astonishment.
"Sounds interesting"
"I have an extra ticket, do you want to come with me?" he asked you, almost immediately, with the biggest smile of all. Honestly, the invitation took you by surprise, especially who was asking, and Spencer seemed to see it on your face. “I mean, if you don't have plans this weekend. You can say no if you want."
“I'd really love to,” you exclaimed, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea, and watched his eyes sparkle with joy as he nodded.
The others wanted to make fun of it a bit, but Garcia didn't give them time to when she handed you the case files. When Hotch told you that you were going to fly to Detroit, your partner complained loudly and his gaze inevitably went to you, since you were supposed to have made plans together literally three minutes ago, but knowing that the unsub only attacked during these three days of the year. You had no choice but to accept your fate. You have never gone from feeling completely happy to being so disappointed in such a short time.
"I guess you better forget what I just told you," Reid sighed, as you left the conference room.
"Maybe we'll make it on time, when is the show?"
"This Sunday. The puppet theater is at 9:00 pm, the last Phantasmagoria show is at 11:00 pm. None are sold out yet"
"If we get back in time enough, I'll accompany you both, what do you say?" you muttered, trying to be as positive as possible, as you took your friend's arm with both hands and gave it a friendly squeeze. Spencer was taller than you, but thanks to the boots you were wearing and the extra inches they gave you, your eyes were almost at the level of his “Don't be discouraged.”
"I like your clothes today," he suddenly murmured. Sometimes he would give you those kinds of sweet compliments, perhaps as thanks for the kindness with which you always treated him, and you would almost always blush "The drawings are beautiful. Do you know why pumpkins became so representative?"
"Jack-o'-lantern," you replied, rather proud of yourself for knowing the answer.
"But did you know that in the original story it wasn't a pumpkin but a turnip?" he said and you were silent. But he didn't make fun of you for it, instead he saw a new opportunity to impress you "Yeah, you see, in the original legend Stingy Jack..."
The rest of the team, who was in front of you, shared knowing looks as if they were pitying you for having activated the doctor's rambling mode, but the truth was that you were fascinated with every word that came out of his mouth. Sometimes you couldn't believe how there was someone as intelligent in the world as your cute companion and as he spoke you prayed, perhaps with all your might, that you could catch the unsub in time to be able to fulfill the plans in the ones he had included for the weekend.
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Almost as if by divine handiwork, the case was solved just in time for the plane to land and you two to rush home to get dressed for the theater. Hotch was even sympathetic to you and told you that the paperwork could wait for Monday just because he had heard of your plans, which you were immensely grateful for.
Spencer was happy that you agreed to go out with him, especially since the idea of asking you out was completely impulsive. It was true that he had an extra ticket but he never thought of having the courage to ask you to accompany him, much less did he think that you would be interested in it, since he was regularly ignored by his colleagues at work. It was something he had never discussed with anyone, only his beloved and gone Elle, but it haunted him almost every day.
Luckily for him, Spencer had prepared the wardrobe he wanted to wear in advance, and all he had to do was take a warm shower, shave, and put on some cream and cologne to get ready. In addition to, of course, styling his short hair as best he could.
He felt particularly concerned by his appearance that night and he pondered whether you would think he looked silly wearing a 19th century French suit. He had bought it last month and it was stored with his costume collection, which no one on the team knew about yet and he didn't intend for that to change.
He had offered to pick you up and when he got to your building, he felt strangely nervous. The doorman was a kind older man that he had seen a couple of times, so when he said that he was looking for you, the man called you on the phone to let you know.
They were silent for a few moments and he began to rock on his heels to kill some time.
“Will you take her trick-or-treating?” the doorman, Tony, joked. Spencer didn't take it the wrong way, instead he laughed it off.
"It's not the plan, but if someone takes pity on us and gives us some I won't complain" he replied and now it was the employee's turn to laugh.
"I've seen you before, are you her boyfriend?"
“Coworkers,” Spencer clarified, with a smile.
"Ah, so you're also a policeman?" although it wasn't the proper term, Spencer didn't know if you had hidden your real job for personal reasons, so he held back from explaining to the man that you were actually a profiler.
"Yes, something like that"
Tony wanted to ask more questions, but the sound of the elevator caught the attention of both men and revealed your figure.
"No fucking way," you breathed, looking your friend up and down and if he hadn't gone dumbfounded, he probably would have said the same thing "Look at you!"
"Where did you get that?" he asked in amazement. Although Spencer had thought that you would show up in a costume, he hadn't expected to see you like this. 
"You don’t like it?"
"No, I love it" he hastened to say, when he heard the insecurity in your voice "It's just… I didn't expect to see you as a 19th-century French lady"
You were wearing a beautiful black dress with lace details that obviously alluded to the fashion of the time, black satin gloves, plus a discreet hat on your well-groomed hair and boots that Reid had seen before, but they made a great combination with the outfit. The man's surprise was because he had invited you with such short notice and yet you had gotten the perfect costume and not only that, but one that conveniently matched his.
“And I didn't expect to see you as a French gentleman either” you laughed, as you reached out to wrap him in a hug "I guess it was pure fate"
“Or the fact that we are going to see a recreation of a 19th-century show. Our brains thought the same thing.”
“It doesn't sound so charming when you say it like that" you complained amused and he realized it was true "Shall we go? I don’t want to be late"
Spencer nodded and immediately offered you his arm to hold onto as you walked, a gesture that made you believe you were really entering a time tunnel.
“Enjoy your night”
"Thanks, Tony! Don't scare too many kids and don't eat too much candy,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as you followed Spencer out the door.
He guided you to his car and opened the passenger door for you and then he got in himself to start the engine and get going.
"I really can't believe that we got a couple's costume by pure coincidence"
“Couple costume?”
“Yes, they are those costumes of the same theme that you use with a couple. You know, like the people who dress up as Fred and Daphne or Morticia and Gomez”
Spencer didn't know the last couple, but he did have a vague recollection that the first ones mentioned were from Scooby Doo due to the cartoons he came from as a child.
"Oh" he sighed "Yes, get it”
“Honestly this was a last-minute thing. My downstairs neighbor studies theater and we are good friends, so I asked her if she had anything in her curiosities bag that could help me and she pulled out this dress. It was enough to adjust it a little" you told him, putting both hands on the neck of your dress and smiling from ear to ear "I couldn't believe it, it was really a stroke of luck”
"It looks so pretty on you," he said suddenly, looking away from the road just for a moment to check that you had heard him. "I don't think I told you when I saw you, but that's what I thought."
"Thank you then," you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm a little.
Spencer started talking to you about the creation of puppet theaters and, of course, the Poe stories you were going to witness, with you interrupting him only to point out some decoration along the way that you thought was cute. On Halloween you almost always preferred to stay at home to watch horror movies or go down to the hall to distribute candy to the youngest children, with very discreet costumes to avoid the evil looks of adults. But now you were excited to be doing this with Spencer, who was maybe the only person you knew who wouldn't make fun of you under any circumstances. Your relationship was based on a certain complicity, perhaps more than you had with any member of your unit.
Arriving at the site, he reopened your door and offered you his hand to help you down, which you took without complaining. Once you were outside, he repeated the gesture from when he picked you up from your building and in this way you walked to the entrance, where a woman disguised as who you assumed was Berenice (a Poe character) sold you a couple of tickets.
It was a lovely show and when you weren't looking at the puppets you took the time to admire your companion, whose eyes revealed the emotion of a child. You never thought the doctor was fond of a thing like this and now that you had discovered it you found it quite adorable. As you left you asked him if he was a Muppets fan by any chance and, to your surprise, he was. Spencer even told you that he had a couple of Kermit the Frog items that his mom bought him when he was little, but he also told you not to tell anyone or he'd be embarrassed and you pinky promised him.
You still had an hour between the two shows so you decided to go to a nearby park where there were lots of food stalls: candy apples, popcorn, candy, lemonade, and you even got to one where a Hispanic woman offered you pieces of candied pumpkin. You had to take off your gloves (which he kept carefully in his jacket) when you bought a few pieces of this last one for the two of you and when you tried it you agreed that it was delicious. The woman told you that in Mexico, her country of origin, she always served them to her children with a glass of milk.
Spencer spared no expense just to fulfill all your cravings, even though you refused, so when you got in the car to go to the Phantasmagoria your stomach was pretty full. The place where it would take place was a gray tent in the open air, with a dais in front and several wooden benches arranged so that enough people could fit in. As you had arrived with some time, you took a seat on a bench in the second row and waited patiently for the show to start.
Suddenly all the lights around you went out, leaving only the ones pointing to the front of the stage, and a presenter dressed as a magician appeared.
“For many centuries, wandering spirits have inhabited the world unseen by the human eye, always confined to the world of shadows…” his voice was mesmerizing and kept you on the edge of your seat, watching him carefully “but for a certain time of the year, their magic grows and they are able to cross the barrier that separates us…”
The entire tent was filled with smoke and the audience, including you, looked around trying to figure out what would happen. The presenter continued giving his gloomy monologue and, although you didn’t imagine how, you even felt that the temperature decreased a little with each word he said. Suddenly even the lights that were pointed at him began to dim and by the time he finished explaining to you the whole place was in complete darkness.
There was silence for a moment to build tension and then there was an explosion that made you jump in place. To tell you the truth, you didn't expect much from the show, you thought that being a recreation it would have many shortcomings, but when the first figure appeared on the roof your heart skipped a beat.
You weren't a scared person under normal circumstances and your resistance to the horrifying images you saw at work on a daily basis shows this, but this time perhaps all the environmental components of that night were what made you feel that way. A loud laugh resounded and then another pair of specters appeared, this time flying at the height of the audience and even passing through some of you.
Spencer's reaction was nothing like the rest. Despite his fear of the dark he was totally fascinated by all the images, his mind already working to decipher the magic trick that was being performed. What finally got his breath caught was the feel of your hand searching his. He was still shielding your gloves so he could feel the cool temperature of your fingers, as opposed to how warm he was in comparison. Even knowing that doing that was a reflex act due to fear, he stopped paying attention to the show to look at your hand on top of his, with that noticeable difference in size.
Just as you had admired him during the puppet show, he took the time to observe your expressions now. Your face lit up from time to time by the illusions around you and every time you startled you squeezed his hand harder, in addition to adjusting your body against his as if you were looking for some kind of protection. Spencer had gone out with friends many times and of course with the rest of his female colleagues at work, however none of them had behaved like you were doing. He wasn’t bothered by your behavior, but rather intrigued, since you seemed quite comfortable taking refuge in him to feel safe. Although he knew how to identify qualities in people, he sometimes had a hard time crossing the line of identifying them to really admire them. When he thought of JJ, he thought of a charismatic woman. When he thought of Emily, he thought of intelligence. And when he thought of Penelope, he always saw joy and optimism. But when he thought of you, there were too many qualities to focus on just one: he thought of kindness, calmness, creativity, wit, beauty, empathy... what a big heart you had and how at the end of the day you were perhaps the only one who could make him smile. When he invited you to join him, he did it because he knew you had the same feeling towards scary things, but now that you were there, looking so pretty and holding his hand tightly, he thought maybe there was something else going on between you. You were the closest thing he had to a best friend, though he had never said so verbally, and that night he wanted to be nowhere else but by your side.
Only when the lights came back on did he realize that the spectacle had been forgotten to him, since the whole time he had been looking at you.
“That was all for today, my friends. Thank you for these wonderful performances and remember to recommend us to your friends the next time we're in town. Have a spooky night, all of you."
“I can't believe it, did you see all that? It was just awesome! I didn't think it was going to be this good” you said, completely excited, as you turned in his direction. Apparently you weren't even aware that your hands were clasped until he got up from the seat and helped you imitate him with that grip. Though you thought of apologizing for that, you didn't, fearing to embarrass yourself further.
“It was amazing, even for me it was hard to figure out the trick”
“Why do you want to figure it out? admit it's only magic, doctor. Sometimes life is” you laughed, grabbing his arm for the third time like a happy wife would her husband.
You are something magical, he thought, with the words on the tip of his tongue, but not daring to say them to you. 
Although the night was late, the movement in the streets was still the same and Spencer considered asking if you wanted to go somewhere else, but the yawn that escaped you made him think that the best thing for both of us would be to go home to rest. After all, the case had exhausted you.
"Back to your house, right?" he asked, just to be sure and you nodded with a smile.
The road wasn’t long, you only had to take care of the naughty at night so as not to receive any damage, so when you least expected it, you were already in front of your building. Although you intended to say goodbye, Spencer told you that he would accompany you to the door of your apartment just to make sure that you arrived completely safely, because he knew better than anyone how much could happen to a woman alone, even if it was such a short journey, and he didn't want to risk you. Tony was still awake and greeted you nicely as you walked in, so you could then get on the elevator and press the necessary button.
“I seriously have no words to thank you for today, Spencer. Except for that one time I ended up in the hospital for eating so much candy, this has been my best Halloween ever,” you admitted with a laugh, as you leaned in for a big hug.
"Thank you for accompanying me. I'm really glad you had fun, because I had a great time too”
There was a dead space between you, in which you just looked at each other with a smile. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the night had been wonderful and maybe it was just that you two were trying to drag it out as long as possible.
“Spencer”
"Yeah?"
"Before you go, can I ask you something?"
"Whatever" he responded immediately. He got a little nervous thinking that he wouldn't be able to satisfy your curiosity by ignoring the topic you were going to ask him about and hoped that wasn't the case.
You waited another second before speaking.
"How frowned upon do you think it was for 1800s society for a woman to steal a kiss from her companion?"
Spencer's eyes danced a little in his sockets and you thought he was processing your request in disguise, until he looked at you again and spoke with complete assurance:
“Very frowned upon, surely. At that time, it was usual for men to court women, who were very repressed from making their own decisions or living their sexuality as they pleased. A woman who kissed a man was considered indecent."
You wanted to correct him, tease him or, as a last resort, simply pull him by his shirt and plant the kiss you had wanted to give him all the way. But you didn't do any of that, you just laughed softly and enjoyed his smirk for telling you the right answer.
“I was afraid of that. It's good to know” said this, you carefully approached him and placed a small kiss on his cheek, seeing him slightly surprised by the act “See you tomorrow at work. Call me when you get home”
"I will do that. Rest and see you later"
"Bye”
Just as he said, he called you a few minutes later to announce that he had arrived at his destination so you could sleep peacefully.
Spencer didn't realize that you had explicitly asked for a kiss until Morgan told him and while his friend laughed, he felt like the luckiest guy of all and, at the same time, the dumbest.
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