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zepskies · 2 months ago

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Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending…

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

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the-californicationist · 1 year ago

Note

i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.

lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!

"The Window" (141/Reader)

You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.

He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,

“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”

So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well.

“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”

“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.

“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled.

“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname.

“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.”

“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door.

“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.

“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.

“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.

“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation.

“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen.

So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate.

There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.

“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”

“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,

“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”

He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis.

But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages.

When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare?

And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound.

And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand.

You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt.

It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised.

Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand.

Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load.

Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened.

“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”

“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”

“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”

Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission.

They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking.

“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into.

“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”

He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually.

“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”

“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”

Price chuckled warmly,

“That boy wants a baby so badly.”

You smiled with him, agreeing,

“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!”

Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,

“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”

You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed,

“You’d be good.”

His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,

“D’you think so, Sparrow?”

“I know so.”

“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing.

You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy,

“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”

You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,

“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes.

When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated.

He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time.

“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”

Part 2

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mysteria157 · 5 months ago

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Unsteady Ground

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light angst, just fluffy but scarred Post-Shibuya Nanami

WC: ~2.1k

Summary:

Nanami gets more than what he bargained for with the kind receptionist who checks him in for his weekly appointments.

Notes: Hello! Been thinking about Nanami if he was still injured but survived the Shibuya Incident and this is just one of many little thoughts I've had. Hoping to write more soon!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @awenise

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | Come Say Hi!

What was he thinking?

Nanami Kento prides himself on his self-awareness—a man who can map out his strengths and weaknesses like well-worn territories on a battle-scarred map. He’s the epitome of controlled courage, a figure who could march into dank, shadow-filled alleys and pungent sewage tunnels, his fear compressed into a hard knot beneath his ribs, as he methodically tracked and exorcised curses with cold efficiency.

So this is new. It has to be.

What was he thinking?

He was thinking about you.

You, who he first saw through a haze of discomfort at the reception desk during his initial therapy appointment. His eye patch itched against his brow, a constant reminder of Dagon’s domain and the razor-sharp fish-like teeth that sunk into his flesh. The burns on his left side stretched tight beneath layers of Mederma a constant, throbbing presence. He felt raw, exposed, his mind a blender of pain and misery, haunted by the taunting echoes of a patchwork curse that still clawed at the edges of his dreams.

But then, there was you.

You, whose voice flowed like silk when you asked for his name and date of birth to check him in. Your words, a gentle current, seemed to wash away the stark clinical atmosphere. With each subtle movement, a hint of vanilla across your desk, wrapping him in its warmth, coaxing his tense shoulders away from his ears.

You, who lingered in his mind long after each encounter. Your daily ask about how he was doing, though met with the same stoic response, became a small ritual he found himself anticipating. Your presence had become a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, somehow making the hard recovery of his life a little more bearable.

You, whose eyes lit up many weeks later as you spoke of the Christmas market in town, your voice brimming with excitement about the newly opened rink.

In that moment, driven by an unfamiliar, overwhelming desire—no, need—to simply fan the flames of whatever was licking to life in his chest, he spoke without thinking. The words tumbled out, clumsy and hopeful. His face flushed, his usually composed demeanor cracking.

“We could go together this weekend if you would like?”

Stupid. Absolutely, unequivocally stupid.

Nanami Kento, what were you thinking?

A soft smile played at the corners of your mouth, your head tilted ever so slightly, curls dancing in a nonexistent wind as you regarded him with warmth and a lifted brow that made his breath catch.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nanami Kento?” Playful and tinged with an essence of hope that made his heart race even faster.

“I—“ He was thinking of you. Only you. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

The cool air of the ice rink slaps Nanami’s face with every person that skates past him, his heart racing with a mix of dread and shame that pulses through his veins. A group of teenagers glides by effortlessly, their showboating twirls and spins threatening to pull his mouth into a sneer. They’re no doubt mocking him as he stands stock still against the glass wall, gloved hands pressed flat as if he could suction himself in place.

He’s endured years of Gojo's incessant, annoying taunts and needless provocations. He’s faced cursed spirits without flinching, coolly efficient even as his watch ticked down the final minutes before six. But now, the prospect of revealing his complete and utter lack of skating ability to you terrifies him more than any supernatural threat.

He had every opportunity to reveal his incompetence. He did nothing as you both laced up your skates. Smiled softly as he listened to you chat animatedly about your favorite winter activities. Kept his spine taut as you adjusted his eye patch, fingers trailing feather light along his jaw. Even as you pulled him by the hand towards the rink, his legs wobbling like a newly born doe on the thin blades, he could only clench his jaw and follow.

He encouraged you to go without him, to warm up while he adjusted to the weight of strangers’ gaze when they saw him for the first time. Even with so much practice, the discomfort, even after all this time, burns more fiercely than Jogo's searing touch ever did.

But he knows he can’t delay the inevitable. Soon, you’ll return, expectant and eager, and he’ll be exposed. The memory of asking you on this date flashes through his mind—a moment of uncharacteristic impulsivity born from longing and evolutionary competition. He’d watched the parade of men filing in for their appointments, each one a potential rival. The brunette who shows up at 3 PM, with his easy smile and effortless charm, was particularly concerning. So Nanami can’t fail now.

Steeling himself, he takes a tentative step. The blades slide across the ice, taking him further than what he intended. His knees lock, his back sways unsteadily, and his arms flail as he tries to find balance.

Somehow, he can hear Haibara laughing from the grave. He can almost see his old friend, red-faced and doubled over, teasing him without shame for never accepting that impromptu hockey game invitation their first year.

“I can do this,” he whispers to himself, desperately praying to whoever will listen for sudden knowledge. He takes another step, a short glide up with his left foot and it’s no good. His legs wobble dangerously, arms windmilling as he grasps for the wall and throws every curse known to heaven and hell, fogging the glass with his acidic words.

The teenagers zoom by again, and he swears one of them snickers, skating backward with infuriating ease as they disappear from view.

“Kento?” Your voice, honeyed with concern, reaches him from behind. It’s too sweet, too kind to quell the embarrassment that runs in rivulets down his back. You appear in the peripheral of his right eye, your lips pinched behind your teeth as you stop in front to take him in. “You’ve never skated before, have you?”

For a fleeting moment, Nanami considers trying again, hoping to slip and knock himself unconscious to escape this mortifying situation.

He feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I may have overestimated my abilities,” he admits, his dry tone a thin cover over his embarrassment as he clings to the rink’s walls like a lifeline.

To his relief, your face softens with understanding rather than judgment. You skate backward with effortless grace, hands outstretched towards him. “Trust me?”

He hesitates, eyeing your hands. Part of him wants to refuse, to flail his way off the rink so he can take off these atrocious skates and maintain some semblance of dignity. But a larger part, the part that has been drawn to you from the start, longs to brush his hands against yours.

Your cream-colored gloves intertwine with his. “Just glide. Follow my feet,” you encourage, slowly skating backward and guiding him forward.

You flow like water on the ice, fluid and sure as if you’re a professional, without a hint of hesitation. He’s mildly green with envy because he’s a stark contrast. Legs stubbornly locked, feet shuffling rather than gliding. He tries to focus on the mechanics of skating, on keeping his balance, but he finds his attention irresistibly drawn to you.

You’ve taken off your winter coat, and a soft navy sweater hugs your curves, accentuating your form. He’s seen it beneath crisp blouses and pencil skirts. Your leggings outline powerful thighs that bunch with your movements, yielding strength and practice. The overhead lights catch the small puffs of air that ghost from your mouth as you guide him patiently across the ice, no sound reaching his ears because he’s not paying attention.

Your hair, a glorious bundle of curls, cascades from beneath a navy beanie, framing your warm face and kissing your cheeks. Small gold hoops in your ears catch the light with each graceful motion, their gentle swaying hypnotizing Nanami, drawing him further into your orbit and away from reality.

He’s lost in admiring you—the kindness in your eyes, the way your presence makes him feel both vulnerable and safe even as his life has been so tragically altered.

It’s in this moment of distraction, his heart full and unguarded, that his skates and your teachings betray him. As you attempt a gentle turn, his feet slip, zipping awkwardly to the side.

“Kento!”

You grip his hands tightly, urging him to regain his footing, but he’s caught in a comical dance, legs churning in place as he fights to stay upright.

“Wait! Kento just—okay, just try to come to a stop. A stop, Kento, don’t—” He attempts to halt, overcompensating with force.

“For fucks sake—!” He grunts, feet flying out from under him, launching up as if he’s a cartoon villain slipping on a banana peel, bucking him off the ice and taking you with him as you both come crashing down onto the unforgiving cold ground.

Somehow, he doesn’t hit his head, but his back and ass scream from the impact. At least you were able to use him to cushion your blow, and you lay across his chest, face buried in his wool coat.

Seconds stretch into eternity as you both lie there, panting. Nanami fixes his gaze on the ceiling, half-hoping the harsh glare of the overhead lights will burn the cornea of his remaining eye and blind him completely from this whole ordeal.

“Well,” you murmur, voice muffled against his coat, “should we get up?”

“No…no, I quite like it down here,” Nanami responds, deadpan delivery masking the absolute sincerity of his words.

You pull your head from his chest to look down at him. Nanami’s eyes meet yours, staring, unblinking, mortified, and wishing the ground could liquefy and then freeze over, trapping him underneath.

With impeccable timing and bone-dry delivery, you quip, “I guess for a first date, this was a good way to break the ice.”

Nanami blinks, processing your words. The absurdity of the situation—the terrible pun, your matter-of-fact delivery, the undignified sprawl of limbs—hits Nanami all at once. A laugh bubbles from deep in his chest, croaking through years of cobwebs as it grows into a full-bodied guffaw.

The sound of his laughter surprises him as much as it does you. Your eyes and his one widen in delight at this rare display of uninhibited joy and soon you’re both laughing, the sound echoing across the rink.

The scarred side of his mouth twinges uncomfortably, but he doesn’t care, he can’t. His laughter, rich and unbridled, hiccups from slightly chapped and upturned lips.

As your laughter subsides, Nanami realizes he can’t remember the last time he laughed like this—free, unguarded, genuinely happy. He takes in the sight of you: your beanie askew, a cascade of messy curls tumbling over one shoulder; ice shavings glistening as they melt on your cheek; your lip gloss slightly smeared, yet still inviting.

Your eyes meet his, and for the millionth time in only a few short weeks of knowing you, his heart skips a beat. With a gentleness, you reach up to adjust his eye patch—a gesture so intimate, so accepting of all that he is, that Nanami hopes it becomes a habit.

He watches, breath hitching, as you shift, sliding yourself up his chest with a soft grunt of effort. For a moment, you hover there, your faces inches apart. Nanami can feel the warmth of your breath, senses the unasked question of what you want to do. And whatever his face conveys, must be enough for a smile that outshines the gleam of the ice around you to blossom on your face as you close the distance.

The press of your glossy lips against his still catches Nanami by surprise. For a heartbeat, he’s frozen, overwhelmed by the sensation. But only a second later, he melts and softens into you. One hand finds the small of your back, the other sliding against your cheek, drawing you closer as he returns the kiss and opens something within him that he knows you’ve found the key to.

For a second, it washes away the pain of his past, the destruction that he took part in, the friends he’s lost along the way, and he feels okay. If only for a moment, and maybe being with you can help the wounds in his chest and along his left side heal over time.

The ice is cold beneath him, his dignity is probably bruised along with his back and ass, but in this moment, given a second chance at life, hopefully with you, he feels wonderfully, perfectly alive.

Thanks for reading!!

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m00nl1ghts1vt · 3 months ago

Note

Can you do an imagine where you and Matt get a dog? Pls & thank u!!

Puppy Love - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - bf!Matt x gf!You Summary - After moving in together, Matt decides it time to become dog parents 🥰🐶 W/c - 989 Warnings - Just some fluff! Strong language! A/n - Thank you for requesting!! My requests are always open! Checks out my masterlist to see my most recent pieces!! Dividers are not mine, credits due to all original owners!

The summer air wisped through the sunroof of the car as you looked over at your boyfriend, smiling at him. The two of you were on the way to the local animal shelter to pick up your very own puppy together. Matt initially wanted to go through a breeder but you decided against it. Adopt, don’t shop, right?

It didn’t matter who you got your new puppy from, as long as he or she was healthy, you didn’t care and honestly Matt didn’t either. He just wanted to see you happy. After months of sharing cute posts of puppies on your social media accounts and squealing every time you seen a person walking their dog, he finally decided it was time to take the next step in your relationship. Co-parenting a dog together was the perfect idea, his only worry was his busy schedule. Since you moved in a couple months ago, he figured it’d be a lot easier on the both of you to take on the responsibility now rather than before like you wanted. You had been begging for the last couple months, so you were thrilled that your longtime boyfriend was finally caving, giving you what you wanted.

Matt usually wasn’t the type to say ‘no’ to you but he was very logical at the same time, so when he initially said no, his heart broke a little bit. He loved spoiling you in any way he could, but he knew you guys weren’t ready to take on a big responsibility, such as a puppy, at that time. It took a lot of work - house training, behavioral training, socializing, and daily walks. Don’t forget how expensive it was. Matt loved to spoil the ones he loved, and he had no doubt you guys would spend an unruly amount of time, and money, in the pet stores as soon as the new addition was added to your family.

“I’m so excited,” you nearly shout. Ever since Matt surprised you with the plans earlier in the week, the anticipation had been building up inside of you. Your smile was still spread ear to ear, like it had been since you got in the car.

“Calm down,” he laughs, “you’re gonna have a heart attack before we get there.”

“I can’t help it. My heart is pounding,” you exclaim, “feel,” taking his hand and placing it on your chest. Matt’s eyes bounce from you, to your chest, and back to the road. An amused look is plastered on his face as he raises his eyebrows in response.

You can feel your heart in your stomach as you spot the animal shelter down the street. The enthusiasm boiling in your gut as he pulls in the parking lot. Matt clears his throat, “now, remember we already picked him out,” he tells you, pulling into an empty spot and putting his car in park. You smile at the thought of him knowing you so well. He knew damn well you’d spent all day at the animal shelter, leaving with more than one animal, probably crying at the fact you couldn’t bring them all home. He knew there was an 80% chance that would happen, so to avoid any tears, he made sure to contact the shelter beforehand. He set up an appointment by himself, picking out a male pup that wasn’t weaned from his mother yet. It gave just enough time to get everything ready for the new addition to the family, surprising you when he told you earlier this week.

Nick and Chris still lived in the same house as you guys still and they were just as excited. They couldn’t wait to meet their new nephew. You sigh, “you’re sure I can’t go in to look?”

He playfully snaps his head towards you, “absolutely positive. One dog, that’s all we’re getting for right now baby,” he tells you while leaning over the center console to press a kiss to your nose. You whine and stick out your bottom lip. He pecks at it, “stay here. I’m gonna go get him,” before getting out of the car and disappearing to the building.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the glass double doors Matt went through. A few minutes later he reappears, this time with a small pup cuddled into his chest. A whisper-like gasp falls from your lips as your eyes meet his and a big smile stretches across his lips as he makes his way to the car.

You follow his movements, not being able to look away. Matt opens the car door, still smiling big as fuck. Your face contorts and the puppy takes over your whole body, “gimme, gimme!”

The sound of your voice makes the puppy raise his head and look at you. Matt raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised at the pups action, “looks like somebody already recognizes his momma’s voice, don’t you?” he coos before handing your first born child to you.

You carefully scoop your new baby boy into your arm, holding your breath the whole time like he was a real newborn baby. He looks up at you and whines, placing his paws on your chest, and bringing his face to yours. Your heart melts immediately as he attacks you with kisses, “you’re so cute. Yes, you are,” you pull out your baby voice, earning a chuckle from Matt.

Looking over at him, he has his phone out snapping pictures of the cute moment. “I’m literally gonna cry. He’s so fucking cute, Matt. What are we naming him?” you ask looking between your boyfriend and the puppy he gifted you.

‘I like Barnaby,” he suggests, somewhat hoping you’d agree.

“Barnaby,” you repeat.” You look down at your pup, studying his face for a moment, “yea. Barnaby fits him,” before looking at Matt with the biggest smile, matching the one he’s been sporting since he walked out of the animal shelter.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months ago

Text

Timeline: Bullying Allegations, Rumors, Investigations, and Leaks

Unless cited, all links from the Daily Mail. Apologies, but all links are "active" webpages. There's just too many. I specifically chose the DM because they always TL;DR their articles, which I'm including here so y'all don't have to go click these links.

This is going to be a little bit of a differently-formatted timeline.

These items in bold red are critical rota stories that sort of blew things open, if you will. These ones will have excerpts.

These items in bold purple are Tumblr gossip.

Let's jump in! One quick disclaimer first: This isn't an exhaustive list. this is only what I've been able to dig up today.

10/28/2018: The real Charles revealed: William’s wild mood swings, Harry’s pre-wedding meltdown and how the Prince of Wales finally earned his boys’ respect, as revealed by his biographer ROBERT JOBSON

The weeks leading up to the wedding had been far more tense for both Harry and Meghan than most people realised. In fact, they’d both felt so stressed that they’d booked a series of appointments with Ross Barr, known as ‘the acupuncturist to the stars’. Whether these treatments had much impact on Harry is debatable. In the build-up to the wedding, says an inside source, he was ‘petulant and short-tempered’ with members of staff. Raising his voice on occasion, Harry would insist: ‘What Meghan wants, she gets.’

11/8/2018: ‘Meghan cannot have whatever she wants’: The Queen ‘had words’ with Harry over his ‘difficult’ bride-to-be’s choice of wedding tiara, royal insider claims

Meghan Markle reportedly wanted a tiara with emeralds for her wedding day

But stones may have been Russian so she had to choose another, it was claimed

Prince Harry allegedly 'hit the roof' when told the headpiece was off-limits

Queen 'had words' with Prince Harry about Meghan, a royal insider claims

Source said Her Majesty said: 'She gets what tiara she's given by me'

11/9/2018: MAJ RAPPED MEG The Queen warned Prince Harry over Meghan Markle’s ‘difficult’ behavior after row over bride’s tiara for royal wedding by Dan Wootton of The Sun

11/10/2018: CDAN Blind. This came out a couple of weeks after tumblr (the old TCD blog) got a massive dose of Aussie tea. Scroll down to August 2019 for those stories.

Apparently the diva behavior on a recent trip was nothing compared to the verbally abusive thrashing the employee took on that trip when things were not perfect. The employee threatened to sue because of how bad the abuse was which would have become public. The employee instead was given a check and an apology by the in-laws of the former actress turned abuser.

11/15/2018: Duke and Duchess of Cambridge join youngsters on The One Show sofa to speak about new anti-bullying app (with Kate in another recycled dress by Emilia Wickstead). This event was the day after Charles’s 70th birthday bash at BP, to which Meghan wore the blood earrings again and the gossip leaked that the Sussexes left early.

11/15/2018: Prince William accuses Facebook of putting ‘profits before values’ as he slams social media giants for being ‘on the back foot’ in fight against fake news, privacy and cyber bullying

11/17/2018: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle change plans to move into Kensington Palace apartment as resident Royal ‘doesn’t want to leave’ by The Sun. This was the first time that rumors of a rift between the Cambridges and the Sussexes over behavior/attitude were published by the printed press.

Kensington Palace isn’t short of luxury accommodation, with Prince William and Kate Middleton living in a lavish 20-room apartment in the grounds. And it is also the residence of The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, The Duke and Duchess of Kent and Prince and Princess Michael of Kent. The Queen’s cousin, The Duke of Gloucester, 74, and his wife Birgitte, 72, live next door to The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in their grand 21-room apartment. Prince Harry is said to have been eyeing up the property as the perfect place to raise a family. But a source claims Danish-born Brigitte is refusing to move. The Mail quoted a friend of Duchess of Gloucester saying: “Birgitte doesn’t want to leave. “And why should she? She and her husband are still full-time working members of The Firm and they were given their apartment by Her Majesty.”

Many blogs read the bolded section above as Harry and Meghan were pushing the Gloucesters hard to move out of KP #1. Not necessarily bullying them, but...not being nice about it either.

11/25/2018: MEGGING A MOVE Prince Harry told staff ‘What Meghan wants, Meghan gets’ as it’s claimed couple are moving away from Wills and Kate to flee ‘goldfish bowl’ Royal life by The Sun

11/26/2018: Is Meghan Markle and Kate Middleton’s rift causing tension between Harry and William and behind Windsor move?

11/28/2018: Meghan Markle ‘left Kate Middleton in tears’ over her strict demands for Princess Charlotte’s bridesmaid’s dress by Jack Royston, The Sun.

This is one of the earliest "admissions" that Meghan sends the staff emails out of business hours.

Rumours of a rift between the duchesses swirled after royal sources revealed emotional Kate, 36, ended up weeping. An insider claimed the incident followed a “stressful” dress fitting — just weeks before Meghan, 37, married Prince Harry. Royal aides did not deny the incident had taken place, amid claims that the duchesses are “very different people”. Princess Charlotte, three, had been trying on her outfit just weeks before Meghan’s wedding to Prince Harry. Meghan, 37, is understood to have insisted on “the very best” for her big day — but the fitting did not go according to her demands. Royal sources said the pressure of the “stressful” fitting became too much for her now sister-in-law, and that Duchess of Cambridge Kate was left shaken and in tears. An insider told the Daily Telegraph: “Kate had only just given birth to her third child, Prince Louis, and was feeling quite emotional.” The reported incident sparked rumours of a rift between Kate and the Duchess of Sussex. The duchesses are understood to have put the incident behind them.

and

Concerns have surfaced that American actress Meghan has at times struggled to fit into royal circles. Sources claimed she regularly “bombarded” staff with early morning calls and emails.

12/11/2018: How royal staff are calling Meghan Duchess Difficult as 2nd aide exits by The Daily Express. This is the first recording of "Duchess Difficult" in the printed press and the first hints that Harry may have confronted William about Meghan's red carpet welcome into the BRF.

The Duchess let slip recently that she's not sleeping well and has resorted to 4.30am yoga sessions to help her relax. However, her early starts, also said to involve firing off emails, aren't to everyone's taste and Meghan will soon have to find an aide more in tune with her lifestyle.

and

Kate was reported to have become upset by the manner in which Meghan speaks to staff and although this has been denied by Kensington Palace it has not stopped the chatter that all is not harmonious.

and

According to one insider, Harry, who is notoriously protective when it comes to his new wife and is desperate for her to enjoy her official duties, is said to be unimpressed with the welcome William has given Meghan. He feels his older brother could have done more, including ensuring that Kate took the American under her wing. Harry, 34, is said to be mindful of how isolated and miserable his mother, Diana, became. In a TV appearance in February, involving the so-called Fab Four of William, Harry, Kate and Meghan, there was an awkward moment when the group was asked about whether they had disagreements. “Oh yes," said William, while Harry tried to make light of the issue by joking that they came "thick and fast". But the insider says: "Harry won't take any criticism of Meghan and he is so sensitive that he often sees criticism or negativity when there isn't any."

12/18/2018: Meghan’s supposedly banned Harry from a traditional shoot, staff are leaving, and it’s claimed courtiers were aghast when this starry picture was (briefly) online. Now, RICHARD KAY asks…Duchess Difficult - or just defiantly different?

Meghan's appearances seem more flashy than other members of Royal Family

Two days after Fashion Awards show, Duchess of Cornwall posed with donkey

Photo from night was posted on Fashion Council's Instagram but quickly deleted

The Queen is said to be determined to 'not allow Meghan to feel unwelcome'

2/6/2019: Meghan Markle’s Best Friends Break Their Silence: ‘We Want to Speak the Truth’ (People 5 Friends article)

2/6/2019: ‘Please stop victimizing me, Dad’: Meghan sent her estranged father a letter after her wedding begging him to stop attacking her in the media - and he responded by asking for a photo shoot

Meghan wrote the letter to her dad, Thomas Markle, shortly after her wedding to Prince Harry

'I have one father. Please stop victimizing me through the media,' she wrote

Friends say Thomas Markle responded by asking Meghan for a photo shoot

'I think she'll always feel genuinely devastated by what he has done,' friends said

Those friends who spoke out said they are concerned about how the 'emotional trauma' of dealing with her father might be affecting Meghan's unborn baby

The five anonymous friends also rejected rumors she was feuding with her sister-in-law Kate Middleton

'There is nothing behind the feud with Kate,' they said. 'It's completely untrue'

2/6/2019: Samantha Markle calls out sister Meghan for ‘bulsshit’ story in which ‘imaginary’ pals praised the pregnant princess saying she is nothing but a ‘wealthy narcissist’ with ‘lie-abetes’

2/7/2019: ‘Harry will be the BEST dad!’ Meghan praises her husband - amid claims she is suffering ‘emotional trauma’ over feud with her own father - as royal couple dazzle at the Endeavour Fund Awards in London. (This is Meghan's cater waiter outfit.)

4/12/2019: The Meghan Markle ‘Duchess Difficult’ Rumors Just Won’t Stop - and This One is Bizarre by Glamour Magazine. I'm including this one because it cites a few Sun articles that are no longer accessible.

According to The Sun, staff members at Frogmore Cottage, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's new home, have been "banned" from using the parking lot closest to the residence and instead must use the one a mile away. The sources who spoke to The Sun seem to confirm a change in parking permits is happening, but here's the kicker: It was reportedly the superintendent of the castle's decision, not Markle's. And yet all the tabloids reporting this story are making it seem as though Markle woke up and randomly decreed, "You know what would be fun? Forcing all the staff members to walk a mile to work each day." The headline in one article starts with "Not in Meg Back Yard," which is apparently the acronym insiders are using to describe this change. That makes it sound like Markle is the one behind the choice.

8/18/2019: Massive Aussie tea and bullying/rude behavior compilation thread posted on Tumblr by The Charlatan Duchess. Original Aussie tea was first published in October 2018 but I can’t find any of the original posts to verify a specific date - all those blogs seem to have been deactivated. Includes gossip/tea about:

Admiralty House/Australia tour

Rumors from Toronto days

Behavior towards customer service staff/industry

“Use and abuse” treatment of entertainment industry staffers

Morocco tour

Birmingham UK visit

Cliveden House/Royal Wedding Eve

Wimbledon 2019 clearout

Vogue and Met Gala

Michelle Obama’s book-reading

South Africa

Attitude towards nannies

10/2/2019: Instagram will roll out its anti-bullying ‘Restrict’ tool to all users so they can avoid nasty commenters without being caught reporting or blocking people

10/28/2019: Author Matt Haig whose poem Meghan Markle included in her Vogue issue defends Duchess against ‘bullies’ - saying ‘you can be famous and struggle’

6/14/2020: Meghan Markle’s painful dilemma: They’re as close as sisters but will she now ditch her best friend Jessica Mulroney after ‘racist bully shame’?

3/2/2021: Royal aides reveal bullying claim before Meghan’s Oprah interview by Valentine Low for The Times - Archived link

(go ahead and give the whole thing a read)

3/2/2021: Buckingham Palace insists it DIDN’T smear Meghan after she accused aides of a ‘calculated campaign’ against her - after ex-staff claim she ‘bullied two PAs’ and ‘drove them out’ of Kensington Palace, four days before explosive Oprah interview will be aired

The Times reported a spokesman for the Sussexes vehemently denying the claims, saying they were 'the victims of a calculated smear campaign based on misleading and harmful misinformation'

A bullying complaint was lodged against the Duchess of Sussex by a senior member of Kensington Palace staff before she and Prince Harry quit as working royals

The Times reported it was made in October 2018 by Jason Knauf, who worked as communications secretary to Harry and Meghan

He is said to have claimed the duchess 'drove two personal assistants out of the household and was undermining the confidence of a third staff member'

Sensationally, the couple's lawyers told the newspaper it was 'being used by Buckingham Palace to peddle a wholly false narrative' before this weekend's interview with Oprah Winfrey

3/2/2021: Meghan Markle ‘Saddened’ by ‘Attack on Her Character’ amid Bullying Allegations from Palace Staffers by People Magazine

"The Duchess is saddened by this latest attack on her character, particularly as someone who has been the target of bullying herself and is deeply committed to supporting those who have experienced pain and trauma," a spokesperson for the Duke and Duchess of Sussex said in a statement obtained by PEOPLE. "She is determined to continue her work building compassion around the world and will keep striving to set an example for doing what is right and doing what is good."

3/3/2021: Buckingham Palaces releases a statement concerning the bullying allegations reported by The Times

3/3/2021: Royals’ Meghan ‘bully’ crisis: As Buckingham Palace launches an unprecedented investigation into sensational bullying claims against Meghan, make no mistake this is a crisis that echoes the Abdication, writes Richard Kay

Meghan Markle is the subject of bullying complaints from her former royal aides in a leaked email

Jason Knauf alleged she forced two assistants out of the household amid claims of 'emotional cruelty'

Buckingham Palace is launching an unprecedented investigation into the allegations, deepening the crisis

3/3/2021: Meghan makes jaw-dropping claim the Royal Family has ‘perpetuated falsehoods’ about her and Harry in Oprah interview teaser released just hours after Palace launched sensational probe into allegations she bullied staff

CBS has released a second clip previewing Sunday night's Oprah Winfrey interview with Meghan and Harry

In the clip, the Duchess of Sussex is seen sitting alone talking to the talk show host

She is asked by Winfrey whether she had worried about the consequences of speaking out

Markle replies that she felt she had no choice, because the Royal Family were 'perpetuating falsehoods'

She said that, despite the risk of 'losing things', she felt that 'there is a lot that has been lost already'

The clip, recorded several weeks ago, aired on the day Buckingham Palace announced a bullying inquiry

The inquiry was launched after The Times on Tuesday reported allegations of bullying by the duchess's staff

3/3/2021: ‘I can’t ever see those two back on the balcony’: Palace launches probe into Meghan bullying claims - leaving past and present Royal staff ‘shaken’ by ‘unhappy memories’ being brought up about a particularly ‘toxic period.’

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out'

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear

Buckingham Palace announced a formal probe into the allegations in statement

3/3/2021: Revenge of the Sussex survivors’ club: The extraordinary inside story of how a fairytale turned into a nightmare of ‘traumatised’ staff - by Royal Editor REBECCA ENGLISH, who saw so much of it herself

Members of 'Sussex Survivors' Club' worked for couple and lived to tell the tale

Include US spin doctor Jason Knauf & Aussie private secretary Samantha Cohen

Some even believe they may have form of post-traumatic stress from experience

But I have personally witnessed more than one member of staff driven to tears by the treatment they were subjected to by the duke and duchess before the couple acrimoniously quit as working royals. One person sobbed down the phone to me after a particularly harrowing day. They clearly felt emotionally broken and could no longer cope with the pressure they were being subjected to. Others have indicated to me they were being asked to behave in a manner they did not feel professionally comfortable with, particularly in their dealings with the media. Several aides have also told me that Meghan in particular was very good at 'drawing' staff into her confidence, flattering them as if they were the only person in the world she could trust and asking them to help her with various duties.

and

Toxic, hostile, distrustful, poisonous: all words I have heard regularly used over the past few years to describe people's experiences working in the Sussexes' household.

and

But I have since been told that this popular aide was deeply unhappy about her experience working for the duchess and had been 'desperate' to get out as long as she could professionally put a brave face on it. Likewise a third member of staff. Mr Knauf makes clear in his email, as reported by The Times, that he was also concerned about the couple's hugely experienced deputy private secretary, Samantha Cohen. She had worked for the Queen for more than 20 years and was personally persuaded by the monarch to stay on and help the couple navigate their first few years of royal life. He indicated that she was experiencing extreme stress and said: 'I questioned if the Household policy on bullying and harassment applies to principals [the term used to refer to a member of the royal family].' One source tells me wryly, with an eye to Meghan's much-hyped championing of female empowerment: 'Note that everyone concerned was a woman.' Another adds: 'Sam always made clear that it was like working for a couple of teenagers. They were impossible and pushed her to the limit. She was miserable.'

and

The Times also makes reference to an incident during the couple's tour to Australia, New Zealand, Fiji and Tonga in 2018, which was a particularly difficult one for all concerned, Meghan included. She was, of course, pregnant at the time. The newspaper reports how Meghan cut short a visit to a market in Fiji because she was concerned about the presence of a UN organisation promoting women, with which she had worked before and made clear she no longer wished to have anything to do with. At the time officials had suggested that it was because it was humid and the crowd was oppressive in the market. I was there at the time and witnessed Meghan turn and 'hiss' at a member of her entourage, clearly incandescent with rage about something, and demand to leave. I later saw that same – female – highly distressed member of staff sitting in an official car, with tears running down her face. Our eyes met and she lowered hers, humiliation etched on her features. At the time I was unable to document anything as I couldn't conclusively link the two incidents together, despite my suspicions. I have subsequently found out from other sources that my instincts were right.

3/4/2021: Duchesses at war: Meghan ‘blamed Kate and Camilla for leaking stories about her’, claims aide amid raging royal war - as at least TEN palace staff say they will cooperate with ‘bullying’ probe

Meghan and Harry felt stories were briefed by Kate, Camilla or Charles' households, the Palace insider said

Claimed couple 'assumed men in grey suits were obsessed with destroying them' during in Kensington Palace

Revelations came after Meghan was accused of 'driving out' two PAs and shattering the confidence of another

One former aide branded Prince Harry and his wife 'outrageous bullies' in The Times earlier this week

Meghan said newspaper was 'being used by Buckingham Palace to peddle a wholly false narrative' about her

Comes ahead of Meghan and Harry's bombshell tell-all interview with Oprah Winfrey to be aired in the UK

3/4/2021: Meghan Markle’s ‘furious rows’ with aides over designer freebies: Staff warned Duchess it breached royal protocol to keep free clothes at time of bullying allegations, sources claim

Meghan Markle, 39, clashed with royal aides over freebie designer clothes

Sources revealed designer outfits were sent to Kensington Palace for Duchess

Insider said she 'had to be told it was not the done thing when you are a royal'

Duchess has been accused of 'driving out' two PAs and acting like 'a bully'

Said to shatter confidence of another member of Kensington Palace staff

Lawyers for the Sussexes have vehemently denied they have bullied or mistreated staff

3/4/2021: ‘We can FINALLY tell the truth’: Former Royal aide who claims she was ‘bullied by Meghan Markle’ welcomes Palace probe and hopes it will put pressure on her and Harry to provide evidence

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out'

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear

Buckingham Palace announced a formal probe into the allegations in statement

One alleged victim: 'We'll finally be able to tell the truth. It's not going to be easy'

3/5/2021: EXCLUSIVE: ‘What’s done is done!’ Friends of Meghan say she would never postpone tell-all Oprah interview and clam palace is using Prince Philip’s health as an ‘excuse to keep her muzzled’

Mounting pressure has been put on Meghan and Harry to push back the much-anticipated interview special out of respect for Prince Philip's health

'Even if Meghan had the choice to postpone the Oprah special she said she wouldn't,' a friend of the Sussexes tells DailyMail.com

The Duke of Edinburgh, 99, underwent heart surgery this week

According to the well-placed source, the interview 'has absolutely nothing to do with Prince Philip and that this is just an excuse by the palace to keep her muzzled'

'Meghan said now the whole world can see what she had to endure for months on end,' they added

On Wednesday Buckingham Palace announced an inquiry into Meghan's behavior after The Times reported allegations of bullying by the duchess's staff

'[Meghan] said these outrageous allegations confirm why she and Harry had to part ways and make it their mission to be a voice for the underdog,' they said

3/5/2021: CBS releases new clip from bombshell interview: Meghan claims she was stopped by Palace aides from talking to Oprah ‘personally’ when host tried to set up interview with her before her wedding and says that she’s now ‘ready to talk’

Fourth clip from Oprah interview airs on CBS This Morning ahead of premiere on US network on Sunday night

Duchess of Sussex claims royal aides blocked her from having a personal conversation with Oprah Winfrey

Meghan says she remembers chat with Oprah 'very well' and there had to be other people in the same room

She adds that it's 'really liberating to be able to have the right and the privilege' to say 'Yes, I'm ready to talk'

Two-hour interview which also features Prince Harry will have its UK premiere on ITV next Monday at 9pm

3/5/2021: Meghan Markle’s make-up artist BFF Daniel Martin shares a defiant poem claiming ‘the world cannot overcome her’ as he speaks out amid bombshell claims she bullied staff at Kensington Palace

Daniel, from New York, joined army of Meghan's pals who leapt to her defence

This week allegations were made that the Duchess of Sussex bullied former aides, 'driving out' two PAs and shattering confidence of another staff member

Daniel shared a poem by Lao Tzu, a 4th century Taoist author and thinker

He accompanied candid snap of him applying blusher to the Duchess's cheeks

3/5/2021: Meghan’s best friend from college Lindsay Roth defends her from bombshell claims she bullied staff and claims that ‘goodwill runs in her bones’

Lindsay Jill Roth, Meghan Markle's best friend from college, rushed to her defense on Thursday amid bullying claims

The producer said in an Instagram post that 'goodwill runs in her bones'

She also branded the Duchess an 'altruistic, magnanimous friend'

The pair met while they were at Northwestern University 17 years ago

Roth shared pictures from their graduation and her wedding day

Her comments came amid allegations Meghan bullied former aides, 'driving out' two PAs and shattering the confidence of another staff member

And ahead of Meghan and Harry's tell-all Oprah interview to be aired Sunday

3/11/2021: ‘Perhaps they can finally set the record state about me’: Meghan Markle’s biographer Omid Scobie quotes email he claims she sent to Kensington Palace over flower girl row with Kate - so who showed him the message?

Author of Finding Freedom claims Meghan emailed royal aide over the claims

She allegedly asked if Kensington Palace could 'finally set the record straight'

Meghan claimed this week it was Kate who made her cry in reported dress feud

3/17/2021: Givenchy Anon

Meghan made Kate cry.

Bullied Charlotte, mocked and made fun of her voice

Screamed at the staff

Slapped one of the staff who was fitting her

Meghan encouraged Ivy to pick on Charlotte, to the point where Charlotte was pulled out of the fittings and her dress was made based on Florence van Cutsem’s measurements

Flower crowns for bridesmaids was given at the last minute

9/25/2021: The Meghan Paradox: Royal author ANDREW MORTON explores how she preaches compassion, yet cast her own father into outer darkness and claims she’s the victim of uncaring Royals, yet in truth was welcomed with open arms

11/29/2021: Meghan’s lawyer denies the Duchess of Sussex ever bullied staff in bombshell BBC documentary - saying she didn’t ‘repeatedly and deliberately hurt someone’ but adds she ‘wouldn’t want to negate anyone’s personal experiences’

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out'

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear

Tonight her lawyer told BBC programme she did not carry out any bullying

But she added: 'She wouldn’t want to negate anyone’s personal experiences’

12/3/2021: Duchess of Cambridge was left in tears after confronting Meghan Markle over ‘bullying of Palace staff’ just days before the royal wedding, Camilla pal Kirstie Allsopp claims

Duchess of Cambridge was reportedly left in tears after row with Meghan Markle

The infamous argument came days before Meghan and Harry's wedding in 2018

Kirstie Allsopp has claimed the row was about claims Meghan had bullied staff

It has previously been claimed that the argument was over flower girl dresses

In her Oprah interview, Meghan had claimed that she was the one who had cried

12/10/2021: Is Meghan ‘bullying’ probe being kicked into long grass? Buckingham Palace inquiry into allegations the Duchess of Sussex bullied staff only interviews ‘a tiny handful’ of people who worked for her

Revelation prompted fears the investigation is being 'kicked into the long grass'

Palace aides announced in March that they were launching an internal inquiry

Staff were said to have been left in tears and feeling 'traumatised'

1/6/2022: Damaging bullying claims are used ‘very casually’ over allegations Meghan Markle mistreated palace staff, duchess’s lawyer tells BBC’s Amol Rajan

Meghan Markle's lawyer Jenny Afia of Schillings claims allegations of bullying are used 'very casually'

Miss Afia tells BBC that the word 'bullying' is a 'very, very damaging term... particularly for career women'

She spoke to Amol Rajan in podcast based on controversial royal documentary which aired last November

1/22/2022: Prince Andrew should be subject of bullying probe over ‘12 complaints’ made by Palace staff over ‘overbearing and verbally abusive’ behavior, according to a formal royal protection officer

Paul Page worked in the Royal Protection Command from 1998 until 2004

He has claimed he personally made three separate complaints to the Palace

Speaking to The Sunday Mirror, he said he is aware of 'at least a dozen' others

He alleged his complaints during his time working for the Palace were ignored

Mr Page has now called on the palace to launch an investigation into Andrew

6/29/2022: Meghan ‘bullying’ inquiry buried: Findings of Palace probe into claims duchess drove out two ‘traumatised’ assistants will NEVER be made public…and even those who took part ‘haven’t been told the outcome’

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service

Royal aides admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public

Those who took part in the inquiry are said to not be told what the outcome is

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward

6/30/2022: Palace aides’ refusal to publish findings of Meghan ‘bullying’ probe is an ‘olive branch’ to the Sussexes as royals face the prospect of release of Prince Harry’s memoir, say experts

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service in claims that emerged in 2021

Royal aides who gave evidence have admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward but will not publish report

6/30/2022: Buckingham Palace faces questions over Meghan ‘bullying’ probe as it ‘revises’ its HR policies in wake of inquiry but keeps its findings a SECRET…with even those who took part ‘not aware of the outcome’

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service in claims that emerged in 2021

Royal aides who gave evidence have admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward but will not publish report

6/30/2022: What do the Palace fear revealing about ‘Duchess Difficult’? Staff say they were ‘traumatised’ by Meghan’s behavior. But her defenders say she just had high standards. As a report into the episode is buried, RICHARD KAY examines the history of the saga.

9/21/2022: Ben Goldsmith claims Meghan Markle is disliked in Britain NOT because of racism but ‘because she is a manipulative bully who got found out’

Ben is a non-executive board member for the Department of Environment, Food, and Rural Affairs; brother to government minister Zac Goldsmith

9/24/2022: Palace aides take revenge on the ‘Difficult Duchess’: Insiders claim Meghan ‘moaned she wasn’t getting PAID for royal tours, agreed to Oprah interview SIX months before Megxit and reduced staff to tears with bullying and tantrums’ - in bombshell new book

Explosive extracts of Courtiers: The Hidden Power Behind the Crown by Valentine Low were published today

Meghan did not understand why she had to shake people's hands during a tour of Australia, they revealed

Sources claim Meghan bullied her staff who were 'terrified', 'broken' and 'destroyed' by her treatment of them

The book details a meeting where Meghan allegedly criticised a young female member in front of colleagues

9/24/2022: Meghan’s aides branded her a ‘narcissistic sociopath’ over her demanding behavior - and gave themselves the name ‘Sussex Survivors Club’, new book claims

New book claims that Meghan Markle's aides, the 'Sussex Survivors' Club', called her a 'narcissistic sociopath'

Courtiers: The Hidden Power Behind The Crown describes Sussexes' deteriorating relationship with staff

Book also claims that staff became convinced the Duchess wanted to show how the institution failed her

Some of Ms Markle's staff suspected that she left her Royal duties behind because she wanted to make money

10/25/2022: Meghan says ‘Duchess Difficult’ label was racist, connects it to the ‘Angry Black Woman’ archetype during a very special episode of her podcast

1/8/2023: Harry and Meghan’s 25-page rebuttal of bullying claims: Prince rails against royal staff ‘lies’ about his wife in book - and reveals couple filed hefty report ‘full of evidence’ to challenge claims

In his book Prince Harry says claims his wife Meghan Markle bullied staff are a lie

The Duke says he and Meghan produced a 25-page report to clear her name

She was accused of screaming and reducing royal household staff to tears

4/15/2024: Royal aide Samantha ‘the Panther’ Cohen confirms she was one of 10 courtiers interviewed over claims Meghan Markle ‘bullied’ Palace staff - as she reveals the late Queen ‘loved it’ when things went wrong

4/16/2024: Ex-Harry and Meghan aide Samantha ‘the Panther’ Cohen says palace staff struggled to find her successor as private secretary - and would-be replacement quit while ‘being shown the ropes’ on tour to Africa

4/24/2024: Buckingham Palace must release ruling over Meghan Markle staff bullying allegations, royal expert tells latest episode of YouTube talk show The Reaction

8/15/2024: RICHARD EDEN: The real reason Harry and Meghan have just lost their 18th staff member…according to my source

My first inkling that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex may have trouble holding onto staff came back in 2018 when I received a tip that Meghan’s personal assistant, Melissa Toubati, had quit suddenly, just six months after the American actress had married into the Royal Family. ‘It’s a real shock,’ a source told me at the time. ‘Why would she want to leave such a prestigious job so soon?’ Officials usually decline to discuss staffing matters, so it took me aback when a senior Palace source chose to pay tribute to her publicly. ‘Melissa is a hugely talented person,’ the source said. ‘She played a pivotal role in the success of the royal wedding and will be missed by everyone in the Royal Household.’ For someone to go out of their way to pay such fulsome tribute suggested Melissa’s colleagues were not happy with her departure. The fact she left so soon raised questions over the reasons for her exit.

8/26/2024 - Kensington Palace insider brutal first reaction to Meghan Markle amid bullying claims, by The Mirror.

Allegations of bullying were behind Prince William's decision to split his household from Prince Harry's in 2019, according to a royal expert. William was made aware of claims that Meghan Markle had 'bullied' palace members of staff, which both the Duchess of Sussex and her husband Prince Harry have always denied. After an unsuccessful phone call to discuss matters with his brother, William decided to 'throw Harry out', Robert Lacey revealed in his book, Battle of the Brothers. Lacey further quotes a Kensington Palace courtier as saying: "Meghan portrayed herself as the victim, but she was the bully. People felt run over by her. They thought she was a complete narcissist and sociopath — basically unhinged."

#sussexes #brf #bullying allegations #tcd #timeline

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kooksbunnnn · 2 years ago

Text

Lost cause? 2: she knows me?

Previous chapter

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook× Female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, heartbreak, INFIDELITY. Panic attacks(TRIGGER WARNING). Pregnancy (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+,

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband, that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you.

Words: 3.9k

Please read the authors note at the end of the chapter. hehe~

••••••

It was all very awkward and heart-breaking, the explanations to both your parents, seeing your parents cry in front of you, seeing his dad bow his head out of shame, his mom hugging your sobbing body with tears in her eyes, no one could change anything so nobody tried to change the decision you both took.

No divorce. That is what you both decided on the balcony that morning, but it's easier said than done. A series of drunken calls by him, panic calls by you, and crying sessions that included you both tiredly sleeping. Not forgetting the almost deadly morning sickness and cramps.

The love and need you felt for Jungkook was not going anywhere, no matter how hard you tried, becoming so frustrating that you started thinking of divorce. But the idea was immediately turned down by your therapist considering the pregnancy.

Yes, therapist. Never did you think you would visit one of these anytime soon. You lived separately, away from his physical self, but every little detail of the baby's growth was a part of his daily routine. You texted him about what the doctor told you in your appointments, and he told you to take care, and you always hung up asking him to do the same.

It was his baby, too, so you thought he should know every detail about the growth of his blood, too, not realizing how you just needed some way to check on him. You didn't want to but you couldn't help it.

It was like a routine for every 2 weeks, a call every 14 days, and a text from him 5 to 6 times in the 24 hours to check up on your health. When he received the first ultrasound, he spent the whole evening making a bunch of hard and soft copies of the picture of his baby. So small, like a bean, making his heart ache with love.

He wanted to be there. See it himself. Feel your belly. Kiss it. But he couldn't.

The agony of not seeing each other continued for three and a half months when suddenly you felt a pain in your lower abdomen, making you panic.

The therapist warned you of the consequences of the stress and the tears on the baby, the doctor did said that too but you couldn't physically control yourself from crying or giving in to the need to hear his voice whenever you cried, thinking not doing so might turn your health worse hence doing the same to the baby.

Your mom stirred in her sleep at your yelp, alarming her, immediately getting up she took a look at you, seeing the tears in your eyes she ran up to your father and told him to take you to the hospital. Your father rushed from the guestroom he had been sleeping in since your mom insisted you sleep with her.

Rushing to the hospital, your pain didn't grow but didn't stop either. When the doctor started to diagnose the reason for the pain, you only prayed that the baby was fine. Tears in your eyes, you wished the circumstances were different, with your husband holding your hand while the doctor diagnosed you.

But you were alone even with your mother standing beside you with concerned eyes.

Soon, you got to know that it was because of the sleeping posture and the ligament pain, which was basically your body making space for the baby. With the advice of sleeping in a better posture with a pillow to tuck under your leg and some prescriptions, you open the door to exit the room.

Thats when you see him.

After three and a half months which felt like years, you lost your composure, especially when he came your way sprinting with long legs, fuzzy hair, bags under his eyes, mismatched clothing, you guess he was in a rush so he must have picked a random shirt over the joggers considering he sleeps shirtless.

Also, were those different slippers?

You saw how his eyes take you in and gloss up, making your vision blurry with tears, too. The hurt and anger of him cheating was still there, but the hormones of the pregnancy were messing with your mind, and you wanted to kick yourself for being happy at seeing him.

"You okay? What did the doctor say? Is everything okay? Is she okay?"

He always wanted a girl. The she in his sentence makes your heart squeeze, and you look at your mother with a clenched jaw.

Did she call him and tell him? Or was it your dad?

Sighing guiltily and avoiding your questing glare, she replies the questions that Jungkook asked, him still looking at you with concern while your mom explained everything.

"Y/N I-"

"Please go, Jungkook. Thank you so much for coming here, but I need you to go." You say sniffing, looking away from the concerned man in front of you.

The silence between you, Jungkook, and your parents was defeaning, broken by you moving past him, wiping the tears that flowed automatically on seeing him after so long.

Happy or sad, you have no idea. Relieved to be around him? For a second, maybe. You got mad at your parents and then later found out that your father had told Jungkook about your abdominal pain, but then he said he just couldn't see you in so much agony, and he just called him without anither thought.

You never wanted to see your father cry, but he did, and you felt helpless. You made your parents helpless.

How did it all become so painful?

The next two months went terribly since you stopped contacting him, stopped replying to his texts, occasionally texting him not more than three words. The fact that you got some kind of assurity through the texts was somewhere in the back of your head, but you didn't want to admit. No matter what. You can't. Thus, your anxiety is rising.

When he reread the text, you last sent him four days ago. 'The baby is okay.' he felt his heart squeeze up, the thought of you assuming him texting for only the baby hurt him. He wanted to know about you too. He felt disgusted by the fact that he did this to you, the love of his life.

The last time you saw him made you realize that seeing him in person would not change the fact that he cheated on you, broke your heart even though you loved him, and you still love him. Fuck why do you still love him. Your heart and mind aches from all the heart break and your back aches feom lying down so much and the hormones making you mad makes you wanna punch Jungkook and then hug him, feel his warmth all around you.

The sudden urge to take a walk in the garden downstairs to clear your head washes over you. Even though the doctor told you that you're not supposed to move much. You still try to get up when-

"Ow! Fuck, fine I won't! I am much more responsible than you, little one."

You tell your baby as you feel the cramp in your back that makes your head fall back in frustration. The pain and the mood swings make you make an impulsive decision that involves you, your anger, and your phone.

Finding the name in your contacts you click on it and hear the ringer do its job but at the second ring you realize what a big fucking mistake this might turn out to be, so you immediately turn the screen on to hang up but drop the phone on the mattress in the middle of the rushed action.

"Hello?" A deep voice resounds on the mattress, making you freeze. Shit.

You get up slightly to pick up your phone while he tries to get a reply from your side. The contact image smiling at you mocks your irritated face. Making you much more infuriated.

"Y/N?" a whisper.

"Yes, it's me, Jungkook!" You speak up a bit rudely, answering his question, the other side falling silent with a hint of traffic in the background. He must be getting back from work.

"Are you oka-"

"Why? Why did you do this? I loved you. I never did anything bad, so why do I have so many heartbreaks. It hurts! My heart and my head hurt!"

Silence.

"Answer me! You have no clue how much I wanna hate you, Jungkook. You dont know how is it to have all these fucking mood swings killing me, I dont have you. I cant expect these hormones to calm themselves on their own cause you're not around me?!"

By the end of the rant, you start sobbing, your body shaking with the number of hiccups you're having. Jungkook always helped you with your moody episodes and cramps during your periods. He was always there.

You just hope you dont wake up your sleeping dad, who took his blood pressure pills. You told him to sleep, but now you dont know if he could, considering your wails. Your mom out for maternity clothes shopping since moving and working in these normal ones was a pain in the ass.

"I could be there, I wanna be there. I want you to know how much I regret my mistake just please...baby, let me in. Please." He whispers in the phone, clearly on the verge of crying.

You sniff on your side, eyes shut tightly, giving him the cue to go on.

"I would never, ever force you to t-take me back or f-feel something for me. Just let me be there when you need me. I won't talk or anything just please.."

Taking the device off speaker you furiously bring the phone to your ears. "You really think its easy, huh? Well I dont think it would be if- ah!"

You suddenly feel a tiny pulse like sensation on your tummy, and you freeze, dropping your phone. You think it's one of the pains you felt earlier, but this doesn't hurt. it's like a flutter. You gasp again as you feel it again, eyes widening with joy as you absentmindedly pick your phone up to tell your husband that your baby just kicked!

The feeling of the baby moving inside you made your heart swell double in size, and you call out his name in the device, but your smile falls, seeing that he hung up.

He must've reached home.

Home. The visual of the shared apartment makes you sigh, reality hitting hard. Oh, how you wish you could be in your house, with him, without the suffocating memories of you crying in the kitchen.

Your dad rushes in the bedroom, making you flinch as he slams the door open.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Why are you crying? Did something happen? Did Jungkook say something? Did you call? Why are you-"

"The baby kicked dad-"

You gasp as it kicked once again, and your father laughs with surprised-teary eyes along with you.

"Oh my god, I don't know what it is that makes the little one kick, but I am gonna try finding it out. Help me figure it out, dad!" You say giggling as your eyes widen with happiness as the baby kicks again, but then you realize that the kick it gives you again is at the term dad. Fuck.

Okay, the kid is genuinely testing your patience and emotional waters.

"It's dad." You hear a whisper, and your heart stops beating for a second. When you turn your head towards the door when you see Jungkook and your mom.

"It's me. She knows me. She knows who I am." He keeps whispering talking about the baby as he enters the room and slowly crouches down at the edge of your bed, staring at you, baby bump with tears in his eyes,

Hearing you sniff he looks up and sees his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, not even facing towards him during this moment and Jungkook couldnt help but grab the white duvet covering you, his hands itching to wipe your tears.

Y/N. Look at me, please."

You clench your jaw, tears slipping out of your eyes. When he whispers your name again, you shut your eyes frustrated. This is what you both wanted, right? This is what you've been trying for 1 year, right? Then why does it have to be so painful when you finally get it?

"Y/N?"

You snap your head, looking at him. Eyes glossy, face red and dark circles, a description suitable for the both of you. His face softens at your questioning stare, and he whsipers a barely audible answer,

"You didn't answer when I called your name numerous times, so I thought you were in pain. I was near Taehyung's apartment when you stopped responding, so I came here straightaway.."

"Taehyung's?" You ask.

At your question, he wipes the sweat over his upper lip, diverting his gaze towards his lap. "Yea, he found out about- what I-I did, when I went to his place, all the hyungs know." He sniffs. Maybe that's the reason why Namjoon Jin and Yoongi tried calling you at least 6 times the week after you found out. Maybe that was the reason hobi visited your workplace, thinking you would be there. Maybe that's why the soulmates sent flowers to your workplace.

You thought they just knew about your pregnancy, hence the flowers, calls, and visits.

"I've been crashing there, in his guest bedroom. I just dont want to go to our place. it's not a home without you." He whispers.

You look at him in silence, how he doesnt make eye contact, staring at his lap, as he fiddles with his fingers, you look up at your parents who have been there listening to the full interaction with worry in their eyes.

They were mad at Jungkook at first but knowing you needed him during this time the most, they couldnt tell you to seperate or move on and since he wronged you they couldn't call him over to comfort you. It was very painful and confusing for both families.

Looking at your parents, you motion with your eyes to give you a moment of privacy.

You give them a small sad smile before they turn to leave the room.

"Jungkook?"

He looks up, responding to your voice with a sniff. His nose was red, and his cheeks were all wet.

"This is getting insufferable. To be honest, I wish all this never happened, but it did. You or me, we cant change that, but the fact that I cant leave you, cant get a divorce, cant control my emotions, cant eat the pancakes you made when I crave them at 4 in the morning so much!" Your voice starts quivering due to the tears and anger inside you.

"It's killing me." You shake your head frustrated.

"Also, why can't I stop thinking about my therapist giving me hope about us? Why did it make me feel relief? Why do I want to give in?!" You look at him again, his eyes already on you.

"Why did you have to ruin everything, Jungkook? This was our dream. Our dream! I want to forget you so bad, wanna forget how you broke my heart and oh! how I wanna change the things in which they are, but I can't Jungkook! I can't! I'm stuck with you, your memories, your smell, the comfort you gave me, everything! Fuck I dont want to give in to the hope. I cant do that to myself!"

You clutch your head, and he hesitantly gets up after a moment of heavy silence, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. You look up at him, still clutching your head with one hand while the other drops in your lap, brushing slightly against your baby bump.

He takes his hand and places it on top of your resting one. He thought you would push him away, but you didn't. He looks up and removes your other hand from your head and puts it over the already interlocked hands in your lap.

You feel weird thinking how you should pull your hand back, get away from him but at this moment nothing felt better, you needed him as your comfort and he understood that.

He looks into your glassy eyes and sniffs, his nose scrunching. You now notice how chapped his lips are and how his eyes are red, a little bit of stubble on his face, piercings gone, and a dull skin tone.

Your heart beats with anxiety, wanting to give in the hope but also wanting to create boundaries for yourself at the same time. Your heart was betraying you at the moment you wanted it to be strong.

You should be strong, you owed yourself that! But why does this comfort make you want to live in it, swim in it, so that it can wash away all your problems?

"I-I will always be there, Y/N. Whatever you decide. I will leave immediately if you want a divorce, I swear I will never show you my face, ever again, if that makes you move on and forget me. But if you want, even for a second to try again? I will do anything to make things right. I won't come close. I won't touch you. I will stay somewhere else. You can be here with your mom and dad. Whatever you want, but if even for a moment, e-even as a forbidden thought, you think of trying? Please tell me?" He pleads, holding your hand, without moving his eyes from yours, as if afraid of losing the hope for the both of you.

You inhale and exhale as an exercise your first therapist told you to do when anxious. His hands feel so warm you can't help but grab it, nails digging in his skin to make yourself make a decision. His face softens at your gesture.

"Y/N I am very-"

"Wait."

You hold his hand and put it gently on your slightly 5 month swollen baby belly. He widens his eyes as after two seconds, you feel the baby kick again. This time without someone saying the word 'dad'.

After five months, your baby felt the touch of the only person you could ever dream of having a family with. Jungkook, your husband, the love of your life. When you both stare at your belly, smiling, for a moment, you let go, you stop your compulsive mind to stop thinking of the consequences. You let yourself feel his hands. The warmth. The comfort, all seeping in.

When you look up at him, you see that his eyes are wide, his chin quivering and his nose getting redder by the second, a sob leaving his mouth as you start crying too. The distance and the problems between you both getting overpowered by the feeling of fullness. The betrayal is not a part of your thoughts for the first time, only for a moment, but your mind felt happy.

The situation and the hand on your belly makes your mind feel a sad Déjà vu of the night he told you about what he did.

"She knows me. She knows her dad!" his voice gets you out of the memory you went in, and you see his face brightening up.

He sobs, and you feel your heart clench at this sight. Can things ever get better? Do you even see a future without tears along with Jungkook? Is your therapist right? Do you really think you could work this out? What if this is all due to hormones and you regret it later? But didn't the doctor and the therapist both say that you need the most loved person in your life to give you comfort and calm you down in anxious episodes? But what if he himself is the reason for the anxiety?

These emotions are fucking with your head and you need to talk to the therapist yourself. Maybe with him this time.

"Y/N?"

He pats the back of your hand with his, hesitating for a second, afraid of your reaction to him holding your hand. Seeing that you didnt flinch, he continued,

"You zoned out."

You look at him blankly, his confused expressions mirroring your emotions. You feel your throat close up at the thought of saying you wanna try. Try again. You feel like you are betraying yourself. Letting your past depressed self down, but why dont you feel your heart clogging? Why are his red yet warm, familiar eyes so comforting?

You certainly can not forget what he did. But would trying again be bad? Would it turn out to be disastrous? Do you really think that the cliché about couples therapy might be true? Can the issues between two people be solved by a stranger? Would you even be able to talk openly about your relationship?

Looking at your dazed and blurry eyes, he takes one of his hands and pets your hair, slightly stroking it, understanding that you need him right now. He caresses your hair and untangles the knots you created while clutching your head.

"I'm here. I'm always here with you. No matter what you choose, hm?"

Your mind finally focuses on what you want, and you slightly sit up, tightening your hold on his hand. He knows it's now or never. You're gonna choose, and he is gonna have to make peace with whatever your choice is. If it means never showing you his face again, he will take it. But if you choose him? Choose to give him another chance? He will do whatever it takes to make things right.

You open your mouth to close it once again, his eyes wide with hope and concern when he sees you squeezing your eyes as if to rip the bandage off.

"Should we give us another chance?" You whispered with a tight grip on his palm as if scared of letting yourself hear the words. Looking up, you ask him again,

"Could we ever be us again?" You asked in a hushed whisper with a tear falling out of your eye. He felt his heart beat faster at you, giving him another chance. This time, he will make sure you dont regret this decision. He wanted to hug you so bad, wanted to kiss your tears away, and hold you while promising the second chance would be a decision he would make you happy that you did.

Instead, respecting your boundaries, he just squeezes your hand and says with a small-teary smile.

"We would be better than before at this, Y/N. I promise."

••••••••••

Next chapter series masterlist main masterlist

Authors note: hie! I am back with another chapter, and I know it's been a long time since I updated, but I've been going through a lot of changes in my life right now and I really wanted to upload this last week, but I was busy with my internship interview preperation and assignments and exams.

Also, it's fiction, so let's just be calm because I love every BTS member, too, just like the readers of this series. Anyone who wishes to be a part of Lost Cause taglist, please message me or send me an ask! I love you all! Hehe~ plea

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lawva-girl · 6 months ago

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Historically.. We don't mix. pt. 2

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Pt. 1

Notes: Sorry i took forever, i kinda forgot i even posted this... HERES PT 2!!! let me know about any ponderances or possibly any errors... i dont have a beta reader or anything.. ALSO i could not come up with a nickname for reader..... so in the chat rooms i put "Y:" for "You". PLEASE tell me suggestions i will go back and fix it :D

WC: 2526

Back at the dorm that Law and Bepo shared, there was no chatter. Law was simply laying in bed with his laptop open to 5 tabs, one for each of the classes he was taking. He was taking all history classes this semester, since his counselor told him to. He would definitely miss the bio information but he did like history. Scrolling through each class, he breezed through all of the syllabus quizzes. Once he felt satisfied, it was onto checking his email, with one catching his attention.

“DIRE!! MAKE AN APPOINTMENT OR TEXT ME ITS EMERGENT!” The email title felt like a scam but he knew it was not, in fact it was a daily burden. The man who had sent it, his counselor and adoptive father, always communicated like this. After opening the email, he found himself irritated again, Cora had only wanted to remind him that classes start today.

“How would I not know?” Law muttered to himself. Reading through the email, then deciding he had been too neglectful of the man Law opened up their chat.

L: I know it was the first day, I got to my first two classes on time. C: Good!!! I miss you! <3 C: Any new friends?! C: Do you like your professors?? I hand picked them :D L: Hand picked? You are making me socialize on purpose. C: Not true! Nico Robin is the smartest! She already had her masters by the time most have an associates! L: The classes are fine. Bepo made a friend, her name is Perona. C: Oh! Mihawk’s kid! Good to know she’s here! Is his step-daughter here too? Maybe y/n? L: Yes. C: Oh! I heard she’s similar to you! Maybe you two can be friends or something? L: How long did you have to think to come up with this plan of yours? C: No idea what you are talking about…. L: Cora. C: … C: Anyways, have you gotten all the textbooks you need? C: I want to make sure you find them all! C: It's my job, you know. L: I still have two more classes to go to tomorrow, but i’ll be fine. L: Thanks. C: Anything for you! We should meet for lunch soon! I can make you salmon rice balls! Like when you were still a baby… remember? You loved my cooking! L: I did not. You should not be in a kitchen alone, Ill meet you on friday at 11. L: Don’t start until i'm there. Please. C: Okay !!!!! C: I'll see you then law! C: Cant wait ! C: Sleep tight <3<3<3

Law closed his laptop, relaxing his shoulders. He glanced over and Bepo was already asleep. He kicked off his blanket and got up to go to the bathroom. After he finished his business, washing his hands like any good bio major, he strolled to the microwave area. He had only wanted water but he saw the picture of him holding a letter, standing next to Cora. Staring at it, he wondered why the giant had wanted him to socialize so much. It’s not like he never sees human faces, or stays inside all day everyday. He just liked being alone when he could, no one to ask him stupid questions.

After finishing his water, Law went back to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two went through the rest of the week, meeting each other an embarrassing amount of times. Neither one had any reason to talk to the other, so they didn’t. Until Wednesday rolled around, and they were back in Nico Robin’s class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Someone has it out for me. I know it for sure” You wrote in your journal, along with the date and class name. Looking at Law, like you had these past two days, made you realize it more.

“I have pissed off whatever god actually exists and they want me to repent. There is no way that all four of my classes are naturally shared with Trafalgar.” You finish scribbling away in your journal, just in time.

“Okay, pass forward the paper I handed out to you. This was just a fun assignment to see what areas we, as a class, are most interested in.” She spoke smoothly, with an even tone. It was almost like she didn’t care, or like she had done this 20 times.

You heard some of your classmates groan and while you agreed, you thought it was inappropriate to voice that. Tapping a pen on the paper of your journal idly, you waited for more instructions. Even though your classmates weren't raised well, your father had done a fine job with you. You were nice, respectful, studious. Sure you are shy but it's not like it mattered.

Why speak to people and risk being embarrassed if they don’t want to talk to you?

“Okay, as I said before this class is based in groups and communication. Please tell one person about what you studied for this assignment.” Robin had said before sitting at her desk with a book in hand.

Suddenly everyone was talking but you and one other person.

“My assignment is on the Five years war. I chose it because of a coin flip, I found the sources in the library database.” Already you were irritated. Another interaction with the man who had no manners.

“Hello. That is how you start a conversation, who raised you? Anyways, my assignment is on the First Crusade. I chose it because it was the first war I thought of-” “Really? The first? Liar.” He interrupted you, of course a man like him would.

You squinted at him, before responding with “Not lying, I was watching a documentary on the pope a day before class, which made me think of all the holy wars. It's not polite to interrupt people.”

“Okay. I think we have discussed enough.” “Fine.” You scoffed at him mentally, before turning back to face the front of the room.

“Okay now, I want someone to tell me about their partner's work! This is worth participation, as a friendly reminder.” She smiled eerily

You did not raise your hand, in fact you looked away. If you were called on you would end up having to lie, since stupid Trafalgar didn’t tell you anything about his assignment.

“Okay, randomly generated, we will have Mr. Trafalgar, Mr. Reyes, and Ms. Churchill. In that order please.” “My partner researched the First Crusade, she told me that she learned about the context of the war. Specifically Pope Urban the second’s motivations for launching the crusade, who was mainly following the lead of the Byzantine emperor. She also learned about the cost of the war, not only economically but also what it did for the Pope’s approval rating.” Incredible. He pulled all that from his ass? Wasn’t he a double major? How long ago did he even learn that? How was he able to say it so confidently? He is actually smart?! Hold on, he could’ve seen the same documentary you did and just so happened to remember important stuff. But even then, he didn’t even hesitate, he was so confident, even with a professor like Nico Robin.

“Very good, point earned. Mr. Reyes?”

As he relaxed into his chair, you couldn’t help but stare. His hair was sticking out, a bit unruly from his beanie. It was white with weird black spots on it, maybe a statement about faux animal fur? Could he be vegetarian or something? Maybe he likes to hunt? His sideburns went right into his weird facial hair, “should be shaved” was scribbled into your journal, along with “spots?” and of course “T is smart?”. You saw his black hair under his beanie and thought of your father, who would never slouch like the man in front of you was.

“Okay good to hear. This wraps up our class for today, I’ll see you all on monday.”

You started gathering your things, excited to go back to Perona. She promised she would have your favorite food ready for you as soon as your class ended. It was a little weird, but you two always were close.

“Are you always the last to leave?” The sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts, and made you drop your pencil case. No pencils escaped but the case clunked right under whoever had just shocked you. Law, with no expression on his face, immediately thought of his giant adoptive father; who was extremely clumsy.

“No. Are you stalking me? I feel like the campus police or a trusted adult should know about this.” You looked up at him, not reaching for your case at all.

“I’m not, somehow, we have the exact same class schedule. With the exception of my online class.” “That's crazy buddy… Will you grab my case?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He scoffed and folded his arms.

“I think the reason why I dropped it should be the one to get it for me, no?” You thought he looked childish, folding his arms like he just got told to go to his room.

“Fine.” He reached down, grabbing the case and placing it on your desk, “even though you were closer to the floor… I'm sorry.” He looked away as he said it. Once again you thought he was childish.

You found yourself staring again. This time you noticed his hands, the word ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers, and the heart on the back of his hand. Shocked to say the least.

“Holy shit.” Huh? You said that outloud? Maybe you weren’t nice.

You looked up to see Law’s face, somewhere between shock and disgust.

“Oh uh.. I meant, holy shit your tattoos are cool. They look like they hurt.” Maybe you saved it, you really did mean it in admiration.

“It was painful, but worth it. Bearable at times.” He looked at his hand and held it up between the two of you. Shocked that he held it up for display, you raised your eyebrows. Staring at the tattoo, you were about to reach out and hold his hand closer so you could get a better look at the line work. Then your thoughts were interrupted.

“I know we aren’t on the best terms, but you heard the professor. I think it would be a good idea to bite the bullet and partner up.” He said it so matter-of-factly you almost agreed without realizing you were lost.

“Huh? Partner?” you blinked up at him. “Of course you weren’t paying attention. The collaborative presentation that you and another student must present on the 18th?” He sounded annoyed, but his face wasn’t telling.

“Yes! Sorry I got lost in my thoughts, we might as well partner up. I don’t have anyone else in mind, so I can stick with you.” You finished packing, finally, and stood up. Swinging your bag onto your back, you held out your hand towards him.

“Okay… What is that for?” He nodded down to your hand.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my email in. We can make a google slide and share it that way.”

He paused, with a semi frown on his face then gave up. He put his phone in your hand, and watched intently as you typed in something. Then you returned his phone, much to his delight.

“Bye then. Just do 5 slides on the First Crusade or whatever other war the pope has started.” He put both of his hands in his pocket as he casually strolled out, leaving you to the room.

“Hey! We should at least pretend you won't be a dick this whole time! Don’t boss me around!” You realized that you had said that just a bit too loud for the circumstances. Maybe you weren’t nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y: Okay! I just left class, do you have my salmon nigiri? Y: You won't believe how good I was today. P: WHST P: who are you? P: The y/n i know would never ever say that. P: Yes i do have it ready :) Y: I had to partner up with Him :/ Y: The strength Y: Also he has finger tattoos? Y: What the fuck. P: You didn’t see them before? Y: Sir traffy has been through it P: I wonder if hes like some ex-gang member? P: That is such a gang member thing to get tattooed P: Why aren’t you responding? P: Helllllooooooo P: y/n P: y/n P: ….

“Rona! You are literally crazy. I was walking over here, that's why I wasn’t responding.” You closed the door behind you, making sure to lock it.

“Anyways! I’ve never seen you have such a strong reaction! To a guy no less, did he like to recite everything in the declaration of independence?” Perona called out to you while you entered and took off your shoes.

You walked over to the kitchen, where she wasdoing some dishes. Tossing your bag on the couch, then taking a seat at the bar that was connected to the kitchen. “If he did that I would’ve proposed on the spot… He just is kinda smart? It’s freaky! One second he’s brushing me off and not wanting to talk to me at all, the next he's explaining the cause of the First Crusade? Well… Kinda.” Perona turned with two plates in hand, and took a seat next to you. She placed the plate of sushi in front of you, “Well honestly i'm not surprised… Bepo says he is always studying.”

“You talk about him with Bepo? Perona…” you made a disappointed face at her as you pulled your plate closer to you. “Noooo it’s all kosher! Bepo just offers up info about everyone he knows. I think he just doesn’t have a filter or whatever.”

“Yeah…” you took a piece of nigiri and dipped it, then ate it. As you chewed and swallowed you thought of your dad, “Do you think your dad would come visit us here?”

“Hmmm only if your dad forced him to. I can picture it now ‘don’t you miss our girls?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then lets go! You pay and ill bring the beer!’ ‘beer isn’t allowed on a plane shanks’ or something like that…” Perona tried her best but didn’t really get the overall attitude of your dads. You decided not to comment and just take another bite.

“Do I get to know why you asked?” Perona said, food in her mouth.

“Traffy, as you call him, has hair as dark as Mihawk’s. It made me think of him today…”

“Sigmund Frued would have a lot to say to you right now.” “No he wouldn't, he’s dead.”

“Not for long…” “What the fuck?” You both burst out in laughter at the same time, something you had only ever done with your sister.

After dinner it was off to bed, except you weren’t actually sleeping. Your laptop was open on your lap, on the google slides page. The document was created, named, and shared to Traffy. It wasn’t the most well-mannered thing, but you decided that nicknames meant you’re friends. Your sister desperately wanted you to have friends, and this would make her think you had them. You didn’t like the deception, if you could call it that, but it's not like you were gonna go out and get real friends.

You started typing away, filling out 3 slides with information and pictures before deciding to get actual sleep.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #law x y/n #reader insert #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece #law #college AU

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blossomwritesthings · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: masterbation. sexual fantasies. kinda perv behavior but not really??

word count: 3.0k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: i seriously contemplated on whether or not I should post this chapter, after all of the events of this week. I want to make sure that I am cautious and sensitive to everyone during such a painful time. but in the end, I decided to post this since perhaps, it might help a few of you out there who are dealing with so many emotions right now. I cried while I was writing this last week because it brought up so many feelings that I felt when I had to put down my dog almost 2 years ago. so if this chapter make you sad, please don't feel bad about that or think that you're alone, because I swear that you're not. next week's chapter will be a little bit on the lighter side of things (but just barely). take care of yourselves, okay?? take everything one day at a time. allow yourself to feel a plethora of things, or nothing at all. everyone is different and processes things at a variety of paces. this isn't a race, this is life. and as always, my asks/dms are always open if you just need to vent to a listening ear. I love you guys, and... stay strong, yeah?? ❤️

🐈‍⬛ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

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You decided to schedule the appointment on a Sunday afternoon, that way you’d be off of work. Since the night you had spent with Dr. Lee in the waiting room after hours three weeks before, he had continually checked up on you throughout the weeks by way of numerous phone calls. And it felt like, with each one that passed, they seemed to grow longer, as the two of you talked about everything and nothing - all in hopes of trying to get your mind off of the imminent date.

From your daily phone calls, you had gleaned some valuable information from Dr. Lee - like the fact that he had been single since he opened up the clinic three years prior since it was pretty hard to keep up a long-term relationship when he was so busy with clients and managing a successful business.

You didn’t even know how the topic of romantic adventures came up in your daily wellness calls, but all at once, you were confiding in Dr. Lee about your most recent boyfriend which had broken up with back in university. But you didn’t go into too much detail about the relationship, and you skimmed over the… bad parts of it all.

You alluded to your horrible breakup with your ex during the conversation, and you briefly mentioned your ex’s awful treatment of you at the very end of the relationship - but you never crossed the line of professionalism and confessed to all the bitterness you still held for your ex. No, you didn’t think Dr. Lee needed to know such intimate details about your life. But also, he probably wouldn’t care. After all, the phone calls were only a means to an end…

And besides, no one else in the entire world knew the extent of your old relationship, so you didn’t see any point in telling a random veterinarian about such a dark part of your past.

The calls seemed to help somewhat - if only to take your mind off of the looming date. But then, as soon as Dr. Lee hung up, your thoughts were clouded with the pain of losing Nyx all over again.

Slowly, you were watching her deteriorate. Dr. Lee warned you that things would go downhill quite fast, and fast they did - since Nyx hardly wanted to eat her meals anymore, even when you’d try to coax her with her favorite treat of a fresh sardine. She was incredibly lethargic and because of the weight loss that she experienced from the lack of an appetite, her thinness only caused more pressure to be put on her legs, which was where the cancer was located.

Throughout it all, Dr. Lee did a tremendous job of preparing you for the day - the day that you were expecting to take the place in your mind as the worst moment in your entire life. The two of you planned it so that his schedule was completely free for the procedure. Originally, he told you that he usually doesn't accompany his clients into the euthanization room, and instead leaves it up to the vet techs to take care of the protocol. But without you even having to ask him, he assured you that he’d be with you the entire time - that he’d be the administer of the drug. Because he already knew, that having anyone else there with you wouldn’t help, not in the least bit. Sure, Yongbok and Hyunjin and Seungmin were good techs, but nothing could compare to the utterly calming presence that Dr. Lee alluded… with his soft, brown eyes and his slight smile and-

You were thinking about him again- damn it.

Because besides being cluttered with the pain of losing Nyx, your mind was also full of so many thoughts about… him.

And how, ever since that night in the clinic, he had continued to call you by your first name. No honorifics, no pretense. And even though he felt familiar and warm to you, you still felt somewhat uncomfortable to drop the doctor title. You wondered if he thought it was odd, how he was addressing you informally, and yet you were still doing the ‘keep it professional’ bit.

When you were busy working at your desk throughout the day, you found your eyes constantly moving over to the side to check your phone. To see if he had called you.

While you were eating your packed lunch by yourself in your office’s break room, your mind kept replaying the way that it had felt, when he had touched you that night - with those slender fingers and warm palms of his.

When you were lounging on your apartment’s small sofa, watching tv before you went to bed, your thoughts drifted off to the sound of his voice, and the way that he always said your name so delicately.

But perhaps worse of them all, is what you would do late at night, when you lay wide awake wrapped up in your duvet covers in bed. Because instead of thinking about Nyx, your musings drifted off to him, yet again.

And perhaps it had something to do with your exhaustion from the end of the day,

Or the fact that it was so very dark in your bedroom,

But more often than not, your imagination would get the best of you, and all at once, things were turning deeper, dimmer…

Flashes of him, and that smile that he always gave you when he first saw you during a visit, danced across your vision,

As you imagined what he’d look like, staring you down, bright eyes glued to your exposed self.

You dreamed about that pretty, red mouth of his, lips turning kiss-swollen and sticky from your very essence.

You wondered how it’d feel, to have him towering over you, whispering sinful words into your ear with that sly tongue of his, as he pressed you further down into the bedsheets.

And when those thoughts came upon you, you just… couldn’t help yourself.

Hand playing with yourself-

Grazing over pert buds,

Tickling a sensitive waist,

Spreading swollen lips,

Brushing against a throbbing knot,

Pushing past folds and curving inward.

And every time, the only thing that crossed your mind, was him.

Him - and his smell and his voice and his built frame.

In those heated moments of twilight, you only ever made one single sound as you thrashed about between your thick duvet covers…

“Minho.”

The name fell from your bitten-raw lips in whispers, cries, and pleas.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t been with a man in so long,

Or maybe it was because you were a grown woman and so naturally, you were extremely horny most of the time.

But all at once, as you delved into such fantasies late at night, you realized that the attraction to him had always been there.

You had just tried to mask it with honorifics and professionalism since you didn’t want to cross any lines. Since you figured that a man of his stature - of wealth and success - would never stoop so low to date a woman like yourself.

Even still, none of that stopped you.

Stopped your midnight explorations or the way that he seemed to inherently infect your very being with every breath that you took throughout the day.

But eventually, the crest of sadness took over everything again, as the day finally came to a head. To your relief, the weather outside on that Sunday afternoon was bright and sunny. You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if it had been grey and drizzling.

You stopped just outside of the clinic’s doors, forcing yourself to take a good look at it all, as you held Nyx in her carrier at your side. It’d be the last time that you stepped through these doors with her in hand.

And that’s when the tears started. They silently traced down your cheeks, even as you shuffled through the clinic’s front doors slowly. The bell above your head signaled your arrival, and as if on cue, Jisung and Chan’s heads turned in unison from their computers at the front desk to where you stood at the entrance of the clinic.

In an instant, Jisung was getting out of his chair and flitting over to you. “Hi, Y/N,” he said in a soft voice, offering you a gentle smile. “Hi, Nyx.” He bent down in front of you, peering into the black carrier and cooing at your cat.

“How long is the wait time?” You asked, voice shaky as you clutched a little harder on the handle of the carrier.

Jisung peered up at you then, his big, doe-like brown eyes shining with compassion. “About ten minutes.”

You nodded without saying another word, as you began to make your way over to the front desk to check in for your appointment. The entire time you spoke with Jisung, Chan had been watching the two of you in silence, assessing the atmosphere and displaying a compassionate face.

“Ji said it’s gonna be ten minutes.” Is all you said, as you stood in front of the wooden front desk. You couldn’t meet their eyes anymore, your vision too blurry with tears. And frankly, their pity just made you feel even worse just then.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Chan began, typing away at his computer. Then he slid over a clipboard and had you sign your name at the end of the document. Signing away on the procedure. Signing away on Nyx’s life. “And… I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Me too.” You whispered before you were pulling away from them and taking a seat near the doors to the back of the clinic. Usually, while you waited for your appointment, you’d scroll through social media on your phone or pick up a nearby magazine and peruse the articles.

This time, you just sat there. You sat there in utter despair and silence, before deciding to pull out Nyx from her carrier. She was a little less warm than she had always been, and the thinnest you had ever seen her. Even still, she looked beautiful to you. You pressed your face into her midnight-black fur, taking in the sweet smell of her and nuzzling into her pliable skin.

“I love you so much, girl,” you muttered into her coat, before giving her a few kisses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you…”

The minutes ticked by slowly after that, as you clutched on protectively to Nyx. As you kissed your childhood best friend. As you fought for the last seconds spent with the single most stable thing in your entire life.

And then, you heard the fateful call of your name ring out across the waiting room. You stood from your chair, muscles moving like they were trapped in a vat of sticky molasses. Your gaze was fixated on the ground at your feet, so you didn’t see who had called your name.

“Right this way,” it was Hyunjin’s angelic-like voice that graced your ears, as you walked through the threshold and into the back hallway of the clinic. You felt his hand land atop your shoulder, his slender fingers gently squeezing there in a soothing gesture.

Then he was leading you through the back hallways, past the examination rooms that you had sat in with Nyx countless times. Finally, he stopped just in front of a door that was painted in a baby-blue color.

“The doctor will be right with you,” Hyunjin began, his tone ghostly-faint and fading away behind you as your eyes locked with the room you were about to be left alone in. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

You didn’t even register the door being shut closed behind you, too focused on the decorations that were placed throughout the room. The walls were painted a sky-blue, with a beautiful stain-glass window in the center of the room. The scene depicted a magnificent sunset, bursting with colors that were burnt cayennes and violets. The room was quite small, but the bright, real flowers placed throughout the area helped to add life to the otherwise depressing atmosphere - with their brilliant yellows and reds. Just underneath the stained glass window was a small pedestal that was covered in a thick duvet and plastic rap, and off in the corner of the room was a sliding glass window with a curtain shielding the other side of the glass.

You sat down on the nearby bench, looking at everything around you. Looking at the pedestal that was before you - where Nyx would be laid to rest. And it felt like your heart was bleeding irrevocably inside of your chest, straining and pumping at the same time as you tried to come to terms with the situation at hand.

At least she was going to join the afterlife in a safe space - at least it was beautiful looking and-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the shutting of the door that you had originally walked through. Lifting your head from Nyx who was peacefully dozing in your arms, you came face-to-face with Dr. Lee. He was dressed in his usual garb of black slacks and a white doctor's coat.

“How are you doing, Y/N?” Was the first thing he asked, as he shut the door behind him and neared you. He knelt in front of your knees, taking both of your hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze.

That’s when you managed to find the courage to look up into his eyes finally, and the heartache and pain that you found there just made it hurt a little bit more. You felt your bottom lip quake, as the sobs freely flowed from you. You didn’t even have to reply since he already knew how difficult this was for you. So he kept quiet, not moving from his position in front of you and holding onto you as you cried yourself to exhaustion.

“I-I’m ready,” you finally said, roughly scrubbing at your eyes with the palm of one of your hands to try and knock some sense into yourself.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, the concern dripping in his voice from the way that it deepened somewhat.

You nodded furiously, heart hurting so much that it felt like you were going to drop dead from a heart attack any minute. “Y-Yeah.”

Then his hands were slipping away from yours, leaving a fierce shiver to course down the length of your spine at the absence of his touch. He stood close to the curtained window and tapped on the glass once, and you turned your head to the side just in time to glimpse Yongbok pushing the glass aside before he handed over a metal dish that had a small syringe placed in it.

You swallowed around the huge lump that was forming in your dry throat. And when Yongbok offered you a sincere, comforting smile, all you could do was nod once before he was shutting the glass door again, pulling the curtain closed to give you and Dr. Lee some privacy.

Then it was all happening at once - too quickly for you to even grasp - as Dr. Lee was gently taking Nyx from your grasp and laying her down on the cushioned pedestal. She put up no resistance and nudged her little black nose into the palm of his hands, purring in satisfaction. She had always had a soft spot for the doctor.

You stumbled over to her, grabbing hold of one of her paws and squeezing it delicately. You peered up at Dr. Lee through hazy eyes, his face a blotch of color shining through your tear-stained vision. “P-Promise me it’ll be painless, doctor. You- you have to promise me…” Your voice broke off at the end of your words, as you leaned down into Nyx and pressed kiss after kiss into her silky fur.

“She won’t feel a thing, Y/N. I promise.” You heard Dr. Lee say before he was moving again, picking up one of her paws in bated silence. You felt his eyes on you, as you cried into Nyx’s warm skin for the last time.

“I love you so much, girl…” You whispered, voice barely audible to your ears. Cracking irrevocably. “I’ll see you again someday- so... just wait for me there, yeah?”

Then, almost like she could understand your words, Nyx moved her head over to your neck and nuzzled into you, purring lowly. The sobs wracked through your body, as you felt Dr. Lee leaning into her at the same time as you held her close.

You squeezed your eyes shut, like if you closed them long enough, everything would disappear.

The pain,

The loss,

The fear.

And then just like that, Dr. Lee was sighing heavily, a metric ton of agonizing weight in just his breathing alone. “It’s done.”

In the blink of an eye, it was all over.

You clutched onto Nyx’s languid body, holding onto her for dear life. Perhaps, if you held her long enough, she’d come back.

But nothing happened.

There was no more purring,

Or meowing,

Or scratching.

Just…

Utterly nothing.

Silence.

And that was the worst part about it all.

“It hurts,” you began, voice not even sounding like your own from all of the dryness and the crying, “it hurts so fucking much.”

You were shaking your head then, still clutching at one of Nyx’s little pink paws. Then you felt arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. Hands clutched at your sides, and you all but turned around to bury your face into the warmth of Dr. Lee.

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his deep, melodic voice so close to your ear that it sent a ripple of shivers across your skin. “I know it hurts, Y/N, but I’m here…”

And then you could do nothing more,

As a new wave of grief washed over you,

Suffocating the very air right out of your lungs,

Drying out your entire being,

Causing the dull pain of a bad headache to bloom across either of your temples.

All you could do at that point was cry and cry and cry, your entire body violently shaking as you held onto Dr. Lee for dear life. And he made no point of pulling away from you. Almost like, he had planned to be there all along.

To be continued...

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the-wip-project · 1 year ago

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SloMo WriNo: Finding the Perfect Time to Write

Imagine your perfect writing setting. It’s peaceful and perfect, and the words flow easily.

But reality intrudes. Those perfect moments are hard to find, and, when you find them it can be too much pressure, so the words won’t come. Other times, when the inspiration is strong, and words are ready to pour out of you, you have no time or space to write.

It seems impossible to find both the time and inspiration to write at the same time!

That’s because it is.

To have a consistent long term writing practice, you cannot rely on perfect moments or bursts of inspiration.

I’m going to discuss inspiration in a later post, for now let’s focus on finding the time to write, in less than perfect times and places.

For me, I used to write whenever I could, just squeezing writing time whenever. And I was pretty inconsistent in how much I wrote, and didn’t get much finished.

When I decided I wanted to write a novel I knew I needed to get more organized.

I happen to be something of a morning person, and wake up about half an hour before I actually need to get up. I was in the habit of using that time to lie in bed reading, checking messages, scrolling socials etc. It seemed like a no-brainer to optimize that morning time to write.

However, when I tried, I found that I couldn’t stick with it for more than a couple of days at a time. I was frequently breaking my concentration, and easily distracted. And it felt like a grind. Eventually I realized that I simply did not want to write immediately after waking up. (and my ADHD brain will sabotage any attempt to force myself.) See, even though I’m a morning person, it doesn’t mean that I’m ready to do heavy mental lifting when I first awake. Time for quiet, more passive activities are an important part of me transitioning from sleep to full wakefulness.

But wait! Here I am at 6:30 am writing this! Happily! On a Sunday no less! Because I figured out a work around. Another look at my schedule showed me that I had another block of seemingly unused time. The later evenings after my kids are in bed. I’d dismissed that time period because I’m generally too brain tired to do anything productive. The solution was to use that time for sleeping (boring I know) enabling me to wake earlier, keep my gradual wake up routine, and still have time to write.

Strangely enough, knowing that I’m going to write in the morning is incentivising for me, and I find that I simply don’t want to stay up as late anymore. Because I have a fun reason (yes, writing is fun!) to go to sleep.

Now this little story might be helpful for you if you’d like to write first thing in the morning. If the idea feels like torture, then perhaps not.

But the idea is, assess your daily time, and cut something that isn’t refreshing or valuable. And possibly jiggle your schedule around so that you can open up a block of writing time at a time that is good for you.

For me that was the mindless doom scrolling or binge watching that I tend to indulge in after 10pm.

Some times that might work for you (besides the obvious first thing in the morning or last thing before bed): Commute time, Arriving at work or school or other daily appointments early, lunch or other break times in your day, time while you’re waiting. Remember, you’re not looking for massive blocks of time. Fifteen minutes will do. Thirty minutes would be amazing.

So examine your schedule and see where you can block out a regular time to write.

Once you’ve found a few options, try them out. Do you feel good, or harried? Tired or refreshed? If it doesn’t feel right, is there another task you can swap into the time slot to open up a different spot in your schedule?

Which leads us to the question: does this mean I need to write every single day?

Absolutely not. Take rest days when you need them. Either a scheduled day or two each week, or just a floating flex day taken when needed.

Focus on establishing a habit of writing for at least fifteen minutes 5-6 days a week. (And don’t worry about word counts too much while you’re figuring this out.)

Once you create a habit, the words will come!

— Maree

SloMo Wrino Introduction

Setting Word Count Goals

the WIP Project discord

#slomowrino #finding time to write #writing advice

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g0atmama · 3 months ago

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Vent? Rant? Idk. It's long.

Moving and having to set your own goddamn house like you don't live there is a bitch if I could afford it I'd just get a damn hotel until the move. Bullshit that hotels cost two weeks of my pay. I'm not gonna be doing mad king this year I guess. Guess I'll only log on for the special rp event I'm doing over there. God damn. Here I'm just trying to relax after working overnight and they hit me with this.

When I'm already out of antidepressants.

Like I've been out for. Six months? I don't know. Long time. I'm supposed to take them daily but I had three months worth and I started forgetting so they lasted six. And now I have maybe a week?

But I thought we'd be moving next week. So I was trying to just wait until the move to get a prescription up there. But I guess not. So I need to schedule a doctor's appointment for... checks notes. Uh who the hell knows because I'm working every day they're open for the next two weeks.

I'm just tired. I'm tired of my life. I'm tired of being yelled at when I express any sort of emotion. Maybe I should just take the Buspar that shuts down my emotions. Maybe it's better if I don't feel anything at all.

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no1frogfan · 2 years ago

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Endings and beginnings, part 2

Tsukishima Kei x gn reader

Series synopsis: By all accounts, you’re happy. Five years out of college, your freelance art career is finally picking up and you’re able live comfortably between projects by bartending on the weekends. You’re surrounded by long-time friends and things are starting to get serious with your boyfriend. The cracks begin to form in the life you’re building when you hear from a mutual friend that Tsukishima is getting divorced. Tsukishima Kei, a person you used to consider one of your best friends, but whom you’ve spoken to only a handful of times since high school. You reach out to him for the first time in almost a decade, offering support to a friend you were once close to. As you gradually help him heal from his marriage, your old crush on him begins to resurface.

Chapter word count: ~2.2k

Chapter tags & warnings: alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Tsukishima has a lot of negativity, discussion of divorce and emotionally abusive relationship

Note: The dialogue and organization for this chapter were so challenging to figure out. Hope it reads ok

Series masterlist < part 1 | part 3 >

2. March

Your attention is drawn to him the second you walk through the doors. He has the same standoffish demeanor that you remember from high school, the lightly furrowed brow, a frown perpetually tugging at his lips. Backlit by the lights behind the bar, Tsukishima’s hair could almost be mistaken for a messy halo.

“You ok?” Makoto looks at you with concern.

“Hmm?” You whip around to face him. “Oh, I’m fine babe. They’ve just really turned up the heat in here.”

“Yea, it’s practically a sauna. Why don’t I take your coat for you?”

You shimmy your jacket off and hand it over, thanking your boyfriend as he heads to the coat check.

The room feels both cozy and spacious, with a low ceiling and a large, open layout. The bar top curves all the way around the back of the room, and elegant, origami-inspired chandeliers hang low, giving off a dim and inviting glow.

Many friendly faces are engrossed in conversation around you, seated in small groups on plush, velvet couches or perched on padded bar stools. It’s been months since you’ve seen some of them. It’s understandable on their part, considering they have busy careers or are professional athletes. As for you, your schedule isn’t necessarily packed on a daily basis, but between juggling your projects on weekdays and bartending on weekends, it still feels like you haven’t been able to catch a breath.

You find the man of the evening, Kiyoomi, whose lovely wife organized this whole celebration - buying out the venue for the night and inviting all his friends. Despite his famously reserved personality, the soft smile on his face seems to indicate he’s having a good time tonight.

“Happy birthday Sakusa-kun!” You greet him as you and Makoto join the circle of well-wishers around them.

After thanking you, Kiyoomi continues recounting his recent trip to Paris with the rest of the Olympic team for 2 weeks of special training. Unfortunately, his wife had to stay in Tokyo to manage the new publicity campaign the Jackals are preparing to launch. When more people approach to greet Kiyoomi, you and Makoto take the opportunity to slip away and join another group of friends, chatting, joking, reminiscing, catching up. You both congratulate Daichi, who was promoted to fire lieutenant, and Shoyo, who just celebrated half a year with Asas Sao Paulo. You also toast to the Tanakas who are expecting another child in a few months. Kiyoko seems fairly relaxed about this pregnancy (their third!), but Ryuu is as nervous as a first-time father. Makoto sets about distracting Ryuu from his new baby anxieties, asking about the nitty-gritty of their preparations, about baby clothes, and doctor’s appointments, and juggling everything around two active toddlers.

You start to tune out the baby talk as you scan the room. You find him sitting in the same spot. Yamaguchi seems intent on keeping him occupied, mouth moving a mile a minute as Tsukishima perches at the bar facing slightly away from his best friend. Excusing yourself from Makoto and the Tanakas, you head over.

“Hey you two.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flit to you. He nods briefly in greeting before turning away again.

Yamaguchi, meanwhile, breaks out in a huge smile and pulls you in for a hug. “Hey! Good to see you, it’s been months!”

“Yea, it’s been ages!”

You’re all silent for a moment until you test the waters with a hesitant, “Sooo…how are you guys doing?”

Yamaguchi looks expectantly at Tsukishima. You do too, examining him closely for the first time in…3? 4? years. He’s still unmistakably him. Still gangly, impossibly long legs splayed out beneath him and lanky arms draped over the bar top. He’s grown into his body. His chest and shoulders fill out his button-down nicely, the sleeves tightening around his biceps every time he brings his glass to his lips. He’s slouching at the moment, which you don’t remember him doing much of in high school, but you’re sure he would strike an imposing figure if he pulled himself up to his full height.

When the blond doesn’t make a move to answer, Yamaguchi jumps in. “I’ve been good! Yachi too. I think I told you that we moved to the new apartment right?” You nod. “It’s amazing! The location is perfect and there’s so much natural light. We just got a cat too!”

“Wow! It sounds like you two are really getting settled in!” You try to draw Tsukishima into the conversation. “What about you Tsukishima? Have you started at the National Museum yet?”

“Yea, last month.” He gazes around the room aimlessly.

“Oh! Does that mean you’ve already moved down from Sendai?”

“Yup.”

“Some of the Karasuno guys and I helped drive his stuff down and get it all set up,” Yamaguchi chimes in.

“That’s nice of you Tadashi! And how’s the museum so far?”

The smile on your face falters as Tsukishima finally fixes you in his sights. He crosses his arms before snidely responding, “Shall we stop avoiding the elephant in the room?”

You look away, trying to hide from his piercing stare. Next to you, Yamaguchi fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt. Should you pretend not to know about his separation from Natsumi? A quick glance at him pushes that thought out of your head. No, he wants the truth. “I heard,” you sigh, unsure of what else to say.

The three of you freeze in that awkward moment for what feels like an eternity. You almost swear there’s a perverse pleasure on Tsukishima’s face as you and Tadashi steal uneasy looks at each other. He takes a languid gulp of red wine, grimacing as he swallows, letting the discomfort build and build before finally revealing, “The divorce was finalized last month.”

“O- OH.” Yamaguchi looks as surprised as you. “And, uh…how are you feeling Tsukki?”

“Happy? Sad? Angry? Who the fuck knows,” Tsukishima sneers.

“Why not all of them?” Yamaguchi jokes weakly.

Tsukishima lets out a scoff.

“Well, I for one am glad you’re in Tokyo now.” You reply cheerfully. “The three of us can have movie nights and pig out on cake together again.”

The muscles tense in Tsukishima’s neck. “Drop the charade, ok?”

“Sorry, what?”

“This. Whatever this is. Just. Stop.” His fists are clenched now, his tone venomous. “I appreciate you putting me in touch with your friend and all. Really. But you people don’t have to keep doing this whole fake thing where you act like you want to hang out or get coffee or catch up” - each phrase is punctuated by aggressive air quotes - “when we all know you’re just saying it to be polite. I know you can’t actually want to spend time with me because you barely know me anymore.”

You must look dumbfounded because Tsukishima’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t move to take back what he said.

“Tsukki-”

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” He flings every word like a dagger. “What’s the point in pretending? It’s not like you’re fooling me. I know I’m hard to get along with, ok? I’ve always been hard to get along with. I’m selfish, I’m mean, I have a shitty personality, and guess what? It’s even shittier now. I know I’m pathetic. I know I’m especially fucking miserable to be around right now. I know, ok? I KNOW.”

The air feels thick. Yamaguchi sits frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyes flickering between you. Tsukishima’s eyes sear into you. He downs the last of his wine, his knuckles white from gripping the stem of his wine glass so tightly, you’re sure it’ll snap in half any second.

He’s right, kind of. He’s changed a lot in the past 10 years, and your relationship has changed too. You can’t just pick up where you left off. The trust is gone and it doesn’t do either of you any good to pretend otherwise.

You take a step back and hold your hands up, palms facing him. “Tsukishima, I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch much since we graduated, but I promise I do actually want to hang out again. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m not pretending, and I’m sure Yamaguchi isn’t either.” Yamaguchi nods vigorously at that. You continue. “I’m genuinely happy for us to have the chance to rebuild our friendship.” You reach out to squeeze his arm softly before dropping your hands back down at your sides.

Tsukishima scrutinizes you before eventually lowering his eyes to the empty wine glass in his hand.

“Me too, Tsukki. Let’s toast to rebuilding,” Yamaguchi suggests, flagging down the bartender.

The three of you clink glasses. Tsukishima unclenches his jaw, though he still appears guarded.

Yamaguchi clears his throat. “Did I mention I got a promotion?”

“Oh wow, congrats!”

Yamaguchi turns to you. “What about you? Any news?”

“Not really, just been busy lately. I started at a new bar and business there is pretty good. I’ve been trying to wrap up a bunch of small projects right now too - got a big one coming up soon and it sounds like the timeline for it will be pretty tight.” You start to tell them about your upcoming postcard project and the atmosphere begins to relax.

Tsukishima goes back to people watching as you and Yamaguchi chatter on either side of him. Slowly, he begins interjecting snarky comments while you two carry on about nothing of importance. It’s surprising how quickly the three of you can nestle back into this familiar dynamic.

“I missed this. The three of us.” Tsukishima jolts you out of your nostalgia. He sounds wistful as he stares at the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. “I wanted to keep in touch more too, you know. It’s just…Natsumi… she always felt left out when it was the three of us, so I didn’t reach out as much as I wanted to. I’m sorry. And-”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to apologize.”

“-I didn’t want to be a burden either. I realized I needed to learn how to be independent and solve my own problems instead of running to you two for help all the time.”

Emika’s words come back to you. “Did…Natsumi say that?”

Tsukishima looks at you blankly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship? Work things out with each other?”

“Yes and no… It’s always good to talk to your partner about your feelings and concerns about your relationship, but it’s also important to have other people to talk things out with too. Sometimes it’s just nice to have a place to vent about dumb things, but sometimes you really need an outside opinion, you know?” You prod a little. “I mean…didn’t she talk to her friends about your relationship?”

“Yea, but that’s different.”

You think you can read between the lines. “How is it different?”

“Well, you know what I’m like.” He shifts in his seat. “When we fought, she’d call them to talk and they’d support her, give her advice, help cheer her up… It helped her a lot I think…” Tsukishima trails off.

You see the gears turning in his head and decide not to push any further. “Well, I know we haven’t talked in ages, but I still consider you a friend.” You gesture around the bar. “You’ve got lots of friends here, actually. They were happy to help with the move and I’m sure we’re all happy to support you in other ways too.”

“Even Kageyama,” Yamaguchi laughs. That at least earns an eye roll from Tsukishima.

You open your mouth to hammer home the point, but Makoto walks up at that moment. He waves hello to Yamaguchi and you introduce him to Tsukishima.

“Babe, it’s time to go.”

You bite back a groan. Why did you agree to meet up with his parents tomorrow morning again? You buy yourself a minute by asking Makoto to grab your coat. As he heads off, you state firmly, “It was really good to see you both. Let’s go out soon, just the three of us, ok?” You give them each a small hug and head off after your boyfriend.

As you walk into your apartment, the exhaustion of the evening finally hits you. You sluggishly go through the motions, hanging your jackets up at the door, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into pajamas before climbing into bed together.

Makoto’s arms are warm and comforting as he pulls you back against his chest. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yea,” you yawn. “I’m really happy I got to see everyone. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, I’m glad I got to see everyone too. My parents said they’re looking forward to catching up with us tomorrow.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of them.”

Makoto runs his fingers across your stomach and sighs. “The Tanakas seem really excited about their new baby.”

“Yea, I can’t believe they’re having a third. They make good parents,” you mumble, quickly drifting off.

He hesitates. “I think we’d make good parents too.”

Beside him, you’ve already fallen asleep.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima angst #froggy scribbles

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wordborne · 2 years ago

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How to Cure a Ghost

Ghost was honorably discharged after an accident that took two of his limbs.

It’s up to you, a veteran support worker, to take care of the mysterious man in the white skull mask.

TAGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Veteran Ghost, Disability, Ghost is bad at feelings, Bisexual Ghost, medical inaccuracies (probably) WORD COUNT: 1.8K

This was, by far, the strangest job interview you’ve had in years. It wasn’t at a high-profile office or a fancy café, but rather at a shady pub with sticky floors. Your potential employer, John MacTavish, wasn’t an ordinary man either. His eyes were too expressive, his smile genuine, the mohawk on his head adding a youthful air to him. He explained everything with a precision only a military member could have over a glass of scotch or two while you politely sipped on a pale ale.

“He doesn’t need much help, but some company would do the ol’ boy good.” John said and, without thinking much about it, you were shaking hands to seal the deal.

The pay was good. Way too good for just company and some mental health support, which could only mean one thing:

It would be hard.

His name was Simon. Simon Riley. 48. Lost his right arm and leg during an explosion. Riley was honorably discharged six months ago and given top-notch prosthetics. Still, the bomb hit his dominant side and he couldn’t serve when the nanosecond delay between his brain and his limbs could jeopardize entire missions and he couldn’t hear well due to the tinnitus in his right ear.

That was a long way of saying he was a bitter, angry man.

You dressed to impress as you knocked on his door, not quite prepared, but not willing to back down either. A tall man opened the door. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. A skull mask covering the bottom part of his face. You were halfway through your usual introduction when he sighed.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

And, just like that, the door was shut in your face.

Simon didn’t know what he’d done.

You were outside his door at 8 a.m. sharp for the next two weeks. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t answering.

He opened the door on the 15th day.

“Johnny sent you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“No doubt you’re so annoying. Get in.”

His place was dutifully clean. No medals decorating the place. No pictures. Absolutely nothing that wasn’t the bare minimum. Still, it seemed Simon didn’t need any help with daily chores. He made tea and sat down by the table, ignoring you until the clock struck five and you had to leave after a light dusting and a small questioning he refused to answer.

“See you tomorrow, Simon.”

It took him a month to warm up to you. A whole month of silent visits and him giving you the cold shoulder to understand you weren’t there to coddle him or feel sorry for him. You were there to work. Help him clean and oil his prosthetics. Make meals and do chores when the phantom pain became too much to bear. It took him another two weeks to ask for help. “I can’t tie my bloody shoes.” His flesh hand was shaking with anger, the mechanic one’s fingers twitching every now and then. You’ve seen these things before. How a little action could snowball into a full-blown anger-panic-anger loop. You kneeled down to tie the laces like bunny ears. “Not like that,” He said, and you merely watched with a smile as he undid them and redid them just like he did in the army: pulling them tight, wrapping the laces around the ankle, and tucking them in.

“Good job, Lieutenant.” He realized it a little too late, tossing a glare your way, brows knitting. You held his stare, smiling in a way that reached all the way to the corners of your eyes. The frown stayed on his face the entire day.

Simon hated hospitals. In fact, he’d missed all of his appointments for the last three months. It was always the same, he’d say. And you had to drag his ass out of the house and bring him into your tiny sedan so he could get everything sorted out. His limbs. His ear. His disability checks.

He hated those last ones with a burning passion.

“I’m not fuckin’ disabled just because I have a metal arm.”

And a leg. And a fucked-up ear. And nightmares that still haunted him at night. Sometimes, John would call on your day off at three in the morning, telling you to please drive over. He’d pay you extra. Hell, double if you could just show up and crack some shitty jokes or have a couple of glasses of bourbon with Simon.

He had PTSD. Neither of them mentioned it before. You added it to his personal file. He refused to see a therapist, so a psychiatrist was out of the question but, sometimes, after he’d had a few, he’d tell you about his childhood. About his father and the dead animals and all the blood.

About the bomb.

About Johnny.

Everything about his life was bitter. Doused in gasoline and set on fire. Still, he indulged you with jokes that made you groan. Bough coffee because you were, in his words, uncultured by not drinking tea.

Simon Riley was many things. A good man was one of them.

He had friends over on your day off. His old team. The ashtray was full but he’d cleaned most of the place until he was bone tired. John was the one who opened the door the morning after, smiling and moving aside to let you in. Offering you a cup of Joe.

“You were together once, weren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” He replied. “We broke up after the bomb. It was supposed to hit me, but he pushed me out of the way. I think that, somewhere deep inside, he wished he wouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Lad was fuckin’ miserable when he was recovering. Wouldn’t look me in the eye.”

“Maybe he felt guilty.”

John hummed. “He was always on about things happening on his watch. Maybe this is his way of protecting me.” He said and, after a small pause and a smile, he added: “Wouldn’t mind if he found anyone else, though.”

You took a sip of scalding coffee.

Simon made you cry once. “People like me aren’t meant to retire. We are meant to die out in the field or bleedin’ out in a hospital bed. Johnny only sent you here to make sure I don’t kill myself one of these days.” The outburst seemingly came out of nowhere after you found his purple heart hidden while cleaning and tried to place it around somewhere. It was something to be proud of, you’d said. A reminder of who he was. What he was made of. He didn’t like it. “Simon-“ “Don’t fuckin' ‘Simon’ me. You are a veteran worker, aren’t you? You know how we live. This is fuckin’ hell.” And oh, how you wished the tears didn’t prick your eyes. That they wouldn’t form until they blurred your vision and spilled out because you knew exactly what he was talking about. How many vets had you seen living in the streets? How many more had, after a good day, purchased a gun to end it all? How many times had you come to their homes only to frantically call 911 and sit in the back of an ambulance, wondering if this was all worth it? “M’ sorry.” He said an hour later as you sat on the porch, handing you a glass of smooth bourbon that still burned your throat. And you told him it was okay. It was fine. Those things happened.

And Simon was worth it. He was worth every second. Every inhale. Every space and every meal and your whole damn life, if he so desired. Of course you didn’t say that.

Simon was a very expressive person. Not by conventional means, no, but with his eyes. One look could mean a thousand things, such as don’t touch that, I’m hungry, I need a smoke, I need a drink, Johnny called again and I need you to tell him to stop, I’m in pain and need you six feet away.

But your favorite one was the soft look he threw your way sometimes. Eyebrows relaxed. Jaw a bit slacked. He watched you oil and clean his prosthetics almost with reverence every third day. It didn’t matter if he’d snapped at you. Didn’t matter if you had a rough day and he could tell. You’d treat him just the same. Just as kind. And you had the fleeting thought that, maybe, he didn’t know exactly what kindness was. At least not like this. Not the type you did out of joy and not just because for, in the months you’d spent with Simon, you learned to like him and his odd ways. How he never showed his face. How his hair looked in the morning, all roughed up, eyes squinting at the light and a string of cusses leaving his lips after realizing he’d barely slept again. How he took his tea with no sugar but could eat half a box of pastries in one sitting.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, no.

You liked all your clients, sure. But you weren’t supposed to feel this way about them. Feel attraction. The type of affection that made your heart skip a beat and hold his hand just a little too long, knowing he wouldn’t feel it until he looked down and saw you drawing soothing circles on the back of it.

And today, he had enough.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, swiftly pushing his mask up before his chapped lips crashed against yours in a kiss that you wish you could be stuck in forever. He tasted like bourbon. Like tea and sugar.

You didn’t stop him when he began to pull up your shirt.

Was it wrong to stop going home and opting to stay at Simon’s?

Maybe.

Perhaps there was something among those lines in your code of ethics, but you could throw it out the window for him, and him only. Simon was different. He was rough around the edges but deep, deep down, he was soft. He wanted this. Yearned it. And you craved to give him everything he wanted and then some.

The days were easy, the nights were hard but, with time, he’d just stare at you after a particularly nasty nightmare. Watch you sleep. Feel you breathe. His hand would find the skin showing from between your shirt and pajama pants to ground him. To know this was real. Wasn’t a dream. He was there. You were there. And you weren’t going anywhere. Not until the world fell apart or he wanted you out of his life.

You loved him. Deeply. Passionately. Endlessly. And you knew he felt the same, even if he didn’t show it in conventional ways. It was there in early-morning breakfasts. In lingering touches. In stolen kisses. In the way he laughed at your shitty jokes. In how he’d opened up more and more as time went by. As the months passed and the days seemed all like a content blur.

Simon Riley was in love with you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Call of Duty #COD #Ghost #Simon Ghost Riley #Ghost/Reader #Fanfiction #my stuff

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