#All My Fault Chapter 19

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 19 all chapters

“Jane! Will you hear reason? (he stooped and approached his lips to my ear); “because, if you won’t, I’ll try violence.” -Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

WARNINGS: NSFW, POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T, PLZ TAKE CARE, LOVE U ALL 😘😘😘😘

-It is unfathomable, the amount of dread that manages to build inside you as you make that short walk up the stairs and down the hall. Back to the bedroom, which may as well be your jail cell. The locks on the door engage with what is to you, an ominous click.

Did you really think you were going to get one over on a man who was a professional predator?

You little fool.

You find it hard to read John’s expression. Not mad, exactly, but not happy either. Pensive. You realize he’s deep in thought, and that almost scares you more than if he’d peppered you with threats.

What is he going to do to you?

He drops you down on the bed, hard enough that you bounce. Your first instinct is to try to scramble away, but he is on you in a second, pulling you closer with hands on your thighs that will not be denied.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He leans over you, trapping you in the cage of his arms and his torso. He is so much bigger than you, and you hate it that you find his looming body equally titillating as it is terrifying. Your hands gravitate to his chest, as though to keep him at bay, but mostly…just resting there, on muscle that is like warm carved granite.

You dare to look up meet his gaze, and find his eye has turned from swollen red to a vibrant royal purple. You know it must hurt.

Even more fucked up, you actually start to feel bad about it.

You reach up to touch his cheek lightly. “John…I’m sorry.”

His eyes narrow, and he looks you up and down so neatly trapped beneath him. “Oh, you’re going to be,” he practically purrs.

A trill of fear skitters down your spine.

“My ankle hurts,” you whine, angling for sympathy.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Pretty sure it’s yours.”

He chuckles at you, though there is a dark note beneath it all that lifts every hair on your body.

You are so fucked.

You cannot help but think he is savoring your nervousness, like a cat toying with a mouse. You are shaking like a leaf, and you flinch when he lifts a hand to your face. But he doesn’t strike you, just caresses the curve of your cheek.

You know deep down that he’s just priming you for what is to come, but fuck if it doesn’t feel wonderful to lean into his touch, and you can nearly pretend that he cherishes you. It almost puts you at ease—but you have already learned this man offers no comfort without exacting some impossible price for it later.

He settles farther into you with a low sound like a growl, rubbing the scruff of his beard against your face as though marking you. It is so primal, so far removed from anything civilized, and you…cannot suppress a sigh.

You should struggle and bite and kick—but in that moment, you just...don't want to.

“Hmm,” he grumbles, a sound from deep in his chest that you feel as much as hear. “My fierce little kitten. What am I to do with you?”

“Let me go?”

You don't know why you even ask. You already know his answer, but you just can't stop yourself. You are filled to the gills with the most agonizing mix of arousal and fear, nearly sick with the adrenaline racing through your veins.

This man will kill you just with the threat of waiting, it seems.

He answers by pressing his mouth to yours, taking your lips in a possessive and probing kiss that curls your toes. He pulls you closer, offering you a firm thigh between your legs to grind upon, and goddamn it that if lost in the moment, you don’t take him up on it. You feel him smile against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip.

 It leaves you dizzy with desire, and he takes advantage of your stupefied state, suddenly flipping you on your stomach. You scream a little with surprise, finding yourself bent over the edge of the bed, his narrow hips flush against your backside. You try to struggle up on your elbows, but he pins you down with a large hand between your shoulder blades. 

“Stay there,” he warns you. “Or I'll make you stay.”

Your heart is a thunderous timpani roll in your ears. With your face down in the soft sheets that smell so deliciously like him, you fear you know what’s coming next. Yet he takes his time about it, his gentle fingertips tracing your curves, down to the sensitive skin of the backs of your thighs. It makes you shudder—why does he have to be so gentle, while he’s being so terrible?

You feel his fingers bunch in your hem a moment before he wrenches your skirt up past your waist. 

You cry out, writhing on instinct, but again he pins you with his torso moulded against your back. The warmth of him, and the weight of him…is a damnably delightful thing.

“My bad bad girl.” You feel his fingertips ghosting up your thigh, up to trace the line of your panties over your buttock, teasing just inside the elastic. Your hands fist in the sheets; you can hardly stand it. His light touch feels uneasily wonderful, and your fruitless squirming beneath him is equally fueled by desire and dread. You can feel his erection pressing into your flesh. It does not help the growing ache between your thighs. It's possible you arch into him for a moment, before you regain your wits again, grinding your teeth against every iota of tainted pleasure this man makes you feel.

He cups the round of your butt with a groan of approval, the breadth of his paw making you feel impossibly small. 

“Such a perfect ass. Just made for spanking.”

A spear of cold fear pierces your insides.

“Please don't hit me.” You hate how utterly pathetic you sound, whimpering into the counterpane.

“No? You hit me first.”

“I...you kidnapped me!” 

“Hmm.”

You are realizing that's not going to be a viable defense with this man. 

“Just remember, kitten. Anything you can do.” He kisses the knob of your spine on the back of your neck, making you shudder.  “I can do to you.” Another kiss, lower on your exposed spine, that absolutely fries the wires in your brain. “Ten times worse. Understood?”

“Yes.” You are proud that your voice sounds somewhat level, because all you want to do is sob into the sheets. It makes you so angry, that he can manipulate your body this way, and that the threat of his brutality merely seems to serve as an amuse bouche to your arousal. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“So. My darling doesn't like hitting. I don't either. Should we make a deal?” 

“A deal?” 

“You won't hit me, and I won't hit you.”

“Ok,” you sigh, relieved yet knowing this is not something that in a sane world, should win your gratitude. Little by little, he's tying your hands more, stealing your ability to fight back, catching you up in the web of his game.

His voice drops low as he warns you, “Don't break a deal with me, sweetheart. You won't like it.” 

“I won't.” Your voice is so small, you hardly recognize it.

He makes a sound of approval from deep in his chest, running his hand down your back, almost like he’s petting you.

“But now we're back to square one. How am I to punish you?”

You make a squeak of surprise.

“But—”

“I’m going to have a black eye for at least a week. You owe me something.”

He kidnapped you, and you hit him trying to escape, so you owe him.

Class, welcome to Gaslighting 101.

Worse yet, you know it, but there’s not a goddammed thing you can do about it.

When you remain silent in your fury he further prompts, “Any suggestions?”

You cannot stop yourself from spitting, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He actually laughs at that, a low sound that tugs at your belly and makes you pulse between your thighs.

“I think I have an idea.”

His fingertips hook in the sides of your panties, drawing them down to bare your ass to him. “No…” You try to roll away, but he pins you again with his hips against the bed.

“Feeling shy now? I literally had my tongue inside your sweet little pussy a few days ago.” The reminder of this invokes a throbbing in your cunt that is not helpful at all.

“That was different…”

“Was it?”

A lump rises in your throat, and you barely manage to speak around it. “I trusted you then.”

“I’m still the same man, y/n.” He caresses the curve of your ass cheek, so gently. His fingertips stray agonizingly close to your weeping center, and you know you are a broken thing, for the flood of slick that answers him between your legs. You tremble as you fight not to strain towards him, like a flower seeks the sun. “I think you knew I was dangerous, even then.”

Your breath escapes in a shuddering sigh. He might be right about that…but the rest. There’s no way you could have even dreamed all the rest. You did not sign up for this. You’re going to have to keep reminding yourself of that, no matter how tenuous your reality becomes.

A small sound escapes you, as he bends to kiss the small of your back.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, y/n.” His lips stray lower to the globe of your ass, and you quiver in a mixture of anticipation and fear. His thumb rests at the crease where your thigh meets your butt cheek, so close to your center that you could scream. “A bruise for a bruise.”

“Wait—”

His teeth sink into your ass, hard, and you squeal. 

“John!”

He holds you down, sucking mercilessly, leaving what you realize will be the worst hickey in the history of hickeys. It hurts, but a little voice inside your head sings out, it could be so much worse... and as it goes on...his mouth working on your flesh sort of feels good. You force yourself to remain still, gripping the sheets so hard that you feel like they should tear.

When at last he finishes with you, planting the gentlest kiss over the site he just utterly ravaged, you whimper with relief...and want. He continues his soft kisses, feather light, up your spine again, until his body is draped over yours once more, his erection in his pants fitting snugly in the crack of your ass.

Fuck.

You are a quivering mess beneath him, and there is a chaotic knot in your chest made of fear, desire, revulsion, and yearning. You are coiled tight as a spring, and you know, you just know that if he moved to take you like this you would absolutely let him, weeping with relief, even if you would loathe yourself for it later.

He kisses your cheek, ever so sweetly, as though he hadn’t just scared the bejeezus out of you and practically tried to take a bite out of you besides. “That’s my good girl. You took that so well.”

You can hardly believe the intoxicating flood of warmth that fills you at hearing those words. For the umpteenth time you wonder what the fuck is he doing to you?

You feel him start to move off of you, and before you can stop yourself you make a sound of protest, not wanting him to go.

“Shh. I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He claps your behind just enough to make a sound—and a spear of longing to shoot through you.

Before you can complain about your deal of no hitting, he’s gone, leaving you cold and exposed upon the bed, wondering what the fuck just happened.

-By the time he returns you’ve righted yourself again, pulled up your big girl panties and got in a quick, semi-cathartic cry against the pillow that smells so wonderfully of him.

Dog is at John’s heels, and he is ever so happy to scarf down the remains of your sandwich that still littered the floor.

John scoops up the book that nearly took his head off. You can see his left eye is swelling angrily. He should have iced it immediately—but he had other things on his mind.

“Did it have to be War and Peace?” he grumbles with a frown.  

“Seemed fitting.”

He snorts, though the look he pays you isn’t exactly kind. “Remind me to hide Anna Karenina,” he says, but just replaces it on the shelf, not even bothering to take it away from you.

You guess he won't fall for the same trick twice. 

You're right about that.

After he wraps your ankle with ACE bandage and sits for a while with frozen peas on his eye, he installs a camera up in the corner of the room, right where you can see it. 

“This will stay here until you prove to me you can be trusted with privacy.” 

You frown, but say nothing in return.

-Later, you are resting together in bed, almost like a normal couple. At his demand you agreed to snuggle with him, settling in at his side. His arm is around your shoulders, your head on his chest. The scene is almost sweet, but he has the cold pack on his eye again, and you are elevating your ankle on a pillow.

What a pair you make.

He adjusts the compress on his eye, and you are taken aback after he so insisted on punishing you, he seems to find it funny, a huff of laugher escaping him. “Don't tell anyone you got one in on John Wick, they'll want to hire you.”

Though you should be cautious after everything that just happened, this piques your voracious curiosity once more.

“Were you a big deal, in your world? 

“I was...good at my job.”

“How did you get into that?”

He juts his bottom jaw, the way you've noticed he does when he's agitated, or thinking about something he doesn’t like. 

“I never really had a choice,” he answers finally. “I was an orphan, and the people who took me in trained me to be a killer.” 

You blink at that, trying to decide if he's fucking with you or not. 

“That's like, some Agent Salt shit.”

He tilts his head, not following. 

“You know. Like, KGB Russian sleeper agents?”

He snorts. “Sure, I guess. I might have liked KGB training, compared to what we went through.” 

Before you can stop yourself, you reach up to touch his face, stroking his beard with the blade of your thumb. 

Jesus, you should not feel sorry for this man. But Goddammit. Something tells you that he's absolutely telling you the truth. Something about the way he delivers it, and the way he is…it tracks. He’s not trying to sound tough, or brag, or make up a good backstory about his past.

It just…is, and it breaks your heart in two. 

[tenkohibari]

A crazy theory about the traitor of Tokyo Debunker

°°°

I have a theory about who the traitor ghoul could be.

[This is all translated with the translator, I'm sorry for any possible lexical or spelling mistakes, I hope you enjoy my theory]

[Spoilers for everything up to chapter 7]

Okay, I think that they really told us the truth from the beginning.

No, don't go, listen to me--

I think that, in the preface, before the story itself, where they give you to choose a ghoul to supposedly save, that's where the truth lies. Who is the traitor. And that's why I've been studying each of the statements of the 19 ghouls (except for Ed and Lyca) and GUYS I HAVE FOUND SOMETHING.

Before I tell you who I think the traitor is, I'll give you a little introduction: I've studied each of the ways ghouls throw themselves off the terrace and I've found 5 different base drawings, because they are bases that are repeated within the ghouls when they throw themselves off.

For example, base 1 (that's how I called it) is used by Jiro, Alan, Jin, Luca, Leo and Ritsu. I've been looking for ways to relate them to each other, but I haven't found any. Neither between their statements, nor their names, nor their ways of acting in front of MC. I mean, these guys seem to apologize to MC (each in their own way) except for Leo... That said, Leo's statement seemed hopelessly interesting to me, but I'll talk about it in a few paragraphs later. I thought that maybe the Kanji of their initials in Japanese, or maybe the pronunciation of their names in another language give rise to a secret message of why they chose these characters for this pose, or maybe I'm just thinking too much.

Well, the next position, position 2 (according to me, again) is occupied by Yuri, Rui, Taiga and Towa. Here I think the position fits with the boys and their statements, because none of them seem to really want to let you go. That's why they are trying to reach out their hand towards the MC, although perhaps timidly, because they are really accepting their fate.

Position 3, occupied by Tohma, Haku, Haru and Zenji, in their posture they don't try to get close to you in the least. They know they are going to die and they have accepted it. Again, I don't know how to fit it or link them together, but I know that they haven't been chosen at random. In this game nothing is a coincidence.

Position 4, the last one shared between ghouls, is occupied by Kaito, Sho, Romeo and Subaru. Again I don't know how to link them together. Oh well Subaru's statement made me very intrigued, I'll also discuss it later.

Well, and there is ONE LAST POSITION THAT ONLY HAS ONE CHARACTER

That character is Ren. And I think he is the traitor.

WAIT DON'T GO, LET ME EXPLAIN

Now is when you will say "why do you think Ren is the traitor just because of his falling position?" well, WELL. To start with I don't think there are "coincidences" in this game, that is, if they have made an effort to make only one drawing for Ren, there must be a reason, right?

Well, let's analyze his line now step by step:

~~ "This is exactly the reason I didn't want to do this! I knew this was how it would end! What am I doing here? This is all your fault..."

'This is the reason I didn't want to do this'? What does he mean by 'this'? It could be anything, but what if he's talking about betraying MC? Because Taiga never said who the traitor works for. What if he works for Darkwick...?

We can't trust Darkwick, that's become clear throughout the chapters. Also, the ghouls are aware that they're trapped inside the academy, and that's not counting what he did to Lyca. So I don't rule out the possibility that Darkwick was the one who 'hired' our spy, so to speak. Also, from the beginning it's clear that Ren doesn't fit in at Jabberwock, where he was assigned... What is he doing there? What if the academy put him there by rigging the entrance ceremony? Because we all know that Jabberwock is home to a hundred anomalies... And if a student in charge of taking care of them deals with them, it won't look weird. That's why Darkwick brought Ren into Jabberwock and somehow bought him to work there. Because, do you remember the mermaid named by Hyde in chapter 7? The one that's not in Morktranken? The one under Haru's custody? Ren is from Jabberwock, he might know something about it... And have gotten hold of it to give to the patient... Although this deduction leads me to another question: why would the academy do this? Or is Ren working for someone inside the academy, like an independent body...? Like that janitor who appears four times throughout the story, that very suspicious one about whom we know nothing.

Guys, I repeat that in this game COINCIDENCES DO NOT EXIST

'I knew this was how it was going to end!' Ren knew there was something wrong from the beginning? Not even Taiga knew, in his statement he asked us what we had done wrong... And now Ren comes and tells us that he had a bad feeling from the beginning... This causes a lot of doubts. Because what is Ren doing telling us that if he lives always locked in his phone? That only means that he knows more than he says.

'What am I doing here? This is all your fault' To begin with, why does he blame us? Not even Leo (u, damnit bitch) talks to us like Ren does. Also, speaking of Leo, his statement tells us that "I will make those assholes pay for this" IN PLURAL which indicates that the traitor works for someone else and does not do it for his own ideals... With Leo's statement I completely rule out that he is the spy, to tell the truth. But I could be wrong.

Returning to the subject of Ren blaming us, I can only wonder what leads him to that. Why does he blame us? What leads us to the hell in which the game begins...? And why is Ren the only one who blames us while the rest of the ghouls either blame themselves or don't name it. I mean, not even Leo does! This just makes me think more and more that Ren isn't hiding anything good... And I also wonder why Subaru is the only one who blames himself directly. I know his personality is like that... But I can only think of Subaru and his misleading statement... Maybe the company wants us to think badly of him? After all, Professor Moby told us that the Hotarubi ghouls are hiding something. And we don't know if we've really discovered what they're hiding or if we've only seen the tip of the iceberg. And Haku seems pretty suspicious to me too, after telling the principal "have I ever hidden something from you?" BUT WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT HAKU RIGHT NOW. I know he's hiding something, but I don't think he's the traitor.

Now let's talk about Ren's position.

He's the only one who, when he jumps off the balcony, really seems like he doesn't want to do it. He's the one who stretches his hand out more emphatically towards MC, as if he were regretting what he's doing, or as if he's doing this because he has no other choice or... I don't know. His very stiff posture towards you just seems suspicious to me.

But that's because I think he's the traitor, right? Maybe I'm thinking too much, right?

Remember guys that this here is JUST A THEORY because there are still many chapters and many tests left to be able to refute what we've seen so far. I'm also a follower of several theories that I will be publishing and outlining in the future.

And I'm not an expert in making theories so if you see holes in this one, DON'T HESITATE TO DEBATE WITH ME IN A RESPECTFUL WAY. I'll be reading you ^^

[devildomwriter]

“All of you need to learn to resist temptation. Your lack of self-control is embarrassing.”

“Well it’s not OUR fault, right? I mean, we’re demons, after all.”

“You may be demons, but you can’t lose your head in situations like this. You need to learn some sense.”

“Whatever. I left all of that behind in the Celestial Realm along with my angel wings.”

— Lucifer and Mammon (Chapter 35-19)

[sluttysnowangel666]

Chapters 10, 11, & 12 of The Song of Blackwoods & Brackens

cw: smut, cursing, violence, vomiting

This story is written BY ME and I do not consent or give permission to it being posted or translated anywhere else. thank you for supporting your writers <3

find the other chapters here

Chapter 10: Shame, Shame, Shame

19 days before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

It had been days since I'd seen Benjicot.

The ache in my heart had not let up. I was so ashamed at how much of a fool I made of myself, and I felt as though I could no longer keep up the lie. But, each day I continued to go without seeing him was another day it felt as though my heart was going to shatter. I could not help the tears that began to stain my pillow every night.

After the incident at the brothel, I refused to return to the court yard along the border, instead training with Bracken men.

I also used the extra time to do duties a lord would do. Thankfully, Stone Henge did not have many. There were no council meetings to sit in on since my brother and uncle were gone, I did not need to clean as we had servants to do that, and I was not particularly keen on reading Bracken lineage. I had spent the last week lying around, thinking only of Benjicot and the night at the brothel.

Later in the day, I received word from my uncle who was only less than a week away from reaching King's Landing.

Dearest niece,

I will be arriving in King's Landing in less than half a fortnight. You are to still be preparing for your leave to Casterly Rock. Your brother will return immediately following our meeting with His Grace. When your brother arrives back to Stone Henge, go to Casterly Rock at once.

Uncle

Very short and sweet.

———

While I had been able to avoid Benjicot by hiding inside Bracken territory, I would no longer be able to during my border patrol.

The boy doing it prior had stepped into a divot along the stones and broke his ankle, when no other men volunteered to take his place, I had no choice but to step up.

I started my patrol in the early morning, usually around what time I trained with Benjicot. It was very early dawn, the sun not even peaking out the horizon. The sky was a deep, but not navy shade of blue. It was that time when it is most beautiful, most calm, most eerie. The birds quietly began to chirp, signaling the soon break of the sun. The bugs ceased their chirping, and the owls quieted their calls.

The air was so crisp and fresh. The humidity had not yet creeped its way in to make the lands stink of cattle. There was almost a chill in the air, and I embraced it. I could not help but wonder if I was stolen at birth by the Brackens. Perhaps, I was a true Northerner.

If only I were that fortunate.

"You!" A voice, filled with venom yells.

I whip my head, knowing immediately who it is. "Benji-"

"Training, and training, and training. Time I could be spending on my land, caring for MY people and instead I help you train. I help you train, even though you're a bloody lost cost. Then, you run away. Because you're too much of a whiny cunt to see the real world." He yells, panting by the end of it. "After all I've done... You could've just said you weren't coming back... You could've just said you weren't really my friend... I've waited here, day after day, night after night for you."

"Benji..."

"Don't call me that."

"I am your friend. I... I'm sorry I didn't come back. It wasn't your fault. I... I promise. I just got scared."

"Scared of what?" He asks. I hesitate. "Tell me... Aeron."

He's giving me my chance... But, I can't do it. I can't tell him.

"I'm just... not ready to be a lord. I'm not ready for all the responsibilities that come with it. It all felt too real. It all hit me when we were there... at the brothel."

"Must I train you on how to be a lord as well?" He asks, sarcastically, but I can tell he likely means it.

"Maybe." I chuckle, "I'm sorry..."

"It will be dark for one more hour." He says, "Let's pick up where we left off."

——————

Chapter 11: The Dornish Wine

cw: talks of smut but no actual, vomiting

12 days before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

"You're really improving, Bracken."

I nearly melt into a puddle at Benjicot's sweet words. They were few and far in between, so I always made a point to savor them when they seldomly occurred.

"I've been practicing that trick you taught me."

Since Benjicot and I's argument from last week we had managed to put it behind us, focusing only on our training.

At least during the day.

At night, Benjicot took us exploring.

After the incident at the brothel, I knew I was beginning to tread a fine line. Because of that, I had to make sure I was playing my part full heartedly to not around any more suspicions from Ben.

I kissed maidens, I fondled them, I wove my fingers through their hair, and wove my tongues past their lips. Perhaps one day, the lips I kissed would stop being brothel maiden's and become Benjicot's instead.

I was growing obsessed with him. Each day we spent training, each night we spent drinking, we grew closer and closer; physically and emotionally.

He knocked me down, he pulled me up, he bought our drinks, filled our cups. I found myself getting lost in his eyes, entangled in the words that spilled from his honey coated lips.

"Bracken." His voice breaks my trance.

"Huh?"

"I said ready your sword."

"Oh, sorry." I say. He smiles softly.

"Where'd you go?" He asks.

I pause, "Uh... nowhere. Sorry. Thinking about tonight, I guess."

"Oh, about that. Let's skip the brothel tonight. A shipment of Dornish wine just came in. It's a little sweet for my taste but does the job better than the watered down brothel ale." He says, a small blush coming across his cheeks.

I giggle softly, "Okay. By the weirwood again?"

"No. Meet me by the boundary stones tonight." He says, he turns around facing away from me, and in a swift motion he turns right back around wielding his sword.

I block it and force him backwards, laughing and swinging to land the blow. We fight with our swords, laughing and kicking our feet at each other.

"You're a fool." I say to him, and he laughs.

Our walks to and from our training spot used to be quiet and tense. Now, during the entire hour we spent walking we found new things to talk about.

Today, however, he began asking about me.

The real me.

"I've never heard much of your sister. For a long time I didn't know you had one." He said, as we trekked through the weeds and sticks back to our lands.

"Oh, yeah. We're twins actually."

"No shit." He says, but as more of a statement rather than a question. "What's she like?"

"Oh, you know how high born ladies are," I begin my lie, "They sew and they swoon and they... you know, whatever else it is they do."

"Hm." He doesn't believe me. "And your sister is one those high born ladies?"

"Yes." I say, attempting to end the conversation. But, he continues.

"What's her name?"

"Why do you care?" I ask, sharply. He shrugs, smirking smugly.

I sigh, "Y/N."

It almost feels good saying it out loud.

"Is she a hostage?"

"No. What? Why the bloody hell would you ask that?"

"I've never seen her. I don't fully believe she exists."

"Maybe she doesn't."

"Hm." He hums, "The forgotten Bracken daughter. Useful only when it's time to be sold off to the highest paying lord."

I say nothing. Neither does he.

We arrive back at the boundary stones, the last 10 minutes of the walk had been quiet after that conversation ended.

"Be back here tonight. About one hour after dusk."

Then, he turns and leaves.

———

I sit in the dark upon the boundary stones, kicking my feet back and forth against them. His words echoed in my mind. I was upset, angry. They were painfully true.

My brother would be returning soon, likely within the fortnight. And after that, I would never see Benjicot again.

"Bracken." I turn and see Benjicot, holding up a large flagon of wine. "Ready to see what the Dornish are made of?"

I laugh, my mind immediately forgetting my worries.

"Follow me." He says, and turns back to his land and starts walking.

"We're drinking on your land?" I ask.

"Scared?" He turns and asks with a smirk. He turns back around and keeps walking, not waiting to see if I'm following. I slowly trudge behind him, slightly afraid of someone noticing me. Bracken or Blackwood.

We didn't go very far thankfully. He lead me to a row of tents, likely meant for their army.

They weren't being used, so he brought me into the nicest one. It was large, filled with tables and weapons, as well as a few cots.

I laid back on one of the cots, and Benjicot took a seat upright on the one next to me, immediately drinking the flagon.

His face twisted at the sweetness before he handed it over to me. I drank and contorted mine as well, not yet used to the strong, sweet flavor. I coughed a little and cleared my throat. "Gods. They bloody know well how to make a fruity wine."

"On that much, we agree." He says, taking it back and taking another swig. "Let's play a game."

"A game?"

"A game." He affirms, "A Lannister taught me it."

I groaned, "Forget it, then. I hate Lannister's."

He smirks, "Any reason in particular?"

I sigh and take the wine, "No."

"Let's play then."

"Fine. What are the rules?"

"If I guess a fact correct about you, you drink. If I'm wrong, I drink."

"This sounds stupid."

"Indulge me." He says. I sigh, accepting defeat. He begins, "You're a virgin."

"That's not fair, you knew that already." I say as I take a drink.

"You... despise your family."

I sigh again, taking another drink.

"You love your twin... Much more than you let on."

I drink again, "Okay, it's your turn now, Blackwood."

He takes the bottle and stares at me intently.

"You... aren't a virgin." He drinks, and my heart sinks a bit. "Who was she?"

"That's not how the game works."

I repeat his words, "Indulge me."

"She was a high born girl who was passing through. My family hosted hers. We were young. We snuck into the woods. I took her maiden head."

"Is that why they call you Bloody Ben?" I ask, venom on my tongue.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, "No, it's not, and what do you care so much about it anyway? Are you jealous because you've never been with a lady?"

"No, now drink, because you were wrong about me being jealous."

"I won't drink because I know you're lying. Give me the next question."

"You don't like being called Bloody Ben."

"Wrong. I love it. Now drink." He says, pushing the bottle back towards me. My stomach begins to bubble, the sweetness starting to taste rancid each time it goes down.

"Your turn, again. You're rather shit at this game." He teases. "You don't like women."

I swallow, "Wrong."

"Don't lie." He says, firmly.

I drink. He smirks

"You believe in the true Queen." He says. I drink, the feeling growing worse and worse in my stomach. I feel all my day's indulgences beginning to rise in my throat.

"You're no true Bracken." He smirks.

For some reason, those words push me over the edge.

I vomit all over his legs. "Oh, seven hells, Bracken!" He curses.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." I manage to cough out. I turn and leave the tent as fast as I can.

For some reason I sprint, which doesn't help, and I don't get far.

I fall to my knees, vomiting more and more. I can't help but begin to cry. The embarrassment, the stress, the realization is too much to handle.

"Fucking seven!" I curse, sobbing on my hands and knees, drool spilling from my lips. The dark violet vomit from the fruity wine is all over me, and I reek of tangy and acidic fruit.

I feel a hand rest on my back. I know he probably just witnessed this whole thing, which doesn't help the embarrassment.

"Gods, Bracken, is there anything you can handle?" He asks, as I vomit more. More and more continues to come until I dry heave, the whole time Benjicot rubs his hand up and down my back.

"You're alright, you're alright." He drags me up, although I'm dead weight in his arms. I cry and cry and cry. And when he can't get me to stand on my feet, he drags me all the way back to the boundary stones.

We reach the boundary stones and he finally falls, sitting on the ground. 

He pulls me between his legs, placing his arms around me. He rests his chin on my shoulder, "Calm down, it's okay, Bracken."

"I don't wanna leave!" I drunkenly sob, "You're my best friend. Don't let them take me, Benji." I grip his arms, holding them close to me so they'll never leave me again.

"Sh, sh. I'm here." He hushes, and then sighs as if he chooses his next words carefully. "I think you're gonna be the death of me, little Bracken."

——————

Chapter 12: The Secret

cw: slight smut, more to come tho 🤫

(the moment we've all been waiting for, the slow burn is OVER)

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

-11 days ago-

I opened my eyes. Darkness enveloped my vision, but I could faintly see torches in the distance.

I groaned. My head was pounding, I was incredibly dizzy, and I'm sure if I had anything in my stomach I would have been vomiting it up.

A pained gasp left my lips as I sat up, which awoke Benji, who I hadn't even noticed was sitting directly behind me, his arms around me.

"Take it slow." He says, softly, his voice raspy from sleep.

"Gods," I managed to get out, my voice was hoarse from all the crying and vomiting. "What... Where are we?"

"Still at the stones. I dragged you here."

I turn and face him. We were dangerously close. "I am so, so sorry-"

"Don't apologize." He stands, a cold chill runs up my back where his warmth just was.

"About what I said-"

"I think we should get you home before you say anything else too complex for me to understand." He says. I nod.

He pulls me up slowly, the earth spinning beneath my feet. "You got it?"

I nod, but he keeps his arm hooked under my armpit anyway. It's good he did too, because I was lying. If he had let me go, I might not have gotten back up.

He basically carried me in near darkness all the way back to my castle, despite the risk of us getting caught.

We got to the door and I rested my weight onto the wall.

"Will you be okay from here?" He asks.

"Yes." I sigh, "Thank you, Ben."

He smiles, "I'll see you tomorrow. Be sure you rest well today."

I nod as I watch him turn and walk back to his lands, the sun slowly beginning to rise beyond him.

I don't know why but seeing him walk on my land, the sun gleaming beyond him yet brightening his dark curls... I felt hope.

———

Present

1 day before the battle of the burning mill

Benjicot, the sweetest boy, had managed to forget about my foolish actions again. He'd never brought up the night with the wine, never teased or made fun of me, and never mentioned how he held me in his arms as we fell asleep.

We continued our training in the day, but I was no longer invited out after dark. I can't say I blamed him for no longer wanting me in his company when it came to drinking.

In combat, I was improving greatly. So much to the point he wanted to pause on swordsmanship and train me with a bow and arrow.

"How do you know how to use one of these?" I ask as he pulls out a large wooden bow from the tent, the same one we drank in. Someone had cleaned up my mess, maybe even him.

"My aunt is one of the best in the seven kingdoms at using this." He said. "While I work better with a sword, I've been trained on this as well."

He hands me the bow. I run my fingers along the smooth wood, stopping to trace the Blackwood sigil carved in the middle. "It's beautiful."

He says nothing. He had been quiet the past week. I believed the reasoning to be he had heard the news of my house declaring for Aegon. I tried to avoid talks of politics with him, but he always brought them up, questioning my opinion specifically.

It hurt not hearing his voice as often as usual. Our walks had become quiet again. I was running out of time with him, as my brother would return in days.

He grabbed the quiver holding the arrows and walked past me, not even looking in my direction.

I followed him anyway, head lowered like a scorned little dog. His silence made me feel small. I knew he was displeased with me.

He walked towards the targets, removing old arrows from previous shooters.

His land was empty, save for us. Most men had gone inside for supper or to drink. The sun would be setting within a few short hours. No one had any reason to stay outside.

He takes, rather snatches, the bow from me. He pulls an arrow from his back, raises his arm, and hits the target right in the middle.

"Wow." I whisper quietly. He hands it back to me.

"Raise it." I pull it up and he guides me, "A little higher."

His hand rests under my elbow as he softly continues to guide my arm. "There. Now take your other hand..."

He grabs my hand and rests it on the string, adjusting my fingers to the necessary positions. "Arrow between these two fingers, when you're ready to shoot move the first one so the arrow glides without catching your finger."

He positions himself directly behind me. He's so close that his chest is against my back.

"I'll guide you for the first one." He says. He pulls the arrow and places it on the bow, his fingers rest on top of mine on the string.

He lowers himself so our faces are at the same level. His lips are right behind my ear. I can feel his breath against my hair.

"Pull back." He says softly. I'm losing my breath. I do as he says but my hands are shaking. He surely notices.

"Stop shaking." He grips my fingers slightly.

"Hold..." He says softly. I'm panting by this point. Gooseflesh covers my arms.

"Before you shoot, take it slow. Breathe in as you pull back, breathe out as you let go. Focus." He says, slowly and gently.

I do as he says, and he mimics my breathing. His hand gently leaves mine, and rests under my elbow that's cocked back.

"Think of it as an extension of you." He says, "You and the bow... are one."

I release, and the arrow flies.

Right into the center.

He steps back, and for the first time all week I see him smile at me.

"You're a natural."

I blush as he continues, "I should have known from the beginning when you should've been using your left hand."

He pauses, "You were never meant to wield a sword, but a bow."

"Ben, I-"

"We can work on that more tomorrow." He turns and walks back towards the tent, not giving me the chance to finish.

"Ben!" I run after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides, even though he's only walking.

He walks into the tent and I follow after him. I go to speak, but I can't. Nothing comes out.

My heart is racing. I feel so terribly, terribly nervous. I don't know why. Why do I feel so much dread?

He sets the bow on the long table and turns back to face me, resting his lower back against the table, awaiting whatever it is I have to say.

"I just wanted to thank you... for everything you've taught me." I say. He nods. "Um... I believe you've helped shape me into who I truly am."

He scoffs at that, I raise my eyebrow slightly, but continue anyway. "Today will be the last time we see each other... Lord Blackwood."

"Running back to Uncle Bracken when he returns? Gonna have him tuck you in and kiss your cock?" He says, rudely.

"I... what? What's your problem?"

"You're my problem, Bracken. You always have been."

"Then why'd you train me, for seven sake?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just a bloody fucking fool."

"Do you want me to apologize then? I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to fuck off and don't come back on my land."

I scoff, trying to hide the tears that well in my eyes. "You're unbelievable."

I turn and walk away, he pushes himself off the table and follows.

"Me?! Unbelievable?!" He yells. I go to lift the tent flap when he grabs my wrist, ripping me behind him.

I stumble back into the table where he just was. He steps closer and closer to me, until his chest is against mine, "You've got nerve. You might genuinely have balls, in fact, to call me unbelievable."

If I wasn't so concerned about how close he was to me, I might've noticed his choice of words. But my mind was running farther than I could catch it. I could only focus on the proximity, or lack thereof, between us.

"Unbelievable... You wanna know what I find unbelievable, Bracken?" He asks, softly, moving his lips beside my cheek so he can whisper into my ear. His hands place themselves beside me onto the table as he leans over me. "What I find unbelievable..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. He pulls away and looks at me.

He's silent. I'm silent. Everything is silent. There's no bugs, no owls, no animals. The only sound is our fast, breathless panting. Why's he panting? Why am I panting?

"Fucking forget it."

He slams his lips on mine, finally. Oh gods, finally. His hands move to my face, resting them on both of my cheeks. He pulls me into him, as if he is trying to merge us into one.

"Wait, Ben-" He keeps kissing me. "Hold on, Ben, there's something-" More kisses.

His hands weave through my hair, pushing my head towards him so I can only pull away for quick breaths.

I bite his lip, hard enough to draw blood. "Ow, fuck!"

I push him away, "I'm not who you think I am."

He's angry. He looks at the blood on his fingers from touching his lip. "You fucking..." He doesn't finish his sentence, even though usually insults come easy to him. He's holding back.

He shakes his head, licking the blood, and then he's kissing me again. "Ben, please, there's something you must know-"

"I know." He whispers quickly, going back to our heated kiss.

"No-" Kisses. "No, you don't-"

"I know." More kisses.

"Ben!" I yell, angrily. I push him off, "I'm not a man!"

I walk past him so he can't kiss me again. As bad as I want to, I can't do it. Not before I tell him. "I'm not Aeron Bracken-"

I barely get it out in time before I'm pressed against the wall, his chest pressed to my back. My cheek touches the soft cloth of the tent, and Ben snakes his fingers up my stomach to my jaw, gripping my cheeks into his fingers.

It feels like everything finally slows down, including him. "I know, Y/N." His voice is low, and raspy. I gasp at my name.

"What?! Ben?" I turn and face him. He cups my cheeks with his hands.

"I've always known." He says, "I knew from the moment I saw you crying on the ground at that courtyard."

"How?" I asked, shocked.

"How? Y/N, you weren't exactly subtle." He says, "But, it was entertaining. I wanted to see how long you would drag it out... But, I couldn't fucking wait for you anymore."

I slap him angrily, and he smirks at me. But gods, that smile. He was so hard to hate. "If you knew... Why didn't you fucking kiss me sooner?"

"So, I should have kissed you the moment I knew I wanted you? Despite the fact you've been lying to me for weeks?" He says, frustrated. "I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me on your own."

I don't say anything right away, because I know he's right. "I trust you with my life... I'm sorry I lied. You didn't deserve that."

"I don't care, Y/N." He kisses me again with desperation.

"This is so wrong." I say, reciprocating his kiss.

"I don't care." He repeats. He mumbles it into my neck over and over with soft kisses. I lean my head back to give him more access. Shivers run down my spine.

"Let me have you." He whispers in my neck, "I need you, little Bracken."

His hands grip my waist, ready to rip off my clothes the second I say the words.

"Take me, my lord."

[sunny44]

Marriage (Part 9)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: nothing

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Since the day we argued, Mason had been staying at Ben's house and I had been alone since then.

The test was still in the drawer and I hadn't looked at it yet.

Since the fight, I hadn't had the courage to look, and I didn't want to do it alone.

Not without him.

I knew he wasn't thrilled about me coming to Monaco with him, but since we had already agreed that both of us would go and it would be strange if only he showed up, I ended up going too.

This time, Phil and Ruben were joining us.

Mase and I were sitting side by side, but it felt like we were miles apart.

When we arrived at the hotel, we were obviously in the same room. I dropped the bags in the corner and sat on the bed.

"Can we talk?"

"I'm heading for a shower now."

“Mase.”

“Please, don’t do this right now.”he said, entering the bathroom.

I sighed defeated and held back tears, mainly because the fault for us being like this was mine.

I kept thinking that if I had told him the truth none of this would’ve happened, the fact that I hurt him makes me sick.

So I decided to leave the room and go to the restaurant to eat something because I was very hungry. I sat at a table as discreet as possible and ordered a burger.

"Can I join you?" I heard a voice and saw Max.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"Please?"

"Look, I don't want to be rude, but I'm not in a good mood and you've caused me a lot of problems lately."

"What do you mean?" He said, sitting. "Is everything okay?"

"Mason found your letter." I said, looking at him. "And we're not doing well."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Apparently, it is."

"In this case, it's not." I sighed. "You apologized many times and I decided to keep dwelling on the past and not forgive."

"You're upset, and rightfully so. I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that." He said. “You don’t need to accept my apologies if you don’t feel like forgiving me.

"I know you're sorry and even though I have every reason to be upset, I choose to keep remembering our situation and Instead of moving on and stop dwelling on all the bad things that happened to me and that’s why I ended up missing out on the good things in my life." I sighed. "I wasn't unhappy. I found someone who loves me for who I am, and I didn't appreciate that. I preferred to dwell on the past instead of focusing on the future, and here I am."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Do you really love Mason? Because if the answer is yes, you should go after him." He spoke calmly. "But if the answer is no because you still feel something for me, even if it's minimal, I want you to know that I still love you, and if you want to give me a chance, I'm here."

I didn't say anything, just sighed, and at that moment, my burger arrived.

"Thank you.” I thanked the waiter.

"I'll be in my room." he said, getting up. "If you show up there, I know we still have a chance. But if you don't show up, I'll understand that you chose him."

"Max."

"Just think about it, please." he said and left me alone with my thoughts.

Bonus scene!

Masonmount instagram stories

“Another weekend, another F1 GP”

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercoverosh @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @luvrrish @tyna-19 @esposadomd @formulas-bitch

Just to let you guys know, I will write to part’s 10, one is with a Max ending and the other one is with a Mason ending.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (7)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I had so much fun writing the past two chapters.

Warnings: Angst, minor mention of vomiting if you squint, fighting. As usual 18+ so dni if you're a minor or blank account

The feeling of bile rising rushed to your throat and you darted for the bathroom down the hall, making it to the toilet just in time. You heaved and wretched, your body shaking as your head hung above the toilet bowl. Although it took away the queasiness in your stomach, the anxiety still loomed within you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded but at the same time weighed down heavily. The dream played over and over in your head like a movie. It was overwhelming.

After taking a much needed shower and brushing your teeth, you spent the next three hours laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You felt paralyzed with all the emotions you were feeling. You thought if maybe you laid there long enough you’d disappear, becoming nothing more than dust. It wasn’t working though. How were you supposed to explain this to either of them? That it was written in the stars that you belonged to them both equally?

The two men you adored were at a constant war with each other. The only time the three of you had been around each other ended with them ripping each other to shreds. Was it really possible for them both to share and love you equally when the mere mention of either of their names had them brewing with anger? 

Maybe you had misinterpreted the dream, it was completely possible. However, there was only one way you’d find out: you had to ask your mom. A deep wave of shame came over you. What would she think of you? How would she react? Groaning you rolled over, closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling. Your body shook as you sobbed into your pillow. This is what you wanted, right? If that was the case, why did you feel so sad?

When you got out of bed next, you noticed the sun was setting. Checking your phone, you noticed it was 7:00 PM. How long were you out? You also noticed the stream of texts and calls you had received. Five from Jacob, six from Edward, and one from Bella. Hers was the most recent of all of them. You muted the chats with Jacob and Edward, it was for the best right now. Opening Bella’s you decided to respond, you were sure she’d share your well being with the two of them.

Bells: Hey are you ok? Everyone’s worried : (

Your heart clenched. You couldn't help but feel bad but at the moment, you weren't sure how anyone would react. You were anxious and mentally drained.

(Y/n): I’m safe. That’s all that matters

Bells: That’s not what I asked. I asked are you doing okay?

(Y/n): Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. I’ve got some things to figure out.

Bells: Did something happen with Edward last night? Did Jacob do something?

(Y/n): They didn’t do anything, it’s all my fault. </3

You clicked your phone screen closed before flopping back on your bed, listening as the crickets chirped outside. You turn your head as you hear your door open. Your mom walks in with a plate. A sandwich made with the bread from last night and a side of chips. She smiles sympathetically, setting the plate down on your bedside table before sitting on the side of your bed.

“Is this about the ritual?” she asks softly. You nod weakly. She nods before flopping down on her back laying next to you. She turns her head to look at you. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really but…I know I should…” you try to gather your thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. “Jacob was there. We were really happy together. But then the other guy, Edward, he was there too. In the dream They were both hugging me.” you say, deciding to omit the part where you made out with both of them. “What’s wrong with me? Am I broken?” your voice breaks, hot tears springing from your eyes. Your mom sits up, pulling you into her arms.

“Honey, no. You’re not broken at all.” she rubs your back gently. It reminds you of the same way she used to when you’d run into her and dad’s room after a nightmare. It’s comforting and calms you down just a bit. “It’s happened before. However, it’s usually only like that when the other two are occults which is why you rarely see it. Witches of the past often had two or more soulmates. Your great grandmother did.” you tense up, looking up at her.

“That’s the thing, mom. They hate each other. Jacob he’s…he’s a shape-shifter. Edward is a vampire. I think it’s just best if I don’t speak to either of them.” you sigh, sniffling as you rub at your drippy nose.

“I didn’t raise you to be a quitter (Y/n) (L/n). It’ll be difficult, sure. Down right frustrating. But are you really going to deny yourself your truest, deepest love connection?” her tone and face was stern, something you rarely saw from her. You knew she was right, but were you strong enough? “You’re a big girl and I can’t make that choice for you. But what I will say is give yourself time to think before making such a rash decision to just give up. Who knows, they might surprise you! Plus, you’re going to have to see them Friday regardless.” she was right, as she usually was. You didn’t wanna give up. And even if you did, you’d still have to speak to them Friday. The big game was coming up and you sure they’d be coming over with their fathers. You liked them both and it was clear after that dream, that they both harbored that affection for you too. You just needed time to process everything.

“Thanks, mom.” you say softly. She gives your hand a quick squeeze before standing up and heading for the door.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Eat your sandwich, you’re gonna need it!” your stomach grumbles at the mention of food. With all your moping, you haven't eaten all day. Your stomach had been far too upset to hold anything down but water. Grabbing the sandwich, you head to your desk before pulling out your good stationery. You owed them at least some explanation for your absence.

On Tuesday, you placed a charm on your window and balcony door. You knew with your absence, that one of them would come to check on you and you were right. Many times throughout the night, you heard the windows and balcony door rattling, trying to convince yourself it was the wind.

On Wednesday, you made them each a basket with a letter. In Jacob’s was the loaf of bread your mom wanted you to send, a container of cookies that she had made that day, and a letter explaining that you were okay and that you just needed space. In Edward’s was the CD you burned for him, a copy of Napoleon Dynamite, and a similar letter. You casted a spell so they’d deliver themselves. You slept throughout the night with no disturbance but when you woke up Thursday, on your balcony was a polaroid of Jacob and the gang at La Push with ‘wish you were here!’ written on the bottom and a single rose with an ‘E’ charm attached to it. It was bittersweet. 

You felt guilty for not communicating to them directly and it was starting to hurt you too. You missed both of them equally but you felt more prepared to have the chat with them tomorrow. It was hard to focus on much of anything but you had gone over all the scenarios. The good, the bad, the ugly. There wasn’t much else you could do besides focus on you. You had been neglecting your self care and yourself, running yourself ragged. 

Examining yourself in the bathroom mirror, you nearly winced at your reflection. You had deep sunken bags under your eyes, your acne was coming back, and the skin of your body was as dry as sandpaper. Reaching into the mirror, you grabbed a turmeric face mask applying it over your face. The tub was almost completely filled up, the scent of vanilla and the bubbles luring you in. You step into the tub, letting out a sigh. Tomorrow may be fast approaching but that didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to enjoy today.

Jacob’s temper had gotten worse since he presented, he was aware of that. But the fact that (Y/n), his (Y/n) was doing bad and he wasn’t allowed to be there for her? That made him furious. He could respect that she needed her time and space, but he couldn’t help but feel that that bloodsucker had something to do with it. Before he left to patrol the outer borders of Washington for his pack for a week, she was fine. And suddenly, after he’s back without being able to keep watch on her, she’s suddenly struggling? With misfortune, the Cullens were almost always behind it. He watched it happen with Bella and he had sat back then. But this time there was no chance in hell that he was letting Edward get away with this. 

Even though they had updated the Pact to where they could cross the borders into each other’s territory, a part of him still always had a distrust. He had come to respect Carlisle and his wife, they were kind individuals. He had even come to tolerate Alice, Jasper, Emmett and sometimes Rosalie. But Edward? He was nothing but trouble. 

As he grew closer to the house, he could see Edward was already there. Stomping onto the porch he grabbed him by his shirt, snarling in his face.

“What did you do to her?!” he screamed, Edward pushed him over, shoving him back. His eyes were a fiery gold, filled with anger. 

“I should be the one asking you that. I was with her Monday and suddenly you and the rest of the mutts came back and she won’t speak to me.” he spit out. His tone was much calmer but it still held the same venom his own did. Jacob went to swing his fist but as he did, Edward dodged it, throwing him to the ground.

“I told you to stay away from her!” he growled out, using his leg to sweep Edward. He fell down the stairs and Jacob used that to his advantage, jumping on top of him. All he could see was red, his breathing was out of control. Edward smirked up at him.

“She’s not talking to you either, is she?” Jacob froze his fist above his face.

“Stay out of my fucking head.” he seethed through gritted teeth. Edward pushed him off, Dusting himself off and Jacob was quick to follow standing up.

“I don’t need to be in your head to know you somehow managed to screw things up.” he stated matter of factly. Jacob punched him in the jaw, sending him flying back but Edward landed on his feet, returning the punch with speed. Jacob glared at him angrily, spitting blood out the side of his mouth.

“She’s too good for you.” Edward’s face faltered for a moment as he stood still before beginning to laugh again.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me…you imprinted on her? Pathetic .” Before Jacob could pounce on him, a hand was on his chest. Looking down he saw Bella, holding the two of them back.

“She’s not talking to anyone right now, not even me. And it very well might stay that way if you two keep arguing out here like children!” The silence that took over was tense. As stubborn as Jacob was, he knew Bella was right.  As he had learned many times before, fighting with Edward would lead to nothing but a lot more conflict with everyone and with how (Y/n) was currently doing, that isn’t what anyone needed right now. He huffed out, taking a few steps back.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Edward asked, his expression full of concern. Bella shook her head.

“She didn’t go into detail but she said it’s all her fault. I have an idea of what it might be from Alice but it’s not my place to say. But what I can say is that if you two don’t get your act together, neither of you might see her again.” The two of them looked at each other, an unspoken conversation happening. They had to at least be civil for the time being.

“(Y/n)'s dad invited both our dads to the game tomorrow. She said see you Friday in my letter. Yours?” Edward asked. Jacob nodded.

“Mine too. She must be expecting us then.” he said, putting two and two together. Edward nodded in agreement.

“We need to come to an understanding. If it’s about…where she stands with us, the other one will agree to being in her life platonically only. No dirty tricks, no arguments. I’d be fine with that. I want her happiness above all.” Jacob had to think about it. It wasn’t as simple as just being able to back off. (Y/n)was his imprint. It was painful being away from her for even that week, would he be able to keep his hands off from her forever? Give up the nights where they’d fall asleep in her bed, waking up in each other's arms? ‘I don’t have to worry about that, she’s going to choose me.’

“I love her. Even just being in her presence is enough for me.” he said, choosing to ignore the way Edward rolled his eyes.

“Let’s see if you can stick to that.”

8

[blckbarbiedoll]

Million Dollar Baby

Chapter 4-Advantage, Zweig

CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT (fingering, p in v sex, kissing, etc.)

September 12, 2007-Stanford, California

"I missed you." Tashi said as she took a bite of her food.

"I missed you too. I'm gonna try to come visit more."

"So, what've you been up to?" Art asked. "Ya know, besides being the best tennis player in the world?"

"Definitely not the best. Maybe second best." You joked.

"Oh, come on. You're fucking phenomenal. You've won two grand slams and you're going to the Olympics at 19. You have an Adidas brand deal."

Tashi's demeanor changed. She looked a mix between annoyed and sad. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

"Guess what." You asked.

"What?"

"I ran into Patrick at the U.S. open."

They both paused their actions for a moment and looked at each other.

"Cool." Tashi responded.

"You can't avoid him forever. I know he misses you guys."

"Come on. We're gonna be late for the movie." Art stood up, changing the subject.

🎾

"We should do something over the summer." You suggested.

Art's arm was wrapped around your waist as the three of you walked into the campus.

"What about Florida?"

"Babe, you can go to Florida anytime. Let's go somewhere tropical."

"Well, when you win the Olympics next year, we can go somewhere to celebrate."

"I'm definitely not gonna win. I'm just happy I qualified."

"You're definitely gonna win. And I'm gonna be watching on tv cheering you on."

You rolled your eyes and kissed him softly. Once you got into the school and into the elevator, you parted ways with him.

"I'll meet up with you later. I'm gonna hang out with Tashi for a bit."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll send you a post card from the other side of the campus." You both walked into her room and you flopped onto the bed. "You okay?" You asked her. "You've barely said a word since we walked out the theater."

"What's your goal here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you tryna get back at me for something?"

"Tashi, what're you talking about?"

"It seems like lately all you've been doing is bragging about your perfect little boyfriend, and your perfect little career, and your perfect little life."

"Are you jealous?" You stood up.

"Yeah. I guess I'm fucking jealous. Jealous of the life that should've been mine."

"What?"

"I spent my entire life trying to get where you are. I worked, and I sacrificed, and I busted my ass for what I have. You didn't even want this!" Tears fell down her face as she walked closer to you. 

"Look, I'm sorry you got hurt. I really am. But that's not my fault and you don't have to take it out on me."

"It should be me going to the Olympics! It should be me with Art!"

"Art? So now this is about you wanting my boyfriend?"

"You're traveling most of the year! He doesn't need someone like that! He needs someone who can be there for him!"

"You intolerable bitch." You scoffed. "When you're done projecting your insecurities onto me, let me know."

"Sometimes I wish you got hurt instead of me."

Your jaw clenched and you felt your eyes begin to water.

"Patrick was right about you." You opened the door and hesitated a minute before opening it. "The worst part is even after all this, I'll probably still love you." You walked out and made your way to Art's dorm. You wiped your tears away before you knocked, not wanting him to worry.

"Hey. That was quick."

"Hey, I'm gonna leave a few days early, okay?" You walked in and set your suitcase on the bed.

"What? You just got here last night."

"I know. I just think I should go now." You shoved your stuff into the bag, avoiding eye contact with him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from packing. 

"Slow down. Are you crying? Did something happen?"

You wiped your face again and pulled your hand away.

"Tashi and I had a fight."

"But you guys'll be okay, right?"

"I don't think so." You took a deep breath. "I also think we should take a break."

"A break? Did I do something?"

"No, Art." You grabbed his hands. "You didn't do anything. I just need a little time. Between just coming from the U.S. open, organizing the brand deal, training for the Olympics, and now this fight, it's just too much. But I love you so much. I just need some time."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. But I'm always gonna love you. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

You gathered the rest of your belongings and hugged him goodbye. You kissed his cheek and headed towards the door.

"I love you, Art."

"I love you too."

🎾FOUR YEARS LATER🎾

You waited anxiously by the door, waiting for a knock. After pacing back and forth for twenty minutes, you heard the sound you had been waiting for.

"Hey, Pat." You smiled as you pulled him into a hug.

"Hey, beautiful. Nice room. I mean, The Ritz? The Adidas money came in, I see."

"Thanks." You laughed and led him inside. "Do you want a drink? I made the dinner reservation for 8:00."

"Sure."

You grabbed two beers and sat on the sofa. You patted the spot next to you, signaling for him to sit.

"So, tell me what you've been up to." You took a sip.

"Uh, well, I still haven't won a slam."

"You'll get there. It's almost a new year."

"What about you? Gonna be a two time olympic gold medalist."

"I might not win."

"You will."

"Maybe."

"For sure."

You laughed and set your beer on the coffee table before scooting closer to him.

"You seeing anyone?" You asked him.

"Nah. Ya know how it goes. They always wanna come, but they never wanna stay."

"They're idiots then. Any girl or guy would be lucky to have you."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"I've just been keeping to myself since Art and I broke up."

"What happened?"

"I just needed a break." You sighed. "But, c'est la vie." You shrugged.

"Ayesha?"

"Hm?"

"Why'd you invite me to your hotel?"

"I heard you were in town, and I had the night off."

"We haven't talked in four years. Why now?"

"I missed you, Patrick."

"You missed me?"

"Am I not allowed to miss my friend?"

"Is that what we were?"

"We were both taken, so yeah. That's what we were."

"And what about now?"

"I think...the night is still young. Who knows what could happen."

"Huh." He smirked as his arm draped over the back of the couch. "You wanna know something?"

"Sure."

"Sometimes I wish that I had gotten your number instead of Tashi's."

"Well, you have my number now."

"I do."

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against his. He held onto your waist to pull you closer to him. You grabbed Patrick's hand and led him to the bedroom.

"I missed you so much." He whispered while he was urgently taking your clothes off. He kicked his shoes off and lifted his shirt over his head. "I think about that night at the hotel a lot." He said while unzipping your romper. "I regretted not fucking you that night for years."

"Well, now's your chance." You kissed him roughly as your hands made work of his pants buttons. 

You pulled your romper down and tossed it onto the floor. He did the same with his jeans before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. He set you down and started to kiss your neck. Your hand went down to rub his dick through his boxers.

"Fuck." He groaned as his fingers slipped under your panties. "You're so wet for me already." 

"Patrick." You sighed as two of his fingers entered you, his thumb circling your clit.

His fingers continuously pumped in and out while he marked up your neck and chest. Your hand grabbed his bicep and squeezed it as the pleasure became too much to handle. 

"That feels good, doesn't it?"

"Oh my god, yes."

"I've been waiting for years to touch you." He kissed the spot right under your ear. "To make you cum."

"Oh, fuck." You groaned.

"You gonna cum for me?" He whispered into your neck.

"Yeah." Your nails dug into his skin as he moved his thumb faster. "Shit!" You cried out as you came around his fingers. 

He slowly pulled them out and brought them to his lips. "You taste so good."

You flipped him over so that you were on top of him. He helped you pull your panties down and you threw your bra onto the floor. You hovered so that he could get his boxers off. He kissed you while your hand went down to slowly stroke him. You lined your hips up with his and sank down onto him.

"Shit." He groaned. He held onto your hips while you rocked back and forth.

"You feel so good." You moaned against his lips.

The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing. You knew neither of you would last much longer. He moved his hand down to rub your clit.

"Art said you were good, but fuck, I didn't know you'd be this good."

"You talked about me?" You asked as you continued to move your hips.

"Yeah. He used to call me and I'd ask about you. He didn't tell me everything, but the little he did had me hard as a fucking rock."

"Did you jerk off while thinking about me?"

"Fuck." He sighed. "Yeah."

"That's so fucking hot."

He took the opportunity to copy you and flipped you over. He started thrusting into you while looking into your eyes.

"You're close again, aren't you?" He asked. You nodded, which made him smirk. "Words, baby. Lemme hear you."

"Yeah. I'm close."

"Me too. Where do you want it?"

"Inside."

"You sure?"

"I have an IUD. Please, Patrick, I want you to cum inside me."

He cursed under his breath and rubbed your clit faster as he felt himself letting go. You threw your head back against the bed as you finished with him. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while you both caught your breaths.

"Tashi was right." You spoke.

"Huh?"

"You do have a big dick."

You both laughed and laid together, basking in the afterglow.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 16. liar, liar

chapter tags/warnings: infidelity/adultery...lots of it. multiple partners mean many fluids in the action. mentions of rough sex. mentions of breeding. guilt-driven sex. nonconsensual acts. manipulative undertones. humiliation. strong language. classism.

word count: 4.0k

notes: thank you for the comments i've received about my graduation and for your patience in this update! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Eleven missed calls. 

All of which came from your husband. 

With your phone placed away, you had not realized this deluge of notifications until Choso dropped you off at your apartment lobby.

“Bastard still thinks you’re his good lil’ wife,” Choso snickered when he peered over your shoulder, scanning the messages as well.

Driven by post-coital bliss, his mood had improved dramatically on the drive back, and he grinned stupidly beside you. At some point, you had to push his smug face away so that he would stop gloating over the words on your screen.

Where the fuck did you go? I’m still at the restaurant looking for you, one of Naoya’s bitter texts read followed by another sent twenty minutes later: I’m already home now, goddamnit.

Oh, the dread. 

The raw dread that filled you, knowing that you had a husband waiting for you at home. A dream for many, yet a curse for you...which was why once Choso bid you goodbye, this awful trepidation only intensified now that you were once again nothing but alone. 

The long elevator ride up to the penthouse didn't help either, your anxiety consuming you as the numbers on the floor display ticked higher. Sometime before the elevator reached the twentieth story, you caught sight of your reflection in the mirrored walls.

Wow, with this new wild hairdo, you looked like a tornado survivor.

Oh, but before Naoya saw you, there was something else you should be more concerned about.

You stumbled towards your closest reflection, your breaths coming to a stop as you slowly—very slowly—peeled up your dress.

“Please...no,” you silently prayed but nothing could stop the gasp at your lips once the hem was pulled past your hipbone, revealing the purple bruises on your outer thighs and the prominent swelling at your ass. 

“Oh my,” you winced when you ran a finger over one particular welt.

Naoya must never get a glimpse of this.

Shame burned at your face, which had marks of their own.

To justify this most recent escapade, you convinced yourself that this was what Naoya deserved after his hurtful words during dinner. Furthermore, if what the therapists said was true—if Naoya was truly cheating on you—you definitely merited rights to your own (reverse) harem, right? An eye for an eye.

Okay, there were faults in this logic, but you must suspend beliefs if you hoped to feel better about yourself.

When a telling ding signaled your arrival at the sixtieth-second floor, you scrambled, pulling your dress over the blemishes and patting down some stubborn baby hairs. Once the elevator doors parted, you paced briskly to the penthouse entrance, the unit’s usual jasmine scent greeting you followed by the overhead lights that flickered on.

You thought that you were the only one in the apartment until you spotted Naoya in the living room. He had a long day, but he was awake rather than asleep, sunken into the sofa. From the back, he appeared bored, shuffling idly through different channels on TV.

“I’ve returned,” you announced unceremoniously, slipping off your heels. 

When your husband turned to look over his shoulder, you half-expected him to erupt in fury—to degrade you, to command you, to do everything to emotionally hurt you until he pleased himself using you. After all, that was the typical response that you had grown accustomed to. 

In fact, Naoya almost seemed to have ignored you had it not been for how he stood up from his seat, revealing the tall silhouette that blended with the cityscape background behind him. Hands tucked into his pockets, he strode languidly toward you on long legs and silent steps until he stopped a mere foot away.

“What’s that?” he inquired about the shopping bag you just placed down. He peered inside and surely recognized the dress that Choso had so graciously returned. “Had you gone somewhere?”

“Picked this up from the dry cleaner,” you babbled only to immediately wish that you hadn’t. This was an awful fabrication that was formulated from impulsivity rather than wit, confirmed by how Naoya narrowed his eyes.

“I see,” Naoya hummed in acceptance, likely trying to understand why you decided to make a spontaneous nighttime trip to the dry cleaner when you were supposed to be on a dinner date with him. Then, he added very casually, “You didn’t respond to my texts, by the way.”

Neither did you, you wanted to retort. When he had vanished into thin air these past few days, did he bother to look at the many messages that you sent him? Of course not. Rather than stir a commotion, you merely uttered, “Sorry.” 

“Just don’t do that again,” he advised. For a moment, he glanced to the side—almost like he was about to burst from frustration—before he calmly said, “I was worried about you.”

Now this you were not expecting.

Your chest even fluttered given that your husband rarely voiced his concern for you. Had you responded to his texts, would he ever tell you something like that?

His mood was pleasant—far too pleasant because this was Naoya Zenin in the question, a self-absorbed husband whose indecent wife missed each of his eleven calls because she was too busy getting her pussy stretched (but he didn’t need to know that last point, right?).

On that note, guilt tugged hard at your stomach.   

While you had planned to confront Naoya about his potential infidelity, the idea suddenly seemed too out of place, and you were ashamed that you doubted faithfulness at all.

That was when you reminded yourself: Naoya would always be the endgame. The fuck session earlier tonight was only to get your mind off the husband that you were hung up on. Naoya was who you truly wanted in the end. The fresh change with Choso—you justified—was to lift your mood, so you could forgive Naoya for his earlier insults.

Nonetheless, this guilt was much too heavy to swallow.

This wretched feeling only intensified as Naoya closed the distance, gently leaning over to seal your lips closed. I’ve missed you, his kiss seemed to say.

Earlier tonight, he might have confessed how his intention with you was purely sexual, a statement that trampled on your already aching heart. But, in the end, Naoya was whom you were expected to spend the rest of your days with.

You gripped onto his shirt as his lips traveled to your jaw, the quiet smacks ringing softly in your ears before you felt him kiss the side of your neck, and his warm exhale excited a slight shudder down your spine.

Whether his actions were driven by emotion or duty, you didn’t know. But what you did know was how much you wanted to give yourself in to him, to sink into the arms that encircled your waist, to let him caress and then use you—all in an attempt to relieve you from your sins.

If only life was that simple.

“This smell,” Naoya murmured, lips vibrating against your collarbone as he spoke, “comes from another man.”

Your blood turned cold.

“...What?”

Caught completely off-guard, you could feel your sympathetic nervous system kicking in, your cold fingertips and widened eyes telltale signs of your fright. Before Naoya could look downward, you pulled at your dress to hide the bruises by your thighs, which would be a surefire giveaway to the dirty deed you had done earlier. However, you were not thinking, perhaps downright possessed even, when you tried to save yourself by adding, “That isn’t what you think it is.”

Although Naoya was still by your neck, even you could see how he cocked a brow at the comment.

“’That?’” he repeated, then pausing briefly. As his confusion waned into dubiety, he straightened up slowly and loomed over you. “That what?”

Oh, no—

“That what?” Naoya said again, except his tone this time around could cut like a sharpened blade. His face deepened and darkened for every second that passed, his expression souring into a frown with furrowed brows. Even his lips tugged between a smile and a jeer as if he seemed tied between derision and disbelief. He certainly made his mind, though, when he caught your hand shielding a certain bruise. “What...are you hiding?”

That was when panic swallowed you whole.

“Nothing. It’s just...I didn’t mean to—” Terror locked words in your throat, but you certainly made the wrong move when you blurted, “I had told him not to—“

“Him?”

Oh, now you really aroused Naoya’s curiosity, not to mention that he looked furious because why should he ever love a wife unfaithful to him?

“No!” you shouted when Naoya tore your arm towards him. Efforts to free yourself quickly proved futile given his firm clasp. Rather, Naoya first stared at your hand, studying the cuts across your palm before his gaze trailed down to the much more obvious marks on your thighs and knees.

For several silent moments, he appeared deep in thought...pondering and pondering...his flat expression too difficult to read. Only when the seconds turned into a full minute did Naoya cautiously loosen his grasp around your wrist, releasing you from captivity.

Relief swelled over your system because you assumed you were safe, that Naoya was actually a more forgiving husband than you had originally given him credit for. You even backed away from him knowing that you were now liberated from his scrutiny.

Until your husband very calmly added, “Seems like I’ve missed out on something exciting.”

You froze.

For a man red hot with anger mere minutes ago, Naoya was now so amused that you found his change in tone too eerie, his expression so stern that you must promptly avert your gaze to the hardwood floor.

“I...don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vainly, you tried to play down the weight of the matter. “Just headed out for a bit. Nothing for you to be concerned with.”

“Oh really?” The inflection in Naoya’s pitch was incredibly insulting and incredulous. “To the dry cleaners? Or don’t tell me that my beloved wifey lied to me because she had actually gone somewhere else? Because you sure were desperate to cover up for something that ‘wasn’t anything important.’”

Fuck.

“I—” A gulp.

Naoya did not need long to notice the backward shuffles in your steps. He followed you, stalking forward like a mountain lion closing in his pathetic prey. Ideally, you would like to tell him to stop, that you could barely think with him at such proximity, but the potential consequences of telling him off seemed too dangerous.

“Well, tell me,” he urged. With one last step, he cornered you such that your back pressed against the wall, his hands planted on either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, and remnants of his tequila whirled in the little space between you two. “Did my dear Mrs. Zenin have a lot of fun?”

Your mouth grew dry at the question, and you remained keen to drill your eyes into the ground.

“I...” You bit your inner cheek, remembering the tears that had rolled off embarrassingly from your face. “I...wouldn’t exactly call that fun.”

“Aw, not fun?” Naoya cooed and curled one finger around a loose lock of your hair. “Why not, darling? All because my baby’s got some booboos? What do you want me to do, hm? Want me to crawl onto my knees to kiss the bruises that another man gave?”

“N-No.”

He contemplated the answer, looking lost in thought as he twirled your tresses. “Then how far did you get with this lucky guy?”

At the confrontation, it took all your willpower to not crumble like potted soil turned dry. Wracked with humiliation, you decided to ignore the question, thinking that that was the safer option until your husband tugged your strands gently.

"Hey.” There was a spark of a raspy growl in his voice. Understandably, he was irritated, and you didn’t blame him for being impatient when he warned lowly, "Don't make me repeat myself."

You swallowed one hard lump.

“We didn’t go far at all.” A lie through your goddamn teeth. Yet, you had to say something if you ever hoped for him to let you off the hook, especially when—

“Ow!” you groaned at the forceful yank at your hair. Instinctively, your hands flew to your scalp and rubbed at where the sting burned the most. “The hell was that for?!”

“I just want you to tell me the truth,” Naoya advised coolly, which implied that he already had some idea what this ‘truth’ was. Whether or not he did, you could feel how he was dangerously toying with your strands again, ready to teach you another lesson if you disobeyed. “C’mon,” he challenged. “Test me. Who would have thought that my wife would have this much trouble being honest with—"

“We fucked over his car...”

The room went instantly silent as your words sunk in, the only sounds being your uneven breaths that were a by-product of your horror.

Did you really just say that?

Though you have yet to meet his gaze, you hated how your stomach churned with uneasiness, only exacerbated by Naoya’s overbearing presence beside you.

“Over his car?” Naoya quoted, his interest piqued. “As in, the car hood?”

For a long moment, you considered how to answer in the most diplomatic manner until your eyes slipped closed and you finally said, “...Yes.”

“And did you like it?”

“N-No.”

A gentle tug. “I can tell when you lie,” and by now, you could tell that he truly meant it. “Try me again, and I’ll—"

“I...loved it.”

You thought that Naoya Zenin finally derived the satisfaction that he wanted when his fingers ultimately loosened from your locks, only for these hopes to prove naïve when his dark chuckles rumbled from above. What started as a small snicker soon unraveled into a taunting laugh—an impassionate uproar—as your husband threw his head back, cackling wickedly into the air.

You were too absorbed in disgrace that you didn’t even notice Naoya approach you again, his right hand moving to grab your face. And when he finally forced you to turn to him, you see that his hazel eyes are ablaze with an unscrupulous sort of entertainment, tears from laughter pricking at his outer corners.

“Oh, ho ho!” he mused. His strong clutch on your jaw allowed him to revel in your distress, squandering your opportunities to look at anything else but him. “This is fucking hilarious! To think that everyone thought that Miss Prim-and-Proper over here is a good sweet girl when she’s been a slut all along.” 

Naoya chuckled as his eyes crinkled with mirth, and you squirmed uncomfortably in his hold.

Rather than humiliation, your heart began to fill with chagrin.

Why was your very husband the only person who would intentionally work up so much frustration in you?

Ironically, the timing in this realization could not be more perfect as Naoya brought his face all up in yours. 

“This wasn’t the first time, wasn’t it?”

Obviously, your first inclination is to lie, but you second guess yourself when you think back to his previous warning: I can tell when you lie.

“Not the first time,” you breathed slowly, and the rumbles in his laughter were wholly off-putting.

“So, did you spit or swallow tonight, you little whore? Well, you seem more like a spitter, you quitter. Unless...” He then covered his mouth for theatric effect. “Don’t tell me he came inside of you?!” he crowed and reveled in the glare you sent. “Bingo! He did, didn’t he? He came deep inside my wife, and I’m sure you loved that too!” At this point, Naoya was guffawing like a maniac on the ground, bent over to hug at his stomach. “I’m guessing you creamed all over his cock too! Boy, oh boy. What would your daddy say when he learns that his little girl’s been frisky? Oh, oh! Even better! What would the papers say when a little birdie informs them about your tiny secret?”

“Or about yours.”

Naoya’s laughter, which had bellowed through the penthouse just moments ago, immediately dissipated at the comment.

Your husband crawled up from the floor. He half-stumbled on his way up and met your deterministic gaze. 

This, so far, was the bravest you have ever been. Never have you dared to even think about confronting Naoya. Yet here you were now. Even if you trembled with nervousness—his frame towering many centimeters above yours—you did your best to be the one staring him down instead. 

While you expected repulsion, Naoya just stared pointedly at you.

“How did you know?”

Strangely enough, his unflappable composure was what upset you the most. He was calm and collected, so unperturbed such that he didn’t even bother to deny the accusation. Because compared to you, Naoya probably did not feel guilty in the slightest, instead viewing your awareness as nothing more than an inconvenience.

“So, the cheating rumors are true then,” you breathed, and when your husband nodded so nonchalantly, there should be no reason for you to experience a heartache that you knew wasn’t worth the pain.

Besides, you should have been prepared for this. The signs were so blatant and obvious: his ridicule, his actions, and his contempt all presages that pointed towards an underlying reason behind his behavior. For crying out loud, even your therapists, who probably never witnessed a second of interaction between you and your husband, were the first to suggest the idea of Naoya’s infidelity. 

And like a fool, you had rushed to defend your husband.

But why were you so obsessed with upholding a failed marriage when your husband could barely care to do the same? Why were you so desperate to salvage any possibility of amending the bond between husband and wife when your other half could not care for the same? The entire reason you sought sex therapy was that you valued this marriage more than anything else, hoping to forge a physical connection with your husband that lied beyond obligation.

But were you really that disillusioned? 

The shame that had churned within your chest had given way to pain as you eked out, “How long has this been going on?”

“Almost a year.”

In other words, well before he tied the knot with you.

You appreciated his honesty, but the truth did not stab any less into your heaving chest.

No wonder Naoya had always been callous, ruthless even. From day one, he never belonged to you. In this marriage, his heart, his soul, and his every waking second had always been dedicated to someone else while you foolishly clung on to hope that he would one day warm up.

“Then...why didn’t you just marry her?”

“Look,” Naoya started, only to pause as a thousand emotions flashed across his face, reaching to massage his temples before he lost total control of his temper. “Things are complicated, okay? Listing all the reasons would take an entire damn day because there’s a fucking million of them.”

“Just tell me what they are.”

“Goddamnit, woman!” Naoya shouted, thrusting his arm down in exasperation and startling you. “Since when can you order me around?! Can’t your tiny ass idiot brain tell that I’m not in the fucking mood right now to talk about this shit?”

“But you’re going to keep seeing her?”

“Yes!” and his response was so curt that there was undoubtedly no regard for your feelings in his reply. There was so much more to know, but negotiating with him for details was fruitless given his current mood.

“You’re not worried that I’ll tell someone about this?”

“Well, you won’t,” Naoya accosted with crossed arms and the most unbothered shrug. “Because you know what’s going to happen if you tattle tale, right?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

I would just tattle tale too, the glint in his eyes answered, and nothing could stop him then. The knowledge of your affair had emboldened him and provided him with justification to do the same, especially since he could now laud all this over your head like some twisted trophy.

“Look, it’s fair and square,” he justified. “We’re even now. Frankly, I don’t care and won’t care to know about your business so long as you don’t mess with mine. Do us both a favor, alright? Keep that loudmouth of yours shut, and I might just do the same. Our families spent much effort to secure this ‘picture-perfect’ relationship in Japan, so we wouldn’t them finding out about our part-time flings, now would we?”

The worst bit was how Naoya was correct.

Because you thought about your father-in-law, who would harbor no qualms about cutting you from Japan’s most affluent family for good. You also thought about Mai and Maki, the Zenin twins who would be heartbroken to learn how Naoya had been mistreating you all along when you had previously told the girls that he wasn’t. And most importantly, you thought about your father, who would resign from his position to support your decisions, no matter how grave.

If disclosed, news regarding the scandals—both yours and your husband’s—would bear headlines for weeks, and the two households would certainly then fall out from bad publicity.

As a result, there was only one answer.

“No, we wouldn’t them to know.”

“Then, you’re not going to snitch?”

“No, I won’t...” you trailed off, and—from the corner of your eye—you could see Naoya grin with victory. 

The differences between you and Naoya may be irreconcilable, yet there still existed a silent but mutual goal to not disappoint each other’s families. While the thought of being second place in Naoya’s heart could tear through your own, you staved this emptiness away by justifying this as a small price to pay, given that thousands could at most dream about being in your place.

“So, you’re a well-behaved woman after all,” Naoya hummed happily, resting one arm suggestively on your hip. “What a good wife.”

A good wife—the main reason Naobito Zenin wanted his son to marry you to begin with. As a ‘good wife,’ you were expected to love your husband, respect him, and provide for him. Real love may not ever exist in your marriage, but you were still obliged to fulfill your duties as his lawful spouse.

So, when your husband carried you into the bedroom and brought you to bed, when he stripped you carefully from your clothes and squeezed at your breasts, you willingly let him turn you into his filthy fuck toy.

“On your back,” Naoya whispered at some point, pushing your shoulders back such that you landed on the mattress with a soft thud.

His gaze darkened salaciously upon inspecting all the crescents and markings on your ass, right before he pressed his lips onto your skin just to confess how he might actually like sloppy seconds like you.

He wished to take you in missionary as usual. What surprised you, however, was how he encouraged you to keep your legs closed this time, an idea he never proposed before. With an order that resembled more like a purr, he urged you to cross your ankles, explaining that this would allow you to squeeze his cock with both your vaginal and pelvic floor muscles, which would make him come faster. And when he started working into your insides—fucking used cum back into your tight little hole—his hand grazed along your bruises, causing you to hiss and squirm.

For a guy who pounded into your skull that he had no interest in you beyond sexual, Naoya sure knew how to make you feel every bit like the stupid breeding cumslut you wanted to be. That was perfect since you believed that the only way to be useful was to let him use you as he wanted, without thought for your own satisfaction.

As long as this marriage prevailed, he was yours, and you were his.

From here, there was no way out.

Or so you thought.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: This chapter is a rollercoaster and has been incredibly difficult for me to write, largely due to the various emotions I had to convey from both Y/N and Naoya. Pissed-off Naoya is one of my favorite dialogues to write, but I also enjoyed propelling Y/N's emerging confidence in confronting her husband.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @pulchritxde-blog @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan​ @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @nemoyr @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @tokyometronetwork​ @downtown-roponggi​ @the-cosmos-network

[finnsbubblegum]

Reunited (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of car accident, mentions of loss of a child, grief, separation (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Words count: 2.4k

A/N: I feel so bad and so stupid for not putting warnings for the previous chapter. Please forgive me😭 I don't want to leave you hanging with sadness so I'm posting this now to end the depressing chapters asap. I don't know if you will like this one or not but I tried my best! Still feeling guilty about the previous chapter. I'll try my best to post fluffs for the next chapters! This is part 16 of Where It All Starts.

And also thank you for all the opinions you sent me! ❤️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Baby, you need to eat.” Joel sat beside you on the bed with a tray of your favorite food.

“I’m not hungry.” Your eyes were red and you couldn’t shed tears anymore. 

You cried for days. You mourned for days. Joel mourned too but he didn’t want you to see him look weak. He wanted to look strong so you could be strong.

“It’s my fault. Not yours. Blame me. Don’t blame yourself.” Joel wanted to take the blame. 

He needed you to blame him so he could feel better. So you could feel better. He didn’t want you to feel guilty about what happened.

“I know you probably won’t forgive me. I totally understand. But you should know that I’m more than sorry. I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.” Joel was on his knees apologizing to you.

You just stayed quiet.

“I’m dying too, baby. It should have been me. Not him.” Joel sobbed on his knees.

You started crying seeing him vulnerable in front of you.

“Leave me alone, Joel. Please.” You asked him to go away.

“Baby..” Joel begged.

“Please.” You cried.

Joel didn’t want to argue so he decided to go out of the room and give you some space alone. You stood up right away and went to pack your suitcase. You put in some of your clothes and important stuff. You couldn’t stay in your house with Joel anymore. You needed some time alone to heal and he probably needed one too. You couldn’t comfort him and he couldn’t comfort you. So you decided to move out and stayed at your parents’ for a while to breathe and heal. But of course, you didn’t talk this through with Joel. You just suddenly went out of the bedroom ready to go out with a suitcase in your hand.

“Where are you going?” Joel rose from the couch. He had been sleeping on the couch since the accident happened.

“Don’t follow me.” You walked to the door, not even looking at him.

“Please, at least tell me where you’re going. I can’t leave you alone outside this late at night.” Joel begged.

“I need some time alone.” You didn’t tell him where you were going.

“Okay, take all the time you need. But please, tell me where are you going?” He repeated the question again. 

“You don’t need to know.” You insisted.

“Baby, please. If you don’t want to be with me, then I’ll leave. You stay here.” He offered for him to go rather than leaving you alone wandering at night.

“No. I don’t want to be here. Just please let me go, Joel!” You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You sobbed as you forced open the door and ran to your car. You rushed inside your car and drove right away. Joel ran to follow you and shouted your name. You cried as you drove away. 

Days went by, weeks went by, and months went by. You had been staying with your parents and your family had been very supportive. You were grateful to have them in your life. They took care of you and you were finally able to breathe and got mentally stable. You had never seen Joel or Sarah all those months. You didn’t even call Joel. The last time you knew Sarah was in Tommy’s house and Flo was taking care of her. Flo kept you updated on how she was doing and you sometimes talked with Sarah on the phone. That was enough for you. You didn’t want Sarah to see her mother looking awful so you tried sounding like you were okay on the phone. You told her that you and Joel were on a business trip and the two of you will not be back anytime soon. So you told her to be patient. You always cried each time after you called Sarah. She always asked about you and Joel and how she missed you. Most of the time Sarah cried on the phone and your heart broke. Tommy sometimes slipped in some news about Joel. He sounded bad. But you knew you and Joel needed space.

Every night when you closed your eyes, it all happened again. Joel yelling at you, you were crying, the car moving so fast, the sudden stop of the car, and then bam. 

You loved Joel. You couldn’t live without him. And he loved you too. He couldn’t live without you too. Both of you were soulmates. You wanted to forgive him so you were trying your best to find reasons to forgive him. You listed all of his kindness and everything you wrote was his good deeds. The only thing that hurt you was that accident. Why should you hate someone for only one wrong thing when he did more good to you? 

“Honey?” Your mom knocked on your door.

“Come in.” You closed your notebook.

“Tommy’s here.” Your mom slowly walked inside your bedroom.

“Tommy?” You tilted your head.

“Yes, he brought Sarah.” Your mom awkwardly added more information to you.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

You weren’t ready to meet Sarah yet. Tommy was crossing the line. 

“I can’t see her. I’m not ready.” You shook your head. 

“She’s playing with your dad. But I think Tommy has something important to tell you.” Your mom put her hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear anything, mom.” You insisted.

“Honey, please. Just hear him out.” Your mom suddenly called Tommy inside.

“Tommy, come inside.” 

“Hey..” Tommy put his hand in his pockets as he walked slowly inside your bedroom.

“Sit here.” Your mom patted the empty space on your bed.

“How are you doing?” Tomy started a conversation.

“I’ve been better.” You replied coldly.

“Okay, I’m just gonna go straight to the point now.” Tommy sighed.

“We’ve checked the CCTV.” 

“What about it?” You raised your head as you heard Tommy say that.

“It’s the other guy’s fault. He hit your car. Joel drove on green light. Not red.” Tommy explained.

You cried as you heard that. You remembered it but you lied to yourself because you needed someone to blame. Now, you felt guilty for blaming Joel when you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You need to see Joel, (y/n). He’s not doing well without you. He’s been caging himself inside the house. Sarah’s been crying asking for her mom and dad, that's why I brought her here. I hope you’re not mad at me.” He put his hand behind his neck.

You couldn’t speak. You cried. Hyperventilating. Your mom moved closer and rubbed your back. Her tears fell down her cheeks seeing her daughter like this. Tommy left the bedroom to give you and your mom some space. 

“I remember it, mom. I know it wasn’t his fault. I was just looking for someone to blame.” You sobbed at your mom’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, honey.” Your mom patted your back.

“How can I see him, mom?” 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Both of you were hurting and I’m sure you will forgive each other.” Your mom comforted you.

After you cried your heart out, you and your mom went to the living room to see Sarah. 

“Mommy!” Sarah ran to hug your legs.

“Hi, sweetie. I missed you.” You crouched and hugged her.

“I missed you so so much! Where’s daddy?” She asked with innocence.

“He’s busy. You’ll meet him soon.” You stroked her head and smiled.

“Can I sleep with grandpa tonight, please, please, please?” Sarah begged.

Her grandpa spoiled her too much because he loved having girls. 

“Of course.” You chuckled.

“Yay!” She ran to her grandpa’s arms. 

“Okay, I think I’ll leave now.” Tommy waved his hand and walked his way out.

“Tommy, wait!” You followed him.

“Yeah?” He turned his head to you.

“Can you drop me to Joel’s?” You asked him to drive you.

“You sure?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.” You nodded.

Tommy drove you back to your house. He offered to wait for you until Joel opened the door but you insisted for him to leave. So he left.

*knock on the door*

You knocked a few times and Joel hadn’t come out yet. You knocked again and again. Joel groaned as he got up from the couch. He had been drinking alcohol since you left him and slept on the couch. He didn’t want to sleep on the bed because it would remind him of you. After a few more knocks, he finally opened the door.

"Hey.." You tried to smile at him.

Joel looked awful. His hair was messy, beard was also messy. He had always had messy hair and beard but this time was messier. He got dark circles and he seemed like he had lost a lot of weight just like you. 

"How-Everything all right?" The first thing that was on his mind was your condition. 

"I-I'm okay. You okay?" You knew you weren't fully okay and he was absolutely not okay but you needed to ask. 

"I-uh-" He couldn't say anything.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course." He opened the door wider for you to come in.

Joel rushed to hide every trash on the tables and floors. He didn't expect you to come so he didn't have the time to tidy. It was like he was expecting a guest when you were actually his wife. In fact you lived there for a few years just until a few months ago. 

"Have you been drinking?" You scrunched your nose at the alcohol smell around the house.

Joel cleared his throat. He was embarrassed that you saw him in this condition.  

"You lost a lot of weight." You looked at him up and down.

“Did you even eat?” You asked him.

Then you walked to the fridge and checked inside. Nothing. Just alcohol. 

"Joel.." Tears welled up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry." The two of you said it at the same time. 

"No, baby. I'm sorry." Joel said.

"No, Joel. I'm sorry." You cried as you closed the fridge.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You breathed out.

“No, it’s my fault.” Joel kept blaming himself.

“No, Tommy told me. He saw the CCTV. You drove on green light. Not red. And I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence.

Joel looked at you and tears fell down his cheeks. He was relieved to hear the news. He remembered he pressed the gas pedal on green light but he thought he was hallucinating. 

“I’m sorry I blamed you. I was just-I needed someone to blame.” You sobbed. 

“It’s okay. I needed someone to blame too.” Joel walked closer to you to hug you.

“I will never forget this pain, Joel. It will always be here. But I know we have to move on. But I can’t do it without you.” You put your hand on your hurting chest.

“I know. Me too. Our baby will always be in our hearts. And I can’t do it without you either.” He nodded as tears fell down his cheeks.

You buried your face right away to his chest and he hugged you so tight. He placed his hand on your back and another on the back of your head caressing your hair. His chin resting on top of your head while your arms hugged him tight, pressing your body to his. You and Joel missed each other so much. The two of you had been away from each other for too long. 

“I missed you, Joel.” You mumbled in his chest.

“I missed you, too. I can't live without you, baby.” Joel kissed your head.

“I love you.” You pulled your head away from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“I love you more.” His tears fell down then he kissed you.

“I’m sorry I left.” You rested your forehead to his as you apologized.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is now you’re here.” He gave you another peck then hugged you again.

“I’m never letting you go from now on.” He hugged you tight.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You swayed him a little bit. 

*stomach growling*

“Not me.” You chuckled.

You raised your head to look at him, hands still around his waist.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” You chuckled as you looked at his embarrassed face.

“Yeah.” Joel chuckled.

It was late at night and most of the stores were closed so you and Joel drove to the nearest McDonalds and ordered a drive-thru. You and Joel bought burgers, fries, chicken nuggets and of course ice cream. Joel looked like he had starved for years so you made sure he ate a lot. Then you asked Joel to drive you to the hill, his favorite place in the city. 

“It feels good to be back here.” You took off your seatbelt and passed him his burger.

“Good memories are made here.” Joel took a bite.

“Hmm.” He sighed and closed his eyes as he chewed on the burger.

“It tastes so good.” Joel chuckled and bit another big one.

“Slow down, mister. I know you have been starving yourself for months but you need to slow down or you’ll choke.” You chuckled.

“Just realized I’m starving now.” He chuckled. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” He extended his right hand to cup your cheeks.

“Me too.” You smiled and caressed his hand.

“Eww Joel! Your hand is greasy!” You grabbed a tissue and wiped your cheek.

Joel’s hand was greasy from the burgers and fries and he just held your cheeks with it. Joel chuckled. 

“Oh! Payback time!” You took some french fries and wiped them on his face. 

“That’s fair.” Joel scrunched his nose and closed his eyes while he giggled. 

You giggled then you took a tissue to clean his face and beard. 

“I love you.” You leaned in closer to his lips as you wiped his face.

“I love you too.” Joel kissed you with his greasy lips.

You smiled and kissed him back ignoring the greasy lips. The two of you finally reunited and be each other’s shoulder to cry on. Your bond with him grew stronger because you were each other's purpose in life.

To be continued… 

Taglist:

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[viridianstarlight]

Do you know who you are?

To the world these days, or at least my generation and younger, personal identity matters a whole lot to people.And to these same people, your identity can be whatever you want it to be.

You are identified by your gender, and they say your gender can be whatever you want on any day.

You are identified by your sexuality and relationship status.

You are identified by the colour of your skin.

You are identified by your job.

There’s more, but I think you get the idea.

So in the eyes of these people, I am male, straight and single, white, and a cafe worker. But I don’t really think that describes ‘Cory’.

But we Christians have a different view of identity. Here’s what the Bible says about who we are.

Psalm 139: 15-16 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

To start with, God knows exactly who you are. He knows everything there is to know about you. So if anyone can show you who you are, it is God.

1 John 3: 1 See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.

We are called God’s children. We are adopted in to the King’s family.

Romans 8:16-18 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

By being adopted in to the King’s family, we are made co-heirs with Christ, sharing in His sufferings and glory.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the Lord says— He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

We belong to God.

Romans 6:6 This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.

Thanks to Christ’s death and resurrection, our faith in Him clothes us in His righteousness and redeems us of our sins. God looks upon us and sees the perfection of Christ.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

God is perfect, and so is everything He creates. God does not make mistakes. You are His masterpiece, the crowning reflection of His perfect creativity.

1 Corinthians 6:19 Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?

Your body is a holy space where God dwells.

Ephesians 1: 4 Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes. 

God created the world in the first chapter of Genesis, and even before then, He knew you perfectly and has loved you perfectly since then.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

You belong as part of something greater than yourself, and you cannot function to your greatest potential separate to the body.

You were created to do things that other parts of the body cannot do, and you were created to benefit the body just as other parts were created to benefit you.

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

You are a royal priest of the King. In the old testament, only the high priests could enter the holy of holies within God’s temple. But we, belonging totally to God and being chosen by Him, can enter the presence of God at any time.

And this is all thanks to Christ leaving heaven to become a man, taking our sin to the cross and dying in our place, taking our judgement, and in return sharing His righteousness with us.

Do you know who you are? God does.

[ckret2]

Chapter 19 of Human Bill Is The Shack's Prisoner But They Haven't Told Anybody Yet (title tbd), featuring: Wendy!!! Who hasn't been told yet! But she sure as heck knows something is going on.

also featuring: Bill wrangling Mabel into a secret plot against her better judgment; guest appearances from Soos, Melody, Thompson, and baby dragons; and digging into what Wendy's got going on under the "cool girl" facade.

####

Sitting on the attic bench, Mabel said, "Okay, here's an abstract one."

Lying spread eagle on the floor staring at the ceiling, Bill said, "Hit me."

"A president, an astronaut, and a movie star."

Bill paused. Bill looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. Bill said, "Which president?"

"Your favorite."

Without hesitation, Bill said, "Bury the astronaut, bed the—"

"Stop doing it wrong!"

Bill sighed noisily. "Betray the astronaut, befriend the movie star, and betroth the president."

"Really? You never marry politicians over artists."

Bill hesitated. "I don't?"

"Which president are you thinking of."

"I'm not playing anymore."

"Bill. Which president—"

"I quit. I'm bored now."

"Give me a hint," Mabel insisted. "Is he on a dollar bill—"

Bill sat up and pointed out the attic window. "Oh wow, what's that!"

Mabel's head whipped around to look.

"It's a change of topic!"

Mabel whipped back to glare at Bill. 

"No—no, I'm serious, don't give me that look." Bill lowered his voice. "I've actually been meaning to bring this up. It's something I need your help with."

Mabel gave him a skeptical look—behold the coward, trying to weasel out of admitting which president he clearly had a crush on—but said, "What is it?"

Bill glanced around. "Not out here. Anyone could listen in. Somewhere private."

Mabel pointed out the window. "But Candy's mom's about to pick me up..."

Bill stood up and peered out into the early nighttime dark. "Not for at least fifteen minutes, she isn't. I'll be quick. Come on."

"You're acting really suspicious."

"No, I'm acting secretive. You're the suspicious one. When have I ever given you any reason to be suspicious of me?"

Mabel raised a brow.

"Point taken. When have I given you any reason to be suspicious of me this year?"

Mabel raised the other brow.

"Any reason this week."

"You have had a good week," Mabel conceded. "Fine, but I'm not taking you somewhere private without taking precautions."

"Fine," Bill said. "What precautions?"

####

He looked in dismay at the sock gloves tied onto his hands with yarn. "You couldn't have at least given me the colorful socks?"

"Sorry! Dipper's socks are thicker than mine and all he has are white. I'm not taking any chances."

"You hate me."

Mabel shut the bedroom door. "Okay!" She sat on her bed. "So tell me what it is you want."

"Okay," Bill said.

He told her.

When he was done, she studied him with a thoughtful frown.

"What? I thought you'd love the idea!"

"I do," Mabel conceded. "The problem is all the other things you could do once you get your hands on it."

"From inside this shack? Not a lot."

"Mmm... It is a great idea..." Mabel screwed her face up. "I'll think about it."

"For how long?

"Give me a day."

"We don't have a day to spare. We're working in a very narrow timeframe if we want to pull this off."

"And whose fault is that?" Mabel planted her hands on her hips. "You pushed this on me at the last minute so I couldn't think it over!"

"I did not," Bill said, affronted. "I only thought of it myself a couple hours ago. Do you think I'd have wanted to do this last minute if I'd thought of it any sooner?"

Mabel wouldn't put it past him, if he thought the pressure would make her more likely to agree. "I'll consider it."

"For how long? Look, kid—it's a great idea, you know it's a great idea, but the longer we take to get started the less likely it'll happen, and if you don't do your half I can't do my half, and then the whole thing's ruined—"

"Hey!" Mabel pointed at Bill. "I said��I'll consider it! If you try to make me answer before Candy's mom gets here, it's gonna be no."

"Okay, okay!" He raised his socked hands. "So, what—by morning?"

Mabel thought, then nodded. "Okay. I'll decide by the time I'm back from Candy's."

Bill cracked a wide smile. "I know you won't let me down." He glanced out the window. "And good timing; your ride should be here in..."

He trailed off. Mabel had put her glass pyramid from Ford in the window so it could catch the sunlight, and Bill was completely focused on it. "Hey, where'd you get that?"

Mabel looked at the pyramid. "Oh, that? Grunkle Ford gave that to me."

"He did?" Bill looked at her with undisguised shock. "What for?"

This was it. This was Mabel's opportunity. The moment she'd prepared for. With a casual shrug, she said, "To commemorate my initiation."

Bill's eyes widened further. "Your initiation?"

"Uh-huh. Into the Mysteries."

"Into the MYSTERIES?" If Bill's eyes got any bigger, they'd fall out of his skull. "Hold on a second! Did Stanford join a mystery cult? And he didn't tell me? Which one! Is it about me?"

Mabel tipped her head back. "I'm sorry, Bill, but I don't think you've been initiated into the Mysteries. I can't tell you what they're about."

"It's about me," Bill insisted. "It's got to be about me, why else would it involve..." He flailed one socked hand at the pyramid.

Out the window, Mabel glimpsed headlights sweeping by below. Perfect timing. "Sorry, Bill, that's my ride!" She put on her sleepover backpack, scooped up a doll—Allie-Ann the Alien could come this time—and tried to shove Bill toward the door. "Move. I'm not leaving you in here unsupervised."

As Bill was pushed, he twisted around to stare in wonder at the pyramid. He tripped over a pile of Dipper's dirty clothes and stumbled shoulder first into the wall. "Ow. At least give me a hint! Where did the Mysteries originate? Are we talking the original Greek stuff? Fishmasons? Cheap knock-off Cabala? Real Kabbalah? I've been expecting Sixer to get into that for years. It can't be, I didn't have anything to do with Kabbalah—"

"Who said the Mysteries have anything to do with you!"

"But the pyramid—!"

Mabel got Bill out of the bedroom with one last big shove and slammed the door. He stumbled over his feet and almost hit the wall again before righting himself. Mabel jogged past him to the stairs. "Bye, Bill!"

"Kemetism," Bill tried. "I'll be so disappointed in Ford. At least tell me it isn't Kemetism!"

"See you tomorrow!"

Bill groaned. "Hey! Remember what we talked about!"

The door slammed.

Bill dragged his hands down his face. His fluffy hands. Right. He'd forgotten to ask her to free him. 

He looked at one of his hands suspiciously. "It's not Kemetism, right?" he asked it. "You wouldn't do that to me."

He manipulated the sock into a hand puppet, deepened his voice, and said, "Of course I wouldn't, Bill. You taught me to have better taste than that." Gah, terrible impression. He sounded more like Stan than Ford.

Bill could go downstairs and pester one of the humans into freeing him from his sock gloves; or, he could figure it out himself, in case they tried to restrain him like this again.

Bill sat on the floor and started chewing through the yarn.

####

Wendy's parents looked at the forest differently.

They both had a tendency to go still and quiet when they were surrounded by trees, but that was where the similarity ended. Her father looked at the forest with Knowing, and her mother looked with Seeking.

Her father was a lumberjack. Her father was a Corduroy. He stood in the forest like he was a tree himself: still, tall, skin rough like bark, rooted to the spot by six generations. Wendy didn't know why "family trees" were illustrated as branches and leaves. They were root systems; your ancestors were buried deep below your feet, and their bony grips on your ankles slowly pulled you down into the dirt too.

Her father looked at the trees like he already knew every secret they held—every ancient lightning scar, every squirrel love affair, every bird with too many eyes and every eye in search of a bird. If you asked him where the Hide Behind was, he'd point at a tree without hesitation, and then he'd tell you to stop staring.

That was the thing with him: stop staring. He knew everything about the forest, except the things he didn't, and the things he didn't know he didn't want to know—and he didn't want his children to know them, either.

When her mother stood in the woods, eyes upturned, quaking like an aspen, she was like a pilgrim in a cathedral, standing weary and rapturous in the nave and gazing up at the stained glass windows. In later years, she'd seemed like a pilgrim who'd just realized she'd walked into the wrong god's church.

Aspens weren't native to Gravity Falls. You found them around Portland.

Her mother always wanted to know more. She talked about things her husband didn't and asked about things he wouldn't. But Wendy didn't think she was ever happy with the things she found out.

One of Wendy's last memories of her mother was of seeing her standing on the overgrown path to the old, abandoned Corduroy family cabin in the woods. Staring at it like it terrified her, but like she had some question she couldn't leave without asking it.

Her father, knowing what he knew and refusing to seek more; her mother, always seeking but never comfortable knowing; and Wendy was somewhere in between.

Wendy had worked in the Mystery Shack long enough that she knew where its occupants were, the way she knew where her heart and lungs were. When there weren't tourists, she could hear the pipes in the morning and know Mabel was showering upstairs—it was always Mabel, everyone else in the shack either showered before Wendy arrived for work or after she'd left for the day—and she could hear the TV through the "Employees Only" door and know from the cadence of the muffled murmurs whether it was playing an English or Spanish station; and she knew when somebody was cooking and could tell who it was based on the smell; and through the floor boards she could hear the washing machine in the cellar, but she could predict when laundry day was coming two days ahead of time because Soos had run out of white dress shirts and switched to blue.

She did the same thing at home. From her room, she was always aware of where her brothers and her father were supposed to be—there was a little hole in her awareness where she felt like her mother should have been—and each thud and smell and footstep and shut door confirmed her instincts. She wondered if she got that awareness from her mother or her father.

From her post behind the cash register, she was quietly, casually aware of where everyone should be. And when something was wrong, she knew.

####

Mabel came into the shack through the gift shop entrance, wearing her sleepover backpack and carrying a stuffed doll under her arm. "Hey Wendy!"

"Hey, Mabel." Wendy glanced at the ceiling under the upstairs bathroom. She could still hear the pipes running to the shower. Huh. Maybe Dipper decided he didn't want to stink this summer. "What's up?"

"Not much, not much." Mabel heaved herself up to sit on the counter next to the cash register and set her alien doll beside her. "So. Wendy. Home girl. I need a little help, and I hear you're the gal to help me."

"Oh, yeah?" Wendy propped her chin in her hand. "What kind of help?"

"You have a fake ID, right?"

A surprised smile crept across Wendy's face. "Yeah? Why?"

"The gas station cashier knows my family too well for me to use mine."

Wendy laughed. "Okay, you know what? I'm in, just to find out what a thirteen-year-old needs a fake ID for. I can't do drinks, but anything you need to be eighteen for, I've got you covered."

"Awesome! I'll see you after work?"

"How about my lunch break? Thompson's picking me up to go get something." Since the start of summer, Soos had asked Wendy not to keep her lunch in the kitchen fridge anymore. He said it was because between his own household and the visiting Pines, there wasn't any extra space. It was too crowded. "Too crowded" was the same reason he'd also asked Wendy not to eat in the kitchen, or use the indoor toilet, or spend her break in the living room. Wendy had her doubts. "We could get lunch at the convenience store instead of a drive-thru."

"Even better! Thanks, Wendy! I'll see you at lunch!" Mabel waved as she ran to the living room.

Upstairs, the shower turned off.

Wendy stared at the ceiling. Huh.

####

When Soos escorted the first tour group of the day into the gift shop, Wendy greeted him by bursting out laughing. "Your suit."

For almost two weeks now, Soos had been conducting his tours in a slightly-too-tight, slightly-too-short suit jacket Wendy would bet he'd had since high school. He hadn't said anything about it, but Wendy figured something had happened to his normal coat on the night he and the Pines had been dealing with that thing they refused to talk about.

But today, he finally had his usual, properly-fitted jacket back on; but the sloppy repairs done to the huge gashes in the back stood out like a sore thumb. "Man, you never told me your paranormal problem did this much damage."

Soos winced. "Is it that bad?"

"Dude." Wendy laughed. "The back of your jacket is shredded. It looks like you escaped a horror movie." She paused. "Uh—the repairs aren't bad though! They look great. You did a great job."

"Thanks, but it's okay. I'm gonna work it into the show. I'm telling the tourists a mama dragon almost killed me."

Wendy's eyes lit up. "Did you finish the baby dragons?"

Soos glanced around to make sure none of the shopping tourists were listening too close, then picked up a cardboard box. "Boom. Check 'em." It was full of live lizards with rubber bat wings attached with alien superglue. "Awesome, right? I'm gonna set up a terrarium for them in the museum. I'm putting in some red Easter eggs like they just hatched."

"This is gonna blow the tourists' minds." Wendy fished around under the cash register for a bag of chips and dropped a couple in for the lizards. "So... what was going on here a couple weeks ago? You never told me."

"Um." Soos immediately lost the ability to meet Wendy's gaze. "Well. It's—it's complicated."

"What, is it still a secret? I figured it was over by now," Wendy said. "It wasn't actually a dragon, was it?"

"No."

"Then what, a werewolf?"

"No... I really can't—"

"A ghost?"

Soos paused. "Define 'ghost.'"

"Uh... any kind of dead person."

Soos squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of the interrogation. "Does it count if the person should be dead, but, for some reason, is not?"

"Did we have another zombie uprising?"

"Not exac—"

A muffled voice shouted, "Hey!"

Something above the shop thudded. Wendy saw a light flicker. Wordlessly, she and Soos looked up.

"HEY! This isn't what we agreed to!" The thudding traveled across the ceiling, meandering through the gift shop. A few tourists gasping in alarm as the lights swayed over their heads. "If you think you can keep me locked up in here, you'll regret it! Let! Me! OUT!"

Everyone in the gift shop—Soos, Wendy, and a dozen tourists—fell completely silent, looking up. The ceiling creaked and rattled above them one final time before falling silent.

Soos swallowed hard. He let out a strained laugh. "Whoops, heh. Guess you guys found out what happens to tourists who don't buy anything. Am I right?"

The tourists laughed.

"Ha! Yeah, you guys get it! Wendy, hold down the fort a minute, I've gotta... check on something I forgot to deal with. Um. With the... spooky sound effects."

He rushed through the "Employees Only" door.

####

When Soos cracked opened the bathroom door, Bill's face was inches away, wet wavy hair dangling all over his face, irritated red eyes glowering straight into Soos's.

Soos flinched. "Dude. You jumpscared me."

"Nice of you to finally free me from the bathroom." Bill elbowed past Soos.

Soos rubbed his stomach where Bill had shoved him. "Hey, Bill—I know getting stuck stinks, but uh.... if you shout like that, the tourists could find out about you, you know? And you don't want that."

Bill whirled around. "Correction: if you don't keep your promise to let me move freely around the shack, you cause the tourists to find out about me, and you don't want that! We both know you'd never give me any rights if I didn't make the alternative worse for you—so if you don't want to risk getting arrested for kidnapping, don't put me in a position where I have to make things worse."

Soos patiently waited for Bill to finish spinning the narrative in his favor. "Okay," he said, "granted. But I just sort of accidentally didn't tell someone else to listen for you while I was giving a tour." Soos spread his hands in what he hoped was a conciliatory gesture. "Perhaps, in the future, you could make spooky ghost noises to remind me you're up here, so I can go 'Oh no, I forgot the triangle guy is taking a shower' without the tourists suspecting anything, instead of escalating straight to self-endangerment? That—that seems mutually beneficial, right?"

Bill considered that. He screwed up his face. He said, "Sure! Fine. That's fair." His voice was a lot more chipper than his sour expression. Soos wondered if Bill was aware that his face gave stuff away. "Next time I should just get Stanford to supervise. He'd say I have an hour and he'd be back in sixty minutes and zero seconds."

"Yeah, I don't think Ford wants to do that. Lately he's kind of busy with the whole figuring-out-how-to-kill-you thing."

"And I don't want to shower. Nobody is happy." Bill turned away from Soos. "Is Mabel home yet?"

"Uh, I think I saw her in the kitchen—"

And just like that, Bill lost interest in anything Soos had to say. He drifted down the stairs, stumbled on a couple of steps, and was gone.

####

Soos returned to the gift shop. "Thanks, Wendy."

Wendy dragged her gaze down from the ceiling. "Sure, no problem." She opened her mouth to ask what all that had been about; then decided she didn't need to hear again that she couldn't be told anything about whatever was going on here. But something was going on.

Whenever a customer wasn't checking out, Wendy listened to every creak and sigh of the wood, the way her mother once listened to the wind rustling in the birch trees. There were so many more thuds and thumps in the shack than there used to be; she'd noticed it for days. From her post behind the cash register, she was quietly, casually aware of where everyone should be. And when something was wrong, she knew.

There was something wrong in the Mystery Shack.

Time to start seeking.

####

Mabel trotted out of the gift shop in a dark blue sweater with an old-fashioned Polaroid camera knitted on the front. The camera lens was a piece of reflective plastic that looked like it had been popped out of a pair of sunglasses. She was also wearing a pair of cheap plastic reflective sunglasses with one lens missing, so Wendy didn't think there was much mystery about how Mabel had made this sweater. Mabel plopped down on the steps outside the shop beside Wendy to wait for Thompson's arrival.

"Okay," Wendy said, "I've gotta ask. How did you know about my fake ID?"

"Robbie said Tambry told him!"

"Oh, you guys are hanging with Robbie?" Wendy wondered if he and Tambry were back together again. She should ask Lee; he'd be the most likely person to know who it wouldn't be awkward to ask.

"A little. He's working on a music video that he wants creepy synchronized twins for, so he asked me and Dipper. We met up to talk about the details."

"Oh dude, he mentioned he was working on some kind of spooky song. Something about the 'ghost of childhood'?"

"That's the one! We're the childhood ghosts."

"Awesome. Let me know how it goes."

Mabel gave her a thumbs up. "Okay, I answered your question, now you have to answer one!" Her voice dropped to a faux whisper. "Why do you have a fake ID? Is it so that you can work at a casino across the border where you rendezvous with a handsome foreign spy?"

Wendy laughed. "What? No." She looked around. "I'll tell you, but you can't tell anybody else. Except Dipper I guess, he's cool."

"Promise!"

Wendy took off her flannel shirt, tugged her hair over her shoulder, pushed aside her undershirt to expose her right shoulder blade, and turned her back toward Mabel. "Check it out."

"Whoa! Tattoo!" Mabel poked the bag of ice tattooed on Wendy's shoulder.

"Yeah, I got inked in February. I think it's cool. Like, it's a weird tat, right? Who gets a tattoo of a bag of ice? But if you know, you know. That makes it personal." Wendy pulled her shirt back on and buttoned it up. "Plus, in like five years, I'll probably be dating someone who goes—" she put on a false high voice, "'Hey Wendy, why did you get this tattoo?' And I can go," Wendy squinted off toward the distant trees and adopted a faraway voice, "'It's a long story. About the greatest fight of my life. When the world... nearly ended.' All serious. But then it's still a dumb bag of ice."

"That's such a cool idea. We should all get matching tattoos!" Mabel pulled up her sweater sleeve, showing off her rainbow rock bracelet. "What if I get it on my wrist! So that the tail of the shooting star wraps around it like a bracelet! Do they have glitter tattoos?"

Wendy chuckled. "I don't know, but that sounds awesome. But you guys are gonna have to wait like, five years to get yours. Ooor, get a fake ID that says you're eighteen." She winked. "Robbie's talking about getting one too. He wants it on his chest, over his actual heart. I'm still waiting for a really funny time to be like, 'Oh, you haven't done it yet? I already got one.'" Mabel laughed.

Thompson pulled up, and they piled into his minivan.

####

Wendy wasn't quite sure what she'd expected Mabel to need an 18-year-old's assistance for (her best guess had been helping Stan commit voter fraud), but nowhere on her list had she considered—

"Scratch cards," Mabel said to the cashier. She would have looked like a real slick customer, with her serious expression and reflective shades, if one of the lenses hadn't been missing. She was a 50% slick customer. "I'm gonna need to see, uhhh..." She pointed at three of the scratch cards on display behind the cashier. Their art displayed a purple unicorn, a diamond-encrusted tiara, and a neon beach party. "All of these!"

The cashier gave Mabel a skeptical look. "How old are you, again?"

Wendy leaned on the counter beside Mabel and quickly said, "She's with me! I'm buying." She slid her fake ID across the counter to the cashier. "Mabel's just my... uh... helper?"

"Psychic helper!" Mabel said.

"Psychic helper," Wendy agreed.

"Yeah, I can tell which cards are gonna be winners," Mabel said. 

The cashier looked between them, looked at Wendy's ID, and shrugged. "Okay," he said. "You said you wanna get... all of these?"

Wendy went quiet, trying to figure out how much that would cost. "Um."

"No no no!" Mabel waved her hand. "I just wanna see them all. You know. For psychic purposes."

"I can't hand customers cards they haven't paid for. You might start scratchin' 'em."

"That's fine! Can you just... hold all of them up? One at a time? So I can get a really good look at each of them?"

The cashier stared at Mabel, then gave Wendy a weary look.

Wendy smiled nervously. She regretted not asking Mabel what she was planning. "Please? It'd be really cool of you," she said. "Also, I'll leave you a tip." She only had like fifteen dollars. She hoped she could cobble together a decent lunch cheap enough to afford leaving a tip.

The cashier sighed heavily and grabbed the unicorn scratch cards first.

While the cashier showed Mabel every card in all three of her chosen categories one by one, Wendy and Thompson circled the convenience store, prowling for food. Wendy grabbed a cereal bar, a protein bar, a couple flavors of jerky, a bottle of milk—added together that had to be, like, four and a half food groups, right?—and drifted over to the ice cream. "Oh, dude. Check this out, they're selling Summerween ice cream." She pulled out a pint and waved it at Thompson, showing off the jack-o'-melons on the packaging. "I thought Summerween was only celebrated around here. Is Doug & Jimmy's a local brand?" She didn't think she'd ever heard of the brand before. She studied the packaging, but only learned that all proceeds went to an (unnamed) charity.

"I don't recognize it. What flavor is it?" Thompson asked.

"Watermelon sorbet." The only other two Doug & Jimmy's flavors on the shelves were marionberry and huckleberry, which was about as stereotypically Oregonian as you could get. Maybe they were local.

"Aw, I don't like sorbet."

"Hey, Thompson! Buy me this pint, I'll pay you back later."

"What! Why don't you pay for it?"

"I've gotta use the last of my money to tip the cashier." She hoped Mabel had brought her own money to pay for the scratch cards. Wendy doubted she could pester Thompson into that. "C'mon, man, it's only like four bucks. I get my paycheck this afternoon, I'll pay you back." She shook the sorbet in his face. "And it's for charity. Are you gonna notdonate to charity?" She gave him an impish grin.

Thompson sighed, but held out his hand for the ice cream.

There were piles upon piles of unicorn-ed, tiara-ed, beachy scratch cards on the front counter when Wendy and Thompson came up with their purchases. The cashier said to Mabel, "So, that's all of them. Which do you wanna buy?"

"Hmm." Mabel put her hand to her chin, making a show of looking thoughtful. "I think... I'm gonna have to sleep on it and come back in the morning. I'll let you know then."

The cashier stared at Mabel in disbelief. The cashier stared at Wendy in disbelief.

Wendy grimaced. "Sorry, man. She's got this... process?"

"I've got a process," Mabel agreed, nodding firmly.

Wendy shrugged. "Psychics, you know?"

The cashier sighed heavily and shoved the scratch cards aside to scan their food.

Back in the van, Mabel watched as the convenience store disappeared behind them; then, laughing, reached into a hidden pocket in her sweater behind the knit camera, pulled out her cell phone, and stopped the video recording.

Wendy glanced back, did a double take, swallowed her mouthful of jerky, and said—with no small amount of awe—"Did you hide a camera inside a picture of a camera?"

"Yeah!" She pointed at the sunglass lens. "It sees through this like a one-way mirror."

"That's the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"I thought of it myself!" She played back through the video, rewatching to make sure she'd gotten reasonably clear shots of all the scratch cards.

"Why were you recording in there, though?"

"So I can show all the scratch cards to a real psychic!" Mabel stuck her phone in her skirt pocket and beamed at Wendy.

How much did Wendy believe that? Considering this was Gravity Falls, she figured the odds Mabel had turned up a real psychic were about 50/50. "Who is it? Anybody I know?"

Mabel was silent long enough for Wendy to turn and give her a questioning look. Mabel smiled winningly and said, "It's a secret!"

Wendy shrugged like it didn't matter. "All right, sure." There were a lot of secrets in the Mystery Shack these days.

####

"Omigosh are these baby dragons!" Mabel squealed. Several tourists turned to look at her.

Melody laughed. "Yeah! Soos 'hatched' them this morning." Out of sight of the tourists, she winked for Mabel's benefit. "He's gonna set up a terrarium for them this weekend, but for now they live in the shop." She saw Wendy coming and relinquished the cash register to her. "Hey, Wendy. How was lunch?"

"Hey Mel." She took back her seat. "Gas station junk. I found this, though." She held up her pint of half-eaten, half-melted Summerween watermelon sorbet.

"Oh, that's so cute! I've never seen that before, do they do that every year?"

"Dunno, first time I've seen it. I think the brand's new, they only have like three flavors."

"This'll only be my second Summerween," Melody confessed. "Last year, nobody warned me about it. I thought I was going crazy when I saw a bunch of kids running around in Halloween costumes in June. Some guy in a scarecrow costume knocked on my door and tried to scold me for not having any 'Summerween spirit' when I didn't have any candy. He calmed down when I told him his costume was awesome and asked if he'd explain the holiday to me. I think I gave him a bag of sour snakes? It was the only candy I had on hand."

"You really dodged a bullet," Mabel said.

"Oh yeah," Wendy said. "You're from Portland, right?"

"Yeah," Melody sighed. "There's nothing awesome like Summerween there."

Wendy wondered, not for the first time, how Melody could voluntarily move from Portland out to Gravity Falls. The local quirky holidays weren't that alluring. Anyway, everything Wendy had heard about Portland suggested it was the kind of city that would love to adopt something weird like Summerween.

Mabel said, "this is Dipper's and my second year too. Summerween sophomores!"

"Summerween sophomores!" Melody laughed. "This year, I'm going all out. I promised not to spoil the details, but Soos and I are doing a couple's cosplay, it's gonna be great."

"That'll be awesome! Hey, can you mention that in front of Dipper? We haven't made plans yet, and I'm worried he'll try to flake out on doing a twin costume with me this year. Maybe he'll be more interested if he knows some adults are doing it!"

"Ha! Yeah, I'll let him know."

"Oh, hey, Melody," Wendy said. "You're going in the house, right? Could I ask a small favor?" She held out the sorbet. "I know Soos doesn't want me using the fridge but, would you mind sticking this in the freezer just until the end of my shift? I don't wanna stick it in the cooler out here, I'm worried a tourist will walk off with it."

"Oh. Sure, no problem." Melody took the pint. "You leave at like three on Fridays, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks!"

####

Three came and went, and Wendy went as well.

She didn't pick up her sorbet—exactly like she'd planned.

####

(Thanks for reading! Please toss me a comment if you enjoyed, I love hearing y'all's thoughts and I'm excited we're finally getting to Wendy snooping around!)

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 20

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff, angsty, mentions of anxiety and break up, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 1.9k

part. 19 | series masterlist | part 21 | taglist

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

A/n: Thank you so so much for all the love and support! I see you, and I appreciate you! *mwah* I hope you guys like this chapter! Don't forget to reblog and let me know your thoughts <3

“Hey, Mase,” Yn smiled when she spotted the brown-haired Brit on the farthest table. Her stomach did a little somersault, and her heart got confused between beating faster or keeping the usual pace. 

Mason was right in front of her, wearing a white shirt and his biggest grin, the same he used to wear when they first became friends. Yn watched how he fiddled with his sunglasses and smiled wider. He, too, was a bit nervous about this conversation. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” she said before sitting down in front of him.

“We both deserve closure,” Mason stated, and Yn nodded.

She grabbed her phone, typing away a message to tell Mick she got there safely, and when she put down the device, she saw Mason eyeing the whole scene. 

“Does he make you happy?” he asked, no harm or hidden hatred behind his question and Yn knew it because his features seemed relaxed, a small tug on the corner of his lips gave away he wasn’t stressed or bothered. 

She nodded, “The happiest. Maybe that’s why I was so scared at first because I’ve never felt like this. And I know how dangerous unknown feelings can be.”

Mason bit his lips, “Was he the reason you wanted to see me? Did he suggest it?” 

“Yes and no,” she shook her head and chuckled. “He didn’t suggest it, Lewis did, actually. He has been since we broke up, you know he used to be wiser than us both, and he still is.” 

“I hope Lando doesn’t hear this, but I secretly root for Lewis. I will always do, even though we’re not really family anymore, nor friends.”

With the fond mention of her brother, Yn smiled, “Deep down he liked you, he was just afraid we were gonna hurt each other, and, he won’t admit it but he was jealous too. You were my first serious boyfriend after all.”

“My mom loved you too, even though she wouldn’t say it.”

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, before straightening her back, “We were so young, now look at you, playing for the big clubs, having fans around the world. I’m proud of you, Mase. And I’m sorry it took me forever to finally get to this point, I’m sorry for the things I said when we broke up, sorry for not being more patient with you.”

“I’m sorry too, Yn. I was kind of a dick to you in some situations, I can recognize it. We both should’ve had more patience, but I don’t condemn who we were, because, at the end of the day, you can’t expect experience from somebody who only started adult life. We were young and a bit reckless if you ask me,” their eyes met, and shared a laugh, both remembering the same situation. 

“Still, I should have messaged you before. We were young, but we know better now, it’s been a while since we know better, and I should have-”

Mason grabbed her wrist gently, and laid her hand on the table, “You know what didn’t change? You still act like everything is your responsibility and your fault. It’s not your job to fix the world, Yn. You could have messaged me before, yes, but so could I. But neither of us was ready, we didn’t have a reason to do so too. Now you’re in love, and you want to dive in without the weight of a past relationship, that’s reason enough, and it’s ok to do it for yourself, you deserve tranquility too.” 

Yn averted her eyes to her glass of water, just when the host got to their table, asking what they would order. Both smiled politely, asked for the vegan version of whatever was the main dish that night, and went back to talking. 

“I see your point,” she breathed.

“You gotta let people in. Yes, you need to think about others, but sometimes, some things can be avoided just by sharing the burden,” Mason stopped to take a sip of his water. “I think this is one of the reasons we didn’t work, we both wanted to take the weight and we didn’t communicate the way we should. We were so caught up in not hurting the other that we ended up hurting ourselves.”

“We hurt each other too,” Yn sighed.

“We did, and I was so angry I wouldn’t eat at your parents anymore, your dad was a great chef,” they laughed. 

“Shut up, I had a list of things I would buy for your niece, and by the time some of the stuff I bought got there we weren’t together anymore.” 

Mason threw his head back, covering his face with his hands to suppress the noise.

When silence settled by their table, Yn asked, “Do you forgive me?” 

“Did we forgive ourselves already?” 

She rolled her eyes again that night, the same playful banter as before, “My older version was a bit reckless, but I wouldn’t be here without her, so I found it in me to forgive her, yes. How about you? Have you forgiven yourself?” 

“Yeah, I’ve learned my lesson, nowadays I keep all the important dates on my calendar and they’re synced so if I lose my phone I won’t forget about a date,” he joshed making Yn laugh. They fought once because Mason forgot they had a date night scheduled, only for the fight to get bigger when Yn lost her phone and, without her calendar, forgot about one of his soccer matches. “I forgive you, Yn. Can you forgive me too?” 

“I think I forgave you a long time ago, Mase, I just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.” 

He smiled. 

They kept talking through dinner, from how their friends' group were nowadays, to racing and football. They had forgotten how funny talking to each other was. They still were compatible even after so many years, after growing and living and going through their fears, they still had that small seed that grew into a beautiful friendship years ago. 

When it was time to go, Mason wrapped his arms around Yn in a tight and long hug. 

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” she whispered. 

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” he repeated, adding, “You deserve it.” 

“We do.” 

“Thank you, Yn. Let your boyfriend know you guys can have free seats in any Mancity game you want,” he lightened the mood.

“Meh, I don’t think he’ll be that thrilled, Lew already got him into the Arsenal train,” Yn joked and Mason huffed, “but tell your girlfriend she’s invited to my next launch, and she can have a free pair of heels from this winter collection.”

“She’s not my girlfriend yet, I’m still thinking about the best way to pop the question,” Mason reminded, and Yn shrugged. 

“Yet. It’s just a matter of time. Also, this suggestion is only up if she’s not the jealous type, I don’t know, sometimes people are used to exes hating each other, when they see a pair different they can feel weird about it.” 

“You’re ranting,” he chuckled.

“I’m ranting, sorry.” 

“No, but she’s not jealous, I told her everything when the pictures came up, and she was fine. She still follows you by the way, liked all the posts about the winter collection, and talked my ears off when someone on Twitter said the shoes were ugly.” 

They laughed. 

“See you, Mase,” she bid farewell, planting a friendly kiss on his cheek.

“See you, Yn.”

When she got home that night Mick was sleeping on her couch, the TV on playing a random program about animals in Australia or whatever. The lights dimmed, and one of her scent candles was on, making the room glow and smell like peaches. She removed her heels, and coat, before lying on top of him, leaving a trail of kisses from his naked chest to his face. Mick moved slightly, brought her closer with one arm, and rubbed his eyes using his free hand.

“Hi, Schatzi,” his sleepy voice made Yn shiver slightly. 

She smiled, threading her fingers between his messy golden strands, “Hi, love. Were you waiting for me?” 

The Germa nodded, nuzzling his head on her neck, “I didn’t wanna go to be without you,” he confessed.

You could say they were going through their honeymoon phase, but they were very much aware that this would be a long phase. They would do things together and stay together as much as possible because they knew race weeks were crazy, their schedules wouldn’t always match, and both had a hectic life, so going to bed together, sharing breakfast in the morning, and doing small things with the other was something they agree on. Communication had been the key, and so both would confess their feelings and voice their needs, in order to avoid unnecessary fights. 

“Well, let’s go then, we have a long day tomorrow,” Yn pecked his lips before getting up and they made the small walk to the bedroom tangled in each other. 

“Did you finish packing?” Mick asked, eyes still closed, head buried on Yn’s neck.

She bit her lips, stopping by the bathroom door and turning her head. Their lips smashed together, and she scratched his neck lightly, earning a grunt from him. Mick’s grip on her waist tightened, and just when Yn thought she had him, he held her cheeks between his hands.

“Not gonna work,” he shook his head. “Did you finish packing?” he punctuated each word with a peck on her pouty lips and Yn whined. 

“I didn’t, I’m sorry. Can you help me in the morning?” she gave him the doe eyes and Mick sighed, suppressing a laugh, before finally nodding. “Do you happen to have some free space in yours, by the way?” 

This time she heard his laugh when he got inside the bathroom. She followed suit, watching him start to brush his teeth. She loved how domestic it felt to go through her night routine with Mick by her side. That wasn’t the first night they shared together, the first night he spent in her apartment, but each time she felt it again and again, and it was so peaceful. It felt warm and comfortable. It felt like love.

The next morning Mick helped Yn finish packing, they had breakfast at her parents’ house and then went on to their trip. They had planned to travel and enjoy the week’s break together in Mallorca, at the Schumacher’s holiday house. It wasn’t high season, but it also meant no beach for then, which wasn’t a problem, because they planned on staying at home and enjoying the privacy. Mick had some date nights ready in places he knew Yn would like, and she got a list of things they could do together in the house. 

For the first time, she wasn’t really stressed about all the pap pics of her and Mason, and all the speculation happening. Mick wasn’t, so why would she? 

They chose to focus on their trip and both agreed on starting to soft launch for some time, before finally going public. People already knew, or suspected, and it would be better if they got used to the fact that this was their life. Everyone would want a peek into it, and there was a portion of their life that would inevitably be in the open, so what they could do was give this portion themselves, instead of trying to keep it a secret and letting the media run their headlines. 

Their plan would have worked if only they hadn’t got carried away at a party and kissed. In front of everyone. The thing is, sometimes people need clarity, which means until they didn’t announce their relationship the speculations would go on, and that same night tons of headlines were already up. 

And the news was: Yn and Mason were back together. 

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: We’re so close to reaching the ending aaaaaaa I'm posting earlier to make it up because the last chapter was supposed to come two days ago and I kinda messed up. I hope you guys like it! <3 Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment, asks are always open and you're free to use the anon button if you're shy *mwah*

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[pruneunfair]

Ranking OI maids.

23: Dobiella (The villainess maker)

The 20 people in the villainess maker fanbase have already agreed this girl is literally just Dobby as a anime girl from the way she speaks to the fact that their names sound similar. Most maids in OI tend to follow 2 personality traits: either they devoted to the point of nearly being husks or they are mean bullies who pick on their boss. Dobiella though... she takes that to a whole new level, girly isn't even a person she literally needs a purpose to live, even Ayla is creeper out by it, That hairstyle she has is wack too.

22: Lina (the tyrants perfumer)

Similar to Dobiella except it's not to such a concerning degree. She's a decent character but the bar is already quite low given how the characters are simple in TTOP.

21: Ellie (50 tea recipes of the Duchess)

Her design is cute I won't lie, braids and glasses are a classic ill always be a sucker for. But again, she's really not much other than a shy follower to Chloe ready to defend her. Won't change the fact she's still my favorite character in 50 tea recipes of the Duchess.

20: Ruby's maid (how to get my husband on my side)

I honestly cannot remember her name 😞 I can't remember which chapter she debuts in so I kinda just gave up on looking. anyway when it comes to personality she's still a tad dull but she's still got more than the last 3. The design is pretty meh but I can't fault her too much, she was pretty nice for all the times I remember her on screen.

19: Emily (actually I was the real one)

on one she really annoys me for some reason, probably cause she comes across as a real suck up but on the other hand, I can understand her desires for fancy clothes and materials.

18: Mina (Actually I was the real one)

Cosettes maid she had for like.. 5 chapters. I know a lot of people hate her for talking smack about Keira and not being grateful enough but the girl was also a homeless woman with her little brother. Cosette used Mina as a tool for her goals and let her get deported when everything went wrong during the rite arc. Remember the main reason Mina did what she did was because Cosette was using her brother's comfort and safety as leverage.

17: Annie (The villainess turns the hourglass)

Again, can't blame a maid for wanting a little more in life, with that being said it feels a tad weird whenever she acts like a pet whenever Aria offers her gold. Don't really like the fact that she also covered up Annie's freckles, let the Freckles be seen! 😤

16: Urania (From maid to queen)

Her rank might go up or down in the future since I've just started reading maid to queen but I liked the idea of a protagonist who could actually be selfish instead of perfectly kind or badass. Urania gets way too much hate so far in my opinion because she's actually more realistic and the only thing I'm concerned about is that she might become too stupid in her goal to return as a concubine since it's how she died in the first timeline.

15: Rose (Actually I was the real one)

The most iconic it Keiras maids. I preferred her first appearances more but for a maid with another personality dedicated to Keira but she's not as annoying as Emily and shows up more often than Mina. I do like her but there are better ones.

14: Emma (the villainess turns the hourglass)

out of all the evil maids Emma was one of the first who at least did it in a way that wasn't just tampering with food. She was a noble who lost her wealth and suffered a miscarriage so it did explain why a maid would be classist and raise Mielle with a superiority complex. Not bad for a side villain.

13: Anna (Not your typical reincarnation story)

I didn't really care about out her at first, she had a lot of Kuu dere traits and for a while she felt like a robot, thankfully she develops little by little as time went on and I love her for it.

12: Jessie (the villainess turns the hourglass)

Homegirl was just trying to do her job and I love her for it. After what Aria put her through in the first timeline she deserves that extra compensation.

11: The head maid (How to get my husband on my side)

Does this woman even have a name? 💀 I may have said braids+glasses were one of my favorite designs for maids but it's only 2nd to the experienced and almost muscular like designs. Beyond that her personality legit makes sense. She is universally hated for not accepting Ruby and while i do think attacking her for no reason is stupid it makes sense that's she not gonna immediately trust a stranger when she has people like Ellen to take care of. Speaking of that the relationship Ellen had with the head maid for as little of it that is seen is still very wholesome. We love our older ladies.

10: Emily..again (Death is the only ending for the villainess)

Probably the most iconic of OI maids and of course I like Emily but I do wish she had a little more to do with the plot, not bad but there are better ones.

9: Granna (Handmade tales of the handmaid)

Another maid protagonist but her concept is actually unique, a old woman who passed away of natural causes unexpectedly transmigrated as a 15 year old maid and with her experience cleans the mansion she works for with ease. The story is so far amazing and Granna mentally being an old woman instead of a ordinary office worker gets her extra points.

8: Lilian (who made me a princess)

Give this woman a raise Claude! That woman did so much for Athy I still consider her the one true parent to the kid.

7: Delice (Remarried empress)

Delice may only be remembered for being mutilated by Rashta but she still holds a special place in my heart. I felt so bad for her when her brother just told her nothing was wrong when Rashta was growing unstable and next thing you know during her next shift she gets framed and tortured 😢. Rashta I love you but not cool girl! In another universe Delice got to be spared and run away to start a little flower garden or a toy store with her dream husband.

6: Sancha (Sister I will be the queen in this life)

This little cutie deserves more than what she got. Don't get me wrong the story treats her pretty well when it comes to her new life and Ariande as a friend but at the same time.. I kinda think she exists to be the token homeless girl for Ariande to bring in to look better, she doesn't do much outside of cheer her lady on and I don't really care for her love interest that much. However I have noticed that Sancha is usually at her best when she's away from Ariande meaning she does more then be a cheerleader. Her moments of refusing to forgive Malleta were her best moments for her character. Speaking of which..

5: Malleta (Sister I will be the queen in this life)

one of my most favorite problematic queens though that's not saying much considering most of my favorite characters are toxic women. First of all: the character design, Sancha looks cute and all but she has the same super cute petite and youthful look most OI maids have. I know it's just because SITQITL puts non conventionally attractive characters as villains with exception of Ceasre and Isabella but I still love that Malleta stands out with a plus sized body, freckles, and narrow eyes instead of doe eyes. Her personality while admittedly trashy is still so entertaining given how delulu she can be. Personally I wish there were scenes where she and Isabella would just be gossip girls and talk shit about all Isabellas enemies. God why did she have to die so soon 😔

4: Chuchu (isn't being a maid better than being a princess?)

Pay no attention to the fact that she shares a name with a LOZ monster. Like I said my favorite kinds of maids are the muscular types who could carry a an entire table which is why Chuchu is one the greats. She's a total gentle giant and I'm so glad the series didn't kick her out completely when the FL moved on.

3: Helena (kill the villainess)

Im gonna throw hands with Helena haters cause what did she even do!? She made mistakes and was willing to apologize and make up for them and that still wasn't enough. Istg internalized misogyny did her dirty I tell you. As the 2nd FL I'm glad the author treated her with respect and actually brought up that Helena has feelings too just like Eris. What I loved the most about her was how she realistically handled the usual evil maid when some random maid put sand in Eris's dessert. When Eris slapped her Helena stood up for what was right and told Eris there was no reason to abuse someone else when they could easily just be fired. 👏 thank you Helena, thank you for finally doing what was sensible by firing the maid instead.

2nd: Sienna (isn't being a maid better than being a princess)

It was really hard to decide between Helena and Sienna so even though Sienna is up higher they are actually tied. Just gonna say it, out of all the FL's she beats all of them in terms of character design because that braid combined with green is perfect. The manhwa she's from is pretty short but it's still really wholesome albeit with a few cliches and random sad flashbacks.

1st: Bridgette. (This isekai maid is forming a union)

Reddit can complain about isekai maid villainizing nobles too much but I won't care because Bridgette, like Helena, IS a maid and naturally would be against workplace abuse. It's funny how quick they'll be about complaining that the nobles are one note because they don't have justifiable reasons to slap a maid while they don't bat an eye at the numerous counts of villainized maids in OI beforehand. Back to the point though Bridgette is one of the most complex protagonists I've ever seen. She can be mean, she can be kind, she can rash and she can still be resilient. That's what makes her so relatable she's not a single personality teathered to a ball and chain. Not only that but it's her and the entire story that made me feel comforted knowing I wasn't the only one turned off by the iffy tropes in OI being supported.

These tropes are all shown through flashbacks of Bridgettes past lives and I have to point out how much they still feel so unique even if they are the same soul, each of them making me cry one way or another. (Fawn and Muriel, my babies! 😭)

[agentstarkid]

FOREVER IS THE SWEETEST CON ✦ DR3

✦ DEBRIEF: While isolating in a hotel room, some things can't be ignored any more and, as stars fade in the dawn's light, some bonds were meant to be broken, like whispers carried away by the desert wind.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 4.3K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, established relationship, lots of angst, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, there's a nine-year age gap, forced proximity (if you squint), language.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holis babes! before you all come for me with your pitchforks, I'd like to remind you that english is not my first language so I wanna give a big biiig thank you to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for englishing this baby and for encouraging me to write it when I told her I was thinking about it ❤️ I actually wrote this back in october and I can finally post it!! It is tied to Saudade, if you want more context to their story. This is not the end, okay?... or is it? hehe byeee

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Wednesday, just a day before his scheduled morning session, the symptoms began to show. They knew from the moment he started to complain about his body aching all over. The uncertainty and concern were present from the first moment, intensifying when, as a precaution, he underwent several medical tests to verify whether he suffered from Covid or not. However, the first test came back negative. It was a breath of relief, at least for a moment. But on Friday afternoon the alarms went off, and the Aussie driver's negative became a terrifying positive that further disrupted the false peace that they had tried so hard to preserve in recent weeks.

Practice for the opening race was scheduled for the following Friday, and having to isolate in accordance with local regulations meant that Daniel would go into the new season without having driven the car since last month.

Locked away from the outside world, tension brewed within the confines of a hotel room. This forced proximity only served to accentuate the strains that had long been present. The fraying edges of your relationship were now illuminated under the harsh fluorescent lights, magnified by the claustrophobic confinement of quarantine.

You entered the bedroom and found him lying on the bed, wearing a navy shirt and a pair of sweats, his feet locked at the ankles and his attention focused on his phone.

“How are you feeling?”

“’m fine,” he sighed.

“Do you need anything?” you tried again.

“Nope.”

You went to lay down on your side of the bed. “Heard Lando had problems with the car today.”

“Seems the car is even shittier than last year.” He let out a dry laugh. “But I wouldn’t know because I’m stuck in this fucking hotel room for the rest of the week.”

“Look on the bright side, you’ve got a couple of extra days to relax before the craziness of the season begins.” You gave a half shrug.

“Wouldn’t exactly call this relaxing. But you wouldn’t understand.”

“What does that mean? I know how you’re feeling-”

He shook his head and huffed, dropping his phone on the bed. “No, that’s the thing. You don’t know, sweetheart. How would you know? You didn’t get a fucking positive result and was forced to stay inside these walls, watching how everyone else gets the chance to freely try out their cars before they really have to focus on the season. You’re only stuck here as a precaution. It’s funny, you know…” He snorted. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately. And it’s been fine in the meantime. But as soon as you get here—”

“Are you saying that all of this is my fault?” The tension in the room was palpable as the argument raged on.

He rubbed his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. He wouldn't even look at you — and somehow that annoyed you even more.

“Oh, I’m sorry for not being considerate enough to also get sick, it’s not like I can actually control that. But that might be my fucking fault, too. I’m too fucking busy being worried about your health. My bad.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. You turned back over to face away from him.

You felt so tired and hurt. In the last few days, these walls have felt like a battleground, waiting for you to engage in combat. And all you keep doing is try to stand tall pretending to be the bravest soldier.

It all began with the relentless hate that had been heaped upon you recently. At first, it was fine, it was expected, and you would laugh about the things they were saying. You must have been blinded by the honeymoon phase, as some people call it, but all things must come to an end. Lately, Daniel's devoted fans had turned into a fierce mob, outraged and blaming you for his performance last year, saying it was all the time he's been spending with you instead of focusing on his career. The hateful comments and messages had started to poison the relationship.

You guessed that it was easier when you were the only target. It was bearable to an extent; you could take it. Wasn't the first time it happened, and you supposed it was all part of the “big show”. But once they started targeting him too – things took a 180-degree turn.

Daniel and you had been inseparable for two years, celebrating your anniversary not too long ago. Now, you both lay silently in your hotel room; the once fiery love now reduced to smoldering embers.

He sighed and turned his head in your direction. “Babe, I—”

“It’s okay.” You mumbled squeezing your eyes shut, trying to keep in the tears that threatened to fall. “Goodnight.”

He covered his eyes with his hands; he didn’t mean to snap at you like that. He could hear you taking deep breaths, and something in his chest felt heavy. This need to bicker, to fight with you had been present for a few weeks, but lately had reached an all-time high.

The 2021 Formula 1 season had brought with it a surge of emotions that Daniel hadn't anticipated. As he settled into his new role with McLaren, the pressure to prove he was the more experienced driver in his first year with the team weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Every race was a chance to show the world that he still had what it took to compete at the highest level of motorsport. The expectations were high, and the scrutiny was relentless. Fans, the media, and fellow drivers all wondered if the Honey Badger could return to his former glory.

The season brought a mix of highs and lows. The highlight, undoubtedly, was the victory in Monza. It was a moment that should have been celebrated longer as a triumph for both Daniel and McLaren. However, amidst the jubilation, there was a bitter undercurrent of frustration. It seemed that the team's focus was already shifting to the next race, their first win in 12 years overshadowed by the relentless march of time.

Daniel's frustration grew as he watched the spotlight turn away from Monza's victory. He yearned for the recognition, the culmination of a year of hard work and perseverance. But as the season continued, the pressure only increased. The wins were non-existent, and the losses weighed heavily on him, each one gnawing at his confidence.

The expectations for the coming season were higher than ever. He knew that he had to perform at his best to silence the critics and prove that he still had that competitive edge. The weight of those expectations seemed to hang over him, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

Each race weekend would become a test, a chance to prove himself once again. The roar of the engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the pressure of the competition were all part of the Formula 1 world that he loved, but they also added to the mounting stress.

You couldn’t sleep at all.

Sleep evaded you that night. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to fix the fractured parts of the relationship. Where did it go wrong? The question replayed over and over again like a broken record.

You stretched your arm to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time.

2:30 A.M. Just a little bit less than 4 hours until the sun would come out. And 5 more days until you both would be free to leave this room.

You stood up from the bed and went to Daniel’s bedside table to look for the fingertip pulse oximeter. Once you found it, you knelt down and took his hand, careful not to wake him, and placed the oximeter on the tip of his index finger. After a few seconds of waiting for the values to remain constant, you sighed with relief when a big 98 appeared under the oxygen saturation. Thankfully, his symptoms were not of great concern, and he showed constant improvements. But you didn’t want to risk it, so every few hours you made sure to check his vitals just so you could have a little peace of mind. Especially when he was sleeping.

You couldn’t help but look at him for a moment. He looked to be in a profound state of sleep, so calm and so beautiful. His features, usually animated and lively, rested in a serene calm. You observed the rise and fall of his chest, the tranquil expressions that danced across his face, and the gentle harmony of his breathing. In these hushed moments, it was like nothing had changed, where you were still you and he was still the same Daniel that promised you that you were a team.

As you gazed upon him, your heart was a mix of conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was the undeniable warmth and affection that comes from witnessing his vulnerability in slumber. Yet, a touch of sadness lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the unresolved tension from the previous fight. The serenity of his sleep served as a poignant backdrop to your disagreements, and you desperately longed for the chance to mend the rift and return to the peace you once shared.

It didn’t take long for the tears to appear again and you couldn’t help but curse being so sensitive. You stood up; you knew that going back to bed was useless, so you headed out of the room. You ended up curled up on the couch in the dark living room of your hotel room, the soft glow of your phone screen casting a bright light on your tear-streaked face. You debated whether calling one of the girls or just text them in need of letting all this helplessness out. But you didn't want to bother them with your problems, you knew they already had enough with their owns. So, you gave up on the idea.

Your relationship with Daniel had been a whirlwind of love and excitement, a passionate journey that had weathered ups and downs, but always coming out stronger on the other side. Now, you weren’t so sure you would come out of this unscathed.

Was it time to let it go? You couldn’t help but wonder. You weren’t new to this predicament. It happened before with your last relationship. But with Harry, the revelation that it was over came naturally and gently. You both were on the same page and knew it was inevitable. But with Daniel, your heart told you to continue, begged you to keep fighting while your mind was sending out warning signals that you chose to completely ignore.

The bright Bahraini sun shone through the big windows when Daniel, out of habit, rolled over to pull your body closer and instead felt the coldness of the sheets on your side of the bed. He opened his eyes and searched around the room. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off, so you couldn’t be there. He stood up and left the room, yawning. He found you in the same place you ended up last night, curled up and holding a pillow to your chest.

The dark bags under your eyes were more prominent this morning. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of you. He got closer and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead and felt you stir for a moment before slowly opening your eyes. You rubbed your eyes before looking up at him silently.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said in a sleepy voice.

“What are you doing here?” he yawned, taking a seat on the couch as you moved back to give him space.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied in a muted voice, eyes downcast, fiddling with your fingernails.

And that was the routine after an argument: fight. One of you would try to walk away to calm down (most of the time it was you). Pretend nothing happened and go back to normal – well, whatever normal meant these days. Repeat.

A heavy silence settled between you. He leaned back on the couch, just staring at your face. He knew he should say something. Apologize even. But the words refused to come out. Meanwhile, thoughts swirled in your mind, doubts that had been lingering for a while now. Was it all in your head? Had you been the problem all along?

No.

As the seconds ticked by, the fog began to lift, and with it came a newfound clarity. It wasn't all in your head, and you weren't the sole problem. You had believed for so long it was your responsibility to make things right, to hold everything together. But it had been a shared responsibility, a partnership that had eroded in different ways.

Yes. You had both contributed to this.

You had underestimated the significance of his actions, his choices, and his words. In the process of taking all the blame, you had overlooked how he had let things slip away, how he had failed to communicate, and how he had allowed the distance to grow. You realized that it was a two-way street, and while you had been quick to accept responsibility for your part, it was time for both of you to acknowledge your roles in your shared demise.

Something within you was stirring, a growing realization that you couldn't keep shouldering the blame for everything. It wasn't fair to you, nor was it the path to a healthy and equal relationship.

"I can't do this anymore, Daniel," you murmured, your eyes brimming with sadness.

"No, no no— no we're not doing this—"

“Amor, please,” you pleaded in a whisper. Tears welled up in your eyes, but your resolve held firm. “We've been arguing about everything lately. All of this is hurting us. Your fans—”

Daniel's heart ached, but he lashed out in defense. “You know it's not that simple! I can't control what my fans say—”

Your irritation boiled over. "But you can defend me, Daniel! You can stand up for us!”

Frustration welled up in Daniel, his voice growing sharper. "I'm trying to protect what's left of my career, YN! Last season was awful for me, apart from one win, which was insignificant, apparently. I've got my own fucking problems!” He stood up forcefully and started to pace around the room.

Your anger flared and big angry tears streamed down your face. “You think it's only your career that's on the line? What about us? We're supposed to be a team, supporting each other. ‘Us against everything else’, remember? But you're making it all about you!” you screamed at him, standing up from where you were previously sitting.

He suddenly stopped in front of you. “You're too young and naive to understand the pressure I'm under. It's not just about us. It's about my career, it’s about my life! And that’s very rich coming from you,” he scoffed. “What about your fans, huh? The hate I'm getting from them and other people, it's taking a fucking toll!” he hissed. You stared at him, feeling shocked by his words. He kept going. “And let’s not forget how fucking clingy you’ve been. You suffocate me sometimes. Must be nice to have a job where you can just drop everything anytime you want and take paid vacations to follow me around.”

His words left you feeling as though the ground had been yanked from beneath your feet.

You're too young and naive. How fucking clingy you’ve been — You suffocate me sometimes. His words echoed incessantly in your mind like a stuck playback.

When did the insecurities shared transform into arrows, aimed at your most profound wounds?

You snapped, “You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. And I warned you. I gave you an out so many times, but you decided to stay.” A bitter laugh left your mouth. “You said I was the greatest risk you’ve ever taken and the greatest reward—”

“And I did think that, YN,” he uttered. “We lived inside a bubble for so long, but reality is different. Maybe we rushed into this too soon.”

“Come on, bury my heart deeper, Danielito. If that's what you're trying to do— it's working,” you said with a pained smile, eyes only focused on him.

The room seemed to grow colder, and your voices decreased in volume. But the damage had been done. Daniel realized the pain his words had caused, but his own frustration clouded his judgment. “This wouldn’t even be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it,” he muttered bitterly.

“Please, don’t make this worse than it already is,” you agonized; your voice was shaky. Invisible claws of grief and anguish were tearing at the muscles and tendons in your chest. You never knew that emotions could possess such tangible, physical presence.

“If only we had met on different grounds. Then maybe things would have been different, we would be different.”

You couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire. You lacked the capacity for a graceful exit, and if you were aflame, you'd ensure that he, too, would turn to ashes. “Do you mean what if I was different?” A new wave of anger swept over you.

That question caught him off guard, forcing Daniel to pause and stare at you, honest surprise and confusion coloring his face. “What?”

Your voice trembled with a mix of frustration and hurt as you confronted him. “Heidi's constant presence in the paddock these past few months, the way you've been talking to her, and how people are speculating about you two... It's causing me to doubt myself and my place in your life.”

Daniel's brows furrowed, and his voice carried irritation. “YN, this is ridiculous. Heidi is just a friend. We've been through this countless times.”

You inched forward as you tried to make him understand. “I know she's your friend, but the way you've been spending time with her lately... it's different. I can't shake off the feeling that there might be something more.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, his frustration mounting. “You're being crazy, YN. We're just friends, and it's unfair of you to accuse me, and especially her, like this.” In a further defensive move, he shot back, “You're the one who had those cheating rumors circulating, not me. You should know how destructive and unfounded these accusations can be. And now, you're doing the same thing with Heidi?”

It felt like a hard punch to your gut, you took in a sharp breath, “So, you're bringing this up again? We already cleared the air about those false accusations when they hit us. I would never dare cheat on you!” Your frustration was palpable.

“And why is it so fucking hard to believe I wouldn’t either?” Suddenly, you could clearly see how sadness clouded his features.

The room seemed to close in around you both. Then, all of a sudden, you realized that healing from this and moving forward required a level of understanding and compassion that seemed beyond reach in the heat of this argument.

In that moment, you knew for certain that it was over. The love you had once celebrated, the memories you had shared, now felt like distant echoes of a happier time.

How did you both allow things to spiral into such chaos? This living room had transformed into a battleground, where words cut like knives. Where were the Daniel and YN who were deeply in love? The ones who, for the first time, felt safe to be vulnerable and discuss a future they had envisioned together; one with a couple of tiny little feet running around the farm in a couple of years and joking about how wild a perfect mix of Australian and Latino genes would be. Now, you stood face to face, unrecognizable, refusing to show any sign of surrender.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end at all.

The silence in the room was suffocating. All the energy and adrenaline left your body at once. You felt emotionally drained, as though a storm had swept through your heart and left it battered and exhausted.

You took a sit back on the couch and ran your hands across your face, squeezing your eyes shut. “We can't go on like this.”

So, this is it, Daniel thought. Dread twisted in his gut; he felt like he might throw up. His shoulders slumped and he raked his fingers through his hair as he took a seat next to you. The vulnerability in your words cut him deeply, but he understood the gravity of the situation. "You're right," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. “We tried, didn’t we? We gave it our best shot” a sad smile adorned his tired face. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” he murmured as tears shone in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, too. I wanted to make it work. I always just wanted to be the one.” Your heart seemed to shatter into even smaller fragments. As you wiped away a single tear that trickled down your cheek, the physical act of brushing it away only served to accentuate the profound pain that had settled within your chest. It felt as though each tear carried with it a piece of your shattered dreams and the love that was now slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. In that fleeting moment, your heartache intensified, and you realized that this breakup was leaving you more broken than you had ever thought possible.

As the final words echoed in the room, you, your tears spent, turned and walked out into the bedroom, leaving Daniel alone with the weight of what had just transpired.

As soon as you left the room, you locked yourself in the bathroom and texted Blake. You asked him if there was any chance, he could talk to the hotel so you could get another room for the remaining time you had to be in quarantine. The request took him by complete surprise, and you explained shortly that Daniel and you had just broken up.

He assured you he was going to do everything in his power to get you a new room. You were sure that as soon as you hung up the phone, he was already texting Daniel asking for a better explanation.

As you sat on the bathroom floor, the pain was all-encompassing, a relentless throb deep within your chest that left you gasping for air. It felt as though a gaping void had taken up residence in your heart, and you weren’t sure how to fill it.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Numbness had started to settle in. A surreal feeling that this couldn't be real, that you would wake up from this nightmare at any moment. You wished that a switch would flip and make it all go away, but the pain persisted.

Bitterness and anger boiled within you. You felt wronged by the universe, by the cruel twist of fate that had torn you both apart. You resented the public scrutiny, the relentless judgment from fans and strangers alike, and the demands of your high-profile careers.

You felt unbearably alone. You longed for Daniel’s presence, for the familiar comfort of his arms, but he was no longer yours to hold. Your heart ached for the man you thought, for a short period, you would spend the rest of your life with, even though you knew that was no longer possible. The pain of heartbreak was, for you, an agonizing and inescapable reality, and you had yet to discover how to heal and move forward.

Turns out Blake went beyond of what you initially asked for. He arranged for you to take the PCR test again to confirm that you had not contracted the virus while sharing a room with Daniel.

After two slow and torturous days, where you spent your time curled up on the couch and Daniel spent his in the bedroom — a decision you made, he was the sick one after all. After two consecutive negative results, you were given the green light to leave. You had already packed your things after your call with Blake a few days ago, hoping you could change rooms. He had asked you if you needed anything else, saying he was willing to facilitate everything for you. He saw you as a fundamental part of this little dysfunctional family and had developed a deep affection for you. You couldn’t thank him enough.

Soon you had a plane waiting to take you back to L.A., to a house, not a home, all alone. You were leaving behind what you've come to realize was your home in the last two years.

You awkwardly said goodbye to Daniel. Your voice sounded tired, while he shifted on his feet on the threshold of the bedroom door. Curls wild, beard a bit longer than the past days and the bags under his eyes looked even more prominent. Despite the visible signs of weariness on both of you, you still couldn't draw any solace from the shared pain.

You knew you had to find your own path, to heal from these wounds, and to rediscover who you were outside of the relationship. As the plane took off, you made a silent promise to yourself to emerge from this ordeal stronger, wiser, and ready to face the world, no matter how unforgiving it might be.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 28

chapter 47:

1. 😟😶 no one even got to say goodbye. i- WHAT THE HELL??? FUCKING RIDDLE

2. i’m at least happy that remus, james, and pandora can all take care of each other during the games.

3. im actually highly worried about regulus being a death eater. too worried, actually

4. “Regulus realizes it as he sits there, never moving or doing anything at all, just breathing; he isn't scared this time. Not even a bit.”

reg not being scared makes ME scared

5. “He had planned to kiss Remus' mask one last time, and kiss Remus, too.”

of COURSE it’s ALWAYS wolfstar that tips the tears over. why does THAT make me sob???

6. oh shit. it’s a maze

7. “”Come now, surely you wouldn't harm me and little Draco, would you?"

"I'm going to give you one chance to run," Sirius tells her, holding still, "and take little Draco with you."”

LMAOO they both know she’s lying out her ass

8. “It's Mavis and Velvet; they'd done exactly as they promised they would. They found weapons, found each other, and they died together. Their bodies are splayed out on the ground right beside one another, curled close in death like the lovers they were in life.”

oh shit oh shit oh shit i’m starting to cry again. i feel so bad for them, but don’t blame them in the slightest. it’s what i would have done

9. “and there's just this quiet, momentary mourning and respect for two people who loved each other and decided, together, that they would not participate in a game as cruel and sadistic as this one. They went out together, in complete control of their own fate, and they never deserved anything other than a long life full of love.”

crying HARDER. this would be the turning point in the games for me. i shit you not, i’d start teaming up and trying to break out the fucking arena

10. “And then, unprompted, Regulus' voice rings out, nearly snarling. He's addressing the sky, the audience, the Hallows in a low hiss of derision when he declares, "When you take them, you take them together, and know that it's your fault."”

i know i’m quoting this whole little section, but it’s IMPORTANT and it HURTS and everyone in that arena is being human right now instead of trying to survive. they’re all united on the front that they’re human and understand what it meant to love

11. i’m not surprised that the “first” kill of the arena was made by sirius. especially since it was to save regulus

12. WAIT YALL ARE GONNA LAUGH AT ME FOR THIS!!! sirius killed twelve people in the arena the first time. just like how he was blamed for twelve deaths in canon. i. it took me too long to make that connection yall

13. oh CHRIST i forgot that they planned to kill marlene’s parents in front of her right before she went in the arena. i’m so sorry. i want to comfort her

14. “Someday, Riddle is going to fuck with the wrong person, and they're going to slaughter him, and on that day, the whole world is going to shine just a little brighter” 👀 side eye

15. sirius has too much trust in regulus and i understand why and i see that, but BABES you’re so wrong

16. “In fact, they're all eyeing him like they're considering just killing him now so they won't have to deal with the headache he is sure to be. He's so ridiculously fond of each of them, truly.” 😶😑😶 blink blink. my dear. you need therapy

17. i- eli got in the arena and took a GODDAMN NAP- no fucking way. that’s wild y’all

18. regulus hating the rain is so me. and i’m not even exaggerating. reg hates the rain and refuses to go in it. if i get wet from the rain, the second i get indoors, i start having severe panic attacks over getting wet. i don’t blame him in the slightest.

19. y’all. people have really got to stop challenging regulus. he says that he’s gonna kill a person or stab them with a fork or brutally maim them if they kill/insult james or sirius. and every damn time, people still test him. and every time, he goes through with it. why do people not believe him?? he SAID he won’t hesitate

20. the authors notes are literally me on the previous point (19):

“regulus: i am telling you explicitly what i will physically do to you if you do This Thing

everyone else: *does it anyway and is immediately shocked when he follows through*

like??? DOES HE LOOK LIKE THE TYPE OF MAN WHO JOKES??? WHY DOES NO ONE TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY??”

😭😭😭 me fr

remember to respect zar’s wishes and fanfic laws! do not buy fics! do not repost crimson rivers on other sites. please and thank you.

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 11/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

I'm sorry if this feels a bit fast-paced but I am not writing 1 month's worth of Luci's journey on Earth alksjdlas

Everything is tying up very nicely.

The ending is already being written and this chapter has a lot of clues on what will happen next.

To any ARTISTS or WRITERS who want to make something based on this AU, you have my full permission! All I ask is I want to read/see it!

Your reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated.

And feel free to chat with me if you have any theories or AUs or this AU of your own!

---------------------------

The thing about being immortal and whose existence started since the beginning of well- everything- is that it is literally just a concept.

Centuries feel like minutes. Days into seconds. Seconds into basically nothing.

Hell, the only reason why Lucifer knew 7 years had passed since Lilith left was because he was counting. He wanted to be reminded of the pain of losing the first person he ever loved.

Call him a bad father but he genuinely doesn't know how long since he has seen Charlie.

He knows it's been a while but he didn't realize just how much longer it was. He missed out on so many years of his daughter's life because he couldn't stop being fucking sad.

Charlie probably has something to say about that mentality but he can't help it.

So when Lucifer takes a whole month of scouring Earth before he finds what he's looking for, he curses himself.

Didn't he just arrive on Earth a few hours ago? Now that he thinks about it, following that wild duck chase (it's goose, dear) should've been a dead giveaway that he was taking too long.

He should've known seeing the sun and moon appearing at that many intervals meant days were flying by.

It's not entirely his fault. Pride's days and nights are basically the same- plus it's not like he needs sleep. It was bound to fuck up his body clock.

Judging by how there are no effects in the human world yet, they're still probably keeping the Roo situation at bay. He's grateful for his siblings but it only makes him move more urgently.

Lucifer arrives at a grassy field on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

It was warm, but the wind is making sure the skin doesn't burn by the sun's rays. He looks around and spots a woman-like figure under the shade of the line tree- her short hair dancing with the wind.

Lucifer walks loudly to her but she doesn't acknowledge his presence. Only when he is standing in her line of sight does she react.

Unknown: Hello, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Goodie.

The Good of Humanity. The being he unintentionally corrupted by his actions.

Goodie: To what do I owe the pleasure.

Lucifer: I need your help. It's about your sister.

Goodie: Hmm? Well then. Come sit. It appears we have a lot to talk about ~

Lucifer sits and takes a deep breath.

Lucifer: Roo- Roo is breaking out. It's only a matter of time before she fully escapes and we are not strong enough to seal her back up again with her stronger state. Hell will-

Goodie stops his rambling by placing a hand on his.

Goodie: Calm now, angel.

Lucifer:… sorry.

Goodie: You say my sister is coming back?

Lucifer: Yes. She's eating her way out of hell and if we don't stop her soon, my people- my family are going to die. I am never above begging so please- help us.

There was a pregnant pause before Goodie spoke up again.

Goodie: I do not have the power you are looking for.

Lucifer: But..

Goodie: But! I never said I would not help.

Lucifer: you'll help Hell?

Goodie: I am the embodiment of good. I can see how much of it someone has inside their heart and right now… your heart is as full as it is pure.

Lucifer: Then how can we-

Goodie: I can lend you something that shall be enough to contain her. But for this to work, I need one thing.

Lucifer: What is it?

Goodie finally meets his eyes. He felt like he was looking at everything he destroyed- the failed project that is humanity.

Goodie: You.

------------------------------------------------

What to look forward to in Part 12:

Luci comes back to hell with Goodie in tow.

Some conflicts started by the overlords

The Lucifer finally gets involve in the ritual