#I’ll hopefully be able to make better art when I get home
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andromeda-nova-writing · 2 months ago
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“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”
Fem!Reader Words: 1742
AN: Is it a sequel to the last fic or a request from @isekyaaa? It's both! I hope I've done the prompt justice for you
Y/N’s classroom was silent as she shuffled papers around trying to clean up what was now a shared classroom. To say it was her classroom wasn’t a good way to describe the room. It was a room that she had been thrown into over a month ago on the other side of the campus. The classroom was cramped, lights would flicker in and out, and the heat would never kick in. It felt as if the university just wanted her to quit. Had her rightful complaints of poor treatment got her into this? Or maybe it was the fact she wasn't afraid to critique their golden boy? 
At least she had already completed her final class of the day and with no meetings, all that was left to do was to go home. Hopefully, the next teacher here will be satisfied with her cleaning. With the knock on the door, she assumed that was who had shown up.
“I’ll be just a minute. I’m almost done in here.” Y/N placed the last of the papers within her bag, eyes not even making contact with the door frame. “I just have to clean the whiteboard.”
There was a man’s sigh followed by footsteps and a binder landing in front of her on the desk where she sat. It was a plain purple that felt way too familiar. Looking up at its owner she shouldn’t have been surprised. “What do you want Ratio?” Her question came off in a mix of annoyance, tiredness, and ready for a fight.
“Open it.”
“Your hands work.”
“Will you just open the binder?” A question that sounded more like a demand
She rolled her eyes before doing what she had been asked. There was no sense in fighting every little thing. Looking at the paper on top, it was just a simple list of grades over time. There were two sections highlighted about a month apart from each other with a noticeable improvement. It was small but clear to see. “It's a start at least. Is this all you have to show me?”
He flipped to the next page. It was the start of a thesis for what he must have been currently working on. The page was covered in red ink of his handwriting over the text he had printed out. It had been a bit odd to see knowing how much he had preferred to work in digital. He had on plenty of occasions spoken a snide comment to her about how he did not need to leave to grab a notebook and that he had access to everything he needed at all times. There were too many times when he had given her a side eye even on just running out of ink.
“You do know I’m in an entirely different field of study than anything you’ve done? I’m not sure if you really want me to read this over. It may be best to find someone else.” She closed the binder, rejecting his request before getting up to clean the whiteboard behind her. “I teach art history. I’m doing a fashion history course at the moment!” She emphasized as began to wipe down the whiteboard, clearing it of a few things that had been required for her students to take note of. 
“You are able to not hold back on giving critiques which is a skill in itself.” One that others at the university he found were lacking. “I do not require someone who has a similar knowledge as me. It’s harder to understand where my writing doesn’t make sense when someone has an easier time following along with the subject matter.”
Y/N dropped the cloth in her hands, turning around. “That is not the compliment you think it is!”
“And it wasn't an insult either!” He pinched his nose in an attempt to remain calm. “It's a rough draft. There are still things I would like to add but I want you to read through it first.”
She leaned against the clean side of the whiteboard that was behind her. “It would be better to find someone else to read through it. What part of that do you not understand?”
“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” He had said it louder than he had meant to, emotions taking over for a brief moment. Perhaps the same emotions that had derailed his train of logic led him to even ask her for this favor.
“The part where you are the one who is saying it. I’m bound to say something that will start a debate and derail your work. Or better yet I help you only end up teaching in a closet next.”
“You act as if I am the one who put you in here.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. You even yelled at me over this a month ago.”
“I wasn't yelling.” 
He had crossed his arms giving her a side eye.
“You are misremembering. I was annoyed yes but yelling no.” 
“If you can remember that you can remember your own actions then. You waltzed in and blamed me for the actions of people higher up than me.”
“I,” she sighed remembering back on it more, “I did do that didn’t I? To be fair, your lack of teaching skills left me in a room where I feel like I'm going to turn into an ice cube. How are you even standing in here without shivering?” Y/N asked as she looked over the more revealing aspects of his attire. 
He shook his head at the lack of an apology. “They do keep most of the servers within this building. That's still no excuse for why this room is so cold.”
“Every time I ask about it I'm told either the heat is out or that it's on low. I was told it was going to be fixed but I’m pretty sure that was a lie now. Most of my students started bringing blankets to class with them. They are just recording the lecture instead of taking notes and I can tell they aren’t going back to listen to it cause the grades are just dropping now.” Y/N complained with defeat just washing over her. 
“Have you made it known that these changes are affecting your class?” He asked the obvious as if she couldn’t think of it herself.
“They will make changes off of things you say because the complaints come from you. Your name carries weight. No matter how correct I am, because I even dare to point out a flaw of yours I am to be ignored and tossed aside so as to not ruin what your name brings to this place.” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m clearly being punished. If I speak about what is going on anymore who knows what I may lose next? The arts remain to be disrespected even when used to teach about the history of different worlds. I must face the fact that I am not wanted.” It hurt a bit to admit it allowed. This had been a dream job of hers and it felt horrible to see it ripped from her over a lack of general respect from those above her.
“I want you.” He repeated once more with softness and desperation leaking into his voice. “As annoying as your critiques can be, listening to them has forced me to take a look at myself and bring improvement. Trying to improve myself without the input of another only works for so long. I’ve seemed to have forgotten that.” Perhaps he had grown too similar to some of those who worked here in that aspect. The distance between them was breaking as he moved closer into her space. 
Her laughter filled the small space between the two of them. One that was genuine, not filled with their usual sarcasm and jabs back and forth. “Are you hiding a literature degree there? I've never heard anyone beg for a critique like this before.” She teased.
“It’s not begging. I am just asking what I know you are capable of. You would have given your thoughts without me asking, wouldn’t it be better to invite those thoughts instead?” 
“I suppose it would but I'm not quite sure about it still. My critiques of you haven't ended well for me. What's to say this time would be different?”
“I believe I have met your requirements to discuss what is considered life-changing once more.” The grades rising just by points didn’t meet what she had asked of him and yet it was enough to take his advances seriously. 
“I wasn’t sure you would follow through on what I asked of you. Have you found a definition or have you found a different example?” She looked up at him, it took everything to not lose herself in how he was staring at her. His eyes tethered to her lips watching every movement. Part of her wished he would go through with the example she had put a stop to last time.
“It would seem that day in the library was example enough for me. The memory won’t quiet in my mind.”
“Perchance have you put that brain of yours to work figuring out what would quiet it?”
“It is less a matter for my brain to solve.”
“But you have found a solution?” Her eyes kept darting between his normally cold eyes and his lips which appeared so inviting. Maybe if she had paid more attention last time she would have noticed that before.
“I have.”
“I must ask, do you want me for a critique or do you want me?”
“If it’s both?”
“Then I would implore you to show me what you considered life-changing that day. It may persuade me to say yes.”
It was only a matter of mere seconds before Y/N found herself kissing the man she had been blaming for some of her issues with this university. However, she mostly laid the blame for those issues starting with his teaching style, but it was hard to focus on his flaws when he was being so loving at the moment.
Was it loving or more an act of desperation? Something that she would decide later as for now it was quite enjoyable being pinned against a whiteboard making out with a man she could have sworn was just a thorn in her side.
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karmic-vibes · 2 years ago
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Oh, Baby, Baby
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premise: t4t steddie where Stevie gets her six kids.
1 - One Drink’s What Led to Change
art credit: shinydirtycoin on twitter
cw: teen pregnancy, gender dysphoria, rapid progressing labor, accidental misgendering/use of deadname
Year: 1984
“Is Eds really making out with the Stevie Harrington? This can’t fucking be real,” Gareth gawked.
“Yeah, they’ve been dating for nearly a month. Where the hell have you been?” Jeff teased.
“Yeah, they’ve been dating for nearly a month. Where the hell have you been?” Jeff teased.
“Clearly not here. How’d he even bag her? She’s Hawkins royalty.”
“I dunno, maybe because they’re the only trans people for miles and find comfort in each other?”
“Christ, no need to go all sappy, Jeff.”
“I think it’s cute,” Grant shrugged.
“Can you assholes stop staring at us,” Eddie hollered.
“I gotta head to class,” Stevie sighed. “See you tonight?
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Can’t wait.” Eddie placed a chaste kiss on her lips as she walked away.
“God, the things she does to me.” He clutched his chest and dramatically flung himself against the lockers. “Boys, I might be in love.”
“Slow your roll, Ed, it’s only been a month.”
“Hey, when you know, you know.”
Later that night, Eddie picked Stevie up at her house and the two drove off to the quarry. Eddie packed dinner for the two of them, but it was quickly forgotten when Stevie dragged her boyfriend into the back of the van. They had been making out since they got there, both desperate for more.
“God, Stevie,” Eddie breathed between kisses. “Fuck me, please.”
“Mm, you sure?” she panted.
“Never been more sure of anything. I need you… please…”
“Anything for you, pretty boy.”
While neither of them imaged their first time together being in the back of a dingy van, they wouldn’t have it any other way. They both left that night satisfied and smiling, eager for the next time they got to do it. Hell, they were eager just to see each other again. The time they spent together was addicting—better than any drug out there.
The couple spent every waking moment they could together. On each other whenever possible.
One evening, when Stevie’s parents weren’t home—because when were they ever—the couple was making out on the couch, ignoring the movie they had popped in. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He had to pull away from his girlfriend to catch his breath and hopefully ease his stomach. When he still felt queasy, he gently pushed Stevie off his lap and sprinted to the bathroom. He heaved up his dinner, struggling to get a breath in.
“Eddie, baby? You okay?” Stevie called.
“Mhmm, just peachy.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just don’t feel good. Stomach hurts.”
“Was it from dinner?”
“Dunno.”
“Okay, well, let’s go run to the drug store and get you some pepto. Sound good?”
“Yeah, just… just give me a sec.”
“Take all the time you need.”
When Eddie was finally able to summon all his strength, the two headed to the closest convenience store to find something to help ease the poor boy’s stomach. As they wandered the aisles, Stevie grabbed whatever she thought would help. Eddie managed to get separated from his girlfriend, somehow ending up in the feminine hygiene section. He figured he’d get some more period products while he was there.
As he reached for his usual brand of tampons, it hit him—why hadn’t he had his period yet? He should’ve gotten it three weeks ago. When the realization set in, he fumbled to grab the cheapest set of pregnancy tests he could find. He tucked the box into the waist band of his pants so he wouldn’t have to explain himself to Stevie.
I’ll test in the morning, he thought.
Sure enough, both of the them were positive.
He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Him and Stevie only had unprotected sex once—but then again, that’s all it takes. Eddie dreaded telling his girlfriend. What if she dumped him? What if she gave him an ultimatum he couldn’t dare choose between?
God, he didn’t know if the stupid fetus or his own ramped brain was making him more nauseous.
Eddie decided to pull the trigger and tell Stevie during their next date night. When the couple was in the middle of eating dinner in Stevie’s massive dining room, Eddie was busy psyching himself up.
“Hey, Stevie?” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I have to tell you something…”
“Is everything okay?”
“No, not really.”
“Are you okay?”
“I mean, I could be better.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant…”
“What…”
“Yeah… I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet. Kinda wanted your opinion.”
“I… shit…”
“Yep.”
“I guess my biggest question is… would you be okay going through with it? Y’know, mentally. The last thing I’d want is for you to get dysphoric.”
“Wait, you… you wanna keep it?”
“I mean, yeah, why not? I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Never thought this young, but, yeah… if you want to, then I want to.”
“Your parents are gonna kill us.”
“My dad might, yeah. My mom will probably help us out a bit.”
“If not, then there’s always Wayne.”
“We’re gonna be parents…”
“Shit, yeah, we are…”
Slowly but surely, the couple broke the news to their friends and family. Wayne was in shock, but supportive nonetheless. Steve’s mom, Pattie, was disappointed, but assured she’d get a nursery together for the little one. Then, Mr. Harrington—John—demanded that if the couple were to go through with this, then they would need to get married. He refused to have a kid that was going to be a teen parent with a bastard child.
“Dad, we’re only seventeen. We’re not gonna get married,” Stevie sighed.
“Steven– I, ugh, Stephanie, either you two get married or I give your girl– fuck, boyfriend a ride to the Planned Parenthood clinic.”
“Dad, Eddie would have to ask his uncle and he’d have to sign the consent forms. There’s a lot that would go into it. Plus, Eddie gets a say in this too.”
“I mean… if it’s our only option, then, yeah… I’d be okay with it. I’m sure I can rope Wayne into signing the papers.”
“Good. Stevie?” John raised a brow.
“Yeah, fuck it… let’s do it.”
Within the week, Stevie and Eddie were officially married—John even struck another deal that if Eddie became a Harrington, he would support them until after high school and were able to get on their feet. While Wayne wasn’t thrilled with everything happening so quickly, he was just happy that his nephew was being taken care of.
The rumor mill in Hawkins was spinning like crazy—between the two teens getting married and Eddie’s stomach getting larger and larger, they couldn’t catch a break. And before they knew it, the nine months had flown by—Eddie had gone into labor while in the middle of chemistry.
“Shit, fuck,” he cried. “Someone get Stevie!”
“Took ya fucking long enough to pop,” Jeff teased.
“Not now! Someone get my fucking wife!”
“On it!” Gareth yelled.
“Jesus Christ, c’mere, Eddie. Let’s get you down to the nurse,” Mrs. Click said.
“What the fuck is the nurse gonna do,” he sobbed.
“She can monitor you while Gareth gets Stevie.”
“I’m here, I’m here!” Stevie panted as she ran into the classroom. “Okay, baby, let’s get you to the hospital.”
“Good luck, Eddie!” the class cheered.
“Okay, one last– fuck,” he cringed. “One last tally. What does everyone think it is? Raise your hand for a boy.” A few shot their hands up. “Okay, girl?” A majority raised their hands. “Alright, I’ll be back in like a month so everyone can meet it. Okay, time to have a human shoot out of me.”
“Nice way to be modest, Ed,” Stevie said.
“Shut it and get me to the fucking hospital.”
By the time Stevie got Eddie to the hospital, he was nearly fully dilated. He was hunched over, screaming in pain as Stevie pulled onto the curb by the ER entrance.
“Ah, fuck, I read this was supposed to take hours!”
Sweat poured from his forehead as Stevie helped him into a wheelchair. Eddie was brought up to labor and delivery, hauled into a bed just in the knick of time. The nurses stripped him of his clothes, promptly unbinding his chest.
“Why-Why do you have to take that off?” he sniffed. “I-I wanna keep it on.”
“Eddie, dear, you can’t have anything constricting you. It could be dangerous.”
“Okay, Missus– sorry, Mr. Harrington, you’re nearly there. Get ready to push soon.”
“Why is it moving so fast? I thought this was gonna take like a whole day…”
“Labor varies from person to person. You just lucked out with it being quick,” the doctor explain.
“Lucked out!? The stupid thing is trying to shoot out of me!” Eddie screamed.
“Eds, breathe.”
“Shut up, Harrington! God, she’s coming out, I feel her!” Eddie shrieked. “Stevie, baby, do it for me, please.”
“I can’t, Eddie.”
“Please! I don’t wanna do this! God, I can’t do this!”
“Eddie, on your next contraction, you’re gonna push,” the doctor said.
“I can’t!” he whimpered.
“Yes, you can,” Stevie assured. “Give us our baby, Eddie.”
“Ahh, god help me!”
“Push, Ed.”
Within ten minutes, Eddie had managed to get an entire human out of him. His head hit the bed as the entire room spun. His body shook uncontrollably as he tried to adjust to the pain, blinking hard, trying to get a sense of what was going on.
“It’s a girl!” someone cheered.
“Oh, Eddie, she’s beautiful,” Stevie cried.
“Here you go, Eddie. Congrats, daddy,” a nurse beamed, placing the screaming newborn on his chest.
“Oh, my god. Hi… oh, god, hi, baby girl.”
“You did it,” Stevie beamed.
“I made this,” he panted. “I made this, Stevie. Holy shit…”
“Mom, dad, do we have a name?”
“Shit, do we?” Eddie breathed.
“Yes, we do,” Stevie giggled. “Maggie Mae Harrington.”
“Oh, yeah… sorry, my brain is mush.”
“Don’t be sorry, Eddie. You just gave birth, for Christ’s sake.”
“God, we have a kid… we’re parents, Stevie…”
“We’re parents, Eddie…”
When Eddie and Maggie were moved into a postpartum room, Stevie took it upon herself to call her parents and Wayne. Everyone poured into the room, one by one, eager to meet the new baby. Even John, who didn’t outwardly show it, was excited to meet his granddaughter.
“Here she is,” Eddie smiled.
“Wow… she’s beautiful…” John said.
“Yeah, she sure is. She has Stevie’s looks—thank god.”
“Shut up, she has your eyes,” Stevie smirked.
“She has your nose.”
“Poor thing.”
“May I hold her?” Wayne asked.
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
The adults gradually passed her around as the two teens rested against each other contently in the hospital bed. Maggie eventually drifted off to sleep in Pattie’s arms, to which the new grandmother took with stride, getting to hold the baby the longest.
“So, how’re you feeling, Ed?” Wayne asked.
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alovelettertonow · 4 months ago
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It is 10:39 PM. It is incredibly humid outside, amplifying the smells of cow manure by 1000x. While this condition is not ideal, the vapor-saturated air also brings out the delicious smell of our local chocolate factory and the sweet aroma of the apple orchard that everyone in my small central Pennsylvania town is welcome to enjoy. It is difficult to imagine that, in just 70 days, I will be moving away from the charming town I grew up in, where cows outnumber people, and the locals indulge in ‘garage parties’- the practice of setting up lawn chairs in your garage in the late evening, when the heat has finally subsided, and inviting everyone within a 5-mile radius to stop by and have a beer. In 2 months, I will be saying ‘goodbye’ to my part-time position at the local retirement home and moving to a quaint liberal arts college in New England. At first glance, the environments of these two places that I will call ‘home’ are completely different and incompatible. My home-town- extremely conservative with wide swaths of farmland and lovingly coined the “Amish capital of the world” , versus my college town- a very, very progressive, mountainous region with many cultural events and arts performances. They epitomize the difference between a “small-town” feel and a “college-town” feel. Hopefully, after being there for a few months, I will come to realize that they are not so different. And, if they are different, maybe that’s okay. My goals as I begin this blog are varied and many. First, I want to get better at writing. I have an extremely difficult time articulating my thoughts. I figure that making a coordinated effort to write might improve my skills, so I feel on-track when I begin my first semester of college. While I attempted to write in a google doc, I found I wasn’t able to hold myself accountable, and that perhaps posting on a public forum would be helpful. Next, my difficulty with articulating my thoughts, unfortunately, lead to a certain dependence on Chat GPT, undoubtedly making my writing worse that it had been before I discovered that God-forsaken app. Reason 3- I just got a new computer for college, and the keyboard is huge. I need to practice writing on a keyboard that is 1.5x wider than what I’m used to. Finally, I wanted to blog so I could share my life, give advice, get advice, and stay in touch with those at home who are interested. I know many bloggers have a certain “genre” that they stick to- they might comment on the news, spirituality, or they may even share recipes. Maybe one day I will think of a genre, but I think for now, I’ll just share about my life. Let’s start with today.
I woke up this morning at 5:15 so I could get to my 6:15 shift. Anxiety will likely be a topic I touch on quite frequently. The thought of dishing out grapefruit and prunes in the morning nearly sent me over the edge, and I couldn’t sleep. To be fair, I am a new employee- I started about 3 weeks ago. Each “number” on the schedule has different job duties, and I had never done those duties before… how was I supposed to know how many grapefruit sections to put into a dish???? It’s three. As expected, everything was just fine, although I accidentally interrupted a table while they were in the middle of praying. Sorry! I really love my job so far, and I can only hope that I keep enjoying it. When I got home, I was determined to read a good section my book, but I ended up napping. Trying to enjoy the little things that make me human. Listening to country music on the car ride home because something about the heat makes me crave a southern twang. Rushing up to my room right as I get home so I can turn on my AC and hope it cools down my room in time for bed. Sitting on the back porch with a cozy blanket, even though it is a bit too hot for that. Seeing the firefly’s twinkle in the backyard and pretending not to notice my neighbors moving around outside. Making plans with friends now that we are finally free. I am in love with life.
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Today, my best friend gifted me this plush for my dorm room. His name is Apollo. ☀️
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clovercoin · 2 years ago
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CloverCoin April 2023 Art Pack n Updates
[ ART PACK AND PATREON POST ] A pretty small art pack this month, so much... has happened? Just as soon as we think we'll be able to go back to the routine, our world blows up in a whole new way. I really can't seem to catch my breath. So big updates... Let me think here. In early April prov's father got covid either in the nursing home or at the hospital. He degraded very quickly and passed away a week or so later. We spent a lot of time offline speaking with Prov's family and making plans for them all. As we started to wrap up the family plans, Prov's work laid off a lot of people. Unfortunately Prov was also laid off. So we are currently on the job hunt but feeling really positive. I've been hoping we'd move on and.. well it just happened! So we're doing it! Prov I'm sure will have a new job in no time at all, he's quite the catch when it comes to web development!  Is that it? Nah!!! Of course not. During mid-april we noticed I started to skip meals, sleeping a lot more but not getting rest, just a lot of issues. Turns out my newly crowned tooth actually needed a root canal and I have an emergency ortho visit! I am officially all done getting my root canal and crown all patched up. I'm feeling so much better and sleeping/eating just fine again! PHEW!!! At least my bit had a positive turn around even if the bill was bigger than we'd like. Last thing to wrap up is our oldest dog Ollie seems to have some sort of respiratory infection so we've been the vet and got him on some antibotics. He's still coughing but he's doing a lot better. At the exact same time, our biggest dog Junior split a nail and it sadly got infected. Soooo another vet trip and some more antibotics (and a couple more big bills nooo). Junior is feeling so much better and his nail is healing right up! The very last update is for the patreon! HEY EVERYONE OF THE 5$ TIER AND UP HI, I'll be taking over personally for merch mail out. Because we had a hiccup in bill pay, I was not able to order the new stickers yet. But I will be ordering them on Monday/next week hopefully so there will be a sticker mail out this month but it might possibly be a little late. I will keep you all  updated about my journey as I figure it out! I will also be posting silly updates about getting my work space put together here on patreon so feel free to follow along and laugh at what a trashy mess I am!!! WISH ME A LOT OF LUCK EVERYONE I REALLY NEED IT THIS MONTH!!!! AJD . ART
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sweeterthanmydreams · 3 months ago
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Second Year: Summer (the Hemming-Byrd Legacy)
[Legacy Challenge Rules] [My Legacy Sheet] [Blank Legacy Sheet] [Intro] [Previous]
Ophelia started out wanting to help her community; rolling into her second summer, she’s finally gotten a taste of success! With her finances in order, she’s been able to make her first charitable donations to causes that she thinks can really make a difference. In addition, her island home has never looked better: though there’s still a ways to go, the trash clean up her and wife Lanuola have been doing is finally starting to show in the clean, more beautiful island paradise around them. It’s all sunshine and roses in the Hemming-Byrd house. Sunshine, roses, and surprises.
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It turns out that I did have my mods tuned correct: Lanuola’s abduction has resulted in the first pregnancy of the Legacy! It might be thirty days ahead of schedule, but she seems absolutely stoked about becoming a new parent. At least that’s one of us. Now that they’ve got more finances, I took the chance to do some large scale landscaping to blend their home in with the surrounding area. There’s just something about this lot (Admiral’s Wreckage) that looks jarring when you put a house down. Hopefully the edges of the property are a little more subtle now. Ophelia & Lanuola have managed to clean up enough around the islands that Mau Pel’am has hit the next level of conservation so the landscape improvements are well-timed.
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I also have to make a correction: the only-lonely Paparazzi in my save were actually two paparazzi, they just have the exact same haircut so I conflated them. We’ve also got the debut of a third paparazzi (who I thought was the second when writing my notes): welcome to the Save File Izumi Hasegawa. At this point, new paparazzi and fans are just popping out of the woodwork! Ophelia also did some autograph signing, most notable for little Alma Ward. According to MCCC, that is in fact Judith Ward’s daughter; and so the Ward Legacy begins quietly in the background. u-u The start of summer also marks the end of the slog that was the Bestselling Author Aspiration: Ophelia is finally free! I was so sure she was glitched, but she just suddenly started writing Bestsellers one day; thank god.
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Lanuola takes over getting art from the Hummingbird Collective placed with buyers in her new selling square; she’s working through the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration. If you want to get a better look at the table setup (and the landscaping) you can find the house on my gallery (DreamingTaffy) under the name Hummingbird Beach Year 2. Marcus Flex becomes the first member of the Hummingbird Collection to become an Elder. Since I’m planning to use Ophelia's one Potion of Youth when she reaches the end of Adulthood, he’ll pass away long before she herself becomes an elder which is a little sad. I’ve started a wall in the club hangout where I’ll memorialize club members who pass with their last painting; this will work for everyone except Duane who will break into my house constantly for a glass of milk but won’t participate in club activities. I’ll get you yet, Duane… (And I will get evidence of his annoying milk habit; stop blocking access to my fridge from across the map, Duane!)
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At 1 AM on the third day of summer it’s finally time. Lanuola has gone into labor, so wife Ophelia has taken her to the hospital; everyone here is so much more excited for this than Lanuola is. Daichi Fukuda was late to his own surgery but it’s alright: the machine got started without him; guess Lanuola is popping this thing out herself. Give a warm welcome to the first baby of the Legacy Challenge: baby Beatrix Hemming-Byrd. As an adopted daughter of Ophelia’s lineage, she will be eligible to inherit. The last hurdle she has to leap is randomizing the Child of the Island trait; secretly, I’m hoping she’ll be a spare so I don’t have to baton pass to Ophelia’s heir too soon.
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With both of their aspirations out of the way, Lanuola and Ophelia were able to start the Bodybuilder Aspiration together. They spent some time out at the gym to get a break from baby and were absolutely swamped by Ophelia’s fans. Unfortunately, they had to change venues when a werewolf decided this was a good place to rampage. Cut to six hours later in a second location, and two werewolves decided the gym was a hot spot for rampaging… If I had a nickel. Fitness adventures continued to be a hoot: Lanuola, and later Ophelia, decided that jogging in the ocean is clearly the way to go. Gotta love that Sulani patching.
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Though Ophelia thought her little alien daughter was kind of weird at first, the two have grown attached and the family only gets closer. Beatrix got to try her first baby food with each mother (papaya from Lanuola & yogurt from Ophelia) and loved them both; she has yet to try a baby food that she doesn’t like and she’s quickly running out of foods to try. At this point, I’m really hoping the trait generator will give her Foodie. In the last hours of the last day of summer, Ophelia and then Lanuola have defeated muscle cramps, werewolf attacks, and annoying glitches to conquer the Bodybuilder Aspiration together. They now will both live a very long life, even after becoming Elders and passing the Legacy down to the next generation. I look forward to having them in the household for a long time to come.
As stated before, you can find the current version of their home on the Gallery under my ID: Dreaming Taffy. The current household is called Hemming-Byrd Legacy 1.3. The current lot is called Hummingbird Beach Year 2; since it includes family photos, you'll need to check "Include Custom Content" to see it.
[Next >>]
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bloody-crowleyy · 8 months ago
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Chapter 3
“And here we have our latest invention: The Instant Clayer!” Arseli grunts, “name in editorial stages, of course!” He pulls the lever and put a bunch of clay under the machines arms. The arms work fast and precise, carving and and shaping the piece of clay into an exact copy of my face. “And…” He presses a button and it cooks the clay fast, then paints it. I stare through Arseli’s eyes, his nervous smile appearing again.
“What is our country known for, Aresli, other than the plague!” I begin to smoke a cigarette.
“Um… our weapons?”
“Yes. So my question now stands: why did you make something for art?”
“Well, uhm, sir, it’s for weapon creation. I uh… well… I um… I made this to see how it would, uhm, work? And it works splendidly so I’m going to work out the uh… what’s the word? Oh, the kinks— or quirks— of it. I forgot that blasted word, uh, so, I’m going to change it, and make it able to make weapons, King Borelius, sir.”
“Nervous?” I cough up blood and take the cigarette out to cough a bit more, then I put it back it.
“No sir.”
“Good. Now go.”
“Yes sir.” He takes his machine and frolics out, his wings surrounding him as a sort of protection.
I grab my mirror and start doing my hair, sweeping it to the left, keeping it straight, and pulling it back into a small ponytail for Denian to see. She’s going to think I look better than last time f hopefully. It’s been a year, she can’t know how much worse I’ve gotten. I stare at the photos on the walls of me and Corifael, me and Denian, me and the both of them. None of my parents, but that’s probably for the best. Corifael misses them, somehow. He was always mothers favorite, though.
“That sure looks great, sir, what’s it used for?” Denians voice echoes through the hall. I stand and walk swiftly down the hall. “Oh, bore, hi!” She smiles sweetly.
“Oh!” Arseli jumps at the sight of me, obviously fearful.
“He was just leaving, weren’t you, Arseli?” I stare him dead in the eyes.
“Mhm, yep, yes ma’am and uh, sir, I uhm, I was. I’ll go now. Goodbye.” He walks off faster than usual, leaving the castle.
“Oh, Bore, you look as handsome as ever! How long is it been?”
I cough hard, holding my hand up for her to wait a moment, “A year. It’s been a year, Denian.”
“A long year it’s been, hasn’t it? You’re pale, what’s happened to you?”
“That… plague… really messed me up. Messed up my parents worse as you could’ve guessed. I’ve… missed this. I’ve missed you, Denian. I hope your visit is longer than the last, and at least it’s for better reasons.”
“Yes, well,” she cups my face with her hands, “I’ve missed you, too,” she leans in close to my face, as if about to kiss me.
Corifael runs through the hall, ramming into paintings, tables, and finally, Denian. A guard pulls him off of her, but he doesn’t stop embracing her.
“Deni! How long it’s been! You look beautiful, did you get a haircut? New hairdresser? New seamstress or seamster? Corifael let’s go of her, crossing his arms, “You’re so short now! Did you lose… height…?”
“You’re taller, Corifael. And yes to all of those, how’ve you been?”
“Pretty good, been a bit sad since mom and dad died. Bor hasn’t been that well since you left, this is the first time he’s done his hair! Where’s Jerry?”
“I’m sorry, Cori. What’s been wrong Bor? And I left him at home, he’s being taken care of. I think he’s gonna she’d soon.”
I stare at Cori for a moment, that brat didn’t need to say anything about me. “I’m fine, Denian. My lungs just haven’t been the same since I was ill, you know?”
“Sure. So, who was that guy? He seemed sweet.”
“Arseli. He’s an inventor, makes stuff for me. Good kid, he’s about Cori’s age. He’s just anxious way too much.”
“Reminds me of you when you were younger, Bor.”
“I wasn’t that bad. You should go to your room, put your suitcase and everything in there. Your guards can sleep in the room next to you, it has multitudes of beds.” I wave her off, and she quickly walks up the stairs. I walk over to my throne again and sit down. Corifael follows her and continues speaking to her. He’s twenty and still acts like a child. Since Deni said something of it, I do now see how pale I’ve gotten. When was the last time I went outside?
A sound interrupts my thoughts as a pop goes across the castle. An explosion? A gunshot? Corifael playing around. I get up, but standing in front of me is a tall, thin, smiling man. He shoves me back onto my throne and sits on the armrest. His feathered coat hits the side of my face, and he ruffles my hair.
“Now, now, no need to be jumpy, King. We have much to discuss!” He jumps up off the chair and disappears into a shadow, the shadow moves and his glowing smile appears on the top of the throne. He then appears, dropping his hat on my head. “You seem to have quite the visitor! Princess still, isn’t she? Denian? Aren’t her parents dead though? Odd that she’s still a ‘princess’ but, hey, she likes to be called that, doesn’t she? Makes her think there’s actually someone else ‘round!” He chuckles slightly, his bright green eyes shining in the dark above me.
“What is it, Jœnjér?” I stand and turn around to look at him. He’s gone. I spin around and he’s directly behind me, now inches from my face.
“Calm down, Bor. I’m here for our… deal. Denians people haven’t stopped. And now Ruby and Damion have met Therion. Do you know how much trouble we could be in?”
“Well, it’s not us who did anything, so why would we have any trouble?”
“Oh… you know… they could find out about our deal. Maybe find out about, oh, I don’t know, what I am. And we can’t have that, now, can we?”
“No. We can’t.”
“Then keep Denian from leaving. I will deal with them. Don’t let her find o ur about anything with them. If they come here, you kill them. Alright?”
“Yes.” He disappears the moment I say it, his glowing smile disappearing with him. I sit back down and lean back on my thrown. Marcelina, a maid, walks past the room. She’s holding a bottle of wine and a glass. “Marcelina, come.” She walks over to me sheepishly.
“Yes, sire?”
“Hand me that bottle and go get another one for Denian or Corifael or whoever wants it. And bring me a cigarette, alright?”
“Yes sir.” She hands me the wine bottle and glass, I push the glass away and take the bottle. She looks down and walks away. I pop the cap off of the bottle and drink to my hearts content.
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mrmisery0 · 1 year ago
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10/9/23
Winter makes me so depressed. It gets to 4pm and it’s already dark and I feel like that there’s no day left. I’m so tired and sore constantly too. The cold this year has made my arthritis symptoms the worst they’ve ever been. At least this time I’m seeing a doctor who takes me seriously.
I’ve been trying to read again. I used to love it as a kid. I don’t know when it happened but I stopped being able to hold my attention like I used to and I couldn’t read books for ages. Last week I was out and thought I’d look in qbd quickly, partly because I’d been thinking about my job application that I put in a few days earlier for there, but also because I’ve liked the idea of reading again recently. Well I got a book, The call of the wild, and I read it all that afternoon. It was short only 90 pages or so but I was happy with myself for doing it. It wasn’t a super happy or exciting book but I sat there and read it on the bus and then on the couch and then outside with my gf and I didn’t let myself move to my phone for faster gratification. Since then I’ve bought two more books and I hope to read them soon, though I feel like I’m more of someone who likes to think they read rather than one who actually does. I mean I’ve just read one book lol I’m not back into it yet I just want to be.
The same is true with bass. I’m scared that it’s not me anymore, it’s something I want to be me and I say that it is but there’s no evidence for that. I haven’t been playing. We went out for my friends birthday to a gig and it made me so happy. I haven’t been going to gigs because it’s too fucking cold by the time they end and I have to bus home but maybe I should get a better jacket and tough it out because it made me excited about music again.
I wrote in an old journal that a new jacket is like a new identity or a new perspective and I feel like I need that! I’m feeling so stuck and miserable. The things I identify with make me feel like a fraud. I have pieces of things that I know theoretically I love and are parts of me but I never actually participate in those things. Right now I’m just a sad dude who wishes he was in a band and played bass but can’t get himself to do anything about it. I’m going to need to do something about it if I want to go to school for it next year. I’ve got less than 6 months now. I failed last year and put it off but I don’t want to put off this anymore. It’s too important to me.
Next week I’ll be one year on testosterone but I feel so depressed about how little I feel has changed. My voice has changed but not enough to satisfy me. I sound masculine but if I speak in a room of other guys I will always have the highest voice. Maybe I do need to do voice training. My friend starts t a few days after I’m one year on and I’m terrified he’ll transition so much “better” than me. He keeps saying he hopes his voice will change all the way. That it won’t just go half the way. I don’t know if he’s aware that he’s hurting my feelings but he really is. I don’t want to think I’d be so awful as to be jealous of him but I’m scared that it’ll be too much for me. Maybe it’s been my dose? The gp seems to think I’ve changed enough but I can’t help but compare myself to others. Hopefully it’ll get better. My before and after photos are almost the exact same. Maybe it’s because I’m young.
I’ve been thinking about what it would be like if we moved to Melbourne. There would be so many gigs to go to and so many cool people to meet and gf could do so many art things. It could be great. Right now it would only happen after school next year, so probably this time next year. We’d live near my aunt and I’d work in a coffee shop or a bar and do music the rest of the time. Gf would make her art and do art shows and we’d have good friends and feel comfortable.It’s a nice dream.
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I think this week I’ll try and read Maurice. At least start it. I really liked to movie when I was younger. And I’ll go look for that new jacket.
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masterwcrk · 2 years ago
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@ofcatnaps (rey), moved for beta.
if rey had any influence at all over the goings on in naboo’s palace walls, it would be influence used to give her long-time friend a well deserved rest. despite clary’s protests about not needing a break, the handmaiden had wanted nothing more than to offer her at least a moment of respite. she made a mental note to put some of clary’s favourite scented oils in the fresher after the day’s work so that even if she couldn’t take the time to properly relax she could have a few minutes in peace. deft fingers were finally complete of their task and she watched the young queen test out the balance and fit of the ornate headpiece with scrutinising gaze just in case she saw anywhere that might tug or pull thanks to a misplaced pin. thankfully, on this occasion there was only one spot that seemed like it might cause problems later in the day and rey put a hand on clary’s shoulder to steady and pause her for a moment while the former scavenger scrunched her nose and made a slight adjustment so that hopefully clary wouldn’t end up wanting to rip the thing off her head before rey could take it off more delicately.  ❝ i won’t hold you to promises about joining me, clary, only that you try to not carry the entire weight of the galaxy on your shoulders at any given moment. ❞ a request that rey knows is actually somewhat foolish, but one she makes never-the-less. with a little smile offered to her friend, she moved to stand beside her and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze of affection. another mental note was made to ask isabelle to bring the book as requested, before she settled into the place she found herself most comfortable - at clary’s side. ❝ i’ll still worry about you, especially knowing you as well as i do. i see when you’re not getting enough sleep or when you’re spending so much time reading and stewing over these policies that your eyes are as red as your hair. ❞ she teased. ❝ that’s what friends are for, you know. you keep me on as one of your staff because you know i’m here for you to still be that voice that reminds you to come back sometimes, so that’s what i’ll do. ❞ taking a long-suffering breath, rey folded her arms over her chest and glanced around the room that had become her home, ❝ you know i admire you for everything you’ve done, right? ❞
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if she stops, she won't be able to start again. that's how long stints like this go & eventually she may have to channel the queens of old & have one of her handmaidens step in as her face so she can give herself at least some breathing room away from the scrutiny of judging eyes. Clary hopes it won't come to that, though - there's still so much she has to do herself, & there's too much riding on it being pulled off delicately but also imminently. she can't ask anyone else to carry this kind of weight, not for something so inconsequential as a night off.
the adjustment helps though, & Clary finds she can stand a bit taller -- metaphorically speaking. it's deceptively light for what it is, but it's one of the most ornate pieces in the Naboo Royal Wardrobe - designed by one of Queen Amidala's handmaidens, if palace lore is to be believed. it's a wearable work of art, but that doesn't mean she enjoys wearing it any longer than she'll have to. ' you know I can't make that promise either, ' the redhead teases lightly. ' Naboo is the center of... so much, and we have much to recover given our history. ' Palpatine's shadow was long, & corrosive even still - the planet was still trying to overcome his pall.
' I know, and I appreciate you - all I do, I do because of you. ' the others, too - it was undeniably - but Rey stood out amongst them all. she remembers finding the girl on that desert outpost & bringing her home. her life was all the better for it, truly. ' when this is all over, I'll truly be able to... rest. ' the election would bring in a new Queen, for sure, but it would also leave Clary exposed so she's not even sure there will be rest even then. time would tell. ' what else is in store for us today? '
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snailvibes · 3 years ago
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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY THESE SQUIDS ARE FUCKING GAY
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bratkook · 4 years ago
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come over. (m) jjk
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pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp,  warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae​ from this promp list! ty for sending this in bby 🖤 (requests now closed)
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Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away. 
It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.
The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement. 
Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party. 
Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself. 
Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.
Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat. 
Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late. 
Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule. 
He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep. 
With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time. 
Did you really do this on purpose? 
Of course you did, you weren’t stupid. 
The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness. 
Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold. 
The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well. 
That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you. 
It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined. 
Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up. 
Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that. 
“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?
“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious. 
“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. 
“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”
You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks. 
“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”
If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end. 
As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”
The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.” 
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He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor. 
While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one. 
Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you. 
Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤
You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for. 
Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?
He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases. 
Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅
Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind. 
All according to plan. 
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Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. 
Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?
When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it. 
“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”
“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box. 
“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”
Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”
There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself. 
“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”
And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package. 
The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front. 
With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on. 
“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in. 
The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters. 
Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?
His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion. 
As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show. 
Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you. 
Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?
His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile. 
Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him. 
His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh. 
You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours. 
When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see. 
His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more. 
Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it. 
For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations. 
Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please
He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling. 
Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it. 
This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do. 
As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease. 
Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you. 
Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around. 
You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more. 
It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him. 
Y/N 7:32pm : come over
He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on. 
Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge. 
“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own. 
When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. 
It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours. 
You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck. 
The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears. 
“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water. 
The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face. 
“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find. 
“You’re fucking unreal.”
He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do. 
“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”
A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees. 
The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue. 
“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat. 
The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart. 
Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock. 
He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around. 
Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”
The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”
His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”
With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”
Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan. 
Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there. 
A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 
“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”
“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans. 
“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”
Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time. 
“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him. 
“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected. 
“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered. 
“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”
His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration. 
“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you. 
You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”
He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile. 
A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness. 
“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier. 
The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”
He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”
The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 
“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up. 
“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more. 
He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer. 
Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting. 
The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp. 
Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”
“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off. 
“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over. 
“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down. 
“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well. 
“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin. 
“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”
His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”
Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle. 
“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.  
You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair. 
“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later. 
“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”
Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”
“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”
He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned. 
“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously. 
“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”
He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic. 
“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs. 
“What?”
“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear. 
“Are you into that?”
“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it. 
That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried. 
He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”
Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”
It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck. 
5K notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 3 years ago
Text
As Soon As I Can
Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader
Request from @alienstardust​:  Umm All the angst in those childhood prompts. I’m a fan! Yes! <3 Maybe something with Nestor? 💫 thank you
I went with this prompt from This Post: When Person A and Person B were kids, Person A broke their arm and had to wear a cast for a while. To make them feel better, Person B decorated it by drawing a bunch of doodles and quotes all over it. When Person A finally got the cast off, they asked the doctor if they could keep it. Years later, Person A takes the cast to a tattoo artist and gets all of Person B’s doodles and quotes tattooed onto their arm so they can wear them forever.
Warnings: language, angst, hospitals
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: I looooooved writing this. Writing has been tough for me lately but this just felt really right. This is my first fic where I’ve done a lot of time skips within the story so hopefully it flows alright. Hope you guys enjoy! xo
General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge​ @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @queenbeered​ @sillygoose6969​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @black-repunzel99​​ @lexondeck​​​
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You and Nestor were sitting in your back yard, sprawled out together under the one tree that managed to survive so many years in the California heat. You were laying on your back, cast-bound arm lying rigidly out to the side. You were staring up through the leaves as you listened to Nestor talk.
“At least they let you pick the color,” he was next to you, laying on his stomach as he dug through his backpack.
You laugh was heavy with sarcasm, “Yea, if I’m not gonna be able to move my arm for the next eight weeks it’s the least they could fucking do.”
“You sound bitter.”
You looked over at him, “I am bitter.”
He chuckled and shook his head, he was about to come back with a witty remark when he got distracted by finding whatever he had been looking for. He smiled as he pulled it out, “Aha!” he held up his pack of Sharpies.
“What’re those for?” you nodded towards the markers.
“For your cast.”
“You’re gonna decorate my cast?” you had to laugh.
“Yea,” he was carefully choosing a few different markers to start with, “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about totally eating it falling off your skateboard the other day.”
You laughed as you reached over and shoved him with your good arm, “Shut up—like you haven’t fallen a million times.”
“No casts for me, though,” there was a cocky smirk on his face.
“No casts for me, though,” you mocked as you tried not to laugh.
You watched him in semi-silence as he started at your wrist and slowly but surely made his way up your cast, covering it with all sorts of doodles and quotes. Sometimes you forgot how artistic he could be. You went back and forth between watching him and just resting your head back and closing your eyes. Neither of you kept track of the time as he stayed sprawled on his stomach beside you. the two of you probably would’ve stayed out until dark if your mom hadn’t stuck her head out and said that Nestor’s brother was there to pick him up and bring him home. Nestor threw all of his things back into his bag before helping you up.
Once he was gone, you took some time to actually look at the cast. You smiled at the amount of work he put into something that you were only going to have for a couple months. Your fingers traced lightly over the many marker lines that now covered your cast. Your mother looked over your shoulder at the artwork, a smile passing over her lips for a moment.
“Did Nestor do that?”
You nodded, not taking your eyes off of your arm, “Yea.”
She nodded, “That was sweet of him.”
You scoffed trying to suppress the smile on your face, “I guess.”
The next eight weeks passed by. And, despite the fact that having your arm in a cast was incredibly inconvenient, it could have been a lot worse. Nestor walked with you to all of your classes, offering to carry your backpack despite the fact that you told him that your busted arm had nothing to do with your ability to carry a bag. Whenever the two of you were together and things were quiet, he would keep adding onto the tiny mural that was your cast. Sometimes you wondered how much more he could fit on it, but he always found a way. For as much as you wanted it off, you were going to miss the bonding time for the two of you. And you were going to miss the artwork, too.
“So,” the doctor smiled and nodded at you, “you are all good to go. We can get the cast off and you’ll be as good as new.”
“Yea?” the thought of having your arm back made you feel giddy.
“Absolutely.”
You felt like a new person once your arm was free of the confines of the cast. Letting out a sigh of relief, you rotated your wrist a few times and carefully ran your fingers over the freshly-exposed skin, glad to feel like you were back in control of your own body.
“I can get rid of this,” your doctor held up the cast he’d just finished so carefully removing, “Unless you want to keep it as a momento.”
“Um, actually,” you felt your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with your mother, “Could I keep it?”
The doctor nodded, smiling as he handed it over to you, “It’s quite the work of art at this point—I understand wanting to hold onto it.”
On the drive home, you felt your mother glancing over at you every couple of minutes, a knowing smile on her face. You tried to ignore it but eventually you broke.
“What?” you were careful of your tone.
She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Nothing. Just, I think it’s nice that you’re keeping it, that’s all.”
“Mhm,” you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks again, but that only made it worse.
You never told Nestor that you kept the cast. You never really knew exactly why you didn’t tell him—the two of you told each other pretty much everything else. The two of you spent almost all of your free time together, and as soon as he found out that your cast had been removed he was dragging you right back out to do things that could potentially break your arm all over again, and you let him. He never asked about the cast, so you never brought it up. There were moments, as the two of you got a little older, where you wanted to mention it to him in passing that it was something that you kept, but the moment never seemed quite right. Each time you went to clean out your room and your closet you would come across it, and each time you were faced with the decision of whether or not you wanted to keep it, and you always did. You always told yourself that you didn’t know why, but you knew.
--
“Alright,” you were trying not to let yourself get too emotional as you sat cross-legged on his bed watching him pack “You can’t do anything stupid while I’m not around to yell at you for it, alright?”
He chuckled as he shoved another shirt into his bag, “Trust me, there will be plenty of other people around to yell at me. That’s the whole point of—”
“But they can’t do it as well as I can.”
He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. He knew how upset you were despite the fact that you were still being supportive. Him going into the Navy was something that you hadn’t seen coming. The thought of him being gone for so long after the two of you had spent so much of your lives practically joined at the hip was a bit jarring. You knew the ache in your chest was caused by more feelings than you were ready to admit to him, or to yourself.
“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me.”
You huffed, “Snail mail is not the same as bothering you in person,” you flopped backwards on the bed, “And for the record I still think it’s bullshit that you don’t get to call me.”
He laughed as he stood up and sat on the bed, looking down at you, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be in basic for less time than you had that stupid cast on your arm.”
“Yea but it’s not like you’re coming right home after that.”
He nodded, his expression sobering a little as he continued to look at you, “I know.”
“You’ll come home to visit me as soon as you can?”
He chuckled, nodding, “As soon as I can.”
For a moment you thought about spilling your guts—telling him everything that you were thinking and feeling. There was something about the way that he was looking at you that made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. But the confidence that shot through you went away as quickly as it appeared, and the moment passed as he continued to pack his things.
True to his word, you got letters in the mail. You saved each one, kept them stashed away in your closet alongside the cast that was still there collecting dust even after years of being shuffled around. You sent more letters than you received, not that you really minded. You figured that he needed them more than you did.
However as the months ticked by, you waited for him to say he was coming home, but he never did. It was one thing right into the next and the more time that passed by, the more you wondered if this was how he slipped away from you, even though he swore that that wouldn’t happen. He reached out when he could, when he had the time. And you knew that he had other priorities, and realistically you did too. But there was still part of you that felt like things were changing too much.
Your heart sped up inside your chest when you got a late-night phone call from him. You scrambled to answer it, “Hello?”
“Hey,” he sounded exhausted.
“Hey,” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you spoke to him, “H-how are you?”
“I’m alright,” he sighed, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
You smiled despite the weight settling in your chest, “It’s good to hear yours too. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
You didn’t want to push and pry, but you couldn’t help asking, “When are you coming home?”
There was a long pause before he spoke up again, “I, uh, I don’t really know.”
“Don’t they give you guys leave or something?”
He let out a tired chuckle, “Yea. But, um, I’m not sure if I’m going to be coming home for leave anytime soon.”
Your heart crumped inside your chest, “Why not?”
“Got some shit that I’m working on lining up here. Doesn’t hurt to stay close.”
You hated that your bottom lip was beginning to tremble, “Right.”
He knew you too well and you could hear the shift in his tone, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” you replied immediately, “Fuck, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you, really. Keep…keep doing your thing.”
“Thank you for always being there. It’s been…it’s been nice knowing someone is in my corner when no one else seems to be,” there was a beat of silence, “You seen my family lately?”
You took a deep breath, “No. Why, everything alright?”
He sighed, “Wouldn’t know.”
You pressed your lips together into a tight line—things had never been simple for him when it came to family, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll be home to see you as soon as I can be, alright?”
Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, “Alright,” you were about to say goodbye but your brain betrayed you, “Hey, Nestor?”
“Yea?”
“I love you,” the words fell from your lips, free of their confines after so many years of locking them away.
It might’ve been you projecting, but you could’ve sworn that he let out a sigh of relief, “I love you too.”
--
That was the last thing that you’d heard from him. He went radio silent after that. You wondered if it was just you that he was ignoring, but no one seemed to have heard anything from him—his own family included. The only things that were running through your mind were terrible. All of your calls went unanswered, all of your texts went unopened. The letters that you sent didn’t get kicked back to you but you never got responses to any of them either. He had blipped off the radar seemingly without a trace and you had no idea why. You lost a lot of sleep over it but at the same time, life didn’t stop for anyone. You had to keep moving forward while a very large part of you was stuck in the past.
You were packing up your room, getting ready to move into your own apartment. You were throwing things from your closet into random bags and boxes—organization had never been your strong suit. As you were leafing through everything, pulling things down off the top shelf of your closet, you were smacked in the face with a stack of papers. You managed to catch them before they hit the ground, tears instantly springing into your eyes when you realized what they were. Your heart sped up inside your chest as you stood on your tip-toes, reaching for the very back of the shelf. The feeling of the plaster underneath your fingers sent a shock through your body as you pulled it towards you. Looking over it, you were bombarded with an onslaught of memories.
Packing fell by the wayside as you sat on your bed, reading through the letters and looking over all the artwork that was still holding up on the cast. How you managed to keep your tears from falling, you didn’t know.
There was a light knock on your door and you looked up, trying to make yourself look much less upset than you were. The smile immediately dropped from your mother’s face when she saw what you were doing, how it was upsetting you. She leaned against the doorframe as she tried to figure out what to say to you to try and make things better.
“I’m sorry, honey,” her tone was sincere.
You shook your head as you set your cast to the side, “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You hadn’t really spoken much to her about it all—there wasn’t a whole lot to say. You didn’t have any answers and with each day that went by it was less likely that you would ever get them. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was more reassuring for you that no one had heard from him, not just you.
“There’s nothing to talk about. He just fucking disappeared, I guess. I just need to accept it and get on with my life.”
“He was your best friend—you’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”
Even though you knew it, it was nice to hear her say it to you. Wiping the tears from your eyes before they could stain your cheeks, you nodded, “I know.”
She lightly drummed her fingers on the door frame, “You keeping those?”
There was a long pause before you finally nodded, “I think so.”
She nodded, “I’ll go grab you another box.”
--
“This thing looks like it’s been through the wringer,” your tattoo artist chuckled as she looked over the cast you’d brought with you.
You managed a smile, “Because it has. I’ve had that thing since I was in, fucking, like eighth grade I think? Long time.”
“What made you decide to get this done now?”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. Figured it’ll be better than moving it from one closet to the next over the course of my life.”
You could tell by the look on her face, that she wanted to ask for the story behind it all. But the fact that you didn’t offer it up, made her not pry. You’d always been open so if you were keeping something to yourself, she respected that. The two of you talked about the logistics of it, and the changes you want to make to clean it up a little bit. You were excited to come back and get it done, though.
Despite the wait, your excitement and nervousness about coming back didn’t fade. You didn’t regret the decision, but it was still nerve-wracking as you got ready to sit down in the chair. She had you look over the pattern she’d drawn up, and when you gave her the okay she laid the stencil out on your arm and got to work. You watched her as she brought it all to life—it was a little cleaner and more grown-up than the original scribbles and doodles, but it felt right. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes but it wasn’t because of the physical pain of getting the tattoo.
She was wrapping it up in saranwrap as she gave you the run-down of taking care of the tattoo. You’d heard the spiel before but you still listened anyway. You had a hard time taking your eyes off of the artwork as you made your way back out to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you let out a sigh as you tried to inspect the ink as best you could through the wrap around your arm.
The next day, you were putting on a fresh wrap over your tattoo after your shower when you heard your phone buzzing in the next room. With a heavy sigh, you slapped a piece of tape onto the wrap and scrambled to get to your phone before you missed the call. Looking down at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number. But it was an off-hour for a scammer to be calling so you answered it on a whim. Worst case scenario you would just hang up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Rita and I work at Imperial Hospital. I’m looking for Ms. Y/N?”
“Um, speaking?” you had no idea where this was going.
“Good morning. Someone was admitted and you are their only emergency contact—no next of kin listed. Do you know a Mr. Nestor Oceteva?”
Your heart dropped into your stomach, “Yes,” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes I do. Is he alright?”
“He’s going to be fine,” her tone was calm enough to give you the smallest sliver of reassurance, “But we do need you to come in and answer some questions for us. He’s been in and out of it and we need someone who can give us reliable information.”
“O-okay. Yea. Yea I’ll leave right now. It’ll be about an hour or so before I get there though. Is that alright? He’s going to be okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s going to be fine. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”
You hung up the phone and started flying around your apartment to get ready. You had no idea what you were about to be walking into but at this point you didn’t care. All these years you’ve been wondering about him and he was two towns over. You were as angry as you were relieved.
The line of questions that the nurses asked you seemed endless. You knew that it was all important but there was nothing that you wanted more than to be in the room and see that it really was him, that this wasn’t just some cruel trick from the universe.
Finally, the nurse started walking you back. You only heard half of what she was saying to you about his condition as the two of you approached the room. You heard that he was stable and the rest didn’t really matter to you. your hands were trembling as she gestured to the door to his room, telling you that she would give you a few minutes to yourselves.
You slowly opened the door and a sob lodged itself in your throat as you looked at him. He was passed out, whether the sleep was genuine or from the meds you didn’t know. Truthfully, it was almost difficult to see that it was the Nestor you knew and loved—but you could still see it. Underneath the cuts and scrapes, beneath the braids and the tattoos, there was still your Nestor. The man you knew all those years ago was somewhere underneath it all.
Walking over, you collapsed in the chair next to his bed. You reached out and took his hand in your own, seeing the scars and scabs that covered his knuckles. Whatever he’d been doing all those years, it wasn’t treating him well. You let out a shaky breath as the tears started to fall. You tried to keep your emotions bottled up and quiet, but you couldn’t. There were too many there that you had been battling with and pushing down over the years.
Your crying made him stir. With a quiet groan of pain he opened his eyes and turned to look and see who was in the room with him. His entire body went stiff as his eyes flew completely open, unable to believe that you were sitting there with him.
“H-holy shit,” he coughed, trying to sit up, “Y/N?”
He was conscious and able to speak, so you punched him in the upper arm, “As soon as I can my ass, Nestor.”
He winced and smiled, and you could see all of the motions in his eyes, “I’m…I’m sorry.”
“You fucking should be.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
There were a few beats of silence and then he heard the crinkling of the wrap on your arm as you crossed them and he nodded towards it, “Fresh?”
Heat instantly flooded to your face and you fought the urge to get up and run out of the room, “Got it yesterday.”
“Can I see?”
You hated that he was talking to you like everything was normal, but you couldn’t lie and said that you didn’t miss it. Taking a deep breath, you laid your arm down on the hospital bed for him to inspect. A smile instantly took over his features when he saw what it was. He looked up at you, and when he saw the happiness and hurt both in your expression, his smile dulled a little bit.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What the fuck, Nestor?”
“I know, I know. I should’ve said something.”
“Uh…yea.”
“When they let me out of here, will you let me take you somewhere and tell you all about it?”
“I mean. I guess. But only because I’m nosey,” you managed a smile through the tears.
“I love you.”
The words made your heart skip a beat in your chest, “I love you too.”
“That’s way less clunky than a cast,” he tapped the plastic wrap.
You smiled, wiping the tears away, “Yea, I guess so.”
“I can’t believe you still have the same number after all these years.”
You paused, looking down at your hands, “I kept it in case your ass decided to smarten up and call me one of these days.”
“Hospital calling you on my behalf doesn’t count?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “No. No it doesn’t.”
He reached over and clasped your hand in his, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”
With a deep sigh, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his forehead, careful to miss all the scrapes, “Me too.”
There was so much more to be said, but it could wait. You tried to soak up the feeling of his hand over yours, smiles appearing on both of your faces despite the lost time and the gravity of the situation. A lot of things had changed, but as you felt the heat from his palm and the way his thumb traced back and forth over your hand, you knew the important things were still exactly the same.
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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years ago
Text
Kismet
ADG Jimin
masterlist
hello my darlings! here’s an update to tide you over till I get back! Hope you all enjoy, this has been a fun one to write.--- chaotic puff
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Jimin stared out the window of his city apartment. He’d had a long day. One of his girls had gotten out of line and had to be dealt with. He never enjoyed having to dispose of the girls, but there were rules that had to be followed. This one just didn’t seem to understand that. She’d been a recent edition to his higher class girls, and she’d let that go to her head, especially as there was still a vacuum left behind from Sen’s resignation. Stupid girl thought that she could be Suga’s new go to, possibly even Hoseok’s. 
The chic didn’t seem to have the brains needed to listen and comprehend the news that Suga had a wife or that fact that Hoseok had a fiancee, and she’d acted on the idiot idea that she could be a mistress to one of the big bosses. The disrespect of approaching one of the big bosses, unasked, just couldn’t be tolerated especially when they took offense. Yoongi might not have admitted to himself that he was in love with his wife, but he was a faithful man and the mere assumption that he would take a mistress was insulting. Suga was not a man you wanted to insult. 
“Jimin?” a soft voice called out before a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and resting her cheek against his back. “Are you okay, babe?” 
He sighed forcing himself to relax into her arms. It was okay. Everything was okay when he was with her. “I’m fine, kitten. Just a little stressed.” he promised, lifting one of her hands to place a kiss on her palm. He pulled her hand back, turning it to admire the large ring that sat proudly upon her left hand.  
“Come back to bed.” she purred, as Jimin pulled her in front of him. “I can do that thing you like.” she offered with a playful grin.
He leaned down with a grin of his own, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose which made her face scrunch up in that adorable way he loved. “Let’s go back to bed.” he agreed, abruptly swooping her up into his arms earning himself a startled but delighted squeak. 
“Jimin!” 
“You know I love you right?” he asked as he set her down on their bed, hovering over her, assuring himself that she was still here with him, that she was his. 
“Of course I do.” she gently brought her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I love you too.”  the words flowed out as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and he could only hope it stayed that way. 
“What’s going on, Jimin?” she asked, staring up at him in worry. “You’ve been out of it today. Is everything okay at the office?” 
Seori didn’t know about his work. She didn’t know about his life outside of the carefully constructed narrative he’d fed to her since they’d first met. With any luck she wouldn’t have to know, not for a long long time, hopefully after they were married and maybe even after they had kids… definitely after they had kids, but that was a fairly long way off still. He’d only just put a ring on her finger. He couldn't risk anything going wrong. She was so good, too good and nothing like the women he worked with on a daily basis. He knew that if she found out who he really was, what his job entailed, she would leave him, so he needed to make sure that never happened. 
“Everything’s fine, kitten.” he assured, resting his forehead against hers, his lips just barely brushing against hers. Her fingers gently carded through his hair, just the way he liked. “Just a long day.” 
“Don’t overwork yourself, okay? I don’t know what I would do without you.” she hummed, lightly brushing the tip of her nose against him. 
“I promise.” he grinned, leaning down to start trailing kisses up her neck, lightly brushing away the gossamer fabric of her skimpy robe. “Now what was that about you doing that thing I like?” 
----
The first time Jimin had seen Son Seori had been at a gallery event that Taehyung had dragged him to. There were plenty of beautiful women there, and Jimin dealt with beautiful women on a daily basis, but Seori had a softer look than he was used to and a far more professional one. 
She held her head high with the self assurance of a woman who knew she belonged, a woman who knew what she was doing. It wasn’t the same confidence he saw in her girls. This had nothing to do with sex appeal. She knew she was beautiful. That was clear in the way the dress hugged her figure and the way she moved. It had nothing to do with that though. It had everything to do with being in her element. Here among the paintings and the artists, she was completely at ease. She was a goddess among men, and it confused him how no one else seemed to notice that.
No one was looking at her. No one was falling at her feet. How didn’t they notice the way the flyaway strands of hair fell from her updo to lay enticingly on her neck? How did they miss the elegant tilt of her head as she stared at a painting. How could they all be so incredibly dense? Could they not see that this was a woman made to be worshiped? But that was all the better for him. If they wouldn’t take notice of such an angel, he would. 
Jimin made his way to her side, two glasses of the proffered pomegranate spritz in hand. 
“Drink?” he offered with a charming smile, bringing her attention to him, bringing those dark, fathomless eyes to focus on him. 
“Thank you.” and then she smiled, and the whole world stood still. 
After that they began to see each other more often. Jimin would send flowers to the gallery where she worked. She was the curator, and he couldn’t have been more proud. He took her to coffee, to art exhibitions, to fancy dinners, carefully wooing her until he was able to call her his. 
The day she agreed to move in with him was one of the happiest of his life, but there was always a nagging worry at the back of his mind. What if she found out? What if she left him? To prevent one, he had to prevent the other, and so he weaved a carefully constructed web of lies to keep her by his side. 
To her he was a businessman, a very successful businessman. She knew nothing about the girls or the drugs, nothing about the underbelly of society, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. They were happy within his web of lies. They were safe, and he didn’t want to think of what would happen when that blissful ignorance was no longer there. 
----
“Jimin?” Seori called, entering the apartment looking for her fiance after having a lovely coffee date with a friend and talking over the upcoming showcase at the gallery. “Jimin, are you home?” 
“In here, babe!” Jimin called from the direction of the bedroom, and Seori started to make her way there, only to stop as Jimin’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. 
“Babe, your phone is ringing.” There wasn’t an answer from him, so she made her way to the phone and answered, not even noticing that it was his work phone, a phone she wasn’t supposed to touch let alone answer. “Hello?” She’d barely gotten the work out before the person on the other line started talking in a rush. 
“Jimin!” the voice on the other side of the line barked. “I need you to get here ASAP. Aerie decided to be a little feisty today, and she stabbed me in the leg. She was trying to get out, the little bitch.” the deep voice on the other end of the line growled freezing Seori in place. “I need you to get your ass over here and help.” 
“I’m sorry.” she stuttered. “I think you have the wrong number.” 
The phone was ripped from her grasp as an arm wrapped around her waist. “Tae?” Jimin asked, listening with a stony expression she was not used to as the man on the other end of the line spoke. “I’ll be there soon.” he sighed, tightening his grip around her slightly. “Call Jin to help with the bleeding.” 
“Jimin.” her voice was barely above a horrified whisper as he hung up the phone. “Jimin, what’s going on? Who was that?” 
“Baby, you know you’re not supposed to answer my work phone.” He turned her around, gently cupping her face as he shushed her, softly scolding her. “It’s alright. It’s just a colleague. It’s fine.” His words did nothing to make her feel better. 
“What did he mean stabbed? Is he keeping a woman hostage? What the hell, Jimin?” Jimin didn’t like the way she was looking at him. She’d never looked at him like that before. She’d never been afraid of him before, and seeing her beautiful eyes looking at him with so much fear cut him like a knife.
“It’s okay, baby.” he promised, desperately trying to find a way out of this situation. She wasn’t supposed to answer his phone. She wasn’t supposed to know yet. “I promise it’s okay. I have to take care of this, but I’ll be home soon, and we can talk about this, okay?” 
She brushed his hands away, stepping back. “What the hell are you involved in, Jimin?” 
“Baby… baby, please.” he reached for her, but she flinched back. “Just… just stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back, okay?” 
“No.” she shook her head. “You explain now. What the fuck are you involved in?” Her voice rose, and Jimin winced. It was rare that she raised her voice let alone cursed. 
“Baby…”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” she crossed her arms under her chest, leveling him with a hard stare. “What is going on?” 
“Seori-ah…” he took a step forward reaching for her, but she stepped back, her jaw clenched in a way that told him that she was furious. “Just let me explain…” 
“Fine.” she huffed. “Talk.” 
“It’s my job, baby. I shouldn’t have lied to you, and I’m sorry for that, but I didn’t want to put you in danger.” 
“Danger? You work at an office…” she blinked slowly before cursing under her breath. “You don’t work at an office.” he shook his head guiltily. “Organized crime?” 
“It’s not as bad as you think, baby.” 
“And just how bad is it, baby?” The endearment was colored with a curt sort of sarcasm that didn’t sit well with him, but she had every right to be upset at the moment. He was prepared for her to be upset, but he had planned for her to find out when they were in a controlled environment, and not when he needed to go take care of a problem at work. This was not how he wanted her finding out. 
He sighed, running a hand through the dyed blond strand of his hair. Typically she would have stepped forward to smooth down the now mussed hair, but she made no such move. “Have you heard of BTS?” 
“No…” the word was barely breathed out as she made the connection. “Tell me you’re… you’re not?” she hissed, fighting back tears. Of all the groups he could have been affiliated with, BTS was the worst of them.
“Baby…” he stepped forward again, but she wasn’t having it.
“Jimin…” she whispered horrified, backing up even further until she was pressed against the counter. “Who are you?” 
“I’m Jimin. I’m your Jimin.” he urged, matching the distance between them to press a kiss to her forehead despite the way she flinched away from him. “Just stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back, just stay here.” 
“You lied to me.” 
“I know.” 
“You said you loved me.” 
“I do.” he was fervent, nearly desperate as he held her shoulders. “I have always loved you.” 
“Just go.” she whispered, pushing him away.” 
He hated to leave her, especially like this, but his brother needed him. For now he would have to trust that she trusted him enough to stay and hear him out. Apparently, she did not. 
---
Seori was reeling. In a matter of minutes her entire life had been turned upside down. Her fiance wasn’t who he said he was, and nothing made sense anymore. He was a criminal. He admitted to being a criminal despite knowing her feelings on organized crime. 
He knew that her father had been collateral damage in a mob hit when she was a teen. Her oldest brother had been killed in the line of duty. He’d been a cop. Her other brother was a cop working in the organized crime unit, working to bring down the same people who’d ripped their family apart. Jimin knew all of this, and he never said a thing. He just continued to lie to her, to string her along, and she believed every lie he’d fed to her like an idiot. 
She should have known. There had been signs. Two and a half years they’d been together, of course there were signs, but she’d ignored them all. She ignored late nights, the vague descriptions of his work. She’d ignored the less than plausible explanation for the cut to his forehead just last year. He’d even gone on a surprise business trip right after. She knew something wasn’t right, and yet she’d ignored it all, because she loved him. She loved him, and she trusted that he wouldn’t lie to her. It was naïve. Worse, it was stupid, and she should have known better. 
It didn’t take her long to pack up the essentials, things she didn’t want to leave behind: a pressed flower from the first bouquet Jimin ever brought her, the exhibit list from their first date, things she couldn’t bear to part with despite what she knew, and then she was left staring at an apartment wondering if she was making the right decision. 
He’d asked her to stay. He’d begged her, but she couldn’t. Knowing what she knew, she couldn’t stay. What was she supposed to tell her family if she stayed? How would she explain to her mother, to her brother how she was involved with Jimin? Or was she supposed to lie to them for the rest of her life too? No. She couldn’t do that. She loved Jimin, but she didn’t trust him anymore. She couldn’t stay. 
She left the apartment leaving behind a note and her engagement ring, and she could only pray that Jimin would understand. He probably wouldn’t. She knew that. Jimin loved with every fiber of his being, and this would wreck him. She had to do what would be best for her though, and that wasn’t Jimin anymore.
Seori called a cab and made her way home to her mother’s house. It was the only place she could go. Her mother wouldn’t ask questions. She’d make her a bowl of soup, and tell her she looked too thin, and she’d leave her to grieve. If there was one thing her mother understood, it was grief. 
“Eomma?” Her mother opened the door, ever cautious after the loss of her husband and oldest child. 
“Seori-ah.” her mother opened the door all the way, opening her arms already knowing something was wrong. Seori dived into her mother’s arms, abandoning her luggage as she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, my girl?” 
“Jimin and I broke up.” she whimpered as her mother stroked her hair. 
“Come.” her mother ordered, ushering her into the house. “I’ll make tea.” 
There was something so odd and yet incredibly comforting about being home again. She was back in her old room. She was helping her mother cook, she was getting picked on by her brother, and much like always, no one was talking about the problem. Neither of them pried into why she was home instead of with Jimin. Granted, neither of them knew Jimin well so they didn’t have a high opinion of him, especially since he managed to convince her to move in with him.
 She could count the number of times Jimin had met her family on one hand and still have fingers left over. It made sense now. Why would a mobster in one of the most feared gangs in all of Asia want to spend time with a cop, especially one worked in the organized crime division? It begged the question of why he had even pursued her to begin with. Was she a pawn to keep an eye on her brother? Was he just that stupid that he would date a cop’s sister? Had he actually loved her? None of it made sense, and she didn’t think it ever would. 
She’d turned off her phone when she’d gone home. She was sure that Jimin had tried to call, but she didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. She didn’t want to be swayed by whatever apologies he offered.She’d even gone so far as to take time off work in case he went looking for her at the gallery. Despite knowing what she knew now, she still loved him. She loved him, but she couldn't be with him. 
“Hey, sis?” her brother popped his head into her room. “I’m ordering chicken and beer. You want some?” 
“Sure.” she unfolded herself from her seat and followed him out. What better way to forget her sorrows than to get drunk and eat chicken with her brother? 
---
It had been an awful day, an awful day made worse by Hobi’s girl escaping and then Y/N going into labor. He couldn’t do anything about the labor, and Iyla was back where she belonged, but all of that on top of Tae’s stabbing had made for a long, long day, one he couldn’t afford. He had Seori waiting at home for him, confused and angry, and he needed to be with her. He needed to explain what was going on. 
He was tired and grumpy and already so much later returning home than he wanted to be, but he didn’t want to return to her empty handed, not after the mess he’d left behind. He got home with flowers in hand, ready to see his fiancee, but the house was dark and quiet. 
“Seori?” he called while taking off his shoes. “Baby?” he called again, walking further into the apartment. “Baby, I know you’re mad, but I can explain.” Still there was nothing. “Baby?” 
A flash of something sparkling in the dim light caught his attention, bringing him to the kitchen counter. Sitting there was a piece of paper and the engagement ring he’d slipped onto her finger just last week. A cold, horrible feeling swept through him. It couldn’t be.
In a panic, Jimin ran through the apartment looking for her. The bed was made with no sign that she’d slept there. A good portion of her clothes were missing from the closet. Her luggage was gone, and yet he still held out hope that she was just hiding somewhere, that this was all a horrible misunderstanding. 
She wouldn’t leave him. She’d promised to stay. She’d promised to hear him out, and she loved him. She loved him just as much as he loved her. Of that he was certain. She was just confused and frightened. That was alright. He could fix that. He just had to find her first. 
“Seori!” he called out desperately, gripping his hair in frustration. “Seori, please!” 
But there was no response. The apartment reamined horribly silent and still. He finally had to admit that she was gone. He was quick to run back to the kitchen, back to the ring and the note. He was desperate as he scanned over her words, and it was definitely her words. That was her handwriting. The quick, cute strokes of the letters were something he knew well from the notes and letters they’d exchanged throughout the years. Despite knowing that though, he still found it hard to believe that this was from her. The words on that page told him that she’d left him, and that she wasn’t coming back, and he just couldn’t believe that. 
He tried calling her, over and over again, but each time, her phone gave him the same automated message stating that the number he was trying to reach was unavailable. She was gone, and he couldn’t even call her. He couldn’t make sure she was okay. 
Without thinking, Jimin picked up a vase resting on the counter and flung it across the room, watching it shatter against the far wall. It was the beginning of a long rampage. Every picture of them was left broken. The flowers he’d brought home for her lay in a wilted trampled heap on the ground. The clothes of hers that remained in their closet were ripped and scattered across the bedroom floor. By the time that Jimin had worked through his tantrum not one corner of the apartment was left untouched by his rage. 
He sat on the floor, feet bleeding from the broken glass that seemed to litter the entire apartment in varying amounts. The only thing left untouched was the ring, her ring. It sat forlornly in Jimin’s hands as he stared at it. He’d had it specially made for her. He couldn’t give just any ring to someone as divine as Seori. He’d been sure to design a ring that was as lovely as she was and unique enough to speak to her artistic soul. It had turned out to be the perfect ring for her, and he’d been so incredibly proud to be able to place it on her finger. It had been blissful, but it was equally heart rending to see it now cold and abandoned just like he was. And yet it had the audacity to sparkle in the dim light when he felt like all the light had been sucked from the world. 
He wanted to throw it across the room, to let it join the rest of the mess. He wanted to destroy it, but he couldn’t. This was Seori’s ring, and it would sit on her finger again. Seori would be with him again. Eventually, Jimin picked himself up from the floor and began to clean the mess he’d created. He didn’t want Seori to come back to such a mess. She always kept their home so nice. He didn’t want her to see this. She’d come home again. She had to. 
Jimin tried to reach her for days. He went to the gallery. He called. He even tried to send her emails, but there was no sign of her. He hoped, for the first few days,  that she would return home, that she’d only gone to cool off, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t return, not to work and not to their home.  
He knew she had probably gone to her mother’s house, but he couldn’t follow her there. Her family wasn’t particularly welcoming to him. The loss of both the father and eldest son had hardened them, and Chansol, her brother, was naturally wary due to his work. They didn’t know him or like him well enough to allow him access to her, and breaking into a cop’s house was exactly the kind of trouble that he’d promised Namjoon he wouldn’t get into when he’d first started dating Seori. He’d promised not to do anything that would endanger himself or BTS. 
He’d been practically feral the first week without her. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t work. And all the time he held out hope that she’d come back to him of her own will, but she didn’t, and it rekindled his rage. Although now it found a new outlet. 
It was all Taehyung’s fault. If Taehyung hadn’t called, if he had been able to control his woman, none of this would have happened. Seori would be safe at home with him and none the wiser about what he did for a living. It was all his fault, and Jimin was sure to let him know. 
“Jimin!” Tae yelped as the shorter man slammed him against the wall. “What are you doing?” 
“It’s your fault!” he screamed practically vibrating with rage. “It’s your fault she’s gone!” 
“What are you talking about?” Tae hissed, wincing as he began to feel the bump that had formed on the back of his head only to groan in pain as Jimin’s fist connected to his face. “That the hell, Park?” 
“If you could keep your bitch under control, none of this would have happened.” 
“Is this about Seori?” Tae’s lips pulled down in a frown as the pieces fell into place. “Jimin, I had nothing to do with her leav…”
“If you hadn’t called…” Jimin hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you hadn’t called, she’d still be home with me.” 
Taehyung sighed, pushing Jimin away from him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, but it’s not my fault she left. You should have locked her down a long time ago.” 
“She wasn’t going to run. She loves me.” his fists remained clenched by his side as he glared at his friend. 
“She was going to find out eventually. You knew she wasn’t going to like this.” 
“I was supposed to have time!” Jimin snapped, rage bubbling up again as he tugged on his hair, pacing back and forth. “I was supposed to have time.” he repeated, voice softer this time. 
“What’s going on?” Tae asked, approaching him cautiously. 
Jimin flopped down into a chair with a groan. “I can’t reach her. Her phone is shut off. She hasn’t come home. She’s not going to work. I don’t know what to do.” 
Tae sighed sitting down next to him. “We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far. Her whole family is in Seoul.” 
“Her family doesn’t like me.” 
Taehyung snorted. “They don’t have to. Look at Iyla and Y/N. I don’t think either of them like Namjoon or Hoseok.” Jimin agreed with a half-hearted chuckle. “I can try to track her for you.” Tae offered, rubbing the back of his neck guilty. “If she’s smart she’s probably changed phones by now.” 
“You’d do that?” 
“Of course I would.” Tae grinned, the thought of a challenge lighting up his eyes with fiendish delight. “Anything for family.”
 And so Jimin had to start planning. He wasn’t about to let her go. They were meant for each other, and he knew that she knew it too. She just needed a little push to come to the right decision. Seori was his angel, but he was willing to drag her down to hell if it meant keeping her by his side, and she would be by his side again.
It took Taehyung no time at all to track her down, and even less time to be able to mirror her phone to his. Bugging her new apartment took a little more time and planning. They had to wait until she wasn’t home, and everything needed to be placed so that she wouldn’t notice it. But it was more than a relief for him when he could finally see her again. Yes, it was through a computer screen or his phone, but she was there. She was safe, and it would have to do until he could bring her home. 
Taehyung had been right. He should have brought her to their permanent home ages ago. She would have been safer there. She never would have had the opportunity to leave him, but he’d rectify that mistake this time around. She was just frightened. Everything would be better once she was home. First he had to make sure their house was ready for her though. 
He didn’t spend any time at the house at the estate. Each of them had a house there. Namjoon’s was the largest as it was the main building. He made sure each of them had their own home within the safety of the compound, little annexes for everyone, but it was rare for them to inhabit those homes before they established a family for themselves. Recently, most of those houses had gained permanent inhabitants. His would too, and he was sure Seori was going to love it. 
He plastered the walls in art. He made sure that their garden was in perfect order. He even made sure she had a room to  paint in. It had the best light of any room in the house and overlooked the garden beautifully. It had been a long time since Seori had had time to focus on her own artwork, but that wouldn’t be a problem once she was home. She wouldn’t need to work anymore. 
In time, everything was ready for her to come home. There was just one last problem that Jimin had to take care of, that pesky brother of hers. 
Chansol was always an annoyance in their relationship, and Jimin couldn’t simply whisk his love away when Chansol would cause a fuss within the police department if she went missing. Namjoon wouldn’t allow such a fuss. It was too dangerous for the family, but Jimin had a plan that would suit everyone. He just needed to put it into action.
Chansol wasn’t a hard man to track down, especially not with Jimin’s connections. It wasn’t even hard to get him alone. For a minute Jimin wondered how he’d even become a cop with what seemed like next to no observational skills or sense of self preservation. How could he not notice himself being herded into a trap? And was he really stupid enough to take an anonymous meeting with no backup? It was stupid on Chansol’s part, but it made Jimin’s all the easier. 
“Chansol!” he cheered striding into the warehouse as though it were a five star restaurant. “It’s good to see you again.” A cheshire grin spread across his features as he watched the grimace flash across his brother-in-law’s face. Chansol reached for his gun, and Jimin sighed tiredly. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It would make my hyung very upset.” almost immediately a red dot flashed across Chansol’s chest, stilling his movements. Yoongi was an excellent shot, and more than willing to help him. Chansol would be dead in less than a minute if he so much as made the wrong move.
“What do you want, Park?” 
“I would have thought that was obvious.” he rolled his eyes, already tired of speaking with the other man. He’d never liked Seori’s brother. 
“All this for my sister?” Chansol scoffed, sending Jimin a glare. “I have better things to do with my time than play your games.” 
“I think you know who I am by now. Do you really want to insult me?” There was no movement from the cop, just the continued withering glare. “No? Then I suggest you watch your tone. I don’t need you alive, but it would make this all so much simpler.” 
“What do you want?” he growled, bristling at the threat. 
“Nothing that isn’t already mine.” he shrugged, beginning to leisurely circle the other man. “The real question is what I can do for you.” 
“What do you mean, Park?” 
“I have some information I think you would be interested in.” 
“And why would I take anything from you?” he spat glaring at the other man despite the fact the sniper’s laser was still firmly fixated on his chest. 
“Because you want to know who killed your father and brother.” Jimin watched with satisfaction as her brother stiffened, eyes going wide with shock, and a spark of yearning entering his expression as well. “How long have you been searching for answers? I can give those two you. You just have to do one little thing for me.” 
“What do you want?” 
“Your cooperation.” 
“I’m a police officer, Park. I’m not going to cooperate with you. So you can leave me and my family alone, and go to hell.” 
Jimin cocked his head to one side. “Don’t you want to avenge your father? Your elder brother? I can give you the bastards who killed them on a silver plate. I just need a little cooperation from you, but I guess you aren’t such a good son after all.” he mused nonchalantly, even though he was watching the other man’s every movement and expression like a hawk. “What would your poor mother say?”  
That did the trick. Jimin could see immediately when something seemed to snap in Chansol. He was a dutiful son. His entire career was focused on bringing down the people who had killed his father and brother, taking care of his mother. He’d done everything for them, and he couldn’t allow an opportunity to avenge them to slip through his fingers.
“What do you want from me?” 
Jimin smiled in triumph. “BTS wants a man on the inside.” 
“I can’t…” 
“Of course you can.” he scoffed, elegantly waving him off. “You’re a subpar cop at best. You’ll be able to do much more for your family working for us than you would bumbling around on your own.” 
“Fine.” Chansol agreed through, gritted teeth.
“And I want your sister back.” It didn’t escape his notice how Chansol seemed to recoil from this. 
“Seori is…”
“She’s already mine. There’s been a slight misunderstanding though.” 
“I can’t…” 
“Your sister and your cooperation, or no deal. If I walk out of here without your agreement. I will personally make sure you never find who killed your family.” 
“Fine.” Chansol agreed, determination hardening his features. “Take her. Just give me the bastards who killed my father and Chanho.” 
---
The first few weeks had been painful. She cried. She drank beer and ate chicken with her brother. She helped her mother cook, and she tried to forget Jimin. It was a task easier said than done. Two and a half years together could not be forgotten in a matter of weeks. He could not be forgotten in a matter of weeks, but Seori couldn’t hide at her mother’s forever. She had work, and she needed to get back to the real world, to rebuild her life. 
She got a new phone and changed her number so that Jimin couldn’t contact her. She found a little apartment not too far from the gallery, and she went back to work. She’d even gotten a cat to keep her company. After so long with Jimin, it was odd to be alone. Leo, named for Leonardo Da Vinci, helped with that. He was a surprisingly affectionate feline, almost clingy, but she loved him. He filled a spot in her life that had been left empty after Jimin, and she needed that. Eventually she fell into a routine- go to work, come home, feed the cat. It was all so quiet and surprisingly normal. 
Her coworkers told her that Jimin had dropped by nearly every day while she was gone, but he hadn’t been by in a while. It gave her hope that maybe he’d gotten the hint and was going to leave her alone. She missed him, but it was better this way. 
She was almost done for the day, packing up her things when her brother walked through the door of the gallery. 
“Chansol?” she called looking up from her bag. “What are you doing here?” 
“I thought I’d walk you home.” he told her with a smile, though something seemed off about it. Chansol had never walked her home before. 
“You don’t have to do that. Besides, aren't’ you supposed to be working?” her brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not allowed to walk my little sister home and ask how her day has been?” 
“You never have before.” 
He shrugged, still looking unusually nervous. “I actually had somewhere I wanted to take you before I took you home.” 
“Really?” she asked skeptically as she slipped on her coat, pulling her out from under the collar. He never took her anywhere except for chicken and beer. It was about the only thing they did together. She loved her brother, but she didn’t have a lot in common with him, not like he and Chanho had. “Alright then.” she agreed if not a little reluctantly. 
She allowed her brother to lead her out of the gallery. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to show her, but she trusted him, that is until he led her to an alley. 
“What’s going on?” She asked, looking at the dead end with suspicion. 
“I’m sorry, Seori. I’m so sorry.” 
“What are you sorry for?” She really didn’t like the sound of that. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Chansol?” 
“Noona!” a new voice called as a tall very buff man with a bunny smile appeared at the entrance to the alleyway. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Hyung has been keeping you all to himself.” he pouted, and it only added to her confusion. 
“Chansol?” 
“I’m really sorry.” 
The strange man took her arm firmly only heightening her unease. “Don’t worry. Hyung will take really good care of her.” “Chansol, what did you do?” she screamed as the man took hold of her other arm, effectively holding her in place as she struggled against him. 
“I’m sorry. I had to. You have to understand that I had to.” he pleaded, taking a step towards her, but stopping at the dark look the gang member shot him. 
“What did you do?” 
“It’s okay, noona.” the man assured her, dragging her back out of the alley. “Hyung is really excited to see you again.” he turned his gaze on her brother, his tone a little less friendly. “You’ll be hearing from us.” 
“Chansol!” she cried as she was shoved into the back of a waiting SUV, the door locking firmly behind her. “Chansol!” She screamed, banging on the window. 
“It’s okay, noona.” the man cooed as he hopped into the driver’s seat. “It’s going to be alright.” 
“I’m not your noona.” she hissed, yanking on the door handle even though it did nothing. 
“Of course you are.” he smiled, turning his eyes to the road. “I’m Jungkook.” 
“Fuck off!” she growled still yanking at the door. 
“That’s not very nice.” he frowned. “You should put on your seatbelt. Hyung would be really upset if you got hurt.” 
The drive continued much like that. Jungkook tried to make conversation and told her to put her seatbelt on, and she tried to escape the car, a task that proved to be impossible. By the time they arrived at their destination she was exhausted, and she looked a mess, but her captor seemed just as cheery as when they started. 
“Alright, noona!” he cheered, opening her door and easily catching her as she tried to dart past him. “Time to go see hyung.” 
“Let go of me!” she shrieked, fighting against him to no avail as he dragged her into the building. 
“Mr. Jeon.” A woman dressed in a low cut red dress greeted with a sultry smile. “What can I do for you?” 
“I’m here to see the boss.” 
She pouted. “You’re not here to see me? I could make you feel real good.” 
“No.” he scoffed, keeping a firm hold on a squirming Seori. “I have a delivery for him.” 
The woman looked her up and down with distaste. “She can’t go see him dressed like that. She looks like a prude.” 
A mischievous smile spread across his lips. “Fix her up then.” 
A similar smile spread across the woman’s face. “You got it JK.” 
Seori was dragged away and unceremoniously stripped of her coat by a gaggle of scantily clad women. 
“Jas….” one of them whined, looking at her outfit. “She’s all covered up. You can’t send her up looking like a nun.” 
It was the second time they’d insulted her outfit tonight, and Seori was quite sure there was nothing wrong with her professional outfit: tights, heels, and a dress with sleeves that stopped just above her elbows and had a turtleneck top. It was stylish yet professional and perfect for the late October weather, but seeing women in nothing but negligees and lingerie gave her a good idea of why they thought she was a nun. 
She couldn’t fight them off as they descended on her, quickly peeling off her dresses, shoes, and tights, leaving her in nothing but the plain cotton bra and panties she’d put on that morning. They didn’t even match. They all looked appalled. 
“Even her lingerie is hopeless.” one of them sighed dejectedly. “You sure he asked for her?” 
“I’m sure.” the one called Jas nodded. “You guys should get back to work. I’ll get her fixed up.” 
“Just ‘cause Lola’s gone doesn’t mean you’re the boss.” One of them sassed. 
“Lola didn’t work on sight, and she was favored.”  Jas snapped back. “If you want to end up like Wendy keep that attitude up.” the girls all paled, quickly scurrying out of the room. 
“What...what happened to Wendy?” she whispered, doing her best to keep herself covered as Jas looked for something to put her in. 
“She got too big for her britches. The boss had to get rid of her.” 
“Get rid of her?” Jas gave her an unimpressed look as if she should know what had happened already, and she had a horrible feeling that she did. “What is this place?” 
“What do you think it is?” she asked coming back to her with a set that was nothing more than see through black lace. Seori didn’t answer, just stared at her apprehensively. Jas sighed. “It’s Mr. Park’s main office. He has other houses, but this is the high end one. Only the big wigs come here.” 
“Is this a brothel?” 
“We prefer other names, but brothel works too.” she shrugged, beginning to strip her of the last remnants of her own clothes. “Put these on.” 
“Why?” 
“Cause you can’t see the boss dressed like that. You’re a new girl right?” Jas seemed to be getting more exasperated with her by the minute. “Look, honey. The boss has to check out all the new girls. If he likes you, he’ll send you to a nice house. If he doesn’t you’ll go to one of the more low end houses. If you’re really lucky and pay your dues, you might even catch the eye of one of the big bosses. That’s what happened to Lola.” 
She thought that maybe Jas meant those words to be comforting, but they only sent a bolt of cold fear through her. “I think there’s been a mistake.” 
“A lot of us think that at first, hun. You’ll be fine. And the boss is a good lover so it won’t be so bad.” she patted her arm. “Hurry up and get dressed. You can’t keep the boss waiting.” 
Shakily, Seori slipped into the set still feeling incredibly exposed. “Can I… is there anything I can cover up with?” 
Jas shot her a sympathetic look. “You’ll just be stripped in a few minutes anyway. Let’s go.”
Jas took her arm in a surprisingly strong grip and led her through the place towards what had to be the boss’ office. “Good luck.” And with that, she was pushed into the room, shivering like a cat left out in the rain. 
“Awww, kitten.” an achingly familiar voice cooed, and Seori thought she might throw up. “Did you miss me?” 
“Jimin…” she whispered, pressing herself back against the wall.
He got up from his desk, prowling towards her. “I missed you.” he murmured, leaning in to breathe her in. God he’d missed her. “You didn’t come home.” 
“We broke up.” she whimpered. Even though every fiber of her being had been conditioned to want to lean into him, she didn’t. 
His head tilted to the side. “Silly, kitten. No we didn’t. We just had a fight.” He smiled, reaching up a hand to stroke her hair. “That’s all.” 
“I don’t want to be with you.” 
His smile changed, taking on a sharper quality. “We both know that’s a lie, kitten.” 
“I can’t be with you.” 
He pulled away from her with a sigh, and she took the opportunity to slip away from the door, away from him and more towards the middle of the room. “I suppose that that’s your choice, kitten, but you should know all the options before you decide.” 
“Don’t call me that.” she snapped, wrapping her arms around herself. 
“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he started backing her towards his desk.. “You’re mine. I can call you whatever I please.” 
“I’m not yours anymore.” 
“Unfortunately for you, but very fortunately for me, you do. Ask your brother.” 
“Chansol would never…” 
“Chansol would do anything to avenge your father and brother.” Jimin scoffed, voice sharp and dangerous. It was a tone he didn’t take with her, and it shut her up almost immediately. “He’d even give up his previous little sister and agree to work with the very people he’s supposed to be putting behind bars.” 
“He wouldn’t.” 
“He would.” Jimin chimed, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now, you have two options, kitten.” he drawled lazily, suddenly relaxed again. “You either come back to me, or you can work as one of my girls.” 
“As one of your whores?” she spat, glaring at him as he trapped her against the wood of his desk. 
“It’s business.” he shrugged. “And you’re one to talk, kitten. I have videos of you acting like the little slut you are.” he chuckled yanking her head back by the hair. “What do you think would happen if you left me?  I could release those videos for the whole world to see. Who do you think would take you after that?�� he taunted cruelly. “And what would your poor mother and brother think of you then? I bet Chansol would feel so much less guilty about that little deal we made.” 
“You wouldn’t.” her eyes were wide and horrified as she stared at him.
“I would.” He purred leaning down to nip at her neck. “I would do anything to keep you with me.” 
“You’re sick.” she whimpered. 
“All for you, kitten.” he cooed, suddenly lifting her up onto the desk and stepping between her legs. 
“What are you…” 
He shushed her, fingers playing with the hem of her panties. “Do you think anyone else would treat you as nicely?” he asked, slipping under the fabric lightly brushing against her core. “Do you think the men out there would care about your pleasure?” he hissed, beginning to play with her clit even though she squirmed to get away from him. 
“Stop.” she begged, pushing at his wrist, but Jimin would not be moved. 
“They don’t care about you, kitten. No one cares about you like I do.” he pressed a kiss to her collar bone just as he dipped a finger into her core. “So wet for me already.” he grinned against  her skin. “Always such a slut for daddy.” 
“Stop it.” she sobbed, feeling so helpless and small against him. “Just stop it.” 
“It would all be so much easier if you gave in.” he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of her. “Don’t you miss me, kitten? We could go back to the way things were. I would take care of you.” 
“No!” she sobbed beating against his chest. “No, you’re a liar. You lied to me.” 
“I lied to protect you.” he cooed, already feeling her crumbling against him. His poor kitten, he knew she couldn’t live without him. They were made for each other. “Don’t you want to go back to the way things were?” 
“I don’t… please, just stop.” 
“No.” he growled, fingering her more aggressively now. “Just give in, kitten.” 
“No…” she sobbed, leaning into him helplessly. 
“Just give in.” he purred, pulling away from her just as she was about to orgasm. “It’s either a life with me or a life out there.” he brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes as he tilted her chin up to look at him. 
“Why are you doing this?” 
“Because I can’t lose you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you too much to lose you.” 
“Please don’t do this… Jimin, please.” 
“All you have to do is give in, kitten, and everything will be like it was.” He grinned, watching her tremble. She was so close to breaking, and he knew it. “Just give in.” 
“Please….” she begged. “I don’t…” 
He shushed her again, pulling her closer as he began to touch her again making her whimper. “I know you were scared. That’s okay. I forgive you. It’ll all be okay. You just have to stay with me. You can do that for daddy, right kitten?” 
“I’m sorry.” she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry, please.” 
“Just one word, kitten. Just one word and everything will be like it was.” she was shaking like a leaf, and Jimin couldn't get enough of it. Watching her these past few weeks hadn’t been enough. Touching himself to the thought of her hadn’t been enough. He needed her like he needed to breathe. “You know what to do.” his words were sweet as honey as he brought her right to the edge before pulling away again.
“Yes!” she cried, crying into his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sorry, please don’t… don’t make me.” 
“Shhhh, kitten.” he rubbed her back gently. “Daddy, won’t let anything happen to you.” 
Jimin pulled away from her moving, taking off his suit jacket and draping it around her frame. He didn’t want anyone else looking at her as he took her home. She was for his eyes only. “Everything will be fine now.” he assured her, taking her ring out of his pocket and slipping it onto her finger, before scooping her up into his arms. “Let’s go home.”  
She nodded against his shoulder, trembling like a leaf. “You made the right choice, kitten, but daddy is still going to have to punish you for worrying him so much.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, striding out of the building. “Never leave me again.” 
296 notes · View notes
spasmsofthought · 3 years ago
Text
flashes. (dick grayson x reader)
I’m not really well-versed in DC, at all, but I wanted to give this a shot. let me know what you think! It’s a bit of a mess, so please take this with a grain of salt and some grace. sorry if he feels ooc; I tried my best but I am by no means an expert or even an amateur. please be kind. idk if i’ll write anymore for him, but i wanted to try. it might be trash but it’s out there now xo
-- 
It’s not like Gotham is known for being a walk in the park. The city is all alleys in the middle of the night, dark vapors rising from sewers, and secrets in the shadows. At least, in your experience. 
There were no gated communities or fences to keep the darkness out in the apartment complex you lived in with your family. Only survival and common sense keeps you returning to your bed and food on the table.
So, when your younger (genius) brother is offered a scholarship to Gotham Academy on what feels like a whim, the world shifts. 
When your mother still works, though, it means you are the de-facto adult during the day. Your job keeps your busy in the mornings, hers during the afternoon and night. You’re just getting into learning what it’s like to handle a job and bills of your own, even though you’re still living with your family (part of it is to save money, part of it is because you just don’t want to leave). Your family is the only real home you have ever known. Why leave to only find inadequate housing where you have to worry about your safety and theirs separately?
So, like every month, you swap out of your work clothes, put on your newest (at least 2 years old) pair of jeans on, the only blouse you own that hasn’t faded or stretched or shrunk from countless wash cycles, and grab the bag you’ve stored in its own special place in the cabinet by your family’s loud, old, run-down fridge. 
You chance a ride on the bus, hopeful for no public catastrophes today. You listen to your small, but loved, playlist through the one earbud that works during the ride and you almost want to leap with joy when you step back down on concrete like this is what it is like everyday.
The architecture is a thing to behold. There is no wonder why this is acclaimed as the most prestigious private school in Gotham. Light is everywhere, and it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist. Every month you step on this campus it’s like you’ve never seen it before.
The grounds are meticulously groomed, everything in lines and straight edges. Concrete and nineteenth century buildings both cast heavy, sharp shadows in the late afternoon sun. There are some students lingering about, all grouped up and chattering in their similar uniforms. Compared to public art, haphazard graffiti, and buildings of all shapes and sizes, this place feels foreign. Different. It makes you feel strange and unwelcome; like entering a different world altogether. 
When you enter the pristine, elegant office, the entrance door propped open, there’s two figures you immediately spot: the secretary and the man standing in front of her. Your brother is yet to be found. He’s running late again. 
“Hi, hun, take a seat,” Grace’s sweet voice soothes from her position behind the desk. “He should be here any minute.” The man standing in front and a little to the right of her glances behind for second, casually swiping a look at you, before he turns forward again. 
“Thanks, Grace,” You exhale as you sit down. 
The chairs are nice, soft fabric and cushioned, but small. You so desire to bring up a leg to draw close to you, but it’s impossible without making yourself a human pretzel. And you don’t want to dirty it with your less than perfect shoes so, instead, you chose to bring the bag onto your lap and you pick at your cuticles, resisting to bring your nail to your mouth and chew on it anxiously. 
There’s never been anyone else in here when you’ve come before. Grace can make polite chatter, but then she leaves you in relative silence. It makes you feel anonymous. The man uttering sweet words to the secretary and then glancing at you again before sitting down next to you does not. You stop fidgeting with your hands and intertwine them together instead. 
A flash of the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting on glass against your eyes is what you first get a taste of, then all polish and silver, or something like it, cradling a wrist. The watch looks heavy, expensive. It looks like it could buy your family a newer, safer, apartment in a suburbia far away from here. 
“Hey,” Smooth as honey it drips out, and you are drawn to blue eyes and ebony hair. There’s a softness to his face and his eyes are warm. It would only take an hour, you think before you stop the thought from going any further. An hour to do what? You’re not sure, but the list expands the longer you take him in.
The first thing you ever learned on the streets when you walked by yourself to work was how to be aware, vigilant; on guard. Men were unpredictable creatures who were driven by greed or lust or power, and any of the good ones were swooped up and carried away to better things or dead before any second glances could take place. Or carrying on just fine behind their high fences and impenetrable walls. Just because this one introduces himself first does not mean he has proven otherwise. 
“Hi,” is all you can offer, a quirk of lips to his gesture of kindness.
You glance towards to door before your eyes make their way back to him. The gesture doesn’t offend him. There’s a familiarity to his face, but you decide to not spend time right now trying to figure it out. It already only tells you one thing: this guy is way out of your league. 
Grace gets up from her seat, rounds her desk, and makes her way out of the office, leaving you two alone. You watch her the entire time. 
“You waiting for someone?” 
“Yeah,” You nod even as the word comes out, “My brother.” 
He leans back like he’s got all the time in the world, and there’s a perusal that makes you taste butterflies and gulp down caution at the same time. You wonder if he saw the scuff marks and stains on your worn-out sneakers, or if he notices that you still haven’t had the chance to wash your three-day old hair and that’s why it’s up and back, and that your blouse is definitely from the clearance rack at Goodwill.
“Your favorite one?” 
Out of self-preservation, you try to hide the reaction to the humor you feel, “My only one.”
“I think that’s the same thing.” You almost want to roll your eyes. But there’s a genuineness in his conversation, like he means the words he’s saying to you. Like this isn’t a game. 
“Sure,” You shrug, “You’re allowed to be wrong.” 
“My name’s Richard.” It’s old-fashioned. It’s something you don’t really hear rolled off of tongues in your neck of the woods, that’s for sure. A hand comes out and rests halfway between you and him, and it’s one of the most graceful things you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. 
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile. Your hands stay clasped in your lap. 
“You gotta earn a handshake from my sister,” A voice pops up from the open door way. You swing your head around and watch for a moment as your brother makes his way towards you.
“Hi, J,” Your stand, open your arms wide, bag moved from your lap into one of your hands. His solid presence allows a brief hug before he steps back again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude--” 
The man sitting next to you has chosen to rise as well and you’re closer than you thought you would be when you turn back to him. You notice now that your height means your eyes literally meet his lips straight on. There’s a curve of a smirk there for a flash of a second before it straightens back out into the smile you saw at first. The rest of your sentence is forgotten. He takes one, two, three steps back.
“You got them all?” The question saves you. Your brother pulls you back to him as you hand him the brown plastic bag. In it? His favorite snacks from the liquor store on the corner (the nearly sold-out, hard-to-come-by ones). 
“Every last one,” Your hands come to his cheeks, turning his face to each side.
You have to reach up now and it strikes you just how much he’s grown even in the past month. You both spend much of your time on the phone with one another. These monthly meetings set-up frequently enough for deliveries and some quick face-to-face time and seldom enough to avoid embarrassment (that’s what he says anyway). 
He brings the chip bag out and holds it up, “You even got these.” 
“Geraldo got them special order just for you.” 
“Tell the old man I said thanks,” He smiles like he’s seven again, spoiled and self-indulgent. “Richard” is still standing behind you and to the side, silent. You can feel his eyes flipping back and forth between the two of you. 
“Of course,” Your hands smooth over his shoulders and brush away imaginary dust. “Mom sends her love and says she’ll try and call you on her lunch in a few hours.” 
“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I answer.” 
“Thank you.” You exhale an affectionate sigh. 
Avoidant loner that your brother can be, there’s a reason you both want him here. He’ll be able to do the things you only dreamed of when you were his age. And one day, hopefully, you’ll all be out of this hellhole, onto better things. 
“I gotta go, but thanks for these. Even though you should be saving every penny,” He chides, holding up a finger like his words are somehow a threat. 
“Okay,” You chortle like you wouldn’t give everything up for your brother in a heartbeat. There’s another quick hug before he’s looking back at the man behind you, who is still standing there like some sort of stealth ninja. 
“Like I said man,” He nods and there’s something in his face that changes as he looks at “Richard”, “You gotta earn it.” 
It’s with those parting words that he begins to walk out. You stay stock still for a second before you leap after him, “I wanna hear all about what happened last week with Cara tomorrow on the phone!” 
Your brother, a mile away already on longs legs, shouts something indistinguishable back at you from down the hallway, his figure turning a corner.  
“Who’s Cara?” The voice brings your back to reality. 
You sweep your palms against your jeans and turn back to face the man with a three-piece suit and a watch that probably costs more than 20 years of your salary. Oh God. 
“This girl my brother asked out the other week. I bribed him with some of his favorites so he would tell me what went down.” You shrug your shoulders, not worried about spilling the tea about your brother’s romantic life. 
“Does he know that?” His arms seem to relax a little more and you think you could stare at him all day. 
“Eh,” You say, creeping back towards the open door. Your small crossbody bag is already on you and there’s no reason to sit back down. Richard follows you as you, apparently, both start to make your exit from the office. Nothing about it feels unnatural. “Sometimes you got to persuade instead of demand.” 
“Ha,” There seems to be something you are missing based on the way his mouth curves and his eyes spark, “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” 
“You’re welcome. That’s the only one that comes for free!” Your arms swing back and forth. “Anything else is gonna cost you.” 
The hallways usually feel like a labyrinth here, but you don’t feel lost this time. 
“What forms of payment do you accept?” You pretend to be thinking, but really you’re just glancing between the different features of his face. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone like him. You’re not sure you ever will again.  
“The bank’s closed right now, actually,” The wariness is back. This guy walks like he’s used to treading on perfectly paved gold streets in his shoes. All you’ve ever known is cracked cement and rusted pipes that burst underground. “But I think it’ll be back up and running soon.” 
He doesn’t falter and there’s no anger or hurt in his expression at the metaphorical rejection. Instead, it looks something like silent patience. Maybe even acceptance. This guy could totally not be interested and you could just be being (too) ambitious. The door to the open courtyard, and your way home, is already before you both. 
“It was nice meeting you Richard,” You say as you begin to take steps forward. Your hands nervously hold the strap across your torso. You take a few more steps before his words turn your head back to him. 
“You can call me Dick,” He says with ease. The tone makes you feel like he’s speaking a language you don’t really understand. His blue eyes seem like they’re on fire; a contradiction, you know. There’s something about him that almost makes you catch your breath. You’ve never been been winded by just looking before. 
“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You offer, hands squeezing your bag strap. 
“I look forward to earning that handshake next time!” He calls out when you’re several feet away. 
I think you’ll earn a lot more than that, you almost say, but refrain. 
Instead, you wave back to him once before making your way out of the courtyard, caught between staring at your shoes and looking ahead to make sure you’re going to right way. You smile and daydream the entire bus ride home. Blue becomes your favorite color. 
138 notes · View notes
1dmonthlyficroundup · 3 years ago
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1D Monthly Fic Roundup
Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2021! Below you’ll find 23 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.
Happy reading!
He Carries The Key by @lululawrence
[Niall/Louis, OT5, 8k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
Niall was mostly home, ready for a shower and a chat with Louis, when suddenly Niall was flooded with emotions from the pack bond.Shock. Surprise. Confusion.But mostly fear.Something was wrong with Louis.
Plus One by mynameispiaivy / @missrefridgefreetorator
[Louis/Luke Malak, 3k, Mature, tumblr post]
Louis is invited to an event and he has to bring a "plus one".
Better Mistakes by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10
[Harry/Louis, 117k, Explicit, tumblr post]
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-”
“Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.”
“You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?”
Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?”
“He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.”
Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...
Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy by @lululawrence
[Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 7k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
Hello, I’m sorry if this isn’t a post that is allowed on this channel, but I was hoping for the best since it is regarding a photography project I’m working on at the moment. I’m working on a set of sunrise kiss photos and therefore am needing a willing kissing partner. I’d hoped to be able to provide one for myself, but it hasn’t panned out, so here I am! I was hoping to find someone here, since I know most of you (at least peripherally) and can generally vouch for you not being creeps. Plus this way I know you will understand needing to continue to tweak the camera settings and reshoots etc that others might not.
Anyway, I’m looking for someone who identifies as male or male-ish (sorry, ladies) who is between the ages of 18 and 40. I’m a 29 year old male-ish myself, for those who would like to know before replying.
If you’re interested and are free the early morning of August 7th and would like to kiss in the sunrise with me for the sake of some (hopefully) interesting and fun photos, let me know via DM and I’ll give you the location.
OR the one where Louis needs a kissing partner, two show up, and it all might turn out for the best that way.
call my name and save me from the dark by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same
[Louis/Harry, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
“I don’t know if it was a nightmare,” he confesses to the ceiling, the darkness making it easier to speak up even when he still has to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. “It feels more like a memory. But it can’t be.”
Harry shifts, and Louis can feel his chin perched on his chest, doesn’t need to look at him to know that Harry’s studying him. “Why?” He prompts, when Louis doesn’t immediately continue, and Louis swallows, tries to shrug off the apprehension, the fear that Harry will think that he’s gone mad.
“Because I heard them pronounce me dead.”
Feels like home by @neondiamond
[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Louis comes home from work with an exciting surprise. Daydreaming and celebrations ensue.
this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface
[Harry/Louis, 4k, Mature, tumblr post]
The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight.
“Your jam?”
When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it.
Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.
I Know My Arithmedick (2 + 2 = 4sum) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
[Harry/Louis + Louis/multiple partners, 3k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Harry wants to watch Louis fuck someone else. Louis loves giving Harry what he wants. It’s simple math, really.
doG…and his friend by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright
[Louis/Harry, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
When Joan has to move out of her small, nice home and in with a random roommate, she obviously brings her dog/boyfriend, Doug, with her.
Doug makes a friend. And maybe more.
I Heard You Talking by @lululawrence
[Louis/Harry, 10k, Not Rated, tumblr post]
It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.
Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.
He was stunningly gorgeous.
Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”
God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?
Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.
All That You Need by @haztobegood
[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]
Pre-heat was always one of Harry’s favorite times to spend with Louis. It was a time to rest up and indulge in extra cuddles, like basking in a ray of sunshine before having to dive off the deep end. Louis lavishes him with tender touches and soft kisses. Harry wants to savor this time as long as possible. The unquenchable need will come later, but for now, his desires are simple. He just needed to be closer to his alpha. As close as possible.
sickly sweet fonding by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose
[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]
A few members of their crew start piling up the dirty dishes and taking them over to the sink. Harry walks around the cameras, and smiles brightly at Louis.
“What do you think, Lou? Do I have it in the bag?”
Louis eyes a bowl of bright pink lumpy batter being cleaned from Harry’s side. “Of course you do.” He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and steers him away, all while ignoring the dramatic gagging Niall is doing. He doesn’t think it’s just the batter making Niall gag.
or the one where Louis fonds over Harry's horrible baking skills
Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose
[Louis/Harry, 1k, Mature, tumblr post]
Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”
'Ere comes the milk by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays
[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit]
Louis is obsessed with Harry's mommy milkers.
everything comes back to you by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays
[Louis/Harry, 8k, Explicit]
Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?
He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie
[Harry/Louis, 32k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
Camp Infinity is the perfect place for a lot of things; hiking, swimming, sports, eating, and falling in love. Harry Styles is a bit too familiar with the last one from his years of being a camper. This year things will be different. He’s 21, a grown man now, and ready to see Camp Infinity from a different point of view; working as a lifeguard. However, his whole summer turns upside down when a familiar British lad makes his return into Harry's life.Or the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.
Also known as – The Summer Camp Fic
tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale
[Louis/Harry, 20k, Explicit, tumblr post]
No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.
or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.
Getting a Head for Heights by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13
[Louis/Greg James, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
The problem is, Louis thinks Greg would be quite good to date, so it would really help if everyone would stop reminding him of that fact so he could unthink it. He’d be a gentleman, at least until Louis talked him out of it, and he’s funny and nice and hot and they’re both into music and football and drama. He’s also a freakish giant of a human, and the problem with dating is that sooner or later you have to stand next to each other.
We Go Together (series) by @beelou / cherrylarry
[Louis/Harry, 3k, General, tumblr post]
A grease au
Hot Boy Summer (series) by @louisandtheaquarian / zita17
[Harry/Louis, 35k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]
Louis is an overworked bartender hoping to save up enough extra tips to buy a new air conditioner before he literally melts during a scorching NYC heat wave. Harry is the new neighbor that wakes him up by moving in his sole day off at 6am. An NYC enemies to neighbors to lovers AU featuring a rickety fire escape, the 2021 Euros, Lirry bickering like a divorced couple, and enough OT5 clichés to rot your teeth. (If Harry's pastries don't get them first.)
across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Louis/Harry, 8k, General, tumblr post]
The first time they see each other is when they are toddlers, playing out in the yard. Louis remembers sitting on the perfectly trimmed lawn and getting yelled at for picking at the soft blades of grass; she remembers looking over, across the narrow but deep and wild river, and watching another little girl, out in a different garden, picking flowers for her mother.
She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.
bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]
Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.
whatever you feel like doing in this moment by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
[Harry/Louis, 2k, General, tumblr post]
Louis gets all that he's ever wanted during his favourite game at their group's weekly improv show.
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kstewdeux · 3 years ago
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For a span of a minute that felt like an eternity, the entire world focused in on one singular point. A small painting. It’s edges well worn. Finer details faded and lost due to the passage of time but otherwise, in shockingly good condition.
But for all it’s antiquity, there was no mistaking the young woman who had been depicted. Whoever wrote the small exhibition label had simply labeled it:
Unidentified Artist, Japanese
Late Tokugawa Shogunate, Edo Period, 1853-1867
Young Woman
Painting on Parchment
H. Nakamura Trust, 88.251
According to the small blurb beneath the exhibition label, this tiny piece of parchment, clearly kept over the past century with meticulous care, had - at some point - apparently been studied by scholars to prove it was genuine. A fact that had been in dispute because the style diverged so greatly from art styles of the period but Kagome knew what the artist had been trying to do.
A photograph. He’d tried to mimic a photograph. Not perfect by any means but as close as someone in that time period could get. Which was shocking given (a) she had no idea he could draw and (b) that he would’ve taken the time to draw her.
Jaw trembling, Kagome had to remind herself to breathe. A task made more difficult as her friends joined her and began commenting on how the girl in the drawing resembled her.
Of course it did. It was her.
Her blurry vision flicked to the date and what registered felt like something cold was crushing her heart. If this ‘unidentified artist’ was him, Inuyasha had survived their quest and lived hundreds of years clearly hoping to see her again. At some point, he must have realized he simply wasn’t going to make it and…
Exhaling shakily, Kagome swallowed and decided it would be easier to simply leave. She was getting worked up over nothing. It was entirely possible that all of this was a coincidence. That she was reading too much into it. After all, Inuyasha wasn’t an artist by any means and most certainly would not have spent hundreds of years thinking about her. They were friends. Just friends. Unless something changed, which seemed unlikely, he had no interest in being with her that way. Besides, surely there were other women who looked like her throughout history. Everyone had a doppelgänger, right? Hers just happened to be some random woman in 19th century Japan.
It was just a painting of her doppelgänger.
Hopefully. Hopefully that’s all that it was.
“I have to go,” Kagome mumbled hoarsely as she took a step back and tore her eyes away from the painting, “I need to go.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Yuka asked worriedly, “Do…”
Unable to hear anything over the ringing in her ears, Kagome’s eyes wavered as they flicked back to the blurb that, upon closer inspection, described the other sketches and accompanying notes that detailed the artist’s ‘love’ for the young woman depicted. Various photographs of said notes had been attached slightly below said blurb and one of them had her shaking her head in mild horror.
‘I will not know your name next time we meet…’
“I need to go,” Kagome repeated breathlessly before turning on her heel and damn near running for the entrance. After that, she wouldn’t’ve been able to tell you how long or far or even which direction she ran from the mental image of an elderly Inuyasha writing out those notes he had to believe she’d never read. It might not even be him. Couldn’t be him. He didn’t draw. Couldn’t say something poetic much less write it. It had to be a coincidence. Just a coincidence but the image continued playing in her mind until she was blinded by tears. He died alone. Even…even if she did end up with him, she would’ve been dead by the time he wrote that. Long before he even picked up that brush. It…it…
It was all becoming too painful to even imagine.
Coming to an abrupt halt, Kagome clutched at her chest and used the side of a cement building for support. Inuyasha died over a hundred years ago and while that made sense, the realization that all her friends had died sometime in the past five hundred years hit her with all the force of a Mack truck.
Whimpering softly, her legs gave out and she slid down to the cold sidewalk. It was a coincidence. Just a coincidence. The probability of it all…
Well it just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. It just…
“There you are,” came a hoarse, relieved whisper from far too close before two strong arms scooped her up and pulled her off the ground, “What happened? I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“Inuyasha?” Kagome mumbled stupidly before she whined and pressed her face into the corner of his neck - a gesture which had him stopping and doing something strange. His face turned slightly and buried his nose into her hair.
“What happened? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what happened,” he chided anxiously as he gave her a light squeeze, “You hurt?”
Opening her eyes, Kagome glanced around the dimly lit streets and realized how late it was. No wonder he’d come after her.
“M’fine. Got lost is all,” she lied lamely and she felt him inhale deeply then sigh.
“Bullshit. What happened?” he asked again before adding in a clear attempt to get her to smile, “I don’t mind killing people ya know. If someone hurt you, I’ll make them pay, ya know, if you want.”
“Nothing happened. Just got lost on my way home,” she mumbled and with a somewhat exasperated grunt, Inuyasha continued walking again.
“You’re a terrible liar and an idiot,” Inuyasha opined firmly - adjusting his hold on her and shaking his head, “You could’ve gotten hurt out here by yourself, stupid. Anything could’ve happened.”
“I was…”
“Sometimes I swear you’re trying to get yourself killed,” he continued chiding as some of his anger began bubbling to the surface, “What would’ve happened if I didn’t come looking, huh?”
“I said I’m sorry,” she protested weakly - her nose subtly nuzzling the flesh at the base of his neck, “I…”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. You need to do better,” Inuyasha snapped angrily before pausing mid-stride and sighing, “I swore to protect you but you make it so…so hard sometimes. And you don’t even care. You just…just go around getting kidnapped or disappearing and…and getting hurt when I’m not looking.”
It was strange but hearing his voice berate her and feeling his irritated breaths actually improved her mood considerably.
“I waited. Like an idiot I waited for you to come back from that school thing of yours instead of coming to get you like normal but…but then the sun went down and…” Inuyasha continued to huffed and grunt while his arms held her slightly tighter, “I can’t be there all the time dammit. I can’t. I’d like to be but…but I just can’t so…so you just have to fucking do better.”
Lifting her head slightly at this strange command, Kagome studied his face for a moment before leaning forward and absently placing a kiss on his tense neck. Inuyasha went stock still and then rigid but she couldn’t find it in her to care.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll do better,” she promised tiredly as she pressed another lazy kiss on his shoulder. At least in this moment, he was alive and loved. Right now, he wasn’t alone drawing paintings and writing notes to someone who was either dead or hadn’t been born yet. And while true that the ‘unidentified artist’ was probably anyone else, that mental image of it being him continued to haunt her.
Taking a deep breath, Kagome stubbornly told herself that the ‘unidentified artist’ couldn’t be him. It simply wasn’t possible. For so many reasons.
“You kissed me,” Inuyasha finally blurted and mercifully distracted from her inner turmoil, Kagome hummed in the affirmative. A second passed then two and he forced out a strangled, “W-why?”
“I wanted to,” Kagome offered tiredly as she focused on the feel of him and the knowledge that, as of this moment, he was very much alive. And yes, now that she was a little calmer, it was fairly obvious that the ‘unidentified artist’ wasn’t Inuyasha. He didn’t think of her in that way. Never had. Never would. They were friends. Best friends. But he loved someone else and had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in her that way.
As Kagome continued talking herself down, Inuyasha remained motionless for a long time before he finally began walking back towards the shrine. Slowly. Every so often he’d pause and take a few short breaths like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.
“Why did you want to?” he finally asked hesitantly as he turned a corner, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Because you’re you,” she mumbled as her consciousness began ebbing. With a soft sigh, she relaxed more fully against his warm chest and offered up an additional explanation, “It made me happy.”
This response clearly bothered him judging by the increased tension in his muscles.
“Why did kissing me make you happy?” he pressed after another long moment of silence.
“Dunno. Why do you think it…” Kagome trailed off into a yawn and Inuyasha let out a small groan.
“I don’t know. That’s why I was asking,” Inuyasha interrupted with a huff of frustration, “You always make things hard. For no reason.”
Instead of getting angry, Kagome simply cooed and snuggled into him which seemed to both bother and calm him.
“You’re so stupid,” he continued to grumble as he adjusted his hold, “Ask a simple question and you just…act like you.”
“How else am I supposed to act?” Kagome hummed with mild amusement and Inuyasha grunted.
“Whatever. You need to sleep,” he changed the subject miserably as he finally made it to the shrine and began climbing the steps, “But don’t think I’m gunna take it easy on you. I’m serious. You can’t do shit like that again. You could’ve gotten…”
“Will you stay here tonight?” Kagome interrupted tiredly and Inuyasha once again stopped mid-step. His hands flexed against the flesh they were gripping as he licked his lips and averted his eyes.
“Only if you tell me why you really kissed me,” he repeated his earlier question - before continuing with an unease tinged with hope which surprised her, “I think I deserve some answers after the stupid stunt you just pulled and if you’re trying…if you did that to just…just distract me, it won’t work. Won’t change nothing. You still gotta be less stupid.”
“I did it because I wanted to,” Kagome repeated before gasping when he suddenly set her down and glared.
“Well what if I didn’t want you to?” Inuyasha huffed - something strangely hurt behind his expressive amber eyes, “You’ve never tried to mess with me before. Never. And…and do you have any idea how scared I was when you didn’t come home? I searched for you, Kagome. From the…the 6 to the 9. Do you know how hard it is to track scents here? To listen for you? It’s a literal miracle that I…”
“I said I’m sorry,” Kagome insisted and Inuyasha looked even more hurt. Breathing heavily, he visibly tried to control whatever reaction was brewing under the surface but unfortunately, his confusion and hurt bubbled over.
“I DON’T WANT AN APOLOGY!” Inuyasha bellowed - his hurt escalating into full blown anger with such speed it nearly gave her whiplash, “YOU COULD’VE DIED. YOU COULD’VE BEEN HURT! AND I’M NOT SO DESPERATE THAT A STUPID KISS IS GUNNA MAKE ME FORGET THAT! WHY DID YOU KISS ME?!”
“I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you!” Kagome snapped and Inuyasha looked a hair away from strangling her.
“THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER! YOU’RE JUST TRYING TO COVER YOUR ASS AND…” Inuyasha began to rail against her once more and it was at that point Kagome’s mind officially hit It’s breaking point. He wanted answers, huh? He wanted to know why she ran and why she kissed him and why she was so upset?!
“FINE! KNOW WHY I DID THAT?! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Kagome screamed bitterly and Inuyasha froze like a deer in the headlights, “I KISSED YOU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! THERE! HAPPY?!”
When Inuyasha continued gaping at her with a shell-shocked expression, the full ramifications of what she’d just admitted hit her like a ton of bricks.
“Forget it,” she breathed miserably as she turned and unsteadily began climbing the stairs with her arms curled tightly around her stomach, “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do…any of that again. Just forget what I said.”
“Wait. Wait,” Inuyasha’s strangely panicked voice called out - a single clawed hand gripping her shoulder to force her to stop, “I don’t think I heard that right. W-why did you…”
“Let me go Inuyasha,” Kagome hissed but the hand didn’t release her.
“C-can I tell you w-what I heard?” he asked with a mixture of fear and desperation, “A-and I could be wrong but I just…”
“You hear everything Inuyasha,” Kagome huffed acidly as she pushed away his hand with all her might, “You heard what I said…”
Even as she climbed the stairs, she could hear his harsh rapid breaths which honestly had her moving a little faster. Everything was ruined now. All because of some stupid little painting that she’d just…
“You…you said you…you loved me,” he repeated barely above a whisper, “Right?”
Closing her eyes, Kagome let out a long sigh before squaring her shoulders and deciding to face her mistake head on.
“I do love you but I don’t…” she began as she turned to face him before being cut off when a pair of lips captured her own. Two strong arms snaked around her waist for but a moment before his calloused hands suddenly cupped her face in an effort to force her to respond.
When she finally did and when he finally pulled back, his slightly euphoric expression faded into mild horror and panic.
“Y-you said you l-loved me back, r-right?” he asked worriedly as he released and took an involuntary step back, “That’s…that’s what you said. Two, no, three times. You said that…”
“That I loved you…back,” Kagome repeated slowly and Inuyasha gave a jerky nod in response.
“That’s what you said,” he insisted miserably - his amber eyes flicking in the direction of the well, “So…and I mean, you did start the…the kissing so I…and you were an idiot. Scared me half to…”
“Know what? That is what I said,” Kagome hummed in a resigned fashion as she reached out and gestured for him to take her hand, “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s late.”
Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha eyed the beckoning hand with weary apprehension before accepting the gesture and allowing her to lead him into the house. And up the stairs. And into her bedroom. And then onto her bed. A bed upon which he found himself awkwardly waiting while Kagome proceeded to change and get ready for the night.
“Where are you gunna sleep…” he began nervously when it finally dawned on him that she seemed to be intending for him to sleep on the bed. That’s where she led him and where she told him to stay after all. Which was strange but it had been a strange night. Maybe she was trying to make him feel better. Do him a favor?
“In the bed,” Kagome hummed as she ran a brush through her hair and gave him a warm smile. A smile that faded when he stood up and began nervously glancing around with a marked blush.
“Inuyasha, where are you going?”
“You’re gunna sleep on the bed,” he muttered as he prepared to sleep in his normal position on the floor, “And you…well I was gunna…”
“If you want, you can sleep in the bed with me…”
Amber eyes widened as a single impulsive ‘oh’ left his lips but instead of sitting back down on the bed, he remained standing and staring at her with that same shell-shocked expression.
“Is that…okay?” Kagome asked nervously.
Seeming to come back to himself, Inuyasha nodded fervently and quickly sat down atop the mattress.
“Y-yeah thats…that’s…yeah. Yeah. We can do that…”
That night was the first of many nights he spent cuddled up against the woman of his dreams. Letting the warmth of her body span the length of his own as he relished in the knowledge that somehow this woman loved him. How, when or even why didn’t matter. She loved him back and that first night, as he held her small frame against him, he very nearly cried in relief. Honestly, before that night, he had already decided he was going to let her go rather than say anything. There was no way she’d ever love him back, he’d reasoned. No one would ever want to be with a half-breed, right? He’d never been so happy to be wrong.
Weeks went by after that and the funny thing was, when Kagome absently mentioned the painting from the museum to her friends over lunch, none of them had the faintest clue what she was talking about. All they remembered was her leaving in a rush. While Kagome chalked this up to the art not being memorable to anyone else, the truth was that no one else would ever remember this art because it simply never existed.
The second she’d admitted her feelings - emotions he fully reciprocated but had suppressed - all those drawings and notes faded from the annuals of time because that painting- which had been loaned to the museum by a well meaning unrelated widow who thought the unique artwork would make for an interesting exhibit - turned out to be a butterfly which was inadvertently crushed. As the years rolled on, Inuyasha never needed to paint something to bring him comfort in the midst of crushing regret and loneliness.
Why would he?
Thanks to a merciful series of events, he woke up to his favorite smiling face every day for the rest of his life.
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stanleyb-art · 3 years ago
Text
Have some of my Stan twins headcanons!
Both:
They are trans men! (This one and any attached HC to this, is not ALWAYS included in my fanart/fics but it's still there)
When either man has a nightmare, they go to each other for comfort, that includes just keeping each other company, cuddling to fall back asleep, whatever they need
They draw together while travelling and show those and the large scrapbook they make to the kids when they visit next
Stan:
He 100% has ADHD
Bisexual w/masc preference
Got top surgery and testosterone from a really shady back alley surgeon/doctor until hrt became normalized
Had PTSD before weirdmageddon but that + the memory wipe worsened it in multiple ways
Actually super cuddly and affectionate but went so long without physical contact that he hates to initiate it
He knows sign language (because in canon he's HoH and doesn't want to risk not being able to communicate if he loses it fully)
Listens to rock and folk-punk
Really creative and artistic (which is obvious considering his line of work) and has endless amounts of sketch books just lying around
Was never actually failing school, he wasn't doing great but he had D's, C's and even B's (only in gym and art but still they count) but his family didn't care
Teaches Mabel and Dipper how to box the next summer they come down
Never admits it but he is incredibly insecure, but wants to seem confident and unbothered when everyone is around
Dated Fiddleford for a bit while he was still somewhat lucid (in their early 30s), but then when he got worse, he forgot Stan was Stan and started referring to him as Ford and he couldn't handle that anymore and tried to distance himself from him
Everytime he gets a new memory, he goes to Ford, because it's really scary and Ford somehow always knows how to help
Has an ACTUAL tattoo on his back, its Ford's hand, he got it when he was sixteen as a surprise for him, to hopefully make him feel better
Actively dating their universe's Rick Sanchez and has been since their late forties (knew him since his early twenties though)
Ford:
Created his own testosterone for himself, and eventually for Fiddleford, Stan and Dipper as well
Also got his top surgery from a back alley surgeon (sort of, they were in training to be a real, certified doctor but wanted MORE practice than they were getting)
Gay through and through
He's autistic AND has ADHD
Dated Fiddleford in college and after weirdmageddon is over (I also go back and forth on thinking he's Tate's dad as well which is it's own little post)
Loves playing cards against humanity while drunk
Has played not so child friendly campaigns for DD&mD (if you catch my drift)
Monster fucker
Learned multiple languages after going through the portal, and then learned sign language for Stan when he came back
Touch starved for sure and will soak up literally any affection given to him
Likes reading to people
Got used to cussing while he was away and slips up in front of the kids constantly (which leads to MANY occasions of one of them saying it and him getting yelled at by Stan who does NOT slip up somehow)
Has ptsd and nightmares due to what happened while he was away and weirdmageddon
Mabel made him a princess unattainabelle dress to wear while playing DD&mD (which he in all honesty adores and does wear multiple times)
Has over 100 tattoos, and is a part of why he wears sweaters (but also because of his scars)
TW Self harm/suicide attempts for the next few
Ford tried to have his extra fingers removed as a teen and then tried to cut them off himself when the doctor's wouldn't do it for him (Stan caught him and stopped him before he could)
Ford attempted suicide 5 times, the first was the night Stan was kicked out and he got rejected by WCT, he tried to overdose but didn't have enough pills to do it. Next was during college, he was stressed out from the work load he had taken on and tried to overdose again, but Fiddleford caught him and saved him. Third time was while he was working with Bill, the demon made some off comment about his family, and Stan, and that set him off, so he tried to slit his throat, once again being saved by Fiddleford. The fourth time was right before Stan showed up, he was going to hang himself if his brother didn't show up, but he did. The final time was about 10 years over on the other side, he lost one of his few friends he had made and was going to shoot himself, but fell through a portal before he could and met Rick Sanchez
While most of Ford's scars are from fighting, there are a lot from him cutting and burning himself when he was younger (and the one on his throat from the one attempt)
Stan also attempted to kill himself, 3 times. First was the night he was kicked out, he tried to drown himself but was pulled to shore by an incredibly worried old man (who he ends up crashing with until he was banned from NJ). Then the second was a few months after the portal incident, he felt hopeless and scared and guilty so he tried to overdose but couldn't keep the pills down and puked them up almost immediately. The last time was the morning the kids were going home, he tries to hang himself, kicks the chair over as soon as Ford comes in to talk to him about the anomalies he found, so luckily he doesn't have the chance to succeed (the kids never find out, Stan made him swear not to tell them)
Stan also has self harm scars, but his are on his stomach and chest, so nobody but Ford, Fiddleford, and Rick know about them
Let me know if anything is spelled wrong/worded oddly and I'll fix it, too much to proofread at the moment😭
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