#Natalie doesn’t deserve him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alltheirdamn · 6 months ago

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 9 Act 1, Scene 1

Summary: Time passes, but the memories remain. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: **THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS** angst, language, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of vomiting (tw for anyone with emetophobia), slight duel pov A/N: Well... the imposter syndrome has hit me HARD. I'm extremely discouraged by this chapter, but i hope its a decent enough follow-up to what y'all read last :/ bear with me, the last two chapters will MORE than make up for it. i promise.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

Time didn’t exist anymore.

You woke up. You went to work. You came home.

Over and over, the cycle went, and the days passed with no significance. You didn’t eat much, your appetite dwindling just as much as your motivation. It started to show in the way your clothes hung on your body and how your face thinned out. If you cared, you would go to the store and actually buy food, but the possibility of running into Joel kept you away.

Joel.

Two weeks had passed since parent-teacher conferences—two weeks since you had hidden the book far away. You considered re-writing your lesson plans for next year; you never wanted to teach Romeo and Juliet again. You weren’t strong enough to analyze a story you had shared so intimately with someone you now considered a stranger because that’s what Joel was now: a stranger. A stranger you could still pick out in a crowd of a million people, a stranger whose lips were still imprinted on your skin even after countless hours spent in the shower.

He was a stranger, and you hated him.

You were perched on the couch with a glass of wine—as most nights went now—when your cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. You didn’t reach for it initially; it was most likely your mom. She had tried calling a handful of times since you had hung up on her weeks ago. You never once called back, but you listened to the voicemails when you were drunk enough. Your dad had been discharged last week and started physical therapy for his hip. Stella and her boyfriend were moving in together somewhere in downtown Boston. And Beth…your mom never once uttered her name. She knew better than to do that.

But the continuous buzzing of your phone began to irritate you, and you reached for it with an exasperated sigh. An unknown number flashed on the screen, igniting a sudden burst of anxiety inside your chest. Setting your glass down, you inhaled and answered the phone.

“Hello?” You cautioned.

Your name filtered through the receiver, a voice you weren’t expecting to hear.

“Bennett?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he sighed.

“I didn’t think you’d reach out,” you said. “I tried to see you in the hospital, but Natalie…” You let your voice drift off.

“I know. She’s not big on the idea of talking to you at all.”

“I’m so sorry again, Bennett. Joel shouldn’t have done that. I really don’t understand why it got to that point. I—.”

“I deserved it,” he said, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You shook your head, your fingers knotting through the tangles in your hair.

“No, Bennett. No, you didn’t. He could have killed you,” you argued.

“He’s a man of his word, I’ll give him that,” he laughed.

It was odd to hear Bennett talk so casually about this as if Joel hadn’t pummeled him into the ground. He should be mad, so why wasn’t he?

“Should I be waiting for a call from your lawyer soon?” You asked wearily.

“If I wanted to come after you or Joel legally, I would be the one to do it. But that’s not happening,” he sighed. “It's too messy of a situation, and I really don’t want to go through the hassle. Natalie says otherwise, but she doesn’t really understand the situation.”

“The situation,” you echoed. “Joel told me his side of things after they took you to the hospital. I still don’t remember anything, Bennett. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to reach you. You left. You disappeared completely and broke my heart.”

There was a beat of silence. You took the opportunity to down the last of your wine, the beginnings of a light buzz coursing through your veins. Don't get angry, you told yourself. You didn’t feel much of anything anymore, but anger was never too far out of reach. Sitting with that emotion and festering in it was easy if you let yourself. Bennett deserved your anger just as much as the rest of them, but you needed answers more than you needed to feel anything.

“There’s a lot to explain,” he finally said. “I’m not sure if you even want to see me again, but I can drive up to Austin this weekend and tell you everything. Or at least everything from my side.”

Seeing Bennett again would unfurl so many unchecked emotions: heartbreak, betrayal, grief. But it would be something you needed. Joel wasn’t the one you were with those two years following the accident; he wasn’t the one you had walked down the aisle expecting to see. Bennett had been with you through it all. You wanted to hear it from his mouth. You wanted an apology and an explanation.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “We can do that. Will Natalie have an issue with it?”

“Natalie won’t know.”

“You’re going to lie to your wife?” You laughed bitterly at his admission. He was still the same person through and through.

“She’s fine,” he huffed through the phone. “She doesn’t understand any of this anyway.”

“Whatever you say, Bennett. We can meet at a coffee shop this weekend. Don’t abandon me again. I deserve an explanation.”

“I won’t.”

The guilt in his voice was thick, and you relished knowing he was suffering. Everyone, not just you, deserved to suffer for what they did.

You quickly ended the call with Bennett and returned to the silence surrounding you. Knowing you’d see him in just a few days was unsettling and uncomfortable. The lingering grief he had left still hollowed out your heart. No amount of apologies would fill it, but it could sew up the remaining holes.

What couldn’t be filled was the gaping hole Joel had left within your heart. Secrets wrapped in scar tissue and carnage that could never be fully healed, and it still infuriated you that your love for him still festered inside. It buried itself deep under the confines of your numbness, but sometimes, when you lay awake at night, you could still feel it. You ached for him in growing unbearable ways, but you had to continue with your life.

You hadn't prepared yourself to see Bennett the first go around, and you had since thrown out the shirt still stained with his blood. Now, you were standing amid a pile of clothes strewn around your feet, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, and a face that screamed insomnia. You looked beyond amends.

After another hour of procrastination and a ticking timeline, you threw on the most basic T-shirt and jeans and left your hair a wet mess.

It was only Bennett.

It wasn’t serious.

Nothing was these days.

You pulled into a spot in front of a cafe a little ways into town, your car sitting idle as you stared at the storefront. You could faintly make out Bennett’s silhouette sitting in the window, yet your body wouldn’t move. You were feet from all the answers, but the anxiety bubbling inside you made you immobile. Did you actually want this? Was it better to be blissfully unaware?

Would the answers hurt you more than help you?

Before the constant questions led you to flee, you opened your door and decided to face the truth. Walking into the cafe, your eyes connected with Bennett, and your heart sank. Even from a distance, the scarring on his face was horrible: a thick, red, jagged line stretching down his temple and ending at his cheekbone. Another raised scar creased his left eyebrow, dragging down the arch over his eye.

Joel did this.

Inhaling, you met him at the table, sliding into the chair without a word. Bennett’s lips curled into a smug smile, one you still hated, and his eyes glazed over your body.

“You look like shit,” he stated.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

He shrugged, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Your eyes flicked down to the ring on his finger, the gold shimmering through the sunlight hitting the windows.

“She really has no idea you’re here?” You questioned, nodding your head towards his hand.

Bennett glanced down at his wedding band, his fingers twisting around the metal mindlessly.

“No, she doesn’t. She thinks I’m out of town on business.”

“And where’s home for you now?” You asked. “I never really found out since you up and left without a trace.” You tried to swallow the bitterness coating over your words.

“I live in Houston now. I found a firm seeking out a junior partner and settled down in the city,” he explained. “Trust me, I didn’t want to leave my life here, but it was the only option.”

You studied him momentarily, watching any signs in his body language that would frame him as a liar. But you found nothing to fault.

“What do you mean it was the only option?”

Bennett leaned forward, intertwining his hands together.

“What exactly did Joel fill you in on?” Bennett asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You shifted in your seat. Bennett’s words hit a nerve inside you, one that was buried deep within the numbness and itching to revive itself on a spark of anger. Was there more Joel had kept from you? How much more heartbreak could you take before you completely withered away?

“He said you and I broke up after we moved to Austin,” you started. “That’s when I met him, and we started dating. I don’t know specifics or much more, but Joel said that when I woke up in the hospital, I asked for you, and that’s when my parents decided to reach out to you and cover up my memory.”

“He left out… a lot,” he emphasized.

“Oh.”

“So, where do you want me to start then?”

You chewed on your lip, glancing outside as the cars drove down the main road. If you had told yourself two years ago you’d be sitting in front of your ex-fiance learning about a life you never knew existed… you’d laugh. You’d laugh and tell yourself you’d gone crazy.

“From the beginning,” you sighed.

Bennett leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. His eye twitched, the tight scar scrunching the skin around it. You averted your eyes, dropping your gaze to your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

“Obviously, you remember us moving to Austin,” he started. “It was probably a month or two after that when we started arguing a lot. You were always mad at me for working too much. You complained all the time that I wasn’t present or whatever.” You deadpanned him when he said those words; it was the same as the arguments you remembered during the engagement. Bennett shrugged off your glare and continued. “Anyway, you finally got fed up with everything and called it quits. You moved in with your teacher friend, whatever her name is… I don’t remember.”

“Maria,” you grumbled. “Her name is Maria.”

“Right, yeah.” Bennett quirked a grin as if he knew the buttons he was pushing. “So, you moved in with Maria and must’ve met Joel shortly after that. We didn’t keep in touch during those two years, but I missed you—a lot.”

Now, it was your turn to hit him with a rueful grin. He was so full of shit, just like you remembered.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” you scoffed.

“Believe whatever you want, but I did miss you. Even with all our fights, I loved you,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so after a while, I decided to reach out. I asked if we could go to dinner and talk, you know, work things out. I didn’t expect you to agree to it, but you did. And you know what happened? You laughed. You laughed at everything I said. You told me you were finally happy and in love and that you’d never consider the chance of getting back together. You sure do know how to hurt a man's pride.”

“You probably deserved it,” you said, shrinking back into your chair.

“Yeah, probably,” Bennett exhaled. “Doesn’t matter now, though. Anyway, after dinner, you left, and that’s when the accident happened. I had no idea until your parents called me to the hospital and explained it all to me. Looking back now, I can see how incredibly fucked up it all was, but I wanted a second chance. Joel wasn’t happy with the plan at all. As a matter of fact, he punched the shit out of me right when I walked into the room.”

“What?” You balked.

Bennett laughed dismissively, running a hand over his jaw. You tracked his moments, imagining what Joel must have looked like when he saw Bennett that night. An unwelcomed pang of guilt swarmed inside your chest, not for Bennett, but for Joel. You still hated him, but you couldn’t image the pain he had felt knowing he was losing you. The guilt subsided as you reminded yourself he had a choice to step in, but he allowed it all to happen anyway. He was an accomplice to your parent’s plans. He didn’t fight for you, and that realization stung.

“You alright?” he asked, tilting his head to study you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you faltered. “Just—just keep going.”

“Okay,” he cautioned. “I agreed to go along with your parent's plan. I knew it was fucked up, and I knew it would bite everyone in the ass one day, but I did it because I loved you. I wanted a do-over with you, and it felt like the perfect opportunity.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. If this conversation had happened weeks ago, you would have reacted differently, but there was no anger left to exhaust. You couldn’t be angry at Bennett, at least not for this. You were still allowed to resent him for what he did during the engagement and for leaving you at the altar, but this? This wasn’t something he did; he went along with everything because he loved you…supposedly. That was still arguable.

“So, you got your perfect opportunity and decided to fuck it up.”

Bennett inhaled sharply, drawing his lips into a thin line. There he was, the asshole you remembered. He didn’t like when you called him on his shit, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“I tried to make it work,” he argued. “I mean, I tried the best I could. I didn’t want to lose you again. So, yeah, I might’ve tried to prevent the chances of you getting your memories back, but it was because I loved you. Then I just got sick of trying. I got sick of you always asking questions and me having to lie. It was exhausting. And then you started saying Joel’s name in your sleep, and I just—.”

“Wait,” you interjected, holding up your hand. “I—I said his name in my sleep?”

Bennett laughed, running a hand over his face. There was a shift in his demeanor, a mixture of anger and sadness.

“Why do you think I slept on the couch most nights? I couldn’t fucking stand it,” he grumbled.

“Bennett, I didn’t fucking know I was doing that!” You shouted. A few people turned their heads at the rise in your voice, but you didn’t care. The anger was awakening inside you again, pounding to get out of the cage you had locked it in.

“Yeah, I know,” Bennett said, rolling his eyes. “I still hated it. I hated knowing that even when you slept, you still loved him. I was never going to be the person to make you happy.”

Tears stung your waterline, and you swiped them away before they could fall.

“That’s why you left.” It wasn’t a question. It was a realization.

“I called Joel the night before the wedding,” he confessed, cringing at the admission. “I told him how I felt, and he told me to leave. Well, he didn’t tell me… It was more like he threatened me. He told me that if I didn’t, he’d find me. We both agreed to stay out of your life, and I think you can piece together the rest.”

You sat before him, speechless. You knew it all along; you were the reason Bennett was unhappy. Instinctively, you always knew it. But hearing it aloud? That was a pain you weren’t ready for. Everything was your fault, from beginning to end. Bennett couldn’t love you, Joel couldn’t fight for you.

Why were you so unloveable?

None of this was your fault, yet everything pointed directly back at you.

You had nothing left to say to Bennett, so you shoved away from the table and fumbled for your purse. He said your name cautiously, grabbing your wrist before you could turn away. You tried to free yourself from his hold, but he squeezed tighter.

“Stop!” You snapped.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Bennett pleaded. “I really am, whether you believe it or not. I fucked up a lot, and I regret the way I left. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“This apology would have meant a lot more two years ago, Bennett,” you cried, still trying to free yourself.

“I know it would have, but I’m doing it now. Alright? I’m sorry for everything I put you through, and I know none of this has been easy for you—.”

“You don’t know shit,” you seethed.

You finally wrangled yourself out of his grip, rubbing your wrist to alleviate the pain from his touch. Bennett stared at you, agonized. You had walked in here hoping for an apology and got it. But it wasn’t enough. What was the point in all of this if nothing healed the pain inside you?

You stumbled out of the cafe with blurry eyes, the cage bars inside you breaking piece by piece. It was only minutes before the anger fully consumed you, and you needed to leave before you let it wreak havoc on everything around you. You needed silence. You needed solitude. You needed a hole to crawl into.

Before you could open your car door, Bennett called out your name and tore you away from the swirling thoughts inside your mind. You tried to ignore him, but he was relentless. Whipping around to face him, you came face first with his chest as he pulled you into an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tightening his arms around your ridged body. “Hate me all you want, but don’t hate Joel. I can have my own grievances with him, but he loves you more than I ever could.”

You slumped into his chest, letting the anger overwhelm you to the point of complete defeat. Crying in Bennett’s arms was the last place you ever expected to be in, but here you were, sobbing into your ex-fiance’s chest. He held you through each wave of emotions, remaining solid and silent.

“Hey,” Bennett whispered, pulling away. “Obviously, I don’t know shit about what’s going on with you, but it’s going to be okay. It’ll take time, but you’re going to be alright. I hope you get those memories back one day. I really do. You deserve to remember the things you lost, and I’m sorry for ever getting in the way of that.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, wiping away the tears streaming down your face.

Bennett gave you a soft smile and said his goodbyes. You watched him as he retreated to his car, waiting for him to drive away. As you turned toward your car again, you glanced up at the hardware store across the street, meeting the eyes of someone familiar. Someone you didn’t expect to see.

Joel’s brother, Tommy.

The resentful glare in his eye was deadly, and you couldn’t hide from it. He saw you with Bennett. He would tell Joel, even without knowing what had just transpired. For a brief moment, you wanted to rush over and explain everything to him, but you stopped yourself. It didn’t matter what he told Joel—at least, that’s what you told yourself. You could only shy away from Tommy’s scrutinizing stare and duck into your car.

You had been gone too long from your numbness, and you missed it. It was time to bury yourself in your sadness once again and continue trying to unlove Joel Miller.

Joel dumped his tools on the dining table with an exasperated sigh. He immediately reached for the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping it open in one fluid motion. As he leaned against the counter with the bottle at his lips, Joel heard the garage door slam shut. Peering around the corner, he tracked Tommy’s movements as he walked into the kitchen.

“What crawled up your ass?” Joel grumbled.

Tommy shrugged off his button-up and tossed it over a dining chair. He ran a hand through his greasy black curls before glancing at Joel. Joel shifted uncomfortably, trying to make sense of Tommy’s demeanor.

“Seriously, Tommy,” Joel huffed. “Spit it the fuck out.”

“I saw her downtown,” Tommy finally said. “She was with that ex-fiance. The one you almost killed.”

Joel swore he felt his heart stop beating. Tommy must have seen wrong; it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. You wouldn’t seek out Bennett, not after everything. You weren’t even seeking Joel out, even after two weeks of earth-shattering silence.

“Are y’sure it was her?” Joel asked through clenched teeth.

Tommy nodded, his eyes drawn to the floor.

“Yeah, it was her. Not sure what was goin’ on between them, but I saw them huggin’ and all that outside of a lil’ cafe,” Tommy explained.

“Probably doesn’t mean nothin’,” Joel shrugged, trying to let denial take over.

If he could deny it, then none of this was real. You weren’t with Bennett again—that wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t do that. Bennett wouldn’t do that. Maybe Joel should have killed him. It would have torn you apart, but at least Joel could sleep at night knowing Bennett would never be in your life again.

“Joel,” Tommy said, pulling him from his vengeful thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter!” Joel yelled, slamming his beer bottle onto the counter.

The glass rattled between his fingers, and a slow trickle of liquid began seeping out of the crack he created. Joel glanced down at it, unbothered.

“She’s not comin’ back, man,” Tommy sighed. “Y’gotta start movin’ on.”

“Go fuck yourself, Tommy,” Joel snapped.

He shoved off the counter and began to retreat down the hall, but not quick enough for Tommy. Tommy sidestepped in front of him, arms folded and a scowl twisting his lips. Joel knew Tommy hated everything about this situation, but he wasn’t the one experiencing the pain. He was just a bystander in all of this; he didn’t lay awake every night tossing over your words inside his head.

I will never forgive you for this.

Joel wasn’t losing you. He already lost you.

“Listen, Joel. I know this is hard on you, but y’gotta face the truth. She’s gone, man. I know you tried your best to get her back, but it’s just not gonna happen. She deserves to make her own decisions for her life.”

“I know,” Joel sighed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love her, still.”

Tommy’s brown eyes softened as he looked at Joel, his head dipping in agreement.

“No one said y’had to stop lovin’ her,” Tommy offered.

“I don’t think I ever will,” Joel said.

Joel didn’t sleep much that night. Tossing between the sheets, Joel couldn’t steer away the thoughts of you in another man's arms—let alone Bennett’s. When Joel had seen you at parent-teacher conferences, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He knew you had taken the news rough, but seeing you so physically distraught was another type of pain he hadn’t been prepared for. You were a hollow shell of the woman he loved; your voice held so much bitterness when you spoke to him. Your eyes didn’t look at him with love…it was his own personal Hell. Parting ways with you like that nearly killed him, but not knowing what was going on in your life killed him more. Joel had spent two years in limbo after your accident, always wondering what life would be like if he had you back. And then he had it. He had three beautiful months with you, albeit they were spent wearing rose-colored glasses, but he had you again.

In the blink of an eye, in one messy series of events, he lost you.

He lost you, and he knew you’d never come back.

~Six months later~

You thought time would heal the wounds left inside your chest, but you were wrong. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nothing felt better. You stopped talking to your family altogether, and the phone calls stopped coming after some time. Beth never tried to reconcile with you, nor did you try to fight for answers. Having your heart broken by Joel and Bennett was one thing, but having it broken by your sister was a different kind of pain. It was visceral. It was a betrayal so brutal you still had yet to recover. Thinking of the things she had said to you in Boston only left you with debilitating headaches; her words festered deeper than anyone else’s.

The truth is that you are a fucking idiot. And on top of that, you’re a coward.

You weren’t the coward; Beth was. She chose to hold onto those secrets for the last few years and weaponize them against you. You weren’t the idiot; you were the victim. You were the victim in all of this, yet everyone wanted to pin the aftermath on you.

You were a mad woman, haunting an empty house with no one to confide in. You cut off all friendships with other teachers, especially Maria. You became a hands-off teacher, only going as far as in-class readings, quizzes, and occasional tests when necessary. The students adapted to the shift in your mood, and while you lived with the guilt of becoming that teacher, it was the only way you could survive the work days. The less effort you put into things, the less risk you had for disappointment or frustration.

Sarah avoided you at all costs during class. She no longer participated in class discussions—which were far and few—but kept her head low and her grades satisfactory. Sometimes, you’d catch her watching you during class, her hazel eyes swimming with concern. You couldn’t stomach looking at her for more than a few seconds. You weren’t sure if she ever reported back to Joel about you, and honestly, you didn’t care. Well, maybe sometimes you did. It didn’t happen often, but there were fleeting moments of unwelcome flashbacks to your time with Joel months ago. Flashes of his hands on your body, his crooked smile, his deep voice. They wove through your mind at the worst moments, and everything hurt again.

The school year had finally ended, and your days were filled with endless bouts of nothing. You exhausted everything: plucking weeds in your front yard, rearranging your kitchen cabinets (for the seventh time), building a new bookshelf…You found anything you could to keep yourself busy and the wandering thoughts at bay.

The Texas heat was becoming unbearable, so you opted to spend the weekend indoors, siphoning through your closet. Heaps of clothes cluttered the ground around you as you tore apart each shelf, miscellaneous keepsakes piled in the corner. It wasn’t until you were elbow-deep in the crevices of your closet that you found the book.

Romeo and Juliet.

The flimsy spine and dog-eared pages taunted you. You sat motionless with your hands hovering over the book, torn between flipping through the pages and setting it on fire. Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and you remained paralyzed, stuck in limbo between the past and present. You’d tell yourself it was a moment of weakness, but you grabbed the book and let your hands move through the pages.

“Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.

And, to sink in it, should you burden love;

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,

Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

If love be rough with you, be rough

with love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.”

The words hit you harder than you expect. Staring at the margins of the pages, scribbled with your words and thoughts, you blinked back tears. You thought you were strong enough for this. Tossing the book halfway across the bathroom, you succumbed to the tears that pooled in your eyes. Laying on the messy floor, you wrapped your arms around your shins and stared at the book as it taunted you from across the room. Your eyes caught onto something peeking out of the pages, and you slowly tilted your head.

That wasn’t…

No.

You couldn’t pull yourself to your feet, so you decided to crawl to where the book lay. As you got closer, you started to make out the grainy features of Joel plastered onto a Polaroid. With shaking fingers, you lifted it into the light, your eyes growing wide. Basked in the hue of sunset sat Joel, his broad torso dressed in a white shirt, with the biggest smile plastered on his face captured in a moment of laughter. Something sparked inside your chest as you stared at it longer, your eyes memorizing every softened feature of Joel’s face. He still had that patchy beard you were so familiar with, the sparse spots along his jaw no different than they were now. Creases around his closed eyes proved that his laughter in the photo had been genuine.

You missed his smile.

Shaking away those tender thoughts, you tried to pull yourself to your feet, only to have your ankle caught in a strap of a dress, sending you crashing to the floor. Your arms tried to brace for impact, but you didn’t catch yourself in time. Your body smacked against the corner of your shower door, your head taking most of the impact.

And everything went dark.

“Sarah, you’re a mess!” You laughed.

Her curls were caked with mud, and half her clothes were soaked. You, Joel, and Sarah had decided to drive into the small town outside the campground for dinner, and of course, you got caught in the rain. As you all made a beeline for the diner, Sarah tripped into a huge puddle between cars, splattering rainwater and mud all over herself. Joel couldn’t contain his laughter, and neither could you.

Joel took a seat on the beach outside the diner, trying to catch his breath from laughing, but every time he glanced up at Sarah’s messy face, he lost it all over again. You scrambled through your backpack to find your Polaroid camera, snapping a quick picture.

“Hey!” Joel laughed, grabbing you by the waist and dragging you down to the bench.

“What?” You asked innocently. “It was the perfect opportunity! Plus, you look extra handsome right now.”

“Handsome, huh?” He smirked, peeking you on the cheek.

You shook the Polaroid as it developed, presenting him with the proof. He was handsome. So fucking handsome. Joel reached for the camera in your hands, turning it quickly on you. You stuck out your tongue, trying to hold back another fit of laughter.

“Perfect,” he grinned before turning toward Sarah.

“Alright, kiddo. Smile!”

“Dad, stop!” Sarah wined.

But Joel was too fast, the camera shutter going off right in time to capture Sarah’s big pout.

Each of you had a Polaroid now, picture proof of a happy family.

Pinpricks of pain stabbed into each side of your head as you finally roused from your sleep. You squinted through the harsh light of the bathroom, letting your eyes readjust to your surroundings. Everything was foggy, but you remembered.

Oh God, you remembered everything.

The nausea was quick to hit you, and you scrambled to the toilet. You weren’t sure if the fall was to blame for the sudden disruption to your body or the memories slamming back into place, but you were helplessly stuck with your head over the toilet. Flash after flash, like the shutter of your camera, everything fell back into place.

“Oof! I’m so sorry!” You said, rubbing your nose.

You had turned the corner too quickly and smashed right into the solid chest of a student’s father.

“S’all my fault, miss.”

The voice alone sent shivers up your spine, but they multiplied as you gazed up into a pair of deep brown eyes. You lost all the words in your vocabulary as you took in the sight of the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was too rugged and masculine to call ‘cute’; handsome fit him so much better. With dark scruff covering his jaw and creases around his eyes, whoever this man was…he was stunning. You were captivated.

“I really should have looked before I turned the corner,” you rambled.

“Don’t go apologizin’,” he said, offering you a kind smile. “I coulda got outta the way.”

“Do you make a habit of taking up an obscene amount of space?” You joked.

“Depends on the hall,” he countered, extending his hand. “Joel Miller.”

You told him your name, then shook your head.

“I should probably keep it professional. You can call me Miss Smith.”

“Nah, don’t need all the formalities here. Your name is just fine.”

“Is your daughter enrolled here?” You asked. It was hard to maintain the color creeping into your cheeks.

“That she is,” he said proudly. “Goin’ into third grade this year. She’s a real good kid.”

“I bet she is. I’m only student teaching while I finish my Master’s program, but I’ll be taking on a position with middle school students next year. Maybe she’ll be my student one day.”

“I reckon she’d be pretty lucky,” he offered.

“Yeah?” Now, you were definitely blushing.

“Yeah,” Joel smiled. “Somethin’ ‘bout you makes me think you’ll be one of the best teachers in the school.”

“That’s a bold statement, given the fact you hardly just met me.”

“I wouldn’t hate it if I got to know you more.”

Your eyes shifted down the hallway, watching for any teachers that might be coming. You weren’t sure what the policy was for flirting with a student’s parent, but it was hard to stop when he was so enticing.

“I don’t think I’d hate it, either.”

Another wave of nausea hit you, and you groaned. The room was spinning, your body ached from falling, and countless memories continued to pile up inside your mind.

You were overwhelmed.

Those two years of nothing became everything in the span of minutes.

Dragon Tales was playing softly in the background as you curled your body around Joel’s. His hand was tracing circles around your shoulder as you both “watched” the TV. Something electric pulsed between your bodies, an unavoidable shift that had continued to unfurl over the last several months. You didn’t know how to verbalize your emotions—at least, not without knowing if he felt the same.

“Joel,” you whispered.

His eyes were already on you when you finally glanced up. It was written all over his face. It was the proof you needed; he felt the same.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I really like you,” you confessed. “Okay, well, maybe I really, really like you.”

“Maybe I really, really like you, too.”

You peeled yourself from his warm body, turning to face him completely.

“I’m gonna say something,” you warned. “Please don’t freak out. It’s okay if you don't—.”

Joel’s lips were pressed against yours before you could finish the sentence. You melted into his touch, your hands coming up to tangle in the messy curls at the nape of his neck. He held you firm to his mouth, his tongue dragging over your bottom lip.

“I love you, baby,” he mumbled. “So much.”

You reeled him in for another frenzied kiss, all your efforts to contain your smile going down the drain. Oh, God. He loved you.

“I love you, Joel.”

You sagged onto the bathroom floor. The throbbing in your head was growing stronger and stronger with each memory. You wanted to tear your brain from your skull and flush it down the toilet, but that wouldn’t help anything. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? All your memories were coming back, and yet, you desperately wished they would fade away again.

You loved Joel.

It was a fact you already knew, but remembering the exact moment you admitted…. You were going to be sick all over again.

“Y’look so pretty in my t-shirt, baby,” Joel hummed.

He lay up against the headboard of the bed while you paced the room. You gripped the binding of your copy of Romeo and Juliet, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. It was hard to focus when his bare chest was on display, the spattering of dark chest hair swirling down his torso and disappearing under the waistband of his boxers.

Focus.

“Don’t distract me!” You pleaded. “Okay, you know how I was talking about how Romeo is just head over heels for Juliet? Get this: they kiss right away in the first act! He’s so bold with how he speaks to her, and then he just kisses her. And Juliet’s response is basically telling Romeo that all of his sin is on her lips now.”

“And what happens next, baby?” Joel asked, quirking a smile.

“Romeo says, ‘Give me my sin again’, and then they kiss… again!”

“Ain’t he just a romantic,” Joel chuckled. “Now, can y’get your sinful ass in bed?”

“What? This one?” You teased, flipping up the hem of his shirt.

Joel’s eyes dropped to your backside as you exposed your naked body, and he nearly went flying across the foot of the bed to grab you. You shrieked with laughter as he tugged you onto the comforter, flipping you onto your back.

“C’mere, baby,” he growled.

His lips trailed down your neck, sucking marks into the skin just below your collarbone. You let out a small whimper and helped guide the t-shirt off your body. Somewhere along the way, your book had dropped to the ground, but you didn’t care. You’d much rather give into the sin of Joel’s lips on your body.

It felt like an eternity had passed when your stomach finally settled. You managed to drag yourself from the floor, staggering your way into the bedroom. The migraine behind your eyes had still yet to subside, so you threw yourself into bed and buried your body under the comforter and pillows. You had everything back—everything you wanted—but why wasn’t it enough?

The images of Joel swam through the pressurized ache inside your mind; his smile refracted in the blinding light of a constant camera shutter. Snapshots of the past dissolved from the darkness, fragmented puzzle pieces slowly molding into place.

Another flash, another memory.

A frustrated scream erupted from your mouth, muffled into the pillows surrounding you. Every thought started and ended with Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. Was this how it felt to go crazy?

It was clear that sleep was evading you; it ran from the thought of Joel quicker than you could. Pulling yourself from the bed, you emerged into the bathroom once again and began rifling through the piles of clothes.

What the hell were you supposed to wear to see someone who was no longer a stranger?

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller pre outbreak #joel miller fic #tlou fic #angst angst angst

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chocostrwberry · 6 months ago

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How my mlb chocoau starts:

Marinette’s alarm wakes her up, and she drowsily turns it off. She checks the time, and signs before getting out of bed. Marinette waiting for the bus to school, but notices a struggling old man with large bags. She checks the time for her bus, then glances back at the old man. She thinks about ignoring him, but can’t bring herself to do it. She helps him, and he thanks her deeply. He insists she takes a pair of earrings, but she says she does not need any gift. She realizes she missed her bus, and is forced to walk all the way to school.

This is directly copy and pasted from my notes, and it is also a LOT OF TEXT. So I apologize for gaps and grammatically incorrect sentences!

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Adrien is driving to school in a limousine. There are fans waiting outside the school, and he steps out with security. A girl is screaming his name, and he turns around and gives her a smile and a wave. Natalie looks at him disapprovingly, but he just smiles back at her. Chloe greets him at the entrance. She runs up to him with a hug and kisses his cheeks. Rose asks Adrien for an autograph, but Chloe insults and declines her. She then tells him that they can’t be nice to people like her or else they’ll come begging for more.

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Class has started, and Marinette gets there just in time. Everyone is looking at her curiously, and the teacher asks her to sit down. Embarrassed, she tries to find an empty seat and sits down. Chloe starts insulting Mylene, saying she is dirty because her father is the janitor. Marinette defends her, and Chloe doesn’t like it.

During break time, she gets the cake for her classmates from her locker. Marinette is walking to class with the cake, but Chloe stops her. She says how pretty it is, and Marinette tries to move past her, but Chloe shoves her and Sabrina trips her from behind, causing the cake to fall and create a mess. Chloe laughs as Sabrina films her on the ground. Marinette looks up Adrien. He looks at her with pity and confusion, but glances at Chloe, who is grinning maliciously at him. He feels pressured to laugh along, so he does, humiliating Marinette.

he runs off to the bathroom and cries in a stall. Alya and Nino go to check on her, but she won’t come out. Alya asks if she can stay in the stall with her, since she doesn’t want to leave, and Marinette says okay.

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Adrien asks Chloe about what she did to Marinette, and Chloe insists she deserves it. She needed to know her place. Chloe tells him not to feel so bad about it, and says it’s not like she can do anything about it. Adrien goes to fidget for his necklace, but realizes he’s not wearing it. Adrien starts to panic and looks around frantically.

Chloe asks what his problem is, but he just runs away, leaving her calling after him.

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Marinette is leaving the bathroom with Alya, wearing Nino’s jacket to cover the cake stains on her shirt. Marinette notices Adrien’s necklace on the ground and picks it up. Alya says it’s pretty, and Marinette says it is Adrien’s. Nino suggests throwing it away or selling it, but Marinette hesitantly says no. Alya urges her, saying he was with Chloe and deserves it. Besides, he probably has countless more priceless ones. Marinette thinks about it, but then decides to do the right thing. She leaves them to go look for Adrien.

She finds him looking around in the courtyard, and tells him she has his necklace. She hands it over, and Adrien is embarrassed yet fascinated by her kindness. She says it’s no big deal, then leaves. He holds the necklace, and a flashback of his mother giving him the necklace. Marinette’s face is still on his mind.

Marinette is in her room after school when she realizes she has the earrings the old man tried to give her. She puts them on, and summons Tikki on accident.

She screams, trying to swat her away, but Tikki insists she calms down.

Tikki explains who she is to Marinette who is still in shock. She warns her about the danger of Hawkmoth, and how when he finds out she has the miraculous, he will come for her.

Marinette is terrified, and asks what she can do to defend herself. Tikki tells her about the summoning phrase, but Marinette accidentally repeats it and becomes Ladybug.

Ladybug is surprised, but decides to test her powers. She zips around Paris, and ends up on the news, where Hawkmoth sees. He creates an akuma to take back the miraculous.

Ladybug realizes she needs to fight it, like Tikki said, but struggles to do so.

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Adrien is shopping with Chloe, and the Akuma creates a disaster. He rushes Chloe and Sabrina behind a tree, but sees a woman with her baby stuck. Without hesitation, he runs to help the woman even though there is danger all around them. Master Fu sees this, and slips him the cat miraculous by shaking his hand and saying something in Chinese, confusing Adrien momentarily.

Adrien encourages Chloe to go home, and he is about to as well. When he is alone, Plagg emerges and says they don’t have time to get through introductions.

He says that girl with the spotted outfit needs his help, and only Adrien can save her. Adrien asks why he would do that, and Plagg gives a half-baked response saying it’s because he’s a “good person”.

Marinette’s face comes to mind, and he wants to be like her. So he agrees.

PERSPECTIVE CHANGE

Ladybug is growing tired of evacuating citizens and defending. Soon she will have no energy left to actually fight the akuma.

Ladybug is about to cry, but realizes she is the city’s only hope against this villain. So, she uses her bug-sight to devise a plan. However, she is too clumsy and tired to execute it and ends up failing and falling. She is caught by a mysterious figure

She looks up dreamily at her rescuer, and he introduces himself hastily as Chat Noir

Ladybug notices another civilian needs help, and goes to help them. Chat noir quickly has to defend them both from flying rubble while she gets them to safety.

Chat Noir asks for a plan, and Ladybug says she has one, but it’s hard to get it to work. Chat Noir says he’ll do whatever she asks, and Ladybug blushes while saying thank you.

Chat Noir tries to attack the akuma, but it swats him away. Ladybug expresses concerns but Chat Noir seems exhilarated. The akuma realizes both of the miraculous are there, so they attack them. Chat Noir guides Ladybug to safety while they both run away.

Ladybug says they need to bring the akuma to the football field, since there should be no one there. She tries to explain her plan, but Chat Noir doesn’t understand any of it, so he simply says he’ll go along with it.

They get to the football field, and Ladybug lucky charms because she needs an extra tool.

She uses her bug sight to formulate a plan, and with his help they tie up the akuma. They are excited, and they seem to be having fun working together.

Once the akuma is taken down, Ladybug notices the butterfly. Chat Noir is about to shoot it down, but Ladybug stops him and cleanses the butterfly instead before fixing all the damage.

Ladybug helps the akumatized person up, asking if he’s alright. Chat Noir notices and smiles.

The press is there to interview their heroes, and Ladybug looks disoriented. Chat Noir holds her hand and tells her to “smile and wave”. They look great together :)

THE END! :D

#chocoau #mlb au #mlb #miraculous ladybug #lowkey cringe but I am free #I could write a fanfic about this #but I lowkey don’t have time #I have literally four seasons worth of material on me rn #I might have completely rewritten miraculous??#chocoau lore

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crushedsweets · 1 year ago

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How would the other pastas/proxies react if Toby died during a mission?

Writing on my phone in the car 10 mins before my shift forgive me… finished during my lunch break…

Tim would try really really fucking hard to pretend he doesn’t care all that much. He’s already lost plenty of friends/colleagues (directly or indirectly) to the operator and slenderman, and he always treated Toby like he was a pain in the ass, but like. Him and Brian took Toby in when he was just 17-18, he tried to make him a better man, the two of them have done abhorrent shit together and had to return to the cabin like nothing happened. He’d cry, spend long hours thinking about Toby, thinking about how much of a dick he was to the kid. But he’s strong . Kinda

Brian wouldn’t try to pretend he doesn’t care, although he is in a very similar boat to Tim. Took him in, guided him, hurt him - he would probably be the one to set up a grave of some sort for Toby, whether or not they even have his body to bury. The rest of them wouldn’t be able to do it

It’s possible that Kate wouldn’t even find out for a long fucking while. But she would cry, and mourn, and she would start going back to the cabin and she would sleep in the attic (Toby’s room) and it would be shitty. Toby was the only proxy to treat her like a person and they were both outcasts in their own right, both being the closest to perfect vessels slenderman/the operator could get . So it would suck ass.

I think Natalie would just die too. Ok not really but he was the first person to really just. Take care of her. And she really trusted that he would never ever leave her, not like everyone else . She would be angry, pissed beyond belief and she would cry and scream and throw around any of the gifts he’s ever gotten her and smash some shit he’s made her - and it wouldn’t be fair, and she would regret it, and hopefully someone would be there to pull her back before she legitimately fucks it all up, but she can’t get rid of that anger. Like Kate, she would go to the cabin. Being there too long gets her really bad slender sickness, she’s not immune like the others, but she doesn’t really care. Everything hurt so bad anyway, the screaming and crying already brought her nausea and migraines. Her and Kate would just silently lounge around his bedroom for hours everyday. Natalie is a tattoo artist with little to no tattoos bc commitment issues is a big thing for her, but she would get a little something to honor Toby

Jack would mourn . Toby used to bring flowers to his mom for Mother’s Day, because Jack couldn’t bare to be in a 10 mile radius of his family. He would try to host something for people, just invite them over and make some food and try to talk and have comfort. Only Natalie and Nina would come by choice, not because the rest don’t care but it’s just something they can’t handle to do. Kate might get dragged along. It would be painful and uncomfortable and probably just result in an argument of sorts, depending on how far along Natalie is in the grieving process . He would visit the grave Brian made for toby quite often.

Nina would be constantly crying, all the time. She’s had shitty men after shitty men in her life, the only good guys she’s had were her father and brother and she went ahead and left them behind to go seek out Jeff - but Toby was good(to a point, obviously). He was rough around the edges but he was protective, he took care of her, he defended her even if she didn’t deserve it. She and Natalie would probably have a few intense arguments because they’re two sides of the same coin in their grieving , with Natalie having constant explosive anger and Nina having long, drawn out grieving and sobbing. It would be a bit much for both of them. She would mope around her apartment for a long while.

BEN would also be pretty sad, but not nearly as much as the rest. He would talk it out with Jeff but wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t mourn , would just keep going. Jeff wouldn’t give a shit, would say it was bound to happen and to move on

Ann and Lulu would be pretty bummed out too, but Ann moves on pretty quickly. For Ann it’s more so a sad “Aw but he was fun”… lulu is too lost in her own head to spend too much time on it, but she’s undeniably sad when she’s reminded

Sally would also be sad, but similarly to BEN, she would move on. Cry to Jane about it and cope. Jane would think it’s sad, but she wouldn’t dwell on it either - she wasn’t close to him, she only knew him in passing whenever Sally got lost in the forest.

Liu doesn’t know Toby well so he wouldn’t think much, but Nina would cry to Liu about it a lot and it would be pretty depressing for him too. Just by watching how it affects Nina

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #Masky #hoody #creeped #clockwork #natalie oullette #natalie ouellette #Nina the killer #Kate the chaser #I don’t think I wanna tag everyone I’m lazy #asks

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aajjks · 1 year ago

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The Conqueror (XX)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader.

warnings. yändërê bëhäv*öür, töxīc!jk, öbsëssïön, mänhändlïng, mëntïöns öf cryïng, mürdêr, mïnd gämës, ässh*lë jungkook. D-RK THËMËS ÂHÊÂD.

series masterlist.

note. plz hi, forgive me for the delay xx send asks for tc characters, send feedback n ENJOY!

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @sprinkleoftee @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @bangtannoonalvg @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @lanalanexpjm @namjooncrabs @shadowmoon21 @kookunot @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @silversparkles11 @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie (I can’t tag anymore people, it’s full 😭😭)

Jungkook hides his face into your neck and clutches your body tightly, not giving you any time to think about what’s happening, all you can hear and feel is his panicked breath and his tight hold on your body.

You’re freaking out as your brain slowly starts to process what’s happening, his body feels too hot so close to yours, he’s burning.

“W-What’s wrong, what a-are you doing here?” You try to move away from him but the large man doesn’t let you, you tilt your head back to look at him, and you can’t help but gasp.

He’s crying.

A monster like him is crying.

“Y-YN!” He cries out your name, looking at you with his red tear filled eyes, you cannot understand how can someone so cruel like him look so vulnerable like this, the expression on his face almost pulls at your heartstrings.

“I-I need you!” Jungkook can barely manage to speak coherent words, his voice is thick with emotion, you don’t want to look at him. He disgusts you.

But his eyes are begging you, you find it hard to keep your composure from becoming weak, you try to get his hands away from you, but he only pulls you closer to him.

“Let me go.” You demand, “I can’t help you.” You turn your gaze away from him, fate is too cruel, how can you even feel bad for the man who’s responsible for your ruin, for your family’s death?

You should be happy to see him like this, because the only thing he deserves is pain.

But yet, a small part of you is urging you to listen to him,

“NO! You need t-to comfort me YN!” You turn again to glare at him as the small glimmer of sympathy dies down within you, his tone is demanding and he’s looking at you like you’re some heartless monster.

The audacity of him.

How can he even demand your care, your comfort when he doesn’t deserve it, you want to strangle him, you wish you could but you’re not too brave.

You can’t kill him, even if you want to. Because you’re not like him, you’re not a killer. “No, get away from me, your majesty.” You whisper, trying your best to conceal your anger.

His gaze turns angry soon at that, oh oh looks like you’ve pissed him off. Good for you.

He deserves it.

“What d-did you say? HUH?” Jungkook glares daggers into your face, he gets up and pins you to your bed, putting your hands above your head, you immediately start struggling against him, he doesn’t deserve anything! Jungkook pushes his knee between your struggling legs and growls.

“Get away from you huh? NEVER!” He knows you’re not strong enough to stand up for yourself against him, “fucking heartless bitch!”

You hate him so much.

He’s crazy, selfish and incredibly self entitled. How could he expect you to ever love him or accept him as your future husband.

“LET ME GO YOU PSYCHO!” You spit at him, “I fucking hate you so much, you ruined my life!” You hate how he treats you, you’re not an object that he can play with however he wants to.

He needs a reality check.

“You hate me because of HIM! Don’t you? That fucking bastard better be burning in hell!” You bite the inside of your cheek, “I HATE YOU BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Jungkook starts to laugh, your heartbeat is rapid, your throat feels so scarify and dry, and this maniac on top of you is busy laughing.

“O-Oh wow…” he breathes, you can see his teeth clearly, his mouth is so wide with the way he’s laughing, you start to feel concerned.

Jungkooks laughter is uncontrollable, and he’s trapped you. You wish that he would let you go, forget about you, but when you look at him? You know well he’s never going to leave you.

Only if you die, but he wouldn’t leave you even in death.

There is no escaping him.

“I wonder how much you’ll hate your precious father if I told you the truth about him, eh baby?” He taunts you, the tears in his eyes are still there, glossing over his eyes but he’s smirking at you.

His words surprise you, is this one of his mind games? What does he mean by that? “W-What do you mean?!” You feel hot tears gather, he’s so cruel, “answer m-me!” Your voice breaks pathetically.

You know he’s enjoying this, Jungkook frees on his hands to touch your cheek, caressing the skin tenderly, he swipes his thumb across the liquid that falls from your eyes, not responding to you.

Asshole!

“Not now baby. Maybe another day, or..” he looks at you intensely, inhaling a deep breath, he’s got you holding your breath, you feel so sick.

“I’ll tell you about it on our wedding night. yes. So I hope you’re looking forward to us getting married, because I am.” He presses a kiss on your cheek.

“Now I’ve got to leave.”

A tear escapes your eye as he climbs off you, relief doesn’t come. All you feel is pain as you hear the king’s footsteps become distant.

Attending the royal court was the most boring part of Jungkooks life, all he wanted to do was spend time with you, talk to you, and lay in your embrace.

But he knew today was really important, so he decided to attend, it was exciting. Even if he was exhausted.

Jungkook walked in with authority as the court’s doors opened, he cringed as the voice of the head guard graced his ears,

He was being too loud and Jungkook was sleep deprived.

But everyone needed to know that their King was here.

“Stand attentive, 주상 전하 [Jusang jeonha] of Jeon Dynasty is entering the 왕실 [wangsil]”

Jungkook walked into the huge hallway, looking around to notice all the governors and political figures standing up, bowing their heads to him.

He smirked.

“I am here to announce a very important matter, but before I go ahead. I do not want anyone’s opinions or opposition.” He sits down on his throne, and makes sure to assert his authority.

The voices of the people agreeing echo and he nods, “I intend on marrying.”

The gasps of surprise don’t bother Jungkook in the slightest, “Yes. And my bride is going to be chief consort L/N Y/N.”

Governor Lim stands up abruptly and Jungkook is quick to notice that, he clenched his fist as he watches the old man’s expressions.

He is in the mood to kill someone today. Maybe it’ll be governor Lim.

“Yes, Governor Lim?”

“Pyeha!” (폐하) the old man bows his head down, “L/N isn’t of Nobel blood, I would like to apologise for my words but you as a king can’t possibly marry a- “YES I CAN GOVERNOR, are you just mad that it’s not Lim Moon I wish to marry?”

Jungkook traces his finger on the thrones patterns, “sit down, old man. Or… I’ll make sure you and your whore of a daughter lose your head if you object to my marriage.”

He gives the cowering man a cruel smile, “like I said, no objections.”

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honeycrispjamz · 5 months ago

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No one ever brings up how absolutely… fucked this scene is when you take some things into consideration.

When this scene takes place, it has only been a few days—maybe a week—since the plane crashed and Ben’s leg was injured. In that short amount of time, Misty has made it her responsibility to tend to not just Ben’s overall physical well-being but his mental well-being as well. At this point in the show, someone might assume she took on this kind of pseudo-motherly role because she believes Ben might have feelings for her too, or because she has her own sadistic fantasies she wants to play out in the safety of the wilderness.

However, in the pilot, we aren’t given any hints that they had a good or healthy relationship before the crash for Misty to misinterpret to begin with. In fact, we’ve seen numerous times (even before the crash) that Misty is tiring to Ben, and her attempts to connect with him only result in him being cruel/pessimistic towards her. He isn’t close with her like he is with Natalie or Travis, and they lack the usual close relationship found at the basis of most ‘forbidden romances’ (aka sexual abuse) between mentors and students.

It is more likely that, at this point, Misty is taking care of him out of the kindness of her heart, with a bit of it definitely fueled by her own personal desire to be needed. But I don’t think she really thinks he likes her back at this point, nor do I think she is unaware that he kind of despises her. I think it’s more of a one-sided crush than anything, something she knows won’t happen but still entertains.

So what happens? What changes?

This happens. I think Misty has learned, either through observation or her own lived experience, that people will never give her what she needs. So, she takes whatever she gets instead. Because what else can she do? When Ben hits her and screams at her, she takes that rejection and pain and morphs it into something she needs: attention. It doesn’t matter if he’s yelling at her or being violent towards her, as long as it’s directed at her. You can see it in her face after she’s hit, how she swallows down her anger/hurt and instead chooses to soothe him, because it’s what she was taught to do. Do whatever it takes to get what you want, right?

And, worse, it works. He melts right into her, lets her calm him down, and the tension in the air is... gross. If you look at the other girls, you can see just how messed up this all feels to them too. They look scared, even, like they are watching a train wreck they can’t stop.

And because it worked, because he only shows her kindness after being violent with her, the idea that she has to let people hurt her in order to feel wanted is reinforced. This can be seen later in her relationship with Natalie, how she lets the girl tear into her over and over and over only to brush it off like nothing happened. Because she believes Natalie needs her more than Misty needs to feel accepted. Same with Ben, Misty truly thinks he deserves her kindness/patience more than she deserves his.

#I really hate this man so much lmao #I hope this makes sense I wrote it high and sleepy #misty quigley #coach ben #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #sa mention

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evanpeterswifeyyy · 5 months ago

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Already seeing rumors of people speculating that Natalie is abusing Evan by picking apart the footage of him in Paris because he has “a bruise under his eye”, they sat apart and he just “looks sad”.

None of this is clear proof anything is happening and they were literally holding hands and smiling like 99% of the time, and the only time he wasn’t was when he was literally just standing, walking or sitting AKA RESTING.

I’m not denying the possibility that there could be abuse, but that is a BOLD and SERIOUS claim and you don’t say that willy-nilly. There is a million individual explanations for why he has a bruise, why he looks tired, why they sat apart that are FAR from abuse.

Just because Evan has been abused in the past and you’re petty and jealous of Natalie doesn’t make it ok to pick apart their relationship and claim that she’s an abuser. Some of you need to step back and realize your biases when saying thay.

PLEASE STOP YALL ARE DRIVING ME INSANE SO IMAGINE HOW HE FEELS

Ik everyone’s tired of talking abt this, but the more I see it the more I’m gonna speak up and keep calling everyone out for this BS because it has to stop. I get this comes with him being a celebrity, but there is no excuse for this behavior. He deserves better and I believe (hope) we all know that and would want that for him. Which INCLUDES SUPPORTING HIM AND WHOEVER HE DATES UNTIL OTHERWISE NECESSARY.

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youcouldmakealife · 8 months ago

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SOTM: Lourdes Family, David; family traditons

For the prompt: Jake's sisters slowly warming up to David

The problem with Nat and David, Allie decides early on, is that they’re too alike. Not in most ways, really — she doesn’t think they’d agree on much when it comes to their taste in media, or hobbies, or any of that, and she’s sure they’d both be surprised if she said they were similar at all.

But Allie knows Nat better than she knows herself, probably, and she’s made an attempt at getting to know David, because she knows how important it is to Jake, and some of the things that make Natalie Nat to her seem to be pretty similar to the things that make David David.

They’re both quiet, but it’s not shyness with either of them, though it can seem like it unless you know them. As often as not, Nat’s quiet because silently dismantling whatever’s being said in her head, about to spring it on whatever poor unsuspecting person just claimed they ‘could care less’ or called a pterodactyl a dinosaur or something that matters to nobody but Nat.

Though mostly she doesn’t actually say it to them — unless they’re family, she corrects Allie all the time, and poor Jakey doesn’t stand a chance — she’s saying it as an aside to Allie, or recalling it later ,‘my co-worker thought Babylon was a mythological place, and when I said 'oh yeah, like Bethlehem?' he said 'yeah, exactly!'’ or ‘If I hear someone use literally when they mean figuratively one more time, Allie, I swear I'm going to snap’.

She’s quiet, and sometimes she seems checked out, but she’s always paying attention to what everyone else is saying. Allie’s learned it’s the same with David — she’ll mention something and then nine months later David will have gotten her a Christmas present based on her offhand comment. Or he’ll ask if she wants the same drink as last time, last time being like, six months ago. Allie doesn’t know if he’s got that kind of memory for everybody, or if it’s just because she’s Jake’s sister, and he’s still trying to impress all of them, but, well — consider her impressed, she guesses.

But also, she’s pretty sure he’s also picking up on the mistakes everybody else makes, except instead of ‘Allie, let me tell you the misspelled bumper sticker I saw today’, she isn’t hearing shit from him. She doesn’t think Jake is either, at least if the people making mistakes are them. And they probably are. Allie has no illusions that she makes no mistakes: if she did, Nat would have beaten that belief out of her by now.

“He thinks he’s better than us,” Nat complained once, and Allie pressed her lips together very tightly, and she didn’t say a thing, and frankly, she thinks she deserves a medal for that.

As similar as David can be to Nat, he’s absolutely nothing like Jake. If Allie was asked to list their similarities, it’d be like — ‘very athletic white dudes around the same age’, and then a bunch of hockey specific things. Beyond that, she’s got nothing. It isn’t just their personalities — they have completely different taste in everything. Different priorities, outside of similar career ones. Some overlapping friends, but Allie just attributes that to Jake being able to make friends with a table leg if he wants to. They could not be less alike.

Allie’s never been a big believer in the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing, but honestly, maybe she should be: mom and dad are a pretty good example of it, and Jake and David seem to bring out the best in each other.

It took Allie a little while to come to terms with them getting back together, but she can’t deny that Jake seems to grow when he’s around David. Maturity wise, but he also just seems to stand up straighter, like just being around David makes him more alert, or aware, or maybe even self-confident, though that’s never been something he's lacked.

It probably isn’t just David he’s like that with — Allie hasn’t seen him around the Panthers too much, but he is the captain, after all — but either way, it’s a nice thing to see Jake grown up.

He’s still the baby to her, will probably always be the baby to her — anyone she put in pigtails and pulled around in a little red wagon while telling everyone to look at her pretty little dolly is going to be a baby to her forever, let’s face it — but for all that he’s been taller than her since he was twelve, he felt like a kid to her the whole way to the show, and for awhile after. He doesn’t feel like a kid anymore. Baby, sure, he's always going to be that, but not a kid.

If anything, David feels more like one. Not that he’s childish, or immature, or whatever, because Allie suspects he wasn’t even childish when he was an actual child. Maybe more someone suddenly immersed in a foreign culture — he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to do, what the hell is up with the wishbone thing.

She’s seen Jake explain things to him, the traditions she thought everyone did, and the traditions that are very Lourdes specific, the way mom gives extra mashed potatoes if you're a suck up, and how if people don’t take turns opening presents it turns into a free-for-all, and how nobody actually eats the cranberry sauce.

When Jake isn’t there to do it — rare, but the dude does need bathroom breaks — Allie figures it’s no skin off her nose to do it instead, and she even overhears Nat doing it once, though she might have just been venting about someone saying dumb shit again. She does love to do that.

The important thing is that he keeps showing up, even though he’s uncomfortable every single time — though maybe Allie’s imagining it, but she thinks he’s reached the ‘almost comfortable’ stage this Christmas, like, maybe feeling a little awkward, but no more than anyone else would, spending Christmas with his boyfriend’s family. Maybe more than someone typically would if they’ve been doing it every year, but Allie knows they can be a lot, that most people have trouble keeping up with the rapid back and forth — even Jake gets left behind sometimes, then pouty when they start tease him about it.

David was a wide-eyed spectator, the first few times he saw that. Jake told Allie later that he didn’t hear the fondness in it, just the mockery, got defensive on Jake’s behalf. Allie doesn’t know how he’s survived locker rooms for so long — their love language is basically just mockery and punching each other in sensitive places, at least judging by Jake and his teammates back in the day. Probably now too. She’s met Cody Gallagher, unfortunately.

He takes it better now though, even joined in yesterday when everyone was shit-talking Jake’s recent stab at growing facial hair, while Jake tried and failed to defend himself through giggles. On the one hand, Allie’s just glad it isn’t a mustache, but on the other hand, maybe he’d do a better job with that. This morning, Jake comes down to breakfast clean-shaven. Allie isn’t delusional: he didn’t shave it because his sisters gave him shit. That was all David.

“High five,” Allie says when David joins them downstairs, and she’s half expecting a quizzical look, maybe even the ‘what the hell are the Lourdes talking about now’ one that surfaces sometimes, but instead she gets a tiny smile and a high five.

“I’m sitting right here, guys,” Jake says, but once again, he’s laughing.

#fic snippet #SOTM #david chapman #jake lourdes #allie lourdes #nat lourdes

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miraculouscriticismshub · 1 year ago

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Why Gabriel doesn’t deserve a redemption - the Hypocrisy of the Writers - Miraculous Season 5 Finale spoilers Ahead.

If you have seen the finale then you already know what happens to Gabriel . He dies but gets remembered as a hero and his reputation was unscratched. The writers have the audacity to say a teenage girl will never become a better person because her actions are unforgivable but they go ahead and redeem Gabriel Agreste - a literal terrorist and abuser - who has done a lot worse. This post will explain why Gabriel doesn’t deserve a redemption arc and how his character feels ruined.

Part 1 - Gabriels crimes and why the writers think they are justifiable. Triggers of Child abuse and terrorism

This man has committed atrocious crimes of which the most obvious was child abuse. Mainly towards Adrien. The writers think due to Gabe losing his wife - it is justified why he neglects Adrien - it is a sign of grief. That he spends every day terrorizing Paris because he wants Emelie back to complete Adrien's family. They say he does all he does because he cares about his son. While this was the case during seasons 1-4 , his character changes in season 5. He no longer does it for Emily and Adrien but for power. He abuses Adrien even more this season by trapping him in a room and separating him from Marinette.

However his Character is ruined in the season 5 finale. He wishes Emily and Natalie to live and pleads with Marinette to make sure Adrien remembers him as a good father. That's not her burden to carry or her responsibility . Gabriel had the audacity to ask the girl he traumatised to keep every crime he has committed a secret from his own son ! Despite everything Gabriel has done to Marinette - she finds out he was Hawkmoth - she still forgives him and helps build a statue of Gabe in his honor. The writers think Gabriel deserves redemption because he did show remorse for what he did to Adrien and cried when he watched Emilie's tapes. But Adrien wasn’t his only victim and child abuse wasn’t his only crime. Gabriel never showed remorse for what he put Marinette through (he knows she's a ladybug .) He never apologized for separating her from Adrien or for the trauma he inflicted on her as Ladybug. Even when Ladybug gave her a chance , he blew it by paralyzing her.

He is also an international terrorist who primarily targets children. He threatened to kill Alya’s family and murdered many Parisians in Strike Back but still gets remembered as a hero. Even in the final fight , he says he doesn’t care about the innocent victims he hurted. He never felt bad about what he did. It gives kids a bad message. While I think Gabe dying in Emily's place isn’t a bad idea , the fact that Gabriel gets away with his crimes and is celebrated as a savior is disgusting. At the very least , he shouldn’t be presented as a good man and should be remembered as the villain and a terrorist. It’s a slap in the face for all his victims. The fact that all of Gabriel's other crimes are forgiven just because he felt remorse for one is sickening.

Especially in Season 5 , where the writer makes Gabe to be sympathetic by having his relationship with Emelie mirrors Adrienette’s relationship because he and Marinette both came from humble backgrounds. That's why the writers think Gabe is redeemable , because he and Marinette are similar and both care for Adrien. The fact he basically got what he wanted and is being remembered as a savior is so unfair to Marinette and Adrien. Sure he died , but Emelie came back or he reunited with her (depending if you think it was Amelie or Emelie). Therefore , Gabe doesn’t deserve redemption because he never proved himself or felt remorse for most of his crimes. He manipulated Marinette till the very end into thinking he was a good person when in reality , he doesn't care about anyone except for himself , Adrien , Natalie and Emelie.

Part 2 - Obvious hypocrisy

It is no secret that Thomas dislikes Chloe. However in Season 5 he has taken his hate for her way too far that he sacrificed good writing to bash her character and hurt her fans. He repeatedly says on his twitter Chloe will never become a better person because she is a bully and has done too many unforgivable acts. Surprisingly , in season 5 episode 26 , they go ahead and redeem Gabriel - a terrorist , child abuser , groomer and manipulator - who has arguably done so much worse. I don’t mind if the writers don’t give Chloe a redemption arc , not all characters need a redemption but it feels hypocritical saying a teenage bully is irredeemable but an adult terrorist is sympathetic. Especially of how rushed and badly written Gabriel's redemption arc is.

So when Chloe does something evil , the writers say she in irredeemable and deserves every bit of Karma but when Gabriel does something worse , the writers justify what he has done because of his sympathetic motive and give him a redemption story. This disgusts me because it is shown time and time again that Gabriel likes to use Chloe in his heinous plans. Three episodes ago Gabriel was manipulating and grooming Chloe into joining his side. Gabriel is partly to blame for Chloe's worst crimes , he enabled her and put the ideas in her head. But the writers act like Chloe is more in the wrong than Gabriel when he is clearly more guilty than she is !! They act like it is OK for Gabriel to manipulate and akumatize Chloe because it's for the sake of getting his wife back. Chloe is not a good person , but it is unfair how she is the only character to face consequences when Characters worse than her are getting rewarded and receive happy endings !! Chloe is disowned by her father and sent to live with her abuser while Gabriel reunites with Emelie (depending on which sister you think it was at the pool party) and is celebrated as a saviour. Gabriel being more moral in the eyes of the writers than a misguided teenager - who also is one of his main victims - is sickening. Therefore Gabriel redemption isn’t deserved because it shows the double standards the writers have for Chloe.

To conclude - Gabriel's character in the Season 5 finale is basically ruined. Gabriel receiving a redemption is an example of bad writing and feels rushed. He only felt remorse for what he did to Adrien but never felt bad for terrorizing Paris or using Chloe. He never apologized to Marinette for separating her from Adrien or for other crimes he did. His redemption feels Hypocritical compared to the character of Chloe - who was one of Gabriel's main targets. Hopefully in season 6 , Adrien finds out about what happened and Paris receives the justice they deserve. However if you like what they did with his character , that is perfectly fine . I’m not saying you are not allowed to dislike Gabriel. This is just my opinion . Feel free to disagree :) . Please stay respectful.

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seokjins-luigi · 2 years ago

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i hate everything about you | pt. 2 | pjm

・pairing: ex!jimin x ex!f!reader

・genre: exes to ? | angst | smut

18+

・word count: 4.2k

・summary: accidentally, you bump into your ex who, mind you, previously cheated on you. so you're 99% sure the only feeling you have left for him is sheer hate. but the 1% leaves you questioning.

・banner: by the amazing @/kookdiaries

・A/N: i'm very sorry for making you wait for so long ): but finally, here's part 2 of this story. i wanna thank everyone for the amazing feedback 💜

again: here's a playlist for y'all to play as you read it, if you want to hehe

as always, thank you to my soulmate @primadonnasdream for helping me build my stories. hope you guys enjoy the reading :))

if you wanna be added to any of my taglists, just leave a comment here. feedback is always appreciated, sweeties 💜

・permanent taglist: @goldenhoney-cas @yuugehn

・taglist:@imluckybitches @bbtsficrecs @minijagiya @jackinthethroat @arckyive @chimchimmarie @bex-92br @rkvi @hoseok666 @joonsytip @callmejimmeo @koreanaestheticc @tea4sykes @pamzn @nikkiordonez12 @withluvjm @natalie-rdr @south09 @hannahdanyelle @vonvi-blog @leticiaesteveslp @sheylamc @kooklovee

You like to think of yourself as a not complicated type of person. Most of the time, you’re logic-oriented, try not jumping into conclusions and, above all else, you don’t waste your precious time obsessing over things that are outside of your control.

This has been working for your chill personality for your entire life just fine, but when it comes to Park Jimin, none of it applies to you.

Today, you wake up feeling extremely tired after the awful night of sleep you obviously had. Unfortunately, you couldn’t think about anything else other than fucking Park Jimin. The things he had said kept replaying in your mind in a never ending loop. Totally obsessing over it and this is so unlike you, it hurts.

You watched the dark shades of the night turn into the golden shades of the morning through the thin curtains of your bedroom window. What did he mean when he asked you if you still had no idea? Was he trying to manipulate you or was there something you really didn’t know about the situation?

As much as you keep trying to convince yourself that you don’t want to dig into it, you know that you very much want to dig into it. You nor only just want, you need to. If anything, it’ll give you closure. Although it sounds bizarre and you honestly didn’t have the faintest idea of what this could be about, it really felt like some part of Jimin was being honest.

“I wanna tell you everything”, he actually said that. Maybe there is something to be told. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking, maybe you are only falling under his spell all over again. But the fact that you were the one who did not let him speak last night is eating you alive, now you’re anxious and nervous and it’s all your own fault.

You were just sure things could not go on like this, because it was starting to affect your work. You kept losing focus on your meetings with clients, forgetting about important tasks or overlooking details that should not be overlooked. This is where you draw the line. You can’t allow Jimin’s influence in your life to go this far. One time was enough, you can’t allow him to mess with your head again.

After pondering about it for hours, you decide to go looking for him. You know the only way out of this spiraling mode you’re in right now is to have an honest and thorough conversation with Jimin, because you deserve to know the truth.

When you arrive at the bar, the place Jungkook took you last night, you see Jimin’s car parked nearby. It was almost exactly six o’clock and you’re sure he had arrived at work already, he’s always been a responsible guy. Luckily, as if destiny was giving you a hand, not even a minute later you see the glass door of the bar being opened and a second later Jimin passes through.

You see your ex heading towards his car, he doesn’t seem to have seen you across the street. You hesitate for a second, but you force yourself to go to him.

Each step you take in his direction makes you want to just run away as fast as you can, almost as if you can’t take the anticipation. You need this. You need closure. You can do this, Y/n.

As you got near, you saw him looking for something in the glove compartment, still unaware of your presence. You take a deep breath and call his name.

“Jimin?” You’re surprised with how confident you sounded.

He snapped his head in your direction, confusion stamped all over his face.

“Y/n?” He furrowed his eyebrows, turning to you as he spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” You looked him in the eyes and he returned the deepness of your own. “Please?”

“Y/n, about last night… I’m really sorry. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have gone there and bothered you with my shit”.

“I can forgive you for last night if you tell me the whole story”, he looked down to his feet before you could finish the sentence, breaking eye contact with you. “Jimin-ssi, I deserve to know”.

He turns his back, delicately closing the door of his car. He, then, turns back to you, finally looking into your eyes once again, the surprise from his eyes is gone and you’re not sure of what you see there.

“All I can say is I’m sorry for last night, but”, he leans and rests his body against his car, displaying an annoyingly nonchalant expression on his fucking face as he shrugs. “There’s nothing to tell”.

At this moment you remember why you hate his ass. It’s ridiculous how he can look you straight in the eyes and lie to you after the scene he pulled hours ago in your house.

You take a deep, frustrated breath.

“Fucking bullshit! Thanks for reminding me how much of an asshole you are, Jimin. I almost forgot”, you smile dryly. “I hope next time you drink, you don't show up at my doorstep whining again, ok? Next time I’ll call the fucking police”.

With a smirk, he declares. “There'll be no next time, Y/n. Rest assured”.

“Well, praise the lord, huh?” You reply in a sharp tone, not allowing him to say his piece. “I regret every single tear I’ve wasted on you. You… You were the worst mistake I’ve ever made”.

He glares at you with contempt plastered all over his face, his plump lips tightened as his brows rose. You wish punching people in the face didn’t cause as much trouble as it does, because you can swear to all gods that have ever existed that the only thing you want at this moment is to punch this expression off his face.

“Say that again”, he challenges you, brows still in the same position as before, with a darker shade of brown on his eyes.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re not deaf”, now you’re the one who answers challengingly, raising your own brows as you try to speak calmly. “Next time we bump into each other, do me the favor of pretending you don’t know me”.

You turn your back to him and march back to your own car, hating yourself for dragging your ass all the way to this fucking bar again, only to have him mock you. You rush back into your car, knowing fully well that there’s a big chance that Jimin’s still observing you, so you can’t allow yourself to cry. You were not even sad, you’re genuinely pissed, but unfortunately you’re an angry crier.

You could run over him if it wasn’t a crime. As you are about to connect the keys to the ignition, you hear a soft knock on your window and you just know it’s him. Rolling your eyes, you turn your head in Jimin’s direction and he gestures, asking you to roll your window down.

You do as he says and hiss impatiently. “What?”

“One last fuck and we’ll forget about each other”, he licks his lips in an obvious attempt to make you feel something.

Unfortunately, you do. But fortunately, you’re pretty good at hiding your emotions when you really want to. So you just throw your head back and let out a very ironic laughter.

“What’s so funny, Y/n?” He asks you, with a piercing look in his dark eyes, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“I just told you you were the worst mistake I’ve made, man…” You let out another laugh, less energetically. “Are you into degradation now? I’m not really into that kind of kink, sorry”.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You fucking love angry sex”, he declared in a lower tone, with a raspy voice that he knows makes you feel things.

He has a point, you do love angry sex. As you keep silent, Jimin continues.

“Let me take you to my place, it’s just around the corner…” his eyes focus on your lips as he speaks. “Let me fuck you, until you forget why you’re mad at me. You know how good I am… Just this one last time, then you can go back to pretending I don’t exist”.

You do know how good he is. You hate to admit, even if it’s just to yourself, but he’s more than good. Your sex life with Jimin has always been great, actually, that’s why you got even more hurt when he cheated. You used to think you were enough for him, that you satisfied him as much as he did to you. Apparently not. And that broke your confidence and self esteem in a way that you’re still trying to recover.

You’re pissed at him, but you can’t deny that you’re still insanely attracted to this motherfucker, regardless of your history. Your mind desperately says no, but your but urges you to say yes.

“Why would I say yes to this ridiculous proposition?” You scoff, trying to mask the fact that this is you already starting to give in.

“Simply because you know you want me to fuck you”, he declares with a knowing smirk.

The way he’s looking at you right now is definitely not helping you to stay focused on maintaining your sense of dignity. His plump lips slightly parted, forming a deliciously attractive dirty grin, his eyes intensely glued onto your own lips as he waits for your answer. You can’t deny how magnetic he feels.

He leans further in your direction, cupping your face with one of his hands, running his thumb over your mouth. You are simply unable to stop yourself from delicately parting your lips, taking his thumb between them and sucking it softly. He lets out a heavy breath, locking his dark eyes with you as your skilled tongue runs along his finger.

“Let’s go, babe”, he almost begged this time.

He didn’t have to ask you again, unfortunately. He opened your car door and next thing you knew, he was dragging you up the stairs of his building until you saw yourself inside his small apartment.

As soon as you were inside, he pushed you against the front door and started kissing you hungrily. Just like the last kiss inside your place last night, it feels like Jimin is hungry for you, it feels like he can devour you right then and there. His tongue tastes yours with desperation, making it difficult for you to breathe. One of his hands lands beside your head, on the door, and the other travels up your body, from your waist to your boobs.

The kiss is messy and intense, not only for him, but for you too, your mind can’t seem to focus on anything other than Jimin. It feels like time and space aren’t real when you’re with him, just like it was then.

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, you tug it in order to get rid of it as quickly as possible, getting rid of yours in the middle of the way too.

“You missed this, didn't you?” Jimin places your hand on his abs as he whispers with a cocky grin.

“I think you missed these much more”, you reply with the same amount of cockyness as him, guiding his hands to your boobs.

“Oh, I fucking did”, he whispers again, mouth already glued to your neck as he kneads your breasts.

In the back of your mind, a little annoying voice tries to warn you, saying you will regret this later. But, honestly, who gives a fuck? Life’s hard enough for you to worry about future regrets. You’ll hate yourself for fucking Jimin when the times comes, right now, all you want to focus is on his devious tongue and the crazily good patterns it’s drawing all over your neck. You’re so lost into Jimin’s magic that you don’t even realize you let a moan escape your lips driving your ex even more mad.

His mouth is back on yours and he pushes you towards the couch sitting in the corner of his small living room, throwing you carelessly against it. His tongue is already pushing his way between your lips, you close your eyes, focusing only on the intensity of Jimin’s kiss. It feels like you’re back to the beginning of everything, this kiss feels like what it felt like kissing Jimin for the first time. The passion is still there and you will deal with it later.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” He asks you, pulling the strap of your bra down, almost not waiting for your nod of approval.

You both sloppily get rid of the rest of your clothes, tossing them carelessly on the floor of your ex’s living room. Next thing you knew, he had two fingers in you and your nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked your nipples in a passion that had you gasping and his fingers were bent inside your thoroughly wet pussy. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his fingers and his mouth, he knows exactly how you like it and that’s why it feels so good. Being with someone who knows you and what you like is so much better than spending the night in a stranger's bed like in the countless one-night stands you’ve had the past few months.

“You’re so fucking wet right now, babe… It’s ridiculous how much you want me to fuck you, huh?” He teases you, lips brushing lightly against your already sensitive nipple as he speaks.

You let out a loud moan this time, staring back at his intense black eyes, and nod.

“I do, Ji”, in a distressed attempt for grounding, you scratch his back with your nails, not minding if it’ll leave him marked or not. He gasps and you continue.

“Please, just fuck me, Ji-”.

“Of course, babe, anything you ask”, he cuts you mid sentence.

He pulled his fingers out of you and, before you could whine about it, he shut you up with another messy kiss, but also full of desire. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted both your bodies up, switching places with you on the couch. He positioned himself between your legs, making the tip of his cock touch your wet and throbbing folds.

“Rid me, Y/n”, he asks you, half tenderly, half assertive. “Show me how much you miss me”.

You felt something inside you shake. This is so fucking wrong.

But without thinking too much about it, you let your weight down on his cock, feeling the delicious stretch all at once. Both of your breaths falter, basking in the divine sensation of him being inside you.

Your hips started moving on their own, as the pleasure started to consume your mind completely. You had your eyes on Jimin’s beautiful face, now fully taken over by lust, darkening his features in an irresistible way. His plump lips parted and he moaned, making you forget completely about everything else around you.

Your movements were starting to become desperate, feeling the way his cock fills you up completely, as he tries to pick up your speed with his own skillful hips. Both of you were loudly showing how good you can give it to each other.

His hand travels up your body, as he lifts his upper body to reach the back of your neck. He sticks his tongue out and licks the side of your neck, the warm and moist sensation makes you close your eyes instantly.

“If you don’t take it slow, I won’t last much longer, babe…” He whispers, as he grasps your hair tightly. “Can I take over now?”

You hum. You love being in control, but you love it even more when Jimin is in control. He instantly switches positions with you, thrusting hard the moment your back touches the couch, in a slower, but deeper pace compared to how you were riding his cock just now.

The intensity of his thrusts have you clenching around his cock. Shaky breaths leave both of your lips, both of you too focused on the ecstatic feeling of being together. The sounds of your wet pussy being snapped against his cock, his balls slapping against your naked ass mixed with your moans and pants.

“I could…” He thrusts you one more time, deeper than before. “Fuck this pussy forever”.

You feel your walls clenching tighter around his cock, not missing a single inch of his length being pushed inside of you.

“Look how… how good you take it, babe”, he groans in your ear with his cock buried deep inside of you.

You feel his cock twitch and another moan escapes his parted lips. You’re both almost out of breath. You know he won’t last much longer now if he continues to hammer you in this intensity. Your body tingles with pleasure with every single thrust of his hips.

At this point, you’re just a moany mess. Your heart is racing and in every pump you can feel the adrenaline flowing through your veins. Jimin’s thrusts start to become desperate and out of pace, while you can feel the burning sensation building in your lower stomach.

One of your hands travels to your clit, your head snaps back when your fingers finally touch your throbbing sex, feeling the divine sensation spreading throughout your body. Jimin replaces your fingers with his own, with a cocky grin hanging on his swollen lips.

“Fucking slut, look at you…” Moving his fingers in circular patterns as he pants and thrusts and gazes at you with his dark, lusty eyes. “You still like it messy, huh?”

“Ye-”.

Before you could finish, the electric sensation takes over your whole body and all you can focus on is the pleasure taking over you. You whimper as the orgasm spreads through your veins, screaming Jimin’s name. Clenching even harder around his dick as your pussy spilt out your juices all over his twitching cock.

He bites your shoulder and you feel like he’s on the brim of cuming too.

“Ji, I- I want you to fill me up”, you whispered in between your pants. “I want it all”.

“Y-Yeah?” You know he’s struggling to hold back by the sound of his shaky, low pitched voice. “Are you gonna take all of it like the good girl that you are, babe?”

You want him so bad. You want to feel everything you missed out on in the last months away from him.

“I will, Ji, please”, you looked at him, eyes pleading as you gave yourself completely to him. Once again.

He thrusted deep inside of your pussy one last time, allowing his orgasm to take over him and cuming deep inside of you, painting your clenching walls white. Both of you are too out of breath to move, so you just take your time breathing and trying to recompose yourselves before Jimin pulls out of you. Sweat covering both of your naked bodies on a weekday afternoon.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tiredness and soreness, but also the delightfulness and the lingering sensation of pleasure. This motherfucker was right, what you two have is not easy to find. This chemistry.

You open your eyes when you feel Jimin’s body weight being lifted up from yours. You take your time looking at him and he is still just as beautiful as you remember. Not just hot, that’s obvious. But he’s also beautiful like very few men in the world are.

He sees you’re staring and smiles cockily.

“Too handsome, huh?”

“Unfortunately, I have to agree”, you roll your eyes, almost playfully.

He laughs softly and throws himself on you again, laying his head between your breasts and hugging you. It’s ridiculous to admit, but it just feels right.

Both of you remain silent. The only thing that can be heard are both of you trying to catch your breaths, but you don’t even pay attention to that. You’re nervous. There are so many questions you wanna ask and even though this feels right at this moment, this man made you suffer like hell not so long ago.

“Ugh, I don’t wanna get up”, he declares in a lazy voice, his face still between your breasts. “You almost make me want to miss work”.

You sigh. This is too much, too domestic, too nostalgic, but you want to be right here, exactly like you are, in his arms. All the things he said to you yesterday flash through your mind. How he said he missed you, how he begged for you two to talk and you refused to listen. You were hurting so much you couldn’t see through the pain and resentment.

“I’ve missed this”, you finally confess in a whisper.

But you’re sure he could hear you, because his arms closed even tighter around you.

“Me too, babe”, he murmurs the answer.

Your hand travels up to his silky hair, running your hands through his locks. You’re not sure how long you just stay together like that, enjoying each other’s existence silently, but you finally break the silence.

“We still have a lot to talk about, don't we?”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Do we?”

“You think we don’t?” The protesting tone was clear as you voiced the question, specially because you didn't find anything genuine in his eyes when he asked you that question.

“We don’t”, he averts his gaze, laying his head almost between the crook of your neck and your shoulder.

“Jimin, look at me…” You try to sound as firm as possible, but it sounds more like a plea than a command.

“Baby… Just- Let’s not do this”, he whispers. “I can’t”.

You lift your body with your elbows so you could look at him, making him untie his arms around you and sit as well.

“What do you mean, Jimin-ssi?” You try again, speaking slowly so your nerves don't get the best of you.

You don’t want to believe that this is true. He can’t treat you like you’re some random booty call.

“Hey!” He tries giving you an obviously empty smile. “What happened to Ji? I prefer when you call me Ji”.

Also sitting up, bending your legs in order not to touch his anymore. The way he’s speaking to you right now, the way he’s looking at you with empty eyes and an empty smile. You know where this is going and you feel sick to your stomach with the idea that you allowed Jimin to get in your head again and, once more, you end up hurt.

“And I prefer when you tell me the truth!” You raise your voice now, trying to find on his face any signs that you might be wrong.

“I thought I had made myself clear when I said I have nothing to tell you”, he states firmly, averting his gaze from yours. “I have already asked you to forget about this”.

You feel a huge lump in your throat, trying your best not to allow the tears to form in the corner of your eyes. You are not crying in front of Park Jimin ever again. You refuse. Even though it hurts just like it hurted before, you’ll save your tears for another time.

“Really? After fucking me, you’re just gonna ask me to get the fuck out of your life like nothing happened?”

You watch his face contort, like he was profoundly thinking about what to say next. You suddenly see his expression change and you know this is his sassy snarky side taking over, nothing serious comes out of him when his eyes reflect his darker side like that.

“I was horny, you were horny. I thought it was clear it wasn’t a bargain”, he still doesn’t look at you while he speaks. “It was just sex”.

And he shrugs. It’s clear to you that this shit’s been a fucking joke to him. A sick fucking joke you never expected him to be capable of. This is not the Jimin you spent years with, the one you loved, the one you wanted to get married to at some point in the past.

His words cut through you. Just sex.

You hate everything about this Jimin.

“Of course it was just about sex… I’m sorry if I misunderstood the situation, Jimin. ” You push his legs aggressively so you can get out of the couch. “Excuse me, I wanna leave”.

You start collecting your underwear and clothes from the floor of his stupid house, trying your best to block the tears away. You dress yourself hastily, while Jimin watches you in silence. You head for the door, but he holds your arm lightly, trying to stop you.

“Hey, Y/n… Don’t be like that, I’ll feel guilty”, he pleads softly again.

“Get your hands off of me”, you groan between your teeth without turning to face him. “Also, fuck off”.

He lets go of your arm and you leave his apartment as soon as you can, slamming the door behind you. You rush back to your car and drive away as fast as you can, only allowing yourself to cry your anger and pain out when you’re tucked in bed later that day.

#jimin angst #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #jimin series #jimin smut #jimin au #exes to lovers #bts fanfiction #bts series #bts fic #bts fanfic #i hate everything about you #bts smut #bts x reader

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soulc-hilde · 5 months ago

Text

The Bear

If there’s anything more frustrating is doing a series for a show that has writers who don’t properly go about their job. For example, for my series Bear in the Wild which is based on and follows The Bear tv show, Storer and whoever else is co-writing the show - probably - don’t know how they want to go about the show or what to do.

Cause what I remember reading, is that the show wasn’t even supposed to go on for this long which is a congratulations well deserved. However, I don’t think Storer was ideally prepared to take the show higher. Hear me out…

The viewers are split between those who want Carmen to find the light within his life and heal, those who wish to see him be in a relationship with Sydney, and some who may want him with Claire or any BETTER character that can be added in.

From my perspective, I can see how Sydney and Carmen can be a couple. For those who are too hooked onto the fact that they work together - Carmen’s ENTIRE family is heavily involved with the restaurant since he was a kid. That separation is non-existent.

However, the point of this post isn’t about ships. It’s about the writing and the caring of the show. The first two seasons were killer, amazing. The pacing was perfect, the plot of each season was explored within their episodes consistently, and there’s obvious chemistry between Sydney and Carmen.

Romantic or Platonic, who gives a fuck. It's there, that's material that they can work on.

Season 3 fails because it’s inconsistent, it removes our deuteragonist Sydney and replaces her with tertiary characters like the Faks. THE FAKS??

If this season’s theme, its plot, was to dive into each character’s background and how they’re tied within one another, GO FOR IT. Even better, do that but stick to your focal cast which consists of Carmen, Sydney, Richie, Natalie, Tina, Marcus, Ebra, and… maybe the Faks.

Tell us about our seven fishes, how’d they come across Michael? What was his role in their life, outside of being the boss? It’s The Beef/The Bear. Everybody is family. Tell us how The Beef became a home. Talk to us about Sydney’s family, hell Marcus’ mother died at the end of Season 2… let’s dive into that.

Instead, I’m staring at John Cena as a Fak and I’m learning about Thing 1 and Thing 2? I’m receiving vague hints that Claire’s best friend can’t read red flags to save her fucking life and got associated with a Fak? Why would anyone to do that to themselves?

How does this contribute to The Bear? Or to the Season in general?

Claire is the type of girl in reality where you have to tell them to shut the fuck up or else you’ll punch the shit out of them. She pushes and she pushes until you give her the answer she wants.

In the eyes of a WOC, she acts like a typical white woman that was never told no because she was too pretty or talked so soft when in reality, she looked like everyone else and talks as if she’s being stalked and needs saved. Claire ain’t no different than any other plain jane.

So, what makes her so special in Storer’s eyes that she gets to be Carmen’s love interest?

Can’t say that it’s the nostalgia that holds them together cause I’m pretty sure that while they were both acquainted, she wasn’t an actual friend of Carmen’s. She was the out of reach girl who he had a crush on and knew of. Instead of initiating that bond during those times, she initiates it through his family.

Specifically, Michael, Richie, The Faks, and Donna.

Instead of understanding that the fake number meant he didn’t want to talk to her, she goes through Fak and proceeds to keep calling him. He doesn’t owe her shit, not even the toilet paper he used to wipe his ass and yet, we’re watching this grown ass woman hunt this man down when he didn’t want to talk.

If this was the other way around, it would immediately be an example of harassment against women. But Claire? Oh no, this is apparently supposed to be her fighting for her chance at love or getting close to his heart.

Girl, you're a damn pest. Get sprayed.

And let's not even get into one of the promotion interviews. Why is the cast split by the comedic reliefs, the siblings, and the Blacks?? Um... Tell us how you really feel, say that shit with your chest whoever set that up.

Storer was not prepared to create another season and that happens to all shows. I mean, how many shows you've start strong but then there was either a change on staff or it received crazy hype and decided to add seasons to follow the momentum but things went to shit?

There's ways to recover from that. However, here's where Storer really fucked up.

In recent years, the generation of BIPOC have been wishing to see themselves as characters who do the things that the most overhyped white character does.

Cook? Farm? Paint? Rich? Anxious? Depressed? Happy family?

After so many years of "progression" within the industry, we receive these characters that are supposedly in these non-stereotypical roles and won't be used for the plot (especially if they're a woman of color) but then when the final product is out...

Where was that regular-degular character you had?

And thankfully, there's some shows who have been successful with giving us that representation. And it's not about us wanting white directors and writers to tell our story as people. Y'all already had that control and look where we're at now.

We want y'all to get your head out of your asses and realize that there's more to the world than Ashley with the blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes.

In The Bear, we get that with Sydney, Ebra, Tina, and Marcus. Now, with Sydney, as I said, she's the deuteragonist. Both her and Richie. Where the fuck was she this season? Why is her role being pushed to the back and the likes of the Faks and the Pest being pushed to the front?

They're for damn sure not on the promotional posters. Especially, Claire. They're not one of the main characters. If anything, they're foil characters and/or tertiary characters.

They are either to help further the plot to reach our ending destination, especially if they surround the main character(s), or add little substance here and there before disappearing.

Storer fucked up. He knew what type of audience he had, he saw the reception that both Sydney and Carmen (Ayo and Jeremy) received for their roles and yet when it came to this season, he played in their faces and with their time. And that's fucked up.

#carmen berzatto #Jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri #Sydney adamu #ebon moss bachrach #richie jerimovich #The Bear #christopher storer #Carmen berzatto fanfic #soulc.hilde thoughts

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randomperson99sworld · 2 months ago

Text

Hope

~ Chapter 5 ~

Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester save a young woman —Natalie Johnson, from a coven of witches who are after her deceased grandmothers spell book. At first Dean doesn’t trust her, will he ever? Natalie is just simply a woman who gets roped up in the supernatural world from a mistake her grandmother made.

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warning: Age gap, slow burn, smut (not until the later chapters), language, gore.

Word Count: 2,737

A/N: Please feel free to leave comments! I love reading them. This is my last chapter for the night. I’ve worked all day on these lol

A Few Days Later:

Things had mostly gone back to normal between Dean and Natalie, or at least as normal as things got in the bunker. Dean was still gruff with her, his words often clipped and his tone carrying that familiar edge of impatience, but there was something different now—something softer beneath the surface. Maybe he'd been too hard on her. Hell, he knew he had. He couldn't help it. It was how he was wired—tough, gruff, always on guard.

He'd been the same way with Jack. The kid had never deserved the kind of crap Dean had thrown at him, and Dean knew that now. But it was his defense mechanism, the walls he put up to protect himself from losing more people. Still, after that blow-up with Natalie, he'd been trying—really trying—to be less of an ass. It didn't come naturally, but for her sake, and for Sam's, he was making the effort.

A few days had passed since their argument, and there had been no sign of the witch or the Dark Scroll—the cursed spell book that had gotten Natalie tangled up in all this. She'd been working hard, though, tracking leads and piecing together the book's history. Every time Dean walked past her at the war room table, she was hunched over her laptop, scrolling through old records, auction listings, and black-market websites.

"It's close," she'd said more than once. "I know it's close, I just don't have anything solid yet."

The Dark Scroll had a long, twisted history. Used exclusively for dark magic, it had been passed around for centuries, causing chaos wherever it went. Natalie's grandmother had been the last known owner, but since her death, the book had vanished—likely sold off with the rest of her belongings. Natalie was determined to track it down, though, and Dean couldn't help but respect her determination, even if he still had his doubts about her.

That morning, Sam had burst into the war room with fresh news. "We've got a new case," he said, setting down a stack of papers in front of Natalie. "There's something weird going on in a small town just outside of Lawrence. I think it might be connected to some kind of supernatural entity—a Djinn, maybe—but I need your help with the research."

Natalie glanced up from her laptop, rubbing her tired eyes. "Djinn? Like, grant-wishes-but-then-twist-them kind of Djinn?"

"Exactly," Sam nodded, sifting through his notes. "People have been going missing after making wishes at this creepy old wishing well. I need to cross-reference the town's history with known Djinn activity in the area, but I also want you to keep working on tracking down the Dark Scroll."

"Two things at once," Natalie muttered, stretching her arms. "No problem."

Dean leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange with crossed arms. "Think you can handle that, geek?"

Natalie shot him a look, half-amused, half-annoyed. "I've been handling it so far, haven't I?"

Dean grunted, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fair enough."

Sam shot Dean a warning look, but there was no real heat behind it. He was starting to notice that while Dean was still gruff with Natalie, the edges had softened just a little. That, in Winchester terms, was progress.

"I'll be in and out, checking with local contacts," Sam said, gathering up his gear. "Dean and I will handle the fieldwork, but we'll need you to stay back and monitor everything from here."

"Yeah, yeah," Natalie waved him off with a playful roll of her eyes. "You know I'm your tech support. I'll handle it."

The hours ticked by, and Natalie found herself juggling two tasks—tracking down leads on the Dark Scroll while simultaneously researching Djinn lore and cross-referencing local legends for Sam and Dean. She wasn't sure how she'd fallen so easily into this routine of remote support and hacker extraordinaire, but somehow, she had.

Sam had gone off to investigate the case, leaving Dean behind with her at the bunker for a few hours. He'd been unusually quiet, working on weapons maintenance while Natalie clicked away at her laptop.

"I think I've got something," Natalie said suddenly, her voice breaking the silence. Dean glanced up from the silver knife he was sharpening, his eyes narrowed.

"On the case or the book?"

"The book," she replied, scrolling through an old auction catalog from a black-market dealer. "It was sold off to some collector in Massachusetts a few months after my grandmother passed. I'm trying to track where it went after that, but... it's slow."

Dean set down the knife, wiping his hands with a rag. He stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. "You really think this book's gonna solve all your problems?"

Natalie frowned, not sure where he was going with this. "No. But it's important. You know that. If this witch gets her hands on it, a lot of people could die."

Dean sighed, leaning back in his chair. He knew she was right, but the whole situation still didn't sit well with him. His instincts screamed that they were walking into another mess, another disaster waiting to happen. But that was their life, wasn't it?

"I get that," he muttered. "I just hope you're not getting too wrapped up in this."

Natalie gave him a curious look, sensing a rare moment of honesty from him. "You think I'm in over my head?"

Dean shrugged, his expression guarded. "I think... this life doesn't give a damn about what you're good at or what you care about. It just takes. And sometimes, it takes everything."

Natalie studied him for a moment, her frustration softening. She knew Dean was still processing everything—Charlie, Jack, everyone he'd lost. She could see the weight of that loss in the way he looked at her, in the way he tried to keep his distance.

"I get it, Dean," she said quietly, her tone softer than before. "You've been through a lot. More than anyone should have to deal with. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. This book—it's not just about stopping the witch. It's... it's about my grandmother. I can't just let it go."

Dean stared at her for a long moment, then finally nodded, his gruff demeanor slipping just a little. "Alright. Just... be careful. We've lost enough people."

Natalie gave him a small, grateful smile. "I will."

Hours later, Sam called in from the field, his voice crackling through the comms. "We found the Djinn's lair. It's bad, Dean. People are trapped in their heads, reliving some kind of twisted fantasy."

Dean cursed under his breath, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "We'll handle it. You got the antidote ready?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "But we'll need Natalie to monitor the security system here. We need to make sure no one else gets caught in the crossfire."

Natalie sat up straight, already switching gears. "I'm on it."

"Thanks, Nat," Sam said, his tone appreciative. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

As Dean prepared to leave, he glanced over at her, his expression still serious but no longer hard. "Keep us updated. And... good luck with the book."

Natalie nodded, her fingers already flying over the keyboard. "Good luck with the Djinn. Try not to get yourselves killed, okay?"

Dean chuckled under his breath, a rare sound that surprised even him. "No promises."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Natalie alone in the bunker once again, tackling both the hunt for the Dark Scroll and the Djinn case, her mind buzzing with activity. But for the first time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she wasn't just a liability or a tag-along.

She was part of the team. And that meant something.

As the hours wore on, and the case unfolded in real-time over the comms, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were getting closer—closer to the truth about the Dark Scroll, closer to finding the witch, and closer to figuring out where they all fit in this strange, broken world.

But for now, all she could do was keep pushing forward.

Natalie sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes as she scrolled through another old auction listing, her mind wandering. She couldn't help but think about how insane all of this was. A few months ago, her life had been completely normal—working as a cybersecurity analyst, living in her apartment, never worrying about things like witches or cursed books. Now, she was smack in the middle of a supernatural war zone, all because of a dusty old book her grandmother had bought on a whim.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought, glancing at the laptop screen where she'd been piecing together the history of the Dark Scroll. She had told Dean this over and over: her grandmother wasn't a witch, not some secret sorceress hiding spells in her attic. She was just a woman who had an interest in the strange and unusual—kind of like the way people collect crystals or tarot cards, even if they don't believe in them.

Natalie could still remember her grandmother laughing when she first brought home the spell book.

"It's probably nothing," she'd said with a dismissive wave. "But it's a conversation starter, at least."

But now Natalie was caught in this mess—hunted by a witch coven because of that book. It was surreal and terrifying, and sometimes, when she was alone like this, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anger and grief. Not at her grandmother, but at the sheer unfairness of it all. If her grandmother had known what this book would bring into her life, she would've never bought it.

And yet, here Natalie was—tied to a spell book she barely understood and a witch who wanted it more than anything. Every lead felt like another dead end, and she was getting frustrated, though she'd never admit it to the brothers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam's voice coming through her earpiece, his tone tense.

"Natalie, I need your help. Now."

Natalie snapped out of her reverie, immediately shifting her focus. "What's going on, Sam?" she asked, her fingers already flying over the keyboard.

"We've run into a problem," Sam's voice crackled. "The Djinn's stronger than we thought. We're in the lair, but we can't get the hostages out. We need more time."

Natalie's pulse quickened. She glanced at the monitors, tracking the security feed she'd hacked into earlier. "I'm pulling up the museum's internal system now. What do you need me to do?"

Dean's voice came through next, harsh and breathless, like he'd been in the middle of a fight. "Get those damn doors locked. Keep anyone else from getting into this nightmare. We've got enough on our hands in here."

"Got it." Natalie's fingers danced over the keys, her mind focused and clear now. She hacked into the security panel, overriding the local control system. Within seconds, she had full access. "Okay, I've locked down the outer doors. No one's getting in or out."

"Good," Dean grunted, his voice tight with strain. "Now we just need to figure out how to kill this son of a bitch."

Natalie continued to monitor their movements on the security feed, tracking their progress through the museum's darkened halls. She could see flashes of movement on the grainy cameras—Dean swinging his machete at the twisted, shadowy form of the Djinn, Sam pulling unconscious victims from their nightmarish dream worlds. They were holding their own, but just barely.

"Dean," she called through the comms, "the Djinn's moving toward the west wing. You need to head that way before it traps more people."

"We're on it," Sam replied, panting with effort. "Just... keep those cameras rolling. If it moves again, let us know."

Natalie's eyes darted across the screens, scanning for any sign of movement. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline—the same rush she'd always felt when she was cracking a code or hacking into a system for work. Only now, instead of stopping a cyberattack, she was helping two hunters fight off a supernatural threat.

This wasn't the life she'd chosen, but it was the life she had now. And somehow, she was making it work.

The Djinn was relentless. Dean and Sam were moving as fast as they could, but it was clear from the strain in their voices that they were running out of time.

"Natalie, do we have any other exits?" Sam asked, his voice tight with exhaustion. "We need to get these people out before the Djinn circles back."

Natalie scanned the museum's blueprints. "There's an emergency exit in the north hall. It's not on the usual maps, but I can get it open."

Dean's voice cut in, rough as gravel. "Get it open now."

Natalie hacked into the emergency system, overriding the locked doors. "It's done. You've got five minutes before the system reboots. Get those people out."

"Good work, Nat," Sam said, relief clear in his voice. "We're almost done here."

Dean muttered something under his breath—something that almost sounded like praise. Natalie smiled to herself but didn't press the issue. They were in the middle of a life-or-death situation, after all.

As she continued monitoring the cameras, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye—something darting across one of the screens. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Dean, heads up. It's coming back your way."

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he and Sam dragged the last of the hostages toward the emergency exit. He could feel the Djinn's presence getting closer, the air growing colder and thicker with every passing second.

"Here it comes," Sam warned, gripping his silver knife tightly.

The Djinn emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing an eerie blue as it stalked toward them, moving like a predator ready to strike. Dean stepped forward, machete raised.

"Come on, you ugly son of a bitch," he growled. "Let's dance."

The fight was brutal, the Djinn moving faster than either of them had anticipated. It lashed out with supernatural speed, knocking Sam to the ground before turning its glowing eyes on Dean.

Natalie's voice came through the comms, urgent. "Dean, you need to aim for the heart! It's the only way to kill it!"

Dean gritted his teeth, dodging the Djinn's next attack. "Yeah, thanks for the tip."

He lunged forward, swinging the machete in a wide arc. The blade caught the Djinn in the chest, slicing through flesh and bone. The creature let out a piercing scream, its body convulsing before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Dean stood over it, breathing hard, his muscles aching. "That's right. Stay down."

Sam groaned from the floor, pushing himself up. "We good?"

Dean glanced around, the tension in his body slowly easing. "Yeah. We're good."

Hours later, after the Djinn case was wrapped up and the hostages were safe, Dean and Sam returned to the bunker. Natalie was still at her laptop, her eyes tired but alert.

"How'd it go?" she asked, looking up as they entered the room.

"Djinn's dead," Dean said, collapsing into a chair. "People are safe. Thanks to you."

Sam gave her a grateful smile. "Seriously, Nat. You were a huge help. We couldn't have done it without you."

Natalie smiled, feeling a little warmth bloom in her chest. "Well, I try."

Dean leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "So... any new leads on that damn spell book?"

Natalie sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing concrete yet, but I'm close. I can feel it."

Dean huffed, but there was no real edge to it this time. "Yeah, well. Keep at it. Sooner we get that thing, sooner we deal with this witch."

Natalie nodded, her determination renewed. They still had a long way to go, but for the first time in a while, she felt like she was making progress—on the book, on the witch, and maybe, just maybe, with Dean too.

As the night wore on and the bunker settled into its usual quiet, Natalie couldn't help but think that, despite everything, she was exactly where she needed to be.

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crazyk-imagine · 6 months ago

Text

Cases and Dates

Pairing: Ryan Wolfe x Female!reader

Characters: Ryan Wolfe, Female!reader, Walter Simmons, Jesse Cardoza, Natalie Boavista

Warnings: Fluff, angst for others, pining, idiots having crushes on one another, mentions of movies, character death, walter being readers bestie, this came to me while watching the episode for like the millionth time, reader is kinda quirky, ryan flirts but doesn't expect results

Word Count: 694

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk in, tugging at the collar of your lab coat. “I miss anything fun?”

Ryan lifts his head, smirking. “It’s never fun without you around.”

You roll your eyes and turn to Walter. “Anything I can help you with my giant friend?”

“You know just because I’m tall, doesn’t mean I deserve to be called a giant.”

You shake your head, “it’s not entirely because of that.”

“Then what is it?”

You tilt your head, “you remind me of the iron giant. You know, you’re taller than us but you're the gentlest and always curious.”

“Damn, now I can’t stay mad at you.”

You raise your hand to high five him. “I knew it, nobody can stay mad at me for long.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Walter rolls his eyes.

“What about me?” asks Ryan.

You hum, turning to face him.

“What character do I remind you of?”

“Gollum,” you say with no hesitation.

His jaw drops to the floor.

Walter can’t help himself and does little to hide his amusement. “Damn, that’s cold.”

You smile and walk over towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I mean it in the nicest way.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You know you’re my favorite.” You peck his cheek before walking to the table behind them to start taking samples with warm cheeks.

Walter nudges his friend’s arm and gestures his head in your direction, mouthing, “as her out.”

Ryan shakes his head and responds, “no.”

You lift the sample, wondering if you’re seeing the right thing. “Hey guys.” You misstep and shake your head before stepping closer.

“Are you-” Ryan tries to ask but fails as he starts to feel the effects.

You set the plastic tray down and hold onto the edge of the table, staring out of the room to find a focus point when the others outside begin to fall too.

Walter is the first of you three to fall, Ryan tries to keep himself balanced but is unable to when he sees you start to lose your grip. He reaches for you and pulls you into him, giving you a cushion.

You open your eyes when the sensation of the warmth under you begins squirming.

“Look who decided to wake up, glad you decided to join us.”

You want to kick him but still feel as if your whole body is lagging. “Shut up.”

You push yourself up and find Ryan curled up behind your arm. “What the-”

Natalie crying out for Jesse sends you into a tailspin.

“What the hell happened?” You ask out loud, not expecting to get an answer.

After solving the case and consoling Natalie, you’re drained.

The end of the week could not have come any sooner.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and release a big sigh.

“You done for the day?”

You lightly shake your head, “just about. What about you?”

He shrugs, “heading out as soon as I change.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey, uh-” he hesitates.

“What’s up?”

“Are you- uh-” Ryan hesitates.

“You, okay? Do you smell toast?”

He cracks a smile, knowing your only asking so he’ll stop overthinking. “I- Do you want to go out?” He turns towards his locker, pulling out his bag. “With me, I mean.”

“Ryan Wolfe, are you asking little ol’ me out?”

“When you phrase it like that it makes me not want to.”

“Oh, shut up… but yes.”

“Re- really?” He asks, surprised by your answer. He kind of thought you were just flirting with him for fun, and it wouldn’t really go anywhere.

“Yes, you dork. I’ll go out with you.” You grab your bag and knock it against his. “Where are we going?”

He slams his locker shut, “somewhere you’d like.”

“Very vague of you. Should I be worried? Is this gonna be a meet and murder rather than a meet cute date?”

“It wouldn’t be the wisest move if I killed you considering our profession.”

You shrug, “that’s why it’d be one for the books.”

“Let’s get going before I become more concerned about your thought process.”

You nod, “good idea.”

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Text

ch. 6 - hustling for the good life

table of contents

I’m not projecting I’m not projecting I’m not projecting

forever is the sweetest con

Natalie’s waiting by the door when you come home.

“How was it?” she asks before you can even take your coat off.

“It was fucking amazing,” you sigh. “Gonna suck when we have to break up.”

Natalie gives you a look, that strange one that she sometimes has when she thinks you’re acting like a robot.

“You know that it doesn’t have to end like that, right?” she asks. “You know you deserve happiness and real love no matter what it looks like, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, refusing to look her in the eye. “Obviously.”

Natalies grabs your face with one hand and forces eye contact. “Say it with me: ‘I deserve love.’”

“I deserve love,” you mumble, looking at Nat’s hairline.

“Nuh uh.” She wiggles your face with her hand. “Louder and with feeling this time. ‘I deserve love.’”

You say, “I deserve love,” a little louder and Natalie isn’t quite satisfied, but she lets you go.

“You don’t have to turn your life into art,” she says as you head to your room. “Sometimes you can just enjoy it all by yourself.”

—

Jamie on the other hand, is over the fucking moon. They’ve only got a couple more games until the season’s over, then he’s a free man and he can go wherever you are, following you around like a trophy boyfriend and he’s fucking great with that.

Yes, it’s only been one date, but he’s properly in love.

went great keels he texts late after your date. gonna ask her out again.

Keeley responds with several thumbs up and pink heart emojis. And a black heart. That’s from Roy, she says.

Jamie’s pretty sure it isn’t from Roy, but he’ll accept it all the same.

—

Sam, Colin, and Isaac had accompanied him to the coffee concert, and they had been thoroughly briefed on Jamie’s mission to get you on a date. And properly threatened about keeping it to themselves.

“How’d it go mate?” Colin whispers at training the morning after the date. “What’s she like?”

“Fucking amazing,” Jamie says, taking extra care to stretch his hamstrings.

“What did you talk about?” Isaac asks. “Because she might throw all your deepest secrets in her next album. Got to be careful, bruv.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, she ain’t like that. She’s pretty quiet, actually. Said she hates crowds. I think it gives her anxiety, like.”

“That has to be difficult to deal with in her career,” Sam adds, worried. “I wonder how she will do on her tour?”

Jamie shrugs. “Dunno, mate. Didn’t talk about it. But she’s proper fucking funny. Made me laugh so hard I snorted water out me nose.”

“And she’s still texting you?” Colin asks in mock disbelief. “That’s enough to give me the ick any day.”

They laugh and finish stretching before Roy can yell at them for gabbing like a bunch of schoolgirls.

—

Natalie’s words echo in your head for the entirety of the week.

You can enjoy it all by yourself.

You make it your lock screen so you remember every time you check your phone to see if Jamie’s texted.

You don’t have to turn your life into art. Sometimes you can just enjoy it all by yourself.

So you do.

You attend Richmond’s remaining games, sometimes in the box with Rebecca and Keeley, sometimes in the stands with just enough red and blue face paint to be unrecognizable.

You do end up in the papers, but not for anything major. Just a who’s who of sorts at the games, and you’re never once recognized by anyone when you’re in the stands.

You always wait for Jamie in Rebecca’s office, where he swoops in and plants a kiss before traipsing to his car, where you’ll celebrate with the lads or commiserate over dinner.

Apparently karaoke is somewhat of an AFC Richmond tradition and Sam convinces you to sing at least one song.

“You don’t even have to try,” he says. “And you can make Jamie sing with you. He’s surprisingly good.”

“Fine,” you agree. “One song. And not one of mine.”

“Done!” Sam shakes your hand with a grin. You can’t help but grin back.

You go to find Jamie, who’s perusing the song list with Isaac. He looks up with a smile when he sees you.

“Babe, Isaac’s gonna do Adele,” he says.

“It’s my speciality,” Isaac says.

You laugh and say, “Sounds great, babe.”

You open your mouth to ask if Jamie wants to sing a song with you, but the words get stuck in your throat. What if people think you’re just trying to show off? All you want to do is jump around like an idiot with the rest of the team and their partners.

Jamie, unnervingly, senses something’s up. He gently grabs your arm and steers you to a quieter corner.

“You alright, love?” he asks softly. “We can leave if you need.”

“No,” you say tentatively, “No, I just- I was kind of wondering- do you want to sing a song together? I was thinking it would be kind of fun, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jamie’s face splits into a grin. “Oh I totally fucking want to. D’you like ABBA?”

You scoff. “‘Do I like ABBA,’ what kind of question is that? Of course I fucking like ABBA. You got a song you want to do?”

Jamie shrugs. “Dunno. You?”

You pause for a moment, thinking. Then-

“Oh my gosh I have the perfect one!”

Ten minutes later, you’re both on the stage with microphones as the music starts.

As you begin singing the first lines of Super Trouper, Jamie begins harmonizing and it catches you so off guard that it startled out a laugh.

He’s just being so silly with it, dancing and swinging you around, singing directly in Roy’s face and shimmying with Beard. You can’t help but smile along with him as he attempts to twirl you while still singing. The rest of the room is clapping and singing along, and you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

The song ends and Jamie helps you hop down from the stage, laughing and sweaty.

“Well that was just a treat,” says Ted, but you only have eyes for Jamie.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that!” you exclaim. “I should take you on tour with me.”

“Had to sing, growing up with me mum,” Jamie says. “Tina Turner, Stevie Nicks, fuckin’… ABBA. All the classics. Didn’t really have a choice but to join her, did I?”

A shadow crosses your face.

“You alright?” Jamie asks for the second time that night.

You’re just staring at him, trying to take slow, deep breaths as opposed to the shallow ones you currently have.

“Is it the people?” he asks as he pulls you out the door. “Ted? The song?”

You shake your head. “Tour,” you manage. “Oh fuck.”

Just saying it out loud causes your heart to speed up even faster.

You flex your fingers in Jamie’s hands, trying to ground yourself.

This is the first time you’ve ever panicked in front of him, not counting the night you met. And god, it’s so embarrassing.

Breathe, you idiot, you remind yourself. It’s not that hard.

“Did you know Isaac’s mum has two left hands?” Jamie asks conversationally, as if you’re not cutting off the circulation in his hand.

You pause. “…What?”

“Isaac’s mum has two left hands,” Jamie says again. “Weird, innit? How the fuck does that even happen? Does that mean her palm’s facing the wrong way?”

“I don’t know,” you reply slowly. “Never- never met anyone with two of the same hand.”

“I could ask Isaac for a picture,” Jamie continues, same strangely normal tone. “Wonder if anyone else in his family’s like that. Maybe Isaac’s got two left feet,” he says worriedly. “Come to think of it, never actually seen him without socks.”

That makes you laugh.

You take a deep breath and say, “Thanks. I um, I hate panicking in front of people. It’s kind of shit. Natalie’s usually good at covering for me in public. Same with my exes.”

Jamie nods. “Gaffer said you can shock people out of ‘em. Say something weird, like. He said it’s like scaring someone with hiccups.”

“That doesn’t actually work,” you say.

Jamie gives you a mischievous look. “We’ll find out next time you have them,” he says.

You’re quiet, and he takes the opportunity to gather you in his arms, resting his head on top of yours.

He asks, “Wanna talk about it?” to which you shake your head.

“Actually…” you hesitate. “I do. I keep thinking about my tour. I’m going to be gone for a bit and you have like, practice still even in the off season. Like, you have stuff to do. And this is my first tour and I don’t even know when I’m going to see you even when I’m in London, so that means that we’re probably going to break up and that freaks me out.”

Jamie nods, chin brushing across your hair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we get to it.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you almost believe him.

—

You don’t think about it. You won’t. You’re flying home soon and Richmond just finished their season, Dani scoring and equalizer that meant Richmond is going back up to the Premier League. It was fucking… amazing. You’ve gone from barely knowing the mechanics of football to sitting on the very edge of your seat while Jamie hands the ball off to a teammate instead of taking matters into his own hands.

You’re in the stands, practically on the sidelines, and you can see him mouth the words, “You got this, muchacho. It’ll be fun.”

Post-match, you sneak into the dressing room to jump into his arms.

And if there’s a picture in the papers the next of you out celebrating with the team that night, you couldn’t care less. You’d rather stay in bed with Jamie’s strong arms around your middle, whispering promises he doesn’t have a chance in hell to keep.

—

He drives you and Natalie to the airport to catch your redeye back to America.

“Oi,” he says as he pulls your luggage out of the boot, “text me when you land.”

Natalie politely looks away and makes a retching sound as you pull his head down for a kiss.

“I’ll see you soon,” you reply. “I… I mean, I-”

“I love you too,” Jamie says.

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