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#also it is funny to me how people are complaining about it being thick-thin
botchallthethings · 6 months
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fascinating how very many people are complaining about how a singles yarn isn't good for socks. I blame the manufacturer for putting nylon in it and advertising it as a sock yarn.
it has one ply! why did you think it would be good for socks??? aka about the most hard-wearing piece of clothing possible??
the knitters book of socks has ruined me
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reiding-writing · 9 months
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I feel bad for sending one request after another but like okay hear me out, Spencer is cold and it's very obvious that his skinny ass purple scarf doesnt do much, so reader lends him theirs and he gets really flustered because it smells like them 😭
scented scarves [ s.r ]
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Summary:
Vegas was a pretty warm city even in the winter, a stark contrast to Quantico’s freezing temperature. Needless to say, Spencer wasn’t fairing very well in the cold, and your offer of your scarf leaves him flustered and mildly overwhelmed.
WARNINGS: n/a
pairing: spencer reid × gn!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 1.2k
masterlist!!
a/n: this one’s pretty short but i hope it suffices nonetheless!
thank you for the request, you’re welcome to send as many as you want <33
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It was -2 degrees celsius. 28 degrees fahrenheit.
In other words, absolutely fucking freezing.
The joys of living in Virginia.
It was blatantly obvious which of your team members were acclimated to the colder climates, or more accurately, who wasn’t.
Anyone who walked into your office, profiler or otherwise, would be able to tell.
Garcia was wrapped up in a chunky knitted sweater, a pair of thick tights under her skirt as she padded across the bullpen back to her tech dungeon with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands.
Prentiss was wearing a shirt and a sweater, her hands held out in front of a mini heater on the top of her desk in a desperate attempt to warm up her extremities so the rest of her body would follow suit.
And Spencer…
Spencer was sat cross legged in his chair with two pairs of socks on, a knitted vest over his shirt and a cardigan over his vest, his signature purple scarf wrapped around his neck and covering his chin as his hands gripped his coffee mug like it was the only thing keeping him from turning into a human icicle.
Poor Spencer Reid. Vegas really didn’t serve him well when it came to Quantico winters.
If his trembles weren’t so adorably funny you’re sure you’d feel bad for the boy, but instead you’re muffling a laugh as you walk across the bullpen to sit at your desk beside him, disposing of your bag under the table and unfurling your chunky knitted scarf from your neck to drape over the back of your chair.
One of the pros of being born and bred in Virginia is that you didn’t have to worry about freezing from the inside out.
Spencer’s eyes follow you as you take your seat, and you swear you can see him shudder when you remove your scarf, as if you removing a layer of warmth made him colder.
“You good over there?” You can’t help the amusement painting your face as Spencer stares at you like you’ve got a second head.
“How are you not freezing?” Spencer’s tone carries genuine bewilderment as his eyes scan what you’re wearing, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt, alongside a semi formal blazer that you also shed to lie over your chair.
“It’s climate acclimation Spence, you of all people should know that,”
His expression doesn’t change at your answer, continuing to blankly stare at you like some foreign species that had just invaded the earth. “I know that- logically… But still i’m literally shaking from how cold it is,”
“That’s what happens when you’re a Vegas baby who moves to Virginia,” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as Spencer huffs, taking another sip of his hot coffee in attempt to regulate his body temperature back to something warmer, tucking the narrow purple strips of thin-knitted fabric under his chin to expose his mouth to the mug.
“That scarf isn’t going to do you very much you know, it’s basically a glorified fashion piece,” You weren’t trying to knock on Spencer’s scarf by any means, it’d become a staple of his office wear, one that you definitely weren’t complaining about, but in weather like this it wasn’t really doing him any favours.
“I know…” Spencer sighs at his own intolerance to cold weather.
You’d think having worked in Quantico for half a decade would have stopped him from turning into a human icicle the minute the temperature dropped into the negatives, but no, of course it didn’t. Of course he continued to feel like he was sat in a bathtub full of ice despite having four layers on. Of course he did.
You push your chair back from your desk, the noise of it’s friction against the cheap carpeting of the floor drawing Spencer’s eyes to you once more, and to you bring yourself to your feet and pull your scarf from under your blazer with a small amount of struggle before walking over to him, the scarf stretched out between your two hands.
Spencer doesn’t have the time to question what you’re doing before your scarf is wrapped around his neck, immediately engulfing him in a cocoon of extra heat that his own scarf failed to provide.
He didn’t have time to thank you either, as you departed with a ruffle of your hand in his hair towards the kitchenette to fix yourself a coffee.
At first he’s confused.
Then he’s warm.
And then the lingering scent embedded in the yarn hits his nose and he flushes a bright pink, thankfully hidden under the knit.
Of course it would smell like you. It was your scarf. Your cells would cling to the yarn as you wore it and leave a permanent trace of you behind.
But it smelled like you. And any lingering molecules of coffee in his sensory neurons were immediately overridden with your scent instead.
Any conscious sense of being cold had left his body. His trembling had seemingly stopped, his brain too focused on your scent invading his nose and making him feel fuzzy inside.
You returned with your cup of coffee soon after, Spencer still coming to terms with his reality as you take your seat again. “You look much warmer now,”
You half insinuate the flush on his cheeks, although he’s unsure if you recognise the origin behind it or if you genuinely just believe that your scarf has helped insulate his neck and warm up his face. Which it had, but not as much as your scent had done.
Spencer’s normally sharp mind stumbled over words, and he couldn't help but fidget with the ends of the scarf as he tried to formulate a response.
"Yeah… thanks," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush.
His reaction brought a soft smile to your face, alongside a small chuckle at his seeming inability to form a full sentence. "You're welcome Spencer, but it's just a scarf,”
But for Spencer, it was more than that, it was a tangible connection to you. The combination of your proximity and the familiar fragrance leaving him pleasantly flustered and mildly overstimulated.
As the day unfolded, the team couldn't help but notice the change in Spencer's demeanour. Teasing remarks were exchanged, and Spencer, although still focused on his files, couldn't escape the playful banter.
At the end of the day, you approached him, a twinkle in your eye. "I think you should keep the scarf," you suggested, "You need it more than I do."
Spencer's shy smile revealed his appreciation, and he nodded, holding onto the scarf as a cherished memento of a day that had unravelled his usual composure.
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Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader
Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.
Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more
-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe
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The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.
To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.
Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.
It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.
Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.
And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.
Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.
Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.
Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.
Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.
The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.
You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.
Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.
“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.
“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”
She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”
You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”
“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest. 
“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”
You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”
“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”
Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”
“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.
You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.
“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”
You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”
“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”
Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”
You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.
Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”
The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”
“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”
Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”
Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.
The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.
You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.
“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”
“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”
Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”
Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”
“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.
Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”
“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”
“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.
Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”
“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”
“More then Y/N did actually...”
“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”
Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”
Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”
Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically. 
He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”
“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”
Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”
“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.
“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.
“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.
Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.
Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”
You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.
“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.
“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!
“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.
“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.
“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.
In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.
“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.
The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.
Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”
��Fair point.” He chuckles.
Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”
 After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat,  “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.
“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.
Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.
You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”
Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”
“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”
Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”
Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”
Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”
Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.
Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”
“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.
Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.
Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..
Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.
“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.
Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”
“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.
The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”
Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”
“Always.”
You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.
“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.
Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.
You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”
“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”
Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”
He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.
Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”
He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”
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narutogwriting · 3 years
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Turning Page
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⋇✦ Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader
⋇✦ Genre: fluff; one shot
⋇✦ Synopsis: Naruto never would have dreamed that he would get this sort of happiness, but there you are
⋇✦ CW: none
⋇✦ Length: 1.4k+
⋇✦ Inspiration: Turning Page by Sleeping at Last + @naooseimaiss request
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I’ve waited a hundred years
I’d wait a million more for you
Had Naruto ever expected it? Had he ever even dared to dream about a day like this?
No. No he hadn’t.
Not in Naruto’s wildest dreams would he have let himself believe that someone would love him the way that you did. Someone who would support him, stand by his side through thick and thin. Through every win and especially every failure, every step of Naruto’s journey since he met you, you had been by his side, unwavering.
If I had only felt the warmth within your touch
If I had only seen how you smile when you blush
Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
I would have known what I was living for all along
And Naruto loved you. He loved you so much more than he knew was possible. Naruto didn’t know just how boundless his love really was until he gave you his heart. Holding you for the first time was the greatest pleasure he had ever experienced. Having your smile aimed in his direction lit a fire in him that even the harshest rainstorms couldn’t put out.
He wished he could go back and tell himself, just whisper the words into his own ear those nights as a child he’d spent alone and lonely.
She’s coming. Don’t worry. I know it hurts now, but once she’s here, you’ll see. Every hurt, every pain, every harsh look. Your strangeness, your curse, your always feeling like an outsider. It all existed so you could belong here, with her. It’s all worth it.
The pain you’re feeling can’t compare to the joy that is coming.
What I’ve been living for
Naruto heard once that true love isn’t being willing to die for a person; it’s about who you would live for.
Every day for the rest of his life, Naruto would live for you.
Your love is my turning page
Where only the sweetest words remain
“It won’t go down!” Naruto complained, running a comb through his hair again and again. “I put so much gel on it! Why won’t it stay in place.” He threw the comb with a frustrated shout, observing himself in the mirror.
He’d done his best to comb his hair down into something presentable, but those unruly spikes wouldn’t stay all the way down. “I look like a mess! This is the best day of my life and I look like a mess!”
A light chuckle made him turn. Iruka was smiling at him from the couch, shaking his head. “‘Snot funny, Iruka-Sensei!” Naruto whined, crossing his arms.
Iruka got up, walking over to Naruto, still laughing softly as he stood in front of the blond, hands placed on his shoulders. “What!?” Naruto demanded as he glowered at his old sensei, bottom lip protruding out in a pout.
“It’s just…” Iruka stopped, shaking his head as he felt his throat tightening. “It’s just… I’m so proud of you, Naruto.”
Naruto stopped, taken off guard by the comment. He stared at Iruka, wide eyed before he laughed, giving that close-eyed, big grin he was known for.
“I never thought I’d be one of the people standing by you at your wedding, Naruto. It’s an honor. Truly.” He pulled the boy who was no longer a boy, but a man, into his arms. How long ago had it been that Naruto was just a kid, starved of love and attention, so small he’d barely come up to Iruka’s chest?
You hadn’t just been an answer to Naruto’s prayers, but Iruka’s as well.
Every touch is a cursive line
Every touch is a redefining page
“Quit bouncing, usuratonkachi” Sasuke whispered at Naruto’s side, but there was a lightness to his tone. He’d seen a lot of emotion in the blond over the years. He always thought that the day Naruto had become Hokage was the happiest day of Naruto’s life, but even that day didn’t compare to the utter joy that was on Naruto’s face now.
Naruto only grinned at Sasuke. It was time. Any moment now, you would appear, walking down that aisle wearing your uchikake, and Naruto knew you would look like an angel. He’d asked you not to wear the headdress brides usually did. He didn’t want to ‘hide your horns.’ He didn’t want submission from you.
You were Naruto’s partner; his better half. He loved every single part of your large and wild heart.
His heart was already leaping out of his chest; he didn’t think he would be able to contain himself once he saw you.
I surrender who I've been for who you are
For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart
And there you were. You appeared like a vision, ethereal and effervescent as you glided towards him. Naruto’s breath caught in his lungs. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really breathed before this moment, had never really lived until now.
Naruto was in awe of your beauty. His eyes were locked on yours, glistening with happiness and adoration.
He still couldn’t believe it. That you would look at him that way.
Naruto wanted to stare at you forever, wanted to exist always here, in this moment, but he had to close his eyes. He wasn’t sure when he started crying, but the tears were there, overflowing and blinding them. He smiled as he wiped them from his eyes.
He heard a familiar giggle and when he opened them, you were there, reflecting that same love and adoration.
He couldn’t help it, couldn’t wait.
Naruto kissed you fiercely, holding you close to him like he was afraid you would disappear at any moment. You returned the kiss with the same intensity, arms locking around his neck as you drank him in.
A cleared throat finally broke you too away as you both giggled, eyes never leaving each others.
“If you’d like to begin…” Kakashi laughed.
If I had only felt how it feels to be yours
Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along
What I've been living for
It was perfect. Every moment. You and Naruto had decided to forgo a lot of the wedding traditions, but you kept the nuptial cups. Naruto had suggested it because he wanted to surprise Iruka; have him be his parent that drinks from the cup like your parents would and seals the family together.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
“I love every piece of you, Naruto. Every scratch, every scar. From the demon inside of you to the fire that burns around you. I always always meant to be here, to love you. And I will. Always and forever. Thank you for choosing me. I will never stop choosing you.”
“My whole life, I felt lost. Confused, and empty. And then I found people who were important to me, people that I had to care for and fight for. And I was happy; but sometimes, I still felt so lost and so lonely, and I never understood, because I was happier than ever. And then you appeared. It was like suddenly, the world made sense. Everything just suddenly fell into place. I was lost, and you found me. You taught me that I couldn’t just love others, but that I could also love myself; something I never realized. Thank you for changing my life. Thank you for teaching me things I never knew, and for being my best friend. Thank you for always finding me.”
“I’ll always find you, Naruto. In every world, in every lifetime. If I have to search a million life times, I will find you again.”
Though we're tethered to the story we must tell
When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well
With a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas
Like a feather, bringing kingdoms to their knees
It was the first day of the rest of your life. You had read something once: “To love someone was not what she had expected. It was like falling from somewhere high up and breaking in half, and only one person having the secret to the puzzle of putting her back together.”
You’d read that to Naruto, and he had smiled, because it was true. It did feel like that, and yet, it had never hurt. Because as soon as he had fallen, you’d been there, catching him and putting together all his pieces, just like he’d done for you.
There was something else.
“I wouldn't be surprised if that is the way things go after all - that all things end happy.”
You smiled as you kissed Naruto once more. For the first time in your life, thanks to the number one, hyperactive, knuckleheaded ninja, it was something you could believe.
135 notes · View notes
script-nef · 4 years
Text
An actual break | Gojou Satoru
Category: fluff
2.6k words; Beach date [4/6]
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You haven’t been to the beach in months. So a car trip for hours, where you can blank out and peer out of the window to enjoy the wonderful and ever-changing scenery is amazing. Dipping your feet in the water or eating from food vendors or enjoying the warm summer sun on your skin. Perhaps getting a tan if the weather is perfect. This would all be perfectly enjoyable and possible.
If it wasn’t for work.
“[Surname]-san, why are you coming with us? You said you can’t fight.” Itadori calls from the backseat, nestled not-so-comfortably between Fushiguro and Kugisaki. 
Wouldn’t it be better if Kugisaki is in the middle since she’s the smallest and the skinniest? The thought drifts into your head but you soon understand why. As soon as the words leave his mouth it’s met with a firm and resounding slap on the arm. Itadori’s yelp of pain is silenced under her hiss of “God, you’re so tactless! Now move over, it’s getting cramped with all of the bags.” Ah, she didn’t want to sit in the middle. And what bags? I didn’t bring any.
They keep their banter up and a quick glance to both Gojou and Fushiguro indicates that they have no intention of stopping it. Gojou is actually humming through the bickering. Why do I have to be the adult? He’s like, 5 years older than me. That’s literally what he said as the reason to drive instead of you. 
“It’s fine, Kugisaki-san. I’m coming along because there’s been a lot of cursed spirit activity around here and I need to see if something abnormal is happening. I’m not going to get in the way of the fight so you don’t need to worry.” You send Itadori a smile through the back mirror which he responds with a quick nod, then a confused look.
“Isn’t that Gojou-sensei’s responsibilities?” The mentioned adult laughs and smoothly makes a right turn. You want to slap him.
“Normally, yes, but he insists on being insufferable.” You turn to face them, leaning onto the seat with a scowl. “The report he made was nearly illegible and last time something like this happened, and I had to sit down with him for 3 hours to complete it. Even then, he was going off topic half the time and trying to distract me. Itadori-kun, Kugisaki-san, listen to me. If he doesn’t do his work, you have to practically force him.”
“Doesn’t work.” Fushiguro comments while looking out the window. Gojou has the audacity to laugh again.
“We had a great time! You were laughing your head off by the time we were done.” A light tug on your shirt makes you sit back properly. The scowl stays in place.
“I missed dinner! And I missed the last episode of Haikyuu thanks to that!”
“Fine, fine. I’ll take it up by buying you dinner, okay?” He must be kidding if that makes up for missing your favourite anime. Kuroo came and went thanks to him. The car comes to an abrupt stop just as you’re about to complain again. “We have arrived!”
Salt wafts in the air as the sea twinkles underneath the afternoon sun. It’s hot today, and humid enough to make your clothes stick to your skin, which is gross. Sunny and warm means a swim will be ideal, but you have to take care of the whole recurring curses thing first. Previous reports have said that they were all mid-level, so hopefully Gojou’s students won’t have that much of a problem taking care of them. That also means they, including you as well, might have the opportunity to relax for the rest of the day. 
The actual spot is somewhere in the nearby forest, filled thick with trees and so large that even if someone went missing it would take ages to search. An ideal hunting place since a lot of people visit there. Numbers dropped quite a bit after the fifth person “went missing”. 
The first task is to cover the place with a curtain. Since the place is so large and not encompassing the entire place was deemed too risky, large amounts of cursed energy is required. Hence Gojou’s efforts right now.
“[Name]-san.” Kugisaki calls you. “Are you coming in with us?” Her voice is tentative, like she doesn’t want to offend you. It’s kind of funny because she shows more respect for you than her actual teacher for some reason. Gojou complained about it before. She doesn’t know the extent, or more accurately the lack of, your powers and has a right to be worried. All she knows is that you can’t fight. 
“Ah, I am coming in, but I’ll stay far away from the fight. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“And I’ll be right by her side!” Gojou snaps into thin air, linking his arm with yours.  “Your personal bodyguard! But I’m sure you guys can handle this one.” Still humming a tune, he sends them along their way with a reassuring smile. You smile at Kugisaki and wish her good luck. Shooting Gojou a suspicious glare, she runs ahead to the two boys and starts whispering. They look back at the two of you and get into what seems to be an argument. A bad thing to do right before a possibly life-threatening mission.
You watch the group disappear deeper into the woods, fear gripping at your heart. This is actually the first time in the field after years of being tucked away in an office. Ken-chan specifically requested it due to your unique cursed energy situation. Apparently that was the first time he asked for a favour to the principle and he never asked for anything again. They can handle themselves, you’re sure, but Itadori already had a close call.
“Worried?” Gojou, on the other hand, sounds like he has no concerns in the world. Maybe that’s a testament to how much he trusts his students. It doesn’t alleviate your agitation. “It’s fine, we can just take a break here and if trouble comes, they can take care of it themselves.” You stare at him incredulously. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll step in if something goes wrong. You’re all in safe hands.”
There is no one better than him in terms of fighting with cursed energy. How on earth someone like this gets imbued with endless power, you’ll never know. Sighing, you take a seat on a fallen log. The moss on them tickles your fingers. It feels nice, something to distract you from your brain being its usual bastard and thinking the worst case scenario. Gojou plops himself down right next to you. 
“We can go see them if you’re that worried, mother hen.” Nudging his leg shuts him up. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out for their cursed energy. Eight signals flicker from where they went, three blazing stronger than the others. One of them is nearly blinding. Sukuna is on a completely different level. If there’s that much of a difference in energy, they’ll finish soon and come back to have fun for the rest of the day. God knows they need it.
Your eyes flit open and come face to face with Gojou’s blindfold. It causes you to fall backwards and you brace for impact with a little yelp. But Gojou’s arm surrounds your abdomen, lifting you into the air and onto your feet. Heartbeats thud in your ears thanks to the sudden adrenaline boost.
“Did I scare you?” His laugh is cheeky. “I’m bored… Wanna play 20 questions?” As usual, his train of thought is impossible to even attempt to follow. A window of hundreds of tabs wrestling to be the first all the time is probably what the inside of his mind looks like.
“Sure, why not.”
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Fushiguro, Itadori and Kugisaki all perk up when they receive the news of a day off to enjoy the beach. Since it’s closed off to the civilians, it’ll be like a private party. Something to keep their mind off of another mission that’s bound to come soon.
While they run off to the beach, you go to talk to the park rangers for the paperwork. Gojou asks if you want company but someone needs to supervise the children. The process takes barely 10 minutes anyway.
When you come back to the beach, the trio is screaming in the sea while trying to fight each other. Even Fushiguro is laughing. Childlike innocence is beautiful and long overdue. Two huge parasols and towels are laid out nearby where they’re playing. Gojou is out of his usual attire and in a swimming trunk. His blindfold is still on. Is this what was in the bags?
Now that you look more closely at the students, they’re all in swimwear as well. Looks like you’re the only one that didn’t get a memo. 
“Heya! Done?”  
“No thanks to you, Mr The-Whole-Reason-I’m-Here-In-The-First-Place.” He laughs at the nickname. 
“You should change.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Nobody told me and I was just thinking of dipping my feet.”
“Nobara brought you one. It’s in the bag labelled ‘If you look inside I’m going to kill you.’” Laughter comes out at the absurdity.
“Why did Kugisaki—”
“Because she wants you to relax. Now come on! Let’s have fun!” he pushes you excitedly towards the car. It’s really weird how someone your senior has more energy than you and his three students combined. Sighing, you trek back and find the bag. It really is labelled that, in caps. Kugisaki is a good kid. 
There’s a bathroom nearby for you to change in. The wind is still pretty strong when you walk out but you’re saved thanks to the school jacket. There’s also a pair of flip-flops. Ken-chan must have helped since they all fit perfectly. 
Itadori is being half-drowned when you come back. Fushiguro and Kugisaki are merciless when it comes to fighting. Gojou smiles as you walk into his line of sight. Scooting over to let you into the shade, he lies back onto the towel and stretches his legs out into the sun with a slight groan. You stay sitting up, watching the three children absentmindedly. 
Sunlight tickles your feet. The sea breeze stops it from being too hot but it’s slowly getting stuffier under the jacket. Quickly discarding it, Gojou catches your eyes while you fold it up.
It’s impossible to tell if he’s awake or sleeping thanks to his signature blindfold, but this is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in years; hands folded behind his head and muscles completely loose. Small scars dot his body, probably gained from fights which he deemed insignificant enough to bother Shouko with or heal himself. In a way, it’s a reminder for all the battles he’s survived. Pretty easily too, you’re guessing. There’s a deep one on his stomach and your hand moves towards it for some reason.
Long fingers intercept your hand just before it touches the scratched skin, entwining themselves to you. One end of Gojou’s lips quirks up. 
“I’m going to be embarrassed if you keep looking at my body, you know.” You immediately attempt to rip your hand back but he’s got you locked tight. He’s not even using Infinity. Heat threatens to explode your face because he’s been awake all this time and you’re going to die from shame. “If you wanted to touch me then you could have just asked.” Your fingers graze against the skin on his stomach for a split second but he loosens his grip and you will be damned if you don’t take that chance. 
Gojou cackles, enjoying your flustered state, and he’s halfway to suffocation because he’s laughing too much. His instincts still allow him to move out of the way for your punch. Doesn’t stop him from laughing though. Even his students, who were screaming and playing like they didn’t have a care in the world, are looking at the two of you. God, where’s a hole for me to die in right now?
Eventually, his laughter dies off. He’s still chuckling though. His teeth glint in the light as he gives you a wide smile. A sense of foreboding washes over you. 
“Up we go!”
“What?” Two arms hook under your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly into the air. Your body bounces in his arms every time he takes a step closer to the sea.
“Wait Gojou, wait wait wait wait!” 
“Gojou-sensei wai—” 
The water is freezing. 
“Gojou Satoru, I’m going to kill you!”
“That’s admirable! I’m sure you can do it!” Fushiguro snickers as you swipe an arm at Gojou, who moves away effortlessly again. Hair is plastered to your face and this rage is not going to subside unless you rip the blindfold off his smirking face and dunk his head into the water. But he keeps dodging you, just barely, as if to taunt you further.
Exhaustion sets in quickly since moving around in water is a lot harder and anger eats away at your stamina. Just as you’re about to give up, Gojou’s face is slapped with a wave of water. Everyone looks to Kugisaki. She has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
“Pfft.” Fushiguro’s laughter breaks the silence. Itadori snickers at Gojou’s drooping hair. Soon everyone’s laughing. Then Gojou whips water that hits all three of them straight in the chest with a resounding smack. They immediately retaliate with a wave that you get caught up in. 
It somehow turns into a students vs adults fight. Delighted laughter echoes in the air as everyone yells and shrieks when assaulted with icy water. There’s an unspoken rule to not use cursed energy, which is why your side is being pushed back. There’s no beating three excited kids when they’re on a holiday high. 
Backtracking a bit to get away from the constant surges of water, you don’t realise you’re going deeper and deeper into the sea. A rock shifts underneath your feet and you’re plunged into the cold grips of the sea, not even given enough time to call for help. Panic overtakes your senses as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. 
“[Name]!” Warmth engulfs you as Gojou lifts you out of the murky depth, worry and dread weaved into his voice. You blink rapidly as he gently brushes the hair off your face, and you see his eyes without the blindfolds for the first time. “Look at me, are you alright?”
They’re… indescribably beautiful. It’s the purest and translucent blue you’ve seen in your life, able to beat the colour of the ocean or the sky on its clearest days. It could compete with even the most exquisite sapphire locked up in a vault underground. And they’re clouded with concern and fear because of you.
“[Surname]-san!” Bringing yourself up by hugging Gojou’s neck, you see the trio wading through the water to you, dread clear on their faces. Itadori reaches you and rapidly asks if you’re fine and that he can’t possibly describe how sorry he is. It looks like he’ll dig his head into the ocean floor if you ask him to do it. Like he’s waiting for you to reprimand him.
But all that comes out is laughter, bright and childlike. They all look at you like you’re crazy. You have no idea why you’re laughing either. Maybe you’ve finally gone insane.
But being in Gojou’s arms, seeing his and Itadori’s face relax, brings you so much happiness. Tightening your arms around Gojou’s neck, you rest your head on top of his as he calms them down. 
Maybe it’s the adrenaline from nearly drowning, maybe it’s something else, but your heart thumps rapidly into your ribcage, probably loud enough for him to feel.
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278 notes · View notes
na-yiii · 4 years
Text
Manager-nim (Kim Taehyung x OC) 1/2
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Pairing: Manager! Kim Taehyung x Actress! Named Female OC
Summary: Actress Kan Hayan has been part of the acting world as long as she can remember. Just when she thought her world was about to collapse, she gets introduced to her new manager, Kim Taehyung.
There was something off about him.
Rating: M
Word Count: 12K
Warnings: Non Con (r*pe). Yandere. Smut. Stalking. Sasaeng Behavior. Smut. Abuse. Obsessive Behavior. Gaslighting. Swearing. Eating Disorder. Puking. Pubic Hair. Weight-Shaming. Masturbation (male). Manipulation. Fingering (female receiving). Oral (female receiving). Blood.
Part two: click here to read
A/N: Hey everybody, this is my first yandere story. While writing this story, different ideas kept coming up. This resulted in making a few changes in the warnings. Read the warnings carefully before reading this story.
A special shout out to @deepdarkdelights​ for encouraging me to write this story and giving useful feedback.
Let me know what you think of the story.
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“Hold it. Hold it. Hold it…and let go,” a young man dressed in black said while the arms of a twenty-eight-year-old woman shakenly gave up. As a result, her upper body dropped on the rubber yoga mat. She could feel her core muscles burning. “Good job,” the charming young man said while reaching his hand out to the woman. “I hate it when you force me to do planks, Jungkook” the woman complained while putting her hand in the man’s hand. “Hey, I am just following the workout program,” Jungkook chuckled and watched how the woman pushed her bangs to the side.
Drops of sweat were visible on her forehead, some even slid down her face and eventually landed on the rubber yoga mat. It stunned the twenty-seven-year-old man how a woman could look so beautiful after an intense work-out routine. “You did well today, Hayan,” the doe-eyed man said while he turned around and grabbed a bottle of cold water. “Do you have to be on set tomorrow?” Jungkook asked as he offered the bottle of water to Hayan. With a smile on her face, Hayan accepted the bottle of water and took a few sips. When the cold liquid moistified her dry throat, the young actress felt euphoric. Instead of answering verbally, Hayan decided to take a few more sips while nodding. Jungkook chuckled when he was satisfied with the silent answer.
Once the bottle was empty, Hayan grabbed her towel and wiped away the sweat on her forehead. “Are you done for today?” Hayan questioned while she ran her thin fingers through her thick black hair. She slightly cringed when her hand touched the sweat on her head. “Unfortunately not, I have two more sessions. One with Yoona and afterwards another one with Jihyun,” Jungkook said while taking off his black cap. Gently he ruffled his long dark brown hair. “They are fun, so you won’t be bored,” Hayan said as she collected her stuff. “True but I just want to go home, eat some spicy ramen and play Overwatch,” Jungkook told the actress. The thought of ramen almost made his mouth water. Hayan chuckled. “Lately I have heard so much about Overwatch,” the celebrity informed her trainer while her mind reminded her the last time she saw an Overwatch ad. “Yeah it recently had a new update with new features,” Jungkook told her while he looked at her. “I see. Anyway, thank you for today,” the twenty-eight-year-old thanked the black-dressed trainer as she threw her towel over her shoulder. “It was my pleasure, Kan Hayan” Jungkook said and smiled at her. Hayan giggled when Jungkook said her full name with his thick Busan accent. “Have a nice evening, Jeon Jungkook,” Hayan playfully imitated his accent. Even though her imitation was impressively spot-on, it made Jungkook laugh. Hearing the actress speak in an unusual manner was always funny to him.
Quietly Kan Hayan walked through the hallways of the sports center. Usually, she would take a quick shower to get rid of the sweat but today the actress was in a good mood so she decided to deal with perspiration a bit longer while she walked to the nearest elevator. During her walk to the elevator, the young actress encountered a few fellow celebrities. Politely she greeted them. She respectfully bowed to her seniors and initiated a short conversation with her juniors. Even though Hayan has been living in the famous and luxurious apartment complex, Jinju Haneul, for a year now she still gets surprised when she sees a fellow celebrity.
Jinju Haneul is a high-quality residential compound that reflects the characteristics of wealth to the maximum extent. From the inside the floors were made from marble, walls were decorated with expensive paintings, crystal chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling and at every corner there was a statue of an influential figure. Even the stairs looked expensive. The apartments had a marvelous view over the Han River. There was a forest nearby where the residents could go to for a peaceful walk without getting bothered by the average folk, curious fans, or nosy reporters. The large building included a gym, an art gallery, daycare center for the celebrities’ children, a movie theatre, and a shopping mall. It was the perfect place if you were part of the group of people who made one million dollars annually.
Hayan looked at her Chanel watch and saw it was almost 9 PM, which means her mother will soon wake up from her nap. Hayan’s mother had some odd habits but since she is her mother Hayan just dealt with it without showing any complaints. Currently, Hayan was not in the mood to deal with her mother. The young performer was not sure whether her mother would be in a good mood or not. So Hayan decided to go to the park to get some fresh air and enjoy the peace while it lasted. With her arms crossed over her chest, the black-haired actress made her way to the nearby forest.
It was a quiet evening. The weather was on the warmer side while a gentle breeze occasionally caressed Hayan’s cheek. There were not many celebrities in the forest, which something Hayan did not mind. Occasionally, she crossed paths with a celebrity mother and her child but other than that Hayan enjoyed the solitude and silence. After walking around for some time, Hayan sat down on a wooden bench. She looked up at the night sky hoping to see some stars but unfortunately, there were no stars to spot.
While Hayan sat on the bench and enjoyed the warm weather, her mind started to wander. With eyes focused on the gravel, her brain reminded the actress of her child actor days. The days when she used to feel uneasy being surrounded by adults. The times her classmates used to bully and ostracize her after Hayan made an appearance in a commercial for a new type of ramen, which was also the same commercial that kicked off her acting career. Some days, the young actress wondered if it was a fair trade to exchange her salad years for her current fame. From time to time, Hayan wondered what her life would have looked like if she had never caught the attention of legendary movie director, Bae Jae-Hwan. Would people have looked at her differently if she had never played in the famous drama, Why Roses Are Never Green? Would she be dancing and drinking in a random club in Itaewon with her friends from college, instead of being trapped in this exhausting lifestyle?
As Hayan slowly delved deeper in her thoughts, she did not notice a dark figure arise from the bushes. Suddenly Hayan felt uneasy, it felt like someone was watching her. The sound of a snapping branch woke her up from her thoughts and brought her back to planet earth. The young superstar looked to the left and saw a silhouette. The silhouette belonged to a man. It was a tall man with broad shoulders. It looked like the man was holding a bag in his hand. Something that caught Hayan’s attention was the man’s bright red hair.
“Can I help you?” Hayan asked hoping that the voice of the stranger might reveal his identity. But alas she did not get any response from the mysterious man. The performer was not sure whether she should call the security or not. The silhouette just stood there. Hayan could feel his gaze burning on her skin. Suddenly the red-haired man started to move and walked towards Hayan. Anxiously, the film star stood up and walked in the opposite direction. She cursed herself when she realized she did not have her phone with her. When the footsteps came closer, Hayan’s heart started to beat faster while her brain tried to come up with an escape plan.
A scream came out of Hayan’s mouth when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?” a familiar male voice asked her. The female celebrity opened her eyes and looked at the concerned face of Lee Min Ho. “I saw you walking and you looked quite distressed. Is everything okay?” the famous actor asked Hayan while she looked around. There was no sign of the red-haired man. No footprints, no objects that possibly belonged to the man, just nothing. It seemed like what just occurred never happened. “Yeah, I am fine,” Hayan told to Minho and gave him a reassuring smile. Lee Min Ho’s presence made Hayan feel safe again. If the red-haired man decided to show up again, at least now she does not have to face him alone. “Did you spot a reporter?” Minho asked while he looked around, trying to find something or someone what might have caused Hayan to feel anxious. But alas, there were no signs of disturbances.
When Minho offered Hayan to walk her to her apartment, she gladly accepted the kind offer. The two superstars walked next to each other while talking about their latest projects. Once the two former co-stars stood in front of Hayan’s apartment, they wished each other goodnight before parting ways. Hayan’s worries and nervousness melted away when she closed her door behind her. She felt save in her golden cage.
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The ticking sound on a keyboard was the only sound that could be heard in the dimly lit room. The source of the light came from a small green desk lamp that was placed on a wooden table.
A middle-aged woman stared intently at the laptop screen. Suddenly she stopped typing and looked up. “Come in,” the woman said and watched how the brown door got pushed open. Her son entered the room.
“Good day, son. What can I do for you?“ the middle-aged woman asked while she looked at her teenage child. “Mother can you do something for me?“ her son asked when he sat on a chair in front of her.
“What is it, dear?“ the woman asked curiously. The young boy grabbed a picture and placed it on the wooden table. It was a picture of a familiar face. A face that the woman has seen multiple times on her television screen.
“Can you make sure she gets accepted?“
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It has been now a week since the incident with the red-haired man. The past week, Hayan did not go back to the park. Which was something she was unhappy about, the park was something the actress loved about Jinju Haneul. It was a place where she always went to when she needed to escape her chaotic life or avoid her mother’s outbursts. But Hayan feared that she might encounter the mysterious man again. She could not stop wondering what would have happened if Minho had not been there. Would the stranger have asked her for an autograph and then left quietly? Or would the stranger have disregarded her boundaries and attacked her? There were so many things he could have done to her. The day after the incident, Hayan reported the event to the security team hoping they would quickly capture the intruder and bring back the peace. Unfortunately, it was not her first time being confronted by a confused stranger. The young actress has had her fair share of getting bothered by obsessed fans.
Hayan has been dealing with sasaengs ever since she had her first big break at the age of nine when she starred in a movie alongside with veteran actor Chun Ho-Jin. She still remembers the day when a confused woman showed up at her school and attempted to kidnap her, luckily her father was there to protect Hayan. The incident impacted the nine-year-old girl immensely. So much so that she had to go to a therapist to learn to cope with it. One of the worst incidents she experienced was when she was nineteen. A male fan gave her a plushie during a fan meeting. Initially, the gesture seemed so innocent. The plushie looked so cute that Hayan decided to keep it but the kind gesture was just a cover-up. At the end of the day, she discovered there was a camera inside the plushie. That experience made her sick to her stomach. Causing her to suffer from insomnia for almost two years.
A deep sigh escaped from Hayan’s lips as she folded a pink handwritten fan letter and put it back in its envelope. It was a quiet afternoon in Seoul. Hayan finished early today, which was something she was happy about. She had been on set since 5 am. With little sleep and barely any food in her system, she had to film scenes that were physically exhausting and intense due to all the running and fighting. Hayan put the pink envelope in a box and grabbed another fan letter she received today from her fans, who were waiting for her outside the movie set.
Gently she opened the envelope and pulled the letter out of it. The moment Hayan opened the letter, a metallic and slightly sweet smell entered her nose. When the letter was fully unfolded, a bunch of short black hairs fell out of the letter and landed on Hayan’s hands. A few hairs fell from her hands and landed on her pink silk Burberry dress. Surprised Hayan looked at it but quickly her stomach turned. The black things were pubic hair. Shocked the young actress grabbed a tissue and wiped the black pubic hair off her hands and dress. She felt so dirty knowing that someone else’s pubic hair touched her. Hayan looked at the letter.
Do not talk to Lee Minho, princess. You are mine!!
The words were written in red. Horrified the performer stared at the letter while she tried to remember if she had seen a red-haired man today. No matter how hard Hayan tried but she just simply could not recall a moment when she had encountered the mysterious man. The metallic smell interrupted Hayan’s train of thoughts. A wave of nausea hit her when she realized the letter was written in blood.
Hurriedly, Hayan threw the letter in the nearest trash bin. Without thinking too much, Hayan grabbed the remaining fan letters and threw them in the trash bin. Her skin was crawling while her stomach tried its best to keep her lunch inside.
“Hayan!”
A feminine voice echoed through her luxurious apartment. Hayan recognized the voice, it was her mother’s voice. Hayan took a few deep breaths in order to calm herself. The superstar looked at the trash bin. I will call the maid after this, she thought to herself while she stood up and made her way to her mother.
“Yes, mother?” Hayan asked when she stood in front of her mother. Without saying anything, Hayan’s mother grabbed the young actress by her arm and dragged her to the bathroom. “Take off your clothes!” the middle-aged woman commanded while pushing the superstar closer to the scale. “What?” Hayan asked confused while she tried to understand the situation. “Take it off!!” her mother yelled while looking angrily at her daughter. Afraid and confusticated, Hayan took off her clothes. When she stood naked in front of her mother, she felt uncomfortable. Shivers ran down her spine. Hayan was not sure whether it was because of the chilly bathroom or her mother’s coldness. “Stand on the scale,” Hayan’s mother ordered and watched how her twenty-eight-year-old daughter moved closer to the scale.
Hayan’s mother sighed disappointedly when she saw the number that was shown on the scale. The silence between mother and daughter was killing Hayan. Moments like this she wished there were a script so she could give the appropriate reactions to her mother. Suddenly Hayan’s left cheek started to burn while a handprint became visible on her cheek. Her mother hit her. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you to weight above that bloody number?!” the middle-aged woman yelled while she grabbed her daughter’s long black hair and roughly moved Hayan’s face to the scale’s direction, showing her the evidence of something her mother deemed as a sin.
“I am sorry,” Hayan said while tears started to escape from her eyes. After having seen her mother’s ugly side, Hayan was taught it was better to show no reaction. For her safety, it was better to endure her mother’s temper tantrums. But currently, Hayan could not help but let her emotions take over her. She had barely any chance to recover from that terrible fan letter. “Do you want to be seen as a whale?” Hayan’s mother questioned while tightening her grip. When Hayan did not respond, the middle-aged woman got furious. Aggressively, she dragged her daughter to the sink. “Spit the food out that you had earlier!” Hayan’s mother commanded. Hayan stood there while staring at the sink, not knowing how fulfill her mother’s wish. When Hayan’s mother lost her patience, she raised her hand and hit her daughter once again. “SPIT IT OUT NOW!” Hayan’s mother shouted while digging her long nails into Hayan’s skin causing it to bleed. Terrified Hayan attempted to force herself to puke but her body refused to cooperate. Suddenly her mind reminded her of the nasty letter she received a while ago. The blood and pubic hair flashed in front of her eyes while her nose was reminded of the nasty smell.
A satisfied smile appeared on the middle-aged woman while she watched her daughter vomit above the white marble sink. Shocked Hayan looked at the food in the sink while her brain tried to process everything that just had transpired. Gently Hayan’s mother cupped the young actress’ face and looked into Hayan’s red teary eyes. “You did well, darling,” she praised her daughter knowing that if her child continued this curse, she would be desired by the public again.
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The silence was the only thing present in the house till a quiet moan disturbed the peace. A brown-haired man sat on a large chair as he stroked his hard length with his right hand. He closed his eyes and pictured the beautiful woman in front of him.
He gently pushed the woman on his bed and looked at her. She was so beautiful. Her innocent face made him almost feel guilty for doing this to her but her curves and her hardened nipples, which were poking through her dress, made him want to sin. He wanted to ruin her innocence and stain her with his filth. Hastily he ripped the green silk dress off her body. Gently his hands traveled over her soft skin while he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. “Please” she whined in his ear. Making him hornier.
“Fuck…” the man moaned while he opened his eyes. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his face. Eventually landing on his naked chest. His eyes landed on a photo frame, prompting him to move his hand faster while he tightened his grip. “Aw baby,” he cried out when he reached his climax. He quickly moved closer to the photo frame and shot thick ropes of cum. The cum decorated the photo frame.
The man leaned back on the chair while he took a few breaths to come back from his high. He lowered his eyes and licked his lips while he stared at the picture of Kan Hayan, which was now covered in his cum.
“I love you,”
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“Here we are,” Min Yoongi said when he parked the black van in the parking lot. Slowly he turned around and looked at Hayan. The superstar took off her AirPods and looked at her manager. The young actress’ eyes were red, it looked as if she had cried. “Are you all right?” Yoongi asked while looking concerned at Hayan. Lately, she has not been herself. Usually, Hayan would always have dinner with her co-stars to celebrate a successful shooting day but recently she turned down every invitation and went straight to home after she was done filming her parts. “Are you still upset about what happened at the park?” Manager Min questioned as he moved his hand to his bag and grabbed a small bottle. “Yeah, the security said they haven’t found him yet,” Hayan said softly. “That probably means that the guy gave up and found a new hobby. Here this will make the red lines in your eyes disappear,” Yoongi told to the young actress while he handed her the small bottle. The dark-haired man got out of the car to grab some stuff from the trunk. Hayan put a few drops of the solution in her eyes and blinked a few times while her stomach begged her to eat something.
After politely greeting everyone on the set, the superstar made her way to her dressing room to memorize her lines. She was seated on a comfortable chair. A cup of green tea was placed on the table next to her while her makeup artist, Remi, grabbed a bottle of foundation. “Why is your skin so swollen lately?” Remi asked while she looked at Hayan’s puffy cheeks. “Did the agency change your diet?” Remi asked while she squirted some foundation on the back of her hand before grabbing a foundation brush. “Yeah, can you be quiet for now? I am trying to memorize my lines,” Hayan said without looking at Remi. The way how Hayan spoke it was clear that she was annoyed. Hayan did not want to be reminded of her wrongdoings. “All right,” Remi said while she gently applied the foundation on her face.
The entire day, Hayan was on set. Today she had to film so many scenes with her co-star, Kim Seokjin. The two got along well. He was kind and cracked a few dad jokes to make Hayan feel comfortable before they had to shoot their steamy make-out scenes. Hayan and Seokjin are familiar with each other. Before getting cast for this movie, the two good-looking stars were the face of a skincare brand and last June they were on the cover of Vogue Korea. Due to their frequent collaborations, the public was convinced that the two stars were romantically involved with each other, despite both of their agencies had denied the rumor.
Currently, it was almost 11 pm and all cast members were preparing to shoot the final scene for the day. Kan Hayan was resting in her dressing room. She was enjoying the quietness until it got interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” Hayan said while she opened her eyes and watched her manager enter the room. “Hey, Jisoo wants to talk to you,” Yoongi said while he tried to hide his nervousness. “Kim Jisoo?” Hayan asked while raising her eyebrow. Yoongi nodded and left the room before Hayan could ask any more questions. Hayan did not understand why her other co-star wanted to talk to her. Ever since a reporter wrote an absurd article about Hayan and the nation’s favorite contemporary dancer, Park Jimin, there has been some tension between two movie stars. Hayan had multiple times explained to Jisoo why she was at Jimin’s house and that there was no romance between the two despite all the speculations. Maybe Jisoo had finally realized that her rudeness towards Hayan was unjustified and now she wants to apologize for it.
While walking to Jisoo’s dressing room, Hayan had a strange feeling. Her senses told her to turn around and go back but for some reason. Gently Hayan knocked on the door when she stood in front of Jisoo’s dressing room. “Enter,” Jisoo said from the other side of the door. When Hayan entered the dressing room, she got greeted by Jisoo and another woman. It took a moment before it dawned on Hayan who the other person was, it was Jisoo’s younger sister Jennie. Kim Jennie was a famous rapper and singer Korea, she was loved for her beauty and often praised for her singing and rapping skills. Hayan did not understand why Jisoo’s younger sister was present on the set. Suddenly Jisoo stood up from the bright pink couch and walked towards Hayan. “Have fun, Jen,” Jisoo said while she bumped her shoulder against Hayan’s. With a smirk on her face, the pretty actress left her dressing room. Hayan turned back to Jennie and watched how she stood up from the couch. She did not like the atmosphere in the room, it felt hostile and unsafe. Hayan wanted to turn around and leave the room.
“I heard you were spending time with Jimin,” Jennie said while she looked at Hayan. “Uhm I am sorry but what is going on?” Hayan asked while watching how Jennie came closer to her. “You don’t get it, sweetie? It’s because you’re just too dumb.” Jennie responded. Hayan was caught off guard with Jennie’s unkind remark. Before Hayan had the chance to respond, Jennie grabbed Hayan’s shirt and pulled her closer. “You think you are so precious, don’t you?” the rapper said while she watched how the actress looked shocked at her. “I need to g-” Hayan did not get the chance to finish her sentence, a painful slap landed on Hayan’s cheek. “You are always going from one man to the other. Don’t you think that your reckless behavior is hurting some people?” Jennie questioned. Tears streamed over Hayan’s cheeks as she tried to come up with a plan to escape.
With a smirk on her face, Jennie watched in silence how the talented actress seemed so small and weak. On screens, she portrayed herself as a tough woman but Hayan had a hard time defending herself. Suddenly the silence between the two celebrities got interrupted by the director yelling everyone to come on the set so they can shoot the final scene. Hayan looked at Jennie and started to wonder if this was the right moment to scream for help. “See you later, sister” Jennie suddenly said while she grabbed her black leather jacket and left the distraught actress behind. Not wanting to upset the director, Hayan quickly got up and wiped her tears away. With trembling legs, she made her way to the set.
“All right let’s quickly do the water scene…Action!” the movie director said as he sat back behind a screen and watched how the actors portrayed their characters. When it was time for Hayan’s character to make an appearance, the distressed actress remained in her position. Countless questions and thoughts floated through her brain while her stomach desperately looked for food in her system to keep her going. Suddenly a warm landed on Hayan’s shoulder. A scream escaped from her lips while her heart was racing. “Are you all right?” Jisoo asked while a devilish smile appeared on her angelic face.
Suddenly all the noises slowly got muted while the bright studio lamps became blinding. Hayan felt her body becoming weaker. Her heartbeat became irregular while her body tried to keep itself warm. Her brain was sending so many signals but none of them got received. Jisoo stood there and watched how her co-star fell on the ground while trying to stay conscious. Jisoo sat next to her and wiped her tears away.
“Don’t worry Hayan, he will take good care of you,”
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The smell of carbolic acid and flowers made their way into Hayan’s nose when she opened her eyes and blinked a few times. The brightness in the room almost made the young actress believe she was in heaven but those thoughts quickly came to an end when she realized she was in a hospital room. She looked around the room and noticed a bunch of flowers, stuffed toys and baskets filled with food were placed on a table close to her bed. The quietness in the room got interrupted when a deep groan echoed through the room. Hayan startled when the sound entered her ears. Suddenly she realized one of her hands was warmer than the other one, she looked down and saw a large hand holding her right hand. She traced her eyes from the hand to a wrist afterwards following to an arm and eventually landing on the face of a man.
Who is this? Hayan asked herself while she stared at the sleeping man. He had thick dark eyebrows. His eyes were closed but they were big. His eyelashes were long, thick, and curled. His nose was slightly larger while his lips were pink with a layer of lip balm. His hair was dark blond and slicked back. His outfit looked quite formal. A white blouse hugged his body while a green gilet added some color. The green-tie matched his gilet. The guy was breathtakingly handsome.
Hayan stared at him. There was something familiar about him.
Suddenly the silence in the room got interrupted by the sound of a door getting pushed open. Hayan quickly pulled her hand out of the tight grip, causing the unknown man to groan and open his eyes. “You’re finally awake,” the charming man said while he smiled. His voice was a lot deeper than Hayan expected to be. The way he spoke it was similar to Yoongi’s. He was, just like Yoongi, from the south. His smile was unique, it did not have the sideways half-moon shape like everyone else. His smile resembled a square. The unknown man trapped Hayan’s hand in his large hand while looking at her with his dark piercing eyes. Hayan tried to look away but no matter how hard she tried, she just could not look away.
“Good morning Ms. Kan,” a feminine voice interrupted the somewhat staring contest between the two adults. Hayan wanted to pull her hand out of the grip once again but this time the man tightened his grip, making it impossible for her to escape his grasp. “I am doctor Yang. I hope you had a good sleep,” Dr. Yang said while she stepped closer to her. “Wha- what happened?” Hayan asked with confusion written all over her face. “You fainted on the set” the handsome mysterious man informed the young actress. “Who are you?” Hayan asked while roughly pulling her hand out his grip. Even though her hand was pressed against her chest, she could still feel his warmth on her hand.
“How impolite of me. I am Kim Taehyung, your new manager,” the dark-blond-haired man said while bowing to her. “New ma- Where’s Yoongi?” Hayan asked while looking around the room, hoping to see something that proved that Yoongi had been in the room. “He is fired,” Taehyung revealed to Hayan. “Why?” Hayan asked while looking disbelieved at Taehyung. “Because he failed to take care of you,” Hayan’s new manager said to her. “What do you mean? He took good care of me,” the young actress defended her former manager. “He failed to recognize you were suffering from an eating disorder,” Dr. Yang weighed in.
Hearing those words coming from a professional silenced the actress. It was something she was fully aware of yet she refused to admit it. “Aside from that you were also overworked and exhausted,” Dr. Yang added while Hayan was hesitating whether she should accept the revelation or not. “I know this is quite the shock but see it as a wake-up call. Being underweight will have serious repercussions on your health,” the doctor told to the actress. Hayan slowly nodded and looked at the doctor. “I will send the results along with the right recovery plan to Mr. Jung so that you can convalesce,” he said and gave the performer a hopeful smile.
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“Hayan wake up,” a baritone voiced as whispered into Hayan’s ear as a warm hand gently landed on her hand. The black-haired actress opened her eyes and looked at her new manager who smiled at her with his famous boxy smile. “The plane has landed,” Taehyung informed her while he unbuckled his belt. Hayan copied his action and grabbed her red Burberry bag. Like a shadow the performer followed her manager and exited the plane. Hayan’s body was wide awake while her mind was still at sleep. Prior getting get stuck in a plane with her manager, she was on set for ten hours straight. Just as usually she gave it her all knowing that she will be able to catch up on sleep the coming two weeks.
While Taehyung was busy texting with Kim Namjoon, the CEO of RM Entertainment. The dark-blond-haired man informed his boss about their safe arrival in Toronto and the current wellbeing of Hayan. The actress’ head rested against the car window while she looked out of the window. The streets of Toronto look much more peaceful, Hayan thought to herself as watched how people walked through the streets. After a peaceful thirty-minute car ride, the two adults arrived safely at Shangri-La Hotel.
“So what do think?” Taehyung asked as he put the suitcases in a corner and looked at Hayan, who was standing in front a large window. “The suite is marvelous,” the actress said while enjoying the beautiful city view. “That’s great to hear,” her new manager said when he stood next to her. “Why don’t you take a shower while I order some food,” Taehyung suggested as he secretly admired the performer’s beauty. Even with dark circles under her eyes and chapped lips, she still looked breathtakingly beautiful. Hayan nodded and made her way to the bathroom.
The white marble bathroom reminded her a lot of her home back in Seoul. Hayan filled the bathtub with warm water and add a few drops of lavender as she undressed herself. Without wasting too much time, she stepped into the bathtub and unwind when the lavender scent entered her nose. Being in a foreign country without any work commitments felt weird to the young actress. Knowing that her schedule for the coming two weeks will be empty, made her feel weird. Hayan has been working as an actress as long as she can remember. When was even the last time she properly relaxed? While the warm water relaxed her sore muscles, Hayan looked out of the window and enjoyed the city view. Once the water had turned cold, Hayan got up and dried her wet body with a soft towel.
When the actress entered the bedroom, she quickly put a white blouse that provided gave her enough comfort to move around easily while a tight blue pair of jeans hugged her legs snugly. Just when Hayan wanted to blow dry her long black hair, something caught her attention. An orange velvet blanket was placed on her bed. Without any explanations or much thought, anger and disgust took over her body. “Taehyung!” Hayan called as she stared at the velvet blanket. “Yes?” Taehyung asked when he entered the bedroom and looked at the actress. “Get that hideous thing out of this room,” Hayan said as she pointed at the velvet blanket. “Uhm alright…?” Taehyung said and he walked to the bed. “Do you want me to get a new velvet blanket?” manager Kim asked as he grabbed the orange velvet blanket. “I hate velvet, you can use it but keep that thing away from me,” Hayan said angrily. She did not understand why the woven tufted fabric always made her feel disgusted but it for some reason. Every time Hayan saw something that was made from velvet, it did not only make her feel sick on the inside but it also made her skin crawl.
The first three days in Toronto was peaceful. Hayan was the entire time in the luxurious bedroom and spending her time reading the books she always wanted to read or sleeping. On the fourth day was about the end the same way as it did the previous three nights till a sudden knock on the door broke the silence in Hayan’s bedroom. “Come in,” the actress said as she looked up and saw her new manager enter the room. “Hey, are you hungry?” Taehyung asked when he sat on the bed. Hayan shook her head and looked back at her book. For a moment there was an awkward silent between the two adults. Even though they have known each other for a month now, but there is was always a strange feeling Hayan felt when she was around her new manager. “You know, food is not your enemy,” Taehyung said to Hayan. Surprised she looked up at Taehyung. “I know you are feeling a lot pressure from the company and the public to look psychically appealing but does not mean you should sacrifice your health,” the dark-blond-haired man said as he looked at Hayan’s collarbones. “I am fi-,” Hayan did not get the chance to finish her sentence because Taehyung quickly interrupted her by saying: “Hayan, please take a proper care of yourself. Look what your refusal of eating food did to you,” It were words the actress did not wanted to hear. She did not want to be reminded with the fact that something was wrong with her. “Don’t let your mother take control of what’s yours,” Taehyung as he carefully put his hand hers. Confused the young performer looked at her manager. How did he know something she had never mentioned?
Before Hayan could let Taehyung’s word sink in, she found herself sitting in the living room with her manager. Various types Chinese food was placed in front of her. The food smelled so delicious while everything looked so delectable. “Here try this,” Taehyung as he picked up four-leafed shaped wrapper with his wooden chopsticks. “What is it?” she asked while the smell entered her nose. “It’s called Cream Cheese Rangoon,” the dark-blond-haired man said and held it close to Hayan’s lips. “I am not hungry,” the twenty-eight-year-old woman said as she moved back to create more distance between herself and the delicious smelling food. Just at that moment Hayan’s stomach cried out for food. Taehyung chuckled. “I think your stomach thinks otherwise,” the twenty-nine-year-old said as he moved closer to her. “Please just one bite, if you don’t like it then you can go back to the bedroom and I will leave you alone,” Taehyung pleaded as he looked at her with puppy eyes. Hayan looked into his dark eyes. They were beautiful yet mysterious. His eyes shape, his eyebrows, the tiny mole on his lower eyelid. It all seems to familiar. Why does it feel like Hayan had experienced this before?
“Have we met each other before?” Hayan asked while her brain dug deep to find a memory. The question caught Taehyung off as he moved back and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “That’s very unlikely, Ms. Kan,” The man said as he looked away. The actress shook her head, she must have mistaken this moment with a scene she had played in a movie or drama. “Can I try some of the chicken?” Hayan asked. “Yeah sure, please dig in,” Taehyung said while he brough the plate of chicken closer to the female performer. When the honey sesame chicken touched Hayan’s taste buds, she felt overjoyed. The piece of chicken luscious. “Not bad,” Hayan said and looked at her manager. “Not bad? The chicken is succulent and well-seasoned,” Taehyung spoke with his mouth full of food. The actress could not help but to chuckle.
As the two adults ate while watching a Canadian tv-show. From the corner of her eye, Hayan kept an eye on her manager. Suddenly a tune echoed caught Taehyung’s attention. “An email from Namjoon?” Hayan asked as she picked up some noodles with her chopsticks and ate it. “No, a notification from my game,” Taehyung said while he put down his chopsticks and started to play a game. “Game? What kind of game?” the black-haired woman asked as she moved closer to him to get a glimpse of the game. Taehyung chuckled. Her curious face is so cute, he thought to himself as he pushes his laptop closer to her. “It’s a first-person shooting game,” he explained as he showed her how he shot someone in the game. “Do you want to try?” Taehyung asked out of the blue. “I have never played games like this before,” Hayan said as a hint of pink shade appeared on her cheeks. Oh, Hayan your cuteness is killing me, Taehyung thought to himself as he stared at her. “Well there’s a first for everything,” the tall man said and put his laptop on the actress’ lap. He quickly explained which buttons needed to be pressed. Once he was done, he grabbed his plate and continued to eat while he watched Hayan play the game.
After losing for the fifth time, Hayan pushed the laptop away. “You play,” she said as her lips formed a pout. Please Hayan do not do that, it reminds me of when… his thoughts got interrupted when Hayan poked his cheek. “Hey, pay attention, you almost got shot,” Hayan said. Her brief yet gentle touch gave him goosebumps.
While Taehyung was playing the game, the actress sat next to him and watched him play. Hayan looked at Taehyung and studied his features. From his eye-catching facial characteristics to the texture of his skin.
Why does he look so familiar?
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Rays of sun found pierced though the small opening between the white curtains and illuminated the luxurious hotel bedroom. Hayan was sleeping peacefully. Her head rested on a red satin pillow while a thick blanket kept her body warm. Suddenly the tranquility came to an end when a warm hand gently caressed her cheek.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” a deep voice whispered. Hayan was too deep in her sleep to give a response. Taehyung chuckled and laid next to her on the bed. Adoringly he watched her sleep. In his eyes she looked like an angel. If he could, he would watch her sleep all day long. The dark-blond-haired man moved closer to the actress and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. The kiss was too light and gentle to be noticed. “I've missed you since you left me …Are you still mad at me?” Taehyung talked into her small ear. A smile appeared on the man’s face when the woman groaned when a sunbeam found its way to land on the actress’ face. She rubbed her eyes while moving her away to avoid the sun ray. Taehyung quickly got off the bed when Hayan opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Good morning,” she said with her morning voice. It sounded like music in his ears. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” he asked as he walked to the window and opened the curtains. “Yeah,” Hayan said as she kicked her blankets away. While Taehyung was ordering breakfast by calling the room service, Hayan took a quick shower. Once dry, the actress grabbed a green satin dress with a floral print. To complete her outfit, she put pink diamond earrings in her ear. When she was satisfied with the way she looked, the actress made her way to the living room.
“You kept those earrings from high school? How sweet,” Taehyung asked as a grin appeared on his face. “High school? How do you know that?” Hayan asked while she tried to remember when she ever told him about the earrings. “Yeah, don’t you remember? You told me about them when we were in the car on our way for your Harper's Bazaar shoot,” Taehyung told as he walked to her and stood in front of her. The actress raised her eyebrow. “I did?” Hayan asked while her mind replayed the memory of that day in her head. The only thing she can remember from that car ride was that it was quiet and awkward. “Yeah,” Taehyung as he chuckled. “You must have forgotten about it since you were so tired that day,” the dark-blond-haired man said as he gently wrapped a loose strand of black hair around his finger. Confusion was written all over Hayan’s face. She can clearly remember that day but she cannot recall the moment she mentioned the earring let alone talked about her high school days. “Don’t worry too much about it, the memory will come back again at some point,” Taehyung said while he carefully put the strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the pink diamond earring.
After having eaten breakfast, the two adults agreed to go to Art Gallery of Ontario. They walked next to each other while looking at the beautiful paintings. “Hayan look,” Taehyung called the actress as he stood next to a painting and imitated to comical facial expression of the woman on the painting. Hayan looked at him and laughed.
“Tell me something about this one,” Hayan asked when the man and woman stood in front of a painting of a woman. “This is called Portrait of a Lady with a Lap Dog and it is painted by the famous Dutch painter, Rembrandt van Rijn. Many people speculate that the woman in the painting is his daughter-in-law,” Taehyung lectured the actress about the painting. The way how the tall spoke about the painting felt like déjà vu to her. “You told me this before,” Hayan suddenly said as she tried to remember when Taehyung had ever told her about the painting. “Oh? When?” Taehyung asked as he looked confused at her. “A long time ago,” she said when she looked at him. Was the meeting in the hospital really our first encounterment? Hayan asked herself. “Silly how can I have told this long time ago when we have only known each other for a month?” Taehyung asked while he moved closer to her. “You are right. Sorry,” Hayan said as she shook her head. “Are you sure you had a good sleep?” the charming man asked while looking concerned at the actress.
“Yeah I did. I am sorry, I am not used to not working for this long,” the female performer expressed. That must be why I am having those weird thoughts, she told herself. “Hey, try to relax a bit,” Taehyung said as he put his large on her shoulder.
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On the evening before their departure, the adults were in the living room. Keeping each other entertained with strong liquor and jazz music. The living room had an aura of serenity.
“You’re lying,” Hayan said as she grabbed her glass of strong liquor and took a sip. The strong drink burned her throat. Drinking was something she rarely did but being in the present of Taehyung she felt safe. “Aw that’s sad, you deserve better,” the actress told to the dark-blond-haired man, who just told a sad story about his high school crush who rejected him. “What about you? Have you ever had a crush on someone in high school?” Taehyung while he moved closer to the coffee table and refilled his glass. “Uhm this might sound stupid but I can’t barely remember anything from high school. During my teenage years, I was so busy with acting. I had hardly any time to make friends and live like a normal teenager,” Hayan told her as she tried to dig up some memories from her high school days but everything was just one vague time for her. “Do you regret it? You know having to miss out on the chance to live like a normal teen?” Taehyung asked with full interest. “I am not sure if regret is the correct term to describe it…I guess we all have to sacrifice something for happiness,” Hayan said and took another sip of her drink. “Wise words for a cute girl,” Taehyung said. The two adults looked at each other and laughed.
While the alcohol slowly started to take over her mind, Hayan started to feel tired. Her vision became blurry while her head began to spin. The actress watched how Taehyung’s lips moved but none of his words entered her ears. Suddenly she felt a warm hand massaging her shoulder. “Are you alright?” the deep-voiced man asked as he moved closer to her and his hands roamed over her body. His touch felt safe and gentle. A soft moan escapes from her lips when she felt the thin strap of her top slide off her shoulder. Before Hayan could comprehend what was going on, she found herself straddled on Taehyung’s lap.
“Shall I tell you a secret?” the man asked as he grabbed the hem of her top and slowly lifted it up. “Mmm?” was the only response Hayan could give. “You have always been my favorite actress. You are more beautiful than Shin Hye or Hyun Joo and definitely far more talented than Ji Eun or Tae Hee,” Taehyung told her as he threw her top somewhere in the room. His jaw dropped when he looked at her topless body. He wrapped his arms around her and gently pressed kisses on her collar bones and in her neck. Mindlessly Hayan combed her finger through his thick hair. When Taehyung found her sensitive spot in her neck, she grabbed a handful of hair.
A moan escaped from her lips when Taehyung gently bit her sensitive spot. “I knew I had to have you when you played in Little Soah,” the dark-blond-haired said while he placed his hands under her thighs and stood up from the couch with the actress in his arms. Without thinking clearly, Hayan pulled him closer towards her and kissed him deeply.
Once the two adults were in Hayan’s bedroom, Taehyung gently put her on the bed and hastily he took off his clothes. While Hayan was in and out of consciousness, Taehyung crawled towards her and kissed her again.
High-pitched moans and deep grunts filled the luxurious hotel room while the moon shone its rays of light into the room when a soft breeze gently pushed the white curtains to the side.
With eyes filled with lust, the twenty-nine-year-old man watched how Hayan bit her lip when Taehyung slowly pushed his long fingers deep into her pussy. The way how her walls stretched around his fingers gave him goosebumps. Her warmth and wetness were enough to make him cum right then and there, but he pushed his urges to the side and focused on the naked actress underneath him.
As a teenager, Taehyung used to fantasize about how it would feel to be inside his favourite actress. So many nights he spent wondering about what she would taste like. Every time Taehyung watched porn, all he could think about was what it would feel like to try out those positions with her. Would she enjoy riding him or did she prefer to get it from behind? But now that he finally has her in his hands, Taehyung was looking forward to turning his fantasies into reality.
Hayan let out a scream when she felt something wet touching her clit. She raised her head and looked down to see what caused her to feel this sudden tingling between her legs. Her cheeks reddened when she was met with the sight of Taehyung’s face between her legs. Just when Hayan parted her red lips to say something, Taehyung trapped her clit between his lips and started sucking. The moans that came from her lips sounded like music in Taehyung’s ears.
The young actress bit her lower lip while she tried to hold in her moan but failed to do so. A whiny moan echoed in the room while Taehyung curled his fingers. The way how Hayan frowned gave away that she was so close to climaxing. Taehyung smirked and decided to give her an extra push to reach her climax. While his long fingers went deeper in her, his tongue flicked her clit. His tongue movements were fast and hard while his fingers quickened its pace.
Hayan curled her toes and let out another high-pitched moan when she hit her climax. Amused and prideful, Taehyung watched how Hayan drowned in pleasure. She looked so beautiful when she came. Taehyung slowed down his pace and helped Hayan ride out her climax.
Hayan closed her eyes while she slowly came back from her high. Taehyung licked his fingers, she tasted so sweet. His fantasies are nothing compared to reality. Once his fingers were clean he moved closer to her and pressed gentle kisses on her cheek while his arm snaked around her waist and held her tightly. Being skin-to-skin was enough for him to become horny again. He wanted his dick in her mouth. He wanted to decorate her walls with his cum. But seeing how his favourite actress was slowly drifting into sleep, he suppressed his desires.
Now that we are finally together, we have all the time in world to get to know each other better, Taehyung thought to himself while he gently grabbed her chin with his thumb and index finger. Slowly he turned her head towards him. Their faces were close to each other that their noses were touching. Tenderly Taehyung pressed his lips against hers.
“Don’t worry Hayanie, manager Kim will take care of you.”
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The tantalizing aroma of cooking onions and garlic in a pan wafted in Taehyung’s kitchen while he carefully moved the two ingredients around in the pan.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” a gentle voiced asked him. He looked over his shoulder and saw his favorite actress standing in his kitchen. “I am very sure. Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung said as he brought his attention back to the pan and added the cut vegetables into the hot pan. “Alright, if you need anything then let me know,” Hayan said as she walked back to the living room.
When she sat on the couch, the actress looked around. The living room had a cozy vibe. The colors warm toned made her feel comfortable while a few expensive looking paintings caught her attention. Even though it was her first time being at Taehyung’s place, somewhat the place felt familiar to her. As if she had been here before. She was not sure why she had that feeling. Maybe it was because the living room was organized like the typical rich people way.
“Dinner is ready,” Taehyung said from the kitchen. Hayan put a book down and stood up from the couch. “It smells amazing,” the actress said when she sat at the dining table and looked at the food on her plate. “Thanks, hopefully it tastes as good as it smells,” the tall man said as he sat next to her. “Is life fun when you are twenty-nine-year-old?” Hayan asked when she picked some noodles with her chopsticks. “It’s so fun, you will have the best time of your life,” Taehyung said sarcastically. The man’s response made the actress laugh. “29 really sounds old,” the female performer teased while she looked at the dark-blond-haired man. “At least you won’t be turning thirty later in the year,” Taehyung said and looked at Hayan. The woman laughed: “Well in that case, I will make sure 29 will be my best year,”.
When the two adults finished their meals, they decided to do the dishes together. “I cannot wait to see your reaction when you get your birthday gift,” Taehyung said teasingly. All day long, the man had been reminding the actress that he had a special gift for her without dropping any hints. Hayan sighed annoyed. “If you are not going to say what it is, then don’t mention it,” she said while she dried the wet plate with a kitchen towel. “Why? Is someone getting excited about it?” Taehyung asked as he splashed some of the water to her. “Hey!” Hayan giggled and threw the wet kitchen towel to the tall man. “I am done doing the dishes,” she said while stepping away from him. The man chuckled at her cute action. After all these you are still the same cute girl, he thought to himself.
“Alright close your eyes,” Taehyung said as he held a box behind him. Hayan gave him a suspicious look but still followed his instruction. Carefully Taehyung put the box in front of the actress and carefully took out the creature. “Open your eyes,” the deep-voiced man said as he held the creature in front of her. When Hayan opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of a tiny Pomeranian. Her big eyes got bigger as she stared surprised at the tiny dog. “Happy birthday Hayan,” Taehyung said as he carefully placed the puppy on her lap. Attentively Hayan lifted the little black fluffy dog and look at it. “It’s a boy,” Taehyung informed the actress as he watched her observe the puppy.
“Taehyung, I am speechless. I don’t know what to say,” the actress confessed while she put the puppy in her arms and hugged it. “Luckily, you told me that you liked Pomeranians otherwise I had no idea which breed I had to choose,” Taehyung told her. “Have we ever talked about dogs?” Hayan asked confused as she put the puppy down, giving it some space to walk around. “Yeah,” was Taehyung response. You told it to me a while ago, he thought to himself as he watched her play with the dog. “Do you have a name for him?” Hayan’s manager asked when the black puppy ran towards to the man and jumped on his lap. “Maybe Yeontan?” Hayan said while looking at the dog. “What a cute name,” Taehyung said.
The adults played with Yeontan while they talked about random topics. Hayan did not know how to express her happiness. She looked Taehyung, who was playing with Yeontan, and felt a strange feeling in her stomach. Hayan had no idea who to describe the feeling but it felt pleasant. Is this what they mean with butterflies in your stomach? The actress questioned herself. Whatever you called this feeling, Hayan would not mind feeling that sensation in her stomach again.
“Oh no,” Hayan said as she watched Yeontan pee on the ground. “Tannie,” Taehyung sighed while walking towards the tiny dog. Yeontan knew he was in trouble so began to tremble, wondering what his owner would do. “It alright, puppies do that all the time,” Hayan said while she carefully picked up the dog and planted a few kisses on his head. “Here, hold him while I go grab a cloth,” the actress said while she gently pushes Yeontan in Taehyung’s arms. Before Taehyung could respond, Hayan had already turned around and left the room.
The black-haired woman walked through the halls of Taehyung’s mansion, trying to find the nearest bathroom. The young performer halted her tracks when a bright blue door caught her attention. That must be the bathroom, Hayan thought to herself. Carefully she pressed down the door handle and pushed the door open. When the actress was inside the room, she started to get shivers. It was not a bathroom but a bedroom. The room was big but neat. The walls were burgundy while the furniture was dark brown. The golden decorations made the room look expensive. There was a strange vibe in the room. Goose bump appeared on her arms as she slowly walked further into the room. The room felt familiar to her, she swore that she had been here before. While the twenty-nine-year-old woman walked closer to the bed, her mind dug deeper into her brain. When Hayan stood in front of the bed, she looked at the red velvet blanket. With trembling fingers, she reached out for the blanket. When her cold fingers touched the soft fabric, her mind unlocked a memory.
“I remember,” Hayan whispered to herself.
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“Let’s talk here,” a nineteen-year-old boy said as he pushed the blue door open and looked at the eighteen-year-old girl. The way how she fiddled the hem of her skirt with her thin fingers it was clear that she was nervous. “Taehyung I already said what I had to say at school,” Hayan said as she looked into the big eyes of the boy. “It won’t take too long. Please listen to what I have to say,” Taehyung pleaded while he pouted like a puppy. Her mind told her to reject his invitation and to return to Jisoo but her heart convinced her to give Taehyung a chance. So she nodded and entered the spare bedroom.
When Taehyung closed to bedroom door behind him, he took off his blazer and moved closer to the girl. “I want to apologize for my rude remarks,” the boy said as he ran his long fingers through his thick long hair. Hayan did not like the atmosphere in the room, it felt unsafe. “Apology accepted. I also want to apologize for hurting you by rejecting your confession but I really cannot accept it,” the young starlet said without realizing that her words triggered the boy’s anger. Taehyung’s hands turned into a fist while his mind reminded him of the humiliating event that happened a few days ago. “It’s alright, but can I ask you something?” Taehyung asked as he swallowed his anger away. Hayan nodded as Taehyung reminded himself to calm down. “Would you want to give it a try after you are done shooting the drama?” the long black-haired boy asked. There was a silence between the adolescents.
Kan Hayan loved Kim Taehyung. There was no denying in that. He caught her attention the moment she entered the classroom for the first time three years ago. It was not a surprise why all the girls in school had a crush on him. He was an Adonis. She could stare at him for hours doing nothing and still she would feel fulfilled. She liked his personality. Unlike other rich teenagers, he was kind and well-mannered. A real gentleman stuck in a teenager’s body. When the rumor of Taehyung having a crush on Hayan made its way around school and eventually reached the actress, she did not believe it. How could to the eldest son of the Kim family fall for a young girl who aspired to be an actress?
Hayan’s heart told her to accept his confession but her brain quickly interfered and reminded the young starlet that she cannot be in a relationship. She needed to focus on her acting career. “I am sorry Taehyung but currently I want to focus on my acting career,” Hayan told the tall boy. His long black hair covered his eyes. The girl was not able to see the anger and disappointment in the boy’s eyes. “You like Hoseok, don’t you?” Taehyung asked angrily while the memory of Hayan and Hoseok in the park flashed in front of him. “No, there’s nothing between us,” Hayan explained. The anger in black-haired boy’s voice scared the eighteen-year-old girl.
Suddenly Taehyung grabbed Hayan by her arms and pushed her on the bed. Roughly she landed on the red velvet blanket. The tall boy jumped on her and grabbed her wrists. “Taehyung!” Hayan shouted as he pinned her wrists above her head. The black-haired boy held her down with one hand while his other hand aggressively ripped her shirt open. The view of her bra made his mouth water. He waited for so long to have her underneath him. A scream escaped from the girl’s mouth while she tried to break free from his tight grip. Growing tired of her struggle, Taehyung untied his Gucci scarf and tied her wrists to the bed.
Just when Hayan opened her mouth to scream for help, Taehyung bend down and placed his lips on hers. Her lips were soft, just like how he imagined. Hayan immediately closed her lips, refusing to let Taehyung enter her mouth. Like python, Taehyung’s long fingers wrapped around her neck and slowly his grip got tighter. His lips moved from her lips to her ear. “Did you really think I would not notice how you giggled at Hoseok’s jokes?” Taehyung’s hot air caressed Hayan’s ear while she tried to kick him off her. “Taehyung please stop,” Hayan sobbed as tears escaped from her eyes. Aggressively Taehyung placed his lips on hers and forced his tongue into her mouth. He moaned in her when his tongue meets hers. The way how Hayan’s tongue tried to push Taehyung’s tongue out of her mouth, turned Taehyung on. He tightened his grip around her neck as he kissed her deeper. Hayan attempted to kick him as she tried to catch her breath.
By the time Taehyung was done kissing her, Hayan had become tired from all the struggling and lack of oxygen. With a smirk on his face, Taehyung tore her bra. “Baby,” he groaned as he looked at her breasts. They were perfect. They were perfectly round and perky. Taehyung could not wait anymore, he let go of her neck and grabbed her breasts. They fitted perfectly in his hands. He roughly fondled it while he trapped a pink nipple from the other breast in his mouth. He sucked it, licked it, bit it. When he was done with it, he moved back and smiled proudly how the once pink nipple is red now.
“HELP!” Hayan screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that someone would hear it. “Baby I need you to be quiet,” Taehyung said as he sat on her hips. “I beg you, please stop. If you let me go, I will stay away from you. I promise I will never tell this to anyone,” Hayan sobbed as tears ran down her cheeks. Her body started to tremble out of fear. The idea of what Taehyung wanted to do to her scared her. “I want you to be with me. I want you to be mine, Hayanie,” Taehyung said as he hands traveled down her body and stopped when his long fingers came in contact with her skirt. The way how her nickname rolled off his tongue made her nauseous. Another scream came out of her mouth when the black-haired boy pulled her skirt down. “Shut up!” Taehyung said as he looked at her and spat at her. The spit landed on her cheek. The idea of how her tear got mixed with his spit, made Taehyung hard. Without wasting too much time, the tall boy grabbed a pillow and placed it on the starlet’s face.
Taehyung licked his lips as he pulled down her underwear. The view of her pussy made him salivate. He planted gentle kisses on her stomach as he roughly pushed her legs apart. Taehyung collected some spit and spat it on her clit. Gently he rubbed it as he watched how his spit dripped down from her clit. He licked her clit. Suck it. Bit it. Slapped it. Pinched it. While Taehyung was playing with her clit, Hayan was trying her best to fill her lungs with air. When the eighteen-year-old heard Taehyung unzipping his pants, she started to panic.
Taehyung positioned himself between her legs. “I love you so much,” Taehyung said as he pushed himself into her cunt. The pain halted Hayan’s struggle. It felt like the world had stopped turning and everything became muted. The black-haired boy pulled himself back just to slam back inside the scared girl. While the sound of smacking of skin-on-skin echoed through the room, Hayan’s brain send multiple signals. It wanted Hayan to scream louder, to tug her wrists harder to break free, to raise her knees to kick him off. But none of the signals got received, her body was frozen.
The way how her walls clenched around his length made Taehyung moan. He drowned in a wave of pleasure when he pushed himself deeper, he could feel his length rubbing against her cervix. Feeling him hit her cervix hurt Hayan but her body showed no reaction. Taehyung removed the pillow from Hayan and kissed her roughly on the lips. His thrusts were fast and deep while his tongue gently and carefully explored her mouth. Ecstasy rushed through him as he felt his climax coming closer and closer. Taehyung’s grabbed her hips tightly as he slammed harder.
He felt euphoric when he covered her walls with cum. He looked through his bangs and watched how Hayan closed her eyes. Gently he kisses her tears away as he slowed his movements.
Once Hayan was untied, her body unfroze. She was in a lot of pain while Taehyung’s touch still lingered on her skin. She felt dirty, ashamed, and weak. So many thoughts went through her mind but it was impossible to get them in control. When the boy grabbed his shirt, Hayan got up and quickly collected her stuff. Taehyung sat on the bed and watched how Hayan limped hastily out of the room. “I will wait for you,” he quickly said to her.
“Mom!” the eighteen-year-old shouted as she slammed the door behind her. “Mom!!” Hayan sobbed as she walked to the living room. Every step she took, a wave of pain went through her body. “Hayan,” her mother said concerned as she looked at her distraught daughter. She looked like a mess. Her once neatly bun was not nothing but a mess, her shirt had a few rips. Her body was trembling uncontrollably while blood dripped down her thighs.
“What happened?” Hayan’s mother asked as she walked closer to her daughter and grabbed her cold hands. “Ta- Tae-…Taehyung di-did thi-this.ss..” the young starlet pushed those words out of her mouth with the little bit of strength she had. “Ca- call th-the po- pol- ice,” Hayan said while she held her mother’s hands tightly. She feared if she let go of her mother’s hands then she might breakdown. There was a silence between the mother and daughter. Hayan wondered why her mother did not give any reaction. Slowly her mother shook her head.
“No…We can’t,” Hayan’s mother said as she pulled her hands back. The movement was so simple yet it was strong enough to shatter the eighteen-year-old’s fragile heart. “Wh- Why?” Hayan asked when she looked at her mother’s face. All the concerns her mother had on her face was now vanished. There was no emotion. “Hayan, I know this hard but you will get through it,” her mother spoke as the sun set behind her. The young girl noticed that her mother had no halo. “All you have to do is to never think about it,” Hayan’s mother said she slowly approached her daughter. Terrified, Hayan took a few steps back. When she felt the wall against her back, she felt trapped. “Bu- but he hu- hurt m- me,” the starlet said. Hayan’s mother cupped her face with her hands. “If you continue to focus on acting and don’t ever think about it. Then you will be fine. Trust me,” her mother told her. Hayan was not sure whether her mother tried to convince her daughter that this is the best method or herself.
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With a trembling hand, Hayan grabbed the red velvet blanket and lifted it up. The sight of dried blood on the bed sheets made her stomach turn. The memory kept replying in her head over and over again while tears escaped from her eyes. Is this real? Is this why she had a hard time remembering her high school years?
“Hayan…” a deep male voice interrupted the silence in the room. Slowly she looked over her shoulder and looked at the man who took her innocence. “Why?” the actress asked as she turned around and looked at him. “Because I love you. I have always loved you,” Taehyung said matter-of-factly while he stepped closer to her. “The first time I saw you on the tv screen, I knew I had to have you. We belong together, Hayanie,” everything was overwhelming for the actress. She had so many questions to ask, so many curse words she wanted to throw at the man.
Hayan looked up and suddenly noticed something. A few strands of Taehyung’s hair were red. The same kind of red that the stranger from the park had. “How did you get passed through the security?” the actress asked as her mind replayed the scene. A smirk appeared on the man’s face. “It’s crazy how many possibilities someone can have when your sisters are celebrities,” Taehyung asked.
When everything fell into place, Hayan dropped on her knees. “You planned all of this, didn’t you?” the actress sobbed. “You should be happy with the fact I gave you ten years to recover from that night,” Taehyung said with pride. “I was hurting too, darling. Do you know how much it hurts to stay away from you for ten whole years?” the tall man asked when he kneeled in front of her and wiped her tears away. Angrily Hayan slapped his hand away.
Just when Hayan stood up and got ready to run away from her nightmare, Taehyung quickly grabbed her by the arms and threw her on the bed. “Don’t make me mad, baby,” the man warned the woman while he grabbed a handkerchief. “Get away from me!” Hayan cried out loud while she tried to push him away. Taehyung got tired of her struggles. A painful slap landed on Hayan’s cheek. The sudden action halted her fight. “If you had accepted my love back then. You would not be here right now,” Taehyung said with anger in voice. While the man grabbed a bottle and wetted the handkerchief, the memories of the painful rejected replayed in his mind. It made him mad. “You are insane!” Hayan yelled as she tried to hit him, hoping it would him distract him enough for her to escape from his hold. “Oh baby, you have no idea how many boundaries I am willing to break just for you,” Taehyung told her and put the wet cloth on her face.
“You might be the doll but I am the puppeteer,” Taehyung whispered in her ear and pressed the chloroform-soaked cloth harder on her face while Hayan fought to stay awake.
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Epilogue:
“And for our final news,” a short-haired news anchor said while she moved a piece of paper to the left and instantaneously glanced at the last page. In matter of seconds she absorbed the information about the new topic.
“Actress Kan Hayan has announced her retirement this morning,” the female news anchor announced as she looked into the camera. “The sudden news has the nation not only shocked but also confused as earlier this week there were rumors that Kan Hayan might be starring in Bong Joon Ho’s newest movie,”
“The news was announced on the actress’ Instagram. It said the following:
‘Hello, this Kan Hayan.
I am writing this as my final greeting to you all.
At a tender age of five years, I started my acting career and ever since then I have been in front of cameras more than anyone can imagine. During the course of my career, I have met amazing people and worked with numerous talented directors. It was truly a one-of-a-kind experience and I will never forget it.
I truly want to thank everyone for the interest and love you have shown me, it was because of you I was able to turn my dreams into a long successful career.
I wish everyone a healthy and happy life. I love you.’”
“Three month ago, the actress revealed that she will be taking a break from acting to recharge. Her announcement of her break came to a surprise to her fans but nonetheless they accepted her decision. Kan Hayan has been acting since the age of five and during her career she has played numerous famous movies and dramas. Her management agency, RM Entertainment, revealed that they were unaware of the announcement but they respect her decision. ”
“There have been some rumors flying around about the actress possibly dating someone but nothing is confirmed,”
Kim Taehyung yawned and turned off the television. He looked down and was greeted with the beautiful scene of Hayan sleeping on his chest. “I am looking forward to the days of us,” Taehyung whispered as his hand moved down.
“I will take care of you,” he said and planted a gentle kiss on her head while his hand caressed Hayan’s baby bump.
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tf2-hellhole · 4 years
Note
You know, I’ve seen quite a lot of love for curvy people (which is amazing, never stop) but I haven’t seen much for the sticks in this world. How would the mercs react to having a tall gangly S/O with self-image issues?
Scout:
He assures you that your body is absolutely perfect. He probably says something along the lines of “I mean, look at me. I’m a stick too! Other than the sexy muscles, I guess.”
He’s not the best at providing encouragement or comfort since it’s hard for him to get himself out of the macho mindset, but he certainly tries his best.
Whenever you say something degrading about your body or express doubt in your looks, he just quiets you with a big smooch and tells you that you look amazing.
Solly:
Honestly thinks that you being tall is kinda hot, and he’s not afraid to say it.
When he learns of how you feel about your body, he is determined as hell to show you how gorgeous he knows you are. He’s highly that type that looks at you like you’re a goddess and rarely sees any flaws in you or your actions; and he certainly doesn’t see your build or height as a flaw.
Provides as much support and love as he can to show how much he cares, even though he has some strange methods of going about it.
Pyro:
They are so sweet about trying to make you feel better about your body. The first time you tell them, they throw their arms around you and tell you how perfect you are, and you know they’re serious because they’re looking up at you in awe like a lovestruck puppy.
They love showing their appreciation of your body by always pulling you into those tight hugs and smothering you in kisses. They also love affectionately running their hands over your arms, shoulders, and sides when you two cuddle. They never mean to do it in a nasty way, though; it’s just their way of showing their appreciation.
Demo:
When you tell him how you feel about your body, he smiles and calmly assures you that he thinks you’re gorgeous, then pulls you close for a big kiss to show you that he’s serious.
He thinks it’s better for him to not make a big deal out of it, but that doesn’t stop him from showing his support and adoration for you. He always tells you that you look great, especially if you’re in a new and/or fancy outfit and always accompanies his compliments with a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek, forehead, or lips. He also tends to give you lots of soft touches.
Heavy:
He honestly thinks you being in a relationship with him is kinda funny; here’s this huge, muscular, 6’3”, 400-something man with his skinnier partner who’s MUCH smaller than him.
When you tell him how you’re feeling, he holds you gently and assures you that you are perfect as is, and probably makes a point about how unrealistic body standards are because he’s struggled with them himself.
He shows most of his support verbally or through soft touches cause honestly he’s afraid of hurting you with a big bear hug.
Engie:
He feels so bad when you tell him about your self-image. He stands you in front of a mirror and tells you how absolutely gorgeous you are, cuddling you closely while he describes what he loves about you.
Makes a joke along the lines of “At least you’re not short and fat,” which probably leads to you having a conversation with him about his own self-image.
He loooves pampering you/giving you affection to prove what he thinks of your body. He mainly shows it through physical affection; he loves gently putting his hands on your hips, waist, or arms when cuddling.
Medic:
He insists that every body is different; some are long and thin, some are short and thick, and some are a bunch of other things, so you shouldn’t feel bad about yours. Besides, in his opinion, its a very perfect body. You can’t help but laugh as he talks to you; he has a way of saying the sweetest things but sounding like an asshole when he says it since he has such a hard time being sincere.
He honestly adores your body and he makes sure he shows it. The main way he does it is by bringing you all sorts of cute clothing, and is good at guessing what fits on you well.
Sniper:
Sniper is obviously the same way; he has a very tall, lanky body. He often makes jokes about it. But he has a funny way of thinking that his body type makes him look ugly and awkward, but he thinks you, with a similar body type, are perfect.
It ends up with both of you trying to help the other feel better about your bodies. It does make you both feel better to know that the other understands exactly how they feel.
When you two cuddle, you definitely wrap your limbs around each other,  and Sniper absolutely loves it.
Spy:
Spy isn’t particularly tall, but he knows he has skinny limbs and he is a little self-conscious about it, but he will literally never tell you that.
Like Medic, he’s the type to buy you all sorts of nice clothing, but what Spy buys you will be much more expensive. He always makes sure the clothes show off your body type and are often custom-tailored to fit you perfectly.
Don’t tell anyone, but like Soldier, he has a thing for taller people, so he doesn’t complain about your height at all, even if you’re actually taller than him.
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Text
Sinful Fuck
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My Masterlist ✨
Requests are open.
Word Count: 2,4k
Type: smut
Summary: you and Ransom have a son. One evening they’re both hungry -of different things-; how can you feed both at the same time?
 Warning(s): NFSW, +18, swearing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking
You were reading a book, finally enjoying a couple of hours of peace, when you heard a loud and desperate cry coming for upstairs. You panted and ran in your son’s bedroom, picking him up from his crib and bringing him close to your chest.
“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask him, even if you know he isn’t able of doing it yet, “What do you want?” you saw his tiny hands aiming at your breasts and you immediately got why he had gotten up.
You smiled and hold him closer while you climbed downstairs, you dragged his stroller next to the couch, where you sat down and uncovered your left breast, letting your baby boy taking your left nipple between his lips and sucking it, “Calm down, mini Ransom”, you called him like that only when he behaved like his father and, at that moment, he was acting possessive and craving just like his father.
Sometimes you wondered how you managed to marry Ransom Drysdale. When you had met him, he was the asshole Ransom Drysdale everyone knew, but as time went by, he had become a better version of himself and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him every day more. He had proposed at Christmas two years before and in a matter of months you were wearing a wedding band next to your engagement diamond. Then you got pregnant and there you were, taking care of your son while Ransom was running the best-to-be company in Massachusetts.
You rubbed your thumb on his little forehead while you saw him becoming red as he sucked harder on your nipple. You flinched when he pressed his gums together in order to get more milk from you. You adjusted the position of your breast and gave it back to him.
“I’m home!”
You heard Ransom roughly closing the front door and his heavy steps coming closer to the two of you. When he showed himself to you, his eyebrows were furrowed, his lips tightened in a line and his jaw clenched, “Honey, are you alright?”
“Clearly, I’m not!” he sat down on the armchair in front of you and took his boots off, “I had a terrible day at work. all the people I work with are stupid idiots!”
“Hey, can you keep it low? I’m trying to put him to sleep”, you slowly removed your nipple from his lips and, with the help of your other arm, you re-dressed, “Also, can you go to the grocery store? I need-“
“Seriously? I’m telling you that I’ve had a shitty day at work and what do you do? You tell me to do shopping?” Ransom threw his phone on the coffee table standing in-between the two of you, before your husband moved it away.
“Hon, what are you doing?”
He tossed his sweater to the floor and brought your legs up on the couch, “I’m fucking you”, he replied calmly. The short and large dress you were wearing helped him reaching for his target: your pussy. He undressed you from your panties and threw them behind your back -most probably in the kitchen.
“Wait- Are you fucking me with Jay in my arms? That’s-“ you stopped, you didn’t have a word to describe what he was thinking of doing, “That’s sinful”, you managed to say, firmly holding your little boy in your arms.
“That’s sinful, right. But you weren’t complaining when I was fucking you with your wedding dress on, with all our guests waiting for us. Or the thousands of times you would suck my dick ‘cause you were willing to during your pregnancy”, while talking he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, “I’ll tell you what’s really sinful from you: you enjoying me covering your round belly in cum when you were pregnant”, he got rid of his trousers, standing in front of you with only his underwear on. Through the thin fabric of his boxers, you could state how hard he already was and, for the hundreds of times you had seen it, you could picture the reddish tip of him, begging for some attention from you, “Now, tell me, how do you think we’ve conceived this little man? Praying? Oh, you’ve been on your knees, but for sure you weren’t begging God-“
You stopped him here. All the dirty talk he was doing made you very needy -not that it was a problem standing in the same room of Ransom- and your clit was throbbing, though your husband hadn’t still touched you, “If he cries, you stop”.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You made more room for him, spreading your legs even more open and you saw him lowering a bit before lining up with your entrance. Ransom rubbed the tip of his length between your folds, testing your wetness, and then started playing with his fingers, “R-ransom-“ your moaned, desperately trying not to cry out -as you were usual doing.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he had that smirk on his face, the one you hated in the bedroom, “What’s wrong?”
You knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. You closed your eyes and threw your head back; you tightened your grip around James’ little body with one hand while the other one went to Ransom’s bicep.
He kept teasing you, by gently caressing and then stinging your folds. Ransom knew you were about to cry out when he saw you holding back a scream, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”
You breathed in and out slowly, “Hugh Ransom Drysdale if you don’t put your cock inside me and start fucking me, you’ll sleep on the couch for a week. At least”, you said, sticking your nails into his shoulder.
“That’s what I thought”, he slid the tip of his hardening cock against your warm and soaked core, “Always so wet for me”, your husband brought two fingers to your mouth and let you wrap your tongue around them, so that they would be wet enough when he slipped them inside your channel.
You flinched and let out a moan, “P-please, Ransom”, you wrapped your arm around his underarm and squeezed it, “No games. I need this, I need to feel you”.
Your husband -you really liked calling him that way- hit your soft spot with his middle finger, making you see stars, “You’ll feel me for days, after tonight. This little bean better sleep all night long, I have plans on knock you up…again”, he removed his fingers and soon replaced them with his thick and hard cock.
“Fuuck”, you wide-opened your eyes and watched as Ransom pulled himself out of you, only to thrust into your pussy harder than before, “I missed this”.
“What? How good I fuck you or…uh, you’ve always been so thigh”, Ransom increased his pace and every time he made sure to hit every single angle of your channel. When you felt him hitting your cervix, the knot in your stomach grew bigger and it was a matter of second before you came with a chocked cry. “Yes, fuck, I knew it was there. Now it’s my turn”, he smirked and came closer to you, “Hold on, baby”, then glanced at your child still in your arms, “And also him”. His hands grasped the seatback and he started pounding into you with inhuman pace.
After James was born, Ransom and you had never had a moment alone and, if you had, it was quickly interrupted by his mother, or his grandfather, or James’ crying. That was the reason why he was fucking you like it was the last time, giving all of him, releasing all the stress he had been accumulated in the last period. And, damn, you really hoped he could save something for later.
“Fuck”, you whispered, closing your eyes and resting your head on you child’s, “Too much, Ransom”, you felt so overwhelmed with pleasure that you almost didn’t acknowledge the second wave of pleasure hitting you right away. Your mouth involuntary opened in a ‘o’ and slowly let out a deep breath. Your chest raised up and down rhythmically as you tried to calm yourself down.
“Oh, baby”, one second after you felt hot spurts of cum being released into your channel and Ransom didn’t come out until he had recovered his breath, “Damn, you look so beautiful. Have I ever told you how stunning you look in your post-orgasm?”
If there was something about Ransom that you would have never changed was his dirty talking. He would make you cum only doing his talking and you were certain he would experience that, in a more relaxed moment. Maybe as a foreplay, before fucking you stupid -you thought.
“Hey, give him to me”, your husband stretched his arms out and took your baby from your hands, before pulling out of you and place him in his carriage, “He’s peacefully sleeping. This means I can force another orgasm out of you”, he playfully spalled your ass cheeks and motioned you to get up.
Right when you were about to smarten yourself up, Ransom took your wrists in his big hand, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What?” you asked, totally unconscious of what his plans for you were, “I thought-“
“Nope. You don’t think. You do as I say”, he pushed your dress down and, helping himself with his foot, he tossed it near to the armchair’s base, “Kitchen, now”, he used his don’t-fuck-with-me tone and it made your core clench.
As if you were still a teenager, you rushed in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, waiting for your husband to join you, “What do you want me to do, daddy?”
The first time you had called him like that was right after realizing you were expecting a child from him; you came up with that ‘nickname’ thinking it was funny, but in the bedroom, it was everything but funny. Calling him ‘daddy’ had woken up some primordial instincts which you were glad you were the only one able to satisfy them.
“Oh”, Ransom caressed you cheek, “By the time I will be done with you, you’ll be so sore and your pussy will ache so much that you won’t be able to take our son into your arms”, Ransom grabbed a stool and sat down, not before getting rid of his trousers and underwear.
He was naked and ready for round two, a sight which gave you goosebumps. His thick and erect cock moving as he approached you got you soaked.
“Turn.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle and do as he’d ordered. You knew the rules: you couldn’t look behind, so your eyes were set in front of you, while your hands were tightened around the edge of the sink. Ransom put pressure at the base of your spine, making you bend over the counter and you shivered when your nipples met the cold marble surface.
“What’s wrong, mummy?” he caressed both your sides and placed you perfectly between his legs; one movement and you would feel the tip of his cock at your entrance, “Is it cold?”
You mumbled in response and tilted your head back when Ransom grabbed a bunch of your hair and made you arch your back.
“Poor baby”, he made sure you were to take him once again and deepened his grasp around your waist. You were sure bruises would have surfaced in the morning, yet you didn’t care until Ransom would feel you good. “Are you ready?”
Again, you mumbled a ‘yes’, and became breathless when you felt Ransom’s thick and long cock making his way inside you. The moans escaping from your mouth were almost pornographic -fortunately James was still asleep.
You loved everything about that position; Ransom would have easy access to each spot of yours, he would hit every single spot that made you moan. You would welcome his entire length in your channel, allowing his cock to hit your cervix every now and then. And, what you loved the most, you liked that position because he would spank you. His big, callous hands would reach your ass cheeks and leave signs that he had been there, and you loved the vibration, which would go straight to your clit.
“I should record you next time”, Ransom began slowly -as was usual for him-, moving your hips on his lap with circular movements, “Do you remember what they said in the hospital? ‘He’s so cute’”, he bit your shoulder and forced your head down by putting a hand on it, “If only they knew how good I fucked you at our wedding. You were so hot that day”, you were surprised by his thumb wandering on your spine, which stopped before your arsehole, “Dressed in white. As if you were a virgin, but you’re not. How many times had I fucked you stupid before that day?”
His question urged a reply and you were too lost to give it to him, yet he did want an answer form you. Ransom knew every weak point of yours, he knew that if he stopped moving, your high would fade away and he would come before you, ruining your own orgasm. So he did it, he stopped and impaled you, “I’ve asked you a question. How many times?”
You gasped in search of air, yet you managed to give him his answer, “A lot, daddy. A lot”, you arched your back as you felt your walls clenching around him, “Please, make me cum”.
“As you wish, mommy”, he kicked the stool to a side and quickly and deeply thrusted into you, “C’mon, girl. Cum”, he wasn’t asking, he was ordering it and you satisfied him, stretching him and holding him into you until he came too, leaving all his seed inside you. “I love you so much”, he kissed the entire length of your spine up to your neck, then turned you around, “My life would me miserable without you”.
Ransom always acted like an asshole, but he wasn’t; with you he had always been the caring and sweet Ransom, your husband and father on your son.
“I love you too, hon”, you kissed him and let him embrace you and take to your bedroom. As soon as he laid you down on the soft mattress, you asked: “Can you keep an eye on Jay? I would really like to sleep”.
“Sleep, I’ll take care of him”, Ransom left a kiss on your forehead and made sure you were already sleeping when he left the room. Once in the living room he checked on your son and sat down on the couch, right next to his carriage, “Sorry, pal. I know, that wasn’t respectful. But we gotta work on your little sister, or brother”, then he grabbed the newspaper and read about how the Patriots were training for their match in the weekend.
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lesetoilesfous · 3 years
Note
For DWC: "These chains never leave me, I keep dragging them around" from the Florence prompt list for Anders/Fenris?
Ah I had so much fun with this, thank you! I hope I did it justice!!
(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)
@dadrunkwriting​
Pairing: Fenders
Characters: Fenris, Anders
Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical graphic depictions of violence, Anders was right, anti-chantry, graphic reference to infanticide, Tevinter is awful, graphic reference to abortion, oblique reference to sexual assault, self-hatred, mention of self-harm, suicidal ideation. Basically post-Danarius, and all that entails. Characters dealing with trauma, PTSD and survivor’s guilt.
Rating: Mature
It’s been one week, two days and three hours since Fenris killed Danarius. He is sitting with Hawke and her friends in her mansion, because he had not been able to conceal his discomfort when they’d visited The Hanged Man, unable to remove from his recent memory the stain of blood on the floorboards and the sting of his sister’s betrayal. Corff had, at least, worked a miracle with the former. As far as the latter was concerned - Fenris did not think that Isabela was the only one who’d noticed him startling in the Lowtown crowd at the sight of every redheaded elf. The trait was, blessedly, a rare one. There was that, at least.
In the beautiful marble fireplace, Hawke’s fire roars loud and red, crackling with heat that licks gold light over the sandy, muscular back of her mabari, half asleep on the wine purple rug laid over the stone. Sandal is humming somewhere in one of the rooms nearby, and occasionally, under the loud sound of Hawke’s voice and her companions’ laughter, Fenris can make out the soft sound of Bodahn talking to his son. Orana, of course, is inaudible. She knows better. 
Fenris bites the inside of his cheek, hard, and drinks deeply from his cup. The wine in it is thick and rich and velvet. Fenris can feel Marian’s eyes on him, but he can also see, from the corner of his eye, the way that her muscular arm is looped casually around Isabela’s shoulders. As he lowers his cup, he catches the way that Isabela tilts her head back, thick black hair falling over Marian’s tunic as she brushes her lips against her ear. He can see the way Marian flushes. 
Fenris gets to his feet, and by the fireplace Dog raises her great sandy head. He gives her a small, calming gesture, and next to the low table onto which they’ve scattered their cards, Marian frowns at him. “Fenris?”
Fenris motions vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “I need some water.” He tries to ignore the eyes of his companions on him as he goes. Instead, he leaves the warm, firelit parlour and walks into the cold, empty rooms not baked gold by fireplaces. Fenris feels his shoulders lower as soon as he gets to the second room, standing in the grey and black dusty shadow of an utterly deserted music room. Through the narrow stone windows of the Amell Estate, he can see the deep black sky of Kirkwall, scattered with stars. Houses fall like broken marble down towards the sea, which crashes with a distant roar against the cliffs. At the edge of the horizon, moonlight races silver across the waves. Fenris stares at it, and thinks about being a younger man, on an island, thinking that it would be the last thing he ever saw.
“Nice view, isn’t it?”
Fenris whirls on instinct, limbs moving with muscle memory as the lyrium sewn into his skin sets his nerve endings on fire and he plunges his hand into the intruder’s chest. In the dark, Anders’ blonde hair is grey and silver. If he’s bothered by the pain about which Fenris’ victims had so often complained to him before their grisly demise, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he raises his eyebrows at Fenris over the wrist plunged into his chest. Fenris squeezes his fingers, and feels the frantic, shuddering jerk of Anders’ heart in his palm, the warm, wet sensation of it dulled by the distance of the Fade.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
Anders breathes out, a long, shuddering breath that belies his calm demeanour. Fenris had not previously thought him capable of such a poker face. His heart beats in Fenris’ hand like a bird, struggling. “I don’t know.” Anders meets his eyes, and in the dark his are almost black, but his blonde eyelashes are gilded silver by the moon. “I guess I trust you.”
Fenris’ fingers uncurl around Anders’ heart, and the mage’s shoulders lower from where they’d been scraping his ears. Fenris’ gaze falls to his long, crooked fingers, but there’s no telltale spark of magic there. Slowly, Fenris withdraws his hand, watching it fade through the frayed fabric of Anders’ coat as he tries to ignore the burn of a hot, embarrassed flush pushing up into his cheeks. 
Outside the mansion, on the streets of Kirkwall, a pair of mabari start barking, great bellowing things that echo against the stone buildings. A cat yowls, and far off there’s the sound of people shouting. Fenris stares at his bare feet on the stone floor of Hawke’s mansion and hates the fact that his eyes are burning as he tries to untangle his tongue, and dispel the impression that Anders will do something awful to him for his trespass. (Hadriana’s smile flickers behind his eyelids every time he blinks. Her fingers curl, wreathed in green light. His own screams echo in his ears long before the pain hits.)
“Are you alright?”
Anders’ voice is rough and soft, and Fenris jerks his head up, falling back on the easy confidence of anger and letting it buoy him up out of his despair.
“What do you care, mage?”
As Fenris speaks he surges forward, feeling his lips curl back from his teeth in a sneer. Anders doesn’t back away, and it leaves their faces mere inches apart. Anders is looking at him oddly, and abruptly Fenris wishes for more light: knowing the man well enough by now after almost a decade to be able to read the spiderweb cracks of wrinkles in his face as the giveaway they tended to be. 
“You haven’t been yourself since -” Anders hesitates, and Fenris hates him for it, and abruptly cannot look at him. So instead he turns away, throwing his hands into the empty air as if that will satisfy his urge to hit something.
“Since what? Since I killed him. Tell me, mage, what is my ‘self’? What am I?” Fenris means it as a challenge, but his voice cracks, and when he turns back to Anders, chest heaving, he’s horrified to realise that tears are running down his cheeks. He glances at the open door, leading into the dark and deeper into the mansion. He takes a step in the direction of the doorframe.
“Brave.” Anders says the word quickly, and Fenris stops, unable to force himself to turn around but unable to leave either as some stupid, childish part of him that he had long since thought irreparably ruined rises in delight. “Funny. And you know it, though you pretend you don’t.” It’s getting hard to breathe. Fenris stares into the thick shadows of the next room, where Orana’s drawn the curtains across the window. Elsewhere in the mansion, there’s a cheer and a crow of triumph from Isabela as the rest of their friends laugh.
“Smartest man I’ve ever met, probably.” Anders goes on, but doesn’t move. “Fucking stubborn. Annoying. Terrifying, with a greatsword. And without one.” Anders hesitates, and Fenris hears the catch of his breath as clear as a bell struck at daybreak. “My friend.”
Fenris clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth hurt, and shuts his eyes. More tears fall down his cheeks, tickling his chin  as they go. 
“A good man. That’s what you are, Fenris.” Anders delivers the proclamation with the same certainty with which he insists on his desperate, hopeless, flawed revolution.
Fenris whirls on him. “And what do you know of good men?” Fenris means it cruelly, and he tries to take satisfaction in the way that Anders flinches. But then the stupid, stubborn, ridiculous man lifts his chin.
“Enough to know one when I see one. And know when he’s being an ass.”
“You know nothing of me!” Fenris almost bellows, and cowers when the words echo. For a moment, both he and Anders hold their breath as they wait for one of Hawke’s servants - or worse - their friends, to come and investigate. But a minute passes, tense as a knife edge, and no one does. Fenris goes on, and tries to ignore the prickling in his sweating hands. “You don’t know what I am. You don’t know what I’ve done.”
Dust motes dance silver in the starlight as they fall onto the piano. Anders purses his lips. “Alright, I don’t. But I know that you dress up as Fen’harel for the kids in the alienage every Wintersend. I know you win more often at cards than you say you do, and that you let Merrill win. I know you’re a little bit in love with Isabela, and a little bit in love with Hawke, and it kills you that they chose each other because it kills me too. I know that you have more reason than any bastard I’ve ever met to hurt me until I forget how to breathe and you’re one of very few people who never has. I know that I’ve known you for a decade and you haven’t killed me yet.”
“I might.” It’s not a threat. Fenris doesn’t look at Anders when he says it, staring dully instead at the painting on the wall: some rainy Fereldan landscape, the details of which he can’t make out in the dark. 
“But you haven’t.” Anders steps forward, and Fenris steps back, and feels dizzily as if they’re dancing. The moonlight catches on Anders’ chin, and Fenris can make out the faint tooth of a scar just below his bottom lip, hair thin in his stubble. Anders swallows, and breaks Fenris’ gaze, eyes tracing over a lute hanging on the wall. “You know mages don’t get to keep their kids.”
The subject change is so abrupt that Fenris feels as if he’s been physically thrown off kilter. “What?” He’s been standing here long enough to feel the cold, now, and taste the wood polish in the air. Anders goes on, still not looking at him, massaging one hand with the other as his fingers flex. 
“They take them away. Can’t abort them, not under Chantry law. I’m a Spirit Healer.” 
Fenris’ frown deepens, the back of his head already aching with the dull constant stress of the last fortnight and the sleeplessness that came with it. “I know.” He tries not to make his frustration obvious. Judging by the small grin Anders gives him, he doesn’t succeed.
“I started working with the Circle Healer when I was 17. Day after I was Harrowed. First day wasn’t so bad. A couple lashings. Attempted suicide. Self-harmer. Some kid who said he walked into a wall.” Anders rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh as his hands move to massage his wrists. Fenris watches him carefully. “Second day. There was this girl. Fifteen, Templar father, obviously. I helped deliver that baby.” Anders’ expression shutters. “She wasn’t allowed to see it. I did. I got to hold it, give it to some lieutenant who held it like it was contagious. I don’t even know if it made out of Kinloch. But she begged me to let her hold it and all I could say was that it was already gone.”
“That -” Fenris picks his words as carefully as he would navigate a floor covered in broken glass. “I do not think that you were the one at fault, there.”
“I know.” Anders says the words simply, and reaches up into his hair to pull the tie loose, scratching the tangled waves that fall around his head as he does so. “My point is, when you’re a prisoner, most of the time, the burden is on your gaolor. And you aren’t Danarius’ crimes.”
“It is not the same.” Fenris grinds the words between his teeth as his fingers tighten into fists hard enough to hurt. “I was - the things I did - I did not take babies. I killed them. I broke their skulls on his altars. I aborted them from their mothers before I killed them, too. I cannot - there are not words for the marks that what I have done, what I did, has left on my soul, and I do not know if I will do them again, and I fear them and I fear him, and I fear myself, and I hate them and I hate him and I hate myself, and every hour of every day I live with these cursed chains on my body that I cannot shake no matter how far I run and I do not know how to make it stop.” Once Fenris starts speaking, he can’t slow down, the words falling from his tongue with the tears that run thick and fast down his cheeks as he tears at his arms hard enough to make them bleed. Anders startles forward, and Fenris jerks backward, thrusting his burning hands into the air between them. “I would tear it from my skin. I would rip myself apart piece by piece if I did not know that killing myself would only be a mercy that I have never deserved.” Fenris breathes, and it splinters in his chest. He finishes in a hoarse whisper. “You know nothing of what I am, or what I have been, or what I have suffered, or what I have done. You never have.”
Behind Fenris, through the window, the sound of the ocean beats incessantly against the land. Elsewhere in the mansion, their companions are quiet, and the sound of Sandal’s singing has ceased. Fenris can feel his blood roaring in his ears, and doesn’t bother to brush the tears from his cheeks. Standing in the middle of the room, Anders stares at him, his tall thin figure swaying like a sapling in a breeze. 
Then he says, “You’re right. There’s a lot about you that I don’t know or understand and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m kind of an asshole sometimes. But, Fenris? I need you to know this.” Anders steps forward and gets, stiffly, to his knees, one leg bending more slowly than the other. Fenris stares at him, bewildered, and steps backward until his head bumps softly against the wall. “Forgive the melodrama but uh, I don’t get on my knees for just anyone.” Fenris doesn’t think he has ever seen Anders on his knees, and he realises abruptly that he had never wanted to. Anders gives him a small, nervous smile, and takes a deep breath, swallowing before he speaks. “Fenris. From a mage, on his knees, asking you to listen to him. You deserve to live.”
The sob that works its way out of Fenris’ chest is a living thing, and Fenris chokes on it, sliding down the wall as he begins to cry in earnest. Anders, mercifully, doesn’t move. Fenris doesn’t know how long he cries, only that at the end of it his throat aches and his eyes burn and his head is pounding. But when he opens his eyes, Anders is still there, silver in the dark on his knees next to the piano. Fenris stares at him, and tries to clear his throat.
“You’re a very strange man.”
Anders shrugs, and moves with a visible wince to take the weight off his left knee, leaning against the piano stool as he gingerly unfolds his leg. “I’ve been called worse.”
Slowly, he reaches out into the space between them, scarred, crooked, calloused hand palm upwards, fingers outstretched. Anders looks at him, and his brown eyes are almost black in the dark. Slowly, fighting the sensation that this must be some kind of trap, Fenris reaches out and takes it. Anders’ fingers are cool against his, and his knuckles are bumpy and uneven. But he squeezes Fenris’ hand so hard it’s almost painful, and Fenris feels more tears stinging at the back of his eyes.
For a moment, they sit like that, peaceful in the quiet. Then there’s a soft knock on the doorframe, and Bodahn ducks his head in, face lit by a candle in a brass dish. “Sorry to interrupt messeres, but Mistress Hawke wanted to know if you’d like some libation to keep you company?”
Fenris glances at Anders, half moving to pull his hand back. But Anders’ hand tightens on his, and instead, feeling strangely childish, he nods at Bodahn. “Yes, please. That would be appreciated.”
Bodahn gives him a small, kind smile and ducks his head. “Very good, messere.” He turns, and leaves, and Fenris watches Anders as he shuts his eyes and leans his head back against the barstool, hair fanning out around him like some Orlesian princess.
“I thought you didn’t drink.” It’s not an accusation, motivated more by curiosity than anything.
Anders’ lips curl, and he opens one eye to look at Fenris, fingers tightening in his. “For you? I’ll make an exception. It’s been a long week.”
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zigtheeortega · 4 years
Text
redeemed
pairing | m!raleigh x mc
word count | 6.6k
warnings | cursing, innuendos, mentions of sex
tags | @natesewell, @choicesarehard, @empressazura, @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @pixelsandkink [tagging people who usually ask to be tagged !] 
author’s note | i’ve talked about this before but i’m not a huge fan of the platinum mc’s personality, so i’ve kind of crafted my own that’s quite a bit more rebellious than canon. i’m obsessed with the idea of an mc who’s romancing raleigh and falls into the same pattern of behavior and it genuinely concerns them – so yeah i play with that idea here! i deviate from canon some but not too much ! this is my submission for day 2 of @platinumweekend as well ! also i had no idea how to end this so i apologize for the fizzle out at the end lol
•─────────────────•
As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.
She slammed the door behind her, locking it, running to the windows and closing the curtains, peeking out at the paparazzi that no doubt had already tried flocking at the edges of the blocked off area where the bus was parked.
“Damn, what’s the problem? Can’t I at least get my food from craft services? Jesus,” he complained, grabbing a bottle of water from the fully stocked mini fridge, downing it while Fiona frantically ran around the bus, turning off every electrical device in sight.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She wheeled on him, a few strands of her hair sticking to her lips. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Yeah, you won’t let me go get my fuckin’ overpriced grilled cheese that I know is waiting for me,” he jabbed his thumb towards the venue. “At craft services.”
She eyed him, pupils wide, her anger nearly palpable. “It’s bigger than food.”
He ran a hand through his damp hair, some strands completely drenched in sweat. “Lay it on me.”
And the three words that fell from her lips were soul crushing, his post-show high wearing off in an instant.
“Dom’s been arrested.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He sat up, posture rigid. “What happened?”
“Not here. We’ll talk on the plane,” Fiona said, twisting the knob of the closet door, grabbing the black duffel bag on the ground. She tossed it at his feet, motioning for him to stand. “The jet leaves in an hour. I packed for you.”
“The plane? Where is she?” He was getting more and more frustrated, nearing hysterics. He should’ve felt a bit more shame about how worked up he was getting, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Fiona took notice, her fiery gaze softening at the edges, the blue flames flickering across his face. “Not here, Raleigh.”
He slung the duffle bag on his shoulder, walking to the door.
“Wait –” Fiona said, leaning over the couch to pull the curtain to the side, peering out again. “I paid off a security guard to distract the paparazzi. And when he does, we have to run to the car that’s gonna pull up any minute now – undetected,” she shot back at him, her icy gaze warning.
Within minutes, a security guard with a similar build to Raleigh sprinted towards the venue, jacket over his head, paparazzi on his heels.
With the camera’s flashing finally pointed away, they were able to slide into the back of the cab, thankful that Hank had connections everywhere. The driver rolled up the barrier without question as soon as Fiona tossed him a wad of cash that she’d fished out of a plain leather pouch.
She shook the pouch, her lips set in a thin line. “You know what this is?”
“A purse?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Is this some kind of fuckin’ trick?”
“It’s an emergency fund. Cash. Not traceable.”
She shook her head, dropping the pouch into her lap, before pinching the bridge of her nose. “When Dom first started getting into trouble, I had to pay off a few people here and there, but when it became more frequent, I had to actually sit her down with her accountant and sort this out.”
“Sort… what out?”
“How much money she needed to allocate to her… antics,” she rolled her eyes, propping her elbow on the back of her seat, hand pressed to her forehead.
She looked drained. Fiona never looked disheveled, but he sensed this was the closest she’d be to it.
“If it’s money she needs, that’s fine. Lemme call my agent –”
“There’s only so much cash I can hand people under the table before it becomes a problem. Not just financially, put publicly,” she sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I’ve been able to cover up the smaller mishaps, but this, I’m afraid, might be the start of something… much worse than disorderly conduct.”
“You gonna tell me her charges?” His jaw set in anticipation, already running through a list of the best lawyers in L.A. that got him off from potentially hefty lawsuits.
Her short locks swayed as she shook her head. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”
He blew air out of his cheeks, leaning into the corner of the cab, legs splayed wide as he tried to take a nonchalant stance. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll be glad you have a bedroom, shower, and fridge on the plane,” she said with another shake of her head.
––––
Raleigh laid in bed, aimlessly scrolling through his burner account.
He never really cared for social media under the public eye. Every post of his was either related to tour or the series of brand deals for products he never used. Each page was a personified advertisement – some shit he regretted signing up for.
One drunken night, his curiosity got the best of him and he found himself making a pretty inconspicuous profile, following some funny internet personalities and political commentators. And although he had plans to delete it, once Dom came into the picture, he unabashedly lurked.
He followed her on all platforms, and when he had the chance, he watched her stories, voted in her daily polls, and occasionally scrolled through her old instagram photos.
This time in particular, though, he was looking for something specific without really knowing if there was an answer.
He scrolled to her first post, hundreds down, smiling at high school Dom. Thick eyeliner, layered hair, brace-adorned grin – she was a poster child of adolescence.
Photos of her with Shane at pep rallies, in Halloween costumes, in prom formal wear filled the screen, later transitioning to senior portraits, graduation photos, and dorm photos. A setting of picturesque normality as Dom grew into herself, growing out her choppy layers, softening her makeup, her gleaming smile lighting up each photo.
She grew more beautiful with each year, each little phase of her life coming with a new style, a new little identity or association, Dom’s willingness to try new things the reason she was able to break free from her small town.
God, was Raleigh so fucking envious of this imperfect little portion of her Instagram. If someone were to look this far back for him, there’d be photoshoots and magazine spreads and paparazzi photos all neatly planned. The shaky off-guard photos, the unedited red eyes, the off guard photos, the expressions they made in them… it was something Raleigh never had the chance to do.
Being in the business for ten years, everything was pristine, crisp – always smiling or smoldering, no in between. Sexy and rugged or smiling and happy. Like he had two modes and he wasn’t ever able to exercise those other parts of himself because being in front of the camera was restrictive – while Dom was able to be unabashedly herself.
He was breaking shit just to feel something, to have some range of emotions even if it was a stupid fucking publicity stunt where he damaged property or made out with another politician’s daughter or attempted irreparable blows to his public image.
The more recent the posts, the more calculated her photos got, the phrase “ad” showing up more and more. But even with a skincare brand deal, her step-by-step skincare routine video was on brand for Dom, her bright smile and wit always present in everything she did.
But Raleigh couldn’t help but feel like parts of her were slipping away.
Her online persona was still pretty crisp, except for her style shift – tattoos, a couple piercings, and some edgier photoshoots signified a tonal shift in Dom’s aesthetic, but nothing he hadn’t seen before.
Hell, when he used his first innuendo on his solo album, there was widespread outrage on Sunset Skatepark fan forums, ripping into him for singing about using his dick (even though he was definitely an adult and definitely not a virgin).
But other than her general style, nothing was different. Nothing to indicate this downward spiral that Fiona kept a secret.
Where’s the shift? He thought to himself as he scrolled to the top. When the hell did she start changing for the worse?
She’d come a long way from her clean songs that didn’t require a radio edit. He felt a pang of something in his chest –– regret, maybe? Was he the reason she’d changed?
The questions sent him into a near tailspin, his pulse quickening at the realization.
He was the problem.
She’d since deleted her photos with Raleigh, because their breakup was so public, but he could tell that the shift happened right around the time she started spending more time with him.
He’d been a mentor of sorts, opposite of Avery, showing her the ropes… which meant that he was teaching her how to evade the press, fuck with the paparazzi, pick out industry plants – the whole nine yards.
She was impulsive, daring, adventurous, fearless – all the qualities he liked in himself. But he never thought those traits would take a negative turn, morphing her into a rebel with an affinity for breaking laws.
He could blame himself all he wanted, but he couldn’t blame her for taking the same route he took. 
He knew it better than anybody – it was hard to shift the public’s persona of you. Once you did something horrible to make them hate you, either the rebrands and ass kissing worked, or you get written off by everyone.
Raleigh Carrera was a special case, a wild card of sorts who toed the line, unpredictable, both with his craft and his behavior. The nastier his lyrics, the crazier his publicity stunts were, the more polarizing he was.
And that was no doubt the route Dom was on, heading towards an inevitable press nightmare – if people were to find out the home grown rags-to-riches Dominique Avalos dove headfirst into her rebellious phase with no smooth transition, she wouldn’t be able to Google herself for months without having a panic attack.
She’d changed drastically, but that’s what fame did to people. Some people cracked under the pressure, or they rebelled to show the public they were in control of their narrative… or that they desperately wanted it back.
He took a shaky breath, swiping out of the app.
He wasn’t sure if he could save her, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna try.
––––
The moment the jet touched down, Fiona was in full manager mode, adamant on abandoning his phone, stressing the importance of going off the grid.
“If anyone finds out you’re here, they’ll be able to put two and two together. Why else would you be in the same country as Dom when you’re supposed to be heading towards New York for your next show?” She asked, hand outstretched.
“I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, tossing his phone into her palm. “Where are we exactly?”
“I can’t tell you,” she sighed, looking exhausted. He had a gut feeling she hadn’t slept a wink since they’d boarded the plane.
“Why not?”
“It’s a bit safer that way.”
He scoffed. “You’re serious? Look, I’m not exactly thrilled to pull the A-List celebrity card, but this is borderline kidnapping.” 
“Let’s just say you might be able to pick up on some of the language,” she said, turning on her heel to exit the plane.
Within minutes, they were pulling onto a dirt backroad, the small houses they passed barely casting shadows onto the ground.
The town itself was seemingly innocuous – the tiny brick houses riddled with dust, the stone paths lining the road cracked and deserted. The tiny town had turned in for the night, their old Sedan sticking out like a sore thumb despite the old model.
Raleigh squirmed in his seat, twisting the expensive watch on his wrist. He fucking hated this.
No matter where he went, he was noticed in some capacity – so wearing a Rolex and Cartier rings in a small village in the middle of nowhere just made him look pretentious.
He slipped the rings and watches off, shoving them deep into the pocket of his jeans, ignoring Fiona’s calculating side eye (one he knew all too well).
The only light, other than the gas lamp posts and their high beams, came from the building at the end of the road.
The car pulled around the side, flicking their lights off, the driver peeking around before motioning for them to exit the car.
“Throw the hoodie on, Raleigh,” Fiona ordered while slipping on a ball cap of her own, her casual t-shirt and leggings wildly different from her normal outfit.
“Sure,” he murmured, tugging the hood on.
The walk from the car to the dusty glass front door was short, Fiona breaking into a light jog to keep up with Raleigh’s brisk pace.
The makeshift “waiting room” in the front corner of the station was empty, the scratched up folding chairs in crooked rows. The front desk was occupied by a sleeping form, head buried in the crease of his elbow, snore muffled by the counter top.
The other officer stood at the back near an old vending machine, sliding coins into the slot, the clink of each piece ringing out against the brick and linoleum.
No cameras, he thought, after a quick scan of the room, shoving the hood back in its place at the nape of his neck.
The holding cells were farther back, but he couldn’t see her.
He stepped up to the counter where the man was sleeping, giving a gentle knock to the top. The man stirred, unfurling his arms, while the other man in the back glanced up from where he was, elbows deep in the snack machine as he fished out his bag of chips.
Raleigh offered a basic greeting in Spanish, frowning just a bit when both officers’ eyes lit up – the phrase “famoso” and “celebridad” falling from their lips almost as soon as they recognized him.
Yeah, he was gonna use his notoriety to their advantage, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting when people immediately tried gauging what they could get from him when they realized who he was.
For a long time he’d been waiting for the day where name dropping himself didn’t get him out of deep shit.
And the day he met Dom, when he assumed she knew who he was, all she did was raise her brow as if to say “Why the fuck should I care?”
It startled him, truthfully. But it was such a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t remember a time before or after that someone showed no interest in him.
The officer in the back jogged to the front, pulling his phone out of his back pocket while asking for a picture.
He looked to Fiona, who was shaking her head furiously, stepping up next to him like her 5’5 stature was enough to shield him. “Nobody can know we’re here.”
He nodded, turning back to the men, trying to negotiate with them.
Yes, Dom’s here.
No, you can’t see her.
He racked his brain trying to figure out how he was gonna get himself – and Dom – out of the situation unscathed if he couldn’t give them a photo or autograph.
“Dom bought me the Rolex and Cartier rings, right?”
Fiona’s brows furrowed. “Yes. She gifted them to you on your birthday. You know this –”
“No, what I mean is, she has the receipts? Or you do?”
“I don’t have them, but I have access to them,” she said, still confused.
“Get rid of ‘em. I haven’t told anyone she bought them for me.”
Her face lit up in recognition, and she nodded, encouraging him to go on.
He dug in his pockets, fishing out the watch and thin bands.
After a quick exchange, the officers took two rings each, and began rapid fire arguing over the Rolex. They tossed Raleigh the keys, stepping out the front door.
“I’ll keep watch,” Fiona said, turning towards the door.
“Hey –” Raleigh said, laying a hand on her shoulder.
She quirked a brow at him. “What?”
“You’re not coming with?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not? I’m not even sure what the fuck I’m supposed to say –”
“She specifically asked for you.”
He took a step back, resting his palm on the countertop behind him. “What the – are you… are you serious?”
She nodded once. “She might’ve been slurring, but she was clear as day. She wanted you.”
He blew air out of his cheeks, running a hand through his short waves.
Fiona’s gaze softened, her eyes still piercing. Fiona was a lot of things – steadfast, headstrong, determined – but she wasn’t soft. She didn’t sugar coat shit.
“She’s missed you. She doesn’t confide in me much, but even I can tell she’s unhappy. Be gentle with her,” she said, gaze tearing right through him.
The walk to the holding cells felt miles long – his resolve was shrinking with every step.
He wasn’t afraid of seeing Dom, not at all. He was afraid of whatever part of himself that might’ve been reflected in her.
The cell was empty, save for the curled form on the bench, long dark hair cascading over the edges of the seat.
“Dom?” He called, hearing her sharp inhale of breath as she stirred, bending into a long stretch, her limbs unfurling until she was lying on her back on the bench, tilting her head towards his voice.
God, even when she looked like life had torn her to shreds, she still looked beautiful.
“Raleigh?” She croaked, her eyes squinting to adjust to the low lights. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She arched her back, stretching again, her long frame covering the bench. It was almost the right level of distracting to stop the creeping annoyance at her question.
“What do you mean? I’m here to bail you out, obviously.”
“Where’s Fiona?” She asked groggily, rolling off the side of the bench awkwardly, trying to gain her footing.
“You asked for me, didn’t you?” He raised a brow, sliding his forearms through the bars, resting them there.
“She told you?” She asked, voice raising in betrayal, a scoff following his silence. “I was drunk.”
“And? You still asked for me.”
 “Oh, fuck off,” she murmured, crossing her arms as soon as she was balanced.
He dangled the keys between his fingertips, gently jingling them. “I’ll let you out if you tell me what happened.”
Her lip curled in annoyance. “You’d really leave me here?”
“You don’t want to find out.”
She ran a hand through her hair, blowing air out of her cheeks. “Alright.”
He unlocked the door and slipped in, the heavy door creaking as he slid it wide enough for him to fit through.
She backed up, plopping back onto the bench, arms lowering to curl around her sides.
He followed suit, sitting a couple feet away from her on the other end of the bench, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.
She stared at the floor, clearly waiting for him to make a move.
“So…”
“So, what?” She grumbled.
“So… how’d you end up here?” He asked, trying to remain as relaxed as he could since she was clearly on edge, ready to tear him a new one at a moment’s notice.
“I was drunk. I got in a fight. Here I am.”
He sighed. “Look, you don’t have to tell me everything, but I can’t help you if I don’t know if you’re ankles deep or neck deep.”
She chewed her lip, chin dipping lower, strands of her hair falling forward, creating an inky veil. “Fine. I’ll tell you but… can you not… look at me?”
Raleigh’s face contorted in confusion, but he listened, swivelling until he was facing the back wall, propping one leg up on the bench.
He waited for her to speak. The break in conversation was a bit too long – but before a quip could fall from his lips, she spoke.
“I did get drunk, and I did get in a fight. I’m telling the truth but I, uh, left out some details,” she started, her voice low.
“I, uh, was passing through this town after my last show because I wanted to go to a bar without being noticed. Like the old days. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t think anyone would find me here.”
That was her first mistake. Smaller towns surprisingly had the most dedicated fans – maybe because they’re bored or nothing exciting happened in their towns, but most of his die hard fans came from the middle of nowhere. 
“The first hour was fine, and I was able to drink and dance with strangers. Most of them were a lot older than me and spoke zero English – and I speak a little bit of Spanish as you know, so I could make some small talk, but I was on my own just… enjoying myself and my freedom,” she said, and he could almost see the grin tug at the corner of her lips.
“I noticed someone taking photos of me with their phone, so I got a bit paranoid and sat in a booth in the back drinking for a little while longer so I could figure out my next move,” she continued, before sighing loudly. “I guess they told the local news or something, because by the time I decided to leave, I ran smack into a reporter on the sidewalk.”
Silence ensued again, this time more deafening than the last.
“I didn’t mean to give her a black eye. Or break the camera. Or elbow the camera man in the face when he tried restraining me. I just… couldn’t think straight. I was mad. Intoxicated and wrong, but still mad.”
“I know Fiona’s trying her best to get me out of this mess but… I think I went too far this time.”
Raleigh stared at the wall, racking his brain for something. He was a little dumbfounded that she spilled to him so fast. He figured it was gonna take a bit more digging to get her to open up, but she blossomed in front of him; despite the wilted petals, he was relieved to know she still trusted him enough to confide in him.
“Are you gonna say something?” She asked, a bit timidly.
“Not if I can’t look at you.”
“Okay, then don’t say anything.”
He sighed, settling into his spot on the bench, waiting again for her to speak.
“Why did you come?”
Instinctively, he shrugged. “You asked me to.”
“But you don’t owe me anything. We’re not together.”
“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t drop everything to come help you. I mean, I’d like to think we’re at least acquaintances, if not friends,” he joked, resting his arm over the back of the bench.
“Sure,” she said, voice straining just a bit. Just enough for him to notice.
Dom was a special kind of resilient – one trait that Raleigh was sure she didn’t copy from him.
He knew that being a woman in the industry was already hard enough – everything from beauty to body standards to raging misogyny was enough to give people reasons to hate her, as stupid as they were.
Raleigh benefitted from the standards in place for men. He was young, attractive, talented – didn’t matter what he did wrong. He’d bounce back.
But he’d seen some vile shit since he’d ascended to fame. So many celebrities fading into obscurity after one mishap. One bad album. One bad interview. One rude encounter. One rumor.
For some reason, despite diving headfirst into troubled waters, Dom bounced back every time, fire in her eyes, her jaw set in determination, her face painted with the look she got when she was ready to face the world.
But whatever she was feeling in that moment, in that jail cell in the middle of nowhere – was enough to break her. 
He heard her take a deep, shaky breath, and he started to turn, but he felt her warm palm on his shoulder, holding him in place.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
He listened to her labored breathing, likely struggling to hold back tears, while he stared at the cracks in the wall, trying to think of something – anything – to console her.
“Did Fiona seem… upset?” She asked, seeming a bit nervous.
“It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest. She’s pretty intense all of the time,” he laughed, not really meaning to.
He was relieved to hear a light chuckle from behind him.
“Yeah, I figure she’s pretty mad at me. I don’t blame her,” she sighed, another break in conversation ensuing. A couple beats later, she asked, bluntly, “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he answered with zero hesitation. “I know you’d do the same for me.”
She laughed again, a bit more genuine that time. “Not sure where you got that impression.”
“You wouldn’t leave me here to rot if I asked you to come, Dom. You’re not that heartless,” he teased gently, glad that things were taking a lighthearted turn.
“I’m just glad you’re not gonna lecture me. I already know I’m gonna get an earful from Fiona, not to mention the shit I’ll get from Shane and Avery. I couldn’t handle one from you.”
He grimaced. “Uh, well, you’d rather hear it from me than Fiona, right?”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she mumbled under her breath.
“You know I normally don’t care what you do, because it’s your life, and you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, but Dom…” he trailed off, trying to choose his words carefully.
“I know I fucked up, Raleigh. I don’t need you making me feel more guilty than I already am,” she said defensively, voice raised.
“I’m not gonna make you feel guilty. Just offering some advice.” God, did those words feel foreign to him. Offering advice. He never did shit like this for anybody.
He took her silence as a green light. “You’ve just gotta slow down, Dom.”
Whatever impact his words made, he couldn’t see it, since he was still facing the damn wall. “Can I please turn around? I can’t talk to you like this.”
“Sure.”
He adjusted himself on the bench, trying to look attentive without staring. She was stunning, even with the smudged makeup, the dark circles, the red eyes  “You don’t have to do anything and everything you’re asked to do, but you gotta find some kind of balance.”
She wrung her hands in her lap, picking at her cuticles absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know.”
“I mean balance the good and bad, Dom. There’s a line for people like us and you can’t cross it often. You can get close, but you can’t just dive over it and not expect there to be some fallout.”
“I know,” she said, bluntly, looking a bit more annoyed with each word that came from his mouth.
“You can cause some chaos, but some of it isn’t acceptable,” he said, watching her expression contort in anger. “For them. Not acceptable for them. The average person, I mean.”
“Oh, you’re one to fucking talk!” She rolled her eyes. “How are you gonna sit here and tell me that your brand of shit stirring is okay, but mine isn’t?”
“I’m not the one sitting in a jail cell right now, Dom,” he said, calmly but firmly. He wasn’t used to being the rational one, but he had to be level headed. He was trying to save her.
She ran a hand through her hair, leaning back against the back of the bench. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“Trust me, I know.”
“You’re hypocritical.”
“Not necessarily,” he said, propping his arm up on the back of the bench. “I was in the industry for years before I started dirtying up my image. You just got here.”
“And you’ve been here too damn long to act the way you do,” she nearly spat, lashing out.
“I’m too far gone,” he simply stated, keeping surprisingly calm through it all.
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“I’ve been here for a long time, which means, I’ve got a lot more fuck ups under my belt. Irreparable damage, if you will.”
“People love you,” she said, matter-of-factly, like that solved it – it honestly relieved him. A bit of Dom’s naivete from when they first met was shining through.
“People also hate me, because I’m a little shit who sets fires for fun,” he grinned. “For legal reasons, my lawyers insist I clarify that I’m joking.”
She rolled her lips, trying to suppress a smile. “People who hate you don’t know you.”
He nodded. “You’re right, and you’re so close to the point I’m sure you can taste it.”
“I’m too far gone to save. No matter how hard I try for the rest of my career, I can never get away from the wild card label. Plenty of people don’t wanna work with me. I’ve damaged business relationships. Lots of artists don’t want to collab with me because of how it’ll make them look.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I know you don’t want this. You’re too good for whatever baggage comes with being a ‘rebel’, Dom. I don’t want to see you turn out like me.”
For the first time that night, she stared at him – really stared at him. Her deep brown, nearly midnight eyes searched his for any sign of insincerity.
“You’re… serious?” She asked finally, brows furrowed in confusion.
“One hundred percent honest,” he said, nodding.
She sat back in her chair, chewing on her lip, contemplating.
“Can you turn back around again?”
He nodded, wordlessly facing the wall again.
“I left out a few details,” she said from behind him.
“I’m listening,” he affirmed.
“I, uh, was pretty hammered by the time I left, so it was even harder for me to understand what people were saying,” she said before he could speak. “I heard the reporter say ‘Raleigh’ and ‘novio’ and I saw red… so… I, uh… swung.”
His chest clenched, tightening until it was difficult to breathe. He was thankful she’d asked him to face the other direction, because he knew his reaction betrayed his cool demeanor.
“I guess I’m not over it,” she laughed humorlessly.
He ran a hand over his face, racking his brain for a response, but coming up short.
“You, um, don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have gotten attached. It’s on me.”
That made him turn, swivelling around before she could finish speaking.
She flicked her head towards the bars of the cell, raising a hand to cover her face. “I said ‘don’t look at me’, Raleigh. Goddamn.”
Years and years of PR training and interviews and he had no idea how the fuck to console her. Partially because he was trying to get a grip on whatever the hell was going on in his brain as well.
Instead, he answered her with a question of his own, a tactic he’d used anytime he wanted to deflect in interviews.
“Why can’t I look?”
Dom tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, slowly rotating to meet his gaze. She sank her teeth deep into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
“Fuck,” she cursed, rubbing the backs of her hands under her eyes, the dried black mascara under her eyes beginning to liquidate again. “Because I’m crying, Raleigh. And I don’t cry.”
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I know there’s more to it than you’re telling me,” he asked, holding up two of his fingers in a solute. “No judgement.”
She sighed, crossing the room to put some distance between them. She began pacing, taking slow steps as she spoke.
“I might’ve fucked up my career and I keep letting people down and I’m destructive because this whole fame thing isn’t what I signed up for and I didn’t think I’d cave under pressure like every other mid twenties child actor who goes through a premature mid-life crisis, but here I fucking am,” she said, nearly out of breath by the end.
His legs carried him across the room before he could think twice, pacing towards her while she strode across the room in the opposite direction.
“God, I’m so fucking stupid –”
“Stop. You’re not stupid.”
“I am,” she said, wheeling on him. “And – and I’m embarrassed. I’m embarrassed that my manager and – and my ex –” She stopped in her tracks, rubbing a palm over her forehead, shutting her eyes.
He reached out to her, but let his hand fall almost immediately.
“My acquaintance had to fly out to a fucking village in the middle of nowhere to bail me out –” 
“Dom, stop –”
“– because I fought a fucking reporter over not being able to handle my fucking feelings –”
“Dom –”
“– like an adult with a functioning frontal lobe all because I love someone who –”
Her eyes popped open, her expression horrified. “Oh my god, I’m – I –”
She dug the heel of her hands into her eyes, dropping into a squat. “Fuck, fuck, Goddammit –”
“Did you just –”
“Yeah, Raleigh, I did. Don’t make me feel worse, alright? I know I fucked up,” she groaned from her heap on the ground.
“You just said you love me, Dom. I think I’m allowed to react,” he said, a slight teasing to his voice.
She glanced up, glaring. “Okay, then, react.”
Her gaze was fiery, her deep brown irises challenging – something else a bit more vulnerable lying beneath.
She was terrified.
He leaned down, gripping her around the waist to pull her back up, wrapping his arms around her upper back, hugging her to his chest.
She melted into his arms, relaxing and leaning into his embrace.
“I didn’t mean to say it,” she murmured into his chest.
“So do you?” He asked, chin gently balanced on her head.
“What?”
“Do you love me?”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully, voice small.
“You don’t have to know. I don’t know either,” he said, just as earnest, feeling her tense in his arms. “But I do know that I like you enough to want you around, and that counts for something, right?”
She laughed (as genuine as he’d heard it), leaning back to look at him. “Yeah, it does.”
Their bodies were still pressed together, Dom’s chin tilted upwards towards him, their faces nearly touching.
“If this gets out, don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re a bad person,” he said, voice low. “You’re the best person I know –”
Dom closed the gap between them, capturing his lips in an intense kiss. He cupped her face in his palms and held her in place, moaning into her parted lips.
God, there was nothing that compared to kissing her. Nobody matched up. He’d made out with a lot of people since he was flung into stardom at sixteen, and no one – absolutely no one – left him in a daze like she did.
She gripped the strings of his hoodie, pulling him closer, sighing contentedly against him.
The smell of her shampoo mixed with the sweet scent of her skin and the warmth of her hands and her chest flush against his – it was the next best thing to being inside of her.
He pulled back, trying to catch the dreamy, half-lidded look she always got when they parted.
“So… did you take your jet here?”
He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Out of context, that sounds so superficial.”
She grinned, her first genuine smile that night. “Oh, but you’re not? Hanging around a rising artist to cling to relevancy?”
He laughed, the sound reverberating off of the walls. “I really am rubbing off on you, aren’t I?”
“Yep. The good and bad,” she agreed, still smiling at him.
“The good?” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’re literally the reason I haven’t walked out on my label and moved to bum fuck nowhere and lived off the land,” she said, shrugging. “You taught me how to have fun. You were the only one keeping me sane.”
He thought he was the one encouraging her to leap over the edge, but he was the one tugging her arm back.
The whole time he was convinced he was a bad influence, but he was doing some good – for her.
But with that revelation came the guilt at her words.
“‘Were’?”
“Well, we don’t really talk anymore. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“Yeah,” she chewed her lip, stepping back, unraveling herself from his embrace. “I’m sorry.”
That was a slap to the face. Dom rarely apologized, because if she felt she was right, she wasn’t going to budge. She was stubborn as hell.
“Huh? Why?” “I don’t want to guilt you into spending time with me… or feeling things for me,” she said, rubbing her arm. “I didn’t mean to corner you.”
“You didn’t. I wanted to come.”
She glanced up, blinking at him. “No, you didn’t –”
“I did,” he emphasized, slipping her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. “I kinda missed being forced to hang out with you. Feels like old times.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh from ripping from her, this one louder than the last. “Oh, shut up.”
“No, but seriously, I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Always.”
“Thank you.” With her free hand, she punched his shoulder lightly. “You’ll regret that sooner or later.”
“Nah,” he said, lip curling into a smirk. “I don’t think I will.”
––––
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tinymiko · 4 years
Text
Coffee and cream
Henry Cavill/ thick woman
Rough sex, swearing, road rage, one night stand lots of swearing seriously I have a filthy mouth
So this is the first time sharing here and the first fic like this I've ever written be gentle. Also it's 4:50am and I'm doing this on my phone so formatting sucks.
Coffee and cream
Henry waited in line at the Starbucks half tempted to take off the ball cap and hoody in order to rush the service. Taking a look at the crowd he quickly changed his mind, his mother always said patience was a virtue. Besides getting his coffee 2 minutes earlier wouldn’t make up for the crowd of fans who would inevitably detain him for at least thirty minutes. He loved his fans was grateful for them but sometimes he wished he could grab a cup of coffee without getting mauled.  
 
He scooted towards the rear wall hunching in on himself watching the people come through the doors enjoying watching people without them watching him. A rush of hot air blew in as the door opened again. A small woman walked in head down auburn curls swinging down to her back blocking his view of her face. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to see her face but he felt compelled to move forward eyes tracking her as she waited in line. She was striking  pale skin dark eyes, long lashes. She had small lips that seemed to be perpetually smiling. Henry moved closer. Close enough that he got a whiff of her perfume,, she smelled like coconuts and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. No heavy floral perfume or overly sweet vanilla for the little lady. Coconuts was strangely appropriate, exotic sweet like her smile.
 
He shook his head and backed up wondering just what it was about this woman that had struck him so. She was pretty no doubt but not the most beautiful he’d seen, hell not even the most beautiful in the Starbucks. She had drawn attention though, more than a few eyes followed her. It wasn’t just that she was tiny barely reaching his chest she was undoubtedly a woman, thick and full. There were no gentle slopes or subtle curves on her. No the little doll was like a mountain road, round and dangerous curves. The sharp dip of her waist almost cartoonish in comparison to the ample hips and the swell of creamy breast. She was built like a brick shit house.
 
 
Henry was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice he had moved so close to her until she bumped into him. Her little hands steadying herself on his abs and he felt his gut clench in desire at the heat of her brief touch.
 
“ I’m so sorry sir, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
 
“No I apologize, I hadn’t realized I was so close to you. I was a bit impatient for my coffee I guess.”  Henry took a deep breath when her brown eyes widened in recognition
 
 
“No worries it’s as much my fault as yours patience is a virtue I never possessed, especially not when coffee is involved. Besides it’s a hazard of being small sometimes people don’t see me down here.”
 
She smiled and then walked towards the pickup line grabbing a comically large Frappuccino. She walked back over to him handing him a grande caramel latte with Henry scrawled on the cup.
 
“I think this is you.” She told him an amused smirk on her face before she turned and walked away.
 
He stood for a moment just watching her go before chasing her out the door his long legs catching up to her quickly.
 
“ You know who I am?”
 
“ of course you’re huge dude plus a ball cap does not a disguise make.” The smirk was back on her face and Henry got the feeling she was laughing at him
 
“why didn’t you say anything?”
 
“ Because no one deserves to get attacked by fans before their first cup of coffee and you were practically crawling into your sweater trying to hide. Which is hard to do when you’re that big so kudos on that.”
 
 
Henry looked at her with disbelief before letting out a loud guffaw.
 
“Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
 
 
“Already got one cutie besides I gotta go to work but enjoy your coffee. Also I loved you in the Witcher the wig really does it for you or does it for me however you want to take it.”
 
 
She climbed in a black SUV with a grunt that had him smilin, why did the smallest people drive the biggest cars.
 
“wait can I buy you dinner tonight. I'm in town for a few days training with Gracie.”
 
“The ju jitsu guy?” she asked.
 
“ yeah how’d you know?”
 
“I’m Puerto Rican we’re raised on boxing and MMA well that and dominoes. Anyways I really do have to go my boss is a hard ass and I’m already  late.”
 
“wait, just can you call in. I don’t know anyone here and I’d really like to thank you for not outing me.”
 
Isabella took a deep breath. She was really trying not to freak out. Henry fucking Cavill was talking to her! Asking her to dinner her plain little Isabella Sanchez. Of course she had immediately recognized him, who wouldn’t.  She had also recognized how hard he’d tried to blend into the walls and she felt sorry for him. How hard must it be for him to do anything without being mobbed. She was still trying to decide if it was worth hearing her boss's mouth when a group of girls came out of Starbucks. Unfortunately at that same moment Henry had taken off his cap to run his hands through his hair. The girls immediately squealed and rushed towards him. Not taking the time to think Isabella unlock the doors to her Suburban and yelled for him to get in. The car shook with the force of his body jumping in the passenger side and Isabella pulled the car in reverse tires squealing while she made an illegal turn onto the highway.
 
 
“ Wow thanks! I’ve never been actually been in a car chase.”
 
 
“that was hardly a car chase.” She said smiling
 
 
“Could have fooled me.” Henry muttered loudly.
 
“I could drive you back to the fangirls.”
 
 
“ no you’re a fantastic driver I didn’t fear for my life at all.”
 
Isabella snorted. So she had a lead foot she got him out of there before he could be molested by overly caffeinated fan girls.
 
 
“ I’m Isabella by the way.”
 
She held one hand towards him while quickly changing lanes and swerving around a slow driver.
 
“maybe you should keep both hands on the wheel.” He suggested with a dry chuckle. He was also not so discreetly putting on his seat belt. Isabella rolled her eyes. With his shoulders she wasn’t sure anything short of a head on collision would even jostle him.
 
20 minutes later they were pulling into his hotel and Henry had never been more glad to see a hotel in his life. The fact that the GPS has estimated their driving time at 40 minutes instead of the 20 minutes of near flying it took may have accounted for that. Isabella was sweet and funny and scary and the craziest driver he had ever had the displeasure of riding besides. He wasn’t sure how they had survived or how she hadn’t gotten arrested. She violated more laws than he had known existed cursing in English and Spanish at anyone that didn’t drive fast enough. So anyone driving the speed limit or below. He was a bit terrified of her, turned on to and he wasn’t sure what that said about him.
 
“ come up to the room well order room service besides I think I need some Dramamine”
 
 
“You can’t complain if you didn’t die that’s the rules .”
 
“I’m not sure I could complain if I did die.”
 
She snorted at his muttered words maybe she should have taken it easy on him but honestly she loved to drive loved the speed being higher than everyone else for once it was exhilarating.  She followed him to his room half worried half horny and wondered if she should be more concerned. She didn’t usually follow strange men to their hotel rooms. He had looked so panicked when those girls spotted him she couldn’t just abandon him.  She usually had good instincts about people and hers were saying he was a good person. of course her mind was telling her instincts she was thinking with her lady bits and well her lady bits weren’t thinking at all.
They ordered sandwiches and talked while they ate. Henry found himself telling her about his childhood about his love life or recent lack of and everything in between. Isabella was surprisingly easy to talk to. She wasn’t afraid to call him on his shit or to eat with gusto and he was glad. Hollywood and their   and gluten free salads were getting old. He missed comfort foods and comfortable people.  He laughed loudly as she told him about her uncle and father nearly getting into a fist fight over a game of dominoes how her aunt had forbidden the game since the “incident “ as everyone now called. Isabella called It hilarious and was still lamenting the lack of video footage of the two men dueling with canes while cursing up a storm. ( this actually happened)
 
It was nice really nice actually. He hadn’t felt so normal in years so when she stopped talking to take a drink he kissed her. Pulling her lush little body to him until she was straddling his lap. Her hips rocking against his hardness causing him to hiss.
 
He should stop he hadn’t meant to go this far but she felt so goddamn perfect in his arms. Squirming in his lap the heat of her cunt burning him through the jeans he was wearing. Fuck it he thought for once throwing caution to the wind. He wanted this wanted her. Isabella with her kind eyes and loud laughter her crazy road rage and gusto for life. It beckoned him a sirens call that he was lost to. He had spent years playing the game enjoying the fruits of fame. Had models and actresses all long limbed lithe all the same. Henry realized as he grabbed a handful of hips that it was like eating rice every day. It would keep you alive but was hardly living. Isabella this vibrant stranger was like a feast after years of famine.
 
 
 
 His hands traveled her back down to cup the fullness of her ass.  He pulled his mouth from hers to run his lips against her throat nipping at her jaw. She tasted like heaven sweet and salty and just fucking divine. Her fingers clawed at his back as ground herself harder against him he could feel her wet heat through the thin panties she wore. Her skirt uselessly rolled around her waist.
 
“Fuck Henry please”
 
 
Her pleas went straight to his cock and he ripped her blouse from her body tearing it in two leaving scraps hanging from her arms. Her nipples dusky rose and pebbled in his hand. He couldn’t help but suck one into his mouth before letting it go with a loud pop. She clenched her thighs and bucked her hips riding his Jean clad cock ferociously.
 
“You like little doll” he pulled the other nipple into his mouth sucking harder and she made little mewling noises. Dhe was going to be the death of him. He had known the second he had gotten into the car with her. He just hadn’t known she would ride him to death mewing like a kitten while fucking like the devil.
 
“more please harder"
 
 
Never one to deny a beautiful woman Henry pulled her still writhing body off him and tossed her bodily on the bed. She landed on the hard but he didn’t stop just ripped the rest of her clothes from her body. Before shoving his own off. Henry paused to look at her his gaze burning her body. The tattoo of a fiery heart on her hip the scar from an old belly piercing. Her glistening pussy just begging to be tasted. So he did he dived into the bed his weight  making her bounce a bit. Spreading her legs he passed his tongue over her slit. She squirmed trying to  close her legs but he held her thighs open scooting until she was trapped by his shoulders. Pinned beneath the massive girth of his muscular body. Every pass of his tongue sent a jolt between her legs. He plunged his tongue  in and out of her sopping hole fucking her with his tongue. Isabella screamed it was too much his weight his smell his touch everything was too much and she thought she might die of pleasure. He thrust two fingers into her cunt twisting and turning them while his tongue lapped at her clit. Her stomach clenched and her back arched obscenely  her breast jutting in the air and she convulsed the strength of her orgasm taking over her body. She shook with after shocks and Henry crawled up her body his face shiny with her slick.
 
 
Isabella felt her body tighten in response seconds before she was sure she was going to pass out but looking at his face covered in her juices his tongue darting out to catch errant drops. She was wet all over again. Pulling his face to hers she licked at the seam of his lips tasting herself. Her fingers ran through his curls and she tugged on them impatiently. In  answer he plunged into his bulbous head stretching her to capacity. He stopped halfway her little cunt so tight that he was afraid he’d hurt her if he fully sheathed himself. Henry could feel the sweat dripping down his head a vein in his neck bulged with the effort to keep still. He wouldn’t hurt her not after she’d been so kind no matter how much he wanted to let go. To fuck her into the mattress.
 
“ Fuck your so goddammit tight. I can’t fuck, we’re going to have to go slow little doll or I might hurt you. ”
 
Isabella took a deep breath slammed her hips forward fully sheathing him. She was full so full she could swear he was going to tear her in two but she needed it, need his big cock to fuck her into the wall.
 
“don’t you hold back don’t you fucking hold back.”
 
 
Fuck was all he could think when the tiny woman slammed her body down on him. He pushed into her his big hands holding her hips in a bruising grip as he pulled out to the tip than  slammed her body down his erection over and over. He had lost it. He knew he was holding her too tightly slamming her little body to strongly. The small part of his mind that still was coherent cursed his weakness even as he continued lifting her up before yanking  her down his cock till finally he felt his balls tighten. He wanted to make it good for her though the absolutely filthy sounds of him gliding in and out of her soaked cunt made him think it already was good for her. He managed to capture one luscious tit in his mouth biting hard to keep it as she thrashed screaming a second release and he roared incoherently feeling his seed fill her up he couldn’t help the smug smirk before finally collapsing on the bed. He had enough presence of mind to make sure she landed on top of him so he wouldn’t crush her then fell asleep.
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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years
Note
Hey! Not sure if my previous request sent so I’m going to send it again, sorry. Can you do a scenario where Tomura, Tamaki, and Hawks have a s/o with thick thighs who often gets embarrassed about how big they are? And the guys just lay on their thighs and it’s super fluffy? You can obviously ignore this if you want
It did don’t worry, I understand tumblr can be a pain sometimes! Ah, i feel like i may have deviated from the specifics of your request, i’m sorry >< hope you enjoy nonetheless ^^” Also it’s pretty long so i put it under a read more :>
Tomura, Tamaki, and Hawks with a s/o with thick thighs who often gets embarrassed about them scenarios!
Tomura:
It was hard to complain - or say anything, really - when you could see the tall, thin-legged woman in the video game Tomura played while you sat idly to his left on the sofa. Almost as if through instinct you brought the blanket that sat wrapped at his back over your legs. You’d thrown it over him earlier, and after some time he’d shrugged it off as if he got too hot. Yet there he was, looking for all the world offended and downright robbed as you took the blanket.
“What’d you do that for?” he asked, clearly pouting at you for robbing him of such cuddly, fuzzy warmth. Apparently. It was getting late, and sleepiness coated his voice.
“I’m... cold.”
Tomura made a face - one that clearly called you a liar, before he actually did so. “Liar.”
You knew better than to lie to him, he’d coax it out of you somehow. “It’s just... y’know, my legs. They’re big...” Your voice was meek and tiny.
“So? Mine are bony.” He shrugged away.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the genuine confusion in his voice. It was cute in his own way, and he admitted to being bony so unabashedly you didn’t know how else to react. He gave a huff you couldn’t quite translate and tossed his controller onto the coffee table, then switching off the TV and literally plopping his head into your lap while he lay on his side. You thought about protesting, but you knew how childish and bratty he could be when you denied him comfort.
Forefinger rubbing circles on your thigh, Tomura dug his face into your legs like a cat begging for rubs, his hand then gently grabbing the thigh furthest from it.  “Don’t be embarrassed around me. I like them,” he said plainly into your skin, though you knew he meant it. “This would be really uncomfortable for both of us if they were small, right?”
“W-well...” Getting the lump in your throat unstuck proved quite a feat, your cheeks and ears feeling like they’d been set aflame. You didn’t let him touch your thighs often, as it was just too... much, so for him to rest his head on them and caress them, it was unexpected. But pleasant and sweet nonetheless. You couldn’t help but brush his hair away from his face, and in doing so revealed serenely closed eyes and a sleepy pout that made your lips curl upward.
“Quite staring, it’s rude,” you hear him jut, before he moves his face to hide the fresh redness of his almost sickly-pale skin, and you stifle a giggle. A few moments of serene silence pass before he’s shifting to glance up at you again, eyes honest and ever-so-innocent somehow. “Hey, I like this. Don’t hide from me anymore, alright? I don’t care about something like that. I want to do this more often.” It’s not like he could tell you not to he embarrassed in general. But he at least didn’t want you embarrassed around him. Tomura brought a hand up to your cheek to gently glide along your cheek with three of this fingers. The touch was so gentle and sweet, it was almost like he was afraid you were made of glass and would shatter.
He turned on his side to adjust his legs across the sofa and settled in, and while you knew he couldn’t see it, you nodded a little. “Okay.”
“Stay with me forever,” you hear him mumble into your thigh. It was his own way of saying “I love you,” you’re well aware of that.
“I love you, Tomura.”
Oftentimes Tomura liked to fake being asleep, just for you to lavish him bu touching his hair - and you played into it anyway, happy to give - not that he didn’t appreciate your affection while he was awake. But this time, as you watched his breathing fall into a slow rhythm and quiet down, he fell asleep for real.
Tamaki:
Tamaki was no stranger to embarrassment himself, so he knew all too well what you felt. Maybe not exactly, but the whole “I need to hide from prying eyes or I’ll combust” shtick? Yeah, he had that down pat. Embarrassment, for Tamaki, is clearly no stranger. Neither is your embarrassment.
So when the two of you are out on your unexpectedly unison day off and you suddenly go silent, staring at the stick-statured women enjoying the cafe like the two of you, it’s hard not to notice. Most aren’t dressed in tight clothing as per Japan’s norm, but there are a few who wore long pants that seemed to elongate - and slim - their legs.
Tamaki’s first clue is when you shift in your seat and adjust your clothing. The second is when you seem to shrink into your seat while someone passes by. The third is when he asks you a question and you don’t hear enough of it to respond. He finds himself adjusting in his seat as he leans over a little. “Y/n, are you okay? You’re uncomfortable.”
“I-I’m sorry, can we leave and go home?” you sputter bashfully, while there is a hint of guilt in your voice, he knows it. For once you’re the one stuttering, not him. He leaves the appropriate yen notes and a few coins on the table, and the two of you leave to walk home. It’s evening by now, people on the streets sparce and the sky vibrant oranges and yellows. You walk hand in hand, arms swinging. The way the glow from sunset illuminated his face is gorgeous, and you almost wish you could take a picture when you get home, regretting that you didn’t as you plop onto the couch in the silence of your living room.
“You’re you,” he says, and you quirk a brow at him. Tamaki’s eyes are drifted off to the side, but there’s a strength within them and his tone. “You’re y/n. It doesn’t matter to me what you look like. As long as you’re still here, I-I’m happy.”
“T-Tamaki...” You’re quite shocked by how suddenly he brings this up, and how gingerly yet... firmly? You’re unsure if that’s the proper word. He’s not a nervous mess as he says it. It’s clear that he’s been waiting to say this, possibly afraid of your reaction - or because he’s just not confrontational that way.
Tamaki scratches the back of his head, slightly slouching over. “I know what other people may think bothers you. I feel that way about myself. Wh-what matters is what you think of yourself.” He finally looks back at you, and while you can tell he wants nothing more than to shove his forehead against the nearest wall, he doesn’t - for you. His hand rests on your thigh nearest to him, and gently rubs a line up and down it. “I care about you, and I want you to, also.”
“Maybe we can work on thinking better of ourselves together,” you say shyly, smile cracking your lips wide open.
He nods shyly and squeezes your thigh. Tamaki leans over and pecks the crown of your head, then quickly pulling away out of embarrassment. You grin and decide to do the same, save for planting a kiss to his jawline repeatedly, and he lets out a noise. Tamaki’s face reddens deeply and he covers it with his free hand bashfully before dropping into your lap and hiding his face into your thighs.
“Aaaah...”
Your fingers wander into his hair and you rub his scalp, receiving a jolt from him before he relaxed to your touch and you giggle.
Hawks:
Being the lover of the number two hero of Japan brought ita fair share of fun and love - and with it occasionally came grief. The public eye was constantly all over the both of you, some hoping to find some scandal while others just wanted to nose in on your daily lives together. Ah, and who could forget the entire, ridiculously long article written on what brand of shampoo you use. That itself didn’t piss you off; if anything, it was sad for them and funny and entertaining for you. What was aggravating was the fact that they were wrong!
Not aggravating, though, was the article written on your figure. It was insulting and almost inhumanely cruel. The comments were worse. But you were trying not to think about it on Keigo’s one day off since the last blue moon (seriously, did they not understand he was human, too?!). You wanted to be as cheery and bright for him as he always is for you, but there was no such thing as hiding something from him.
“What’s gotcha down, babes?” he chirps, sitting next to you on his couch with a drink in his left hand while his right was occupied with rubbing and resting on your thigh. “Did that last movie bum you out? Sorry, didn’t realise it was gonna be sad like that.”
“No, it was great!” You shake your head vehemently, ensuring he knows you weren’t unhappy with his cinematical choice. Lying to him was literally no option; those wonderful, beautiful feathers of his ensured that by letting him hear your heartbeat. “Always having the public fixated on my appearance and habits is frustrating, is all.”
Keigo downs likely half of the coffee he’d grabbed in one swig before nodding knowingly. It’s set atop the end table to be put aside. Then, he leans back on the sofa next to you, trying his best to accommodate his wings and you. “Yeah, I get that. It does take time getting used to,” he says, before making a face. He must’ve been reminiscing on times where something was said about him - or you - publicly that was hurtful or untrue. “You just have to learn to let it roll off your back. It’s probably not much help, but that’s what I did.” It’s not like he had much choice, but you don’t say that.
“You’re right, I guess.” You shrug. That just doesn’t make it any easier to think about, so you can’t help but pout sadly a little. You’ll just have to work with that mindset from now on.
“Hey, c’mon!” he beams with a toothy grin, leaning into your face until there’s a hand’s width between you. “I’m worth it, though! Right?”
You cross your arms and close your eyes with a cheeky smirk. “Hmm, no comment, Mister Reporter, sir!” you joke. Teasing him was always a treat when you felt down.
Keigo pouts immediately at your response, yet you know he appreciates the humour when he whines aloud. You crack open an eye at him, but both eyes are quick to jolt open when you see that impish grin that he only donned when-
“Guess I’ll just have’ta tickle it outta you, eh, chickadee?”
“Oh, no-!”
Before you could even finish that he tackles you into the couch, fingers working their way up your tummy and around your legs to torture your nerves. You laugh and cry at the same time, being so enveloped in it that you can’t find a way to fight back against him. You’re laughing so hard it’s almost hard to breathe when he uses his feathers to his advantage by increasing the area of his tickle-assault.
“W-worth it!” You giggle out, writhing underneath him.
“Me, or the joke?”
“B-bo- heheheh, both!”
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jeonqqin · 4 years
Text
🎉1K FOLLOWERS🎉
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WH Y
I LITERALLY LOG INTO MY CLASS AND PROCEED TO CHOKE ON MY OWN TONGUE IN FRONT OF ALL MY PEERS
I have no idea what to say guys, seriously
thank you so much
I never even dreamed of getting to this point when I submitted my first post on this site, but here I am in the midst of the chaos that is my life. Writing has been my rock and you guys have been my happiness. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to live a dream that I’ve had since I was little.
My Mutuals—
@braveshin T you have been with me through thick and thin. I love talking to you dude. Plain and simple. You lift my spirits and you never complain about me not always being there to talk. It puts me at ease to know that I always have you to talk to whenever I’m busy or have a hectic schedule. So thank you for being the constant reminder that I have someone in my corner no matter how crazy things may get.
@mikoto-ica-fics Mica. You aren’t only my inspiration, you influence so many people in the writing community. You are the true neutral and the peacekeeper of the community and I can’t honestly understand how you do it. You’re amazing dude. You hear everyone out and somehow learn to understand every possible side to every story. It’s hard to believe that I even got the chance to be your friend in the first place. Thank you for always making things right and keeping this world constantly balanced.
@ruellelix Alice, hey. I miss you. I know that we don’t really talk much anymore. I hope you’re doing okay. You were one of my original friends on this site, back when I was a mere blubbering fan. Thank you for being my reminder that there are people who stay.
@nightshade-minho Mika dude, seriously—it’s really crazy how our friendship manifested. I remember being totally in shock. At first I had only heard about you from all of our mutuals, and didn’t think anything of it. Until one day—
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—and the rest is history.
@call-me-derbles Babygirl, my little bunny. You keep me sain. Your asks have me smiling every time I see one, and I wouldn’t ever have it any other way. Thank you for always keeping a smile on my face and never failing to make my heart jump for joy. You hold my heart in your hands, please be careful with it.
@mini-meanhoe SUMMER YOU ARE SO HOT MAN. I just needed to get that out there. But seriously, how the hell? But seriously seriously, you are a legend, let me kiss your face. Jokes jokes... unless. I’M KIDDING. I THINK. Thank you for always being hot and funny and angry all the time.
@jisungsjheekies Lin DUDE, LOOK AT US. I just got to meet you so we haven’t talked a lot yet, but I’m so hype to have talked to you at all. Also going back through the people I follow today made me realize that you were the first Stray Kids blog that I followed. Crazy right? Thank you for being the main source of my hype.
@lordseochangbin Mel my guy, why you gotta dip so soon after we met. I luh you man. It ain’t fair. But I’m glad you aren’t gone forever, even though you aren’t writing anymore, it’s nice to she you pop up every once in a while. Thank you for being the cool buddy™.
@hanniiesuckle17 H U N T E R you are my gIRL CRUSH MY DUDE. Literally I just wanted to talk about how perfect you are. That’s it. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
@lixiefe MAL MAL MAL. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. My precious little baby. You are so amazing and sweet and literally perfect? Why are you so nice?? I just wanted to show you affection even though we really don’t talk anymore. I still love you. Thank you for being so sweet even when it feels like we’re not the closest.
and the rest of you beautiful darlings:
@yangomangos @bruh-changbin @chanonymous @peaches-writes @mrbangchannie @chans-chair @zuzutherxichu @yunhoesss @ph0ebevix @jonghyuzn @x-woozi
AND THANK YOU TO ALL OF MY PRECIOUS ANONS!
🐉anon
🌙anon
noona anon
🐹anon
👑anon
Thank you all for getting me here ❤️
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Text
Pick A Side
Characters: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark
Word Count: 1,886
Warnings: angst, captain america civil war and sokovia accords spoilers
Request by @previouslyforgotten​: Alright this takes place during CACW and the reader is Tony’s daughter. He expects her to take his side but she takes Steve’s side. Maybe bc she thinks it’s right idk? But she’s like “I love you dad, but you can’t ask me to not choose what I think is right”?? And maybe make it buckyxreader. Or maybe Steve? Or whoever it doesn’t matter. But I’ve had this in my mind for awhile and I figured I’d ask.
Summary: You’re a Stark, so people expect you to take your father’s side on everything. When the Sokovia Accords are presented, you have a choice to make: will you take your father’s side or the side you believe in? What will it do to your family?
Squares Filled: captain america for my second card of @star-spangled-bingo​ // rivarly for my second card of @avengersbingo​ // balconies/rooftops for my second card of @happystevebingo​
Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.
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Being Tony’s daughter is something hard to live by. It holds a high standard for everyone who hears it. People expect you to show up to events, to be as smart as your father, to protect those when they ask, to be a hero even though you don’t know how to be one, and to make sacrifices that a normal eighteen-year-old wouldn’t dare to make. Being Tony’s daughter has put a lot of strain onto your life, but you knew one thing to be true: if you hadn’t been his daughter, you wouldn’t have met any of the people you live and work with.
And what wonderful people they are.
The person you grew closest to would have to be Natasha. She understands how suffocating Tony can be, so she offers you a place to rewind and let go of everything that is bothering you. She knows a bit too much about being trapped inside your own head, to have so many people relying on you to do the right thing and to show up and to be what they expect, and she takes that all away.
The person you love to have fun with is Bucky. He’s the one you go to when you need to get out of the house. Despite being trapped with HYRDA, he does know how to have a good time. He grew up in Brooklyn in the 1940s, he loves to dance, be outside, to hike, to be involved with nature in every way possible. He finds peace in doing that, and you love to join him.
The person you love to learn about magic is Wanda. She is always looking for an excuse to show off her powers, and you go to her whenever you want to learn about what she can do. She manipulates minds, and you admit to asking her to make you see what a world would be like if there were no problems and everyone is happy. It’s a delusion, but you just want to live at that moment even if it is for a few minutes. She’s loyal and trusting, and she’s a really good friend to count on.
The person you go to about knowledge is Thor. He knows everything about all the worlds in the Nine Realms. He introduced you to Heimdall who showed you what he can do. Thor is a crazy and silly friend, but his heart is always pure. He makes you laugh when you’re feeling sad, and you trust him with your life.
The person you go to about science is, of course, Bruce. The people you go to about athletic skills are Sam and Clint. The people you go to learn about the new world are Shuri and T’Challa. When you have an existential crisis is Vision. You have so many people to fall back on, and you are so grateful to have each of them in your life. Being Tony’s daughter allows you to have so many opportunities that not a lot of people are going to have.
Steve, though, well, he’s a completely different story. He’s all of those put together and more. He is your other half--when he hurts, you hurt. When he is passionate, you feel it too. When he cries, you want to sob. Everything you feel is because of him. He holds your heart like no one else does. He provides you with a home, safety, and comfort. You don’t just trust your life with the man, your life is the man. You live for him. You breathe for him. You fight for him. Everything you do is for him. Your love for him is so strong, you sometimes cry at night by yourself because you just get so overwhelmed with your feelings for him that it physically hurts.
You’re more like him in more ways than one. You have the exact same serum inside your body as he does, and that makes you the second Captain America to walk the face of the Earth. Everyone calls you Major America since you’re much younger than Steve, and Major is one rank below a Captain. As a joke, everyone thought it was funny to have your suit be just like his, but you’re not complaining. Captain America’s suit is very sexy and tight-fitting. Out of all the suits you’ve seen the team wear, Steve’s is the best. Although, you are a bit biased. Your love for him makes you think everything he does is sexy and right. You are caught in his web, and you’re not sure if you want to be untangled from it.
Yet, no one knows about you and him.
There are some suspicions, but nothing had been confirmed with most. Natasha, Vision, Thor, and Wanda know, but they don’t say anything about it. You tell Natasha everything, Wanda sees Steve in your mind when you picture complete happiness, Thor hears you ask Heimdall about Steve all the time when you’re with him, and Vision is just too smart not to know. They all keep your secret, but you’re not sure how much longer you two can go on without your father knowing.
You want to tell him, but you’re at a point in your life where you need to choose which side you want to be on; the side of justice or the side of family? The government wants to pass a thing called the “Sokovia Accords” that states they get to regulate people that have “superpowers” and dictate where they are needed and when they get to help. The events that led up to that were, of course, what happened in Sokovia with Ultron, the attack on New York with Loki and his alien army, the battle of Triskelion in Washington D.C when Bucky was the biggest threat there was at the time, and the most recent attack in Lagos, Nigeria between the Avengers and Brock Rumlow or Crossbones.
Tony picked the side the government is on along with Natasha, Rhodey, Vision, T’Challa, and the newest member, Peter Parker. Steve has the rest on his team. Everyone is waiting for you to make a decision, and it’s the worst decision you ever had to face. There is too much at state on either side, so you don’t exactly know what to do. Well, you do, but one of the two most important men in your life isn’t going to like it.
On one hand, Tony is your father, and he took you in after your mom died. He’s given you everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. He’s the best father a girl could ask for. He’s been there for you through thick and thin, and you owe him your life. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for that man.
On the other hand, Steve is the love of your life. Your soul combines with his making him the only person in the entire world who not only gets you but completely understands you. There are times where you don’t even have to say a word, and he knows what you’re going to say. It makes those emotional times go by very easily.
Your mind is telling you to pick your father’s side because he had your back and now its time for you to have his. However, your heart is telling you to pick Steve’s side because these accords will rip this team in two. Yes, a lot of people have died because of these attacks, but you also saved billions by preventing catastrophes. If it weren't for you and your team, there would be aliens killing all of New York with a psychotic maniac as their leader, Ultron would have wiped out humanity so that he could start fresh wit obedient robots at his feet, and many more attacks.
These accords aren’t what’s good for your team and humanity, and like you said earlier, one of two most important men in your life just isn’t going to be happy with what you pick.
“Y/N, it’s time to make a decision. Are you going to sign or not?” your father asks.
All eyes are on you inside the conference room. You’re legally allowed to make this kind of decision, and since you have the same serum in your body, you have a say whether or not these accords are going to be a law or not. Tears threaten to spill over your eyes as you grasp the paperwork in your hand. He’s going to hate you, you can feel it.
“Y/N?” Tony asks once more.
“I love you, Dad,” you begin with a cracked voice and end with a whisper, “but you can’t ask me to not choose what I think is right. I’m sorry, I’m not signing.”
You push the paper away just as a few tears rolled down your cheek. You can’t seem to look at your dad in the eyes because you know you’ll see the hurt, anger, and betrayal you have left on his soul. Steve knows how hard this is on you, so he takes matters into his own hands.
“You’re not being serious right now, right?” your dad asks angrily.
“Tony don’t do this. You know she did what she thought was right,” Steve steps in.
“Like hell, she isn’t. She’s only doing this because she’s fucking you,” he snaps.
More tears spill over your eyes as you got up and hastily leave the room. This is painful as it is, you don’t need your father telling everyone that he thinks you only did this because you’re shacking up with the head leader of the other side. You don’t know where you’re going, but as soon as you take a step outside, you let out a loud sob. You’ve walked right onto a balcony, and you’re grateful no one is going to see you breaking down. Your knees buckle and you almost fall, but familiar and strong arms catch you before you hit the ground.
“He hates me,” you sob into Steve’s chest.
He brings you over to one of the patio chairs and sets you down on it.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Steve sighs.
“I can’t choose his side. I can’t believe that these accords are a good thing for us. Fighting against them is the right thing to do, and I hoped he’d just see that. I didn't even know he knew. God!” you sob more.
Steve doesn’t know what to say that would make you feel better right now. Instead, he decides to hold you, comb his fingers through your hair, and make sure you know that he isn’t going anywhere right now. It’s not fair how your father is treating you, but he’s going to make sure you understand you have someone on your team to back you up.
These accords are a bad thing, and if you can get everyone on your father’s side to see that, then maybe you can start the process of healing.
However, you know you’re never going to get to that stage because just like you, your father is a very stubborn man. You’re not sure what’s going to happen with the two of you after this is over. One side has to win; you just hope it doesn’t destroy the relationship you have with your dad.
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ethelphantom · 5 years
Text
The Greatest Miracle
This fandom does not have enough BartAdrien content like, seriously. They're the cutest thing to ever exist. Two sunshine children. Please love them. Please love my greatest creation. Anyway, have some cuteness and fluff and (possible? I have no idea if it is funny) humour for a change! Maribat March day 22, rare pair
Ao3
This is Maribat -- Don’t like; Don’t read
____________________________
“Please don’t.”
“Oh, Adrien. I totally will.”
❋❋❋
“Hey, Bart, give my tablet back! I need it for my speech!”
“Nooopppe! I may not be able to open it but I know what kind of things there are! Kon, catch!”
“Thanks, Bart. Have fun. You forgot I’m also doing the speech. You literally asked me to.”
“Dang it.”
❋❋❋
Marinette snorted as Adrien took one look at her before burying his face in his hands as she stood up, Tim and Conner following suit. She grabbed the microphone from the stand nearby and blew a kiss at Adrien, winking.
“Good afternoon everyone! It’s a beautiful day, even more beautiful than Adrien’s hair, and we all know how beautiful his hair is, soooo… Anyway, before I actually get to any important part, I need to say that I asked Adrien if there was anything that I shouldn’t say in any case, and well. He didn’t say anything in particular, I swear. To everyone else, I’m sorry if this makes your idea of Adrien’s supposed put-togetherness just vanish in front of your eyes. I can promise you, it never existed in the first place.
“I can’t believe this day actually came, seeing Adrien get married to someone,” Marinette said, smiling when she heard the quiet “rude much?” coming from Adrien’s direction. “Oh yeah. In case some of you didn’t know, I’m Marinette, Adrien’s best friend, though I’m pretty sure the only ones who don’t know that are from Bart’s side as Adrien has somehow managed to introduce me to his entire family, all of his few friends — and Adrien, before you say anything, you met most of your friends through me, don’t try — and we went to the same school so there’s that as well. Honestly, I think he’s even dragged me to a few family reunions during the years.”
There was laughter in the crowd but it quieted down as soon as Marinette began talking again.
“Adrien and I have gone through thick and thin. There have been liars, bullies, gold-diggers, over-eager wannabe journalists… Well, we’ve probably seen anything you can imagine. We’re siblings in all but blood, rather literally. My parents even adopted him after Gabitch — I mean, Gabriel, all parents of little children, you did not hear that, and neither did you, Bart, Wally and Dick, but like seriously, if there's anyone that deserves to be called out for being a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad father in a wedding, it's that man —, was arrested. It was easier since that meant he wouldn’t need to transfer schools.”
Marinette tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek. “Wait a second. Tim, dear, did you have the tablet connected to the projector already? I want the photos, like, five minutes ago.”
Tim laughed at her. “Cuppie, you started the speech less than three minutes ago. But yeah, it’s connected.”
“Shush, you. Thanks! I’ll say when I want the pictures. Anyway. I met Adrien when we were like, 13, and it really didn’t start great. I hated him at first. Like, honest to God hated him. You can imagine how the rest of the day went. Somehow, he cleared the idea I had of him within a few hours though, so we became friends. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had, always been there for me through everything.
“I don’t think I’ve got too much time to speak even though I’d absolutely love to do that for the rest of the day because Adrien’s gonna murder me if I try, so I’ll just tell you one of my favourite things with him. Who everyone knew him on some level when he was 17?”
Maybe a quarter of the room raised their hands.
“Great. How many of you noticed he had a crush then?”
Less than half of those people raised their hands, though rather hesitant.
“Fine, Adrien, you win, but that just means they didn’t spend enough time with you. Anyway. He had a crush on our dear Bart over here though he kept denying it for ages. Tim, the pictures, please? Because I’ve got a compilation of how he looked like when I felt like pointing the fact out to him and after I had actually informed him of his crush. I have no idea how he didn’t realise it right away.”
There were pictures of clearly lovesick Adrien, looking at something (a lot of the time it seemed to be his phone) the same way he had looked at Bart only some time earlier.
Someone in the crowd yelled “he was so whipped oh my god, did he really not realise?” when they got to the fifth photo.
Adrien had hidden his face in Bart’s hair.
He was lucky Bart’s hair was like it was.
Bart, though, he was laughing.
“Yeah, yeah he was, and me neither. He literally had a gay panic after he met Bart for the first time — trust me when I say that he was royally screwed already from day one. And yet. Yet. Considering Adrien had known me for only a day or two when he decided he was in love with me when we were like 13 and actually declared this in front of a whole bunch of people, it’s so funny how it took him actual months to admit he was actually in love with Bart. Fun fact, the three of us—” Marinette pointed at herself and then at Tim and Kon on her left, “still have a group chat full of plans to get those two together because they were so oblivious, especially Adrien, and also idiots. God, do I love them, but I swear they caused me more grey hair than the wild kid I babysat as a teenager ever did.”
Tim snatched the microphone from Marinette’s hands, pecking her cheek quickly. Marinette stuck her tongue out at him but didn’t complain about the interruption. It wasn’t like she had anything important left to say anyway. For now.
“Yes, listen to my beautiful and wonderful wife over here. They were so frustrating, always talking about the other like they had hung the moon and the stars on the night sky but neither realised they liked the other until it was pointed out to them. Well. According to Mari, it took until Kon and I got Bart to realise he liked Adrien, which eventually led to him confessing, that Adrien recognised his own feelings. It’s ridiculous, but oh so amusing to tell now.
“So, hello everyone, I’m Tim, one of Bart’s best friends — the other is over there being a loser. I met Bart through Dick and Wally maybe half a year after Bruce started watching over me because my parents were never there, so we must have been seven or eight. I had troubles with befriending other people back then—”
“You still do, Tim.”
“Mari, this is my speech, yours ended already.”
“Yeah, because you stole the mic.”
“Technicalities, technicalities. Anyhow, I had trouble with getting friends around that time, but it was somehow easy to befriend Bart. He was so open, friendly, positive, full of light and determined to befriend you that it was actually impossible to avoid it. After I befriended him, though, I noticed I started getting other friends as well because he made it easier. That’s actually also how I met Mari, the love of my life and my wife, which has me forever thankful to Bart, but that’s a story for another time. Right now, I’m here to tell you how great Bart is and also make fun of him, because isn’t that what best friends are for.
“So, like Mari already said, we had a group chat just because of those two. Favourite ship ever. Not gonna lie, we all shipped them together since the moment we realised how well they would fit together and the only reason today didn’t happen sooner is because this guy here—” Tim pointed at Adrien, “—refused to admit he liked Bart and scoffed every time we tried to suggest it. Yet, every time he made a terrible pun, and we all know he makes a lot of those, it was Bart he looked at first to see if it made him laugh. Always. Not his best friend, Mari. It was Bart.”
That was when Tim lost the microphone — Kon had walked up to them, now behind Tim, and just took it out of his hands. Tim tilted his head backwards and frowned at Kon.
“And Bart. Bart laughed every. Single. Time. Like, regardless of how horrible the pun was that time, and how it should have not made anyone laugh, Bart laughed because he knew it made Adrien smile, and happy Adrien equalled happy Bart equalled happy Adrien. This is why it was so strange they didn’t realise, and this is why them dancing around one another drove me up the wall. Tim and Mari too, I suppose. By the way. Here’s a list of pictures and videos where the aforementioned situation is shown multiple times so that you’ll understand what I mean.”
The (seemingly endless, if Adrien’s mortification was anything to go by) videos and pictures were projected onto a big screen and it seemed that no matter what Adrien thought, everyone else thought them adorable and heart-warming. Everyone. Especially Bart, who had not been aware of said pictures or videos’ existence and was now beaming and nearly jumping up and down in his seat. Marinette could almost swear he was vibrating.
Once they were done showing them, and the roomful of people had stopped cooing at Adrien like he was still that starry-eyed, adorable, baby-faced fool so very in love with Bart (he was), Kon brought the microphone to his lips again. “So yeah. We all had to suffer. And because of that, now you two had to suffer a little too,” he said, snorting.
Shaking his head fondly at the newlywed couple, he smiled. “You know, I have known Bart for nearly my entire life, and I never thought there would come a day I would meet anyone that was as much of a sunshine child as he was. Then we met Adrien.”
Tim nodded in the background, clearly agreeing. Marinette hummed. Kon handed her the microphone as she tapped her foot against the floor with her heel. “Yeah, same here, though the other way around — I thought there couldn’t be anyone I’d call sunshine incarnate other than Adrien, and then there I was, face to face with Bart who I swear glowed when I met him for the first time.”
Marinette sighed, smiled, and walked to Adrien and Bart. “So, Adrien, Bart, I am so immensely proud of you two. I can’t help but be happy whenever I think about you both overcoming so much and deciding to dedicate yourselves to one another and believe me when I say, I am so glad I got to witness you exchanging vows today. I wish all the best for you, as do those two dorks, and remember that we’re all going to be there for you both. You have two souls but a single thought, and two hearts that beat as one. This is the day that now belongs to one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life and I could not be happier to have gotten to see it happen.” She raised her glass. “A toast to these two fools and to their union! May you always be satisfied!”
Marinette returned to her seat next to Tim and rested her head against his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair.
“I’m happy for them,” Marinette whispered, watching as Adrien danced with Bart, leading him, before Bart grabbed Adrien and picked him up before running around the room, presenting him like the greatest miracle ever granted for the humankind to everyone. Marinette squeezed Tim’s hand, smiling at their best friends.
“Same, Cuppie. Same here.”
_____________________________________
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haikyuuscreaming · 5 years
Text
hi um so no one requested this but like i went through something basically like this and cried a whole lot about it and i dont think its even that angsty or makes sense but i just barfed it up as a vent fic so haha funny imi’s stupid and writes about her emotional exhaustion as an x reader 
heres an unrequited iwaizumi x reader :D (SORRY THIS ISNT FDSKFJ this isnt really a tumblr drabbles its more of an ao3 oneshot so)
(also sorry if none of the fic makes sense or flows well,,, i just wanted to get this out)
-
Ever since your first day at Kitagawa Daiichi, you found yourself with a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.
You couldn’t help it. As soon as you saw him in your school-orientation group the week before school started, you couldn’t help but feel something more than a friendly glow. You were already sitting with your orientation group, but once you saw him join the group (albeit sort of late), your stomach practically flipped with butterflies.
He even sat down next to you.
The rest of the orientation went more than fine. Your delight when Iwaizumi started conversations with you was absolutely immeasurable. Even when your group was performing normal get-to-know-you activities, your heart seemed to race every time he made eye contact with you.
“Your name’s [Surname] [Name], right?” Iwaizumi asked, tapping his pencil against his desk. The orientation paper had asked for the names of three people in your group.
“Yeah.. and you’re Iwaizumi Hajime…?” You didn’t really need to question it, but you did so anyway to be polite.
“Mhm. Uh-- sorry, how do you spell your name?” Your heart picked up its pace once you heard him attempt to spell it out. To your feeble, gleeful surprise, he spelled it right.
“Oh! Um, that’s actually how you spell it. Thanks.”
“No problem.” He smiles at you and your seventh grade self felt like beaming brighter.
His impression on you had lasted.
In fact, that first impression on you had made your school year much better somehow.
Initially, you wanted to go to Yukigaoka with your best friends, but you ended up getting into Kitagawa Daiichi. You were miserable at the prospect of going into a school without your best friends that had been with you through thick and thin, but you lit up once you saw your schedule and found you had quite a few classes with Iwaizumi.
Throughout middle school, you made new friends and became close with Iwaizumi and his friend Oikawa Tooru. They eventually became one of your primary friend groups: you and them. Your number one best friend though, you found, was a new friend you made, Hanae.
Maybe the first mistake you made was telling her that you had a crush on Iwaizumi.
Okay, well, you didn’t tell her- she found out? Forced it out of you? Either way, not a big deal, you two are basically sisters now. But you did kind of wish she would stop mentioning it so much.
“Look, [Name]-chan~” she would always laugh and point at him discreetly whenever he was in the vicinity. “It’s your future boyfriend.”
It was always the same, every time.
“Would you shut up,” you complain, smacking her shoulder lightly which earned a laugh from her. “He could be listening!”
“Just telling the truth~” Hanae would always flash a smile back.
Things changed, though.
On a hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you noticed their glances at each other-- Iwaizumi's being weary, while Oikawa’s was cheeky and sly.
“Hey, what are you two smiling about now?” you laugh lightly. The varied stares they gave you made you quiet down. “No, seriously, are you keeping secrets?”
“Of course not,” Oikawa chimes in. “Iwa-chan has big news though!”
Your heart rate spikes a little bit and you feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. And you're blushing too. Under Iwaizumi's warm, sharp gaze, you feel like melting under his radiance. “Eh? Haji, spit it out!!” Your anxiety falsely passes off as intrigue and excitement.
Flushing a little bit, Iwaizumi scratches his neck and smiles at you, “I wanted you to be the second to know, I have a girlfriend.”
You're shell-shocked.
If Oikawa picks up on it, he doesn't say so. “Seeee, [Name]-chan, I know we didn't believe it, but Iwa-chan finally snatched himself a girl!” Iwaizumi responds with a swift punch to the gut.
“I….” you can't find the words. You force yourself to smile like it's the only thing you can do. “Haji, that’s amazing!! Who is it? I didn't even know you had a crush…” Your voice falters but you push your words out as if your life depended on it. How did you manage to sound so genuinely happy when it felt like your entire world was about to crash?
Iwaizumi flushes again and you feel jealousy seep in. You so wish it was you that he blushes for. “Haha, yeah. Oikawa didn't know either for once; I didn't tell anyone, you know? Wasn't really sure yet. But it’s Aika-chan.” The way his face lights up burns a hole in your heart.
He even uses -chan for her. How special. The bitter envy feels like acid rising in your throat, and you feel queasy. Like you could keel over, cry, and puke out your guts.
“Ohhh, Aika-san is cute,” you make yourself say.
(Honestly, you're so good at lying and saying this wrong but right bullshit, you’d think you're a sociopathic robot or something.)
“Mmm… don't get jealous though, [Name]-chan, you're cuter!” Oikawa hums and you laugh loudly, hoping that you'll fake it till you make it. “Tell her how it happened, Iwa-chan. It was hilaaarious.”
The poison in you burns harsher but you nod along.
“Don't tell me what to do, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi bites almost playfully, before meeting your blank gaze with his kind, gently blazing eyes that always made you weak. Right now, you were not weak in the good way. “Aika-chan confessed to me yesterday near the sakura tree after we had class together… and I don't know, I guess it really clued me in that the feelings I had were real.”
(Iwaizumi looks so happy and content that it makes you want to be happy too, but you honestly feel like doing nothing but crying.)
“Aww, that's so sweet~” Your voice gets softer and you hate yourself so much for sounding weak.
But before either boy can reply, the panic and agony sets in. You feel your eyes glass up and your body tense, and your mind is begging you not to break down.
Unfortunately, they both notice.
“[Name]-chan? Are you okay?? You look kinda sick~” Oikawa sounds cheery and playful but his eyes convey an undercurrent of worry.
And bless Iwaizumi’s stupidly handsome oblivion, he blinks at your worriedly and puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Do you need to go to the nurse? School’s still open I think, and it's right around the corner-”
Fuck him and his mind-meltingly handsome everything. Just his voice and his sharp gaze makes you want to cry harder and collapse to him.
“I-I have to go, sorry guys,” You fucking despise how cracked your voice is becoming as your facade slips. “I promised Hanae that I'd go get bubble tea with her. See you Monday.”
Eyes stinging, you turn as quick as you can and ignore their confused voices.
(The tears flow like acid and you feel like dissolving from the inside out.)
Months pass and you deny your horrifyingly strong yet compressed feelings.
You greet Aika and Iwaizumi in the hallways, and you know that you're happy because Iwaizumi is, and that's honestly all you could ask for your long-time crush (turned bitter love). You even talk to Aika freely during shared classes, just to disguise your depressing jealousy.
Every time you see them share a discreet kiss or grip each other's hands, you genuinely wish you were dying. It sure feels like you are.
(Like you're drowning, like your lungs are burning up and you're begging for oxygen, begging to breathe in Iwaizumi's love that's reserved for someone else. It hurts a lot but he's happy.)
(So you have to be happy.)
Hanae spares you sympathetic looks. “Come on, wifey-chan, you're married to meee. Get over him, he doesn't deserve you if he chose Aika the troll over you.”
“That's mean,” you sigh and crumble onto Hanae. “Aika-san’s nice. And pretty. And talented. It's no wonder Haji would choose her.”
“Stopppp! You’re so much more than Troll-chan, okay?!?” Hanae’s pep talk is brash, but you appreciate the charm. “If Iwaizumi-kun doesn’t see that, I’ll punch him.”
You laugh lightly at the fact that Hanae had talked to Iwaizumi enough to be calling him kun, but your voice is still heavy despite the sentiment. “You're so weird. But that's why I love you.”
“Of course you do~”
On another innocent hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you’re met with abrupt news.
“Aika and I broke up.” Iwaizumi mutters softly.
“Eeeeh?!” You’re shell-shocked again, but you'd be lying if you said you were crushed like last time. “But-- but you guys were doing so well! You were the cutest couple!”
“She broke up with him over text,” Oikawa chimes in and you gape as Iwaizumi punches him again. “Two days ago.”
“She what-”
“She said she wasn't ready for a relationship,” is all Iwaizumi says.
You feel heartbreak and burning pity boil inside of you. “I-I’m so sorry, Haji… you didn't deserve that. You'll find someone better.”
Me. It's me, I promise I won't break your heart the way she did, because you're all I ever wanted.
He nods and for the first time in a while, he hugs you tight. “Yeah..”
It breaks you because it feels so good, his embrace warming you.
But it breaks you more to hear him whisper, “I can’t get over her though.”
(You just wanted him to be happy but he can’t. You can’t fix it.)
“You will,” you breathe out, trying not to let the tears slip. “You’re gonna be okay.”
(You know you’re not.)
But you don’t say that when you feel Iwaizumi’s shaky breath and him muttering, “Thanks.”
“Oh my god, [Name], did you hear about Hajime-kun?” Hanae’s alarmed voice three days later makes you concerned.
First of all, Hajime-kun-- “W-What? What happened now??” Nonetheless, panic still seeps into you.
“Aika broke up with him!!” Hanae seems so worked up over this and you wonder, how close is she to him? “Can you believe it?? She really threw away one of the best people in school!”
Shouldn’t I be saying that…? “Yeah, I know…” you try not to sound too bitter. “But like, it’s not really her fault she wasn’t ready for a relationship..”
Hanae huffs and crosses her arms, leaning onto you. “Well, I mean you’re right, but she shouldn’t have signed herself up for it if this was gonna happen. I feel so bad for him.” You’re about to layer on your argument, but Hanae straightens up and smirks. “See, your man’s single. Shoot your shot!”
“Right after a break-up?? Hanae, you’re batshit crazy-”
“Uh, well, make him like you, then shoot your shot!”
Your head and heart kind of hurts from all this talk about Iwaizumi, no matter how smitten you are for him, so you just blindly nod and agree.
It works for the rest of the day until you get home and cry into your pillow, wondering what to do.
Hope is re-kindled into you.
Over the past two-ish months, post-breakup, you find that comforting Iwaizumi makes you feel much better than wallowing in your self-pity. It’s a win-win: you’re putting even more of his trust into you, you two are getting even closer, and this could quite possibly end up in a great situation.
You melt at the sight of Iwaizumi, and every day you can see happiness soak back into him. Every time he laughs at one of your stupid jokes or grins at you while you rant and complain, you feel like your heart stops out of complete adoration of how stunning he is in every way you can think of.
He isn't perfect, but you think he's the perfect match for you.
And one day, at a study “date” (you try very hard not to take that term to heart!!) at a café, Iwaizumi peers up from laptop and gives you his signature, gruff yet content smile and says, “You know, I don't think I need Aika anymore.”
(You want to kiss him.)
It’s honestly been a shitty time for you and your friends, you realize.
Hanae broke up with her boyfriend, as you would have figured over the past few weeks she’s been ranting to you about how annoying and clingy and overprotective he is, but you found that she broke up with him over text. Oikawa went through three girlfriends in a month, to which he pouted and whined about but you knew he was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to carry more burden. And there’s the whole heartache Iwaizumi thing, even though things have been getting relatively better.
(You also realize amongst all your friends, you’re the only one who’s stayed very, very very single. You hope that’ll change soon.)
Things are going absolutely amazing with Iwaizumi. Even Oikawa’s been smirking at you and teasing you about your “true love” (to which you frustratedly deny but you honestly know that it’s just the truth when you consider your feelings for him). The two of you have felt confident enough to spend time with each other at your respective homes without feeling awkward or the need to have Oikawa there to provide a third wheel. You couldn’t wish for anything more.
So now you’re at a family-friend’s party, lounging on the couch away from the scene, on your phone. It’s so loud, but you’re content and refreshed on all the snacks you’ve practically been inhaling. Your phone pings in your hand and you glance up at the notification you’ve just received.
Oh, a text~
It’s from Hanae.
poopy hanae >:)): [name] are you busyyy
YOU: no not really
YOU: just at a party
poopy hanae >:)): OH okay so um can i tell you something but
poopy hanae >:)): i dont want you to get mad or sad ...so please let me just finish my texts
YOU: ?? yea go ahead , ill wait for you to finish :)
You feel kind of nervous once she puts it like that, but you let her continue.
poopy hanae >:)): remember how after my break up i promised i wouldn’t fall for anyone else, not for a while yk? i promised that to me and him: i wouldn’t let my heart get broken or whatever. but i found out that i don’t think i’ve ever really fallen for my ex. i think i just dated him because i felt bad and felt like i had to date him because i didn’t wanna reject him… but it happened still. but i think i’m in love now. honestly.
poopy hanae >:)): i’ve never felt this way around any guy before, not my ex, not anyone. everytime i see him my heart goes crazy, and i want to talk to him all the time. he’s just so perfect in every way. he’s so smart, he’s handsome as hell, he’s strong and caring… and i promised both of you i wouldn’t fall for anyone else but i broke that promise to him, you, and me. and i think you’ve figured out who he is now.
poopy hanae >:((: i’m sorry i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you because that would make our friendship weird but i hope now we’re at the stage where we will still be best friends regardless of him. i’m truly in love with iwaizumi hajime and i’m gonna confess to him on monday (tmr). i love him so much but i want you to know i love you more so he won’t ever get in the way of us. ily <3
The more you read the message, the more it makes you want to cry. Your hand starts trembling around your milk tea and you feel your face warm up, your eyes glassing over and your vision blurring. Stumbling your way into the bathroom, you lock yourself inside, staring at yourself in the mirror. You watch your delicate, shaking features in the mirror as the first bitter tear rolls down your cheek. More tears follow.
Sobs wrack your body and hot tears glide down your face, constantly, like a river. Whimpers escape you, and your lips are cracked and dry, and you keep thinking, Why would she do this to me?
YOU: ahaha it’s okay!!!
YOU: a boy shouldn’t get between us, ly :) make him happy
YOU: you desrvee him mroe than anbyody else
You cover your mouth with your shaking fingers in hopes that the others can’t hear you outside over the music.
You pretend it’s fine the next day at school.
Hanae doesn’t even mention it, but she hugs you a lot more and keeps whispering, “I love you”. The bitterness has sunken in a little bit and you resist the urge to tell her, It doesn’t change the fact that you broke me, but you figure that it’ll be okay.
You’ll just lose your feelings for Iwaizumi so she doesn’t have “competition”.
(It turns out to be harder than you think.)
When you see Iwaizumi at lunch, his smile never fails to make you flush a little bit and make you feel so warm and comfy. When he sits down next to you (!! ahhh!) since Hanae was in line for lunch, he makes a sigh-grunt noise as he nestles his chin into the crook of his palm. Oikawa, bless his dumb ass, sidles down next to you, making a dramatic sigh.
“Did you know Hanae-chan confessed to Iwa-chan today?”
You try so, so SO hard not to tense. “Yeah. She told me a few days ago that she- she was in love with him.”
(The way your voice cracks at “in love” is pathetic, you think.)
You don’t miss the way Oikawa’s face briefly flashes a frown at you before morphing back into his signature pretty-boy smile. Iwaizumi looks a little embarrassed to be talking about this but he nods. “Yeah, she pulled me aside right before lunch and… yeah. It was so embarrassing…” You’re in fucking awe of how cute he is even when he’s distressed, but you remind yourself (with a pang of bitterness) that you aren’t supposed to think that anymore.
“And I turned her down,” Iwaizumi continues, and your ears almost fucking pop at the noise. He- how, what? Why? “‘Cause I don’t know, I never really felt that way about her. I guess that’s why she’s been talking to me more and more lately. She said she understood if I wasn’t ready to move on ‘cause of Aika and stuff, but.. she said something like she’ll change my mind.” He snorts and murmurs, “I don’t think that’ll happen, honestly.”
Oikawa laughs, a peppery laugh accompanied with a side-eyed glance towards you. “Iwa-chan, you’re such a brute~ You sure that’s the only reason you turned her down?”
Iwaizumi lets out a snort again. “Yeah.. I’m over Aika now, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Plus, there isn’t anyone that I like like now. Hanae doesn’t stand out.”
The statement makes you crumble on the inside.
You idiot of a best friend. What good are you if you don’t stand up for Hanae?
But it doesn’t matter! He said he has no interest in anyone, including you. Or her. It’s pointless, futile. He never even considered you.
You’re so stupid, so worthless sometimes. You’re the worst. It doesn’t matter if you would go to the end of the world for Hajime. You have to give this up for her. Fight for her because he would never settle for someone like you.
You fight back the sob crawling in your throat, as your self-loathe and intrusive thoughts rain in. You try so hard not to let it get to you, but still-
It’s what Hanae deserves for putting up with you.
“You should give her a chance,” you force a small smile. “I mean, she’s pretty and smart, you know?”
Oikawa gives you a pitying gaze before Iwaizumi shakes his head, his cheek now pressing against his palm. “Nah. I don’t like anyone in that way now, and it’s gonna stay like that for a while, I’d think.”
He doesn’t like anyone in that way.
You shrug and nod, “Fair enough,” but your voice is so much smaller. You love Iwaizumi Hajime so much, and he’s always been your everything. From his habits to his comforting demeanor and his entire profile, he’s always infatuated you and you know that no matter how hard you deny it for anyone, you will never let go of the feelings that shackle you to him like chains.
You love him so much.
But I guess I’ll never win.
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