#i feel like there should have been another tw tag but i forget
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sibkisses · 4 months ago
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why do i love the idea of gilbert x shota ludwig?? just a brotherly relationship taken toooo far! > < uhggrfgg ruffled hair turns into red faces and “extended playtime”
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prettycottagequeer · 8 months ago
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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)
SO these I should start on asap:
50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make
100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week
150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)
200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)
these can wait longer:
300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect
500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)
1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks
2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.
Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese
here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)
How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks
I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.
that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.
the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.
On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started
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sehodreams · 9 months ago
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sex money feelings die - fifth visit
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
fourth visit ↬ fifth visit ↬ sixth visit (tba)
WC: 5.5k
TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, masturbation, lots of silly conversations.
Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.
You carried his card everywhere, you hadn’t call him, but you liked to watch it every time you opened your wallet.
A music producer, you repeated on your mind. It fitted him, he always knew what songs you talked about and even gave you options you listened from time to time when you remembered him.
Still, you couldn’t understand what he was doing coming to a place like Shotaro’s club, you were sure he could easily get a pass in any other club that had his favorite drinks in the menu, and he wouldn’t have to carry his own every time he visited, unlike the place you worked at.
Not that your club was ugly, it had good clients, all of them coming to see you and your gorgeous coworkers, but you had heard of better places that let them do more to the girls, some of them even allowed them to request sexual services, something they would never get here.
Anton had been the only one until now, and you didn’t like the thought of how it all started, but at least Anton had been respectful with you and hadn’t touched you until you asked for it.
You blushed.
You couldn’t forget what had happened on Monday.
Every time you went to sleep you would remember how his long fingers felt inside you and how good he looked under you. The taste of his mouth and the wine was also impregnated on your tongue, not daring to look at a bottle of wine even if none of them were like his.
‘’Is there anything wrong?’’ one of the girls asked when she saw you all lost looking at your phone.
‘’Oh, it’s nothing, just a little tired, and now we’ll have to entertain the pretty boys, I was thinking what to drink to survive the night’’ you smiled and exhaled. It was Friday and they would arrive in a couple of hours.
She nodded, ‘’Yes, but I heard Anton had something to do, I don’t think he’ll come today.’’
‘’Who told you that?’’ you asked confused.
‘’My boy told me the last time they came that Anton and another of his friends may not come today since they had a big meeting or something like that, and they couldn’t move it.’’
You nodded to it, bewildered since Anton hadn’t say a single word when he came on Monday. ‘’I see, well, I guess I should get ready for a show then’’ you tried to not look too surprised.
She stood up and walked out, leaving you alone in the room, and when you felt that no one would come in, most of them grabbing a quick snack in the kitchen before the doors opened, you grabbed your phone and introduced his number.
You watched it on your screen, the many digits intimidated you and you thought about just not calling him, but your finger pressed the green bubble before you could choose.
Not even three rings sounded, and he answered. ‘’Hello?’’ his voice sounded deeper through the phone, more serious than the usual soft tone he used with you, and you almost got weak in your seat.
Biting the inside of your cheek your breath flattered and you felt the nervousness creep behind your back before you could talk, ‘’Hi’’ was the only thing you could say.
‘’Hi’’ his voice changed to the same tone he always used with you, you even heard how he let out a relaxed sigh, making you picture him with his typical soft grin. ‘’I was waiting for your call’’ he murmured.
‘’Yeah well, Shotaro finally told me how much the cleaning fees are.’’
Shotaro hadn’t even spoken to you about it, the only thing he did when he saw it was shrug, shake his head, look at you and walk away, leaving you there next to Sungchan who looked at you and murmured, rich people wine smell different, uh? making you nod before you ran away to hide your blush.
‘’Oh really? And how much is it?’’ he asked, honestly curious.
‘’Are you sitting? Because you may pass out, they will leave you broke.’’
You heard his breathy laugh on the other side of the line.
‘’I’ll make sure to ask for a discount then.’’
‘’I think you should, I can go with you to his office today if you want, he kind of owes me one for teaching the new waitress the basics.’’
Silence.
You gulped and started to bite your cheek again, nervous to not hear him smoothly talk like he always did.
He hummed before he continued, ‘’I think we’ll have to postpone that, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to go today. I have an important meeting tomorrow and all my team is staying the night to check the last details.’’
You tried to not sound disappointed, ‘’I see’’.
Recognizing that hint of sadness in your tone, he blamed himself for not telling you sooner, ‘’Sorry, I wanted to tell you when we met this Monday but… well, you know we didn’t talk much.’’
‘’Oh.’’
Anton closed his eyes, and his smile came back to him because he knew you were blushing, there, alone, waiting for him, and his hand gripped his phone trying to not remember you that day, he had too many people waiting for him behind the door in front of him to get swayed your way and risk a whole deal just to go and see you for a couple of hours.
But he couldn’t lie to himself, he was already thinking about you even before you called him. He had gone out for a bottle of water when you popped his mind and didn’t let him concentrate on what one of his workers was saying, and just like a miracle his phone had started to sound inside his pocket before he entered the room after deciding to go back and completely forget you to focus on his work again. The screen showed an unknown number, and even if he didn’t know who it belonged to, it made his heart skip before he answered with the hope it was you who called.
‘’I’ll see you this Monday, promise, but meanwhile, do you mind if I call you later? And that means, tomorrow, and the day after, and maybe Monday too.’’
‘’I do mind, if you wake me up, I’ll block you’’ you denied.
He chuckled and nodded, already used to your sharp answers. ‘’Then what about a text?’’ he offered.
‘’Better, but please don’t forget about your debt, the poor couch suffered because of us so I’ll ask for the discount, don’t worry.’’
‘’This girl…’’ his breathy laugh sounded for a couple of long seconds, making you smile, happy of being the cause of it, ‘’I already paid him.’’
You covered your mouth, so he didn’t hear you chuckle, and hanged up.
Choosing your outfit for the night, you tried to think on anything else that wasn’t how you wouldn’t be able to see him later. It was good, you tried to convince yourself, there were many clients that probably missed you those weeks, and you shouldn’t neglect them if you didn’t want to lose them.
Shotaro saw you in the bar having some small talk with the girls that served drinks and told you that you could go to the VIP room if you wanted, after all, one of the girl that accompanied Anton’s friend that wouldn’t come was still going, but you rejected the idea immediately, if he wasn’t there, you didn’t feel like staying the whole night with the group.
When his group arrived all the girls ran to the second VIP room, excited to see their favorite clients and have their fun, while Sungchan, seeing you go to the other direction, to the scenario, without much thinking said, ‘’Ow angel, won’t your pretty boy come tonight?’’
‘’He has work stuff, but better, I needed a break’’ you replied with a smile, and Sungchan, finding the disappointment you tried to mask with your uninterested tone adorable, patted your naked back before he followed the other girls.
Luckily the night ended fast, you did a couple of shows and one of your past regulars called you for a private dance, giving you a good tip saying how much he had missed you the last weeks, ‘’You’ll always be my favorite’’ he said, and you, by instinct, said that he was your favorite too, but you perfectly knew how much of a lie that was.
The night finished without much emotion and you went home as early as you could, it was only four in the morning when you were already standing in your door, two sandwiches in a bag courtesy of Sungchan charming the kitchen lady with his smile, and you accepted them gladly, relieved of not having to make breakfast for your brother, who was sound asleep in his room after studying until late.
Walking as silently as you could, you cleaned your living room a little bit, just tossing old packages and watching that there wasn’t nothing dirty. Your brother, even if he had an even worse schedule than you, always made sure to leave the place as clean as he could, and there wasn’t much for you to do, dishes washed, kitchen table clean and trash can empty.
You sat in the darkness and exhaled, feeling extremely alive for the hour and tired as hell because of the long trip at the same time.
After washing yourself you felt more at ease, hair wet and rolled with a towel because you couldn’t turn on the hairdryer at that hour, and you decided to do something you only did on special occasions.
You searched your client’s name, in this case Anton, online.
You got surprised with the quantity of results there, you had never had a client as famous as him, with so many profiles and articles with his name, it seems he had already produced a couple of popular songs, not many, but enough to let him have a name in the industry, and you, sitting in the border of your old mattress with what used to be a beige bedsheet, pale after so many washes, felt a struck of reality.
Why would he treat you so well when he could go and have an actual connection with a girl as popular, or even more than him, in real life?
You read as many articles as you could, not believing your eyes but at the same time smiling with the praises he had received despite his young age, all of them talking about the future he could (and will) have, a music producer in the company of his family, a life already bright enough to always let him go to bed in peace and never worry about tomorrow, and you did it until your alarm brought you back and you had to go and wake up your brother.
He was a heavy sleeper, you sometimes wondered how he would be able to live without you if he couldn’t wake up with the five alarms he put on his cellphone, but while you could, you would wake him up with pleasure.
Knocking his door, you went to the bathroom and started to dry your hair, thinking in what you would have to cook for dinner and leaving what you read about Anton well behind your mind, because if you remembered it every time you looked at him, you would start getting conscious of yourself, which would definitely change your tone with him, and wouldn’t let you talk as free as you’ve been doing until now.
Not much later you got exactly what you wanted, concentrating on your brother, his dinner and your own breakfast, with the help of the news in the background and the rush of the hour, you forgot him.
However, Anton must have a signal to go back and fill your mind with him whenever you completely forgot him, because when you were about to go to sleep after a long night and morning, ready to not think at all for at least the next five hours, you saw a text from him.
You saw it in real time how the little notification appeared while you watched a video, a message so short and direct that had you smiling and rolling your eyes before you decided to answer.
Are you awake?
You could ignore it and pretend you didn’t see it, but having the opportunity to tease him, you couldn’t lose it just like that.
Sleeping.
Nothing.
You waited for him to answer in the chat, there was no bubble moving showing that he was writing, but he did read it, it appeared like that, and he was online too.
You imagined him reading your message and nodding, thinking ‘’so she’s asleep…’’, ready to not bother you anymore, and you laughed, trying to guess how much time would take him to notice that you had lied.
Minutes passed by, and when you were finally drifting to sleep, your ringtone started to sound.
‘’…I hate you’’ he said when you accepted his call.
‘’Maybe I should hang up then.’’
‘’No’’ he interrupted you, ‘’It’s just… I really believed you for a second, I was ready to not bother you anymore.’’
His breathy laugh made you smile, and you decided to not tell him that you were actually about to sleep, and he had woken you up with his call.
‘’It’s pretty early, why are you calling me at this hour?’’ you didn’t sound angry, just intrigued, had he gone to his meeting? Was he calling you right before his meeting? You wanted to know what pushed him to talk to you at 8 am.
‘’I wanted to know how your night was, the boys told me you didn’t go to the VIP room.’’
You hummed, moving your phone closer to your ear, to hear him better. ‘’I wasn’t needed, the girls were just fine without me.’’
‘’You could’ve gone to rest a little bit, I still paid Shotaro for your time’’ he confessed.
‘’What?’’ you were so surprised you had to sit.
Shotaro hadn’t say anything to you when you left, well, not that you waited for him either, you just grabbed your share of the night and left the rest with Sungchan when he gave you the food.
The point was, you didn’t understand why Anton paid when he didn’t spend the night with you.
‘’Why?’’ you simply couldn’t understand.
‘’I wasn’t going to leave you just like that, it was the least I could do, to be honest, I wanted to give you even more for not seeing you last night, but I thought that maybe it would be a bit too much, even your boss looked at me weird when I said I would still pay.’’
‘’Anton…’’ you couldn’t believe how much he thought about you to do something like that.
And just like you were afraid of, you started to remember all the articles you read and how much they talked wonders about him.
A respectable young man ready to take the industry, and the world, in his hands.
They had no idea how awesome, and impressive, and kind, he really was.
‘’You didn’t have to do that, you didn’t see me yesterday, you got nothing out of that.’’
‘’But I wanted to, if I didn’t, I would’ve felt bad the next time I saw you, thinking how I made you lose your night just because I was busy.’’
‘’Anton, if you don’t come, I can still work’’ you tried to make him understand, ‘’the next time you don’t have to do that.’’
He didn’t answer.
You heard his breathing through the phone and your hand started to play with the border of your shirt. You didn’t know what to say, and suddenly you felt like you couldn’t talk with him like you had been doing, because you really were on different positions, and for you it didn’t make sense how he always had you in his mind and treated you that good when he could do a lot better.
‘’Well… then you won’t like what I bought for you to show how sorry I was.’’
‘’Anton!’’ you called his name louder than expected.
‘’I’m joking’’ he said, happy that you didn’t sound as tense anymore.
He didn’t have to see you to notice the little things about you, even your silence talked for you, and he had sensed how you suddenly got uncomfortable after he admitted how he had paid.
‘’Don’t you have a meeting?’’ you asked after he finished laughing at you.
‘’I already had it, everything went well, I guess talking to you last night gave me luck.’’
‘’Please stop.’’ You begged, not being able to endure his lines anymore.
Perhaps that’s why his songs are so popular, you thought, because you had never met someone able to create corny lines as fast as him.
‘’I was about to sleep, I wanted to hear you one last time before I passed out.’’
‘’I was about to sleep too.’’
He hummed.
You stayed in silence a minute, just hearing each other’s breathing and the bedsheets on his side ruffling with his movements. You were still on your place, only playing with your shirt and waiting for him to talk.
‘’There was something I wanted to talk about… you know, about what we did this Monday.’’
You gulped.
You didn’t expect him to talk about it, you didn’t expect a conversation about it at all.
‘’I wanted to say that… I don’t want you to think you have to do it because I pay you.’’
‘’I know’’ you were quickly to reply.
You did it because you wanted, not because of anything else, not because of the money, or the alcohol, or Shotaro, and you had worked hard to help you go around the next days with an easy mind. You were a big girl, and you could do that kind of thing without feeling guilty anymore.
Anton had been nothing but respectful to you all those days, and you couldn’t let him think that you did it for anything that wasn’t your decision based on how good he treated you.
‘’I think I made myself clear the first days’’ you continued, ‘’I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I didn’t want to.’’
‘’You’re right’’ he sounded relieved on the other side. ‘’Then… is it okay if we do it again? I mean, did you like it?’’
There was no one in your house, you were completely alone, and your door was closed, but you still whispered, as if you were about to say something wrong, or, more than wrong, inappropriate, something that no one else, apart from him, should hear.
‘’I liked it’’ you admitted.
‘’I’m glad, I liked it too.’’
Your mind started to reply that night.
Without thinking, like every night when you remembered it, your arousal started to appear, pouring out of you with the expectations of feeling him again. The image of him under you brought a pression in your abdomen you weren’t used to feel before that occasion, of course you had felt excited before, but the way Anton had showed you how capable he was of driving you into that kind of pleasure made it a lot more intense, almost painful and that made it impossible for you to not move uncomfortable on your seat.
You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, trying to control yourself and your mind from making you feel like that with him, not physically there with you, but still there.
‘’You’re thinking about it too, right?’’ he asked you.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how right he was.
‘’Are you?’’
‘’You have no idea how much I think about it, I do it every day, every hour.’’
Me too, you closed your eyes again hearing his voice say something so bold without feeling ashamed of it, he was using a different voice, it wasn’t the one he used when he tried to maintain a conversation with you in the club, or the one he used when he answered his phone when he didn’t know it was you who called him, it was deeper, a lot more mature and confident, like the one he used when he made you cum over his lap with his fingers inside you.
A whimper almost escaped your throat and you hided it with a cough, trying to think a way to change the aura of the conversation.
‘’I’m sure you’re getting wet, that day you were dripping all over my hand’’ he then said, and you couldn’t help but gulp again, the faint sound telling him everything he needed to know.
Anton imagined you lying down over his bed, right next to him, with your hand between your thighs, looking at him with those teary eyes, and that was enough for him to get hard.
Every day he imagined the same thing, you over his designer bedsheets, with the little light of his lamp beside his bed, your pretty face frowning and calling his name while your hand played with yourself, waiting for him in his apartment, getting ready for him to take you after a long day at work.
Just that occasion was enough to push the last little will he had to contain himself, he didn’t know how would he be able to face you and not touch you the next time he had you in front of him, but he wanted to leave everything clear before that, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed it as much as he did.
He needed you, and making him feel like a teenager again, every day he dreamed of you, he thought of you, and he jerked off with the memory of you.
‘’Anton…’’ your voice made him look down to his now hard member and groan.
‘’I want to hear you’’ his tongue had to wet his lips, dry of thirst for you, ‘’touch yourself, please.’’
He was begging with such urgency you didn’t know how to say no, and even more, you didn’t want to say no.
Your mind was already telling you to touch yourself like he had done that day, it wouldn’t be the same, you had already tried it those days without him, but it would help you soothe the pain.
‘’I don’t…’’ you wanted to confess how it wasn’t the same if they weren’t his fingers, but you felt your face burn just with the thought of it.
‘’I’ll tell you what to do’’ he interrupted you, ‘’so… will you be good for me?’’
Fuck, you wanted to be good for him.
‘’…Okay’’
Anton pulled down his pants and his underwear, just enough to leave his cock free, which jumped to the sound of you lying over your bed and getting comfortable for him.
‘’What are you wearing?’’ he asked, and just his voice made you get more wet inside your panties.
‘’A t-shirt… and panties.’’
‘’No pants? Isn’t it too cold for that?’’
You couldn’t tell him that you were more used to the coldness because of your work, you felt a lot more comfortable wearing just that at night, and thankfully your apartment was warm enough, it was old, but the winter was bearable.
In summer it was hell though.
‘’I can’t sleep with pants.’’
‘’I can’t sleep with t-shirts, I guess we’re the perfect pair.’’
You bit your lip to not laugh, but he knew you wanted to do it, so he laughed for you.
‘’I can give you all my t-shirts if you want, I don’t mind.’’
‘’Okay’’ you answered, surprising him. He expected you to tell him to stop, but that answer satisfied him even more.
‘’Okay’’ he repeated, ‘’that way, the next time you miss me, and I can’t be with you, at least you’ll have my t-shirt to think of me.’’
That sounded too good, he imagined you wearing his shirt and playing with your clit, drenching the back of it, and he liked the idea so much his cock bounced in front of his eyes.
You, on the other hand, only imagined how comfortable you would feel with his smell lingering around you at night.
‘’Now…’’ he interrupted your thoughts, ‘’don’t take it off, just lift it, as if you were showing me your chest.’’
You felt so embarrassed you just gripped your shirt, eyes closing with force and your mind telling you to follow his words but your conscience too awake and clear now to do it.
‘’I can hear you not moving, I thought you’d be good for me’’ he had already guessed you weren’t going to make the things that easy for him, but he still expected you to do better, for him, ‘’This is the only time in which I won’t tolerate you fooling me.’’
He was right, and feeling the weight of his words, your hand didn’t doubt to lift your t-shirt this time, feeling the morning coldness impact your whole torso, nipples slightly hardening.
He could hear your breath hitching and the fabric of your clothes moving, feeling content with you listening to him this time, maybe he had to be stern with you in bed, he thought, to show that he could play in any other moment, except that one.
‘’Well done.’’
You licked your lips while your eyelids fluttered with his words, you wanted him to continue talking to you like that, so forward and authoritative, as if he knew exactly what you needed.
‘’Play with your nipples, just like how you want me to touch them’’ his hand lifted his shirt to his abdomen, just to rest his hand over it and imagine it was you who was touching him.
You did what he said, and touching your right one with the tip of your finger, you decided it wasn’t how you wanted him to touch you, so to add more intensity, with your whole palm you grabbed your tit, too big for your own hand, and massaged it until your thumb and your index finger pressed your little bud with more force.
That’s how you want him to touch you, with more force, to not be as delicate, he wouldn’t break you, and when you closed your eyes, you could see his big hand cupping you completely without problem.
He heard you breathing get harder, not louder, just with more difficulty, and he could imagine those beautiful nipples begging for him to give them a taste.
The last time he couldn’t, but the next time he definitely would, he had no reasons to stop himself anymore.
‘’How do you feel?’’ he asked when he heard you sigh.
‘’Good, it feels good.’’
He cursed in his mind, what he would give to be there and touch you, and make you feel good with his own hands.
‘’Shit, you’re going to make me cum just with your voice.’’
You moaned.
‘’Don’t say that…’’
‘’Why?’’
‘’Because I want you to cum with me.’’
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Of course you’d drop a bomb like that one, he should learn by that point that you always surprised him for the best in moments like that one, so sweet, and tender, and perfect for him.
‘’Touch your clit, like I did that day’’ he said as he could, one hand going to wrap his member while his thumb spread the pre cum leaking in his tip.
It was already hurting him, but he was so focused on your voice he had forgotten about himself.
‘’It feels good’’ you moaned again, suddenly feeling your own fingers good, not like the previous night you had tried to touch you, it finally felt good.
‘’What I would give to be the one touching you right now.’’
‘’Anton‘’ you cried.
You were using just one finger, flicking your clit up and down and thinking it was him touching you.
‘’Don’t be afraid of using more than one finger, like I did, do it just like I did’’ he ordered, and you obeyed.
You tried to make the same motion, up and down, feeling your juices making a mess inside your panties.
He didn’t lie, you really were dripping for him.
It was so wet, you felt your fingers sliding with such ease over your clit, making you feel incredibly good.
You had touched yourself before, even before you knew Anton, you were human after all, but his groans on your ear and the memory of his hand instead of yours made it a lot better.
You didn’t understand what was so good about masturbating before, it was good, but this was fucking amazing.
You wanted to cup your chest again, just like he would’ve done it, like he did over your bra, but you needed to have your phone on your ear, his voice was more necessary than any light touch over your skin.
‘’Please touch my chest the next time.’’
The next time, he became numb, you were being so good for him, begging with that honeyed voice to touch you, he’d do it with much pleasure, but to hear you say it, to ask for his touch so directly, it was too much for him.
‘’I’ll touch you so good, my angel, I’ll do everything you want.’’
He didn’t mean it only for when he made you feel good with his hands, or his mouth, he honestly wanted to do everything for you.
‘’Put one finger inside.’’
You sighed disappointed, it felt good, but not like when he did it.
‘’It’s not like yours...’’
You heard him groan.
His hand stopped moving, feeling your pain through the phone.
‘’Oh angel, I’m so sorry, I’ll make sure to finger you well next time too.’’
‘’Yours are so long’’ you cried, putting one more in to simulate the size of his fingers.
It wasn’t enough, and soon you had not one or two, but three fingers, which were the closest sensation to his fingers that day, stretching you just like two of his fingers did.
When you put all those fingers inside the echo of your wetness got louder, pushing him to continue with the way his hand was moving before, swiftly pulling his cock like your delicate hand would do, with those pretty fingers around him and those beautiful eyes looking at him.
‘’How many do you have in?’’ he asked curious, because it was impossible just one finger was making that nasty noise.
You didn’t want to tell him how many, it was so disgraceful for a girl to use that many fingers, at least you believed that.
You cried again because something so degrading was feeling so good.
‘’Tell me.’’
He wouldn’t stop asking, you knew it, he would respect your silence in any other occasion, but not in this one.
‘’…Three.’’
‘’Shit, getting ready for my cock.’’
‘’Anton.’’ You called for him, flustered with his statement, and pushing your fingers even more with that idea.
He was big, you felt it that day, even just over his pants you could feel how much he would open you, your three fingers were nothing to get that, they had to be his fingers to stretch you enough to accept him.
‘’You’re about to cum, right? I already recognize that tone’’ he was pumping harder his cock, following the intensity of your squelches and how your hand was more erratic, ‘’fuck, and I’m not there to feel your mess, my angel.’’
You repeated his name in loud moans, grateful that you were completely alone, and his groans became as loud as your moans, reciprocating your enthusiasm.
He bit his lip with force, back falling with force to his pillow, picturing you moaning right over him like you did that day, and while thinking about you, and listening to your actual cries, he came all over his hand in thick spurs of cum.
You also came, a lighter sensation than when he fucked you so good with his fingers, but still good enough to make you feel relaxed again.
After days of not being able to cum you didn’t realize how tense you were, maybe that was why you were so thoughtful and couldn’t sleep even when you felt so tired.
Both of you stayed like that for a good time, recovering after all those days away.
‘’I missed you so much’’ Anton said when your mind was drifting away.
Me too, you thought, but didn’t say it.
‘’You’ll see me this Monday…’’
‘’I’ll buy you something.’’
‘’If you buy me something, I swear I’ll punch you.’’
‘’Oops, I think I’d like that too.’’
You laughed, not hiding it this time, and fell asleep while hearing his soft laugh on your ear.
When you saw him on Monday you punched him, not hard though, because apart from the couple of his t-shirts he gave you, he bought you a small bouquet of flowers to show how sorry he was.
fourth visit ↬ fifth visit ↬ sixth visit (tba)
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nanaminokanojo · 5 months ago
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ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 60
-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur
CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters
GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw
TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 60 next>>
A/N: There are narrations after the 4th panel and the fifth panel is a video.
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Ryomen Sukuna was one magnificent creature. You wouldn't let anyone contest you on that, not that you wished to convey your thoughts out loud for anyone to hear. You were happy thinking that way as you watched him play volleyball with his friends. Apparently, they all used to play in high school.
You didn't know a thing about the sport, the most you've watched it was when you're flipping channels through your TV, but the way he moved around the makeshift beach court keeping the ball afloat showed you yet another facet of him.
The object of your attention since the beginning of the game maneuvered his way around the sand with calculated dexterity and successfully scored another one by blocking the incoming ball and slamming onto the opposing team's court. You couldn't help but smile whenever he would get a point, your left hand curling into a fist when you should not be moving it or putting strain on it. You'd applaud if you could.
Sukuna was good looking, intelligent and athletic. No wonder girls chased after him, and you had to admit that he looked beyond cool when he's dishing moves. His friends were calling him rusty in volleyball, but to you who didn't have any idea what exactly was going on, he was just amazing.
But then, that wasn't all you were looking at. You can't exactly pay attention to the game itself when your eyes only trailed his figure. The sun beat down on him, causing him to sweat, a thin sheen of it making his sun-kissed, inked skin glimmer in the daylight. You haven't been more acutely aware of his impressive musculature the way you were at that moment, watching his powerful thighs flex whenever he jumped up.
It wasn't the first time you were seeing him shirtless given the time you woke up at his place, but you couldn't really pay attention during those other times. Now, you had a full view of it with reason to keep your eyes on him. And the realization of his effect on you was like being splashed with cold water on the face when, at the start of the game, he removed his shirt. He pulled at it from the back collar, the supposedly mundane sequence of actions making you feel...well, things.
You've never really considered it, this aspect of him, and the fact that he's attractive wasn't really something you focused on. Bur the sight made you uncharacteristically hot despite the green popsicle stuck to your mouth, also disintegrating under the high temperature, dripping into your hand, making a sticky mess. It wasn't something you were aware of until you heard his familiar voice ringing through your ears.
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TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @noble-17 @weebbuscuit @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace @kidd3ath @ichorstainedskin @ti-mame @hellyyy06 @shuujin @lysaray @lilc77
Guys, I can't tag you: @junehasnotbeenfound @its-princessmara @mythoscalliope @sukunasbudussy @pheonix-eclipses @multifandomloner
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240624]
PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
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Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)
Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down
Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.
Tags: @myloverjk-blog
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack
You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.
Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.
It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.
"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.
"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.
Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.
"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.
After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.
.
"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.
"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.
The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.
"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.
You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.
"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.
Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.
By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".
.
Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.
You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.
"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.
Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.
"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.
You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.
"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".
You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.
"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".
"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained
"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.
"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.
"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.
"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".
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babygirl-diaz · 6 months ago
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You Mess With Him, You Mess With Me (TW: Physical Assault)
So this fic... I don't know how to tag it. There isn't any actual domestic abuse in it but a character assumes that there is.
Summary: In which, Buck mistakingly assumes Eddie's new boyfriend is abusing him and punches him.
***
"So when are you two tying the knot?" Karen asked taking a sip of her wine.
They were at a BBQ at Bobby and Athena's place, and Buck and Tommy were currently hanging out with Hen and Karen.
Buck looked at Tommy and smiled brightly at his boyfriend of two years. "We haven't had that conversation yet, but I am hoping it's in the books."
"Oh, it's definitely in the books," Tommy replied, returning his smile, before kissing him.
Buck kissed him back and pulled away to lovingly look at him.
As they continued talking, Buck noticed Eddie walk out of the back door, hand in hand with his new boyfriend.
Eddie had come out as gay only a year ago and had been dating Alex, for the past 3 months. Alex was tall and slim, about the same height as Eddie, with light brown skin, a practically shaven head, and bright blue eyes. He was quite good-looking if Buck said so himself.
Buck frowned when he noticed something off about Eddie. "Does Eddie- does he have a black eye?" He asked.
"Hmmm?" Tommy looked over to where Buck was looking and Buck saw him frown, too. "It does look like a black eye."
"Oh yeah, that's definitely a black eye," Karen replied. "Wonder what happened..."
"I think I know what happened," Buck replied through gritted teeth. He pulled his hand away from where it was resting on the small of Tommy's back and clenched it into a fist. "Baby, can you hold my beer? I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?"
Buck heard Tommy ask but he didn't stop. He didn't stop until he reached Eddie and Alex, who were talking to one of the other guests.
"Buck, what's wrong?" Eddie asked worriedly
Buck kept his attention on Alex, "Eddie, how did you get the black eye?" He asked.
"Oh! Alex and I were sparring, and he accidentally hit me," Eddie replied.
Buck knew Eddie was lying and, without another word, he charged at Alex and tackled him to the ground. He raised his fist and punched him right across the face.
"BUCK!"
"EVAN!"
"What the fuck, man?!" Alex yelled under him.
Buck raised his fist again to hit him when he felt hands on him, pulling him away. "LEMME GO!" Buck yelled. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch!"
"Evan, stop!" Tommy tried holding him back.
Buck felt his anger rise when he saw Eddie helping Alex off the ground. He looked him over before glaring at Buck.
"What the fuck was that? What is wrong with you?" Eddie asked angrily.
"He hit you!" Buck replied.
"It was an ACCIDENT, Buck. He didn't hit me on purpose. Like I said, we were sparring, and he missed and hit me across the face," Eddie told him.
"Really?" Buck asked when he heard the sincerity in Eddie's voice and immediately felt bad.
Tommy's grip loosened around him.
"Yes! Alex would never hurt me. How could you even think that?" Eddie asked.
"I barely know the guy!" Buck replied. "We've never even hung out. Hell, forget him, you and I barely hang out since he came into the picture."
"Wait... Are you jealous?" Alex asked. "You have a boyfriend!"
"That's not what Evan meant," Tommy explained. "He's possessive of his friends, especially Eddie."
"Well, I don't know how I feel about that," Alex replied and took Eddie's hand in his.
"You get used to it," Tommy replied with a small laugh.
"Buck, if you are worried that we don't hang out more or if you wanna get to know Alex better, then you should have told me. Don't go around punching my boyfriend," Eddie told him.
"I- I'm sorry," Buck apologized.
"I'm not the one you should say sorry to," Eddie told him.
Buck sighed and looked at Alex. "I'm sorry, Alex. What I did was uncalled for."
"That's okay, Buck. I'm actually happy that you're this protective of Eddie." Alex wrapped an arm around Eddie and smiled at him.
Eddie smiled back and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend before gently touching his face where Buck had punched him.
"I think the four of us should go on a double date," Tommy suggested.
"I like that," Eddie replied.
"Now come on, let's go get some ice for Alex and your knuckles," Tommy said, taking Buck's hand and pulling him away.
As he left, Buck turned to look at Eddie and Alex and saw Eddie giving him a thumbs up. Buck smiled and returned his thumbs up.
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another-whump-sideblog · 3 months ago
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Fixing Tracy -- Introductions
TWs in the tags
Masterlist
Tracy wakes up to sunlight on her face.
Her first thought is “that feels nice.”
Her second thought is “shit, I missed my alarm!”
Her third thought is “wait… where am I?”
She jolts out of bed. Not her bed— it’s far too comfortable to be her bed. This isn’t her room. 
Is she dreaming? She can’t think of any other reason she’d go to sleep in one bed and wake up in another. She closes her eyes and focuses very hard on waking up. Nothing happens.
So… either she doesn’t remember going here of her own will, or someone took her here while she was unconscious.
No matter which is the case though, one thing is clear: she’s in danger. She would never forget something like traveling to a new location unless someone did something to her to make that happen, and obviously being moved while she was unconscious means someone has bad intentions.
She looks around for cameras, but finds none. She'd feel more reassured if she had found any, that way she could be reasonably confident that was all there was and find a way to deal with them. This way she's uncomfortably aware that there could easily be a camera or a bug she missed in her search.
She scans the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. There's not much. There's a bookshelf, but all of the books are paperback and none look thick enough to do more damage than a slap would. There's a dresser–
Tracy freezes. It's full of her clothes. She can recognize some of the stains and tears. There are some new items, but the large majority would've had to have been taken out of her apartment. More importantly, they're neatly folded and organized in a way that Tracy never keeps her clothes. She didn't put them there and forget, someone else took her and her clothes and who knows what else and brought them here. They would've needed plenty of time to get everything all neat in the dresser, too. How long was she unconscious?
Focus. Right now the most important thing is finding a weapon. There's a spinny chair next to a desk, but it seems too bulky to carry around. She'll keep it in mind, it's definitely heavy enough. The lamp, maybe? She tests it out, but it seems too light to do any damage. There is a lightbulb, though. She takes off the lampshade (plastic, no wires that could be used for lock picking), unscrews the lightbulb, and breaks it against the nightstand like an egg. She breaks off enough that all that's exposed is sharp, jagged edges, which she should be able to do a good amount of damage with if she has to. She cut her hand a bit, but not enough to matter right now.
No one's come for her yet. Maybe she can get out the window and run for safety? It's far out of her reach and frosted so that she can't see anything out of it, but maybe if she moves some furniture around…
She quickly finds that every piece of furniture in the room besides the spinny chair is nailed down, and the spinny chair isn't steady enough to let her stand on it to try and break the window with enough force without falling.
She sets down her improvised weapon and holds the spinny chair upside down, then slams one of the wheels against the window as hard as she can. It makes a lot of noise. She would've barricaded the room first if she could move anything else (unfortunately the hinges are on the inside of the room, so she wouldn't have been able to tie the doorknob to something with a blanket to keep the door closed), but she can't, so she just hopes that either the chair or the lightbulb will be able to fight her captor(s?) off.
The window doesn't crack or show any sign of being weakened no matter how hard she hits it. She starts to hit it to a rhythm– three fast, three slow, three fast. S.O.S., or close enough to it. She knows she wouldn't go investigate if she just heard banging against someone's window, but she would if that banging was saying S.O.S. in Morse code, and she hopes there's someone nearby enough to hear that's similar.
Once her arms are so sore they start to shake, she sets the chair down and picks up the lightbulb again. If she kidnapped someone and didn't come to stop them when they started pounding on a window, it would be because she knew there was no chance of the window breaking or alerting anyone. Her chances of escaping this way are slim.
That just leaves the door to the room. She doubts it's unlocked, but when she twists the doorknob she meets no resistance. This is where they want her to go, then.
There's a lock on her side of the door. That's… odd. She pulls the door open a crack and peaks out, but doesn't see anyone. She opens it a bit more.
There's a lady with long, blond hair sitting on a couch reading a book. There's no way she didn't hear all the racket Tracy was making, but she doesn't seem phased at all. Maybe she's deaf?
The door creaks and the lady looks towards it, destroying that theory instantly. She heard everything, she was just that confident that nothing Tracy did in there would negatively impact her.
"You're awake! How are you feeling?"
Tracy slams the door shut and rushes into the closet of the room. There are more of her clothes and the closet smells like her apartment–
She covers her mouth with one hand to quiet her breathing and holds out the lightbulb with the other. When the lady comes, she should be able to catch her by surprise.
She waits, and waits, and waits, and no one comes. The lady isn't going to give Tracy a chance to catch her by surprise. If she wants to leave this room, it has to be through the door, towards the person that most likely kidnapped her in the first place.
The cuts on her hand have mostly stopped bleeding, and the blood that ended up on her face from covering her mouth has dried. She hopes that makes her look intimidating… probably not, though, since the lady most likely knows full well the only person in here is Tracy.
Tracy opens the door again and holds the lightbulb out in front of her. "Where am I?"
The lady puts a bookmark in her book and gets off the couch. She gasps when she gets a good look at Tracy.
"Oh, dear, what happened?" Her eyes flicker to the lightbulb, Tracy's empty hand, and back to her face. "Is it just your hand that's hurt? Come, let's get you cleaned up."
The lady is weirding Tracy out. "No! Don't come any closer, don't touch me." She waves the lightbulb to accentuate her point. "Where am I??"
The lady raises her hands in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you. Well, I guess if you were to attack me with that I would have to defend myself… I have no intention of hurting you. You're safe. Can you take some deep breaths for me?"
"Tell me where I am!"
The lady gestures to the room around them. "Your new home."
Tracy's stomach drops. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. I told you, I have no intention of hurting you. Do you want to sit down?"
"Why– how– Who are you!?"
"Oh, right, I forgot you don't know. I know so much about you, it's hard to remember that to you I'm just a stranger. My name is Molly. It's nice to finally speak to you, Tracy."
Tracy's legs feel weak. "You're– you–"
"Just relax. From now on, you have no responsibilities, no stress. I understand if you need to keep fighting, though." Molly gestures at the lightbulb. "You need to feel like this is completely out of your control, or else you’ll feel guilty for resting. It’s alright. Fight until you’re satisfied that there’s no escape. I won’t take it personally. I'd really like to take care of your hand first though. You wouldn't be surrendering or anything like that, just taking advantage of your resources. It would be a lot harder to fight with an infection, right? And who knows, maybe if you act compliant I'll let my guard down enough to give you an opportunity to escape. You can accept my help guilt-free, it doesn't mean anything more than that you're smart enough to care for your injuries."
Tracy hates that Molly's reassurances are actually comforting. Cooperating wouldn't hurt anything, and it would benefit her quite a lot… Still, she's suspicious. She wants to figure out what the catch is. "I– please, can I take care of it on my own?"
"Of course! The bathroom is through that door over there, and the First Aid kit is under the sink. I'll stay right here if you want."
Tracy backs into the bathroom, pointing the lightbulb towards Molly the whole way. Like the bedroom, the bathroom locks from the inside. Tracy closes the door and locks it before setting down the lightbulb.
She cleans the blood off her face, then cleans the cuts on her hand and bandages them.
Her best option right now is to cooperate and gather information. Molly is extraordinarily confident that there's no way for Tracy to escape, so Tracy needs to figure out why and how to get around that before anything else.
When she exits the bathroom, Tracy takes a deep breath and heads to the sitting area. She still points the lightbulb at Molly, but she sits in a seat facing the couch Molly was reading at. She's just gathering information and gaining Molly's trust. She can do this.
Molly smiles and sits back down next to her book. "You look much better. I'll admit, I was worried you'd try and break the mirror and just cut yourself more, so I'm glad you're satisfied with the weapon you already have."
Tracy's not sure how to respond to that. "...what do you want from me?"
"I don't want anything from you, dear. I want peace and joy and health for you, but you don't have to do anything."
"Why?"
"Because you're broken, Tracy. And I'm going to fix you."
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cotharach · 2 months ago
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#COTHARACH: an affiliated flayn rp blog, loved and cherished by mik (20, they/them, gmt +8). a little fish swimming through the tides of a new world. rules and portrayal notes may be found under the cut!
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RULES
ON AFFILIATION: this blog is affiliated with the officers academy. as such, personal blogs and rp blogs not affiliated with toa will be softblocked or blocked.
ON SHIPPING: i won't prioritize it but i am open to shipping with chemistry and ooc familiarity. my other caveats are that i am NOT open to shipping with non-students or non-minors and that i would like for things to be plotted out.
ON FORMATTING: i use small text with icons in my writing. if you have any issues with readability or would like me to change my format, please let me know! as for my personal preference: i would prefer it if my partners could use small text in their replies so i can read it more easily <3
ON OOC CONTACT: as tumblr's IMs have been acting up recently (for me at least) i prefer discord dms. my username is emblian! i am part of toa's discord server so you may also ping me there. i will let you all know now that, while i have grown more comfortable speaking with others ooc, i am still prone to bouts of anxiety and may pull back at any given moment. please don't take this personally! i may just need some space and time to get myself together.
ON REPLIES: my schedule has gotten considerably less free since i'm starting my semester so expect me to take anywhere from a week to a month to reply. i'll do my best to avoid having my partners wait for too long, of course, but i just want to be clear just in case you think i might be ghosting you or forgetting our thread. though that's not out of the question—i'm also a pretty forgetful person, so feel free to ping me if you feel that may be the case!
ON TRIGGER WARNINGS: i will use general trigger warnings for things such as gore, extreme violence, suicide, and other topics that i deem sensitive enough to warrant it. i will be using "tw // (word)" as a tag. if you have any triggers you'd like me to tag, please feel free to let me know through a dm. i also tag spoilers under "spoilers" but... for a series this old, i don't know what else there is to spoil JDFNLKDSJFG
ON OTHER FIRE EMBLEM GAMES: i am most familiar with three houses, thracia, heroes, and awakening but have a general grasp on most of the other games. it can only take me so far, though. for games/characters i'm not too familiar with, i hope you don't mind if i ask questions!
PORTRAYAL NOTES ( NOT SPOILER FREE) (IT'S BEEN FIVE YEARS)
it has been 3 years since flayn was last here, so i understand that it may be confusing to have her suddenly drop in with all of the progress she's made. the explanation i have (detailed more in this post) is that she has been on a holy mission around fodlan this whole time.
my interpretation is based mainly on her in academy phase, once you've recruited her. so you can assume she has already been kidnapped and rescued and all that jazz.
three hopes revealed to us that flayn is prone to overexertion due to her actions in the war. this was something missing from my old interpretation that i'll be integrating into things i see fit.
people who know seteth may also be familiar with flayn; students of the blue lion house should also be familiar with her (and she will be similarly familiar with them) so you're free to skip the pleasantries and go straight to action. for ease of interaction, i assume that our muses have been introduced to one another in mission threads or settings that are official school business (i.e. an assignment), but do let me know if you prefer otherwise.
flayn is a nabatean, and while fellow dragonkin (or even particularly nosy humanfolk) may sense or suspect something up with her identity, it's a fact that won't be explicitly known by people who aren't seteth or rhea. so even if you and i know who she really is, your muse won't. having her reveal this to other people is not out of the question, but will take a long time and lots of trust.
similarly, her identity as seteth's daughter should be secret to everyone except for her, seteth, rhea, and other nabateans. so your muse wouldn't know the true nature of her familial relationship with seteth unless she says so (but this is something i feel she has less reason to reveal, as it implicates seteth too)
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colderdrafts · 2 years ago
Text
6: Dismay
Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. TW for forced touching, violence - Morgan should come with their own warning tbh. Previous Next
Your tension was already running high when walking around outside, but it’s tenfold now that Morgan has decided to forcibly tag along.
Their steps are so close you feel you have to constantly lean away as to not accidentally bump into one of their legs.
"What are you so interested in magic for?" your 'companion' asks, casually glancing around the marketplace.
You note that, out here as well, no one is staring at you anymore. More-so, everyone is doing their utmost to stay far out of your way.
Or well. Perhaps out of Morgan’s way. It’s hard to tell just who is being avoided with the monstrous spider practically breathing down your neck.
You reply with a question of your own. "What do you want?"
Morgan smirks. "Something for the same thing?"
"Forget it."
They laugh. “SO - I don't see your custodian anywhere?"
"He should be around here somewhere," you deflect.
"Hmm. I'll wait with you, then. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“He’ll mind if I’m trampled flat by the time he gets here,” you grunt, once again sidestepping one of Morgan’s pointy legs that got too close for comfort.
“Not to worry sentry, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Morgan states as-a-matter-of-factly, either not getting what you meant or simply choosing to ignore it.
“Then try not to step on me,” you snarl to make it clear for them.
“Wouldn’t want to lose you in this rowdy crowd, now. Just walk normally, I’ll find your rhythm soon enough.”
You don’t like the way they said that, coating their words with meanings you don’t understand and somewhat keeping things out of your reach. You have no idea what their motive is, though their behavior makes darn sure you don’t want to find out. How the hell do you get rid of them?
Morgan speaks up again after a brief pause. “You know, I’m not jesting when I say walking around alone out here’s not the greatest idea. You did notice you were followed before, right?”
Oh yeah. The reason you fled into the tavern in the first place. You look around, but don’t see the snatchers anywhere anymore. You had completely forgotten, considering you now have to be wary of another very unnerving shadow tailing you.
Wait. if Morgan knew about that, how long have they been watching you wander the market without your notice?
“Are you their substitute?” you ask flatly.
Morgan chuckles darkly and leans in over you, red eyes glinting. “I’m the upgrade.”
You wrinkle your nose, having passed by 'too close for comfort' eons ago. That’s enough.
You twist and duck out underneath them, purposely slinking in between two stalls too narrow for them to fit through, hoping to put a little distance between you and maybe enabling yourself to blend in somewhere. You hear Morgan heave an exasperated sigh as you do so.
And then you hear someone else let out a startled screech.
You flip around, and watch as Morgan simply steps up on top of the two stalls and starts climbing over them, uncaring of any wares their spindly legs roughly shoves aside. A birdlike person behind one of them flails backwards, snaps its beak at them and glares in anger, but doesn’t make any move to stop them. Food, pots and clothing items scatter and litter the ground.
Morgan fixates on you with a determined stare, and you feel yourself rooted in place. Something about the uncanny view of them towering over everything else, slowly making their way toward you, has made you freeze in place. The stalls creak and protest under their weight as they casually step down and stop in front of you again.
The seller glares at you, and begins picking up their dirtied wares from the ground. They’re not the only one staring. Multiple eyes look at you judgmentally, as if you’re the one responsible for Morgan’s antics.
“Anything else?” Morgan asks you casually, ignoring them all. They wipe some grease off their front legs in the grass.
It takes you a second to regain control of your body. When you do, anger bubbles in you. You gesture at the poor salesman. “You couldn’t have walked around?” you snap at them.
They cog an eyebrow at you. “Couldn’t you?”
You groan and walk away. Morgan follows you.
You try and find the most crowded spaces you can, instincts telling you to stay in sight of the group where it's safer. Though your instincts may have failed you here, as it seems whenever you approach somewhere, people around you quietly filter away. No one picks up on your silent pleas for help to get rid of the dangerous person actively stalking you in plain sight. Common-folk turn away before you’ve even uttered a word. Morgan keeps to your side, patiently waiting for your bluff to be called out.
You glance up at them, a knowing but humored look in their eye. You get the feeling they're enjoying this.
It’s sometime in the late afternoon as you round the last row of the marketplace. Some common-folk are starting to pack up their wares, their deed done for the day.
In the end, you’ve exhausted your options, and you feel a small sting of terror in not knowing what will happen now. Morgan is still glued to your side, having succeeded in keeping you walking with their legs stepping in place close to you. You haven’t had a single chance to dart in between the stalls or make a break for it.
As you reach a corner of a building, somewhat excluded from the rest of the market, Morgan decides the gig is officially up. They take advantage of your close proximity and promptly stop with two legs on either side of you, forcing you to halt lest you stumble into them. They turn into you and pushes, gently but firmly getting your back up against the wall of the small building.
“Alright, that’s enough of that, I think,” they snicker.
You try and duck under their legs, but they quickly stop you in your tracks by leaning down and grasping your shoulders in their pedipalps.
“Christ, would you just leave me alone?!” you spit, grabbing uselessly at the two furry appendages keeping you in place while two front legs cage you in by gently pressing on either side of you.
Morgan observes you with an amused expression. “You sure are stubborn, I’ll give you that! I do wonder what you’re so on the fence about. It’s been fun messing about, but this has gone on long enough.”
The lean down, holding your chin in their hands and forcing you to look at them in the eyes. Red fills your vision. "I know you're alone, sentry," they whisper.
You shudder.
"Don't try and fool me. No custodian in their right mind would ever let you walk around like this, so nervous and on edge. Need to stay safe, yes? Why won't you just let me help you?"
“Help me?” you grit you teeth and try to squirm out of their grip. They don’t let you. “You’ve been terrorizing me for several hours! What the hell is your deal? What do you want from me?”
Morgan looks at you a bit funny, tilting their head. “..Is that not obvious?” they ask. “I want to take you in and be your custodian.”
..Come again?
You stare at them.
Morgan smiles, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "It's very cute how nervous you are, even if I don't really get why. We are literally built for each other. You have nothing to fear from me. Why won't you just accept my offer?"
“What are you talking about – built for each other?” you ask, finally pulling your head out of their hands.
They regard you in confusion again, brows slightly furrowed. It’s not unlike the way Dren first looked at you when you got here. “Well, I’m a custodian. You know, a drider?” Morgan’s lower body chitters quietly as if to underline the fact. They give you a lopsided smirk as if you’re both in on a joke. “And you’re a sentry. We tend to team up from time to time.”
Oh. So that’s what they look like.
You don’t really know what you expected. You only wish Dren would have warned you a bit sooner that there was one specific kind of common-folk to watch out for. But perhaps that has something to do with the fact that he is one and the same.
It certainly explains some of the odd anxieties that seemed to blossom within him at times you were near.
“I do wonder why you’ve kept up all these walls for so long,” Morgan continues, bringing you back into the unpleasant moment. Their look softens, the most gentle expression you’ve seen on them yet. “Are you running away from someone? Promise I won't make you go back if you are.”
Shivers crawl down your spine.
You throat is dry.
“Or maybe I’m just your first?” they ponder, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “It doesn’t really matter if it’s one or the other. You know I’ll take good care of you regardless, so why wont you just let me? Why have you been fighting me all day?”
There’s something suffocating about this closeness, being trapped up against the wall and stared down. They wont listen to your words, and you can feel a prickling sensation of fear threatening to start clouding your mind with survival instincts if you don't get out of here soon.
Morgan shifts ever so slightly, and their legs pushes against something in the satchel at your side that pokes against your leg. You faintly remember you did not come unarmed.
With quivering hands you reach into it, keeping Morgan distracted by looking them in the eye - your hand reaches the handle of the small knife. In one motion, you've snatched it from its space inside the satchel, and jab it at the leg at your right side with a grunt. The blade scrapes across the tough chitin, creating a superficial cut.
Morgan flinches with a low hiss, the kind of noise you'd make when startled by being hit with a drop of hot water from a boiling pot - nothing that really does a lot of harm.
That move might have been a mistake.
Morgan briefly looks down at the open cut that's now running across their leg, before focusing back on you. They mostly look a worried, alongside a little disappointed.
"So afraid.. Who did this to you?" they ask, free hand snatching your wrist before you can cause some real damage. "Drop that."
They knock your arm against the wall behind you, causing the knife to fly out of your grasp and it lands on the grass below.
The legs keeping you in place slightly curl inwards, latching onto your legs and lifting, and suddenly your feet have stopped touching the ground.
You gasp. “Stop – stop, stop, put me down-” you struggle against them again, squirming in their grip.
“Shh, shh, none of that now, you’re safe,” Morgan coos, leaning their torso in. “I’m not angry.”
Their pedipalps shift, maneuvering so that they hold your waist rather than your shoulders, legs supporting your weight and keeping balanced. From this vantage point they have an easier time pressing their torso up against you. “It's alright. How many time do I have to tell you you’re not in danger?” they chuckle.
You’re completely wrapped up in them. It feels like the walls are closing in on you.
“Not in – just let me go!” you cry out.
You try and fail to keep any distance, putting your hands on their chest to at least keep their upper body a bit at bay. You’re surrounded from all sides. It’s claustrophobic.
Morgan slowly trails their arms over your shoulders and lean you into them, completely ignoring your hands shoving at their chest. “Don’t be scared,” they say gently. “Calm down. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”
They hold you there for a bit, patiently waiting for you to stop straining in their grip, muttering soft words and reassurances. You struggle with all your might, but, in the end, Morgan is simply stronger than you. Eventually you exhaust yourself and remain frozen, frustrated at this fruitless battle.
You heart is galloping a thousand miles and hour as they close the rest of the distance once you still.
“Let me take care of you,” Morgan mutters in your ear, securing their arms around you.
A sudden warmth spreads from them as they do so, but you don’t really register it as their body heat. It’s something else. There's some sort of energy rolling off of them as they lean in; It’s comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket. A pleasant sensation that's trying to lure you in, calm you down. A promise of safety if you just let it inside.
"You feel it, don't you?" they ask, smile in their voice.
The warmth burrows inside your chest and something inside you shifts. You feel strangely drawn to them, your tense muscles going lax. You suddenly want nothing more than to just breathe out, trust them, close your eyes and believe you’re finally somewhere safe. You have to actively restrain yourself from leaning back into them, your mind still going a million miles an hour.
It’s not right.
"I can't," you whisper, trying to wriggle backwards out of their grip despite your body actively trying to prevent you. "I can't, I'm not-"
"Shh, sure you are," they purr. "You’re almost there. Just -" they're cut off.
Morgan suddenly recoils with a startled hiss, narrowly dodging the pointed ends of a black pair of spiders legs that forcefully slams into the ground where they just stood a second earlier.
Morgan tries to pull you with them, but something tough wraps around your torso and legs and yanks you out of their grasp in the millisecond the startle loosened it. You fall to the ground and slip backwards, your body still lax and feeling strange from whatever Morgan just did to you. Something soft curls around both your shoulders, steadying you. You sense movement all around you, that comes to a sudden halt, a familiar pair of black legs crossed in front of you protectively.
"This one is spoken for," Dren's voice sounds above you, thunderous and snarling. "Leave them alone."
You feel like something inside you snaps, like a cord traveling through your chest is suddenly torn. A chill seeps through your heart and panic settles in your core, and now you find yourself unable to either fight or flight. You're in some sort of catatonia, your entire body shaking.
Morgan stops and stares at him, eyes narrowed to slits. "Is that so?" they hiss. "Sure didn't seem like it when they wandered around on their own. Were you even aware you left them exposed to snatchers?! Some custodian you are!"
The tension in the air sends another wave of nausea through you, and you roughly palm at the pedipalps holding you in place. You have to run. Get the hell out of here.
Let me go.
“And you’re any better forcing your care upon them?” Dren counters angrily, without noticing. “Get out of my sight or I’ll tear you to shreds.”
They size each other up for a moment. Dren’s bigger, but you have no idea what else Morgan is capable of.
Morgan looks between Dren and you for a bit, and then their eyes widen, taking in your shaking form. “Wait a minute. You’re not even bonded, are you? What gives you ANY right-”
"Choice," Dren booms, causing you to whimper. "You've ignored all of their signals. They're terrified of you. What makes you think you could ever take care of them like that?"
Morgan glares at him for a bit, but they frown when they look back at you. You're having a hard time focusing on anything, your eyes darting from one to the other. You chest is aching, heart pounding. You feel like you can't breathe.
"Choice," Morgan repeats slowly, purposely keeping their voice down, measured and controlled. They shift their threatening posture to a slightly less tense one. "That's a little hypocritical, isn't it? It seems this sentry has not made any choice at all. They're terrified of both of us."
You hear Dren take a breath to argue, though stops himself, probably finally feeling your trembling. You just stare ahead blankly, superficial breathing not doing much to clear your razing mind.
Dren very carefully bends down slightly, guiding you down to sit. You wobbling legs don't argue as you go down.
He releases your shoulders and stands up straight to get a look at you, though keeping his legs still blocking you from Morgan.
You try and calm your haggard breathing, but you can't. Panic comes in waves, muscles locked like you’ve been twung like thread and pulled tight. You sense Dren coming closer, slowly reaching for you, but you frantically bat him away, unable to stop yourself. "Don't touch me," you spit at him.
Dren immediately backs off, looking at you surprised. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, fidgeting.
“See?” Morgan hisses at Dren, slowly stepping a bit closer to you though remaining out of his reach. “You’re just making it worse. Get away from them.”
Dren takes a deep breath, and softly calls your name. “I want to help you, but I’ll have to pick you up. Is that alright?”
You can’t respond.
“If you touch them again you wont have limbs to touch with anymore,” Morgan growls lowly, and looks to you. “If this poor excuse of a caretaker is the reason you’ve been so afraid I’ll take him on. Say the word and he’s gone.”
Dren ball his fists, realizing he cannot help you right now, and turns to face Morgan again. He blocks you from their view, to which Morgan chitters angrily.
“This is your doing,” Dren snaps, placing his legs firmly as if preparing for an impact. A warning clattering escapes from his lower body. “I suggest you leave.”
“And I suggest you let me handle this. As opposed to you, I can actually do my job,” Morgan huffs, not intimidated, readying themself as well.
The commotion has attracted attention from the rest of the marketplace. It seems the common-folk have finished their duties and are now anxiously looking on as tension rise between Morgan and Dren. There’s shouting, suddenly, the onlookers notifying each other of what’s happening.
You don’t know what to do. It looks like they’re about to duke it out, and your fate is left up to whatever the outcome of that might be. Once again, you’re in no control of what happens to you. You let out a shuddering breath, and heave in another as deep as you can, forcing the air to stay in your lungs. Dren hears your sudden shift of airflow, and quickly casts a glance back to check on you.
Control, you repeat it in your mind, feeling the constricting foreign panic that flooded you release its hold just a fraction. Give me back control!
WHAM.
Morgan takes advantage of Dren's momentary distraction, forcefully leaping into him and knocking him to the side. Dren topples over, skidding to a halt with a gnarly hiss, legs rapidly twisting to get himself upright again.
In the brief seconds of his absence Morgan rapidly descends upon you, reaching forward to grab you again – though their arms are blocked by Dren having recovered, and leapt to intercept. They collide almost on top of you, causing you to curl in on yourself to avoid collateral damage, yet somehow both of them manage to deftly step around you as they forcefully struggle against each other.
There’s another smack and a snarl as Dren clocks Morgan square in the jaw with his right fist, and he plants his legs firmly around you. Each of his steps are thunderous as uses his size advantage to force Morgan backwards, legs skidding through the grass below and efficiently pulling the fight away from you.
Morgan bucks down, following the direction Dren is pushing them by leaping backwards and out of his grip. This results in Morgan now basically landing on top of the common-folk that had looked on until now, and they all scramble for cover. Morgan hisses in annoyance, preparing for Dren that’s coming at them like a freight train.
They collide, twisting and turning around each other as the stumble through the market place, knocking over carts and thrashing stalls. The common-folk evacuate the premises from the two, and startled screams and yells of warnings ring through the air.
You’ve managed to somewhat gather yourself, having space from them and the effects of whatever had gripped you somewhat diminished, and you get to your feet. You watch the carnage as Morgan and Dren, uncaring of anything but doing damage to the other, thrashes the marketplace.
You turn to a common-folk, the bird-like one you saw earlier, that has taken shelter at the outskirts next to you.
“Why isn’t anyone stopping them?!” you yell.
The bird immediately recoils from you as if you’re infected. He stares at you, incredulous. “And what would we do? They’ll kill us all!”
“But they wont kill you,” a gnoll next to him adds. “Why aren’t YOU doing anything?” she snaps.
Why aren’t you indeed.
Hissing and clacking of limbs colliding fills the air, and the occasional groan of wood being splintered. If they don’t stop soon, at this rate the marketplace will be reduced to nothing – though watching them clash renders you immobile. Even if you had the courage to intervene, you don’t think you could stop them.
Morgan manages to take revenge from the sucker punch by ramming their elbow into Dren’s solar plexus and he lets out a painful wheeze. In turn, Dren’s legs shoots forward and rakes across the side of Morgan’s abdomen, almost tearing through the rough carapace.
Morgan grunts, and quickly shifts to the side before Dren’s claws can do more damage. They crouch forward, and swipes at one of Dren’s legs just as he’s about to put weight on it. Dren falters a smidge, giving Morgan an opening that they quickly exploit.
They grasp around Dren’s torso and wrestles him to the ground, standing over him as he scrambles to right himself into a less exposed position. Morgan’s front legs lift to deliver a devastating blow, though Dren shifts, and uses the position to get his legs under Morgan’s lower body. He lifts Morgan off the ground, and hurls them to the side at a nearby building. The force of the impact knocks down the wall of the fragile wooden structure with a loud crash, and the ceiling of it goes down with it.
And then it’s quiet.
A somber silence settles over the marketplace in the fallout of the carnage as the dust settles. Dren slowly gets back on his feet, sluggish, heaving for breath. His entire body is shuddering, awaiting.
A few seconds pass.
Morgan doesn’t get back up.
Why is that causing a small ping of anguish in your chest?
A quiet muttering runs through the marketplace, as Dren rights himself with a disgruntled huff. He opens and closes his palms, deepening his breathing, grounding himself for a bit.
He turns and scans the crowd of terrified onlookers until his gaze lands on you. He starts making his way toward you, low to the ground and deliberately slow, though his eyes never leave your face. As if on cue, the people around you start filtering away, leaving you stranded alone in the corner of the destroyed marketplace while the custodian is quietly approaching.
Dren stops short in front of you and opens and closes his mouth. He looks reluctant, once again back to fiddling with his hands. You scan over the fresh bruises and cuts that now litter his body, a deep gash in one of his legs silently leaking a strange pale fluid.
“I’m so sorry,” is all he says, before he gingerly leans down and picks you up by the shoulders. He lifts you behind his torso and sets you on his back.
You don’t argue.
You can’t.
You stare back at the marketplace, and in particular the building where Morgan is lying in the rubble. The common-folk are slowly filtering back, almost like a steam of fish closing behind a predator that’s swum through them.
“Are they – did you-?” you manage, eyes still on the collapsed building.
“I don’t know,” Dren whispers, and starts walking.
You gingerly put your arms around his stomach for balance, legs settling on either side of his upper body. He’s surprisingly warm.
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kipscorner · 2 years ago
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-- Anything in parentheses (abc) feel free to delete! -- Anything in square brackets [abc] feel free to change! -- This is a long post, so please remember to tag “long post tw” or some kind of varient of the sort so you don’t clog mobile users dashes/people who don’t have “shorten posts.” turned on! :D
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“Doesn't this seem like a bit much?”
“This is what Christmas is all about! Can't you feel it?”
“You guys, where are we? I think we should go back.”
“Serves them right, those Yuletide-loving sickly-sweet, nog-sucking cheer mongers!”
“I really don't like them. No, I don't.”
“I've been much too tolerant of these (Whovenile) delinquents and their innocent, victimless pranks.”
“So, they want to get to know me, do they?”
“I guess I could use a little social interaction.”
“Yeah, you bet. Ho, ho, ho, and stuff…”
“You see, [name]? The city is a dangerous place.”
“Now, please, don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.”
“Well, it's just, I look around at you and [Mom] and everyone getting all kerbobbled. Doesn't this seem...superfluous?”
“I think they were up on the mountain playing with matches, or defacing public property, or....”
“Take a look at his mailbox, (sweetie). Not a single Christmas card, in or out… Ever!”
“And for the rest of you: Jury duty! Jury duty! Jury duty! Blackmail. Pink slip. Chain letter. Eviction notice. Jury duty!”
“Well, that worked out nicely.”
“[Max], let's go. Our work here is finished.”
“Don't you know you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you? What's your problem? Are you a wild animal?”
“Saving you? Is that what you think I was doing? Wrong-o.”
“You've been practicing your Christmas wrapping! I am so proud of you.”
“My, I've never seen so many beautiful Christmas lights, [Betty Lou!]”
“It's handcrafted and almost 100 years old.”
“Come on, hurry up, Slowpoke.”
“What's that stench? It's fantastic!”
“One man's toxic sludge is another man's potpourri.”
“Did Christmas change or just me?"
“First floor, factory rejects.”
“But we did our worst. And that's all that matters.”
“At least I scared the bejeebles out of that little [girl] at the post office. [She]'ll be scarred for life, if we're lucky.”
“Funny she didn't rat on us, though. Must be afraid of reprisals.”
“If you utter so much as one syllable I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish!”
“I've got all the company I need right here.”
“I'm an idiot!”
“You're an idiot!”
“Am I just eating because I'm bored?”
“In your own words, please tell me everything you know about [the Grinch.]”
“Hey, honey, our baby is here! He looks just like your boss.”
“It was Christmas Eve, and a strange wind blew that night.”
“Do you want a Christmas cookie?”
“Don't forget, tomorrow is our big Christmas gift exchange.Everyone bring a special gift for a special someone.”
“You don't have a chance with [her].”
“It was a horrible day when they were so cruel to [him]. And I could hardly bear it.”
“And that was the last time we ever saw [him]. The very last time.”
“I hate you.Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. Loathe entirely!”
“Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!”
“I may do something drastic.”
“You made that up! It doesn't say that.”
“But the book does say: The cheer-meister is the one who deserves a back slap or a toast. And it goes to the soul at Christmas who needs it most."
“Blast this Christmas music. It's joyful and triumphant.”
“The impudence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!”
“You called down the thunder now, get ready for the boom!”
“Gaze into the face of fear!”
“You see? Even now the terror is welling up inside you.”
“Run for your life before I kill again!”
“Maybe you need a time-out.”
“Kids today. So desensitized by movies and television.”
“"Holiday Whobie-what-y"?”
“I know you hate Christmas, but what if it's all just a misunderstanding?”
“I myself am having some Yuletide doubts.”
“Award? You never mentioned an award!”
“Was anyone emotionally shattered?”
“Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up! Details, details!”
“I don't know if it's that adorable twinkle in your eye or that nonconformist streak that reminds me of a younger, less hairy me.”
“Who knows? This Whobilation could change my entire outlook on life!”
“You can make snow angels later.”
“The nerve of those (Whos). Inviting me down there on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it.”
“4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger tell no one. 5:30, jazzercise. 6:30, dinner with me… I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! If I bumped the loathing to 9:00, I'd have time to lay in bed stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.”
“It's not a dress, it's a kilt! Sicko!”
“This is ridiculous. If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going! That's it, I'm not going.”
“Ohh, ahh, mmm… That's it, I'm not going.”
“[He] isn't here. What? [He] didn't show? Who could have predicted this?
“All right. I'll swing by for a minute, allow them to envy me grab a handful of popcorn shrimp, and blow out of there.”
“But what if it's a cruel prank? What if it's a cash bar? How dare they!”
“All right, I'll go. But I'll be fashionably late.”
“All right. I've made my decision! I'm going, and that's that!”
“Come on, while I'm young!”
“But first, a little family reunion.”
“Are you two still living?”
“Sweater? What are you talkin' about? No, I can't! I can't do that!”
“No. I can't do it, honestly. I'm not ready. It's too much, too soon!”
“I've got a lawyer. There'll be hell to pay!”
“Look at the time. I really should be getting back.”
“Bring it on! Is that all you got? Is that all you got? Come on!”
“That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about!”
“Look, I don't want to make waves, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“There is, however one teeny-tiny Christmas tradition I find quite meaningful. Mistletoe.”
“Burn, baby! Burn!”
“Evening, folks. Mind if I ride along? You might want to scooch over.”
“You fellas all right? How about a nice hat?”
“I'm hurt, [Lou]. I'm hurt, and I don't hurt easily.”
“But you and your family.... I'm so disappointed.”
“I just wanted everybody to be together for Christmas.”
“Suffering snorkelblatz! They're relentless!”
“Oh, no. I'm speaking in rhyme!”
“I must stop this whole thing. Why for year after year I've put up with it now.”
“Are you having a holly, jolly Christmas? Wrong-o!”
“If you're not going to help me then you might as well…”
“You're as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel.”
“Just face the music, you're a monster.”
“Your heart's an empty hole.”
“I asked for three-quarters, not five-eighths. Stay focused!”
“Air bag is a little slow. But that's what these tests are for!”
“Talk about a recluse. He only comes out once a year, and he never catches any flak for it!”
“Probably lives up there to avoid the taxes.”
“No, forget that part. We'll improvise.”
“Saving Christmas was a lousy ending. Way too commercial.”
“We're gonna die! We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!”
“[Mommy], tell it to stop!”
“Almost lost my cool there.”
“It's Santa! Go right back to sleep.”
“[He]'s planning a double-twisting interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and pike. High degree of difficulty.”
“Blasted water weight! Goes right to my hips.”
“Okay, fellas. Show time.”
“[Mr. Santa], what are you doing with our tree?”
“[Santa], what's Christmas really about?”
“I know [he]'s mean and hairy and smelly. [His] hands might be cold and clammy. But I think [he]'s actually kind of sweet.”
“Nice kid. Bad judge of character.”
“Clearance sale. Everything must go.”
“That wasn't so bad, was it, [Max]?”
“What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!”
“I wonder who could have done this.”
“But did anyone listen to me? No.”
“[Cindy], I hope you're very proud of what you've done.”
“You're glad. You're glad everything is gone. You're glad that [the Grinch] virtually wrecked.... No, not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that what I'm hearing?”
“You can't hurt Christmas, [Mr. Mayor], because it isn't about the gifts or the contests or the fancy lights. That's what [Cindy]'s been trying to tell everyone! And me. [She]'s been trying to tell me.”
“What's wrong with you? This is a child!”
“[She]'s my child. And she happens to be right, by the way.”
“I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here, my family!”
“Now for the final note in my symphony of downright nasty not-niceness! The crescendo of my odious opus! The wailing and the gnashing of teeth. The bellowing of the bitterly bummed out! It'll be like music to my ears!”
“Somehow or other, it came Just the same!”
“How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
“Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
“Help me! I'm feeling!”
“What's happening to me? I'm all toasty inside. And I'm leaking?”
“All right, that's enough! Knock it off! beat it! Get out of here! One step at a time!
“Wait! This can't happen! It shouldn't! It couldn't! It mustn't! It wouldn't! Not now, not then, not ever again!”
“What are you doing up there!?”
“I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.”
“I got you, [Cindy Lou]!”
“Are you kiddin'? The sun is bright and the powder's bitchin'!”
“Now scoot over! It's my turn to drive!”
“Now you listen to me, [young] [lady]! Even if we're horribly mangled there'll be no sad faces on Christmas.”
“By the way, these lights match your outfit perfectly.”
“This could be more difficult to negotiate.”
“Out of the way! I have no insurance!”
“Run for your lives! Watch out, I can't stop!”
“Aren't you gonna cuff me? Put me in a choke hold? Blind me with pepper spray?”
“Sorry but my heart belongs to someone else.”
“Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.”
“There's nothin' like the holidays.”
“Too late! That'll be mine.”
127 notes · View notes
jujutsukgojo · 2 years ago
Text
Sukuna
chapter two, chapter three
Summary: The ones that knew you can at least say you tried. Your best friend, your student, the disgraced one, will always be your best friend. The origin of Sukuna Ryoumen, the curse, is on you.
TW: violence, angst, mild misogyny. Please beware of this!
I am tagging as i go so later chapters will have different warnings. There is some history here so i tried to keep up. It is very minor though. I don't own jjk or the characters.
“Master Tengen?” Said man turns around to see who called his name. His eyes squint to see who had called him. Although he is immortal, that doesn’t mean his body is. It is about time for a physical change again. After all, he can only last about a hundred or so years now. 
“We’re waiting for you,” The young man comes closer to the stronghold of jujutsu. “What are you doing Master Tengen?” 
  Humming, Tengen answers the curious young man who had just become a grade two. A respectable grade if you ask him. He thinks they all are since it is you who taught your class that. But he will be honest here, you would totally disapprove of this hierarchy. You wanted equality and unity. The balance of nature and peace. Never would you have allowed such a separation of a society you helped build.  
  Jujutsu has always been, but never had it been functional and structured until you. And now look at it. It rests on prejudice and the closed minded, the very things you hated.  
Sighing, he answers the young man. “Thinking about my student days.”  
  “You were a student?” Is he really that old that no one remembers that he is human? He wants to roll his eyes but how can you blame someone who just doesn’t understand? Someone who was lied to. 
Not a second later, Tengen asks, “Do you know the story of the mother of jujutsu?” 
“Who? I never heard of a mother.” Tengen is forbidden to speak of him, Sukuna. But the young man Tengen will tell. If he is to die today, someone should know of you. You are the reason Sukuna is here.  
  Recently, Tengen’s dreams have been flooded with you. He remembers being just like this young man and walking up to you, explaining that he is immortal and needs guidance. Tengen will never forget your smile. He will never forget Sukuna’s sneer and crossed arms from beside you. Tengen will never forget the beginning of the society. 
“You are not to speak of this story until I pass, do you understand?” A trick that the young man undoubtedly caught. Tengen is eternal. He cannot pass unless taken. 
“Why?” The young man sits down on the floor. Tengen settles in his chair to face him. “For no reason at all.” 
--------
794  
With a growl, he shovels another bite into his mouth. Watching those pompous nobles' parade around and literally toss food to others makes the food he picked up taste bitter. All of it makes him sick. The rich pretend to be holy and charitable throwing their leftovers to others. With a grin they do it; teeth bared like a smile, but all he saw was a snarl. A warning for those not to get too close to them.  
  The food in his never-ending stomach gets too heavy for him. He makes it to the window just in time to vomit. He is still hungry. Sukuna cannot help himself when it comes to food. He doesn’t know why he is always so hungry. It has become a problem for him with others. They all stare directly at him like he is some kind of spectacle. It amazes yet frightens them how much he eats and his physique that never waivers or weakens. Instead, he grew taller and stronger. He now has to duck his head when entering through the door.  
  Clenching his fists, Sukuna looks out the window. Sukuna has always been odd. This heavy feeling, this rage boiling inside him. Not only do people talk of his physique but they call him crazy. He said he had saw something horrific and when they failed to see it, they immediately thought him to be mad.  
  This wouldn’t happen if they knew their place, Sukuna thought. He is above them; he knows this. And yet, he receives nothing but judgement and hatred. Things thrown at him and disgusting whispers.  
  He can see and hear things they can’t. He can do things they never will. Nevertheless, someone with such talent is inside a little hut while nobles toss him their garbage. He hates them all.  
That painful, tingly feeling he has always gotten grows stronger with each day. Sometimes it settles in his bones, making it hard for him to get up without his knees buckling under the sheer weight of it. Something has got to give or Sukuna fears that he will be the one to.
 
In the dead of night with only the moon and stars out, he exits his small home. Sukuna was able to acquire the land cheaply since it is very, very, small and is largely separated from others. It has his appreciation anyways since it does its job. Sukuna passes the shrine and stares at it. He cannot help but think of himself having one. With no family or friends, it is unlikely that he will ever receive one even in death.  
  One day he’ll eat us! They say. We are bound to run out of food because of him. They say. He’s crazy! They say. This is how he will be remembered. 
So badly does he want them to shut up. Whispering around him as if he could not hear them. “Someday I will have my own shrine...yes. I like the sound of that.” Some day he will be respected maybe even worshipped. The tingling feeling starts on his arms and legs at the thought.  
“Really?” 
  Shocked, he turns around to see you. Rarely do people come up to him anyway. Your lips clamp shut, and you look down, as if you are embarrassed that you spoke up. “Yes, really. Why not?” 
“Do you think you are that remarkable?” You become a little bolder, looking up at him now, directly into his eyes. Such a nosey little thing you are.  
“Well, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Besides his hunger, there is another small reason as to why they whisper. Rumors flowing in the wind, apparent “sightings” of what Sukuna is. “What are they?” 
“Being incredibly hungry.” At the last second, he curves that answer. “Me too.” You quip.  
Truthfully, Sukuna is starting to like your company. Even if it is just a few seconds long. Never has someone been seemingly comfortable in his presence. And you haven’t even picked on him. Just talked to him. How has he just now realized that he feels so alone? 
You look up into his eyes. Sukuna admits that it is cute the way you have to crane your neck to look at him. His overall figure has always been intimidating to people. Normally he would roll his eyes at their whispers of his size, but the way you look when you stare into his eyes is cute and friendly. 
   “Will you tell me what you are? It’s fine to be honest.” 
So, you do know of the rumors. “Mind your tongue.” You take a small step back but do not look down. “You’re bold to still look up at me without permission.” 
Snorting, you ask, “Who are you? God?” 
He hums.  
  The two of you walk along and you touch the wood of the shrine. He tries to shake you off by walking away after realizing you heard the rumors. She probably just wanted to get a good look at the beast. 
However, you showed no signs of running away. Instead, you kept up with him without sneering. Sukuna strangely found your presence calming despite trying to shake you off. It isn’t supposed to go like this. He just wanted to walk and fantasize.   
It is probably scandalous for the two of you to be talking like this, but your willingness to talk to Sukuna period is telling. As you walk by his side, he then feels it. Your energy. Energy like this is on everyone, but yours is a little stronger. Just like him, regular people can feel it too. An aura around you that people know is off.  
However, it is trying to hide, as if it is playing peek-a-boo. He has never hidden his presence, yet you hide. He wonders why and if you can truly relate to him. 
  “You want me to be honest with you. But I will only do that if you are honest with me.” Sukuna will not show his cards right now.  
With a small smile, you say, “We are just alike, y’know. Trust me when I say that you are not alone.” 
  Rolling his eyes, he continues to walk. He hears your feet catch up with him. Raising his eyebrow as he side eyes you, he comments, “Brave. Very brave.” 
  When he enters the empty space in the woods he likes to train in, he feels an immense energy coming his way. Just in time he dodges. It tears through the air and the branches of the trees. You are on him in an instant. He is mildly shocked by the events. He didn't expect you to attack him. Before he would do anything, he was going to tell you to scram. 
“I can help you if you want.” There was no technique in that attack, just energy. It was almost as if you were lazily doing it. At that moment, Sukuna starts to growl. “You think of me that weak that you hold back?” 
  You shake your head no. “I wanted to show you that you aren’t alone. Let me show you what true jujutsu is.” 
  He stares up at you. Your smaller form sits on top of his. “Mind your tongue.” 
  You stand and stretch out a hand to him. “You don’t have to be alone.” 
How did you know he felt lonely? Do you know what being alone is? Secluded because you are insane and frightening? 
  “I got you, my friend.” Sukuna wonders if you can read his mind or are you just that intuitive. 
------
“That’s very nice of her, Master Tengen.” The young man smiles a little. Tengen shakes his head at his naivety.  
“To a degree it is. But no one should burden themselves with something that isn’t their job. Sukuna had then grown the idea that our teacher needed to be his, and his alone. His safety net.” 
“Is that a good thing?” 
“No. At that moment he believed that he was to be supported in everything, no matter how wicked. Our teacher was not that kind of person. With her lessons, she expected greatness for the good of things. Not for evil will.” 
 The young man slowly nods. Tengen can see that the young man was confused of his teacher’s role in Sukuna’s life. Tengen leans in slightly. “She was his friend and teacher. Someone to guide him and be there for him. Not his leader or his caretaker. There is a difference between a deity and a teacher. A friend and a mother.” 
“Deity? Mother?”  
Tengen leans back in his seat. “He put her on a pedestal that she was never meant to fill. And my beloved teacher, no matter how kind and graceful, could not fill it. Unfortunately, he would soon find that out.” 
  The young man looked confused and shocked. Did Sukuna really believe that she was strong like that? Why would he place her in that role?  
“One of the worst things about this poor story is that my teacher was so eager to gain a friend and student, that she unknowingly raised a monster who would end it all.” 
------
“Okay, so do it like this.” You press your hand to the ground, massaging the grass between your fingers. You eyes are closed and there is a small smile on your pretty face. It looks content, peaceful. 
“This is meditating.” You nod and push him down to the ground. “It is about connecting to the spirits, y’know.” 
 He sighs, wondering how he had gotten into this predicament with you. All you did was offer to help him control his ability. Apparently, you and he are the only ones so far. From what you told him, that is not possible. He originally wondered why and how. Sukuna is enjoying himself now. He doesn't want this to end, so he doesn't care. 
Opening his eyes, he looks at you. “What are you going to do now?” 
“Sh.” 
“I’m serious. What are you going to do?” He doesn’t mean the meditating or whatever the fuck this is. He means overall. What is the grand idea? You tap your chin. 
 “I keep telling you that you are not alone. I want to find more of us and build.” You stretch out your arms, exaggerating the size. He doesn’t like where this is going.  
“How?” 
  You lean closer. “I’m saying, why not find a couple of people and teach them?”  Sukuna couldn’t help but shake his head at the thought. The ability to do the things that they do has to be born. Not taught. That is the only explanation. 
“No.” His refusal wasn’t just him trying to get his friend some sense, but to deny a possibility of interruptions and interference between their friendship. 
“Stingy...” You whisper. He scoffs and puts you back into your place. “Continue to teach me.” 
He touches the ground like you tell him to. Feel the earth, the life under his hands. “In order to make your energy manifest right, you have to learn about others and the spirits.” 
What he hears is not your desire to make friends but to judge the strength of people. He has yet to meet any that impresses him. You have but only because he views you as an equal and someone that will not lower him. You have promised to get rid of his pain as well. 
Growling, he stops to stare at you. “What are you not understanding?” You cock your head to the side at his question, confused at where he is getting. Sukuna continues to berate your way of thinking. 
“We may be the only ones. We should build on that only.” He punches the ground in frustration. Is it wrong for him to want it to be just the two of you?  
  Sukuna knows you are a bit off of your rocker. All the time he known you, your hair has never been in place, your clothes have always been askew. The skirt you used to wear was never tied right. Now since the change of fashion, you still have not gained a grain of sense and cross your kimono wrong. Not only this, but you go without shoes and constantly touch everything. How many things have you broken by now, he will never know.  
  It is what drew him to you. That and the fact that you are not scared of him in the slightest. You stare up at him when you are not given permission. You do not sit properly and are not concerned with people’s opinions. To him, you are worthy of being his friend, his teacher with your wisdom and can-do attitude. The dismissal of the close-minded thinking inspires him. 
 “Negative emotions spur on our ability, can’t you tell? What if we-” 
“You.” There is no ‘we’ in this building crap. 
  You reach up and close his eyes for him and repeat what you were trying to say. “Negative emotions spur on the connection, I find. Anger is akin to flame. It grows and eats at everything. Maybe think of it like that? I’ll find others, I know I can.” His stomach grumbles.  
  Sukuna’s face warms. With his eyes still closed, he hears shuffling. Something is then pressed against his lips. “Bite!” 
He does so. It’s rice. You’re feeding him. Sukuna is not your husband by a long shot. In fact, Sukuna doesn’t think it is proper for you to be how you are anyway. And he loves it. 
 “What the fuck are you? My servant?” 
“So? You’re my student and my dearest friend. I am not letting you go hungry.” 
He takes another bite. This time, you gave him fish. He wonders on how you managed to hide all of this. “What do you feel now?” 
“Still hungry.” You groan at his response. He doesn’t see the sly smile you have. “I was thinking...maybe I can find others today. Who knows? Maybe they can help you.” 
He grabs your wrist. “Mind your tongue. I do not need help.” At least not theirs. The only help he needed was yours. You are to help him bear his energy. It is what you said you’d do. 
When he talked, he moved his right hand for emphasis. Just like that, it created a slice. Everything in its path got completely chopped, as if it were done by a knife. 
  You gasp. He looked shocked at first, then smug. You pet the giant’s pinkish head. It seems that his technique comes from cooking. With chopping, with fire, it all seems like cooking. Just like you predicted. 
  He lets you position him in a fighting stance. “Follow me!” So, he does. Sukuna will not admit it because of pride, but he will always follow you. Sukuna moves his hands as quick as you do. Side by side the two of you cut through the air with punches and kicks.  
“You’re strong, so stand tall!” You yell. He takes it to heart as he does with everything you teach him. Even though he will never say that you are teaching him. He'd rather die than confess that it is you that has taught him to take his curse energy and manifest it. Sukuna will never tell that it is you that taught him what true jujutsu is.  
  After teaching him different forms, you then turn to each other. For minutes the two of you fight. Not enough to harm each other but enough to gather each other’s fighting techniques. Sukuna has never asked you where you learned all of this. Maybe he never will.  
  Adding onto the sparring the two of you gather each other’s energy and begin to really fight. Nothing is held back by Sukuna. The size difference between you two would make anyone vote in Sukuna’s favor. Little do they know that you are mighty. Throughout your fight you bring out charms and weapons like always. He has never questioned why.  
“Like a flash of black lightning, should you flow with energy.” With a deep breath, you launch your fist that was riddled with energy. In the air lands a powerful blow that creates a beautiful force. Your eyes look so lost in it. And Sukuna was caught in it.  
It hurt like a bitch.  
On the ground coughing, he asks, “How do I do that?” Snapping out of it, you tell him. “Get lost in it. Feel it and indulge.” Sukuna closes his eyes tightly. He wants to learn more, just like you. He wants to learn what you mean by true jujutsu. He wants to get lost in it with you, and only you.  
  You have surpassed all of the things he expected from you. And to think, you, someone of the same lowly status, is here teaching him when you should be doing whatever the fuck else. Definitely not talking to him. The monster.  
You teach him to feel the energy of his emotions, to constantly be aware of himself and others.  
 “This will help me, right? Not just make me stronger but also make the pain go away?” 
 “Of course.” 
 Sukuna sees you walk towards the blind man with shining white hair. The white-haired man clenches his fist, clearly annoyed with how everything is just too much. The man knows he is odd. He is young but has white hair, he is blind yet can move around, and is incredibly tall. The world is just too much though. You walk up to him as he sits on the stones.  
“Are you alright?” 
“No.” He is quick to answer. He reminds you of Sukuna, you think. His cursed energy is heavy and dense. Contained but so strong. 
 Sukuna sees you get closer. He doesn’t like this, but he understands your way of thinking. Honestly, he prefers it to be just you and him. His ambitions to be strong and who knows? Maybe throw the hierarchy. With his wonderous sightings, people are already in wonder and fear him. 
The white haired man goes to push you away. Sukuna sits back and watches. You frown at the white-haired man. There isn’t anything wrong you tell him. “Can you come with us?” 
You grab his hand and lead him with Sukuna tagging along. “Where are we going?” He asks. 
“I want you to open your mind, is all. There is so much here. So much curse energy it’s practically buzzing!” Sukuna walks in front of you rather than by your side.  
Later, Sukuna sees you help this man the way you did him. Touching the ground and working his negative energy into manifesting. As long as he has an open mind, you say. Curiosity is an amazing thing, you remind him. 
While you help that man, Sukuna helps himself. He begins to perfect his technique. Something you found out with him. It is believed that a technique manifests according to the person. With Sukuna’s gluttony, it fit him to have a technique that is the equivalent to cooking, cutting, frying, and containing. Things he has done in his own kitchen. Things that he has seen you do while making him food. 
  This blind man, Gojo, however, begins to see. His eyes are a sparkling blue and the amount of space around him starts to morph into power. His power is close to Sukuna’s, but the latter has had it longer and is more experienced. 
  “I...want more students. Is that wrong of me?” You ask your friend.
The blind man dances excitedly, totally happy that he can see, even though that sight is more than he bargained for as it begins to hurt. Sukuna answers you as he sits on the ground next to you.  
  The three of you have moved to the hills surrounded by nothing but peace. The grass is green and the waters are filled with tranquility. Here is where you can feel it all. The earth has negative, or as you have officially called it, cursed energy. But the plants have nothing but positive. 
 It’s the balance that is here is what makes it so easy to walk, is what you said. 
“It’s not wrong of you to want more. But be careful...the people are starting to fuss.” You blow a raspberry at him. “Not because of me, but you. You shouldn’t have robbed them, Sukuna.” 
“Did I not give to those in need?” 
“For praise and worship.” 
 He looks down now. Not hiding his irritation and frustration towards you at all. “Mind your fucking tongue.” He growls. How many times must he tell you? 
Alas, you have never been afraid to look him in the eye. “Sukuna, promise me you won’t hurt others anymore. We’re supposed to help them! There are little monsters everywhere and people can’t defend themselves from them.” 
 Sukuna rolls his eyes and says that you are too righteous and that the people need to know the food chain. He never says who is on top of the food chain though. But the implication was as clear as day. Unfortunately, you had been blind to that. 
Along with Gojo, you have ‘adopted’ another named Kamo, a man whose blood flow is weak and was on the brink of death. Just as you suspected, his technique was directly related to his cursed energy from his affliction. With the ability to manipulate his own blood, he became strong and healthy.  
Another you took in is named Zenin. A woman who burned in the sun thus stayed in the shadows. She is able to go outside now and mess around with her shadows who she found solace in. The other, Inumaki, was a slick and snake like man that was mute. Unfortunately, every word he said was hypnotic. After, came Tengen. He looked a few years younger than them all with a babyface. 
  His technique as the rest found, was immortality and had a proficiency in barriers. He constantly looked after the little place you now called home. Tengen is not a combatant but does hang closely around you to learn about jujutsu. He had been around for about five hundred years, but to learn what jujutsu truly was, was new to him. 
  By this time, Sukuna rarely spent time with them. He barely knew them or their techniques. In the year 799, five years after you met Sukuna, you had built buildings for those with jujutsu and had nowhere to go.  
 Sukuna could not hide his dissatisfaction if he tried. Especially those with such weak curse energy that they blended in with normal people. Some of them lacked even that. 
  Why should he not be offended? He is the strongest. All the ones who try to fight him end up losing. He respects the strong and the strong only.  
  “Aren’t you going to help? Don’t get me wrong, I like that you practice and respect the spirits, but shouldn’t you help?” 
  Sukuna walks toward you. “You dare tell me what to do?” 
You had already noticed how big his head was getting. In the villages, he had already instilled fear and admiration. His cursed energy had somehow passed to others. Without any definite proof of how it happens, you only had theories. One of them is that his increase of cursed energy is brought on by how tainted he is becoming. His cursed energy is rubbing off on those who had slightly higher cursed energy than normal humans.  
You were becoming concerned that one day it wouldn’t just be people that would be affected, but cursed spirits.  
 And he takes no responsibility for them. That little fact is one he tends to ignore. You had first heard about it when Tengen saw that a child had suddenly started seeing cursed spirits and was ostracized. Naturally, you went and asked what had happened but did not fail to notice the devastation of the village.  
  There were crops plucked with no villagers enjoying them. Houses had caved and the ground was dented. Seeing that the little boy had just gained the ability to manifest his cursed energy, you drew the conclusion that it was him that did it.  
  There was so much of Sukuna’s remnants that you did not want to see. His scent was clearly there. Your theory was being proven. And that meant Sukuna, your dearest friend, was becoming out of control.  
  “Of course I do. I’m your teacher.”  He slams you against a tree, pinning you to it. His hands on the side of your head, caging you in. “You? I already knew what to do. You were for decoration.” 
Lies, all lies. He had a lot of curse energy and was only able to do a little due to his own set limits. It was you who brought it out and taught him the ways of true jujutsu. The one thing you had yet to conquer was the torment that his cursed energy brought. As time went on, the pain caused by it increased. He has gone to you about it several times and you have yet to act.  
  You touch his face. The only one allowed to do so. He closes his eyes, silently enjoying the feeling. “Don't let your pride and ego corrupt you.” 
“I do no such thing.” Rolling your eyes, you move to get out of his cage. Sukuna refuses to move and instead likes the feeling of it all. His curse energy has always been immense. Yours was less obvious and you had always liked to use it sparingly. As he has fought with you for five years, he has learned that his friend has a lot more agility than brutality. Sukuna has only seen pieces of your technique. You were a master of hiding your energy now, too.  
  He was so focused on improving himself that he doesn’t know what it is and how much cursed energy you have. What he has taken note of is that you tend to use charms and weapons. However, black flash is a specialty of yours. Not even he can use it as often as you do.  
 “You are disrespecting the spirits again, aren’t you?” If there is one thing Sukuna knows, it is that you are protective of them, sorcerers, and people. But he is not.  
He scoffs and backs up a little. “Why is that your concern?” 
  Growling you poke his chest. “Because you’re not supposed to! You’re supposed to care for them!” 
Sukuna scoffs at you. Gripping your chin, he says, “You are not the boss of me, remember that.” 
 Sukuna groans at the ache in his sides, right under his arm pit. Hearing this, you gently place your hands on his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” 
He stares at you. “When will you help me with my cursed energy?” 
“Don’t I already do that? Look how strong you are!” 
You promised you’d help him control it, not neglect his pain. Even though Sukuna makes his own choices and is responsible for them, you are encouraging it by your pride about how strong he is.  
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ftwskinkmeme · 2 years ago
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FTWS KINK MEME 2023
Check out the full event rules below the cut!
WHAT IS A KINKMEME?
A kinkmeme is where we anonymously ask for and anonymously create works that are often — but not strictly — kinky, either fanfiction, fanart or any type of content you decide to ask for or make!
These prompts and fills can be as quick and dirty or as long and detailed as the author wants. It can be viewed as a challenge to work on as many fills as you can in the duration of the event, or a challenge to do something you wouldn’t do if you weren’t anonymous, etc.
To find out more about the history of kinkmemes, you can read it here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kink_Meme 
HOW CAN I PARTICIPATE?
Anyone can be part of the kinkmeme, either just suggesting prompts or filling out requests, or both!
By using the platform DREAMWIDTH, it can all be done anonymously so no one has to be ashamed or shy about it. You just have to go to the PROMPTS post and then comment on it with your idea. If you like someone's prompt you can then answer that comment with your work, be it directly writing it in the reply or adding a link to the anonymous story in AO3! (If you’re doing fanart, it can also be posted anonymously on AO3)
Reminder that the fills do not have to be extensive. The idea here is to have fun and quick & dirty will do just fine! 
WHEN CAN I SEND OR FILL OUT PROMPTS?
The event will run from Feb 11th to Feb 23 so any prompts or fills need to be sent within this timeframe. After that it will be done and although you’re still welcome to be inspired by a prompt, it’ll have to be posted directly on AO3, seeing as the dreamwidth meme will be closed (just don’t forget to add to the AO3 collection).
The short window allows for a more engaging event! 
WHAT IF I DON’T WANT TO FILL PROMPTS ANONYMOUSLY?
For the fun of the event, everything MUST be anonymous, however feel free to reveal yourself once the event is over and even post your work to our collection in AO3.
ARE ALL SHIPS AND KINKS ALLOWED?
Any ship in the Fate: The Winx Saga universe is allowed, be it canon or not.
Any kink is allowed, however you MUST include a warning for the following at the title of your prompt or fill: dub-con, non-con/rape, incest, under 16, violence, necrophilia, bestiality, age gap (over 10 years gap) and CSA (child sexual abuse).
RPF (real person fiction) is also allowed, provided it is correctly tagged so people can filter it out. 
CAN I FILL A PROMPT THAT’S ALREADY BEEN FILLED?
Yes! You absolutely can, but you CANNOT continue fills that are not yours without the original author’s permission. If you’re inspired by another fill but your work is different from the previous one, just don’t forget to link it and say: “This work is inspired by [...]”
CAN I FILL MY OWN PROMPT OR FILL UNPROMPTED
Yes! It’s all anonymous so no one’s gonna know if you fill your own prompt. In fact, in order to keep the prompts and fills organized, if you write something that hasn’t been prompted we ask for you to first write a prompt and then answer it with your fill.
CAN I COMMENT ON A FILL WITH MY THOUGHTS ON IT?
Comments are encouraged! However DO NOT comment negatively, express hate, or kinkshame (saying that a kink is disgusting or morally wrong). This is a Your Kink Is Not My Kink space. Positive comments and feedback only!
DOES THE PROMPT OR FILL HAVE TO BE KINKY OR SMUTTY?
Not at all! If the prompt isn’t explicitly asking for smut or kink you can definitely write something gen, teen or mature!
FIND MORE INFORMATION ON HOW A PROMPT OR FILL SHOULD BE POSTED HERE:
In the SUBJECT portion of the comment, use this format: “CHARACTER X CHARACTER + KINK/TROPE (TW: XXXXX)” (If there's no trigger warning, just leave this bit out). In the comment itself you can expand on your prompt, be as vague or as specific as you’d like!
Don’t forget to select the ANONYMOUS option. That way you don’t have to create an account to post a prompt, comment, or fill.
Please write your fill first in a word document/google doc and then paste it here, or provide an AO3 anonymous story link, seeing as if it breaches any of the rules above it will be deleted. Back up your stories!  If your story got deleted for improper tagging, you're welcome to upload it again with the correct tagging.
Please don't hesitate to reach out to one of the mods, be it here, via discord or tumblr.
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blvckqwz · 10 months ago
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13. Karma
TW FOR SA AND MENTIONS OF RAPE 
The sound of a shot rang in Isabelle’s ears as time seemed to freeze, everyone in the room holding a breath as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. Then a thump, followed by another shoot. Then deadly silence. And it was over, just like that.
Isabelle didn’t know if they could all be ever the same again, as she exited the hospital. She knew that she couldn’t.
The day had begun like it always did, with a harish slap coming down Isabelle’s already bruised face, the sting not even surprising her anymore as she stared right into Dawn’s eyes before returning to her work. The woman was angry at some officers for not replying to the radio, which was unfortunate for those who were around her. It brought memories back to Isabelle’s mind, memories that she had tried to bury away.
“I’ll go help Percy.” Isabelle murmured before exiting the office, the cop’s eyes bitter on her as she turned her back. It had been only a few weeks since she had arrived at the hospital, but to her it felt like months, years even. She had forgotten how it smelt outside, hot it felt to have the sun above her head.
This place reeked of cheap disinfectant and sadness, the officers were mean, and rude, and creepy. And she hated it, she hated that hospital, she hated those yellowish walls, she hated those infinite hallways, she hated the beeping sounds that followed her from room to room.
“No, Percy, tell me. Should I use smaller words?” An officer yelled towards Percy, an elderly man that was there as a slave just like her, “Is the directive fix the hole in my sleeve too complicated for you?
The officer’s name was O’Donnell, Isabelle could read it on the shiny tag pinned on his uniform. He was mean, not like Dawn or like Gorman, but still mean. Two days before a girl had killed herself, Joan, a woman in her twenties. Isabelle understood why she did it, but after Beth told her what happened to her, she understood even more.
She had been raped. In that hospital. By officers. And he was among the ones that laughed.
Isabelle’s skin crawled as she thought about the fact that she was under the same roof as a rapist. She knew what the word meant more than she would like, even if Beth tried to dance around it.
“I'm sorry. I forgot.” The old man murmured. It broke Isabelle’s heart to see him like this.
“Well, here's an idea.” O’Donnell’s face contorted in an evil smirk, “Don't forget.”
Then the officer turned to her, “Get here.” He ordered.
Isabelle hesitantly walked towards the man.
“You any good with needle and thread?” He asked. The girl nodded. “Then you’ll do it.” He stated before taking off his jacket and throwing it to the old man.”Let’s see if you learn anything, senile.” He smirked as he walked away.
Isabelle waited until the man turned to another hallway before picking up the jacket and turning to the old man, “Are you okay?”
Percy weakly nodded, “I’m sorry, I won’t learn very well. Sometimes I forget things.”
The girl smiled, “It’s okay, I don’t mind repeating things.”
She didn’t really know how to stitch, at least not very well. Her hands usually shook too bad to center the needle hole, and she wasn’t very patient. The only reason that she said that she did was to stop that officer from bullying the old man, but she knew that she would get beaten for lying.
So she worked as hard as she could on the jacket, hoping to fool O’Donnell into believing that she knew what she was doing. Percy was probably believing her, because he nodded every now and then as she explained what she was doing. Then someone called him, so she waved her goodbyes to the old man before carefully returning to her work.
And that’s when it all began to fall down. Because he entered the room. At first his eyes were on her hands, following every movement, making sure that she didn’t make any mistake as she sewed up his colleague’s jacket. Then Isabelle could feel that his gaze moved somewhere else, and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Can I help you?” Her hand began to tremble even more as she purposely kept facing the jacket, afraid that if she turned around she would begin the chase. She could hear him licking his lips and she began to pray for any mercy. That if she had to endure that she would rather get killed now.
“I just came to say hello.” He replied as she could feel him shift closer. Her heart was thumping in her chest like it wanted to break free and escape from the horrible things that were about to happen. She couldn’t help but share the same desire.
“Hello.” She murmured as she focussed even more in patching the jacket in front of her. But she knew that he wasn’t going to stop, they never do.
“You are good at this.” Gorman noticed as he came even closer, his chest almost touching the girl’s back. Isabelle felt her breath stop as a hand brushed her arm, her skin crawling, begging her to run away. The hand then moved to her brown hair, brushing them lightly as he began to whistle, and Isabelle almost gagged.
“Girl’s should keep their hair long, you know?” He commented as he kept running his disgusting fingers through her locks, “Good thing you can make them grow long now. There is no need to cut them anymore.”
And he didn’t know how wrong he was. Because her mom always said that cutting her hair short was to keep bad men away, and right now one of them was beside her. So he was wrong, and the only thing Isabelle wanted to do was chop all her hair, even if she liked them longer.
She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she studied the needle in her hand. Too thin to cause damage, maybe if she shoved it in his eye, but then what? Her mind went back to the girl who killed herself.
“You never told me your name.” Gorman continued before stopping running his hand in her hair. “Care to tell me now?”
“Isabelle.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she could already feel tears on her cheeks. Gordon must have felt them too, because he grabbed her shoulder and made her turn around before raising the hand that wasn’t still uncomfortably gripping to her shoulder and brushing her cheek, wiping away the few tears.
“You are a smart girl Isabelle.” Her name falling from his lips felt disgusting, almost like a threat. It felt wrong, everything did, “That’s why I picked you.”
Isabelle was now face to face with the man, her scared eyes avoiding his hungry ones as if that could somehow help her. She could feel his breath tickling her still wet cheeks and she felt like dying.
“Don’t cry.” His voice sounded like they were having a friendly conversation, but his words were violent, “It won’t help you.”
“Please.” She murmured as she tried to back down, “Please leave me alone.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Gorman sighed like it was really not his fault, and Isabelle felt even more sick in her stomach knowing that he didn’t even recognize his disgusting behavior.
“If you go away now, I won’t say anything.” The girl promised, and she almost cursed herself for her naivety. He wasn’t leaving. And she wasn’t either, his grip on her shoulder making sure of that.
“You won’t say anything.” Gorman repeated, “I know you won’t.”
She wished that she could tell him to not be so sure of himself, but she knew that guilt and shame would close her throat and kill down any word she would say, eating herself from the inside.
Her back hit the table and she had to stop backing away from the demon in front of her. So he took it as a chance to get even closer to her, because they always do. And his breath started ticking against her cheeks again.
And she wanted to die.
She closed her eyes as she could feel his hand let go of her shoulder before wandering to her arm, and then even lower. Fear made her shake like a leaf as she kept her eyes closed shut, already knowing what was about to happen.
Then she heard a zipper flying open, and she knew it was the end. That she would just become another Joan in a world already full of them. She could hear him shifting and struggling as he unbuttoned his pants, but she didn’t dare to open her eyes. She could only hear him murmuring things she couldn’t quite catch and the sound of fabric moving.
Then the sound of the door flying open.
“Leave her alone.” Percy’s voice sounded firm for the first time since Isabelle had met him, “She’s a kid Gorman.”
“Go back to work.” The officer barked.
“She’s a kid.” She could hear the old man repeat.
“Percy.” She heard Gorman say as he pushed himself off her, “Go back to work.”
Isabelle opened her eyes just in time to see the cop smashing the old man’s head against the white door, leaving stains of red on it. Then he did it again, and again. Isabelle winched at the sound of flesh hitting the surface with disgustings splashes as she quickly looked away to find something to use once Gorman was done with the man.
Her hands were still shaking and they were coated in cold sweat as she opened every drawer she could find, desperately looking for anything she could use as a weapon. She was so focussed on her search that she didn’t notice the thumps stopping. Isabelle looked around to find Gorman crouched next to the bloodied man, two fingers pressed against his neck as he tried to find a pulse. He probably didn’t, because he let out a curse as he rubbed his hand now covered in Percy’s blood over his face.
Then the girl made the mistake of letting out a cry as she watched the pool of dark crimson blood expanding from the wounds on the old man’s face. It was a juvenile error, one that a thirteen year old girl would make after seeing another person’s life end. Gorman’s attention was again on the teen, his eyes dangerously glowing as he launched towards her, a hand on her mouth while the other grabbed her hair, forcing her to stay still.
“You didn’t see anything!” He yelled, “I didn’t do anything. He killed himself.”
And Isabelle hated herself for nodding, accepting to cover for the horrible man and his horrible pervasion. The weird little tricks fear has on a person. Percy must have been scared of Gorman, but that didn’t stop him from protecting her. And she was willing to cover for his gruesome murder.
She was ashamed of herself, but she still nodded. Maybe after the man had satisfied his blood lust, he would forget about his previous one, she naively thought. Maybe he would leave her alone, afraid that she may talk if he did another bad thing. But he didn’t, because they never do.
Because there are no consequences for a man’s wickedness, only the weak naive girls were left to pay. And guilt gnawed their innocent hearts as they watched the monsters fest on their body.
“I knew it.” He murmured, “You are so smart, right?”
The words echoed in Isabelle’s mind, flashbacks she wished that she didn’t have taking over her rotting brain.
“Start running.”
Alex had said the same words before, at Terminus, when he was trying to kill her.And she did, as fast as her aching legs allowed, straight to the door. But he grabbed her, throwing her on the hard floor. She hissed in pain. He was right, she in fact was malnourished, and had been for a long time.
He wanted her blood, just like the new monster now in front of her did.
“I’ve got you.” The sick grin was back on the man’s face as he lowered himself, “No more games.” He turned serious as he grabbed her by her arm and shoved her against a table, making her hit her head.
He pinned her down, and she couldn’t breathe. She also couldn’t breathe now, as Gorman tried to start again what he had previously initiated.
Isabelle let out a cry as she felt hot liquid pouring from her head on her neck and back. A fist landed on her cheekbone, “You think you are so clever, uh?” He was furious now, totally deranged, “You are so smart, right?” Another punch.
“You are so smart.” Gorman repeated as he lifted her shirt, his gross hands touching her bare stomach.
Red filled her vision, and the girl could swear that she was having a concussion with all those hits on the head.
Red filled her vision as she felt callous fingers on her skin. Her hands wandered around her, blindly trying to grab anything that could help her. Her fingers traced all the objects on the table behind her, but nothing seemed good enough.
“Good girl.” The vicious man murmured as he played with the waistband of her trousers, too preoccupied in his degenerate fantasy to notice the girl’s small finger wrapping themself around a small but sharp object behind her back.
It was only then the pen got jammed in his jugular that he became alert again, but it was late, because the black ink was already mixing with the red blood, the girl hissing as she pressed the nib in the man’s neck, both tears and blood smearing her face once again.
The man stumbled backwards, slipping his hands off under the girl’s shirt to hold his bloodied neck, and Isabelle could swear that she almost saw betrayal in his eyes as she kicked him in the chest, causing him to fall on the old man’s corpse.
She ran out of the room as soon as the man was on the ground, but she could still hear his scream in agony as he got eaten alive by the walker. Call it karma or whatever.
“Isabelle!” Beth’s voice rang across the empty hallways as she took notice of the young girl’s disheveled look. Her shirt was half lifted, her skin, hair and clothes all bloodied. It didn’t take long for the blonde to understand what had happened, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as she watched Isabelle’s teary eyes.
She had warned her about Gorman, but she couldn’t bring herself to repeat what he had done to her, what he would do to her. And now it was too late. She tried to catch a glimpse of her eyes, but she was keeping them low now, avoiding any type of eye contact.
“They came for us, Isabelle.” Beth said as she rested a hand on Isabelle’s forearm. The girl flinched at the touch, and the oldest girl immediately backed down.
“You have to change, they are waiting for us.” The blonde insisted as she handed the young girl her old clothes. Isabelle studied the pile of clothes in her hands, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She couldn’t think of anything.
She felt Beth pulling her in a hug, and this time she didn’t flinch. Instead she stayed still like a rag doll, allowing the older girl to slip something cold and sharp in her limp hand, closing her fist over the younger girl’s one. “We’ll get out.” The blonde murmured before pulling away.
But Isabelle’s eyes were still fixed on the shiny floor, and aside from her fist clenched around the bisturi she had handed her, Beth had no clue if she had understood anything she said. “Isabelle you can change here, I’ll keep guard.” The blonde said as she nodded towards an empty room.
This time the girl gave a sign of understanding as she slightly nodded her head before dragging herself into the room, and Beth could hear the key twisting into the lock immediately after she closed the door. She just swallowed the lump of guilt in her throat before resting her back on the door, making sure that no one dared to come near the girl. God only knew that she had already been through enough.
But God didn’t care, Isabelle thought as she stared at the dusty mirror in the half illuminated room,disgusted by her own reflection. It wasn’t fair, but then why did it feel like a payback? She had killed someone again.
Isabelle huffed as she picked the mirror and carefully turned it around so that it was now facing the wall. It made her feel a little better, but the shame was still there. And she didn’t even have soap to scrub it away this time.
The girl reluctantly peeled her blood wrenched shirt off her sweaty body, almost letting out a sob at the feeling of the cool air against her bare torso. She tried to wipe the blood off her arms with the cloth that was once her shirt, but she didn’t have any water to clean it off, so it didn't really work.
Isabelle stared at the red stains on her too pale skin and started to become more and more frantic as she ran the rough fabric on herself, not even feeling a sting of pain as the cloth scratched her arms. She started to become delirious when the stains didn’t come off even once she had made her skin raw red.
A ugly sob escaped from the back of her throat as she kept scrubbing, her irritated skin turning an angry shade of red. She could hear someone banging on the door as she got even more furious, her sobs turning frenetic as she could feel her throat closing.
“Isabelle, open the door!” Beth called from the other side as she uselessly tried to open the door, “I’m here to help you, please open the door.”
But Isabelle couldn’t even hear her, let alone reply. Her mind was clouded, her brain completely shutting off as she kept scrubbing off the blood. But it wasn’t going away.
She didn’t know when she finally answered Beth’s pleadings and opened the door, she just remembered her hugging her, telling her that everything was okay, even if it wasn’t. And then, when she explained that she had been trying to wipe the blood off her arm, the older girl gave her a confused look before grabbing her arm, careful not to hurt the raw skin.
“There aren’t any stains here, Isabelle.” She said it with the same concern she had heard from the doctors when they asked her if she had understood what had happened that infamous night of mid july. And she did the same thing she did back then: She shook her head in confusion.
“It’s okay, I’ll help you.” The last thing she remembered was Beth’s hushed tone, “Is that okay?” Isabelle nodded. Everything after that was a blur.
She assumed that Beth had helped her change, brushed her hair, and then cleaned the blood off her with a wet towel, because when she caught a glimpse of her reflection as she and Beth walked towards the hall where the exchange was supposed to happen, she almost looked decent. But deep down she knew that she wasn’t.
Beth’s grip on her hand tightened as she shot her a half smile, trying to reassure her as they were escorted by the officers. Isabelle had a thought, last night, a very selfish one. A horrible one.
She wondered how her life would have been if she was born a Greene and not a Dixon. During their late night talks, Beth told her about her and Maggie’s father, about the beautiful farm they had. Isabelle would have liked living there. She liked farms and she liked animals. At least she liked them better than trailers that reek of beer.
But she felt guilty for thinking that. Because her parents tried the best they would. Most of the time. They gave her a roof and food. Her mom gave her clothes that she got from work and her uncle had built her a bike, even if it was a bit ugly and didn’t really work well. Her dad used to take her on car rides with his truck in the summers, and he let her roll down the windows and put her head out to feel the wind as long as other cars weren’t around.
She had lived a happy life. But then why did she feel almost jealous of Beth’s childhood? She knew that if she had lived like Beth she wouldn’t flinch every time someone made a quick movement around her head. And that she wouldn’t know what CSA stands for. But she wouldn’t know how to climb real fast either. And if she wasn’t a Dixon, she would have had a lot more problems at adapting.
So she was happy to be a Dixon, even if late at night she wished that she was a Greene. Or anyone else but her.
The doors fled open, and her, Beth and the few officers that had taken them there met with the rest of the hospital people, Dwan first in line. Isabelle wondered when they were going to notice that Gorman wasnìt with them. She pushed the thought away because it was making her sick.
The first person of her group that she noticed was her father. He looked so out of place between the shiny floor and the neat walls, but he still stood his ground. Their eyes met for a brief second, and Isabelle wished that she could muster up the strength to fake a smile, just to let him know that she was okay. But she wasn’t, so she instead just stared at him until his eyes moved back to Rick, who was standing a few feets from him.
Carl wasn’t there, Isabelle noticed, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment. But she knew that it was safer this way, and that she would see him again soon. And that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to be okay, because she always was.
“Holster your weapons.” Dawn ordered in her usual cold tone. Isabelle looked at the other people among her group. There was Tyreese with Sasha, Carol, who shot Isabelle a half smile as her eyes landed on her, and a boy Isabelle didn’t know. He looked to be a bit older than her, but still a child. Maybe he was about Beth’s age.
“Where's Lamson?”
“Rotters got him.” Rick said, and for some reason Isabelle didn’t believe him. But either way it was okay, because she was in no place to judge.
“We saw it go down.” One of the hostages affirmed.
“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.” Dawn said, “He was one of the good guys.” Isabelle would have rolled her eyes if she had any energy, but that place had completely drawn it from her.
“One of yours for one of mine.” She then added.
“All right.” Rick nodded.
Dawn turned around, landing her eyes on the younger girl, “Move.” She ordered. Isabelle looked up at Beth one instant before letting the other girl’s hand go. She took a few steps towards her group, her eyes never leaving Dawn’s. The woman’s stern gaze was reciprocated by the girl’s angry one. Dawn knew, she had to, and she still let those degenerates do what they did.
“Move.” The cop hissed again, and Isabelle noticed that she had almost stopped in a halt and was now just glaring at the woman. She sent her one last hateful look at the officer before hurrying towards her group.
Rick placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, tilting his head to make sure she was alright. The girl couldn’ bar to meet his gaze, because he was a cop and he was going to read her mind in a second if he saw the hopelessness in her eyes. But she still nodded to let him know that she was okay, more or less. It seemed enough for the policeman at the moment, because he also nodded before letting her go.
The girl walked towards Carol, and she could see the hurt in her father’s eyes as she did so. But she couldn’t go to him, not after knowing that what he had tried to save her from had happened again. So she stuck to Carol’s side, who put a hand on Isabelle’s arm in a protective way, almost as if she was trying to shield her. Isabelle liked Carol, even if they had rarely talked.
Isabelle watched the hostages returning to their group and Beth advancing towards them, smiling as her blonde ponytail swinged from side to side. Then Dawn asked for the boy Isabelle didn’t know, but soon figured out to be the one that escaped a little before she was kidnapped.
“He's one of mine. You have no claim on him.” She said, as if anyone could have a claim on another human being.
“The boy wants to go home, so you have no claim on him.” Rick replied.
“Well, then we don't have a deal.”
The boy spoke up for the first time, “It's okay. I gotta do it.”
“No, it’s not okay.” Beth replied.
It was really sad, especially knowing what awaited him behind those doors. Isabelle felt bad for the boy, guilty even. If she hadn’t let them kidnap her by being so reckless, there would be enough hostages.
Beth and the boy hugged, and Isabelle hid even further behind Carol, like a kid hiding behind his mom. She could feel Carol rubbing her arm as she shut her eyes close and she felt like a little toddler.
“I knew you'd be back.” One of the officers said to the boy once he and Beth walked away from each other. This really upsetted Isabelle, and it must have upsetted Beth even more because she now had an almost wild look in her watery eyes as she turned around, walking up to the officers until she was in front of Dawn.
Isabelle could see her fidgeting with her fingers the hem of her sleeve. Then she caught the shining of metal, and she suddenly became aware of the bisturi Beth had given her earlier. She wanted to stop her, but it was too late.
“I get it now.” Her savior said before stabbing Dawn in the shoulder with a pair of shiny scissors. The shot came immediately after, almost as a reflex. And just like that Beth Greene was dead, her once golden locks now a dark crimson as she hit the floor with a thump.
Isabelle pressed her good hand against her mouth as she suppressed a sob, everything around her becoming blurred, unimportant. She was aware of her father shooting Dawn dead, but she didn’t care. She was aware of Carol trying to pull her away, but she didn’t care.
All she cared about was the girl that was once so kind to her, almost like a sister even if for such a brief period of time, and that now laid lifeless on the cold, not so clean anymore, floor.
For a second Isabelle almost expected a miracle to happen, that in some way the shot didn’t kill the blonde girl and that she would be okay. That they would escape the hospital together like they had said.
But nothing happened.
Isabelle eyed the girl’s brain smeared on the white floor one last time before allowing a sobbing Carol to drag her away. She couldn’t even cry, she just let heavy tears roll down her cheeks without even noticing.
Isabelle didn’t know if they could all be ever the same again, as she exited the hospital. She knew that she couldn’t.
4 notes · View notes
azzyswrld · 8 days ago
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unexpected betrayal - a thing
tw ; brief mentions of blood, crime scenes, thats basically it lol
a/n ; i wrote this a long time ago and decided to share it! if anyone has any feedback or something else of the sort, please share <3 also i dont remember who created the divider i used.. someone tell me if they know.
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“It’s me or them.” My voice carried across the barren field we stood in. I stood tall, trying to hide my fear of losing him. Caspian was my person, and I couldn’t bear to see him walk away. Not after all of this. I waited, watching as he stopped. It was like a slow motion movie as he turned to face me.
“I choose them.” His voice was certain.
“Well.” I couldn’t find anything else to say, the lump in my throat growing harder to swallow. I know exactly how it feels to try not to cry in front of someone you love– but this was ten times worse. My eyes burned from the tears I blinked away. The darkness practically swallowed me whole as I watched him walk away. Before I knew it, he had practically disappeared from view. My knees wobbled as I found no strength to continue to stand. I let myself fall where I was, feeling the grass against my skin. I tried to find a proper explanation for it all, but nothing came. I closed my eyes and waited for unconsciousness to swallow me.
-
I don’t know how long I stayed there. It was quiet, without much noise, so there wasn’t anything to bother me. I rolled over at one point, looking up as the sky began to dawn. Is there a reason to move? I questioned this, running through my most recent interactions. Annalise. The realization brought me to my feet, running through the field to search for the girl I called my best friend. I had to get to her before they did. My entire body burned as I found my way back to the streets of her neighborhood. Gasping for air, I screamed her name into the darkness, as if she’d simply appear.
“ANNALISE!”
Sirens filled my ringing ears. Flashing red and blue lights took over my vision. There it was, the dreaded yellow tape around her front yard. I continued to scream out her name, losing hope with every syllable. Cops surrounded the house. I ran up to one, barely able to speak. “What happened? Where’s Annalise?” I demanded. The man turned to me, shaking his head. “Kid, this is a crime scene. I can’t reveal any information to you.”
That did it. I bolted beneath the yellow tape, hearing sounds of commotion behind me as I ran. I looked around her living room– everything was as it should have been. Hearing heavy footsteps behind me, I took off down the hallway, looking through the rooms. Her parents room caught my eye: blood was all over the bed. No bodies, just… blood. They’d gone after her parents. But where was she? I gave the room one last glance, noticing a message on the wall.
Watch your back, girls.
The realization hit me like a truck. That’s where he went, I thought. Caspian left us to help them. I stood frozen in place as a cop approached me from behind. “Kid, I said this is a crime scene!” I turned to face the man. “I..” I went blank, unable to continue. “What is it? Do you know something we don’t?” I can’t tell them. It’ll put us all in danger. I stayed silent for what seemed like forever. 
“Well?”
I began to walk out of the house, words spilling out as I spoke. “Annalise and I are best friends. We do practically everything together. I didn’t know what was going on until I got some text messages last week.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket, searching my gallery for evidence of it. I handed the officer the phone without another word. The words repeated in my head, over and over. “You’ll see me soon enough.”
“I’ll destroy you.”
“They’ll all forget you.”
“Kid– wait, what’s your name?” The officer asked, handing my phone back to me. “Harper. Harper Black.” He nodded, pointing to his name tag. “Officer Adams. I’m going to coordinate with my team, and we’ll have more questions for you, okay?” I nodded, putting my phone back into my pocket. “Harper, can I see that phone again? We’re going to have to go through these for evidence.” I nodded, handing it to him. “Can I see Annalise? Where is she?” The panicked feelings returned to my body as I said her name.
“She’s down at the station. I’ll have an officer take you. Ross!” A redheaded woman turned, walking over to us. “Can you take Harper here down to the station? She’s the daughter's best friend. Someone has to be there for her.” Ross nodded, motioning for me to follow her to the police cruiser nearby. I did follow her, trying to keep my anxiety at an acceptable level. I had to be in a good state when I saw her. She deserved that much. Ross opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed in. 
“You know, this is the biggest case we’ve seen in quite some time.”
I nodded in agreement. I knew this much. After all, Harding was supposed to be a small town. A peaceful town. Too bad we went and ruined it all. The rest of the short drive to the station was silent; Ross didn’t have anything else to say, and luckily, no questions for me to answer. “Alright, we’re here,” Ross said to me. I got out of the car and hurried into the building as if I knew where I could find Annalise. The front room of the police station was mostly empty– barren desks filled with papers, and a lone few officers watching the place. “This way, she’s in interview room 2.” I glanced around anxiously as we walked towards the room, relief washing over me as I caught a glimpse of her, anxious and scared. Her brown eyes lit up when she saw me, immediately getting up from the seat she sat in. Ross opened the door for me. “I’ll leave you two alone.” With that, she was gone. 
“Harper! Oh god, Harper, what happened?” She asked, watching my expressions change like some sort of animation. 
“Caspian happened. He took their side.” I tried hard to contain the acid in my voice. My pain had turned to anger; he was a traitor now.
Annalise nodded; she understood. “How did you know where I was? Did you go to-” 
I nodded. I knew she couldn’t explain what happened to her parents. It had to be extremely painful. “I did. I thought they came after you. An officer brought me here, but I had to tell them. We can’t do this alone.” She pulled me into a hug– I could hear her suppressed sobs. “Anna, it’s okay. Let it out.” I have to be here for her. I’m all she has. We stood there for what felt like forever, just her and I. Annalise released herself, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry I soaked your shirt,” She said between laughs. “It’s alright… although, we really should get out of here.”
We left the interview room, finding Ross in the reception area. “Where are you two headed?” She asked us, raising an eyebrow. “You know this is going to become something you're involved in, now that we have more information.” Yeah, well we kind of have to tell my parents where we are, I thought. “Well, I have to tell my parents what’s going on, and Annalise can’t stay in a police station.”
“Fair enough. Let me drop you guys off. What’s your address, Harper?” 
My house wasn’t very far from the police station, so it didn’t take long. I looked out the window at my house, knowing it would never feel the same. Annalise and I got out, alone again as we held hands standing before my door. I heard her sigh.
“You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
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It's time I take a stepback (Mick Schumacher)
Becoming parents of three makes you and Mick wonder if a change in the routine is the best option
Note: english is not my first language. I'm a sucker for dad!driver as I've said before, so here's another piece!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: pregnancy
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"So no more work for me?", you frowned. For all you knew, this was going to be a regular check up with your OB, but it didn't seem like the ones you had been in before.
"It's my advice, yes", she noted, "even though your last pregnancies were fine, and we are expecting this one to be, too, its better to be safe. The guidelines we have for people your age and with these numbers suggest that, whenever it is possible, you should rest more towards the end of the pregnancy". As she typed what you assumed your leave on the computer, your husband grabbed your hand in his, resting it on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.
"Should we keep an eye out for anything?", Mick questioned, "the usual signs, really. I know it's only busier now since you have your two little ones at home, but resting as much as possible while still keeping active, drinking loads of water and good eating. If there is anything suspicious, you can just call me or text me", she smiled, handing you the copy and getting up, "thank you so much, have a nice day", you managed to say.
The walk back to the car was done in silence, Mick closing the door on your side before getting to the driver's seat, "whatever you want to say, you can say it now, liebling. I've been with your for a long time and I know when you are keeping something, and you know I won't judge your thoughts", he teased, finding his attempt at making you smile successful.
"What does she mean 'with people your age and numbers'? Was she calling me fat? Or old? Probably both of them", you grumbled, looking to see your husband in a fit of giggles, "Liebling, I'm sorry", he excused himself, "I don't think she meant it in that way, she's just looking out for you and our babygirl. And, fortunately, we can work with what she advised", he reasoned, "besides, Sebastian and Aurora will love the idea of having us around a little more now".
"Still think she called me old and fat", you mumbled, seeing one of your favourite bakeries, "Oh, Mick, can we go there, my love? A croissant would be really good right now", you pouted, smiling when he flickered on the turn signal, "I have the best husband in the world!".
On your way home, you stopped by your workplace, handing in the maternity leave and saying a "see you soon" to all your colleagues before you went to pick up the kids. Aurora couldn't hide her surprise when she saw both of her parents by the gate, "Hey, mama! Hey, papa! Why are you both here today?", she quizzed, holding her hands out so the three of you could walk side by side, "I'm going to take some time off work, so we can spend some more time together from now on", you said as you checked of she fastened her seatbelt properly once you got to the car, "and to rest, too, let's not forget that part", Mick chipped in.
It started raininh when you arrived at Sebastian's pre-school, so Mick grabbed an umbrella and left you and Aurora in the car. "You are okay, right, mama? You're staying home because you need to rest, that's all, right?", your oldest asked, looking into your eyes through the rear view mirror. Unbucklibg your seat belt, you moved around in the space you had so you could face her, "yes, Rora. I'm all good, there's nothing to worry about. Mama just needs rest, and it's always nice that we get to spend more time together, right?", you soother her worries, seeing Seb and Mick walk to the car, "uh-oh", your daughter said, "Sebastian just walked into a big water puddle", she pointed out. Chuckling at your little boy's antics as his father picked him up, you couldn't help but shake your head, "see? It's always nice to have more hands on deck".
"Hi mama! Hi, Rora!", Sebastian greeted, pressing a sloppy kiss on his sister's cheek, "how are you and baby sister?", he asked, "we're doing good, my love. And how was your day?", you asked, fastening your belt again while Mick drove home, "it was good! But now my feet are wet, I have to change when I get home".
While Mick took care of dinner with Seb's help, you helped Aurora with her homework, coming out of her bedroom when Sebastian called, "Mama, Rora!", he yelled as he walked inside after knocking on the door, "Papa and I made lasagna! It's not as good as Oma's, but it's pretty close!", he smiled proudly at their achievement, holding your hand as he helped you down the stairs.
"I hope you didn't start eating without us", Sebastian threatened, "of course we didn't, we know mama takes a little longer on the stairs now", Aurora reasoned, tapping your baby bump cutely as she went around you to sit at the table, "I want that crispy bit, please".
The bedtime routine went smoothly as you both read stories to Aurora and Sebastian, kissing their foreheads goodnight, "I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep right here", you chuckled, arranging the pillows on the sofa.
"Do you want to go back upstairs? I can finish this here quickly and I'll join you in a bit", Mick offered, seeing you contemplate, "you really don't mind?", you squinted, "no, I don't. Go upstairs, beautiful", he added, kissing your lips as he ushered you up the stairs.
As much as you didn't like to admit it, this pregnancy was taking a big toll on you. You had two kids that despite being pretty good and calm still required your attention and energy, and as you approached the third trimester, you started to feel that the mandated rest from your doctor was actually a good decision.
"Oh, you're in bed already?", Mick asked when he closed the bedroom door, seeing you tucked in bed. He quickly did his nighttime routine, grabbing the bottle of oil on his way so he could sit next to you.
"Hi, baby girl", he began, taking the cap off and depositing some on your bump, "you're going to be a lot calmer, we hope, since mama is taking some time off", he kissed your belly button, "we are all going to do something to help her and make sure she doesn't run herself ragged".
"And what is papa going to do? Everytime mama looks at him, she gets even more flustered", you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing him slightly and not expecting his answer, "well, papa had been thinking about retiring", he gulped, looking up at you as his hands continued the ministrations on your skin.
"What?", you fixed your position, sitting properly against the headboard so you could face your husband, "where's this coming from?".
"It's not new, before you think this is because of today's appointment", Mick began, "I've been thinking about retiring so I can be home for you and the kids. With Rora, it was the first time so we managed it, and with Seb we just winged it and went along, but three kids? It's a whole different experience. I can tell that it's a lot more tiring, and while some things get easier because of experience, I wouldn't want you to have to manage three kids on your own", he explained.
"And you'd just leave motorsport? You would stop racing?", you asked, unsure of you were getting his point.
"Yes. I have won championships, I've raced competitively to my heart's content. I have a career that I'm proud of, that I'd like to tell my children about when they grow older. And I also want to spend more time with them, with you. I want to be able to help and be more present in their lives", he reasoned.
"You are present in their lives, Mick", you reasoned, "I know, liebling. But retiring would mean that I'm almost always here, and I want that", he rubbed his thumb on your hand, smoothing the skin, "I've spoken to Toto, and the team are okay with waiting a little bit. They have plans for either way, so it's just a matter of my decision, of our decision".
"You've given this some thought", you mumbled, "and no matter where this goes, my position is the same. As long as it makes you happy, we will be here to support you", you smiled, grabbing his hand and kissing it before placing it back in your bump, playing with his fingers, "I would never want you to give up something that you love so much, but if you want to do it, then me, Rora, Seb and Harriet are going to be here for you", you smiled.
"Thank you, liebling", he kissed your lips, "I love you. Also", he pointed out, "Harriet, hm?".
"I've been thinking about names and Harriet came up. Just trying it out and see how it flows, you know?", you cuddled him, kissing his chest, "I love you so much, Mick".
.
Arriving at home, Mick helped Aurora and Sebastian out of the car before they walked up to the living room together, "when I left them here to go and pick you up from Oma's, Harriet was still asleep, so we have to keep quiet, okay?", he checked, seeing the kids nod as he opened the door.
"Can we come in? I have an excited big sister and big brother here", Mick said as they walked inside. Aurora held her brother's hand in hers, urging him to go in front of her, "go, you can do this", she whispered on his ear.
The small encouragement didn't go unnoticed by you and Mick, deciding to comment on it later, "she was just asleep but she woke up, I guess she's very excited to meet you two", you smiled, arranging the pillows so both kids could sit on either side of you while they peeked at their baby sister, Mick crouching in front of you, "can I give her a kiss, mama?", your son asked, carefully kissing his sister's cheek when you nodded. The baby made a noise that caught him off guard, "Oh, she didn't like it?", he pouted, tears welling in his eyes.
Quickly, Mick caught on the moment, "no, Seb, none of that. She just didn't expect it, maybe. You know when me and mama go to your room to wake you up? You don't like it a lot, right? It's almost the same for Harriet, she wasn't counting on it, that's all", he encouraged, gesturing for his son to try again, this time seeing Aurora do the same as the baby sighed in content, "see? She's happy now, she loves those kisses", Mick finished, looking up and seeing you with teary eyes.
"It's our family, let me cry all I want", you sniffed, "they're happy tears anyway", you announced, kissing all of the children's foreheads before puckering your lips to kiss your husband's.
Later, Mick found himself feeding Harriet while you played with Aurora and Sebastian. He hadn't been home for long, but he could see how you were juggling it. You were still recovering from giving birth, but like he had predicted, three kids was a lot. His mother had stopped by for dinner, taking control of the kitchen as she baked one of her roasts.
"Thank you for this", he said to Corinna, "I don't know how you two have managed this when I wasn't here", he admitted.
"We found it in ourselves", Corinna began, "and she also spoke to me about your plans, or the option that is on the table, I guess", she clarified, wanting to hear more about it from her son.
"I feel accomplished in my career, for now at least. And I want to be involved in their lives. I never felt like dad was not involved because he always made the effort, and I want to do the same. And I want to be there when they wake up, to get them from school, and three kids requires a lot more juggling. I don't want Y/N to have to do all of that juggling, or to stop chasing her dreams because of motherhold", he reasoned, "we're in this together, and I think it's time I take a stepback".
"Corinna, they are asking for you. I may be biased, but they have some pretty cute drawings to show you. Ambiguous when it comes to what they represent, but cute nonetheless", you smiled, seeing your mother in-law wipe her hands on the kitchen towell and heading to the living room where you just were.
"Hi, little bug", you cooed, seeing Harriet resting happily in her father's chest, "you just found the comfiest spot ever, didn't you? I have to share it with three of you now".
"It's a good thing that I'll be here more often then", Mick stated, kissing the top of her head and moving to kiss yours too.
"Are you sure about that?", you asked, looking for any uncertainty in his eyes. You had known him all your life, so it wasn't hard to look for the light fog in his eyes or his nervous eyebrow twitch. But you were met instead with a peaceful expression, eyes glossy and happy. "I'm sure, liebling. I spoke to Toto this morning and I'm retiring. I want to be here with you", he confirmed, feeling your arms wrap around his torso, "I'm so proud of you, Mick, we all are. And I bet the kids will love having your around even more".
"Are you saying their mother won't love having me around more?", he teased, smirking at you, "Oh, as soon as this is all working, their mother knows exactly what to do with that time".
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jinkookspencil · 2 years ago
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take off your glasses | jjk
your eyeglasses gave you sight and comfort, but jungkook looked too sexy wearing his....
description/tw/tags: ~2.1k words / jungkook just finished recording his birthday message for jimin.... and he looked too good in glasses / SMUT (minors DNI) / established relationship / y/n is a little insecure
author's note: inspired by two things: jungkook's birthday message to jimin which was so unnecessarily sexy, AND namjoon jokingly told jk "take off your glasses" in an episode of run and something switched inside me at those words... >.< this is so smutty that idk if i feel comfortable enough sharing to the point where i'm actually considering just doing a jk style complete delete of it with time.... we'll see. as always, any feedback is welcome! <3
“Ah, Jiminie will laugh at that,” Jungkook boasts as he put away his phone. “I guess I have to start recording video messages for all my hyungs now.”
“That’s nice of you,” you utter, sat across from him at the desk, head buried in the book you were reading.
“Baby…” It’s Jungkook’s voice only louder and the air around you had shifted, you realize. Looking up from your book, you found Jungkook standing right behind you.
You had been so immersed in your book you never took in Jungkook’s presence that night - and judging by the way he called you and started rubbing your shoulders, he seemed to be getting needy... But as you look up at him, you realize you also never took in how he looked tonight, the weight of it all hitting you all at once. Towering over you, Jungkook’s long hair - which you had always adored - was ruffled as though he played with it, sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos on his arm while his chest peeked through a couple of undone buttons, and the thing that got you the most…. he was wearing his glasses…
It shocked you when you found out earlier on in your relationship that Jungkook had poor vision too, since he seemed so perfect. But it also helped you feel more at ease for some weird, unknown reason - like you were glad bad eyesight was yet another thing he understood you on, added to the endless list of shared problems, mindsets, beliefs, and interests that always made your relationship feel safe. Yet, unlike you, he always preferred contacts and only wore glasses rarely around the house. The sight of it - and him - took you by surprise.
“Hey,” you say, taking in the sight of him, your shoulders hunched together.
“Hey,” he laughs at your sudden reaction, as if you hadn’t been in the same room for over an hour after he came home from working late at the studio. “Good book, huh?”
“Glasses,” you point out, tilting your head and ignoring his question. “I like it. You should wear them more often.”
“Thanks, but….eh,” he shrugs. “You know I prefer contacts, but I think I need to give my eyes a break from them...”
“Still, you look…really…good. At least wear them more often around the house, for me?”, you stare up at him through your lashes and flash him a smile, rubbing his arm, unaware of the entire effect that’d have on him.
Jungkook rolls his eyes and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Sure, baby,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “But this is a two-way deal, you have to try contacts for me too.”
All you can do is sigh. While Jungkook preferred contacts, you preferred glasses - and for many reasons, as you have made clear to him all the other times he asked you to take them off. Firstly, you were clumsy and the idea of poking at your eyeball regularly felt like a disaster waiting to happen, not to mention it freaked you out, especially the horror stories of people forgetting to take out their contacts. Secondly, someone mentioned once that there were different types and it just seemed like a hassle. And, the biggest reason: glasses helped hide your face. You just never liked the way your face looked. Plus, it didn’t help that your ex once shrieked when you took off your glasses in front of him and told you to keep them on… 
Jungkook’s entirely different. He knew you could be insecure, but instead of feeding your insecurities he never passed an opportunity to tell you that you were beautiful and hype you up, whether you were wearing your glasses or not.... the not being while you got ready every day or during sex and really intense make-out sessions when they just kept getting away.
“Jungkook, you know I -“
“I know, but baby, you’re so beautiful,” he resigns. “I wish you knew that. If only you could see yourself the way I see you. Do you at least see the face I make when you take them off while we kiss?!”
“.....I thought it was just because we're in the heat of the moment.”
“Baby…”, he shakes his head, taking yours in his hands. “It’s like that scene in Business Proposal - it’s funny that I get why girls love that scene more than you do. It’s sexy. YOU are sexy.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, looking down in denial and at your outfit, wondering if you wore anything different that drove Jungkook crazy, but it was just one of his t-shirts and your short shorts that he liked.... but it was nothing special.
“Look at me,” he says, a commanding tone in his voice that you couldn’t ignore. “Take off your glasses.”
“If I take off my glasses I can’t look at you, Jungkook,” you say with a sarcastic tone, but Jungkook doesn’t take any of it, bending down until he was a breath away from your face.
“You can now.”
Your hand reaches up to the frames that sat on your face, and the second you take them off Jungkook’s lips meets yours in a kiss.
“Fuck…,” he sighs into your mouth before meeting it again. His arms wrap around you in an embrace, pulling you up and between his legs as he leaned on the desk. His hands squeeze your butt before toying with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing, taking it off of you the moment you lifted your hands from his shoulders in permission. You wrap your arms over Jungkook’s toned shoulders and around his neck as he felt your back and kissed you - on your lips, your neck, and all over your face. Just as you had gotten lost in his kisses, anticipating where he’d kiss next, his large arms swerve you around until you leaned against the desk and faced him standing between your legs instead. 
A smirk appeared on his face at the sound you let out, and in a flash, Jungkook absentmindedly takes off his glasses and pulls you in for a deeper kiss… Yet you’re too stunned to kiss him back well, grab onto him, or even feel him up.
“…Fuck, okay,” you whisper against his lips. “I get it now - that was… so fucking hot, Jungkook.” 
“Wh- oh.... I didn’t even realize I did that," you feel him smile against your lips, unknowing if he was sincere or if he planned the entire kiss to get you to understand him.
The image of Jungkook replayed itself in your mind, and with the feeling of his lips and bunny teeth brushing against your lips…. you were about to go insane. You wrap your arms around his neck once again, your hands running through his long hair as you pull him into a kiss and he toys with the hooks of your bra.
When they snap open, he wastes no time reaching for the bra between your bodies and chucking it across the room, unbuttoning and stripping off his own shirt before bending down to kiss your chest. You stare down at him, and when his gaze meets yours, you feel your entire body come alive. 
He looked unbelievable and already showed you so much love… You wanted - no, needed, to do the same to him. Reach for Jungkook’s length, you stroke it through his boxers, and, reaching inside them, he grunts as you feel him hard in your hands, only for him to shove your wrist away at the elastic of his underwear.
“Jungkook… let me feel you,” you moan against his face, his forehead brushing against yours as he shakes his head. 
“Lean back,” he commands, and all you can do is obey, already moving backward to lay on the desk the moment his hands find your shoulders. Jungkook hooked his fingers to your underwear, and after raising your hips for him to swiftly pull them off of you, you lift your legs to wrap them around his body…. but he separates them.
“No….,” he says “You won’t be able to see me, but I’ll make sure you feel me.”
His face disappears from view, leaving you nothing but a blurry sight of the ceiling as Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs. “Fuck, baby.” 
The feeling of Jungkook’s tongue clouds every other sensation a human being is capable of, you were unable to register or control even the incredibly loud noises you were both making. He got hungrier as you ruffled his long hair, and when you begin feeling Jungkook’s nose rubbing against your heat, you were unable to hold yourself any longer, letting go of him and yourself. Jungkook continued to lick and taste you, before standing up and leaning over you, removing your hand from your face.
“I missed this face. Did you feel me?,” he whispers against your neck. 
“Fuck, did I feel you….,” you reply, catching your breath as Jungkook continued kissing all over your chest as it rose and fell. “But I missed your face too….”
Jungkook snapped at those six words and met you in a kiss, his face remaining millimeters away from yours, even long after he says, “I’m right here, baby,” while you catch your breath.
You try to avert his gaze as he stares into your eyes, but he never lets you, a hand caressing your cheek while the other roamed your body, grazing and scratching at your arms, shoulders, and torso, pinning your arms against the mattress when you tried hiding your face.
“Look at me, baby…..”
When his fingertips took over and his touches got lighter, you were reminded that Jungkook hadn’t had enough… and you didn’t either.
“Ready?”, he hummed against your lips before you nod.
Jungkook kissed you on the cheek before he got up and on top of you, his gaze never breaking even as he aligned himself with your entrance. You only caught glimpses of Jungkook’s focused, aroused face, his necklace dangling over you and blocking your sight, at which your hand leaves his shoulder and grabs his neck, holding both Jungkook and his necklace in place.
“Ffuck,” he moans.
The sight of him in a flustered rush did the same to you, and Jungkook closed his eyes as he picked up his pace, bending down to kiss your body. Topped with Jungkook’s murmurs of “Beautiful”, “My beautiful girl”, “Baby”, and countless other curses and moans, the sensations were overwhelming, and all you could do was cover your face with your arm as you neared your high, but a firm grip attaches itself to your wrist and pins your arm above your head.
“No, baby,” Jungkook heaves. “I - want to see you.”
Almost in obedience, your body responds with just what he wants as he watches you come undone, doing the same at the sight of you. Jungkook catches his breath and returns to normal before you do, kissing your chest as it slowed its movements while you caught up to him.
“My beautiful, baby,” he murmurs against your tummy, moaning when you run your fingers through his hair before he stood up and pulled you up. He brushes away any hair from your face and tucks loose strands behind your ear, his fingers finally resting on your temple and your chin. “This is my favorite face.”
Jungkook nears, tilting your head downwards and kissing your forehead, just above your eyebrows, before kissing your eyelids, nose, and lips one final time.
“I'll get you cleaned up, baby, then let’s move to the bed and stare at each other all night,” he smiles, holding your face in his hands.
You can’t help but giggle. “Sounds like a plan. Can you do it all night though? We both know you pass out so easily.”
“Yeah…. I always sleep after you, you know?”
“What?!”
“I don’t sleep that early! I watch you sleep a little,” he strokes your shoulder. “Then, when I feel you asleep and relaxed against me… when I see your face, so bare and peaceful, so close to me…. It relaxes me and I go to sleep.”
“You watch me like that scene in Twilight?!”
“I do,” he laughs. “Can you blame me? I’m fucking in love with you, beautiful.”
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