Tumgik
#i know my answers are long but this is one of those big life decisions
sttoru · 1 year
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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
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⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.
⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k
⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.
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never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.
“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”
could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.
you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.
and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.
once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.
you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”
that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.
there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.
you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.
however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.
there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?
wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.
suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.
there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.
you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.
what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.
your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.
suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.
that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.
“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”
it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.
“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”
you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.
“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;
“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”
suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.
“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“
“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?
there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.
“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—
a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.
his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.
one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?
you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.
it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.
“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;
“will you let me love you?”
his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.
“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.
suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.
“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.
“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.
suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.
“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.
suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”
“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.
with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.
“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.
his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.
your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.
“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;
“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”
those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.
“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.
“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”
naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.
suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.
“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.
his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.
the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.
“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.
“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”
“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.
just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.
suguru was there to make love to you.
your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.
“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”
you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.
once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.
“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.
“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.
“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”
you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.
your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.
you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.
once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”
his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.
he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.
“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”
suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.
“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.
did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.
“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.
“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.
“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”
both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.
“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.
suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.
you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”
you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”
if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.
and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.
suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.
“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”
if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.
“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.
“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”
your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.
“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.
“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.
“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.
“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.
you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.
you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”
suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.
“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.
it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.
“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.
the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.
“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”
you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.
“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.
“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.
a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.
“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.
“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.
“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”
suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.
“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”
you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.
“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”
“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”
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cuppajj · 4 months
Text
Beast Ancients AU FAQ
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I’ve seen a lot of asks in my inbox that are identical to each other, so I decided to put em all in one post and then some. This’ll be updated the more I develop the AU and the more info we get.
As a disclaimer, I am very new to CRK (as of December 2023) and I haven’t gotten to all the game or story modes yet (notably odyssey), so things are definitely bound to change + be elaborated on more! Anyway without further ado:
General
What are the Beast Ancients’ themes?
Vanilla is Penance, Lily is Sovereignty, Dragonberry is Pride, Cacao is Solitude, and Cheese is Conquest. I tried to keep them within the realm of their original meanings
Essentially my philosophy is: Penance is the acknowledgment (truth) that sins such as deceit exist in the world and must be cleansed. Sovereignty is an extreme form of freedom where one can have all the agency they wish, but can be just as silent about their presence/power as well. Pride is a byproduct of passion or sloth, boiling down to the adamancy of the subject. Solitude is a choice made with both resolution and apathy in various degrees, and lastly Conquest promises an abundant future at the cost of untold destruction.
If the ancients are bad, are the beasts good?
No, the old Beasts are still a threat. With a total of ten beasts to worry about, the situation on Earthbread is very dire. However, there is still hope left, and hope can go a long way.
Is there a new set of ancient heroes with soul jams?
No, and there likely won’t be. The Neo Beasts and first Beasts still have their respective soul jam halves, and both want each other’s.
Where’s Gingerbrave and his party?
Likely the Crème Republic, which becomes a refuge for many cookies after the rise of the neo beasts. They’re at the front of the resistance movement, working with Clotted Cream Cookie to plan how the beasts will be taken down.
What do the Neo Beasts think of their past selves?
Generally they see themselves as improved or improving. The only one who doesn’t feel that way is Frigid Cacao, who doesn’t reflect on himself that often.
Did they all corrupt at the same time?
Still working on that part. The timeline for beast ancients is a WIP, but for now, it’s likely that while they didn’t corrupt at once, they corrupted pretty close to one another. Cheese was likely first, followed by Lily. Vanilla was among the last to fall and evidently had it the worst.
Do the Neo Beasts still have kingdoms? How is life like there?
Answered here
What are the cookies of darkness doing?
As of writing (5/31/24) we don’t have a lot of info on the cookies of darkness in beast yeast, but at the very least I can say Dark Enchantress cookie may or may not know about Midnight Lily’s plan to destroy her.
How would legendaries react?
I admittedly don’t know everything about the legendaries to say yet, but they’re all alarmed to some degree. I can flesh them out the more I learn about them
Individual Neo Beast questions under cut!
Saint Vanilla Cookie
How do his powers work?
Answered here
Does he know he’s killing cookies?
Nope, he doesn’t see it as that and it would pain him to. He sees purification as a form of transition or ascension in itself, to put it simply; he might even envy those he turns to stardust, knowing his own tainted soul will be so much harder to liberate.
Why is he constantly crying?
He’s just like that. He’s just that big of an empath.
Has his relationship with Lily changed?
Saint Vanilla still cares very much about Lily, and may even be more open about his feelings towards her; but he admits the only reason why she’s still alive is because she convinced him to leave her for last. Lily very well knows that Vanilla, in his mind, wants to purify her more than anyone else. Vanilla often pities her choice to stew in her tainted soul, but he respects her decision… at least the alternative is that they’ll someday be the only two cookies on Earthbread.
What happened to Black Raisin?
As the very first to witness his rise, she inadvertently became his very first martyr.
Where’s Custard Cookie III?
With his relatives in the Crème Republic, alongside the rest of Gingerbrave’s party. The kid has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened to Pure Vanilla, and it may be a blessing that he’s been largely focused on worrying about the well being of his uncle, Clotted Cream Cookie. As the head of the resistance, he’s been working tirelessly… is this what a king goes through too?
Shadow Milk’s opinion on Saint?
To put it simply, he starts out thinking that a confused Vanilla will be easy to manipulate, but he soon finds out that Saint Vanilla is way smarter and more aware than made out to be. He knows Shadow Milk is with him, and he wants to purge him from his soul; but that is a process that may be harder than anything else. So in the meantime, Shadow Milk can watch as he continues on his path of Penance towards ascension, fighting back the resistance he creates before it can truly harm him. Essentially, Saint Vanilla isn’t trapped with Shadow Milk, Shadow Milk is trapped with Saint Vanilla.
Dragonberry Cookie
Is the skull on her head real?
Yes! It comes from a nondescript monster.
If Pitaya is imprisoned, where is Snapdragon?
With Tarte Tatin and/or Royal Margarine. Dragon City likely got taken over by Dragonberry’s kingdom, but they noped out of there as it happened. The two of them might’ve been the first few to recognize Hollyberry’s spiral into corruption and where it was headed
How is her family doing?
Alright for the most part, but they can feel Dragonberry’s influence in every aspect of their life now. While Royal and Jungleberry are technically still the king and queen, it’s only a figurehead role as Dragonberry is the true ruler. She still cares about her family very much, but she’s controlling and good at keeping them under her thumb. Dragonberry’s granddaughter Princess Cookie is the only one who objects this new way of life, and runs away from the palace.
How would the other dragons react?
The other dragons aren’t canon to CRK so they’re not canon to the au by extension, but just for this question, they’d be different levels of alarmed or concerned save for maybe Longan. I could see Ananas wanting a word with Dragonberry in particular esp since they’re both prideful cookies
Frigid Cacao Cookie
Does he ever go outside?
Very rarely, but it’s usually to observe the licorice sea or meet with the few denizens he has left.
Where is Dark Choco?
Still working on this part (waiting for Apathy pt 2 to come out so I have a better idea), but he’s likely alone by himself. He heard wind of his father’s corruption though and took it less well than he thought he would. Perhaps he’ll run into someone who feels the same?
Is his permafrost truly permanent or can the frozen citizens be thawed?
Technically yes, the permafrost can be thawed, but it’s a meticulous process since Cacao’s ice isn’t normal ice. It’s a cure that Crunchy Chip is looking for to save Caramel Arrow.
How does the licorice sea work for him and how did he come to tame it?
I can’t say how yet outside of the fact that it was a definitely cool and heroic thing for Dark Cacao to do, on the scale of taming the Black and White dragons. The sea, arguably a sentient monster in itself, and all of the creatures within it came to follow Cacao and Cacao only. Now it almost acts like an extension of himself: the beast can make the sea do whatever he wants, like acting as his shield, arms, or barrier, and the licorice horrors will vehemently defend him. There are tons of monsters roaming his frozen kingdom now.
Mystic Flour’s opinion on Cacao?
Working on it, but to some degree she knows Cacao is much stronger than he looks. She might see his apparent apathy for his frozen kingdom with fondness though.
Celestial Cheese Cookie
Is the Golden City still running or did she leave it to die?
It may still be running but in a scaled-down beta form. Cheese learned to accept the fact that what she’d built was entirely fake, but she didn’t move on from regaining what was lost. Her virtual Golden City serves as a blueprint for the kingdom she wants on Earthbread, and then some; with nothing in the barren desert to grow her kingdom, her brightened eyes turn elsewhere towards civilizations that could be brought into the fold. Such is the beginning of the Beast of Conquest’s terror.
She does sometimes visit her golden city, only sometimes. It doesn’t look the same; it’s not a paradise for her to escape to, but it is a promise of what she will have someday. This time, it will be no mirage, and there will be no one to threaten its destruction ever again.
Midnight Lily Cookie
What is her opinion on dark enchantress cookie?
DE is the source of insecurity for Lily, who regards herself as the weakest among all the beasts. Because she’s half of a complete whole, who was already half of another whole, she is passionate about reuniting her souls. While she is focused on expanding the influence of the faerie kingdom, her true goal is to track down Dark Enchantress Cookie and destroy her; but she knows she will need more help than just herself, and has considered asking for help from other vengeful allies.
Does she still guard the silver tree?
Yes, she still fiercely honors Elder Faerie’s wishes.
Have her relationships with the other neo beasts changed?
Ish, most notably her and Celestial Cheese are a little more on speaking terms; but they’re connecting through their potential partnership as Lily hopes she can help her take down Dark Enchantress. In return, she might help her expand her kingdom and take down Burning Spice.
If more FAQs come up, I will make a part two. Thank you for your interest!
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lucyrose191 · 10 months
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hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏
COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL
Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader
Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.
Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.
F1 Master List
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It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.
So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.
Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.
She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.
She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.
She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.
She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.
Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.
"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.
"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.
"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.
"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.
Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.
"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"
Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"
Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."
It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.
No response
No response
No response
He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.
He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.
Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.
If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.
Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.
"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.
Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.
He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.
As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.
She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.
"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."
Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.
She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."
It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"
This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.
"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."
Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"
The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."
"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"
"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."
Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.
"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"
"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.
The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"
Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.
The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."
"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.
"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."
The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.
The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.
She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.
He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.
He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.
He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.
It was way too silent in here, he hated it.
He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.
"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."
Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.
She didn’t.
He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.
Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.
He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.
He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.
Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.
It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.
A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.
Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.
He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.
"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."
Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.
"Is she okay?"
Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"
Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German’s eyes.
"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."
Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.
Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.
It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.
He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.
He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.
He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.
Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.
Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.
He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.
He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.
Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.
"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.
"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.
"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.
"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.
"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."
"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."
"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"
"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."
Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.
"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.
The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.
He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.
They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.
He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.
"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.
He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.
Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.
He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.
Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.
The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.
He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.
It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.
He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.
He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.
It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.
"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.
Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.
He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.
"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.
"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.
"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.
"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.
"Hey, are you alright, mate?"
Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."
"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"
Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."
He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.
"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"
"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.
"What do you want?"
"I want what everyone else wants."
"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."
Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.
"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."
Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."
Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."
"What?"
Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."
"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.
Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."
"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.
"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."
Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.
He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.
He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.
He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.
"How is she?" He immediately asked.
"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.
"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.
"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."
Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.
He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.
He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.
When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.
Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!
She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.
She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.
"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.
He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.
"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.
"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.
"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.
"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.
Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.
"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.
"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.
"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.
Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.
Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."
"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.
He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.
He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.
Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.
"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."
"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.
"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,
He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.
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drdemonprince · 2 months
Text
I know so many people who are certain the world is about to end. They’ve felt this way since about 2016 or so. They are neurotic and unempowered, refreshing their Twitter feeds and making posts begging others to stay worried and go vote. 
Some of them are leftists, and say they wish to see an end to capitalism, perhaps even to America — but when the possibility starts actually feeling real to them, they fear crime, and chaos, and their own helplessness. They joke uneasily that we live in “The Bad Place” but they are too afraid to get to the good one. They don’t want to see an end to their quiet street corner, their cozy condominium, their favorite television shows on streaming, their door with a lock. They admit this world is hell but they try to claim their own corner of it and keep it comfortable. 
I’ve been in the exact mental spot as these people, so I don’t mean to make myself sound superior. For the longest time, all I wanted to do was find a few comforting distractions to get me through the years before my death. I went to bed with my stomach in knots, certain that one day the power grid would go dark, the water would stop flowing, and the fascists would march in the streets and no one would stop them. 
Back then I didn’t fantasize that I would do anything to stop them. I picture things differently now. 
I used to think that voting and calling representatives were my only avenues for political participation, but now I see that with every choice I am not merely voting for a better world, I am creating it. When I fund a friend’s jaw surgery, when I look an unhoused person in the eyes and ask them how they are doing, when I slow my walking speed, when I share my knowledge, I am making decisions about how the future will be. I am not powerless. I am small, and vulnerable, but I always have something to give. 
I think that when we are feeling powerless and afraid of the collapse, it’s helpful to shift our attention toward practical, empowering questions like these:
If the government collapsed today, what would I do tomorrow?
The End of the World is a big, frightening abstraction. But if some terrible disaster (or glorious revolution) were to happen today, all I’d have to do tomorrow is make a few basic decisions. What would I eat? Where would I sleep? Who would I contact first? 
At the end of the world there are still dirty clothes and rumbling bellies. Those pressing physical needs are the most immediate questions we will need to answer, not larger philosophical quandaries about what life is “for,” or what the ideal new political system should be. For those more essential questions, there will always be answers: canned food to gather, lakes to wash off in, stories to be traded across candlelight. 
The future that we expect is just a fiction we tell ourselves, and it has never been guaranteed. And so, when some dramatic change comes, we can focus not on the loss of certainty, but on the practicalities: finding shelter, getting fed, and keeping the people around us as safe as we can. This is already what life is about — and we’re all more practiced in survival than we might think. 
If the world as I know it ended, what would still be important to me?
Hitting my weekly wordcount goals wouldn’t matter at all anymore, I know that much. But in the wake of a terrible collapse I would still value my friends, my immediate family, my chinchilla, and the people I see every day. I wouldn’t be so fixated on never seeming ‘awkward’ or ‘creepy’; the moment disaster happened, I would just get over myself and knock on my neighbors’ doors. 
If the world ended, I’d stop caring about my appearance, but I’d still long for a mode of self-expression like fashion currently provides. I wouldn’t think of my writing “career,” but I’d still want to be heard. I can imagine myself giving a small speech to my neighbors, trying to persuade them to take whatever course of action I thought best. I would be wrong often and not always persuasive, but I would still get to express myself and witness how that expression influences the world. I’d take care of more animals. I’d worry less about my apartment getting banged up and wrecked. 
It’s worthwhile to contemplate the people we will become after capitalism. The rhythms of our lives will change, as will our priorities. We may harbor fears about all that may be lost, but it’s worth asking whether our possessions and favorite TV shows and Twitch streamers are really all that important. I often find myself looking forward to the person I could become in this new reality. And those thoughts often motivate me to make small changes in who I am and what I prioritize right now.
The full essay also contemplates these questions about the apocalypse:
What would I feel unburdened from?
What important work would I keep doing?
What skills do I have that people will always need? 
What help would I ask for? 
You can read the full piece for free, or have it narrated to you in the Substack app, right here.
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inkykeiji · 9 months
Text
you be my revolver, i got you in my hands
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character: choso kamo x fem!reader
genre: curseless!au, smut
notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names
words: 6k
synopsis:
“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”  “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 
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Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.
You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too. 
It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart. 
You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.
Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes). 
Family.
Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives. 
Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate. 
And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan. 
That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.
Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible. 
It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want. 
And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.
Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.
But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.
Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.
The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling. 
As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want. 
Because it always is. 
And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed. 
Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed. 
Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded. 
Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels. 
“Oh, I remember this one!” 
A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. 
“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.” 
“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle. 
“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.” 
It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.
“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.” 
“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips. 
“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…” 
Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears. 
“Wh-What’s that?”
He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.
And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole. 
“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock. 
The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.
“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…” 
Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.
“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”
“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.
“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.
A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.
“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”
“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” 
“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 
“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”
“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.” 
You can’t always get what you want. 
That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you. 
“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny. 
“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?” 
He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.
He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too. 
“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please. 
But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile. 
No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.
You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention. 
“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.” 
“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony. 
“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?” 
“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.” 
No. 
“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”
No. 
“Can I? Pretty please?”
No-no-no-no-no! 
He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do. 
He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example. 
But he can’t. 
He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth. 
He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.
Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.
“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.
He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.
“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”
And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup. 
How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?
“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”
“Really?”
And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile. 
You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want. 
“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.” 
The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.
“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.” 
He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you. 
“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”
“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.” 
He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat. 
“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”
“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”
Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth. 
It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.
“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!” 
“God,��� he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?” 
Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw. 
“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.” 
A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted. 
“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff. 
“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest. 
“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”
“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.” 
He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple. 
“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity. 
The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs. 
You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity. 
And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.
But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck. 
“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.” 
And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.
He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should. 
He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.
You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.
“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?” 
The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.
“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”
A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little. 
“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?” 
“Well, sometimes I…” 
The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.” 
There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot? 
“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”
“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…” 
Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water. 
“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?” 
“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…” 
Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.
“Do you think about me, onii-chan?” 
Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.
Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.
You fucking know he does. 
And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.
He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer. 
It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores. 
He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick. 
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”
Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.
“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?” 
Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes. 
“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”
A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear. 
“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit. 
“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.” 
Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.
A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.
He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific. 
“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it. 
His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.
“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.” 
And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.
It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.
But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint. 
He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder. 
But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.
He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.
He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps. 
Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place. 
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?” 
“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—” 
Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.
Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice. 
But not him.
No, he knows better now. 
“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”
“No I’m not!”
“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.
“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls. 
The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.
“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!” 
A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.
“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.” 
“You little bitch!” 
His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight. 
“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”
“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”
“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?” 
Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower. 
A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.
“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful. 
Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest. 
“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching. 
“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.” 
“Yes, onii-chan.” 
“Good girl.”
And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine. 
It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.
“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.
“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”
The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.
“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.” 
A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.
Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy. 
He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure. 
“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”
And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.
The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.
It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.
It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”
Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good! 
Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth. 
“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?” 
Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan! 
“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”
Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars. 
“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.
And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.
“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.
“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?” 
“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.
“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.” 
Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal. 
“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous. 
The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.
“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!” 
“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine. 
But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.  
“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!” 
“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.
You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!” 
“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form. 
“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?” 
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loveandleases · 11 days
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Full Disclosure, I went through PAGES of tags to find the Pregnant-by-Chris!MC asks so I could revisit the angst, and it also got me wondering. How would the ROs react if MC ended up pregnant with their kid? And with regards to the F!ROs and trans ROs, how would they react if THEY got pregnant by MC? I'm down with this going in a fluffy or angsty direction, as you gathered from my search for the previous asks about it, so answer however you like!
Oh noo. I swear I'll get to work on the masterpost so you can find things easier, it's been a long time coming and I need to stop procrastinating. I feel like I did this ask before...but I'm not positive. So I'll do it again with how the RO's have developed. Below the cut~ (Tagged with pregnancy for those who don't want to read.)
❤️ Cam - Ec-fucking-static. At first. Cam would be so pleased because finally his own family. Not that MC and Em weren't already. He would give all of his love to his child, unlike what he got from his parents. Then there would be the problem. What if he's just like his parents? What if he's unable to love them the way they need or support them when they need it. MC would have to have an honest heart-to-heart with him.
💙 G - Very nervous at first. There are a lot of things to consider such as school and childbirth. Is their current living space even safe for a kid? And what if MC or G has more than one kid, it's possible. G would need a bit to kind of come to terms with it. Once they have, G is golden. They're happy and don't bother to try and hide behind their cool demeanor.
Now if ex-G/MC had gotten pregnant. It would be so painful for them, because would MC want to be in the picture or would MC allow them to be. If the breakup still happened and MC had gotten with Chris, G would fight with everything they have to see their child, or to give MC the chance to see them. (it's bittersweet)
💚 Kara - So she would be scared more than anything. Happy comes way later, once she's sure this is what she wants. Because for Kara, she doesn't really get to make her own decisions so much of her life is decided for her. If her first real big decision is having a kid, she's going to ace it. First off by having a chat with her parents (who would to overstep), then MC's parents. About what is allowed and isn't. The grandparents don't get to dictate the pregnancy, the childbirth, the child. If they want to be involved then they will be expected to abide by Kara and MC's wishes or be cut out. That simple. (She will buy too many baby clothes ahead of time, it will be a problem)
💛 M - What!? Excuse you, whose pregnant? With a baby? Like an actual human being? How did this happen!? (This is M's reaction regardless of whose pregnant. )MC has to remind shocked M how in fact that did happen. In which case M turns blood red and refuses to look at MC until they've calmed down.) M is going to go through 5 stages. 1 being shock, 2 being really shocked 3 understanding 4 go back and repeat step 1, 2 and 3. 5 acceptance. Leading them all the way to joy. M will take a good bit before they get through those steps, but when they do they're happy, nervous but happy. M isn't sure how to deal with kids. If they have one should they just go ahead and have another too? M will want to call their mothers' immediately. Get some info about raising a kid and what to expect. They will order far too many books about kids and what to expect when you're expecting. (take their computer for their own good)
💜 Isaac - They very well might have a breakdown, and it's not due to not wanting to have a kid with MC. It's more of knowing that you're not promised forever, as someone who lost their mother. Isaac is going to take it hard. Because she will never get to see her grandchild, and Isaac will never get to have that moment with her. Now onto how they feel outside of that, Isaac will struggle. Because they realize they have something else to lose, and to someone who is afraid of committing due to that it's not an easy situation to be in. They would need reassurance, that this is what MC wants. That they'll work hard, and together will do their best for their child. Isaac wants to be there for everything, every checkup, every milestone. All of it. Proudest parent ever.
🖤 Ardent - The amount of breeding jokes to be told : 14. The amount of tears shed: Over 50. Which he will deny with every breath. They're happy tears. Happy to have a family with MC, happy for his niece to have a cousin to navigate the world with. He is too happy, so cocky. Rubbing MC's belly, giving it so many kisses. He did that, him! Can you believe it? Not to mention, Cupid is going to have to take classes now. That's the first step, Cupid learning how to behave around babies. Ardent is very big into reading, he will overread though. Like MC is going to learn the nitty gritty just like he is. Oh, and they'll probably have to move if they're currently living in the apartments. To a place with an actual yard, the kind his parents had back in Greece. MC will be spoiled, because Ardent will cook every meal. He will ensure MC doesn't have to life a finger, or even Cupid if they feel like they can't. He would be a great dad, plus he has been saving up dad jokes. I apologize ahead of time.
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ginnsbaker · 3 months
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)
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Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV | Part XVI
-
“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)
“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface. 
It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.
Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”
“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”
Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.
Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.
“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”
“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”
Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”
“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”
Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten. 
“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!” 
Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.
“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.
“So, what’s stopping you?”
“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”
Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”
“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag. 
Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”
“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”
“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”
Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”
Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”
Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”
“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.
Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.
“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time. 
“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.
“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”
-
Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.
You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.
You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.
Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.
“Hm?” 
She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.
“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.
“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.
“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”
Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”
You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.
She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.
“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”
Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”
Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.
You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her. 
Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.
You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.
“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.
Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.
Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.
Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”
You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.” 
A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave. 
Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother’s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”
“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”
You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.
“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.
“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.
“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”
You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”
Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.
As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”
Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.
“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.
You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”
-
Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.
At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.
What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.
As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.
“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.
Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.
Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”
“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend. 
Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.
Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say. 
Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”
Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”
“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.
The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.
“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.
“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”
Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave. 
You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.
“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.
You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”
Reluctantly, you agree.
-
You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying. 
“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.
In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week. 
Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.
When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.
“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.
“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.
You don’t need to be told twice.  Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix. 
Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“So... what do you think of Leigh?”
“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.
She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”
“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.
She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.
“Come on, be serious,” you plead.
Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.
“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”
You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.
“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”
She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”
You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”
“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”
“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”
“What’s on Tuesday?”
“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”
“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.
You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”
Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”
You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”
“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”
Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer. 
You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.
“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Go on,” she urges gently.
You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”
Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?” 
You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”
You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”
Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.
“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.
“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”
“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.
“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.
“I really do,” you say quietly.
“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
-
Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.
You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.
Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.
Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.
You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.
She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.
-
Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.
Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.
You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.
You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.
Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.
“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.
“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.
“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment. 
“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.
“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.
Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.
Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.
When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.
“Is that for me?”
“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”
Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.
“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”
You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.
Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.
“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”
Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.
“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.
When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.
“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”
You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.
“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”
She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.
“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.
-
Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.
Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.
In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.
Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.
Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.
Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.
Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.
Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.
“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”
Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.
“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”
Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.
“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”
“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.
Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.
Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?
“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”
Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.
Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”
“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.
“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”
Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—” 
“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”
Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.
“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”
“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely.  “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”
Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”
Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.
“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”
It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.
Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”
Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”
But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”
It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.
Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.
Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.
“What was that about?” Amy asks.
Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.
Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.
-
It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.
“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.
You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.
It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.
“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”
You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”
She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.
“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”
Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”
Everything around you stills.
“What do you mean, you might not come back?”
Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”
“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.
She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”
“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.
Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”
“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”
“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking. 
“What—”
“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.
You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”
“Your mom told me.”
The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.
Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”
Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.
Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”
“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.
“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”
You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh. 
You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”
She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”
“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”
Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.
“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”
With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.
But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.
-
There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.
Leigh is still leaving.
-
To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?
Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.
You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.
“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.
“I know it's you,” you reply softly.
“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.
“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”
She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”
“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.
“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.
Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”
You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”
She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”
After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”
“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.
They announce final boarding.
“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.
You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.
And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
-
At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.
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lesbianpepsi · 1 year
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my love, my life
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pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader
summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life
link to request
words: 4.007k (im sorry)
warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing
authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)
You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.
In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.
But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up. 
You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something. 
Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye. 
You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.
At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four. 
You blew up. 
At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you. 
Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows. 
You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question. 
Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic. 
As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days. 
Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.
You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting. 
As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting. 
Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money. 
You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.
A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.
Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts. 
In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role. 
Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside. 
In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.
You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie. 
But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill. 
Jenna Ortega. 
You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them. 
Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.
Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.
She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen. 
You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna. 
—————
"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room. 
You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."
Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.
You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."
"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen. 
It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.
You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did. 
After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened. 
Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.
You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be. 
Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.
"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years. 
Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at. 
"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch. 
"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face. 
"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.
A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.
At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you. 
"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.   
Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.
"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.
Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.
"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.
As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. 
Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.
He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you. 
"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it. 
"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.
"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation. 
Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head. 
She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.
"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.
You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.
You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that." 
He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.
Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.
"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.
Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.
You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice. 
"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes. 
You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend. 
"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?" 
Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?" 
You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese. 
After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.
You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.
You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.
"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace. 
"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food. 
You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"
"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."
You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before. 
"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you. 
You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors." 
Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.
"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.
Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.
He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see." 
What? 
"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.
She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.
Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.
A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.
"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.
"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.
"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.
"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."
You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.
"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad." 
You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known. 
As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.
"No." You whispered out.
"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"
Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.
"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have." 
You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic. 
"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.
A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.
It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.
"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly. 
You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  
Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom. 
"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"
"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now." 
Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers. 
You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.
You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.
A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.
Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.
Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.
"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.
Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly. 
"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.
You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed. 
Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm. 
"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice. 
You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.
"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying. 
Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.
"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."
You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down. 
"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much." 
Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.
"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.
"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down. 
Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head. 
"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.
You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.
Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.
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gabelew · 11 months
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The reunion of Big Bad Bazz Brigade (and Sidon) I wrote a few words about how each of them works in the group in this particular story. From Bazz's perspective though, so who's to say how truthful those observations are. Typed transcript of my scribbles under the cut:
Captain Bazz's very annoying friend group, as explained by Bazz. So no objectivity at all. Bazz: One sane man (or so he'd like to bielieve) Full of sufferig.
Rivan: Too pretty for his own good. Firmly holds the record of "most bad decisions taken in a lifetime". Direct cause of roughly 80% of Bazz's problems. No concept of personal space. The only truly good person at this table.
Gaddison: Firm believer in "violence is always the answer". Annoyingly observant but refusing to use this power for good. Stupidly strong. Stupidly gay. Sadly, -not- stupid.
Link: Chaos incarnate, no perception of long time consequences of his actions. Weirdly, the best person to turn to for some hones heart-to-heart. Both a teenager and a 120yo at the same time, with all the emotional pitfalls of it.
Sidon: Bazz's boss, Prince, adopted ypunger sibling (in a way) and old friend all at once. Maybe even more. It's complicated. Annoyingly confilict avoidant, desperate to keep everyone happy. Smitten.
Other people Bazz considers his friends, but aren't part of the gang: Kodah, Kayden, Jiahto ---
Of course I have so much more to say about every one of them, and the descriptions vary wildly, based on whose pov we choose to assume. They are all in some ways terrible and problematic, full of various traumas, but also friends who try to do their best. Such is life. There also is a story behind all of it, obviously. I don't know if I'll ever end up publishing the pages upon pages of comics I have about those guys, since it'd require loads of editing and rewrites, and i don't have this kind of time. But on the off chance I will, I want the personalities to be revealed in this way instead of big headcanon dumps. It's more fun this way.
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Dirty Work 25
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: last night I finished my paper... mostly. Need to format and cite.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You stare at your hand, then Mr. Laufeyson’s. In contrast, his seems so big. Emblematic of the hold he has on your life. The power you can’t resist. Even if you want to. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know if you’d ever known. You only ever did what you thought was right.
He lets you slip your hand free and you turn it over, looking down at your palm. You trace a line as you feel him watching you. He wants you to speak but what can you say? You’re confused and scared and so, so tired.
“Pet, was I not clear?” He wonders, the gentle lilt frightens you more than his deep commanding timbre.
You think he was. You think you know what he wants. Just like your father accused you. Well, what else are you worth? Not just to him but anyone.
“Can…” your mouth is dry, your eyes are itchy, your head is pulsing, and your body feels hollow. “Can I think about it?”
“Think?” He echoes, “what– how long?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer thinly, sinking back into the pillows, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel very well.”
“Dizzy?” He repeats you again. He hums and clasps his hand around his knee, “when’s the last you’ve eaten?”
You shyly glance up. You slant your lips and shrug. You’re uncertain. Does he really care? It hardly matters. You can’t recall when your dad ever bothered about you being fed or happy. Even if it’s pretend, it’s better than before.
“Yesterday, I think,” you twine your fingers together, “last night…”
“Yes, last night was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He tuts, “what about breakfast?”
“I had some tea,” you offer. “I’m not very hungry, just sleepy.”
“You need to eat then, you can’t think on an empty stomach surely,” he insists as he stands, “I’ll fetch a plate.”
“Mr. Laufeyson, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself to the edge of the bed but he’s quick to stop you, catching your shoulder as he nudges you into the pillows.
“No, no, let me show you,” he squeezes then reluctantly rescinds his touch, “I said I would give you anything, yes? Whatever you wish or need. Let me show you that I can and you may better make your decision.”
“It’s really not–” you try to argue but don’t have the energy. Really, you’re too perplexed to come up with any protest. He’s being strangely… nice.
“I mean it, stay,” he orders as he shows his palms, “I won’t be long.”
You just nod. He spins on his heels and marches out. You scrunch up your lips and glance towards the window. It’s later than you thought. The window is dark and the moon shines down in a sliver.
What would it be like to have someone take care of you? Is that what Mr. Laufeyson means? You’re not that stupid. Inexperienced, yes, but he has been blunt. You know what he wants from you but you’re not sure you can offer it. 
Clothes? Jewellry? Shiny things? All those things mean nothing. He can’t give you what you truly want but no one can. And he’s right about everything else. You have no home and whatever he did can’t have made your dad any less angry than he already was.
You close your eyes and exhale. No isn’t an option. It might knot in your chest and tickle your tongue but you’re not sure you can’t utter it. What is the alternative? You’re at the tipping point. Without a job, you can’t afford that hotel bed. Even with one, you’re not sure you can swing it. And there’s all the other expenses; all the things you need and don’t have.
Your head is ready to split in two. You could never be ready for this. You never saw it coming to this. You in Mr. Laufeyson’s bed, weighing your entire life in your hands.
Your eyes roll open as you hear him. The scent of the food precedes him and your stomach rumbles loudly. His brows rise in response as he enters. He has a plate in one hand and a wooden board under the other. He nears and sets the dish on the night table, unfolding the legs of the lap table.
He places it over your legs and moves the plate on top of it. He’s careful not to lose the cutlery in the process. It’s some of the food Frigga left, but not a dish you helped with. Salmon, rice, and a colourful medley of vegetables.
“Something to drink?” He offers.
“Um…” you look at the plate then furrow your brow at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. What would you like?”
You blink. This is strange. It should be you asking him. It should be you running around. It’s backwards. All of it.
“Water is fine.”
“Hm, yes, water, I shall return,” he declares and once more pivots on his heel.
You focus on the food as he goes. You poke the long grains of rice, then a baby carrot. You push it all around before you dare to take a bite. It’s good, very good. Better than boxed macaroni and canned soups.
Mr. Laufeyson appears again. He has a tall glass, weeping with condensation as a lemon floats on top. He sets it on the night table, sure to slip a marble coaster down first. You taste the food intensely, pushing your tongue around as he backs up. He hovers just before the foot of the bed.
You continue to eat. Tediously so. Little bites as you delay the inevitable. He won’t allow you much longer than it takes to clear the plate to give your answer and you’re filling up fast. You still the fork and swallow. You rest the silver on the ceramic rim and take a sip of water. The cold flow gives a small kick.
“What did you do to him?” You ask, voice trembling even as you fight to control it.
He tilts his head and a line ripples above his brows. He cheek dimples as he grips one hip, “whatever do you think I did to the sickly old brute?”
You frown and he puts his head straight. He drops his hand and flutters his fingers. He huffs and paces around the end of the bed, then back again.
“I only gave him a fright,” he grumbles, almost bashfully, “I am somewhat above assaulting an elderly man.”
You stare, not saying a word.
“What? I am,” he snaps, “I only told him to keep his hands to himself. In more words than that.”
You don’t know if you believe him. You want to only because you wouldn’t want to be the reason your dad gets hurt. Even if he’s the reason you are.
“Promise?” You ask.
He clasps his hands together behind his back, “sure. Yes, I swear that I didn’t touch him, right? Just a bit of ominous implication.”
You run your finger along the edge of the plate.
“Tell me you’re not lying, please?”
He’s quiet. He huffs again and taps his toe.
“Why do you care so much? He doesn’t care for you.”
“Just…” you are wilting, you feel your strength dwindling. “Tell me the truth and I’ll say yes.”
He shifts to sit on the bed, just by your legs. He looks at you in the face. You meet his gaze and he doesn’t flinch, “I did not assault him, though it crossed my mind. He had that tube under his nose and wouldn’t stop coughing. It hardly seemed a fair contest. I merely warned him that the next time, I wouldn’t restrain myself.”
“Next time?” You murmur.
“Which there won’t be,” he assures, “because I told the truth, so that is…”
He waits and points at you. You turn your head away. You believe him.
“Yes,” you mutter. “I accept, Mr. Laufeyson…” You bat away another singe of tears, the voice in your head whispering what you won’t say aloud, ‘you win’.
Mr. Laufeyson clears away the dishes and folds up the small table. He leaves you for a time, stirring on the lower level as you listen cautiously. You feel a little better but your eyes are still puffy from crying and your head still has a dull tick. 
You slowly stand, careful not to cause your head to ring, and move around the bed. You slip into the hallway and into the study. Inside, you near the desk and lift the bag onto the chair. You search within until you find your phone, the mostly neglected flip.
You open it and stare at the keypad. You want to call your dad and make sure he’s okay but you know you shouldn’t. You can’t. He wouldn’t answer either way. You know that. The more you think of what he did, the worse it is. Why hadn’t you realised before? There was no way to ever go back home.
“Pet?” Mr. Laufeyson startles you and you shove away the phone. You face him and lean on the corner of the desk. “I made some tea… it’s much too late for work.”
“I know, I…” you still aren’t used to this. It’s so unusual. Mr. Laufeyson’s isn’t a place of leisure or carelessness, it’s for work. “...was checking the time.”
“Late, yes,” he affirms, “chamomile, my mother left some behind.” He raises the steaming mug, “you should lay down.”
“Mmm, yeah, I…” you look away. It’s not so different as it was, is it? You’re still supposed to obey him. He might be gentler but he isn’t asking.
“Would you like a book to read? You may peruse to your pleasure,” he offers and crosses to you, close as he puts the cup on the desk, “I might have a few you may enjoy. Are you fan of Shelley?”
He takes your wrist before you can react. He leads you to the shelf near the middle of the wall as you blink and peek up at him. This is strange. You’ve never seen him like this. Almost excited, as much as he has ever been.
“Poe, of course, I’ve some Lovecraft but I find him repetitive,” he goes on, “perhaps this isn’t an evening for horror.” He’s thinking aloud, “I might have an Austen or two that you may handle. The first editions, I’m afraid, cannot be touched.” He hums as he lets you go and hovers his fingers over the row, “Mansfield Park… hm?” 
He looks at you and you shake your head. You don’t know. You read the same books you read as a kid. The Secret Garden, The Little Princess, and that illustrated version of The Hobbit, the one your dad used to…
“Maybe tomorrow,” you offer, “my head hurts.”
“Fair,” he agrees, “as I said, you should lay down.”
“I know,” you murmur and back away, “I’m just… restless.”
“So drink your tea.”
“Thanks,” you return to the desk and lift the mug, blowing over it as the steam continues to furl above it, “I will.”
“In bed,” he insists.
“I wouldn’t want to spill it–”
“Well certainly you can’t have it near the books,” he reproaches, “so come.”
That’s a command. His tone hardens and you recognise him again. Oh yes, things aren’t so different after all. He’s still in charge.
You nod and do as he says. You carry the tea into the hallway but hesitate at the threshold. Can’t you just go downstairs? No, you’re tired. You continue to the bedroom and place the mug on the same coaster where he’d put the water earlier.
You fold your hands nervously and back away. You approach the window and look out onto the estate. You remember the night you rushed over here, when he’d triggered that alarm. The way he’d been so undone, how he’d grabbed you and babbled those senseless words.
He moves behind you, shifting open drawers, and shuffling around. He doesn’t say a word as your vision blurs the shadows to a sea of uncertainty. The world is distant as you struggle to believe in it. It still feels like a horrible nightmare.
“Pet,” he slithers as he comes up behind you. You flinch as he rests his hands on your shoulders, standing almost flush to you, “your tea grows cold.”
You nod and sidle away from him. He relents, a hand dragging down your arm as he sighs. He watches as you go to claim the porcelain cup. You sit on the edge of the bed and sip. It’s pleasant, not stale like the old tea bags in your own cupboard. Well, that’s not yours anymore.
You wiggle your nose, ready to cry again. It’s like your morning yourself. The old you is dead yet very much sitting there, just as powerless as ever.
“Thank you,” you say as you cradle the cup against your hand, absorbing the heat until it hurts.
“I’ve found some clothing you can sleep in,” he nears and pulls the folded fabric across the bed. A plain button-up and a pair of cotton shorts. “I’m afraid I’m not furnished for you just yet. Tomorrow we will rectify that.”
You thank him again and drown your nerves in the yellow tea. As much as your eyelids tug and your shoulders slump, as heavy as you feel, you’re not sure you will sleep through the churning in your chest. You twitch as he brushes a finger against your cheek and your sight narrows on him.
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He caresses down to your chin and tilts it up. He considers you. You feel him appraising you, his eyes drifting away from your face. For a moment, his grip on you firms and his hand slides back so the crook of thumb and index frame your throat. You gulp as he bends over you. He presses a kiss on your forehead, lingering as he inhales your scent.
“Patience,” he mutters as he parts, though you don’t know if he girds you or himself.
He draws away and fixes his posting, rolling his shoulders as he turns sharply. He goes back to the dresser and focuses on the contents of the top drawer. He clucks as he snatches out garments.
“I suppose I should dress for bed too,” he drones flatly, “no doubt…” He snaps the drawer shut, “a long night.”
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insomniac4000 · 1 month
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I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha
Fellas to lovers
1517 words
Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.
“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.
"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.
"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."
 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.
"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."
"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked
"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."
"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.
"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."
"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.
"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."
"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.
"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."
“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.
“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?
“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.
"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."
"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.
"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."
"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled
"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."
"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.
“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.
“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.
“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.
“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.
“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”
“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.
“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.
“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”
“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.
“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”
“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.
“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.
“Nothing really.”
“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.
“I’d love to.”
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archangeldyke-all · 9 months
Note
Butch trucker Sevika? 👁️👁️
sugar......... your mind.....
men and minors dni
she drives an 18 wheeler across the country. she loves the job. it's just her (with little slayer by her side) ((yes i'm bringing slayer into this i love that little imaginary dog)), and it's always quiet, just an audiobook playing in the background, and she gets to travel and see places she never would have before. she loves it.
you work at one of those mega gas station/ rest stops in the middle of nowhere. your job mainly consists of selling people various snacks from the convenience store or checking out shower stalls for various truckers that come through or re-stocking the spinning hotdog rollers.
sevika stops at your gas station one day to fill up and grab some chips for the long trip ahead of her.
when she sees you, she's starstruck.
she's absolutely silent at the register as you ring her up, just flabbergasted by you and your beauty.
you seem to barely notice her, exhausted at the end of your shift. sevika's grateful for this-- because she's absolutely mortified by her behavior. she's never been this flustered by a girl before.
but she makes it her life mission to get you to notice her.
any time she's even in your state, she makes a long detour to go see you at the gas station.
half the time she goes you aren't even there. she ends these trips cursing herself for being so stupid. but when you are there, she promises herself she won't stop visiting you at the gas station until you tell her to fuck off or she makes you hers.
she quickly becomes a familiar face for you.
you always smile when you see her, asking her how her route's going. she answers honestly, getting tiny giggles out of you when she starts cursing out stupid drivers and the rain.
you think she's fucking adorable. she'd hate it if she knew that's the first word that comes to mind when you think about her.
sure she's ripped and handsome and looks like she could fuck you for days at a time, but she's always stuttering and cursing and stealing glances at you from the aisles of the gas station.
sometimes, late at night she'll come in and stay for a bit, just watching you work, making sure nobody gives you trouble. you always notice. you think she's the sweetest woman you've ever met. (even though you haven't really met her)
one night she catches you after your shift, sitting on a bench outside of the gas station and having a smoke. she pauses on her way in-- not sure if she should act like she really comes here for snacks or just give up her act and talk to you.
she doesn't have to make a decision though, because you decide for her.
"hey." you say, giving her a friendly smile and a wave. she gulps.
"hi."
"long night?" you ask her. she clears her throat and nods.
"yeah. how about you?" she asks. you giggle and shrug.
"the snow's got everyone staying inside so it was pretty slow. good to see you though, i was wondering when you'd come around again." you say, giving her a sweet smile and fluttering your eyelashes at her.
sevika melts.
you offer to share your smoke with her and she takes you up on it. you guys sit on the bench for hours, chatting and giggling and getting to know one another.
at one point, sevika walks you to her rig to introduce you to little slayer. the dog absolutely loves you (she can tell her mama likes you so she's on her best behavior,) and you think little slayer curling up in sevika's big burly arms is about the cutest thing you've ever seen.
at some point, sevika's phone starts ringing-- she's running behind schedule for her shipment. she apologizes and waves goodbye to you, and as she goes, you call after her.
"come back soon!"
she grins the rest of her ride.
sevika finally works up the nerve to ask you out a few months later. you giggle when she does.
"don't you live like, ten hours away?" you ask. she shrugs.
"i could drive here, like in my car. or i could get a delivery here, spend a few days here before i gotta make another. up to you." she says. you giggle and agree.
but when the big day comes, a blizzard rolls through town. you text sevika asking if she'll be able to make it, but don't hear back. you spend your shift depressed and a little heartbroken, missing sevika and knowing you likely wont see her for another week or two.
but as you're wrapping yourself up in your layers getting ready to go home, sevika's rig comes pulling into the empty parking lot. you gasp.
sevika comes tumbling out of her truck, sprinting up to you with a wild look in her eye.
"you're still here!" she exclaims. you let out a disbelieving laugh.
"what are you doing here?!" you ask, wrapping sevika up in a hug. she's just in a wifepleaser and sweats-- she hadn't grabbed her coat before running out in the snow to greet you. she sighs against you.
"i'm sorry i missed your text. i had no signal with all the snow." she says, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck. you giggle.
"you're adorable." you say, shooting up to kiss her. sevika's shocked against you, sighing against your mouth and wrapping her arms around you.
you guys end up spending the night in her truck, talking over chips and sodas, watching the snow fall and cuddling together on the little twin bed in the back, slayer sleeping on top of you.
it becomes a pretty frequent occurrence, even without the snow.
sevika will come by to visit you while you're finishing up work, perfectly timing her mandatory 8 hour break so she can spend time with you.
sometimes you'll take her into town and show her around.
sometimes you guys just chat in her truck.
(sometimes you take her back to your place so you guys can fuck in a bigger bed.)
but eventually, you and sevika are going steady.
it's pretty hard, with only being able to see her once a week and the two of you living across the country from one another. but on your one year anniversary, sevika comes to visit you at work when you aren't expecting her.
she grins at the sight of you lighting up behind the counter, barely able to contain your excitement as you check out the guy in front of her. when it's her turn, you jump over the counter and into her arms.
"what're you doing here?!" you ask as you pepper her face with kisses. sevika giggles.
"i got a surprise for you." she says, shrugging. you pull away from her with a grin.
"well, show me!" you exclaim. sevika giggles as she presses a letter into your hands. the letterhead is from her company, and you furrow your brow as your eyes scan the text, then suddenly, you burst into tears.
sevika takes it the wrong way.
"i can reject it, you know." she says uncertainly. "i don't have to..."
it's a permission slip, allowing sevika to relocate her primary location to your town. you giggle at her words and wrap her up in a hug.
"don't you dare." you whimper against her. she melts in your arms, pressing kisses to your head. "will you move in with me?" you ask as you pull away. sevika grins.
"i was hoping you'd ask that. nobody's renting around here." she admits. you smile.
"my landlord doesn't like dogs, but slayer's not really a dog. she's like a fiesty gerbil." you say. sevika laughs.
"i'll just fight 'im if he gives us shit." she says. you grin.
there's a line forming behind sevika, and her truck is burning gas as it idles in the parking lot, but you don't care about either as you lean in to capture her lips in a kiss.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian
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sehodreams · 8 months
Text
sex money feelings die - second visit
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit
WC: 1.5k
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, 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.
Mondays became the new Fridays.
Anton had completely stopped booking the VIP room for him and his friends and disappeared until Monday came, the girls were sad at first, missing his expensive champagne and pretty face, but since his friends didn’t stop coming and they also brought their own drinks to share they quickly got over it.
Shotaro was elated to have now two big incomes in the week instead of just one, and every time he saw you around, he patted your back as if he was congratulating you for making the right choice.
You don’t know how right was to accept his money, the first time you told yourself you deserved it as compensation for all the stress he caused you, but after the fourth time you had started to feel bad receiving the wad of cash when all you two did was talk and sometimes drink, and you didn’t even drink with him, you just made sure his glass was full while you talked about recipes you had tried days before, how clients had treated you during the week, or maybe some gossip you heard around.
And he always kept the conversation flowing so smoothly that, before you noticed, you had started to talk about things you wanted too, from the simplest dish you had tried in your infancy to the coat you had seen when you were window shopping at the mall.
‘’I can buy it for you’’ he answered when you described the long black coat you saw that weekend.
You denied, ‘’It’s okay Anton, it’s not that I can’t, but there are more important things I could buy with that money.’’
‘’Like what?’’ he seemed sincerely curious about what else you had to do with money instead of buying yourself something truly wanted.
Saying you could buy your brother more practice books was impossible, you hadn’t talk about that kind of personal aspects of your life. Also, you asked yourself, would he be able to understand you? You saw the gold earrings he had on each of his ear globes, drops shiny enough to know they weren’t fake like the ones you bought yourself in the little fairs you visited when you had time, and you didn’t dare to even guess the price, because you were sure they costed enough to pay at least four months of your rent.
‘’Like food or, I don’t know, pay my bills, I don’t feel good wasting too much money on myself.’’
‘’Why would it be a waste to buy yourself something you want? Of course, those things are important, but gifting yourself things you want too.’’
He wouldn’t understand you at all. You couldn’t tell him how a two thousand coat was not something you could gift yourself, you had a mouth to feed, a student to maintain, and when you were young you never appreciated how much your mother did for you, but now that you were on her shoes, you understood why she collapsed after so many years taking care of you two without thinking about her own health. You couldn’t even afford fruit when you were young, you would be happy if you had a fried egg in your lunch, and now you decided that eating two fruits a day was a better decision than buying some piece of cloth that your brother wouldn’t find useful at all.
‘’I shouldn’t, I have to think about the future, I don’t know what could happen tomorrow.’’ You saw his glass half empty and tried to fill it again to avoid his eyes on you.
Minutes passed and the uncomfortable silence that you had forgotten about after so many times together came again, making you shrug in your spot, wishing you hadn’t talked about that. He seemed to deeply think about something while slowly nodding and sipping his glass full again, and before you were about to change the subject to something one of the girls had said about him, he interrupted you.
‘’What I give to you is not enough? Should I give you more?’’
‘’Anton in first place I don’t know why you give me so much money, you could have any girl in this place, you don’t have to put up with me.’’
His hand found yours and, caressing the back of it to calm you, he sighed.
After so many nights talking until Sungchan called for you, he had learned many things about you, how you enjoyed sweets a lot, how you always had a praise for the people you worked with and how you never recognized how special you were.
‘’Can I ask you a favor?’’ You, tired of hearing that phrase, like always, stayed silent until the other person said what wanted from you. ‘’Could you treat yourself a little better? I don’t think you realize what you do, but you talk as if you didn’t deserve nice things, and I’m not here to lecture you or anything, but it’s painful to hear how you say things like waste, or put up, and I thought that, after all the times we were together, you would notice that, for me, you would never be someone I have to put up with, I’m here because I want to, and because I think your company is as valuable as what I pay for, to not say more.’’
The tenderness with what he said it made you blush and, grateful for the room to be so dark and your foundation so good, you let him hold your hand.
He chuckled when your smokey eyes met his, seeing you so shy with just a grasp of his hand after knowing how bold you could be was a charm he didn’t expect from you, and when he saw how your ears betrayed you, all red and obvious even with the dim light of the place, he found himself as lost as when you took off your robe and showed him your pretty set of lingerie.
The occasion never repeated, you two strictly talked and got to know each other, so he never received another of your shows again. Kind of sad, but he didn’t mind, seeing your soft face and hearing your voice was enough to keep him satisfied the whole night.
However, he thought about you a lot more the next days, sometimes he thought about calling your boss and asking for more of your time on random days, but he didn’t want to scare you away when you were getting so close. For him, you were just like one of those stray cats he had seen around his elite school when he was younger. His friends and he would sneak some food a couple of times, and they would instantly run away from them and hide if they weren’t careful enough, and even if with every encounter they would warm up and occasionally accept to be petted, just the action of one of the immature boys, like putting too much pressure with their hands or being too loud, would be enough to make them run away, and would have to start all over again.
Your eyes met his and, holding all his desire to give you a kiss over your nude lips, he focused his attention on going back to the conversation.
‘’So, what do you say, will you do me that favor?’’
You hummed with a smile, you were tired of favors, but this was the first time you didn’t mind that someone asked you for one. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’
Testing the waters, he pulled the hand he was holding and gave it a quick but delicate peck. ‘’Knowing that you will think about me later it’s enough for me.’’
Not believing his cheesy line you scoffed, ‘’I’ll think about what you said, not about you.’’
‘’Well, just so you know, I’m always thinking about you.’’
Your laugh brought him joy again, whipped with the sound of it, he always left feeling victorious if he made you laugh during the night.
He kissed your wrist this time, and you didn’t pull your hand away, so he felt he had advanced a big step with you after so many nights.
‘’Why don’t you come Fridays anymore? The girls miss you’’ you changed subjects, like you always did when Anton, or made you uncomfortable, or made you too comfortable.
‘’And you? Do you miss me?’’ he replied kissing your index finger.
‘’Sometimes, your champagne is better than your friend’s’’ you had no idea how it tasted, but it always smelled good, so you decided it wasn’t exactly a lie.
He was exhilarating, hearing how you wanted to see him more was something he had waited for so long. ‘’I’ll make sure to bring two bottles then.’’
You let him hold your hand until you were called, and that night Shotaro gave you a check. ‘’Too many bills’’ he said.
Anton had given you a raise.
first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 11 months
Text
Reality's An Illusion
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Summary: Despite being one of the most powerful demons in existence, Wanda is content to live her life as a human to be with you. But that's all shattered when a demonic threat arrives and shes forced to disclose her true form to protect you. You knew what she was and loved her anyway, but can you continue to love her now that you've seen her true self?
Warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content (oral, strap on sex), monster fucker R
Authors note: Bonus points to whoever can guess the Marvel villain that helped inspire the look of the attacking demon
Word count: 3626 Wanda Masterlist 2023 Halloween Specials Marvel Masterlist
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Wanda smiles as you walk into the living room, two steaming mugs in your hands and an adorable fall themed sweater adorning your torso. You carefully hand her one before sitting next to her and her smile widens as she notices the bowl of popcorn already sitting on the coffee table
   “Thank you malysh(baby)” she says, placing a gentle kiss against your cheek
    “Of course, I know how much you like it. And whats a movie without snacks”
   You both turn your attention back to the tv, where some cheesy slasher movie plays. Wanda doesn’t exactly understand your affinity for them considering the several incompetent decisions the mortals in them made that almost always ended in their demise, but she at least did enjoy the bloodshed. And the screams. 
   Aside from the movies though, she was enjoying the other fall activities you'd been doing lately. Like watching you set little gourds out upon the windowsills, or when you'd taken her to the park to look at all the trees as they began to shift colors. But going to the pumpkin patch with you and picking out a few to carve had been her favorite so far, and she's sure it will only be topped by the day you sit down to actually carve them.
   A scream from the tv pulls her out of her thoughts as you cuddle into her side, and she chuckles while wrapping her arm around you, “Relax, it's only a movie. Besides, I’ve got you”
   You settle into her embrace with a smile, “I know you do, my big and strong demon”
   She ducks down slightly in an attempt to hide her blushing cheeks, but by now you know her well enough to know why she does that. Curse this human form, it can hardly contain any of her emotions, especially the ones brought up by you. But it was something she had to do. Because at the end of the day she was indeed a demon, and though you knew this and even teased her about it, she knew her real appearance was something humans would find appalling. 
   And though there have been times where she wanted to just be herself, she never wants to risk the possibilities. Those being that you found her true form to be too much, too frightening or disgusting. And so you'd break up with her….and Wanda, well she just couldn’t bear that thought. At first maybe it would have been alright, but after being with you so long, loving you and being loved by you, she knows being rejected like that would break her
   “You alright?” you ask, pulling her from her anxiety, “You keep zoning out tonight.”
   “I’m fine malysh(baby), just thinking is all.”
   “Thinking about what?”
   “You” she answers, booping your nose with one of her slender fingers which causes you to giggle
   “Good things I hope”
   “Always” she answers with a smile, “There's not a bad thing about you, well, except that you finished all our popcorn”
   She giggles as roll your eyes, “Fine, I guess I can go make us more”
   You pull yourself away from her embrace and grab the bowl before heading back to the kitchen. And by the time you place the next bag into the microwave, slender arms are wrapping around your waist
  “Now, why did I have to come replenish our snacks when you were getting up anyway?” you tease, knowing full well that she only got up because in those few seconds you were gone, she missed you and craved your touch
   “What can I say, my snack is just too irresistible.” she practically purrs, spinning you around for a kiss “And she tastes good too”
   You giggle at her as she proceeds to pepper your face in light kisses until the microwaves timer goes off, indicating the popcorn was read. To your surprise she releases you to tend to it, and you quickly refill the bowl. As you add some extra salt and butter flavoring, Wanda, unknowingly to you, has a sense of dread creeping up her spine.
   The source of this dread reveals itself then, as her protection runes are triggered, causing a low rumble that makes the ground shake. You turn around to face her then, worry evident on your features, and it appears to only deepen when you notice her glowing red eyes
   “Wanda, what's happening?” you question, concern lacing your tone
   She reaches out to grab your hand, hoping to comfort you, “Someone is trespassing, I don’t know who they are but I can feel their energy now. They're supernatural, and likely here with a purpose”
   As if on queue the stranger's voice booms in the distance, “I know you're in there Maximoff! Face me, or I’ll unleash my anger on your pet mortal instead!”
   A growl slips past the brunette's lips, she hardly notices, she's too full of anger and an urge to protect you. But you definitely notice. And despite the impending danger, you can’t deny that the sound has an effect on you.
    “Y/n, stay here.” she instructs, cupping your face gently
   “But- ”
   She shakes her head, “No matter what, you stay here. The house will keep you safe, even if something happens to me and I can’t”
   “Wanda, I’m not just going to hide here if you get hurt!”
   “Y/n, malysh(baby), please!” she pleads, “You are the single most important thing in my life, and I simply cannot bear to lose you. Please, just stay here and let me keep you safe”
   You knew this fear stemmed from the loss of her brother decades ago, and you also knew this fear was more than valid. Afterall, as a demon it was almost certain Wanda would live for thousands of years, but as a human, your time was limited. Which meant it was also limited with her, so you reluctantly relent.
   “Okay, I’ll stay here. Just be careful, please”
   Her eyes soften upon hearing your tone, and she realizes then that despite her powers and strength, you are as scared of losing her as she is of losing you, “I will be”
   With that she bolts for the front door and runs to meet the threat head on. On instinct your legs nearly break your promise, trying to follow after her, but you're able to stop yourself by the door. In her haste she only closed the screen door, not the wooden one, allowing you to see the scene that unfolds outside.
   In front of your girlfriend stands a menacing figure, his skin is as gray as stone with large leathery wings behind him. Despite the distance you can see his face is scarred, and his eyes glow an eerie green.
   “Such a shame!” he calls out to her with a scoff, “You're supposed to be one of the most powerful among our kind and yet you choose to live here, wallowing with these pathetic creatures! Pietro would be disgusted by you!”
   Wanda grits her teeth, “You keep his name out of your damned mouth!”
   “Oh, hit a nerve did I?” he sarcastically asks, though he doesn’t wait for an answer “Bring your little pet out here and I’ll hit another when I rip her head off in front of you!”
   “You won’t fucking touch her!” she growls out, rushing forward to attack
   Before your eyes her appearance starts to change. Her skin becomes as ashen as his, claws sprout from the ends of her fingertips and wings rip through the back of her sweater before she lunges at him. Being the protector she is, she goes right for her throat, but he's able to dodge in time. He hissed and flicked his hand, causing a wave of green magic to surge at her. It pushes her back a bit but does no real damage, and she sends a wave of her own scarlet magic back at him.
   He flies backwards a few feet as if he'd been shoved and chuckles at her, “Is that really all you have?”
   “It's nowhere near all I have, you pathetic little imp!” 
   Her voice is different now…louder, deeper and darker. If she wasn’t fighting off a demonic threat you're sure you'd be enraptured by the sound. 
   His hands shake in anger at the insult and he roars, charging towards her once more. He's fast this time, fast enough to catch her off guard and so he ends up tackling her. The two hit the ground hard enough to send up a dust wave and they begin to ruthlessly tear at each other. You can hear the ripping of flesh and accompanied sounds of pain leaving both of them, and as the dust settles you're given your first clear sight of your girlfriend's face. 
   Her eyes are still aglow, but now they’re caged behind the beginnings of her horns, which grow upwards across her forehead giving off the appearance of a crown. Having been expecting her to look like the stereotypical demon in the media, you were a bit taken aback by this look, but you weren’t afraid. You had no reason to be. Sure she looked different, but she was still Wanda. Your Wanda. 
   You're shaken from your thoughts as the fight continues, watching as Wanda manages to get away from his grip and brings her claws across his cheek. He snarls and clutches the now mangled flesh before whispering some sort of incantation. His fists light up in a green mist and he swings, but she easily blocks the hit. 
   Apparently angered by her quick reflexes he draws back a bit and sends a sigil of green her way. It wraps itself around Wanda and squeezes slightly, causing her to gasp, and It takes everything in you to not run out the door to try and help, even though you know you’d practically be useless in the fight. But you remember your promise and Wanda's fears, so your feet root themselves to the ground.
   The other demon attempts to squeeze her again, but instead of being in pain, she laughs. The sound sends shivers down the demons back and your own but for two entirely different reasons. She then easily breaks free from the spell that had once held her in place and stalks towards her attacker. Seemingly frightened he stumbles back slightly, wracking his brain for something else to use against her. But before he can think, she shows him one of her own tricks.
   She makes a few gestures with her hands, her fingers moving like waves as she does so, and large red tendril wrap themselves around his limbs to hold him in place. He screeches in what you imagine to be pain as a series of runes surround him in midair and your girlfriend hovers near him. 
   “You come here, to my home, and belittle me. Speak ill of my brother and threaten the life of my beloved” she snarls, making him wheeze as her magic tightens, pulling him down to his knees, “you're going to regret that decision, because the pain you endured in hell will not compare to the pain i put you through”
   Though fear fills him with his inability to escape her clutches he can’t help but chuckle, “Go on then, be cruel to me while your dear pet watches. Show her more of the horror you truly are”
   Wanda's heartbeat picks up at his tauntings, and she turns slightly to eye the front door. Sure enough, there you stood, watching everything transpire and taking in her monstrous form. She turns back to him with a scowl
   “I will not hesitate to pluck every tooth from your screaming maw and I will take great joy in hanging you from your entrails, but not in front of her.” she whispers aggressively, opening up a portal beside him 
   Three large and looming creatures await on the other side, in a room adorned with a huge carved portrait of her. She begins to float her prisoner through it, still in his magic shackles. He thrashes around violently in a futile attempt to escape which only causes a dark chuckle to pass your girlfriends lips
   “I hope you find my castle to be warm and hospitable, and I do hope you enjoy my friends company until I can join you”
   With that, the portal closes, leaving nothing but an echo of the demons scream in its wake. Though pleased with how easily she dealt with the threat, Wanda's shoulders slump and with them her wings. You had seen everything, there was no going back now. She couldn’t just put on her human facade and pretend this hadn’t happened. She had to face your reaction. Whatever it may be.
    She turns around, beginning to make her way back to you. But her nerves take over, and thoughts of you screaming at her for finding her true nature disgusting bombard her. Would you call her names? Hate her? Tell her to leave? Take off running? Or would you avoid having a confrontation because you were afraid of her?
   Lost in her spiral she hadn’t noticed that she had entered the front door, or that you were now only feet away from her. That is, until she feels your soft and warm hands cup her face. She carefully brings one of her hands up to cover one of your own upon her cheek
   “You're still here…” she whispers as if in disbelief 
   Your eyes soften, and your thumb catches a stray tear as it slides down her pale cheek and everything clicks for you. The fact that she never let you see her other form and her reluctance to even talk about it hadn’t com5tfe from a place of mistrust, but from a place of fear. 
   “Baby, I’m not ever going anywhere” you coo, placing a soft kiss against her lips, “It doesn't matter to me what you look like, I love you with every fiber of my being. And that's not going to change.”
   Her arms gently loop around the back of your neck, careful to not let her claws harm you, and she pulls you impossibly closer, “I love you so much malysh(baby)”
   You bring your lips back to hers, moving your hands from her face to her hips to hold her against you. You waste no time in deepening the kiss, sliding your tongue into her awaiting mouth with ease. Her senses are easily becoming overwhelmed by you, and she can’t help but let out a whimper at the mere thought of you taking her like this. Fueled by her needy sound your grip on her hips instinctively tightens as you move your kisses downwards, across her jaw and down her collarbone
   “So beautiful…and all mine” you whisper, nipping at her flesh before soothing the mark with your tongue as your hands grope the swell of her ass
   Her fingers tangle messily in your hair as you continue to work her up, pulling a moan from her, “Y/n…”
   You glance up at her, a mix of lust and mischief clear in your eyes as you pull back, letting your hands wander up her sides, “What is it baby? What do you need?”
   “Bed- oh!” she cuts herself off with her own moan as your hands cup her breasts and her hips stutter forward, “Bedroom, please….I need you”
    Without hesitation you make your way further into the house and down the hall, pulling her along behind you until you enter the bedroom. You quickly rid her of her torn clothes before pressing her down against the mattress, sharing a few more kisses before you pull away to take in the sight. Her gray flesh contrasts perfectly against the deep burgundy sheets, her wings spread out to allow her to lay flat, her hair spills across her pillow in waves and her chest heaves slightly as she tries to catch her breath
  You lean back down and begin to kiss her chest, slowly working your way down between the valley of her breasts before moving to take a nipple into your mouth. Your hand immediately moves to give the other some attention as well, causing Wanda to grasp at your back. Her hold is just tight enough to allow you to feel the tips of her claws against your flesh, but not tight enough to break the skin. It warms your heart to see just how careful she is with you, even when in the verge of losing control
   “Feels so good, but I need more…please malysh(baby)” she begs, and you can feel her thighs tremble beneath you
   “Shh, I’ve got you baby” you assure her before letting your lips continue their decent until you're hovering above her core
   She eagerly spreads her thighs for you, allowing you to see her fully and take in the sheer amount of arousal that paints her thighs. You subconsciously lick your lips at the sight and prepare yourself for the feast that is your girlfriend before moving forward. Your tongue parts her folds with a swipe before plunging into her, pulling sinful sounds from her as you begin to eat her out like it was your last chance to do so.
   “Fuck…just like that” she moans, struggling to keep her eyes open to watch your lust filled ones 
   You hum against her, sending a spike of pleasure through her that leaves her squirming. You wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her still and push your face even further against her cunt, reveling in the way she moans for you
   "Don't stop, please don't stop" she cries, her hands moving to clutch at the mattress below her. You're almost certain you hear the sheets tear, but you pay no mind, instead you double down on your efforts "Gonna cum…oh god!"
   You're rewarded with a gush of her juices as her body shudders, and you continue to lap at her while she comes down from her high, only crawling back up her body when her glowing eyes reopen
   "Hi pretty girl" you greet before kissing her
   She moans at the taste of herself on your tongue, greedily sucking on the muscle as it explains her mouth before you pull away
   "You really think I'm pretty like this?"
   "Of course I do" you admit, bringing a hand up to her face
   Her breath shudders as your fingertips begin to trace the ridges of her horns. She'd always known they were more sensitive than one might think, but she had no idea how good it would feel to have your hands on them
  You quickly pick up on how much she seems to be enjoying this type of affection and grasp the pointy appendage, eliciting a gasp from her
   "That feels good, baby?"
   "Yes" she pants as your thumb caresses the material, and her hips begin to move on their own
   You smirk as you feel her grinding up against you and you reach your free hand over to the nightstand drawer, grabbing hold of the strap on that sits within
   When you pull away from your girlfriend her face lights up at the sight of the toy in your hands, and she quickly moves to help you undress. You can't help but tease her as she eyes the faux cock hungrily
   "Like what you see?"
   "Yes" She admits with a smirk, "But I'd like it even better inside me"
   You suge forward again, capturing her lips in a searing kiss while you let the tip of the toy tease her puffy cunt
   "Please baby, don't tease" she begs, grabbing onto your back, letting her claws softly dig into your flesh
   You push your hips forward, bottoming out in her in one swift move, causing your girlfriend to let out a pornographic moan. You immediately begin to thrust your hips, not even giving her a chance to adjust as you know she's far too eager to be fucked to be patient
  "That's it baby, you're taking me so well" you praise before lowering your mouth to her chest
   "Oh fuck!" She exclaims as your mouth envelops one of her pert nipples
   You begin to mark up her pale skin as you continue pumping the toy in and out of her, effectively making Wanda's head spin as she gets closer and closer to her second orgasm. And you're well on your way to experience your first as the toy stimulates your clit with every thrust
   Her grasp on your back tightens, and you can feel that she's beginning to draw blood, something which you're sure she'll beat herself up over later, but you honestly don't mind as the pain is only adding to your arousal. You're so close now
   "You gonna cum baby?" She nods her head, mumbling incoherently, "Cum with me then"
   You both moan as pleasure washes over you both and you continue to move your hips in slow long strokes to prolong the euphoric feeling until it gets to be too much and she gently pushes you away. You rid yourself of the strap before settling into the bed beside her, cleanup can wait, you decide, it's time for cuddles.
   "I love you, malysh(baby), thank you for accepting me as I am" Wanda whispers as she wraps an arm around your waist
   "I love you too baby. No matter what"
   She smiles and pulls you impossibly closer to her before letting the wing she wasn't laying on drape over you both. Relief fills her as she finally fully realizes she's not going to lose you, you chose to stay. Now all she has to worry about is making sure that becomes permanent, but that's a problem for another day….
Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 7 months
Text
Dark Moon | Chapter Six
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Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader
Word Count | 3,2k
Warnings | +18, yandere themes, blood, unusual and dangerous use of a knife, revenge, violence, explicit and dirty language, this is not for minors.
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This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.
And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.
That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.
He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.
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➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! In this chapter there will be a slight change for MC, I hope you will enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think! 💜
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Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse
Taglist is open!
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Chapter List - Previous - Next
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"How is she?"
The dark-haired boy lifted his eyes to Seokjin, who was staring at him with his hands in his pockets, still dressed smartly and wearing perfectly polished-toed shoes.
"They stitched her up and now they're giving her an IV, she's lost too much blood," was Jimin's laconic reply, who was leaning against the wall of the waiting room pondering what to do.
They were in a private clinic, there was no danger of awkward questions; it belonged to a cousin of Seokjin's. That was where they went when they urgently needed a doctor.
"And what are you going to do with Ester?"
"I was just about to talk about her," he broke off from the wall, "She's one of your girls, but she disrespected me, Jin."
"You don't want to kill her," Seokjin said, although it was clear from his tone that he wasn't all that interested, but Jimin shook his head and the man relaxed his shoulders; every woman present at the Dark Moon was a big, juicy source of income.
"I want to teach her what respect is for me and my orders, I won't allow just any whore to challenge a decision of mine," he said harshly.
"You're right, besides it might stir up the others to do the same in case there are further jealousies" he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, irritated, "All right, instruct her" he gave his consent and made to turn on his heels and leave, but Jimin blocked him.
"I'll take her."
"How?" he had heard perfectly well, but he wanted to push him to be more detailed.
"You made me a proposition and this is my last answer, I'll take her."
Because the Dark Moon was a den of snakes and she would only be safe in his arms.
"I'll prepare the bow, then," smiled Jin, Jimin snorted, smiling faintly.
Then she saw him leave and his smile faded, he had a score to settle with Ester and it didn't take him long to return to the Dark Moon, Namjoon greeted him with a look of understanding.
"Hanon locked her in her room, all she did was scream and throw objects everywhere."
Just the thought of such a scene irritated the man.
"I'll give her a good reason to scream if she cares that much," he hissed, Namjoon nodded, knowing his friend, he would not go lightly.
When he entered the room that had seen better days, Jimin found a mad woman inside, messy locks fell across her red, furious face, and broken and bruised objects were scattered everywhere, victims of Ester's rage.
The woman stopped only at the sight of the man stuck on the threshold watching her; Jimin's expression was indecipherable, but his eyes were harder than ice, a detail that made the young woman's lips tighten.
Jimin took two steps inside the bedroom, closing the door behind him, turned the key already in the lock slowly, and a boulder dropped on her stomach.
"Jimin..." the nasal voice because of the hysterical crying and the punch she had received sounded whiny, which did not faze him.
"Ester" dropped the key into one of his pockets and gave it his undivided attention, "Tell me, Ester.... That stupid scene, what do you think it would have led to?"
The girl swallowed, suddenly frozen.
"I asked you nicely to take care of her, to explain things to her," continued Jimin calmly, "And instead you send her to the hospital," he chuckled without amusement.
Ester did not know what to say, she felt only cruel satisfaction in knowing that Y/N's condition was so critical as to require qualified medical attention.
The bitch had to be punished, she thought.
"How do you explain this?"
"I'm yours," asserted the woman simply, "You shouldn't have let her take my place, who is she? You don't even know her, she doesn't know what you like in bed, and even if she did she wouldn't be able to satisfy you, you've been looking for me all along," she growled through tears, Jimin raised an amused eyebrow.
Perhaps Y/N did not know what he liked in bed, but for what little he had had her, she had managed to give him an unforgettable blowjob; Ester's jealousy amused and irritated him at the same time.
Ester could claim to be his, but he certainly did not belong to her.
"I don't know how true that can be," the man crossed his legs, "You say you're mine, but I've seen you satisfy many other men before and after me...besides, who says I've only ever sought you out?" he asked with a smile, remembering vividly that he had had sex with countless other women. The fact that at the Dark Moon he had chosen Ester as his favorite had been totally random; everyone had chosen a girl and he had done the same, choosing one of the prettiest and best. He didn't think that this would make her head swell.
"You've come back to me now," remarked the woman, giving no sign of having listened to a single word Jimin said, blatantly pretending.
The boy remained impassive a few moments before opening his legs slightly.
"Come here," he patted his own powerful thigh wrapped in tight dark pants, Ester remained interdicted and guarded, making the boy snort, "Don't make me repeat myself," he hissed.
The woman took a few steps in his direction, when she saw that Jimin had no strange intentions she became braver, even going so far as to sit on the man who waited patiently for her.
"Lively little girl," he smiled sweetly, arranging a few strands behind her ear, Ester's heart beat inexorably, enchanted by the heavenly vision that was Jimin, "Repeat to me what you told me at first."
As if bewitched by the boy's charm, Ester repeated his words once more, "I am yours..." Jimin nodded, leaving a kiss on the woman's neck.
"Again, Ester," the woman threw her head back under the tender strokes of Jimin's tongue along her skin, inside she exulted in lust.
"I'm yours...!" she moaned when her intimacy came in contact with Jimin's cock, she felt the tip press against her core through the tight fabric, Ester shuddered at the idea of being able to enjoy that rapturous hardness once more and vibrated excitedly when Jimin pushed her against the bed, straddling her body.
"Say it again and again..." he whispered hoarsely, touching the intimacy of the young woman, who arched her back at the contact, thrusting her hips against his hand, which crossed the barrier of her dress to tickle her clit directly.
Long moans dispersed through the room, Ester not holding back from letting everyone know what was going on in there, as if to prove that Jimin never intended to punish her, that she would always remain his favorite.
That is, until Jimin's fingers were replaced by something icy, smooth, and hard that penetrated her slit.
She had not even noticed that the boy had retrieved the object, nor did she know where he got it from or what it was.
Maybe it was-
"Stop moving like a bitch in heat," Jimin ordered her, Ester frowned, she was about to cum, why would she stop-, "Stop if you don't want me to slice you, Ester" was his final warning.
"Jimin, what-"
"Go ahead, say again that you're mine-until you yourself realize the bullshit you keep babbling," he hissed, scrutinizing her cruelly with a derisive smile, his hand made the object penetrate deeper, which caused Ester to squint.
Jimin's words confused her-what game was he playing? And most importantly...
"What do you have in your hand, Jimin?"
"Are you referring to the thing you're sucking up so easily? Hmm... in my opinion you can get there," he said vaguely getting no answer, he huffed, "Come on... you always asked me to give it to you, which is impossible given the rules here at the Dark Moon," he chuckled, holding the base tightly.
At those words Ester blanched.
The switchblade that Jimin always carried with him.
"Jimin... this is a joke, isn't it?" she asked tensely, the boy replied by pressing the knife handle harder against her walls, just a simple gesture and the blade would snap like a spring.
"A whore without a pussy would be worthless," reasoned Jimin, there Ester had confirmation that the man was serious, she began to tremble and break into a cold sweat.
If before pleasure was the only thing she felt, now terror had encompassed every fiber of her body.
"Jimin, please..." she cried tremblingly, but the boy shushed her.
"Your arrogance has always disgusted me, Ester.... but your disobedience is the worst thing about you, I've always let it go because it was pleasurable to fuck you, but now I can't see what attracted me to you anymore," he spat, "Do you want it fast or slow?" he asked mellifluously, smiling fearfully.
Ester quickly denied with her head, she was a lake of tears and unrestrained sobs, "Don't! I-I won't give you any more trouble, I swear, I swear!" she screamed breathlessly, unable to move her body because of the terror she was feeling.
The man after a few moments moved away, withdrawing his weapon accordingly, Ester relaxed slightly before she felt a hissing sound cleave the air and something liquid dripping from one of her cheeks.
Wide-eyed she brought a trembling hand to her face and with a horrible foreboding saw blood, she was breathless when she realized what had happened.
Jimin watched uninterestedly as the woman's despair, her face scarred, ran to the mirror to ascertain her condition, he saw her collapse on her own knees amid sobs and cries, the only thing he felt was annoyance at that scene which he said was ridiculous. She had touched Y/N's face, he had done the same to hers. Permanently.
"You'll be able to satisfy clients with perversions like that, too, aren't you happy?"
He walked out of the room as he entered it, meeting Namjoon's gaze.
"I hope you haven’t damaged it too much."
Jimin shrugged, "Clients care about what's between her legs, she was unsightly even before," Namjoon rolled his eyes.
"I'll go get someone to treat her, she's screaming more than before," he hissed holding the bridge of his nose tightly between two fingers.
Jimin patted him twice before heading out of the brothel, ready to finish the job he had started.
The man cast a glance at the woman sitting in the back seat, she was still dazed from the medication that prevented her from feeling pain, she stood staring out of the tinted windows.
A large medical patch covered her entire cheek, just as a bandage wrapped her head tightly and securely.
At her side Taehyung made sure she did not attempt any strange moves; the boy was dressed in casual clothes unlike the young woman who was wearing only pajamas and slippers.
It was nighttime, Jimin had made sure to pick her up in a safe time frame for everyone so as not to raise even the slightest doubt.
"Where do you think I'm taking you?" broke the silence Jimin, Y/N barely lifted her head.
"To the Dark Moon, that's where I belong, isn't it?" she replied apathetically, a slow smile lapped the young male's face.
"You got it wrong this time, honey," he said, leaving her interjected.
"What do you mean?"
"I found a better use for you," he chuckled, almost breathing in the fear of the poor girl, who upset cast a glance at Taehyung.
She hadn't known him long, but in the clinic when she was surrounded by doctors, he had given her the impression that he was a calm and lucid man, or so she thought, although she remembered perfectly well that if Jimin wasn't there, then Taehyung himself would be there to give her that "checkup."
"Calm down, kitten, if he wanted to hurt you, he would have already done so, right?" he affirmed, instantly procuring a glare of lightning from Y/N.
"He did hurt me," she huffed inviperately, squeezing herself into her seat.
Jimin looked at her from the mirror, studying the woman's emaciated contours, her lips tightened into a line were a sign of her strange inner turmoil.
He did not want to get to the point of hurting her again, yet the way he had been raised left no room for pity, if she tried any bullshit he would pay for every single consequence.
After a few kilometers the car stopped in front of a seemingly very luxurious apartment establishment, a garage opened up for them and Jimin wasted no time in getting in, Taehyung on the other hand did not lose sight of every corner of the street, although from the angelic faces they remained gentlemen of the underworld. Seokjin as already specified had his hands full just about everywhere, dealing not only in his brothel - a source of more than excellent income - but also in dealing and often murder for hire.
There were not exactly a few of their enemies.
Y/N squared off with a bad feeling the other cars present-where had they taken her?
"Get her out," ordered Jimin, Taehyung opened his door first and going around he allowed the woman to get out as well, holding her firmly by the arm, not only to prevent her from escaping - she had nowhere to go given the enclosed space they were in - but also because he was unsure of her strength, the young woman in fact was unsteady on her own legs.
Out of the corner of his eye Jimin noticed that Taehyung was about to take her in his arms, which inexplicably irritated him. He knew that his friend had no interest in the girl, but that did not stop him from harshly jerking the other away from her to take her personally in his arms stunning not only Taehyung, but Y/N herself, who tried to shrink as much as possible under his dark gaze. The man's grip was firm, but she felt herself falling into the arms of her tormentor.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked with a knot in her throat; Jimin did not answer immediately.
First he climbed stairs that led them to a larger door, from that opened a long, dimly lit hallway and then more stairs to climb until they reached a landing with an elevator.
When they entered and the doors closed he finally spoke.
"You are in your new home."
A thousand questions poured into Y/N's head, confused and agitated. Had she been sold? So, is this how it was going to end?
She had basically ended up like her sister, she thought sorrowfully, regretting several times the absurd idea of looking for a similar job to support herself.
"More to the point, you are in your new home, yours and Jimin's," Taehyung chuckled, as the elevator doors opened to show a series of numbered, digitally locking doors.
"What?"
Taehyung typed a code on the keypad on the door with the number 7, which opened with a soft, almost imperceptible click.
The first thing the woman saw was a spacious, modern living room with an L-shaped sofa of soft dark leather that drew all the attention to itself.
"What does that mean?"
Jimin made a sign to his friend, who understood instantly. He wanted to be alone with Y/N.
"I'm off, see you soon kitten," he greeted her before disappearing, carefully closing the door behind him, the resulting sound no longer sounding so soft to Y/N's ears.
She felt she was being teased.
"What does that mean?" she repeated more somberly, Jimin took a seat on the sofa, crossing his legs in a pose that screamed elegance and power.
"I bought you, that's what it means."
It was a lie, Seokjin had made a gift of her to Jimin, but the latter with that statement tried to give himself an intimidating aura, buying a person after all was not something everyday, one had to be a powerful and influential person to do so, the man wanted her to feel fear in his presence.
She was stunned, "Why would you do that? You hate me, you find me useless! Is this another way to torture me?" she hissed with tears in her eyes, "You made me lose everything, what more do you want from me?"
She was broken.
She had run away from a monster to save her sister, but she had lost her and had been humiliated in more ways than one by Jimin and his former lover, if she could have ended it to avoid more suffering she would have taken the chance.
"I don't hate you, silly," sighed Jimin as he took off his jacket, "You irritate me with your stubborn attitude, but I don't hate you...it's other people I reserve my poison for, it's precious, it's the fuel that gets me going, my beautiful girl" he got up from his seat to go pour himself a few shots of vanilla rum, the crystal mini bar displayed his small but expensive collection of drinks, they were mostly classic brands, Jimin must have been an experienced drinker.
He sipped slowly from his glass, the plump, glossy lips matched perfectly with the transparent rim, soaking up the amber liquid, the piercing tapped lightly against the crystalline surface. Y/N imagined the sinful taste they had, wondered why she had not met him in his angel form, why she was given the devil, after the hell she had already been accustomed to.
"And then..." he continued, "I wouldn't let you stay at the Dark Moon a minute longer, I've already told you that but maybe it's better to refresh your memory," he murmured as he approached, the girl took small steps back, nothing compared to the male's two strides, "I won't let any other man get his hands on you, I want you and consequently you belong to me," he said casting a languid glance at the woman's lips.
"And what will you do in case you get tired of me?" she provoked him.
Jimin's eyes darkened, "What should I do with a stupid little girl like you?" he asked, not answering her question.
Neither of them would have liked the answer.
He took a lock of her soft hair in his fingers, bringing it to his nose he inhaled its light fragrance, the hospital had turned the girl off. He decided to leave her alone for the time being, she needed to recover, and from her thin, depressed appearance he guessed it would take quite some time.
"Here is a room with a bathroom for you, you will also find clean clothes, you may go," he turned away from her, who resumed breathing normally. Jimin was lethal and she feared it was not for one simple reason.
It may have sounded absurd, but no matter how much her instincts screamed at her to escape from the clutches of that monster, a much darker part of her could not stop pointing out its bewitching and sinful aspect.
Hers was a desire that had to be kept silent and hidden inside the closet because it was shameful and sick.
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johnwickb1tsch · 4 months
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Vino Veritas - Part II
A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic
Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. Eventual nsfw, not this chapter. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.
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II. The Interminable Fucking Car Ride
“So…what do you do?”
“I run the marketing department for JD Power.”
“The car trophy people?”
“That’s a magazine.”
“Ah. So you’re the grand architect of big corporate’s bid to tell us what to think while slyly taking all our money.”
He snorts. “Only those who are incapable of thinking for themselves. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to apply to you.”
If you squint, that almost felt like he was paying you a compliment.
“So, what do you do?” he asks in turn.  
You don’t know why you’re almost embarrassed to tell him. “I run an art gallery/gift shop on the beach in Playa Bonita.”
He blinks, those lovely dark eyes fixed on you for a moment. “Of course you do.”
“What does that mean?”
He huffs a little. It almost sounds wistful, but then he frowns, utterly fucking ruining the moment.  “You just look the type.”
You’re not sure why that stings…or why you even give a fuck.
The Fucking Rehearsal Dinner
“I’ve never really understood the point of the rehearsal dinner. Is eating so hard we really have to rehearse it?”
You sense an almost twitch of the corner of Frank’s mouth. They have stuck you together at a table in the far back. The black sheep who they felt they had to invite, but didn’t really want to.
“Not to miss the opportunity to make the groom’s parents spend unnecessary money too?” Frank offers.
“Fair to spread the misery, I guess.”
“Didn’t you sue Keith over this shit?”
“My parents did. They lost thirty thousand dollars in deposits.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. No one should spend that kind of money on a wedding.”
“Strangely, I agree with you now. I didn’t know any better at the time.” You’d been so young, you could hardly even fathom how much thirty-thousand dollars was.
Your parents had been happy at the time with the prospect of marrying you off to Keith. He’d been successful, charming, and outwardly doting on you. They never really thought you had much going on your own, so they probably thought he was the best you could do. The thought still hurts, more than it should.
“I mean,” you blurt, “Did you know who you are or what you wanted when you were 20?”
“Of course not.”
“He was my whole world. When he dumped me. It...it really fucked me up.” You don't know why you're admitting this to this near total stranger. There is just something about his forthright manner that demands honesty. 
“Ah well, join the club. My father tried to shoot me once, if it makes you feel any better.”
You blink. “He tried to shoot you?”
“Yes. With a gun.”
“What did you do?”
“I ran at him.”
“You ran at him? Not away from him?”
“Yeah. Well, I was pissed off. He tried to shoot me again, but I got the gun away from him and hit him with it. Broke his orbital bone. He said I was the accumulation of all his bad decisions. He started to cry and begged me to kill him. I didn’t, only because I didn’t want to fuck my whole life up. The poor bastard jumped out the seventh floor the next day.”
Before you can stop yourself you reach out to place your hand on his on the table.
Before he can stop himself, his long fingers close around yours.
This connection endures for precisely 1.5 seconds before he shakes you off.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t think your fine.”
“Fine, I’m all fucked up, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
You sigh, sinking down in your chair, embarrassed. Why did you touch him? What were you thinking?
“I guess we’re in the club together,” you answer miserably.
You feel him looking at you out the corner of his eye. There is a weight to this man’s gaze. It’s not unpleasant, just…you feel as though he sees everything.
“I feel like we should get at least decoder rings or something,” he grumbles.
The bride and groom make their entrance, interrupting whatever acerbic thing you were going to say next. You watch as they make their way through the crowd, basking in the glow of being the center of attention. Keith always loved that shit. You hate to admit, that his bride to be is a solid stone cold foxy 10. The kind of woman that men will trip over themselves for as they walk down the street.
You weren’t bad looking but you’d never had that kind of power.
If you wanted to trip a man, you had to do the dirty work and actually stick out your foot.
“Oh, look at us, let us presume to inconvenience you with the ostentatious display of our love,” you mock quietly in a mousy little falsetto.
It actually makes Frank laugh. At least, you think it’s a laugh. Maybe it was indigestion.
He joins in, though forgoing the funny voice, “And we’re conceited enough to think we’re actually different from the rest of the human race, and our love will last forever and ever…”
You’re enjoying this malicious bit of fun, but there is something in the way that he says it that makes you pause. “You don’t think love can ever last?” you ask.
He snorts. “Well, he doesn’t. I heard the prenup she had to sign was brutal,” he tells you.
��“Poor thing.”
“You really feel sorry for her?”
“Slightly?”
“Are you going to say hello?”
You sigh. “I guess I fucking better.”
You slowly make to stand, the chair screeching under you. “Give ‘em hell, kid.”
You flip Frank the bird as you go, and hear that peculiar strangled sound that must pass for his outward expression of mirth.
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Dumb ass free shit you would never do on your own
"I spoke to the bride last night."
“Indeed?”
You’ve had pedicures before, but you’ve never sprung for a professional foot massage, and you have to admit it feels pretty good. It totally surprised you to find Frank there, but he’d informed you unashamedly that he can’t resist free shit. You find that amusing, considering he’s obviously comfortable, if not outright rich.
Maybe that’s how he stays that way.
“Yes, and she told me she doesn’t mind that you’re here, and she’s not threatened by you.”
You snort at that, taking a long sip of your iced latte.
“At least, I think she meant you. She’s dumb as a box of rocks, it was hard to tell who or what she was talking about at times.”
You sigh at hearing that. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to soothe my feelings.”
It’s his turn to snort. “Merely reporting facts, I assure you. If you still feel badly about Keith and have not managed to move on to one of the other 8 billion people on this planet, then there is no helping you.”
“Is that your method for getting over a bad breakup?” He makes it sound so easy, you cannot help but roll your eyes at him.
“No, I have opted out of that shit show. It makes me uniquely qualified to offer comment on your own situation.”
You tilt you head in confusion, looking over at him. “You’ve…opted out of what? Dating? Romance? Marriage?”
“All of the above. It never ends well, as I have learned from watching my mother’s train wreck of a life as she blithely stumbled between marriages and boyfriends and suitors.”
“That’s so sad,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.
If you hadn’t already started to learn this man’s gestures, you would have missed the way he stiffened slightly, staring fixedly down at his feet.
“How many times have you been in love?” he asks.
You think about it, and regret the answer. “Just the once.” With Keith, the asshole. Any one who came after didn’t have much luck getting over the wall you built to protect yourself from another heartbreak.
He looks at you then, and you are pinned by those chocolate brown eyes, that for once seem earnest rather than annoyed. “What’s it like?”
The fact that this man, who is at least ten if not fifteen years your elder, is asking you tears your heart into little bits of confetti.  
“It’s like going insane,” you answer truthfully, and he looks back down, frowning.
“I thought so.”
***
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You are standing in your inflatable body bumpers together on the sidelines, declining to partake in this insane sport, content to watch the others attempt to inflict cervical injuries on themselves and others.
The question is eating at you, and you decide what the hell. What’s he going to do? Be mean to you?
“So, you’ve never been in love?”
“I don’t think so,” he answers, frowning, though it’s the same frown he’s been wearing for the past hour watching the idiots running around the field.
“Believe me, you would know.”
“Do insane people know they’re insane?”
“Ok, maybe that was a bad comparison. It’s…total surrender.”
“Wow, you’re really talking it up.”
“It is though. You have these special feelings for a person, and you just know whatever they do to you, it won’t matter, because you’ll still care for them.”
“It doesn’t matter, until it does matter.”
“Some people have higher tolerances for pain than others.”
“If you loved Keith you could probably take a Caesar-style stabbing without flinching.”
You’re not sure how exactly to respond to that.
“At any rate. I prefer to avoid pain rather than withstand it. My parents inflicted quite enough. No need to spread it around.”
“Alright, I get it that your parents sufficiently traumatized you, with the failed marriages and the…shooting thing. But doesn’t there come a point where you have to let it go and rise above it?”
“I don’t see any reason to.”
“Think about all your missing out on though.”
“What exactly is that?”
“You know…human connection. The things that make life worth living.”
“Jesus, are you sure you don’t work for Hallmark?”
“Positive.”
“I bet you sell rocks in your shop that have inspirational words carved in them.”
“Of course I do. The markup on those things is astronomical.”
You see him smirk out the corner of his eye.
“I bet you also sell little statues of big-eyed children slinging bible verses.”
“Ohhh, now those are fighting words, sir.” You bump him lightly with your inflatable tutu, making him shuffle a step. For a fleeting moment, you catch a hint of a smile, and it feels like a resounding victory.
Feeling bold, you fix him with an earnest stare. “You claim you’ve opted out of this mess. But what if you meet someone you really like?”
“Then I should probably run swiftly in the opposite direction,” he says, paying you a side-eyed look.
Five minutes later, he does quit the field, though he doesn’t quite run from it. You tell your self that it’s just a coincidence, and that he was just done standing in a polyvinyl orb in this heat.
But deep down…there is the tiniest kindling of something in your heart, and you know you should kick dirt over that shit and stomp on it.
You don’t, and you carry a ridiculous little light feeling with you as you return to the hotel.
It feels like you swallowed a butterfly.
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